Free Hard As Ice (Fortis Series 1) by Raven Scott

brush out of her purse.
    “What?”
    “Do you have a hot date? You hardly ever wear your hair out.”
    “Oh. Nothing serious, just dinner,” replied Nia cautiously.
    “Well, you look great. You always look good, but I really like your hair like that.”
    Nia accepted the compliment by picking some lint from the paddle brush.
    “Okay, I’m off. Enjoy your dinner!” announced Tara, then she was gone, leaving a cloud of the latest Chanel perfume behind.
    Nia looked back at herself in the mirror, reflecting on Tara’s comments. It was true, her hair was usually pulled back into a tight bun or ponytail during the week. Her makeup was bold and dramatic, creating the desired effect of a woman in charge. Capable, assertive, fierce, and in control. But others had told her the same thing Tara had, men in particular. With her shoulder-length hair out, either straight or loosely curled, she looked softer, younger, and more feminine. Weak.
    Nia let out a deep breath, and put down the brush. There was no denying it now. She had gotten dressed today hoping to see Evan again, wanting to look good for him. It was an uncomfortable realization that made her heart race with uncertainty. Why was she acting like such a stupid, naïve . . . girl? Wanting the sexy, rich guy to think she was pretty? It was juvenile, and not at all who she was anymore.
    She ran her fingers through her hair, now falling in soft waves. Without any hair elastics or products, it was too late to put it up anyway. But, it was time to put a stop to whatever fantasies were brewing in her subconscious. She was not soft or sweet. Not anymore. So if that was what Evan DaCosta was looking for in a woman, he would be sorely disappointed.
    Feeling fortified, Nia left the bathroom and went downstairs, pulling on her trench coat on the way. As she reached the landing, she could hear the high-pitched trill of Emma giggling. Nia looked toward the sound and found the tall, broad form of Evan DaCosta, leaning casually against one of the display cases near the front entrance. Hearing her footsteps, he and the receptionist both turned to face her. He said something else to Emma that Nia couldn’t hear. The young girl blushed, and Nia felt the pinch of annoyance in her chest.
    “There she is,” he said louder, as he walked forward to meet Nia.
    “I’m sorry, I thought you were sending a car?” she questioned.
    He smiled, that slow, predatory grin she was becoming used to.
    “My meetings ended a little early. And this was too important an assignment to delegate,” he replied, stopping in front of her.
    She felt the heat of his gaze as he looked her over in a long, deliberate glance. The beat of her heart increased measurably. But Nia forced herself to remain poised, seemingly unfazed by his perusal. When his eyes finally met hers again, she raised a brow.
    “You approve?” she asked, sarcastically.
    The grin widened, revealing beautifully white teeth, and the hint of dimples.
    “I do.” He stepped closer so their bodies brushed, bent his head, and pressed a soft, light kiss on the spot right beside her lips. “Thank you for joining me for dinner.”
    His nearness was messing with her composure, but Nia managed to produce a small smile in response.
    “All set?” he asked, pressing a warm hand to the base of her spine.
    She nodded.
    “Good evening, Emma,” Evan stated, his gaze still fixed on Nia.
    “Bye, Mr. DaCosta, bye, Nia,” the girl replied in her usual bright, bubbly voice.
    “’Night, Emma,” Nia replied politely.
    His car was parked on the street a half-block away. They were silent for the walk. He opened the passenger door for her before sliding behind the wheel. The powerful engine roared with a low, deep rumble, then they were on their way.
    “How was your day?” Evan asked a few moments later.
    It was such a mundane question that it caught Nia by surprise. She knew the appropriate response should be to say “fine” with a smile, then ask him the