SEVER Jane, Melissa (management books to read .TXT) 📖

haven’t had to time to remove had been removed.”

“He hung your artwork and removed your boxes?”

I nod again, thinking how my luck has taken such a drastic turn. While I suspected Kane to simply be seducing me for his own pleasure, it turns out the man also knows how to treat a woman in and outside of the bedroom.

Amanda leans back on the chair and sighs. “I can’t even get a boyfriend to put his dirty plate in the sink. You must have one magical pussy.”

I shift slightly in my chair, feeling the remaining ache. “It’s not feeling very magical at the moment.”

Amanda giggles before a sudden realization dawns. She slaps her palm on my table, eyes wide. “Holy shit!”

“What?”

“Little Red.”

“What about it?”

She sighs in exasperation. “He did fuck you good. The original Red is not like the others. You became his original Red, Blythe. Stripped naked and eaten alive by the Big Bad Wolf.”

“I don’t think your version of ‘eaten alive’ equates to the original fairy-tale’s intention.”

She waves a hand in dismissal. “Semantics. It means exactly what Kane Alexander intended it to mean. You can’t sugarcoat that shit. That man had you in his sights long before you even knew his name.”

Maybe she’s right, except I can’t shake the feeling that last night was simply a taster of what to expect come the main meal.

“So, sex-god aside… how do you know the man isn’t some kind of psychopath?”

That’s an excellent question.

“I don’t.”

12

D ear Blythe,

I trust you slept well.

I would like to discuss a time suitable to preview your concepts.

Also, these are a replacement for the damage I caused.

Yours,

Kane

A replacement?

Damage?

What’s he talking about?

A knock at the door causes me to jump. It seems whenever I hear from Kane, I forget about the rest of the world.

“Blythe Blakely?” The delivery man stands at the door, a parcel in one hand and a clipboard tucked under his arm.

“That’s me,” I reply, curious as to how he got by Amanda.

The man walks in and hands me an inch-high square box wrapped in a beautiful dark purple bow. I sign the paperwork and stare at the gift as the delivery man leaves me be.

“What have you done, Kane?”

Pulling the ribbon, I push it aside and lift the white lid, a smile stretching across my face while the memories of last night come flooding back, along with the ache between my legs. A pair of black silk and lace panties stare up from the pink tissue paper. I touch the soft, fine fabric, recalling how my torn G lay discarded on the floor this morning after Kane had torn it from my body. Putting the lid back on and stowing the gift in my drawer, I compose a reply.

Kane,

Your timing is impeccable… and so is your taste. Thank you.

Name a time and place and I’ll be there.

Blythe

P.S. You made me late for work.

I sit back and drum my fingers on the table, unable to hide my smile when another email alert pings.

Dear Blythe,

Always my pleasure, even when giving you yours.

Tomorrow at eight. There’ll be a black SUV outside your apartment. The driver’s name is Carlyle.

Yours,

Kane

P.S. If I had my way, you’d be late for work every day.

Cheeky bastard.

I don’t stand a chance against Kane Alexander. Not even if I want to. I’m startled by yet another knock, this time it’s Amanda. She hurries in with a purpose and takes a seat opposite me, itching to reveal her news like an excited fourth-grader desperate to beat all the other kids to the answer.

“Spill.”

She releases the breath she’s been holding and the words pour out. “Well, you know how you asked me to investigate the building with the red door,” she says without waiting for a response. “Well, it turns out it’s unnamed for a reason, and I just happen to know someone, a connection, who begrudgingly at first was able to reveal some information about it.”

“Who is this person?”

“I can’t explain that just yet. But I can tell you it’s exclusive. You can’t get into this place being a nobody.”

“And what about your source? Is he or she a somebody?”

“Yes, and they’ve been a member for a year.”

“So, how does one become a member of this club?”

Amanda inches forward on her seat. “Well, that’s the thing. It’s less of a club and more a… society.”

“Like a secret society?”

“Exactly!”

Samantha’s working in some secret society? No wonder she couldn’t tell me. But what’s so important about it that she can’t tell me?

“So what… is this like Da Vinci Code secret society? Is sacrificing involved? A cult?”

I want to tell Amanda the reason behind my questioning, but I decide to hold that info close to my chest.

“Well, my source refused to go into detail. In fact, when I pressed for answers as to what made it secret, he pretty much declined to talk any more. That was except for one thing…”

“And what’s that?”

“When I asked how does one get into such a place, he said only those within a certain tax bracket are even considered. He said he’s allowed to invite one guest a year as part of his membership, but because he travels a lot he hasn’t had the chance.”

“You should go. Be his plus one.”

“I asked already, but like I said, whoever it is needs to fall within the tax bracket and unless you plan on giving me a considerable pay increase, I’m gonna have to sit this one out. I am happy to take one for the team should you happen to change your mind.”

“Sorry, that’s unlikely to happen.”

“It