Determined by Elizabeth Brown

Samantha Sharp always knew her direction in life. Do well in school, attend a top university, graduate with honors. Having secured a plum gallery job right after graduation, she was well on her way to accomplishing her goals. That is, until a chance meeting with a handsome stranger made her question her life’s entire course.

Billionaire David Keith was sexy, successful, and on the wish list of every woman in San Francisco. Sam knew it was dangerous to hope she was different than all the women David normally dated, but for the first time, success wasn’t the only thing on Samantha’s mind. Would this distraction be her undoing?

Explicit

When I returned to the bedroom, David was upright in bed, dressed in his own matching white terry cloth robe, checking his phone. He put the phone on the nightstand and turned toward me.

“Is one of your companies in the robe business?” I joked, climbing into the huge bed.

“My companies? You’ve been doing your homework, Ms. Sharp.”

“Just a little internet research”

“I see.” Was he egging me on?

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t a psychopath,” I explained, sweetly.

“And what else did you find out, Ms. Sharp?” he looked at me with lightness in his eyes. I think he was amused.

“Just that you run a very successful venture capital company, and that you have a reputation as quite the ladies’ man …” I trailed off, indicating that perhaps he could address the rumors. He looked at me hard, flirting with his eyes.

“Well, I do in fact own a very successful venture capital company. And as far as the women, I enjoy them, present company especially.”

“Hmmmmm,” I replied slowly, furrowing my brow. I gave him a confident stare. “Are you always this slick?”

“Slick?”

He looked hurt. Or, wait, was he mocking me? I couldn’t tell. Did I offend him? I decided to clarify.

“I mean, you know, with all the ladies you bring back here. You somehow knew that my dress was going to end up on the floor of your bedroom tonight, and look,” I gestured to the pool of sequins, “there it is. You clearly have your routine down, not that I’m complaining …” I trailed off.

His eyes darkened, and his smile faded into a thin line. I stiffened. Crap, was that too far? I didn’t mean to insult him.

He looked away and took a deep breath.

Shit, he is mad. I fucked this up. Way to go, Sharp. You just had the best fucking sex of your life with a hot man-god, and now you’ve blown it. A pit opened in my stomach. I took a deep breath and braced myself.

He turned back to me.

“You seem to have me all figured out, don’t you Ms. Sharp?” His tone was cool and neutral. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Don’t I?” I tried to project confidence, but I was trembling inside. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what was next, but I knew I needed to know. Even if it confirmed what I’d been trying to ignore. If I was going out, at least I was going out guns blazing.

“Well, no, Ms. Sharp.” He stood up and slipped on his boxers before he continued. “Do I go on dates with a lot of women? Yes. In my line of work, I have a variety of social engagements that I must attend as part of my job, and a date is often foisted upon me. Being single and straight in this city also means I am often at the receiving end of every mother and grandmother with a single daughter. Samantha, I am a polite man, and unattached, so I have very few good reasons to refuse a date. So, yes, I do go on a lot of dates. But those dates are different than what is going on here. This,” he gestured to the space between us, “in case you haven’t noticed, Samantha, is electric.”

My heart flew, and I tried desperately to keep a grin from taking over my whole face. He continued.

“Just so we are clear, I do also have sex with some of my dates, kill me, I’m a man. I have needs.” He shrugged his shoulders and sat back on the bed. “But I never bring them here.”

His tone wasn’t angry, but he was more animated than I’d seen him. I didn’t know what to say. We sat there for a moment, staring at the foot of the bed.

“Did you know I was going to be at Curtis’s party?” I asked quietly. I stole a glance at him from the corner of my eye. I had to know.

The corners of his mouth perked up and a devilishness returned to his eyes.

I knew it. I didn’t know it until now, but I knew it all along. It was the confirmation I needed.

“Let me be clear, Samantha, it took all my strength to not sleep with you that night I dropped you off at your studio. And I was willing to wait longer if you had wanted me to, but you were sending off fuck-me signals like crazy.”

“I was sending signals?” I looked at him, amazed at his assessment of the situation. “You bee-lined right for me at the party. And told me you wanted to fuck me.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Well ...”

“I was just being honest,” he said, trying to repress a grin.

“I like honesty.” I leaned in, locking eyes with him, smiling and hoping he understood the double entendre.

The silence dripped with sexual tension, which was then interrupted by the growling of my stomach. Shit, again? How embarrassing.

“Sorry!” I said, quickly bringing my hands to cover my stomach.

David chuckled. “That’s okay. I think we both could use some sustenance.” He picked up his phone. “Do you like raw food? I know a great place that delivers.”

I cocked my head at him. “Seriously?”

“What?” He looked up at me.

“You are not seriously craving kale and tofu in the middle of the night.”

“Tofu isn’t raw, Ms. Sharp.”

“Whatever, Mr. Keith. Come on, live a little.” I leaned forward letting my robe slip open just a little. “A little illicit late night salt and fat is good for the soul.”

“Hmm.” He furrowed his brow as he scrolled through the contacts on his phone. “There is a Chinese place around the corner.”

“Now you’re talking.” And I laid back into the pillows as he called in an order.

Contemporary Romance writer and self-professed Charlie Hunnam junkie, Elizabeth Brown used to make fun of her mom for reading romance novels. Now she's eating her words.