Page 11 of Off Limits Mogul

“But I can show you a good time,” she says.

She doesn’t know when to quit.“Let’s keep it professional.”Sorry doll, it’s a hard no for me.

Philly’s eyes move to Keira. “You can’t be serious. She looks like a little girl.”

I glare at her. “I wasn’t asking for your permission.” I walk away without giving Philly a chance to respond.

With eager steps, I stride to my best friend’s little sister.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey.” She drops her bag to the floor, then she removes her baseball cap.

My bewildered eyes travel up and down her petite form, unable to believe how different she looks from the last time I saw the five feet two inches fresh-faced girl standing in front of me.

“You look… your body… your hair… your…”tits.That was some eloquent prose.I pause, searching for my next words because so far, I’ve done a shit job at stringing a cohesive sentence together. I manage to pull my eyes from her chest long enough to say, “Holy…Wow.”Spoken like a man who co-owns a multibillion-dollar company, Hartford.

She’s so tanned. And she’s changed. A lot.

Keira lets out a small laugh before putting the baseball cap back on.

She shoves her hands into her pockets, anchoring her jeans shorts lower on her hips, revealing a bit of her taut stomach.

Goddammit.

The succulent sight makes my mouth water.

Is she doing that on purpose?

I pull my eyes up to hers. “You should’ve at least texted me a photo to warn me.”

“That would’ve killed the surprise.” Her hazel-green eyes dance with mischief.

“I’m going to have to tell your brother off.”

Her expression turns serious. “I requested Noah not to tip you off.”

I wonder why?“What happened? You look so different.”

She licks her lips in a slow motion, as if looking for her words.

I commit the tempting view to memory.

“There’s so much to tell.” She averts her gaze for a beat. “We can talk about it, but not here… someone might recognize me.”

Guilt hits me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”

“It’s okay, Rhys.”

There’s a novel’s worth of words to share, but we simply smile at each other for a long beat.

I was worried about this encounter. I’m glad to see it was all in my head. Her parting words were a slap in the face and since then, we haven’t talked much. After the tragedy that ripped her world apart, I reached out via text. Her responses were succinct.

I break the silence. “Welcome home.”

“It was time.”

“You weren’t ready until now.”