Chapter 14
ARI
I run across the hall in my stockinged feet to my front door, surprised that someone is ringing my doorbell so early in the morning. I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee yet.
“Just a minute,” I call out, tucking my cream silk shirt inside the waistband of my black pencil skirt.
Grabbing my keys off the entryway table, I stick my key in to unlock the door, then use the thumb turn on the deadbolts, both top and bottom, allowing me to open it fully.
“Good morning, Ms. Donovan, my name is Jenkins.” A man dressed in a fine black suit greets me cheerfully.
“Morning,” I reply, unsure who he is but recognize him from somewhere. Then it dawns on me. It’s Nathan’s driver, the one from the first night we slept together. I was like a cat in heat that night. How embarrassing.
“I’m here to drive you to the Logan settlement conference.”
“That’s a bit unnecessary.” I usually make my own way to out-of-court settlements.
“Mr. Hart insisted.”
Oh, did he now?
I look over Jenkins’ shoulder to discover Nathan’s shiny black limo parked up in front of my house.
How flashy.
“Can we stop for coffee on the way?” I ask, excited because I’ll be traveling to work in style this morning.
“There is already one waiting for you inside the car.”
I feel like a movie star. “Thank you.”
“And a banana and caramel muffin,” Jenkins adds.
They are my favorite. I ate one at my desk yesterday for lunch.
Did Nathan notice and tell him what I liked? Surely not; he had his head stuck in files for ninety-nine percent of the day. I swear a bomb could go off and he wouldn’t notice.
I recall Nathan’s words from last night. I see and hear everything.
Of course he told Jenkins what to order for me this morning.
Which is sweet of him, and awful; mostly awful.
But it also shows his caring side. Why does he have to be so nice?
Or is this all part of his game? Because after last night, he left me desperate for more and he knew what he was doing.
He’s not a nice guy. He’s the devil in the flesh.
The worst kind of temptation. A tease. Goddammit.
Pushing my thumb over my shoulder, I inform Jenkins, “I’ll just grab my things.”
He nods his acknowledgment.
Excited, I skip along the hallway and enter my bedroom.
Slipping my shoes on, I put on my favorite black blazer with the big gold buttons, then check my appearance in the mirror one last time.
“You’ll do.” I comb my fingers through my hair to fluff it out before lifting my work bag off the floor, and I’m out the door, ready to face another day in record time.
Hands behind his back, standing waiting for me as rigid as a soldier, Jenkins only breaks character to open the door for me when I get closer and his mouth breaks into a gigantic smile. “Ms. Donovan.” He nods.
“Thank you, Jenkins, but please call me Ari.” I make my request before sliding into the back seat and get the fright of my life when I realize someone is already inside.
Nathan.
Softly closing the car door, Jenkins seals us inside before getting into the driver’s seat then proceeds to raise the glass divider between the rear seats and the front of the car, giving us some privacy.
“Good morning, Arianna.” Nathan’s voice is smooth and sultry, every word steady and wrapping around me like melted golden honey; rich and irresistible.
I nod, my mouth refusing to cooperate, anxiety creeping in as I realize I’ve found myself once again in a situation where I’m far too close for comfort. And alone with him.
When I place my work bag on the floor, he hands me a to-go cup. “One grande flat white with extra hot steamed oat milk, one pump of cinnamon dolce syrup, and a double shot of espresso.”
Holy shit.
He must listen to every conversation I have.
Nathan places a brown paper bag between us on the leather seat. “And a banana and caramel breakfast muffin.”
As if hypnotized, I wrap my fingers around the to-go cup, unable to take my eyes off him, or control the rapid beat of my heart.
He shakes his head and mutters something under his breath I don’t catch then opens the lid of the laptop that’s resting on his knees. “Are all the settlement documents ready for today?” he asks firmly, getting straight down to business.
“Yes,” I reply. “I have the settlement agreement drafted which includes all the terms you discussed with the opposing party.” I typed them up when I went home last night.
“I also have the waivers and confidentiality forms ready for everyone to review and sign once we finalize everything. I read the opposing party’s latest offer and we’re all on the same page. ”
I look over at him to find him staring at me as if in awe.
He gives me a curt nod, which is a complete contrast to how he was with me last night when he spanked me, something I never thought I would enjoy, but did.
“You’re efficient, thank you, Arianna.”
“I’ve done this before.” Many times. “This isn’t my first rodeo.” I take a sip of my coffee, the strong caffeine increasing my energy levels in a flash and warming my throat, which always seems to go drier than a box of crackers when I’m around him.
He breaks our gaze, his concentration returning to his inbox. “We could be in this meeting all day.” He lets out a long sigh, knowing our day needs our full attention.
“I know.” It’s all part of the negotiation process and if they fall through then we go back to square one. Sometimes clients change their minds and decide to go to trial even during negotiations. I hope that doesn’t happen for Nathan today.
Keeping his head bowed, tapping his fingers against his laptop keyboard, he asks, “Can you keep an eye on everyone’s responses today? I’m tempted to push for more settlement money depending on those.”
“Absolutely, and I called James”—our client—“early this morning, and he had already arrived for the meeting.”
James’ wife was killed when the brakes failed on their new car. I was up most of the night reading the case file, and after months of denying it, the motor company finally admitted liability.
