Page 6 of Heated Takeover

“Really?” she asks. “Compared to my sister and everyone else in this industry, I’m pretty sure I’m a daisy in a field of roses.”

“More like an orchid,” I say, and her eyes narrow in thought.

“Why an orchid?”

“Orchids are lovely, underrated, and delicate in how they bloom only when watered and nurtured in a very specific way. A way many don’t have the time, patience, or understanding to do. But they are also resilient when made to thrive.”

She swallows and clears her throat.

“Poetic,” she says. She truly isn’t used to being complimented. It’s shocking to me, and yet I love the idea of being the one to change that.

“Your sister’s not a rose, by the way,” I state.

“No? Overly bright and loud and attention-grabbing?”

“Roses are beautiful,” I say.

“And you don’t think my sister is beautiful?” she asks, standing up in front of the glass.

“Based on her words and actions, and the way she treats others, especially you? No, I don’t. At all,” I say, walking over to her. “I’m done talking about her. I want to talk about you.”

She turns around to look at me and gasps in surprise that I am standing right in front of her.

Suddenly, I think I might be wrong about the Ferris wheel. It might be a thrill ride after all.

Chapter 3

Natalie

“What would you like to know?” I ask because I’m not really sure what else to say to a man like this. His very presence seems to fill up the entire gondola and even makes the ocean outside seem small in comparison. He could ask the waves to be still, and they probably would be at the snap of his fingers.

He could probably do a lot with his fingers…

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“You know my sister’s name, but you don’t know mine?” I ask.

“Like I said, she’s the squeaky wheel of the Blythe family. And I do know your name; I just want to hear you say it,” he says. If that’s a line, it’s a damn good one. Now if I could just remember what my damn name is!

“Natalie,” I tell him as casually as possible.

“Natalie,” he says my name like it’s dripping with honey. It sounds infinitely more attractive coming out of his mouth. I think he could read me the manual to my car and I’d find it sexy.

“Tell me, Natalie. We are up here, alone, away from all the chaos down there. We can stay up here as long as we want. We can do anything we want,” he says, softly taking my hand in his. He caresses the top of my hand with the pad of his thumb, and it sends a little zing of electricity clear to my toes. It’s very unlike me to put myself in these types of situations, but I couldn’t stop myself when he asked me to ride with him. It was like I was being pulled with him by some unseen force.

I don’t sleep around but I find myself wanting to do a lot of things right now. And I want to do them with this man, with Ash.

He seems to be very high-up in the hospitality industry, and yet, I have no clue who he is. I would remember a man like him…

“Yeah?” I ask clumsily. “What did you have in mind?”

“What do you want, Natalie?” he asks. He says my name like it is the most erotic word in the dictionary.

“I…I don’t know,” I stutter. I don’t know how to answer him. “I’ve never been asked that before,” I say.

“Never?” he asks. “You mean to tell me that you walk around with lips like those and eyes the color of sea glass and no man has ever asked you what you want?”

This man is made of lines or poetry. I’m not sure I know the difference. I’m not really used to having to decipher these kinds of things. I’m a wallflower, always in the background. I’m used to being referred to as Reese Blythe’s little sister. I’m the other Blythe sister. The spotlight usually never finds me.