Читать книгу Internal Affairs - Alana Matthews - Страница 11

Sloan despised himself sometimes.

It didn’t happen often, and it was never because of the things he’d done—and he had done quite a few sketchy things in his life.

No, this occasional self-loathing came down to one thing. How he felt. About Lisa, in particular.

His entire life, Sloan had never had trouble getting women. He was, after all, a good-looking guy—something he’d been well aware of since his second birthday.

His mother used to dote on him, call him her little movie star. The girls in middle and high school used to stare at him as he walked the halls, hoping he’d grace them with a glance of his piercing blue eyes. And if you were to put him in a lineup with Brad Pitt and George Clooney, well, let’s just say those two cretins would have to fight for attention.

This wasn’t ego at work. Sloan merely saw what he saw when he looked in the mirror, and knew what he knew. And when he snapped his fingers, the women came running as if they hadn’t had a meal in a week and were just dying to get a taste of Oliver Sloan.

But that Lisa, she was different.

No amount of good looks and charm could crack its way through that cement wall she’d built around her, and that aggravated Sloan no end. Yet she had gotten so deep under his skin that he felt an itch every time he was around her. A desire so strong that he lost control. Almost felt powerless in her presence.

And Sloan didn’t like feeling powerless.