Free Three and a Half Weeks by Lulu Astor Page B

felt this way in the boardroom, never with any other female, never in a fight I couldn’t win . This woman has me twisted in knots . He laughs. If she only knew.
    Checking his watch, he expects she’ll be here in about five minutes. His driver called as soon as he picked her up at her hotel.
    The door opens and he catches his breath. Not her. It’s a young waiter in a black suit that appears a bit too large for him. “Would you care to order drinks, sir?”
    “Yes. I’d like a bottle of the California Malbec . Also, some mineral water. Thank you.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    As the waiter opens the door to take his leave, she is suddenly there in the doorway, the light from the hall radiating around her like an aura, and deepening the impact of the moment. When Ian makes eye contact, it feels as if the air gets immediately sucked out of the room, leaving him desperate for oxygen. He takes a step back before even realizing what it will say about his frame of mind.
    Ella. She looks ethereal, angelic even, if angels wore killer heels. Her hair has gotten much longer, the soft waves cascade well past her shoulder blades, nearly to her waist. She’s wearing fitted black pants that highlight some of her best attributes, and a silver silk camisole, over which she has on a mesh silver sweater, open so it covers only her arms. A belt with a huge buckle sits low on her hips—as do the pants—matching her sterling jewelry that catches teasing glints from the lamplight, and her shoes are black patent leather fuck-me stilettos. The phrase dressed to kill springs to mind and he smiles slowly.
    He forces himself to stand still and wait for her to come to him, all the while his eyes drinking in every ounce of her. Yes, she looks different: more confident, a bit older, even thinner. But she also looks the same: sweet, unpretentious, and possibly… terrified.
    Good .
    He holds out his hand as she approaches. “Ariel. I’m pleased to see you.”
    “Ian.” She places her hand in his and pulls it back just as quickly.
    “Please, have a seat.” He holds out her chair as she sits and then returns to his own. “You look beautiful. I hope all is well with you… apart from our little situation?”
    She nods, taking a few moments to appraise the man in front of her. He’s as handsome as she remembered—more handsome than the picture stubbornly residing in her memory: the impossibly strong jaw, straight nose, mercurial eyes, long lashes, and gracefully arched brows. Oh, and that illicitly sensual mouth. The things he could do with that mouth. Naturally, everything is in proportion and topped by a headful of lustrous hair. She wouldn’t even think about the body underneath his custom-tailored clothing. For Ella, that was wading into treacherous waters since she could barely resist him physically without even going there.
    There are some changes, though. He looks leaner now and his eyes aren’t as bright as before; in fact, if Ella were pressed to say, she’d swear he looks haunted. But why? It couldn’t have anything to do with the lawsuit, could it?
    “Yes, thank you, Ian. You look good, as well. And… how are you?”
    “Fine. Business is hectic, but that’s par for the course. Other than that, life is fairly serene.”
    The waiter returns with the bottle, opens it, and pours a bit into his glass to taste. Ian does and nods his approval, anxious for the man to make himself scarce. “Very good, thank you.” After pouring the wine and water, the server retreats quickly.
    Ian turns his full attention back to the girl seated in front of him. “So, Ariel, I’m exceedingly pleased to see you. I was so very disappointed when you disappeared last year without any expl anation. May I ask why you chose to do so?”
    Her face floods with red but she appears to arrest it—mind over matter—and thrusts her chin up, as if defying her own nature. “I think you know why, Ian. Let’s not bother with playing games.”
    His head snaps back in