by Erika Wilde
As soon as she met Hunter’s gaze, his eyes warmed and a slow, devastatingly sexy smile eased across those lips that had given her such sinful pleasure. God, he was so gorgeous it was almost criminal. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants with a collared shirt that was casual and understated compared to the tuxedo he’d worn the first time she’d met him, but it was the confident way he carried himself that reminded her that there was nothing laid-back about this man beneath the attire.
“Hi,” she said when Hunter and his sister reached her, hating how breathless she sounded when she’d been striving for a more professional greeting. “It’s nice to see you again, Hunter.”
Amusement passed across his expression, that she was trying to relegate him to strictly a business dealing. “Hello, Elaina,” he replied, using her full given name, which sounded so intimate in his low, deep voice. “I’d like you to meet my sister, Tempest. Tempest, Elle Darian.”
Elle shifted her gaze to his sister, who was dressed in a stylish dark blue sheath dress that complemented her slender figure, and red-soled shoes. Politely, Elle extended her hand toward the other woman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Tempest’s handshake was warm, friendly, but firm—giving the impression that she was a strong businesswoman in a man’s world. Then she grinned gregariously, her eyes sparkling with delight. “So, I finally get to meet Hunter’s Cinderella.”
Elle’s cheeks warmed at Tempest’s comment. “Excuse me?”
“That crystal-encrusted shoe you left behind at Hunter’s? That’s a classic Cinderella moment, of course,” the other woman explained, making Elle’s face heat even more that Hunter’s sister knew those specific details.
Hunter rolled his eyes at Tempest in a playful way. “Don’t mind my sister. She’s a bit fanciful, and I think planning the fairy-tale ball for the past year has warped her perception of reality.”
Tempest jabbed her brother in the side with her elbow, causing Hunter to smirk at her. Elle watched the interaction and sibling bond with a bit of envy. Growing up, she’d always wanted a brother or a sister, and Gwen and Claire didn’t count since they’d always been mean girls and either ignored her or treated Elle as though she was nothing more than a roommate they tolerated.
The ping of the elevator arriving back on the main floor thankfully interrupted their Cinderella conversation, and seconds later, Penelope was heading in their direction, an amicable smile on her face. It didn’t escape Elle’s notice that her friend gave Hunter a deliberate once-over before meeting Elle’s gaze with an unmistakable look of approval in her eyes.
As soon as Penelope reached them, Elle made the introductions, and once that was done, her friend focused her attention on Tempest, her demeanor now all business.
“So, Hunter tells me you’re looking for a specific kind of building, and this one might suit your needs?” Penelope asked.
“Yes.” Tempest glanced around the first floor, seemingly taking it all in. “I really liked what Hunter showed me with the photos that were posted online. This place is in a fantastic location, and it’s great that the interior and exterior of the building have been renovated and modernized so all I’d have to do is focus on the interior design. A walk-through of the other floors will tell me if this building is the one.”
“Okay, then, let’s get started,” Penelope said enthusiastically, and cast a quick glance toward Elle and Hunter. “Would you two like to come along?”
Hunter shook his head. “My sister knows exactly what her needs are and what she’s looking for in a building,” he said easily. “I’m here strictly for Elle.”
Penelope arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Ahhh, a decisive man,” she said, her tone impressed. “I like you already.”
Hunter flashed her a charming grin. “Nice to know I have an ally.”
Once Tempest and Penelope were enclosed in the elevator and she was alone with Hunter, Elle shifted anxiously on her feet and met his piercing golden-brown gaze that conjured wicked memories of their night together and made her traitorous body ache for his touch.
“So . . . how have you been?” She nearly groaned at the stupid, mundane words that slipped from her mouth.
He slid his hands into the front pockets of his pants. “I’ve been pretty damned frustrated, actually,” he replied, his tone droll. “I wake up after a fucking amazing night with you only to find you gone, with no way to contact you.”
“I thought it would be easier on both of us if I just left.” Definitely easier on her so she didn’t get attached to a man she couldn’t have and had no time for. Her ex was proof that patience when dealing with her mess of a life only went so far.
His voice dropped a few deep, seductive octaves. “Given the choice, I wouldn’t have let you go.”
The honesty in his eyes and on his face wreaked havoc with her heart. “But we both agreed—”
“I changed my mind,” he said, cutting off her protest. “You changed my mind, Elle. And wanting a woman the way I want you hasn’t happened in a very long time.”
Her pulse fluttered wildly, and she swallowed hard as she stared into his unwavering gaze. She wasn’t sure how to reply to something so raw and revealing from a man who’d been the epitome of control during the course of their night together, so much so that she never would have imagined he’d felt anything more than lust and desire.
So, she changed the subject instead to something safer. “How did you find me? I’m assuming it wasn’t by accident or coincidence when you were perusing listings on our website.”
“No.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his sexy mouth. “Michael remembered who you were and the name on your invitation. I’ve had your information for a while, and I would have contacted you much sooner, but I had a family emergency that kept me tied up for the past several weeks.”
Concern rippled through her since she knew he’d lost his parents and he was close with his siblings. “Is everything okay with your family?”
