On His List (Entangled Flirts) Read Online Free Page A

while muttering, “C’mon. C’mon. C’mon.”
    “You really don’t like being quiet, do you?”
    Her cheeks flushed with heat. Oh, geez. And this was her “A” game. “I’m trying.”
    “It’s okay. I don’t seem to mind it as much when it’s you.” His eyebrows drew down as he stared at the paper in his hands. She wasn’t sure which was perplexing him—the paper or the fact that he didn’t mind her inability to be silent.
    “Yeah, well, Denny told me not to talk to you.”
    “Even if I start it? That’s a little…unfriendly.”
    Damn that was a hot plate. You’d have to be an idiot not to catch the subtext there. Right? Right?
    Maybe she’d test it again.
    “Well, if you started something, it’d only be polite to respond.” She glanced in the mirror. He was still staring at that paper, but he was smiling again. She mentally willed him to start something. Start something, Owen. You want me. You know you want me .
    “Hmm.”
    She snorted. She couldn’t restrain it. “Hmm?” Maybe he was new to this game.
    He glanced up, met her eyes, and nodded ahead of her. “Your light’s green.” His eyes were pinched at the edges, and his jaw was tight—he was holding back a laugh. It was all about control with him. That was a turn-on too. What would it be like to make a man like that lose control?
    Behind them, a car horn sounded in staccato beats that increased in length.
    Not one to be goaded—by either the man in the backseat or the driver behind them about to pop a vein in their head—Remy held his gaze for an extra second and raised her eyebrows. “Uh-huh.” And then she floored it and started counting green cars. As far as she was concerned, the ball was in his court. And, damn, that was a hot plate.

    When they arrived at their destination twenty-eight green cars later, she asked him, “So, how long here?”
    He glanced at his watch. “Thirty-five minutes. Last time I was here, it took around that long. You should…”
    “I’ll walk around the building. Burn off some energy.”
    He glanced down at her heels. Yeah, she hadn’t completely thought it through. She’d gone for sensual, not practical, and these spiked heels made her legs look fantastic—long and muscular. Hopefully he noticed while he was evaluating the impracticality of her shoes.
    “I’ll be fine, Owen,” she said.
    “You’re sure?”
    She shoved him at the doors of the building, which made him laugh. A woman who’d been taking a call outside looked startled as he went in.
    Remy was wandering around the well-manicured lawn when the woman caught up with her.
    “I’m sorry. This is probably a bit presumptuous of me, but my name is Mallory Frank.” She held out her hand.
    “Remy Maison.” Remy shook the woman’s hand—even though the other lady’s grip was so light it was like shaking a glove without a hand in it.
    Mallory Frank looked like the starchy female version of Owen. That was one expensive business suit. It looked enough like the guys’ version to say she was power-hungry, but female enough to say that she was all soft and curvy and moisturized when needed. You didn’t get that look without throwing lots of money at shops.
    “Mr. Savoy has just never brought anyone with him,” she said. “It’s nice to see he’s human after all.”
    Remy stood there, blinking at her. Uhh. Okay. She wasn’t really with Owen even if she technically was. Even if she wanted to be. In all the bad ways.
    Mallory’s eyes widened. “Oh, don’t tell him I said that. That sounds horrible. I mean, he’s very nice. Just, well, I’m sure you know, he’s very driven.”
    “Driven,” Remy repeated, smiling. This woman wasn’t aware Remy was the literal “driving force” behind him being here. Remy didn’t correct her, though. She should have, but she didn’t. It was validating that Mallory thought a guy like Owen could be with a girl like her. “Can I ask you a question, Mallory?”
    Mallory nodded in an “eager