Nathan stares at his laptop screen. “I know James is desperate to move forward. After today, maybe he can finally get some closure following the death of his wife. Not that ten million dollars will ever bring her back.”
“No money in the world will ever bring my beautiful family back.” As soon as I’ve said those words, I instantly regret it, but I just couldn’t help myself.
To me, their lives were priceless, as are all the future memories we could have made together but which can never be anything more than a wish for me now.
If only things could have been different.
But they’re not, and there aren’t enough miracles in the world available to bring them back.
I jump, making my coffee slosh about in my cup, when Nathan slams the lid of his laptop shut then slides it onto the seat opposite us.
“What happened to your family, Arianna?” he asks, his voice full of curiosity and determination, his face mirroring the same.
He looks… concerned… sorry for me… like he cares?
Which he shouldn’t. I don’t want his sympathy.
“They died.” It sounds so clinical when I say it like that, but there’s no dressing it up and putting a pretty bow on it. It happened.
His eyes narrow, crinkling at the edges, and I can almost hear the next question he’s desperate to ask running around his brain, because it’s always the same one that follows every time I tell anyone that my family died.
“In a car crash,” I answer his non-vocal question.
“I was fifteen. I survived.” My grip around my coffee cup tightens, and I turn away to focus on the scenery out the window before swiping away a tear that’s rolled down my cheek.
“They didn’t.” Sometimes, like now, my emotions get the better of me and I can’t stop them from overwhelming me.
There’s a huge stretch of silence that rolls by until he finally says, “I’m so sorry, Arianna.
” The warmth of his hand on my thigh makes me want to lower my defenses and allow him to leave it there because I find it comforting, but I can’t.
Instead, I swivel my legs away from him and his hand disappears.
“Is the scar along your shoulder blade from the crash?” he asks slowly.
When he touched it, I begged him not to. But if only he knew that sometimes even I can’t look at it. It makes me feel guilty; that I lived, and they didn’t.
When I don’t respond, I think he might push for more detail, but thankfully he doesn’t, letting me wallow like a hippo in my own grief.
“Eat.” The muffin he bought for me appears in my lap. Much softer than before, he says, “If this case is too close to your heart and you find it too difficult to sit in on the negotiations today, please tell me.”
“I’ll be fine.” I’m not feeling one bit hungry, but I don’t want to talk anymore, so I open the brown paper bag, lift the muffin out of it, and take a bite. I almost moan when the flavor of caramelly goodness and banana fills my mouth, awakening my senses.
My stomach groans in appreciation. Maybe I am hungry after all.
“I hate that you lost your family.” His husky voice is filled with genuine compassion that makes me want to climb into his lap and curl myself around him, because I know what being wrapped in his arms feels like. Like home. Which they shouldn’t.
There’s no rhyme or reason to us.
Working for him isn’t permanent. I’m here for one purpose, and hopefully, it brings justice for my family and the closure I so deeply need.
“Thank you.” I turn away, feeling guilty about my reasons for being here, but I can’t let him cloud my emotions.
Time passes and I have almost finished my delicious muffin which has made me feel so much better, pulling me out of my sadness. I cast a nervous glance in Nathan’s direction when I feel him staring at me again.
“You’re very beautiful,” he says out of the blue, then adds, “I find it difficult to concentrate when you’re around.”
His confession has heat flushing in waves over my skin.
Not only am I a traitor but my body is too. It knows what it wants… Him.
Dropping his attention to my mouth, he sucks in a breath of the heated air between us. The tension is almost too much as heat pools between my thighs, my skin tingling with anticipation.
I push the last bit of muffin into my mouth then lick the sticky caramel topping off my lips. In a heartbeat, his entire demeanor changes, his shoulder stiff as if on high alert.
He points at my lip. “You missed a crumb.” His voice is low and dangerous sounding.
When I curl my tongue at the corner of my mouth to get it, he leans over at the same time and runs his finger over my bottom lip, unexpectedly causing the tip of my tongue to hit the tip of his finger, and I swear he growls, which sounds so good.
Holding a prolonged gaze, the intensity of it burns through my soul, destroying any fragment of logical thought out of my brain.
I have no control over my senses and before I realize what I’m doing, I’m sucking his finger into my mouth and licking the topping off the same finger that was buried deep inside my pussy last night.
With my lips firmly sealed around his finger, he swallows a deep groan, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in an audible gulp when I swirl my tongue around his digit, once, then twice.
Tasting his intoxicating cologne on his fingers makes my brain glitch, neither of us attempting to end our connection.
“Arianna.” He draws out the four syllables of my name, which sounds like a warning that if I keep tasting him, he won’t be responsible for his actions. His breathing grows heavier, his chest moving in and out like he’s trying to control himself.
What the hell am I doing?
I push his finger out of my mouth with my tongue and shake my head, confused with the effect he has over me.
Why can’t I resist him?
“Nothing can happen between us,” I whisper, disappointed in myself for allowing things to go too far yet again.
He bares his teeth, almost snarling at me, as if annoyed that I drew a line in the sand, bringing an end to us. Whatever us means. There can never be an us .
He remains silent, and his movements are jerky when he sits back in his seat, picks his laptop back up again and returns to work.
“Email the settlement agreement, waivers, and confidentiality forms to me,” he demands, speaking deeper, his words clipped. Then he bolts on a “Please” at the end.
“Okay.”
Well, this is awkward.
Welcome to another day in hell.