Free Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) by Suzanne Halliday

next few weeks working with him on a daily basis.
    “So this is for real, then?”
    He cringed at the doubt in her voice. Smart girl. He liked that she wasn’t about to take any bullshit. After all, there was no use in pretending he didn’t have a fuck-load of ulterior motives. Cal felt the drumbeat of arousal inside him kick up a notch.
    “The universe wants you to fix me.”
    Now, in his defense, it’d taken most of last night to come up with that line. He thought it was pretty cute but the frigid expression and arched brow meeting this statement suggested she didn’t agree.
    “Are you making fun of me, Mr. Tyler? Because if that was your intent, fuck off and die.”
    A crash and burn warning bell clanged ominously in his mind. What did Thalia call him? An oafish American? Shit. He googled the word to make sure he got the pejorative wisecrack right.
    Was he stupid? Not really, but sometimes his cerebral humor sailed over others heads.
    How ‘bout uncultured? Well, maybe at one time but he’d been living in Europe for several years and knew how to play the game.
    And then there was clumsy as an oafish descriptor. That one stuck like a spitball hurled from the past. His older brother Jax got all the smooth moves while Cal was left to rely on looks, wiseass charm and a dick that performed well, even under pressure.
    Yeah. He was definitely blowing this. ‘tessa wasn’t like anyone he’d ever known. Cal tensed uncomfortably. Thinking he could dazzle her with his signature seduction was a bone-head miscalculation.
    Grinding his jaw, he thought, Okay, ya dumb fuck. Think! What would Jax do? Fending off the belly laugh that threatened when his imagination lit up like a neon marquee with the acronym W-W-J-D was hella’ hard.
    Soberly as he could, without sounding like a cartoon character, he addressed her direct challenge while consciously leaving any oafish behavior at the door.
    “Actually Baroness, I foolishly thought I was being cute.” Gallantly bowing—bowing made him seem cultured, right?—he offered a mea culpa of sorts. “If I didn’t believe your therapy approach would help, you wouldn’t be here.”
    He caught the flare in her eyes and relaxed. She might be pissed off that he’d manipulated the situation, but that didn’t mean she was there under duress.
    Grinning at her like an idiot, he quipped, “I would have found another way to spin my web.”
    Her soft smile at the reminder of their fly and spider repartee was almost as exhilarating as a victory lap.
    When her expression wasn’t on lock down, she had expressive eyes. Eyes that gave a lot away about what she was thinking and feeling. He felt bad for all of about a nanosecond that he could read her so easily. Unfair advantage? Absofuckinglutely . But just like on the track, he’d use whatever he had to cross the finish line.
    ’‘tessa wanted to cut him a break. It was written all over her face. But he could also see that she was trying to reconcile the obvious attraction between them with her professional responsibilities. Another way she was different.
    Cal didn’t think he was a man-whore but some of his more questionable hook-ups came close to falling into the unsettling category. When the lead reporter for a Bolivian news team flat out told him she’d fuck him senseless for an exclusive, he’d taken her up on the offer and been a cocky bastard about it after.
    He wasn’t completely brain dead. Even the slightest suggestion along those quid pro quo lines and his ‘tessa would be out the door in a flash. And most likely with his crushed balls tucked into her satchel.
    There were times when pushing at the edges was a successful maneuver. Every driver knew that. And there were other times when easing off and holding back showed the path to victory. Watching her closely, he downshifted enough for her to have some space. Let her think about things and see which way she wanted to go.
    What surprised the shit out of him was that he had no