He frowned for a moment, and she didn’t miss the dark shadows that filtered through his gaze. “Honestly, things were really bad for a while, but everything is fine now, thank God.”
“Good.” He seemed very affected by whatever had happened, and even though she was curious to know what had caused him so much worry, she didn’t press for more when he was being so vague to begin with. “I’m assuming you brought my other shoe?” she asked instead.
“I have it . . . just not with me,” he said, surprising her after what he’d told Penelope about meeting Elle here to return it. “Have dinner with me and I’ll give it back.”
“So, you’re holding my shoe hostage?” she asked, her voice brimming with mirth, and that bit of humor felt good after the shitty day she’d had.
He laughed at her question, and the deep, husky sound seemed to find its way to every one of her erogenous zones. “Maybe. I think it’s a fair trade after you ran out on me.”
She struggled with her better judgment. “Hunter . . . I really shouldn’t.”
He tipped his head, regarding her too flirtatiously as he reached out and entwined a strand of her hair around his finger, ensnaring her in more ways than one. “How badly do you want your shoe back?” he teased.
Good God, what a loaded question. How badly did she want the shoe? Almost as much as she wanted Hunter a second time. No, that wasn’t true. She’d sacrifice both of those heels to feel Hunter’s mouth on hers again, his hands on her body, then pinning her down while he took her to exquisite heights of pleasure . . .
“It just a meal, Just Elle,” he murmured, his husky voice so incredibly persuasive as he gave her hair a gentle tug that reminded her of how his fingers had felt tangled in the strands and pulling on them in the throes of passion. “I’m assuming you need to eat dinner, right?”
Why was she resisting spending a little more time with him when he gave her a brief reprieve from all her troubles? It was a Friday evening, and even though she had plans to be at the office t
omorrow, it wasn’t as though she was going to be out all night long. They’d go to a restaurant, where they’d be surrounded by people and she wouldn’t be able to give in to the desire welling up inside her for this man, and where she’d be safe from what her body craved.
Her stomach had thankfully settled, and if she was careful about what she ordered, she’d be fine, she reasoned. “Okay,” she agreed.
Slowly, gradually, sensually, he released her hair, his satisfaction obvious. “I’ll feed you, give you back your shoe, and anything beyond that is totally up to you.”
The man was temptation personified, and turning down what he was offering was incredibly difficult but necessary, because he could easily claim all her mental focus if she let him. He was a distraction she wanted in her life but definitely couldn’t afford to have right now.
“Just dinner,” she said, trying to sound firm. “And my shoe.”
He chuckled as if she’d just issued him a challenge. “We’ll see, Just Elle.”
The elevator pinged, and when the double doors slid open, the two women walked back out. Penelope wore that look that told Elle she’d sealed the deal, and Tempest’s excitement was nearly tangible.
“So, what do you think?” Elle asked Tempest, though the other woman’s expression already revealed what her answer would be.
“Oh, my God. This building is perfect.” She clasped her hands to her chest enthusiastically. “This place exceeded my expectations and I want it. Penelope is putting in an offer for me this evening before anyone else has the chance to see what a great building this is.”
Elle smiled at the other woman and voiced her curious question. “Do you mind me asking what you plan to do with the place?”
“I already asked,” Penelope cut in with a laugh. “She’s going to create erotic spaces and rooms for couples to fulfill their hottest, wildest fantasies. The name of the place is going to be Wilder Things.”
Elle’s eyes widened in surprise, because that had been the last thing she’d been expecting. However, it was an original concept that would do well in the area . . . and admittedly, Elle was intrigued by the entire notion. “That’s an amazing idea,” she said, meaning it.
“Thank you. I think so, too.” Tempest beamed. “Hunter and Maddux will be silent partners, but for the most part, this is going to be all mine to create from scratch.”
Elle was truly impressed.
“We’re heading back to the office to write up the offer and get it submitted this evening.” Penelope glanced curiously from Elle to Hunter, then back again, as if trying to figure out what had transpired between them. “You ready to go, Elle?”
“Actually, she’s coming to dinner with me,” Hunter said before Elle could reply. “Tempest and I drove separately, and I’m assuming by the one car that was here when we arrived that you and Elle came together, so it shouldn’t be an issue if Elle and I head out separately.”
Penelope grinned. “No problem here.”
They all headed back outside, and when Penelope and Tempest got into their individual cars and drove off, she figured she and Hunter would do the same. Except he hadn’t yet unlocked his car for her to get inside. Instead, he met her gaze and smiled.
“I’m pretty familiar with this area, and there’s a fantastic Italian restaurant within walking distance if that sounds good?”
“Sure.” Since her stomach was currently behaving, she’d keep her meal light. “Lead the way.”
Reaching out, he grabbed her hand in his and entwined their fingers as if they were a couple, and Elle had to remind themselves that they weren’t. But her body wasn’t listening to that memo. She suddenly felt carefree and happy and excited to be spending a few hours with him, and because she’d had so little of any of that in her life lately, she decided to enjoy the moment and the next hour or so in his company.
