Page 6 of Illicit Education

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Page 6 of Illicit Education

Anticipation bubbled beneath my skin as I waited for the blonde woman to leave me alone with the little romance author again.

Because shehadto be a romance author. The way she’d reacted to my comment, so quick to defend Simona Steele, assuming the intent behind my words was the start of an attack on the author herself or the genre she represented. Then there was the passion in her eyes when she spoke on the subject. Figure in the fact that she was headed up to Reed Romance–apparent by the number still lit up on the display of buttons–it was obvious that she was another in a long line of aspiring authors who hoped Reed Publishing would make their dreams come true. I hadn’t realized authors still hand-delivered submissions, but her tenacity was commendable, if misplaced.

She was a bit young to be a literary agent, early twenties at most. Unlike most agents I dealt with, seasoned and soured by the industry, those big dark brown eyes still held a sense of wonder, the bright youthfulness of hope–beneath all the anger misdirected toward me.

Anger mixed with lust so potent it radiated off of her in waves.

But I didn’t make a habit of sleeping with my authors.

We stopped again at sixty-two, and the blonde finally strode past me, throwing a seductive smile over her shoulder in what was just one more feeble attempt to get my attention in a long line of many.

“Call me,” she said as the doors closed.

I bit back a groan.Not likely.Turning toward the brunette, I said, “You were saying?”

She startled, then her eyes narrowed as she recalled her train of thought from before we’d been interrupted. “Yes. As I was saying… there is absolutely nothing wrong with reading romance novels.” She huffed, but I waited patiently for her to continue, if for nothing else but the desire to see more of that righteous indignation in her eyes. “It’s amulti-million-dollar industry, you know.”

“You don’t say,” I drawled. I found myself amused with the fact that she clearly had no idea who I was. The gift of anonymity was rare indeed, especially in this building. Growing up in the shadow of the great Cabot Reed brought me wealth beyond compare, but it also brought me notoriety. My lineage represented power. Control. The Reed name elicited fear and resentment in our enemies, envy in everyone else.

As heir to the throne, women wanted me for one reason only. Men, on the other hand, wanted to take me down.

They say it’s lonely at the top, and they aren’t lying.

She met my gaze in the reflection of the doors.

I cocked an eyebrow in challenge, eager for her to continue explaining the ins and outs of my industry.

“Sales of romance novels rival those of inspirational books… and even mystery,” she said, the words coming out faster the more heated she became. “For your information, SimonaSteele,” she practically growled, “is bigger than even King right now.”

“Larry?” I deadpanned.

She sputtered, then shook her head. “What?”

“Larry King?” I rolled my lips to keep from smiling as I poked the bear.

“Who?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. She really was too young for me. “No,StephenKing.”

Her frustration was adorable.

Focusing on her smart mouth, I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and her lips parted, but she recovered quickly, scowling before continuing her diatribe.

“While you’re busy readingHedge Funds for Dummiesor…I don’t know,Nepotism News,” she snarled, “romance novels are almost always at the top of the charts–at any given moment. USA Today, New York Times… you name it and romance authorsdominate.”

The way she’d emphasized that word sent a message to my cock, but I ignored it, focusing instead on the implication that I achieved all that I had because of my family ties.Nepotism News?Did she actually know who I was?

She couldn’t possibly. If she knew who I was, this little tête-à-têtewould have gone significantly differently.

Although, she did still have the rebelliousness of youth, an air of defiance mixed with hope–the world hadn’t extinguished her flame yet. I was drawn to her… my palms itching to claim, my cock twitching to conquer. I tilted my head as I considered her. Would she allow that?

As if following my thoughts, she closed her mouth and shook her head, then ripped her gaze from mine to focus on the numbers above the doors.

“Look at me,” I commanded.

Her eyes shot to mine. Surprise mixed with desire amid velvety brown.

I dropped my gaze, wanting so badly to slant my lips over that smart mouth and give her a tongue lashing she’d not soon forget.

Her lips parted.




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