Rock 'n' Roll Step Dads: School of Sex (Rock 'N' Roll Step Dads Series Part 1) by Anita Lawless

you.”
    He quirked an eyebrow up. “You have a problem with self confidence?”
    “No,” I said. “But with dripping arrogance? Yeah, I’ve got a little problem with that.”
    He gave me a sideways smirk and chuckled. He leaned forward and put a hand on my knee. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, sweetie.”
    “Don’t call me sweetie, either,” I snapped, brushing his hand away.
    He held his palms up in a gesture of surrender that surprised me. “Is this about the hating women thing?”
    I felt my face heat, and I covered it with one hand. “Lynette told you that?”
    He plucked some ice from a round chest in a mini bar in the back of the limo, plopped it in a glass, and poured amber colored scotch over the clear cubes. All the while, he smirked smugly at me. “You shouldn’t believe rumors and tabloid gossip columnists.” He took a sip.
    “Some of those rumors come from very good sources,” I countered, swatting an annoying strand of sable hair from my eyes
    “Still, there are three sides to every story,” he said, moving from his seat across to sit by me on the opposite side of the stretch luxury car. “Yours, mine, and the truth.”
    He had me there, I thought, as he trailed a finger up my slender arm. “Touche.” Then I plucked the finger away and returned his smarminess with some of my own. “Hey, I thought you were gay?”
    He gave me a disapproving look and turned the table on me. “Is there anything wrong with that?”
    “Of course not,” I sputtered. “My brother’s gay, thank you very much. And I love his partner more than him, but that’s another story.”
    “No, I’m not gay, and I don’t hate women.” He shook his head and narrowed his eyes as he studied my face. I could tell he was reading me, looking for something, and his blatant perusal unsettled me. I could smell a hint of scotch on his breath. “Let me tell you where the misogyny charge comes from. I have a problem with anyone—male or female—who enters a relationship on false pretenses. In short, I don’t like people who marry for money. Gold diggers, if you will, disgust me.”
    His lips were inches from mine now, and they were far too kissable for my safety. “Some people don’t marry for love.” I shrugged, then tried to casually put some space between him and I by placing my shoulder purse there and subtly inching back. “Some make deals. To some people, it’s still a contract. A more mutually beneficial one these day, but I get it.”
    He wore a scathing expression that made him look like he was smelling really bad cheese. “Would you do such a thing?”
    “No, I prefer to be self sufficient, and I work hard to stay that way.” I maintained eye contact, not wanting to back down to his intimidation. “I don’t like to let anyone have too much power over me.”
    He nodded and his eyes narrowed further. I felt like a dare passed between us, and he’d just accepted the challenge.
    “But everyone’s different,” I continued. “I try not to judge. Who knows why someone chooses to go the route they do. Life can get complicated.”
    He kept staring, not wanting to break the eye contact and lose the challenge either. “Yes, I know that all too well.” His words held a cryptic air.
    I decided to change the subject. “So, why me?”
    “To design the suit?”
    I nodded.
    The predatory, yet undeniably sexy, smile returned. “Because I plan on seducing you during your stay, Kitty. You see, you may not know me, but I’ve read all about you and your fast climb up the fashion world ladder.” The smooth pad of his thumb glided down my cheek. “I want to take you into my world. The suit you’re going to design is a very special suit, and in order to do it, you’ll need to experience every side of me fully.”
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