GONE - Part Three (The GONE Series Book 3) by Deborah Bladon Page B

feel like being a twenty-two-year-old woman carrying around the name of a four-year-old. Libby? I've hated the name since I was in grade school. It screams sweetness and light.
    "Libby?" he repeats it back. "I like it."
    "What's your name?" I try to sound somewhat invested in this. I know his type. I've met dozens of guys just like this since I've moved to Manhattan. He's looking for a quick fuck. He's wearing an incredibly expensive three-piece suit and cuff links that cost more than my first, and only, car. I wouldn't be surprised if most women fall to their knees in his presence and give him and his dick exactly what they want. It can't hurt that he's got the most intense green eyes I've ever seen and jet black hair that is tousled enough to make him look that much more irresistible.
    "You didn't answer my question." He takes a heavy step towards me as more people enter the elevator on the third floor.
    I push back into the chrome bar, the coolness of it seeping through my thin t-shirt. I almost wish I would have worn something nicer to the rehearsal hall. Who knew I'd end up face-to-face with this? "What question?"
    "Have you fucked anyone in the chorus, Libby?" His voice is deep and intimate. It's too intimate for such a small, crowded place.
    "That's none of your business." I inhale the scent of his cologne. It's luxurious, subtle and intoxicating.
    His hand darts to my waist as more people join the most interesting elevator ride I've ever encountered. "It's more my business than you know."
    I roll my hips away from him. I can't want this man. I can't let any man tear my attention away from my work. "I doubt that," I whisper. "I really doubt that."
    "Don't doubt me, Libby." He pushes his body closer to mine, the unmistakable firm outline of his cock pressing against my stomach.
    I breathe a heavy sigh of relief as the elevator finally chimes its arrival on the fourteenth floor. "This is my stop." I try to push past him, but his hand holds firm to my waist.
    "It's mine too." His right hand jumps to the wall behind me, trapping me in place. "Allow me to formally introduce myself before you run off."
    My eyes dart over his shoulder to where Claudia is throwing me a confused look as she exits the lift. "I need to go," I say. "I can't be late."
    "Don't worry about being late. I'm Alec Hughes."
    "You're Alec Hughes?" I feel my breath catch. "You're the investor. You own my play."
    "Correction, Libby." He leans in closer until his lips are almost touching mine. "I own the play. You work for me."
     
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About the Author
     
    Deborah Bladon has never read a romance hero she didn't like. Her love for romance novels began when she was old enough to board the bus, library card in hand to check out the newest Harlequin paperbacks. She's a Canadian by heart, and by passport, but