by Anthology
White walls, black carpets, and furniture the color of a decadent burgundy greet me, along with a stunning receptionist who is perched on a chair behind a desk that seems to swallow her.
“Good morning. How can I help you?” she asks. Her smile isn’t plastered on; instead, it’s genuine.
“I’m here for my ten o’clock with Mr. Stone,” I inform her, giving her a kind grin of my own. She nods, taps away on the keyboard for a few seconds before picking up the phone and dialing a number.
“Mr. Stone, your appointment is here.” Her voice is lowered, but I can hear every word. “Yes, Sir. I’ll show her in.” When she hangs up, she rises from her chair and rounds the humungous white oak desk. “This way.” She turns toward the long hallway, which takes us into a smaller area where there are two elevators that look like they’re from a 1950s movie.
I glance her way, taking in her outfit, which is immaculate. Black pencil skirt, bright red blouse, with shiny onyx heels. Her dark hair is pinned neatly in a bun on the back of her head as she leads me toward the silver metal doors.
Once they slide open on a soft ding, we step inside, and she pushes the button for the top floor. Fifteen. It’s not a skyscraper, but I’m sure Mr. Stone has a lovely view. Silence follows us up to the offices, until the doors open and my guide gestures to the floor without stepping out of the elevator.
“He’s waiting,” are the only words she utters before pushing a button, and the doors whoosh close, leaving me on the landing outside two ornate wooden doors. With my hand on the gold doorknob, I twist and push. A soft whoosh beckons me inside, and I’m met with an office that’s both elegant and modern. With soft touches of grays and blues, the black and white artwork compliments the faux leather furniture, along with the one wall of books, which are shelved in a dark oak bookcase. It’s not the space I pictured when I thought of him.
Something about the playboy made me think he’d be seated in an office filled with the usual toys affluent men of his stature have surrounding them. Perhaps more glass, less wood, and for some reason, I thought he’d have his accolades hanging on the walls. But when my gaze trails over the room, it’s bare, bar from a lone painting that hangs opposite his desk.
There’s something sad about it. The colors are dark, almost as if the artist wanted the viewer to feel the pain of the subject. A woman with dark hair, porcelain skin, and pale blue eyes. She’s dressed in a peach-colored dress.
“Ms. Rossi.” His voice teases my name in a baritone which sends a shiver skittering up my spine. I didn’t realize he was British, but the accent is familiar from when I visited. I can’t place where exactly he’s from, which causes me to wonder how long he’s been living in America.
When I finally turn to the desk, where he’s perched on, I’m met with the teal eyes of Landon Stone. His eyes are partly light brown, and the other half a blue-green that reminds me of a lake. It’s alluring, pulling me in as if there’s an invisible cord tugging me closer.
The effect of him, of his aura, surrounds me, grips me in its feral claws, and I know why so many women fall for him, or even drop their panties for him. He emanates sensuality like a cologne.
“Mr. Stone.” I nod, offering him a smile, as I step farther into his domain. This is his kingdom. He rules it. There’s no question about it. “Thank you for meeting with me today,” I say, offering my hand, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the jolt of electricity that shoots all the way down to my toes from the top of my head.
“Anything for a beautiful lady,” he coos in a thick British accent. His voice is husky, causing goosebumps to rise up over my whole body. His large, probably six-foot frame towers over me, and I’m tempted to hide in his warmth. His eyes shimmer with mischief, and I can’t help a small smile from playing on my lips. For a moment, I forget who I am and why I’m here. “How can I make you smile today, Ms. Rossi?” he says, breaking the spell. His boyish charm and masculine confidence holds my attention more than I care for.
Inhaling a deep breath, I respond, hoping to sound confident. It’s been far too long since a man has paid me attention the way he is, and it’s knocking me off my game.
“I’m here to purchase the building on Chestnut Street. It’s vacant at the moment, I have the money, and I’d like to have the papers drawn up as soon as possible.” When I stop for a breath, I realize I’m rambling. I’m talking too fast, and the pitch in my tone is evidence that he’s affected me.
