“Thank you, Jack. Please show her in,” Denham’s deep voice beckons as the imposing doorman holds the door open for me to enter.
I am met with a modest office, not what I’d expect the owner of such an opulent establishment to have. His desk is set facing of the door with a few filing cabinets lining the walls. I can only see two chairs. One which I presume is his—a high-backed, black leather chair positioned behind the heavy set desk. The other is placed in the corner of the room for guests, I imagine. The lighting is dim, giving the room a cozy feel, almost intimate.
I step over the threshold and stop just inside the doorway. I’m frozen when I see him sitting at his desk, resting both his forearms in front of him, his hands clasped and putting an expensive pair of platinum and diamond cufflinks on display. His shirt is unbuttoned slightly, giving me a glimpse of a hard, sculpted chest. Rough and rugged, but handsome and sexy as hell.
“Come in and close the door, Miss. Jamesson.” He smiles at me as he speaks, but it’s not the warm, inviting smile I’m used to.
I close the door carefully and stand right where I am. I’m no longer excited to see him; he has put me on edge and the look he is giving me is unreadable.
“Good evening,” I say, smiling sweetly. I refuse to show him that I’m nervous.
“Good evening, Nat-a-lie.” He says my name long and slow as drawing the letters out, testing how they sound. His head is tilted slightly to the side, his eyes are narrowed, and his stare is intense.
My throat feels a little tight and I try to swallow the big lump that is forming. My stomach is clenching at the way he’s studyingmy reaction to him, so I raise my chin a little and draw back my shoulders, trying to hide the nervousness that he’s making me feel.
He swirls the last of his drink around his glass. The ice cubes clink, accentuating the silence in the room as he makes me wait for an answer. He drains the last of his drink and places his tumbler carefully on his desk then stands, pushing his chair back with his legs. He walks toward me, his gaze fixed and his movements slow and deliberate. He has an inquisitive look and it’s making me feel like I need to be ready to bolt. He stops just inches in front of me and I instinctively back into the hardwood door. I place a palm flat on the door behind me, sliding it back and forth to try and find the handle.
“Hmm…” he groans, musing his next words.
He’s not touching me, but we’re close enough that I can smell his intoxicating aftershave and the scotch on his breath. He raises his hand and strokes my cheek bone with the back of his fingers, inspecting the break in my skin. “Miss. Jamesson…” He pauses and tilts his head the other way, focusing my attention on his rich-hazel eyes, the dim light making them look dark and mysterious.
“You’re a very intriguing lady, do you know that?” He lets the question linger for a second before continuing “Tell me, who are you this evening, Natalie?” He lets out a small laugh and places his hands on the door, either side of my shoulders, and lowers his head to whisper in my ear. “Are you trying to con me? Is that what this is?” he questions. “I know about you…Arianna.”
His close proximity causes my body to react, but his words cause me to stiffen. I feel the strength of his voice on his breath as it travels along my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
Shit, he knows. How does he know? How much does he know? Lottie wouldn’t have…If he knows, who else does?
“Are you playing me?” he asks.
“No!” I shake my head vigorously, trying to convince him. I put my hands up to his solid chest to push him away, but he’s too fast for me. He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head and holding me against the door with his body. My breaths are hard and fast as I struggle against his grasp. His lips are just millimeters from mine, and all my instincts are telling me to run, but my body wants more. I twist my arms to test his grip. He’s stronger, and his fingers tighten around my wrists.
“Don’t try to run from me, Ari.” It’s a warning and the husky tone of his voice sends a shiver down through my body and settles between my legs, resulting in an ache there I’ve never experienced before. My lips part to let the heavy breaths escape and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.
“Let me out,” I demand through gritted teeth. I’m torn by the conflicting feelings that are being propelled through my body at lightning speed.
Fear.
Desire.
The feeling of a double edged sword.
“No,” he replies sharply. I look at him in surprise, then his voice softens and he returns to the man I’ve become familiar with. “If I thought for one minute that you actually wanted to leave, I’d let you go.”
He releases a low groan before he kisses me hard and fast. It is unexpected and his kiss is unforgiving as he explores every part of my mouth with his tongue which is still cold from the ice in his drink. He steals the air from my body, but somehow gives me so much more than he takes. I feel something shift. Something gives way.
My resolve? Maybe. My sanity? Quite possibly.
But there’s a chance that it could be something deeper and far more superior to that. I’m intoxicated with his presence and his persisting lust.
He loosens his grip on my wrists slightly, I presume to test if I’m going to run, but I don’t, I can’t. The thought that he knows who I am terrifies me, but my body is on fire and I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything.
He clamps both of my wrists in one of his big strong hands, running his other hand down the side of my face. His eyes don’t leave mine as he drags his rough thumb over my bottom lip, and my body reacts involuntarily. I nip the pad of his thumb and he hisses in a breath through his teeth.
He leans into my neck. “Why are you hiding, Arianna?” he whispers before tugging on my earlobe with his teeth.
He takes his hand from my cheek, dragging his fingers along my jaw and down my neck leaving a trail of heat on my skin. He grabs my breast roughly and I gasp with the forceful contact. My nipples are pronounced through the thin fabric of my blouse and he pinches one, hard.
I cry out, arching my back toward him.
