How to Trap a Tycoon by Elizabeth Bevarly (thriller books to read txt) 📕

"And that's the whole point to Man's Life," he said with a nod of approval. "It's a publication that celebrates what makes a man a man. It's vital information for my gender to use in furthering the cause."

She digested that for a moment, then smiled. "Just like How to Trap a Tycoon is vital information for my gender to use in furthering the cause," she said.

He arched his eyebrows in surprise. First that she would bring that damned book up again, when she knew how he felt about it, and second that she would actually equate it with Man's Life. "Oh, I don't think so," he said.

"Sure it is," she retorted. "Man's Life is a magazine that celebrates all the nice things that men have. How to Trap a Tycoon is a book that tells women how to go about getting those nice things, things they don't already have because they've been denied them by men."

Adam rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the bar. "Oh, great. Here we go again. Men have everything and women have nothing."

He made his way to a leather sofa near the fireplace, where a few orange and yellow flames still danced and flickered. Then he set his drink on a side table and sat down, folding his hands over his midsection. Mack wasn't the only one who had forsaken sartorial splendor for comfort. Adam had shed his jacket and shoes some time ago and had freed his own tie from its mooring, along with the top couple of buttons on his shirt.

"Believe it or not, Mack," he continued, "I got that the first time you said it months ago. And the second time you said it. And the third. And the fourth. And the—"

"Until the problem is rectified," she interrupted him, "it bears repeating. For thousands of years, men have deliberately denied us our rightful economic rewards. And there's no end to that tradition in sight."

She, too, moved from behind the bar and strode across the room, taking her seat at the opposite end of the sofa without awaiting invitation. Then she kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her, leaning back into the corner of the couch as if she owned the place. Adam smiled at the picture she presented and considered her lack of inhibition to be a very good thing.

"Hey, men don't deny women anything," he told her. Although his tone was vehement, his pose remained quite casual, and he could only deduce that it was because this was the most comfortable he'd felt for quite some time. A week at least. Man, he'd missed his little chats with Mack. Hell, he might as well admit it—he'd missed Mack.

He'd missed her a lot.

"Women like being dependent on men," he added. "That's their reward for their hard work. They get protection. They get affection. They get us."

She laughed. "You have got to be kidding. Like that's some prize."

He shook his head. "Of course I'm not kidding. Men are a prize. That's why How to Trap a Tycoon is such a phenomenal best-seller. That's why Lauren Grable-Monroe has become such a guru to the modern woman. As annoying as I find her, at least she has the balls to come right out and say what women actually want."

Mack smiled indulgently. "And what, pray tell, is it that women actually want?"

"They want to be taken care of. By men. They want to be protected. By men."

She lifted a hand to her forehead and shook her head slowly, as if she was having trouble processing the words he was saying. "Oh, please," she finally replied. "You have no idea what women want. You have no idea what it's like being a woman in a man's world, nor do you have any idea what it's like to not have money. Not only have you been wealthy from the day you were born, but, well…" She shrugged. "You're a guy."

Adam eyed her thoughtfully for a moment, thinking that the two of them were finally getting around to something they should have gotten around to a loooong time ago. "Gee, Mack, I thought you'd never notice."

"Adam…" she murmured, the warning in her voice unmistakable.

He held up his hands, palm out, in surrender and returned to the matter at hand. "And you do, I assume," he said. "Know what it's like to do without money, I mean," he quickly clarified. "The being a woman in a man's world part, well…" He couldn't help making a slow perusal of her person, taking in the loosened necktie, the open collar of her man-style shirt, and all the soft, round places of her body that her masculine attire did nothing to hide and everything to enhance. "Well, that goes without saying, doesn't it?" he concluded.

She pretended to ignore his perusal, then, just when he thought she was going to ignore that comment, too, she told him, "Yeah. I know what it's like to do without money. I'm a woman, after all."

"So I've noticed."

"Adam…"

"Is that why you majored in sociology?" he asked, this time ignoring her—or, at least, her warning. "Because of your economic disadvantages?"

He was honestly curious about her answer. He really had always wondered why Mack had chosen the major she had. She was a smart woman, certainly capable of excelling at whatever topic she decided to study. Why sociology? Why not something that would enable her to, oh … make a living, perhaps? Just a thought.

She shook her head. "No. I chose sociology because of my own gender disadvantages."

He threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Oh, boy. Here we go again."

"Hey, you asked."

"So I did," he conceded, dropping his arms to fold them back over his midsection. "And I suppose the least I can do is allow you to respond."

Dorsey eyed Adam with a mixture of longing to be close to him and a desire to escape him. How on earth had they wandered down this road? The last thing she