“Easy, Darling.” He chuckles, walking back to his desk, offering me a view of his ass and the way those dark slacks seem to mold to his muscular thighs. Jesus. I need to get my head checked. He gestures to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit. Let’s talk.”
Chapter Four
Landon
I’m enamored.
The woman who’s settling herself in the chair opposite me is incredible. Yes, I’ve been attracted to many women. Beauties from all over the world. But there’s something about Ms. Rossi that makes me want to know more. Learn more.
Her eyes are the color of an ocean in the midst of a thunderous storm—grey and blue—hues of sadness. However, there’s a spark in them; it dances with emotion I’d love to see her unleash fully. My cock thickens. It’s painfully hard as I watch her chest rise and fall with quick breaths. I noticed how she shivered when my hand touched hers.
I affect her.
And that’s all I need to make my play.
“The building you’re wanting is not for sale anymore,” I tell her, causing her to pin me with an icy glare. Fuck, she’s stunning. Even when she’s angry, she’s exquisite. And that makes me even harder.
“What do you mean? The sign on the—”
“It’s not for sale, because I’m pulling it off the market. Something’s come up, and I’ve decided to purchase it myself.” Her eyes glow, like a candle’s been lit behind the blue glass, and she’s about to burn me to ash.
“It was for sale less than twenty-four hours ago. When exactly did you decide this?” she retorts hotly, pushing up from the chair. Her curves are hugged by a black dress that seems to be molded to her frame. Her tits, those incredibly luscious looking globes, taunt me from the low neckline, and I have to shift in my chair to adjust my dick that’s now solid fucking steel.
Lifting my arm, I push the sleeve of my crisp white shirt up and cast a quick glance at my watch. The silver Rolex shimmers from my wrist. I trail my gaze back up to meet her tormented glare, and offer a smirk before replying, “About ten minutes ago when you walked in here and told me you wanted it.” Leaning back, I watch as fire explodes in her beautiful eyes. Her lips, full and bright red, cause my dick to jolt. I’d love to see her lipstick ring around the base of my cock.
“Mr. Stone, be reasonable. There’s plenty more buildings for you to plunder,” she says, softening her tone. Her choice of words has me chuckling. This fucking woman is going to be my end.
“Ms. Rossi, trust me, there are many other things I’d prefer to plunder right now, and a building isn’t one of them.” Her cheeks darken with a rosy hue at my innuendo, but just as swiftly as it appeared, it’s gone, and the ice princess is back.
“I’ve come here to conduct a business arrangement, and if you’d take me seriously, you’d see that I have the capital to close this deal before you leave this office today.” There’s something erotic about a woman who’s strong, sassy, and delightfully bitchy. This siren definitely is all those things and so much more. It’s the so much more that’s got my mind racing with how I can break through that cold exterior to find the warm sensuality I know she’s hiding.
“Fine,” I say, rising to full height as she keeps her gaze on me. I feel it down to my Calvin Klein boxers. “I’ll accept your paperwork, on one condition.” She slowly lifts her gaze as I step around my desk. A slow heated path she follows with those stormy eyes makes my zipper uncomfortably tight. From my shoes up to my chest, landing on my own strange-colored eyes. Since I was a kid, people have told me I’m special, different. My e
yes are teal most of the time, but there’s an odd occasion when they turn blue. It’s subtle. Only a few people notice it, and when she watches me, tipping her head to the side, I know she sees it.
“And what is that?” she asks on a breathy sigh. I love playing this game with her, and I know the next words out of my mouth will put that fire back in her glare.
“Dinner. With me. Tonight, at seven,” I tell her simply.
“No, I don’t—”
“There’s no debate, Ms. Rossi. If you want that building, you’ll have to have dinner with me. It’s not a date, merely a . . . business arrangement. My contingency plan to get to know you before allowing you to purchase a piece of property I’ve had my eye on.”
