RISK(20)

"You'll come with me now." His touch is more insistent. "It's important, Ellie, and it's not a request."

Which means it's an order.

An order unrelated to his store or the employees who are now milling about, sudden exuberance in their voices as they greet customers. His presence is feeding their movements. Their drive to impress him is obvious.

The slight change in the tempo of his breathing gives him away. As do his fingers as they press into my bare flesh as a female customer stands near us, spellbound by our unspoken exchange.

I knead my hands together. "I'll come."

The irony of the words isn't lost on me, or on him. That familiar flash of triumph in his gaze is quickly replaced with a hunger I haven't seen there before. It's a bold and unapologetic hunger for me.

***

"I'm not a complicated man," he says with a sigh.

Is he serious?

He runs the largest cosmetics company in the United States with a keen eye on global expansion. His family's fortune has punctuated New York's highest society for decades, yet his personal life is incredibly private. I should know. I searched his name online and the results were bone bare.

I glance over my shoulder to where he's standing near his office door. He sent his assistant to get a folder from marketing. She had to ask twice if he was sure he needed to see the hard copy for a lipstick ad that ran in a national magazine three years ago. He insisted, she questioned again and finally she left. That's when he closed the door to his office before he slid his suit jacket from his shoulders.

"You strike me as a very complicated man," I reply honestly.

"Do I now?"

I watch as he meticulously rolls up one sleeve of his dress shirt and then the other. The result is an unobstructed view of his muscular forearms. My eyes flick across his skin before they settle on his face. "You do, yes."

He tugs on the front of his black pants before he lowers himself in the chair next to me. I anticipated him being in the chair behind his desk where he sits all day as he makes decisions that impact the lives of each and every one of his employees, including me. He's close now. Almost too close given the fact that I still have no idea why I'm here.

"You're wrong, Ellie." His gaze travels over the green skirt and white blouse I'm wearing before it lands directly on my face. "My life is simple. I need very few things."

"What things do you need, Nolan?"

"I need a good bottle of cabernet, a steak cooked to perfection and a beautiful redhead to share them with."





Chapter 14


Ellie




"Just to be clear, Ellie. The redhead I'm referring to is you."

I nod. I didn't respond when he first said he only needs wine, steak and me. As if a man like him could be content with a good meal, a glass of an expensive vintage red and my company. It may satisfy him for a few hours, or an entire night but then he'd be back on the prowl and every day I'd be forced to face a man I once f*cked. If he was bad in bed, it might not be a problem. I doubt that Nolan Black has ever f*cked a woman and left her unsatisfied.

"That's a flattering invitation." My lips purse. "I can't accept it, though."

He freezes in place, his eyes honed in on my face. "You're not accepting? Why?"

I could use Liam as an excuse, but that would be unfair to both men. Comparing them is impossible. One is friendship material wrapped into a rugged, long-haired beast. The other is refined and cultured. He wears wealth with ease, and his kisses must steal a part of a woman's soul that she'll never get back, even after he's had his fill and left her with an ache between her legs and in her heart.

Nolan Black could destroy me from the inside out. I sense it when he looks at me with his brilliant blue eyes that see into parts of me even I hide from.

"I don't think it's a good idea," I answer evenly. "I found out the hard way that mixing business with pleasure is a mistake."

"I see." He leans back in the chair, his long legs crossing at the knee. His fingers strum a beat on his thigh. "Do you think your job will be impacted if we share a dinner?"

He's smarter than that. He knows exactly what I'm talking about. He wants to hear me tell him that I don't think I can handle a good hard f*ck followed by a brief it's not you, it's me speech or a ghosting. That's how Tad Darling dumped me. His name was a poetic parody of the man bearing it.

We met in New York, f*cked in Boston and then moved to Las Vegas once I had a massive diamond ring on my finger. It ended as most relationships with affluent, emotionally vacant, * chasing men do. With no respect for what once was in the form of an empty goodbye. In Tad's case, the goodbye came two months after he had all my belongings packed up and delivered to my office. His phone number changed, and the locks on our apartment were replaced, just as quickly as I was.

"That's been my experience in the past," I confess. "Dynamics change when that line is crossed."

He studies my face. "Only if the two people involved don't handle it properly."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Please." He waves his hand in the air before his fingers settle on his chin. "Ask away, Ellie."

"If I have dinner with you, what do you expect from me?"