They headed down the street, passing other businesses on their way until they arrived at Giando on the Water, which was a fine-dining establishment and was already busy with a Friday-evening crowd. When they reached the hostess stand, Hunter dazzled the young girl behind the podium with a charismatic smile.
“Welcome to Giando on the Water,” Bianca—according to the name tag pinned on her blouse—greeted them. “Do you have reservations for dinner?”
Hunter shook his head. “No—”
“I’m very sorry, sir,” Bianca cut him off. “But right now it’s a two-hour wait unless you have a reservation.”
“I understand.” Hunter’s voice was smooth and courteous. “By chance, Is Franco, the manager, working this evening?”
The other girl’s eyes widened, as if realizing that Hunter might be someone important. “Yes, he is.” Bianca spoke into the small device attached to the collar of her blouse, that was also connected to an earpiece. “Franco, can you please come up to the podium? Someone is here to see you.”
A few minutes later, a good-looking man in a pristine black suit appeared, about the same age as Hunter, and as soon as the other man saw Hunter, a wide smile lit up his face.
“Wilder! It’s so good to see you. It’s been too long,” Franco said jovially as their handshake transitioned into one of those man hugs that was accompanied by a firm slap on the back.
“I was in the area and wanted to take my date to the best restaurant in the neighborhood,” Hunter said once they’d separated. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a reservation, but I was hoping you might have an extra table on the VIP level?”
“For you and your beautiful lady, absolutely.” Franco grinned at Elle. “I have the perfect table for the two of you. Follow me.”
They headed down a corridor away from the main dining area that led to an elevator, and once the three of them were inside and making their way up to the second level, Elle asked, “So, how do you two know each other?”
“We grew up in the same neighborhood in Brooklyn,” Franco said before Hunter could reply, though her question hadn’t been directed to either man in particular. “We went to the same high school, played on the same football teams, and I spent a lot of time at his house when I was a teenager, until his parents were . . .” He seemed to catch himself before revealing more than he’d intended. “Well, until they died.”
Elle glanced at Hunter’s face, but his expression gave nothing away. Until his parents were . . . what? She had no idea how his parents had passed, but Elle’s gut told her that something tragic must have happened.
“This way,” Franco said as soon as the double doors slid open.
The second level was much quieter and the atmosphere and setting more intimate, including the big, warm hand that Hunter settled at the small of her back as they trailed behind Franco. Instead of tables out in the open, the small room had a row of tall, private booths facing the windows and the river view beyond. Even though there were a few other guests already up in the VIP area, their conversation was buffered by the high circular partitions surrounding each individual setting.
“Here you go,” Franco finally said as they arrived at their booth, which was smaller than the others and clearly designed for just two people and equally private. The only people who would see them would be the waitstaff when they came around to serve them.
Elle scooted into the booth, and Hunter did the same, leaving a few inches between them, and before Franco left, he placed his hand on Hunter’s shoulder and regarded him solemnly.
“Hey, I heard about your brother getting shot last week,” the other man said, startling Elle with that bit of news. “I’m glad to hear he’s okay.”
“Thanks.” Hunter nodded at Franco. “Me, too.”
When Franco left their table and they were finally alone, Elle stared at Hunter incredulously. “Your brother was shot?”
A grim look passed across Hunter’s features. “Yes. All part of that family emergency that kept me tied up for the past few weeks that I mentioned to you earlier.”
She blinked at him in shock, still trying to digest that scary realization. He’
d told her his family was fine, but clearly his brother’s life had been in jeopardy. So many questions ran through her mind. “What happened?”
He sighed and gave her a faint smile. “It’s a long story, so let’s go ahead and order first,” he said as their waiter appeared with menus.
The gentleman took their drink orders, and by the time he arrived back with a premium bourbon for Hunter and a prosecco for her—which Elle hoped would be mild enough for her stomach—they’d decided what they wanted to eat.
“I’ll have a bowl of your minestrone soup,” she told the waiter.
“And for your entrée?” the gentleman asked.
Elle shook her head and smiled at him. “That’s all I’d like. Thank you.”
Hunter frowned at her but went ahead and ordered the New York shell steak, medium rare, for himself. They handed off their menus and Hunter was quick to give her an unhappy look.
“Soup?” he asked, his tone ringing with exasperation. “Out of all the fantastic entrees on the menu, that’s what you’re having? I can afford your meal, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
She laughed because that was the last thing that concerned her, though he didn’t look amused. “It’s really all I want. My stomach has been . . . weird the past few days. I’m okay right now, but I don’t want to eat anything too heavy.”
Worry knitted his brows as his gaze searched her face. “Are you getting sick?”
If it was the flu, she figured she’d have full-blown symptoms by now and a fever, which she didn’t. “No . . . the nausea comes and goes.”
His gaze narrowed, and he was quiet for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out the issue. “Are you pregnant?”
Her jaw dropped open, then snapped shut, the blunt, unexpected question taking Elle aback. Holy crap. Had he really asked her if she was pregnant? Judging by his genuine expression, yes . . . yes, he had. And she was at a loss for words. How had this conversation gotten so off track by her ordering a bowl of soup?