Chapter 27
NATHAN
Goat yoga, laughter therapy, and thankfully the massage with a sumo wrestler was a joke. Instead an actual masseuse appeared in the office and proceeded to pummel all the knots in my neck and shoulders away.
It was exactly what I needed.
It’s finally Friday and the evening of the ball. Twenty minutes earlier than arranged, I rap my knuckles against Arianna’s front door.
For days she’s been fucking with me, I know she has.
I hate admitting it, but for the first time in forever, my muscles don’t feel so tense and I almost feel… relaxed.
I will never forgive her for the goat yoga, but the cold-water therapy the masseuse suggested and massages are something I can totally see myself doing moving forward.
I smirk when Arianna squeals on the other side of the door and I hear her muttering words of annoyance as she gets closer to it. Opening it wide, she shoots me a nervous smile. “You’re early.”
“I am.” I was eager to see her.
She looks down then slowly lets her gaze travel back up my body, clutching at the neckline of her black velvet bathrobe and I can tell she’s nervous tonight. “You look…” She swallows; the V-shaped skin that’s exposed on her chest flushes red. “…good.”
I nod, acknowledging her compliment and wait for her to invite me in.
Instead she continues to stare at me as if in a daydream, or something equally Arianna.
Sometimes she’s really organized and put together and other days she’s lost in her own thoughts and distant.
I can’t seem to work her out, which annoys me because it’s something I’m very good at.
“Can I come in?” I ask, motioning my hand inside her home.
She lays the palm of her hand on her forehead. “Of course, sorry, where are my manners? Come in.” She steps back and holds the door open for me to enter.
When I’m in the small hallway, she closes the door and points to a brightly lit room. “Make yourself at home. I won’t be long; I just need to pin my hair up, then put my dress and shoes on.”
Better yet, just don’t put the dress on. I’d rather she was naked. “Take your time,” I reply.
“Give me ten minutes.” She dashes off down the hallway with a midnight-blue painted ceiling, which I consider a bold choice. I walk inside the living area, to be met with the most unexpected décor.
Painted dark bottle-green walls with a flamingo-pink sofa covered in shocking mustard-colored scatter cushions invite me to take a seat. My senses struggle to take in the tropical maximalist decoration. Gold frames house pink hummingbirds, shocking blue peacocks, and lime-green parrots.
It’s… fucking amazing. I lower myself onto the shocking fuchsia sofa and take in the exotic-looking room filled with giant fern and green houseplants.
I chuckle to myself at the pink banana ornament, then at the zebra one which is wearing a multicolored striped wooly sweater.
My girl is quirkier than she lets on.
Not my girl. Not yet.
Unless she gives us the green light to having some fun together, which I think she will. Having her in my life as more than just my secretary might just scratch my itch… temptation.
She’s tempted, I know she is, because her flirting has moved up a notch.
The laying of her hand on my shoulder, touching my hand when she passes me paperwork, the lightness in her emails, and eye contact.
Fuck me, the eye contact. It’s as if there’s magnetics inside of her and I can’t look away.
Combine that with lip licking and the way she rolls her neck as if the tension is too much, and it points to one thing. She wants me.
We’re great in bed together; how could she not?
I think, tonight, if I show her a little glimpse of my world outside of work, which isn’t much, my family mainly, it might persuade her to take a step into the unknown with me.
For me, it’s a complete black hole too. I’ve never had a relationship before. Hook-ups, yes, and one longer-term arrangement that suited both me and Kyla at the time. But a relationship? Would she want that with me?
Hell, it’s what I want. I’ve made my decision.
Let’s hope she wants that too.
I rest my back against the soft velvet sofa, a complete contrast to my, quite frankly, cold and unwelcoming black leather one in my penthouse, and inhale everything Arianna. It smells like vanilla and lemon and something else that’s much fresher than that. Pine maybe? Hell knows. It’s nice though.
My eyes land on the photo over the fake fireplace that’s covered in more of her jewel-colored knick-knacks and I know straightway that it’s her parents and sister. Emerald eyes and dark hair. Arianna looks just like her mom.
My fists clench in annoyance, angry for all the time she lost with them. What I wouldn’t do to bring them back for her.
I face life-and-death cases every day. Some of those days it kills me hearing what others have suffered.
Specializing in personal injury cases, I don’t deal with small claims and someone who might have sprained a finger while tying their shoelace and want to sue the sneaker company.
What I do is different. I represent people who have genuinely been screwed over and have lost their nearest and dearest or their health due to incompetence or the gross negligence of others.
Every year my brothers and I take on dozens of pro bono cases. It feels good to give back.
The sound of Arianna heading toward the living room makes me sit straighter in my seat and when she walks through the door with her head down and fiddling with a bracelet, my heart stops.
Fuck me. She’s a goddess.
Wrapped in gold silk, hair pinned up, some strands left down at the front that frame her delicate features, accentuating her Bambi-size eyes, she steals all the air from my lungs.
“Could you help me with this?” Sounding flustered, she finally gives up fighting with the fiddly clasp and looks up.
My mouth goes completely dry, and I cough, willing my saliva glands to function properly. “You look beautiful.” If this is what she bought with Joseph the other day, I’m promoting him to Arianna’s personal shopper.
Her cheeks turn a soft shade of rosy pink before she asks, “Is my dress okay?” She looks down at herself as if unsure.
