His voice lowered, smoky and husky. “Don’t you worry about me convincing people I want you.” He bent his head to whisper in my ear, “I always put a hundred and ten percent into any job.”

Skin burning hot, sensations tingling in places they had no business tingling, I stumbled back from his overwhelming presence.

What the heck was that?

Avoiding his gaze, I nodded. “Uh-huh. Okay. Well. That is comforting to hear.” I pushed past him to the table where the contract sat and quickly signed. “I’ll make copies and have one couriered over for you for your records and then I’ll be in touch when I need you again, which might be soon because Jackson said Fairchild has been asking about—”

“Tinker Bell, you’re rambling.” Rhys cut me off.

He was grinning. Huge. Self-satisfied. Very, very pleased with himself for rattling me.

The big jerk. “If you’re done crowing, I’ll need your number.” I pulled my cell out of the small backpack I had with me and waited.

Rhys gave me his number.

“Okay. I’ve sent you a text so you have my number now. Text me your bank details. I’ll send the payment at the end of the first month.” I slipped my cell back into my backpack along with the contract. “I’ll be in touch.”

“I’ll be awaiting your call, boss.”

I sniffed haughtily and moved to stride past him. “That’s an improvement on Tinker Bell.”

Just as I cleared his personal space, I felt a tug on my ponytail and let out a little squawk as my hair tumbled down around my shoulders. Whirling around, I glared at the sight of my ponytail holder dangling from his fingertips. “What the heck?”

He shrugged. “No one would believe I’d date a woman who wears a ponytail other than to work out. You have nice hair.” His gaze looked over said hair. “Why hide it?”

“Because,” I said, snatching the holder back, “I rode my bike here and I need to be able to see, not to be constantly shoving windblown locks out of my eyes. I’m sorry if that interferes with your caveman expectations of what constitutes feminine beauty, but if you get to say the F word, I get to wear my ponytail.” I spun away, my strides furious and stompy.

“You got a lot of rage in you, Tinker Bell,” he called at my back.

I pulled open his office door with one hand and threw up my middle finger with the other. His laughter followed me all the way down the hall.

If we made it through this ruse with me going to prison for assault instead of murder, I’d call it a win.

The guy really pushed my buttons.

And I hadn’t even known I had any.

Six

Rhys

AngryTink: Hey. This is Parker. Parker Brown.