Fortune by Annabel Joseph (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📕

out of there, but he put his hand over hers, firm pressure and a squeeze.

“Sit down. Sit down or I’ll make a scene.”

She looked in his dark eyes and saw something there besides the disapproving asshole. A spark that promised mayhem, a mischievous glint. A challenge. She sank back into the booth. The waitress returned and Ryan smiled up at her, handing over the menus.

“She’ll have a whole-grain English muffin with fat-free cream cheese and a fresh fruit platter.”

“Strawberries and melons okay?” the waitress asked.

“I hate melons,” Kat muttered under her breath.

The waitress barely glanced at her, just noted Ryan’s approving nod and bustled away. He turned back to Kat.

“Trust me. You’ll feel so much better when you eat something healthy.”

“Trust me. You just so ruined your chances with me.”

He didn’t look too worried. She watched him tear a square out of the paper placemat in front of him and start folding it into some kind of shape. “A relationship with me would do you good,” he said. “A world of good, if you want my opinion.”

“What if I don’t want your opinion? What if I don’t want to have a relationship with you? Especially when I can’t order what I want?”

His mouth twitched a little, a small arrogant smile.

“I think you’d put up with just about anything if I would only spank you again.”

Damn it. Was she that transparent? She was obsessed with the thought. She’d thought of little else since the night they’d had their little session in the storage room, and even now, sitting across from him, she felt short of breath. Touch me, fuck me, lecture me, spank me. Just do anything, anything to me.

She’d been so stunned and appalled by what he’d done to her that night she had fled in a panic. Actually, it wasn’t him she was stunned and appalled by… It was herself. She had been a more than willing participant—in fact she’d completely lost her mind under his hands. When he’d told her he was going to spank her, when he glared at her with those stern, knowing eyes, her clit had caught fire. You are going to stand there, Ekaterina, and I am going to spank your ass for these crazy choices you make. She’d repeated it to herself a thousand times since then, remembered the stern tenor of his voice, his exacting tone. Every time he spoke to her now she responded sexually, just as sexually as she’d responded that night.

After she’d left him she had gone home, run upstairs to her room and, finding her nieces asleep there, had run into the bathroom instead and masturbated three times to orgasm before she could think straight again. She had slept and dreamed of him all night, the touch of his fingertips pressing her to the door, the obscenely sexy sound of him unbuckling his belt. She ached. She craved him with an intensity that scared her.

Not good, she told herself. Feelings this intense were too dangerous.

She had gone out of her way to avoid him, staying away from the club, not answering his calls. She felt it was better to just never see him again, to forget her experience in the closet and the tidal wave of desire it had unleashed. But then he had shown up for dinner with that smug smile and basked in the thanks of her family while she squirmed beside him in hot anger and lust. She had tried so hard to avoid him, fought herself so hard to just stay away, and there he was again. When he’d lifted her up in his arms she was more than happy to have him take her…but now…now…

He was looking at her as if this was going to be a whole lot more complicated than that. He handed her the folded placemat critter with a look of gravity and she turned it around in her hands.

“What is this? A monkey?”

He tsked. “A crane.”

“What’s a crane anyway? Are they like flamingos?”

“Cranes are among the most honored and mythologized creatures in the world.”

“Mythologized? Is that even a word?”

“Would you like to wager on it?”

Kat looked up at his devilish grin and shifted. “Uh, no. I’m not going to wager against the genius.” She looked back at the origami figure, touched the wide pointed wings and traced the narrow head. “It’s neat that you can do this,” she finally said.

“I can show you how if you want.”

“No. I don’t want.”

“The Japanese consider the crane an omen of fortune and happiness. They believe that folding one thousand origami cranes can earn you a wish.”

She looked up at the tone in his voice. “What kind of wish?”

“Any kind of wish. What do you wish for?”

Happiness. Security. You. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s just paper. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t it? My medical license is just paper.”

“But that’s not just paper. That’s all your expertise and knowledge and what it took to get there.”

“Yes, and so is this. It takes a long time and a lot of dedication to fold a thousand cranes.”

“Getting what you want has nothing to do with cranes,” she said stubbornly. She felt the strangest urge to cry. She looked around the diner to distract herself and was relieved to see the waitress approaching with their food. Kat shoved the crane to the side as the waitress put the plates down between them. As unappetizing as it looked, she dug into the fruit plate, picking the strawberries out from the unwanted melon.

“What does it have to do with then?” he asked.

She looked up in surprise. “What?”

“Getting what you want. What does it have to do with, if not with cranes?”

“Is that a trick question? Are you trying to mess with me? Why don’t you just eat your whole-grain omelet or whatever crap you ordered?”

“It’s not a trick question and I’m not trying to do anything to you except get to know you better. See what makes you tick.”

She looked at the gelatinous cream cheese on her English muffin