“Perfect.” My brain is glitching again, something that only happens when I’m around her.
“My shoes are cute.” She lifts her foot to show me the huge gold bow around the back of her ankle that matches the gold of her dress. “Thank you for all of this.” She lays her foot back on the floor at the same time I walk to her to help her with her bracelet.
“You don’t need to thank me for the dress.
It was made for you.” My voice is gruff but full of sincerity, and I love that the fire within her to stick thousands of dollars on my credit card wasn’t a threat; she fucking did it and I’m happy she did.
But how the hell will I get through the night with her looking this enchanting?
She’s a vision. I’m spellbound. “Here, let me.” I point to her bracelet and take it from her.
As I lean closer, the whiff of her perfume invades my nostrils, making my pulse quicken.
Steadying my hands, I pinch the tiny gold clasp between my fingertips. It’s fragile and soft, and I don’t want to damage it. “Is this new?”
“It was my mom’s.”
“It’s special.” I pause before continuing. Knowing the delicate bracelet belonged to her mother makes me handle it with greater care. “Like you.”
“She was but I’m not that special.” She brushes away my compliment.
“You are undeniably special, Arianna.” When I click the bracelet into place, I realize just how big my hands are compared to her dainty wrists, and how much I would like to wrap my hands around them and pin her against the wall like I did before.
I’m tempted, but I want to show her there is more to us than just sexual chemistry.
I brush my thumb lightly over her pulse point. I’m not ready to pull away, so I move my hand down to hers and link our fingers before lifting her hand to my lips, and as if captivated, she follows my movement and smiles when I kiss the back of it.
“You’re very sweet when you want to be.” Her voice is barely audible.
“Sweet?” I grin back at her, moving closer, my mouth hovering over hers.
“Yeah.” She rises on her tiptoes and kisses me first. And it’s so unexpected because she’s been resisting me for weeks, driving me insane, but her making the first move breathes new life into any possibility of us.
Her lips feel soft, like what I imagine delicate dragonfly wings fluttering against my skin would feel like.
“I don’t want to ruin your lipstick,” I say, when all I really want to do is kiss her shiny lips for eternity and smudge it.
“It’s clear lip gloss, it’s fine.” She cups my face with her hand and kisses me again, much firmer this time. “But it’s time to go.” I feel her smile against my mouth.
“Let’s stay in.” I run my nose along hers, making her giggle. I love that sound.
“You didn’t buy this dress for me to stay in.” Using the pad of her thumb, she wipes her shiny lipstick off my lips.
“I bought you this dress so I could take it off later.” It’s not a lie. “Admit that you want that too.”
“I do.” She nibbles on her bottom lip, teasing me.
I like how relaxed she is tonight, and I love how she’s giving me little glimpses of her life, and more of her dazzling personality. Something she doesn’t do often.
I understand why. I see it a lot in people who’ve been hurt in their past. Trust is a huge part of letting walls down, and I hope she’s beginning to trust me, so I can finally start chipping away at the stone wall she’s built around herself to let me in.
I think she will, because she’s different tonight.
“Can I ask you something, Nathan?” Smiling up at me, in that dress and looking at me the way she is, she lights up the whole room.
I nod, scared what it might be. We’ve been playing a game of push-pull with each other and whatever I reply, I hope I don’t make her flee again.
Clearing her throat, she asks, “Did you really mean what you said about burning the world down and”—she blinks once, then twice—“that you’d thought about settling down?”
“Meant every word.” I cradle her face in my hand and brush my thumb across her cheek.
“Did you mean… with me?” She gulps.
“I don’t know. If I’m being honest, I don’t know what I’m doing or saying anymore.
” It’s the only answer that makes sense to me right now, because if I go all in, I might scare her away.
Maybe spending more time together will help both of us to figure this thing out.
“This is new for me,” I admit. Another first for me; I’m always prepared, but nothing could have readied me for Arianna arriving in my life like a fucking full-force hurricane, toppling me over.
“I don’t know what I’m doing either,” she confesses, looking at me with a worried expression. “You make me nervous.”
“I think it’s the other way around, baby.” I place her hand over my heart to let her feel how fast it’s beating.
“You do something to me too,” she finally admits, repeating my sentiment from the other night.
I knew it. “Maybe we should embrace whatever is happening between us, then. No more pushing it or each other away and no more running. Sound good?” My face turns serious.
She agrees with a quick nod of her head, settling my nerves and filling my body full of hope.
“Got it?” I ask again, needing clarification and for her to say the words.
“Yes.” Her bright eyes sparkle up at me before she lets go of my hand. “You look hotter than the devil himself in this tuxedo.” Approving of my outfit, she straightens my bow tie, and I lift my chin to allow her to fix it as if we’ve done this a million times before.
I drop my voice and pull her into my arms again because it’s where I like her being, then ask, “Does it bother you how hard I work?”
“No.” She shrugs.
I slide my hand up the exposed skin of her back, desperate to take the fucking dress off so I can appreciate her beautiful curves once more, but know I can’t as we have a ball to attend.
She’s got pretty shoes she wants to show off as well as the dress she spent hours picking out, and who am I to be the one to stop her?
“Ready to have some fun together?” I ask, while my gut ties itself in knots of dishonesty. I want more. I just can’t fucking bring myself to say it again from fear of being rejected.
“Sounds fun ,” she agrees, smiling, and I know she can see straight through me.