Haze(11)

I make a mental note to instruct Sophia on the finer points of dealing with Sage Butler which include never telling her where I am. "What do you want?"

Her gaze falls on the server who is now approaching with her lemon drop martini. "I need a sip before we talk."

I need an entire bottle of scotch before I can carry on a full blown conversation with Sage but I have three meetings that need my attention this afternoon. The glass I've half consumed is my limit for the day. I'll have to rely on that to get me through the remainder of my now ruined lunch.

She sips the drink carefully, rolling the liquid around on her tongue before she swallows it. She tilts her head back slightly. A man sitting at the table next to us watches her movements, his eyes focused on her short black hair. It's styled wildly which only further reflects the woman she can be. The rest of her is flawless, right down to her expensive heels and the impressive diamond ring adorning her left hand.

"What is it, Sage? You've got five minutes before I need to leave."

My words are met with a frown and yet another sip of the martini. "Why weren't you at the club? I wanted to talk to you. I met someone there I think you'll like."

I rub the back of my neck as I watch a server speaking to a couple standing near the entrance. Her hair is blonde and straight, skimming just below her jawline. She's rail thin, clumsy and from what I've seen, not good at her job.

I noticed her the moment I was seated. Her hair color caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. It's the same shade as Isla's but that's where the similarities end. The brief reminder of the woman who convinced me to give her a second chance has been my companion throughout my lunch.

Hell, she's been on my mind since she walked out of my office last night, leaving a trail of her fragrance in her wake. It was a simple combination of jasmine and her skin. It was light, airy and intoxicating.

I had essentially driven her out of the door to halt the temptation I felt to push her on what she was going to do when she invited herself to my office. I wanted to hear the words. I wanted her to tell me step-by-step what would have happened if I wasn't Gabriel Foster, the man who owns Liore, and then I wanted her to show me.

I'd poured myself a drink and sat in my chair after Sophia took her leave. I stared at the lights of lower Manhattan while visions consumed me of things that I'll never have.

Isla spread nude on the sofa in my office with my face buried between her thighs.

Isla in my bed, her perfectly round ass in the air as her greedy whimpers fill the still space.

I take what I want from the women I desire. Once I've had them it's easy to push them aside in favor of who is waiting around the corner. That works well for most women.

I know myself well enough to know when one taste won't be enough. It would be that way with Isla. I felt that the moment she turned to me at the boutique and looked up into my eyes. She has the power to wreck a man, to drive him to his knees in pathetic desperation.

I doubt she even realizes it yet. She's blissfully unaware of the impact she had on me.

It was after one in the morning when I finally called for my driver and left the office, heading home to the spacious, barren penthouse that I've worked so hard for. I'd taken a shower, not cold, but tepid. It did nothing to quell my desire. I knew I could stroke my cock until I came but that would only relieve the physical pressure. Nothing will quiet the suffocating need or want.

I don't know her.

I can't have her.

I need to forget her.

"Gabriel, you're not listening to me, are you?"

I rake my hand through my hair. "I'm not interested, Sage."

"I haven't even told you about her." She finishes her drink in one swift swallow, her tongue lashing out to scoop up any stray liquid off her lips. "She's perfect for you. I know what you like. It wouldn't hurt to meet her."

I chuckle as I open my wallet to retrieve a few bills. I toss them on the table as I stand, reaching down to bring the glass of scotch to my mouth. I drink it all. The liquid burns a hot path across my tongue and down my throat. "It wouldn’t hurt me but we both know it would hurt her."





CHAPTER SEVEN


Isla




"You didn't leave a note, Isla." His voice startles me as I walk over the threshold and into my apartment. "I woke up and you were gone."

I stop in my tracks and stare at him. He's dressed in grey sweatpants and absolutely nothing else. His firm chest is on full display even though he knows he's not supposed to wander around half-clothed. She's nagged him for that time and time again. She may be my very best friend, but apparently she has little trust that I won't throw myself at her boyfriend full force.

"Nigel," I say his name quietly, hoping that I'll be able to find at least a t-shirt he can throw on before Cassia wakes up and discovers he's not in bed with her. "Put on some clothes."

"You said we'd talk about things this morning." He walks towards the sofa, taking long strides. I feel an immediate sense of relief when he tugs a blue sweater over his head. "I got up early so we could do that."

I scrub my hand over my face, pushing a few wayward strands of my hair back in place. "I went for a run. I needed to burn off some energy."

His eyes scan the hallway, stopping to focus on Cassia's bedroom door. "She's fast asleep. She worked late again last night."