Her face is stoic for a moment before she shakes her head and rises. Her heels put her about a head’s breadth below my chin. She’s not tiny. She has incredible curves. And with each move of her hips, all I can focus on is how they’d look while I bent her over and fucked her from behind.
Jesus, get a grip, Landon.
“That’s not a good idea, Mr. Stone.” Her accent seduces me. It rolls over me in warm waves. An ocean crashing on the shore. And I gladly allow her to pull me into her depths.
“Then the building is no longer on the market. I trust you can find you way out,” I tell her, buttoning up my suit jacket and turning away from her.
“Wait!” The corner of my mouth lifts in a satisfied smirk.
Right into the net. I love butterflies, and she’s just been caught in my net.
“One dinner,” she bites out. It’s not angry -- it’s defeated. I’ve won too many rounds in the boardroom not to know when I have the upper hand. I don’t know why she wants this building in particular, or why I’m even allowing her to play along. But when I turn to face her, I realize exactly why. This woman is a tangled ball of tension. Anxiety is evident in her gaze, and I know I am capable of undoing every knot she’s holding onto. I want to watch her unravel. To fall apart at the seams. Then, as I slowly wind her strand by perfect strand around my finger, she’ll be in my bed soon. She’s a siren, luring me to my death, but I’m not letting her get away so easily without having her sing for me.
Chapter Five
Elisabet
As soon as I step out of Landon’s office, I feel flustered. He wangled his way into my evening asking me to join him for dinner. Even though he says it’s purely business, I have a feeling a man like him doesn’t keep things purely business. Stalking my way to the exit, my mind is adrift with images of what dinner entails.
This is something I can’t allow to happen. Business and pleasure do not go hand in hand. In fact, they’re the opposite. And I need to keep them separate. Slipping into the driver’s seat of my car, I start the engine while remembering how he smiled. The way his eyes danced with amusement. And the way his hands, those beautifully manicured hands, gripped the pen as he signed the contract for us to go into business together. For me to be his client. I’m not sure why he wanted that, but when I read through it, it all seemed legit, so I signed.
I’m not officially a client of Stone International. I know he has properties for sale across the country, as well as in Europe. Perhaps one day, if I decide to extend my business, he can help.
***
When I pull into the parking lot of the hotel, I can’t believe where the day has gone. Granted, I’ve been to see five suppliers and picked out furniture for the new restaurant. My mind is still on Landon. For some reason, the man has weaseled his way in and I can’t get him out.
I step into my suite and take a deep breath. The beautiful room I’m renting is my safe haven for now. As soon as I step inside, I inhale calming breaths. The man affected me. He shouldn’t. We can’t embark on this stupid plan of his, but I can’t lose that building. He doesn’t know why I want it, and he’ll never find out.
When my phone rings, my heart jolts in my chest. One glance at the screen tells me it’s the one person I was hoping would leave me be.
“Ciao,” I answer, knowing that if I don’t, he’ll follow me to the West Coast, and that’s the last thing I need right now.
“Ciao, Bella.” His response is light, almost too uncaring, because I know this man, and that’s not how he normally speaks to me. “Come stai?”
“I’m fine, Marco. What do you want?” His dark chuckle is my response. It causes me to shudder in fear.
“Is that any way to speak to the man who helped you escape?” His voice is thick with indignation. He knows he’s right, and I can’t argue with that. He did help me. Only because I had no other choice. The life I was stuck in was one that would never have let me escape without Marco’s help.
“I’m tired. You know I didn’t mean to be so abrasive.”
“Si, I know this, Bella. Now tell me, when are you paying me the money that you owe me?” The words jar me. I thought I had more time. That’s why I wanted to purchase the building, open the restaurant, and make a profit before I had to let go of the money I had saved. Granted, there is a lot, but with what I owe Marco, and what the building costs, I’ll never be able to get the restaurant up and running with whatever’s left.
“I need more time, please?” Shutting my eyes, I pray. I beg and plead with the Gods above to help me here. To offer me some mercy, but deep down I know I’m fucked. When Marco Gianetti wants his money, he goes to extremes to get it back.
