16 Did I Pass?

** Harper **

Harper blinked.

Eli pulled away with a curse. He reached into his pocket and cut off the incoming call. "Sorry, I forgot to silence it. Should've known someone would always call at the worst time."

Harper only stared at him, and she licked her lips.

The taste of him was still fresh against her mouth. The seductive warmth of his touch still lingered on her skin. She didn't want it to stop — would it be an option to just sit here and kiss him all night?

"Harper?"

She snapped out of her daze when Eli called her name. Oh, right. This was a lesson. She was supposed to be learning. This was not supposed to be a passionate make out session for her to swoon over … Except it somehow was.

She smiled sheepishly and untangled her fingers from Eli's hair. "Ah, well, that was … fun." She went for a casual tone. "Did I pass?"

Eli chuckled. "You aren't nearly as out of practice as you tried to convince me. Though even if you were, isn't that what I'm here for?"

Harper laughed. With some reluctance, she got up from his lap. The loss of contact against her thighs sent a dull sense of longing gnawing at her insides, and she regretfully ignored it. She had to try hard not to ask if he could just keep doing "what he's here for" and pick things back up wherever they'd left it.

"I could certainly use a lot more practice to make perfect," she replied, deciding that would be the right amount of enthusiasm to show after just one go of their new arrangement.

Eli's gaze followed her as she reseated herself back on the couch. Then it shifted to the coffee table, and he smiled wryly. "Well, it's certainly not a bad idea to get practice in more ways than relying solely on 'deriving art from art'." He nodded toward a stack of books in the far corner.

Harper looked in the direction he was pointing at. She immediately went stiff.

Damn. She had forgotten to clear out those books from the table before he arrived. On the bottom of the stack was a pile of her most guilty reads — My Gentle Master, Ninety-Nine Shades of Seduction, Cruel Mate …

"I've read some of these before, by the way," Eli added casually. "They're better than most, though sometimes not entirely accurate or realistic. If I remember correctly," —he reached over, pulling one of the paperbacks out of the pile— "this one has a scene where the guy puts cherries inside the girl."

Harper peeked over his shoulder. "Actually, not cherries. Candied hawthorns. I mean, it's fantasy romance anyway, so things can afford to be a little different—"

The correction was out of her mouth before she could think twice to stop it. Oh God, what was she doing? Was she really trying to discuss a kinky sex scene with Eli? Was she really trying to argue with him that licking melted candy between a girl's legs — magical spells guarding against health risks or not — seemed pretty hot in her perspective?

No no no. She wasn't going to go there. That would be even more embarrassing than the movie night.

"Um, you know what? You've been here for quite a while now, and I haven't even gotten you anything to drink." She changed the subject stiffly and got up from her seat. "Would you prefer beer or cider or something else?"

Before Eli could even answer, she was off to the kitchen, fleeing with her burning cheeks.

~ ~

** Eli **

Eli stared at Harper's back and chuckled. "Just seltzer is fine," he called as she ducked behind the fridge door.

The little dove was shy again. Somehow, he thought he'd never get tired of seeing that adorable flush of pink over her face.

When the sound of shifting bottles started echoing in the kitchen, he leaned back into the couch, wondering how things could've gotten even more unreal since his arrival. The shy little girl — who wanted to learn how to write the best sex scenes, yet would blush and flee at a mere discussion of one — had struck such an audacious deal with him. And he had agreed.

He had even kissed her …

He decided not to think too deeply about the implausibility of all of it. After all, it was only the beginning. There would be plenty of time for both of them to get used to this new arrangement. He reached into his pocket and fished out his phone instead, glancing at the missed message.

[ Justin: I've canceled your reservation tonight. Miss Jones wants to know if you're free for dinner next weekend instead. ]

A clink of glasses sounded, followed by the fridge closing. Eli tucked his phone away just as Harper made her way back with two cans.

"Oh, the call you missed," Harper nodded at his phone as she handed him one of the cans. "I hope it's not something important?"

"Nah, just my assistant giving me schedule updates. Thanks—" Eli took the can and sipped.

Strawberry lemonade hard seltzer. Apparently that was still her favorite.

"You … have an assistant?" Harper asked. Something flashed briefly in her eyes. "She must be … quite busy, to have to be responsible for your weekend schedules too."

Oh, shit. For the second time tonight, Eli realized he had probably just said something that came out completely misleading. "Oh, no, it's not like that … And it's a he, anyway. My assistant's job is usually to keep me on top of meetings and travel arrangements, but sometimes when work-related stuff inevitably bleeds into my personal life, I find it easier to just let him take care of all the logistics. So yeah, I suppose he does work a bit overtime."

Harper stared at him dubiously.

Eli heaved a sigh. "I'm being honest. I don't have enough patience to try to work around my own schedule, even on my best days."

Harper appeared to be considering his words quite seriously. "What kind of job keeps you that busy, anyway?" she asked. "You only told me you work at an investment bank. But Chelsea does too — the friend of mine that talked to you about my book — and she still has her weekends to herself. Besides … These days, even senior managers don't usually get personal assistants anymore."

Eli raised an eyebrow at her reasoning. Was this girl still suspicious about the assistant? Or was she somehow thinking that he was making a cover story full of holes while he was really working as a government spy?

"Well." He cleared his throat, deciding that he might as well give her the full story. "I suppose you can say … that my current job is trying to disinherit myself from my father's business."