Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             No, no, no. Don’t go there, Mae. He’s not being kind. He must have a hidden agenda.

                             “Unless you dislike reading?” He arches an eyebrow. Goddammit. He has to stop doing that. It tingles my chest every single time.

                             Clearing my throat, I take quick steps to his side. My fingertips run along the endless titles of English, French, and Russian literature. Many of them aren’t translated to English. I check the covers and the careful way they’re wrapped. Holy... These are the first editions.

                             “You can’t choose?”

                             I whirl towards Aaron’s calm voice. The gentleman kind of calm. He’s standing not so far from me, half-leaning on a shelf. One of his hands in his pocket, a tiny gleam in his eyes. This is the first time he seems to have let his guard down.

                             “There are many.” I smile. “Which one is your favourite?”

                             “I don’t have favourites.”

                             I run my finger over one of Balzac’s books. “In nothing?”

                             “In nothing.”

                             “That’s a lie.” I smirk, finally getting the power. “I can cite many of your favourites.”

                             He raises both of his eyebrows. “Enlighten me.”

                             “Humph.” I tuck my hair back in a dramatic gesture. “For one, black is obviously your favourite...” I trail when his almost-smile greets me, amusement tugging on the corners of his eyes.

                             “Go ahead. My favourite what? Colour? Is an artist supposed to call black a colour?”

                             The bastard. He almost got me. I gulp. “Your favourite animals are cats. Although it’s a bigger cat, a jaguar is still a cat nonetheless.” I bump my chest out. “How about that?”

                             “I have Dobermans and hunting hounds too.” He leans close, the smirk still animating his face. “I also ride Jet. Never occurred to you that horses are also animals?”

                             “You...” I scratch my mind at something— anything. I refuse to lose. I inspect him up and down, then smile. “You prefer formal wear. You can’t deny that!”

                             “I wear sports’ clothes when I’m boxing.”

                             Oh, he boxes? Makes sense. His body is honed to perfection.

                             “I assume that’s all you got, mouse.” He turns before I’m given any chance to retort.

                             My neck stretches, glancing at the neat pile of paper atop his desk. “Do you work in the business field?”

                             He sits behind the table, both elbows on the wooden surface, his fingers forming a steeple near his chin. His face is inert, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes that compel me to continue talking. “Dad is also in stocks’ trading. He’s a first generation millionaire. All his assets were built by his own effort. He’s my role model and the most successful person I know.”

                             “Why didn’t you follow in his steps?” His voice is modulated, but it isn’t emotionless. At the matter of fact, it gives a clear hint of curiosity.