“Time, Bella, is not something I know very well.”
Nodding, I sigh into the receiver. “I know. I promise you I’ll get it back to you. I just need another couple of months. Once the building is restored, and I can open, there’ll be more profit than you can count.”
“Profit? If you’re lying to me—”
“I’m not. Marco, you’ve known me almost all my life. Have I ever lied to you?” I’m not beyond begging. This is life or death—mine.
He’s silent for a long while, and I wonder if he’s going to refuse. I’ve never been so scared. Fear skyrockets through me, sizzling in my veins as I wait for him to say something. Anything. When I finally slump into the small chair at my kitchen table, he responds.
“Fine. Tre mesi…” Three months.
“Thank you! You will not be sorry, I promise you, Marco,” I tell him as relief is evident in my voice. I know I can do this. All I need to do now is prove to Landon he has to sell me that building. There’s no way I can fail.
Marco hangs up before I have time to thank him once more. It’s my own fault for getting into business with a man like him, but I had no other choice. If it weren’t for him, I’d be dead right now.
Glancing at the time, I realize I have an hour to get ready before my dinner with Landon. I’m not sure what to wear, since this is business. I’m used to dressing up for dinner dates, but for something professional, I’m not accustomed to the correct attire. I head into the bedroom with my mind whirling with possibilities.
As much as I find Landon Stone handsome, alluring, and sexy, I know I’m in no position to even think of this as a date. It’s a professional arrangement. My contingency against losing both my business and my life.
Chapter Six
Landon
The office is quiet as the sun sets behind me. My door swings open, and Dom walks in. He’s still dressed in a black suit which is tailored to fit him perfectly. The man is a walking GQ advert.
“Stone,” he rumbles my last name as he settles himself on the chair that the sweet Ms. Rossi was perched in earlier. I meet his gaze, as his mouth quirks up into a grin. “How was your day?” he questions easily, gesturing to the tumbler of whiskey that’s sitting on my desk.
“It was interesting. I had a rather intriguing meeting this morning,” I offer.
“Yeah,” he says, leaning forward, fascinated. I push off the chair and head to the cabinet to pour my best friend a drink. Once I’ve given him the glass, I sit back in my chair and tell him about Elisabet. “She’s incredible. I’ve asked her to dinner tonight,” I tell him finally.
“I thought you vowed never to mix business with pleasure again. Has this pretty little princess dragged you into her web so easily?” He gulps down the drink and heads to pour another for both of us.
“I don’t think I’m the one caught in her web. I want to fuck her, yes. I’m not saying this is love, Dom.” I school my features, waiting for him to look at me. It’s how he’ll know I’m lying, only this time, I won’t allow my best friend to see how much this woman has gotten under my skin with just one meeting.
He turns to me then, stalking back to my desk. He sets the glass down before smirking at me in that knowing way. “So, you’re tell me you’re just going to fuck her, take her money, and then move on?” His head tips to the side, intrigue written all over his face.
“Yeah. Why not?” I shrug, but it’s not enough. Dominic Hale will see through every ounce of my lie.
“Because I know you, Stone. There’s nothing you do that’s without purpose. There’s more to this woman, and for some reason, my best friend isn’t telling me.”
“Look, she’s fuckable. I need to get my dick wet. Why else would I even look at her?” He regards me warily before flopping into the chair opposite my desk.
“You’re not one to tell me about women. Unless it’s one we’d both wanted and she chose you, which you enjoy using to piss me off. This time, this is different.” He sits back, watches me with those forest-green eyes. They’re dark, the color reminding me of something sordid. That’s Dominic Hale.
“I want her. She’s tentative, and you know I want someone who’ll challenge me.” He nods then. “And, she has a mouth that I could practically live with my dick inside. Elisabet Rossi is different. She’s special.”
“You mean she told you off, and now you’re turned on by her fiery nature?” He chuckles darkly, knowing how much I love a challenge in a woman. Someone who’s not just going to lie there and take what I give her.