The Curvy Voice Coach and the Billionaire Actor (He Wanted Me Pregnant!) Read Free Page A

stared at the screen, tears filling my eyes, and watched the flashing alert as it rang and rang and rang….
    ...and stopped.
    There. If there’d been some last hope that I’d get the job, I’d missed it. Probably for the best.
    Just as I put the laptop down on the table, a text message popped up.
    Can we talk?
    I blinked back tears. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t speak to him, not after he’d seen me.
    Please?
    I sniffed, my chest tight. And then, without quite knowing why, I hit the call button.
    Tanner answered immediately. Just him—I couldn’t see his agent anywhere. And this time I wasn’t in as much of a panic. This time, I could actually look at him.
    He was behind a big oak desk and there were books behind him—a study, maybe. He looked wrong in that room, somehow, like a bear that had wandered into a library. He hulked over the computer at his end, looking down into the camera’s lens, his shoulders almost filling the width of the screen.
    He was in a black t-shirt that showed off the chiseled slabs of his pecs and clung tight around his thick biceps. He was smiling—sort of. That perfect, full lower lip seemed to be twisting into a grin and the dimples in his stubble-dusted cheeks seemed to confirm it, but...it was hesitant. Almost nervous. Why on earth would he be nervous?
    His hand was over his eyes. And then, as my gazed drifted up to his soft, black hair, I got my first live taste of his voice. It was a rumble, almost a vibration through my body rather than something I heard. Slow and thick like treacle, taking his time with each syllable, the drawl stringing together the words into an incantation that penetrated deep into my brain, rippled down my spine and ended in a hot, glowing throb between my legs.
    I suddenly understood how he’d bedded so many starlets. The movie version of him wasn’t a patch on real life.
    I stared at him, his hand still over his eyes, and my brain finally stopped reveling in the feel of his voice and deciphered what he’d said. He’d said, “Are you decent, now?”
    I could have taken it the wrong way. I could have assumed he was horrified and disgusted at seeing me naked, and wanted to make sure that it was safe to look. But something about the way he said it told me that wasn’t the case. He said it as if he was a gentleman. As if he wanted to spare my modesty. That couldn’t be right, for a bad boy.
    “Yes,” I whispered. “You can look.” I sat down in the chair.
    Tanner slowly removed his hand. And now he definitely did smile, a big, wide smile that made my heart lift—for a second.
    “You always answer your calls naked?” he asked.
    I felt my cheeks flush beet-red. “No. I’m not used to video calls—”
    “Oh! But you do walk around your apartment naked?” Weirdly, he said it as if he liked the idea
    “No! I was in the bath and I—”
    Suddenly, the full force of it hit me. I was jilling off to you about five minutes ago. Every drop of blood in my body rushed to my face. “I was...washing,” I croaked. Then, defensively, “You called an hour late!”
    Tanner frowned. “Didn’t we say noon? It’s noon.”
    All the frustration I’d felt before when he didn’t call came bubbling back again. Anger was good. It helped to push back a little of my humiliation and stopped me wanting to just grab a cushion to hide behind. “You’re eight hours behind us. I checked.”
    Tanner smirked. “We’re eight hours behind GMT. But you’re one hour ahead of that. You’re still on daylight saving time and we’re not.”
    My jaw dropped. “They—They have different dates for putting the clocks forward?! That’s just confusing!” My cheeks flared even more. So they hadn’t been being rude at all. They’d called exactly when they said they would, only to find me naked. “It’s ridiculous,” I blustered. “How can anyone be expected to—”
    “Relax, Charlotte. We’re here now. No big deal.”
    No big deal?! You just saw me naked! Every inch