by Kahlen Aymes
“No, Anja!” The little girl protested. “Anja!” She started to wail, big tears rolling down her cheeks as she reached out for Angel.
“With the flowers, ma’am. Have a nice afternoon.”
“You, also.” Angel closed the door and walked back into the kitchen where Becca had set the bouquet on her marble-topped, kitchen island. Her hands trembled as she pulled the white card free. Her name was handwritten on the envelope, but that would be from the florist, no doubt. Angel glanced up at Becca, who looked amused. Jillian still struggled in her mother’s arms.
“Anja! Anja!” she cried.
“Just a minute, sweets. Angel will take you soon,” she soothed the little girl and then opened the card.
These reminded me of you… So unique and distinctive, beautiful on the outside, but deeper shades, even more brilliant, inside. I can’t wait to discover more about you. Looking forward to tonight.
~Alex
Angel was speechless as her hand reached out to touch a delicate bloom. Chocolate Canna lilies were very expensive—deep purple in the center fading to deep lavender around the edges. He doesn’t do anything half-assed, that’s for sure.
She picked up the box then pulled the purple ribbon and ripped the paper away. Inside was the newest version of iPhone. A fucking iPhone?
Angel laughed even as the phone rang and Alex’s name appeared on the screen. She held it up and showed it to Becca.
“The man’s a genius and he’s gorge. Now if his peen measures up, I’ll have to kill myself.”
“Quiet, Becca,” Angel said shortly, rolling her eyes, and answered the phone. “Thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely.”
“It’s my pleasure. I hope you don’t think the phone is too over the top, but I didn’t have your number, and I wanted to hear your voice.” Amusement laced every one of his words. Angel could picture the smug expression on his handsome face. “Plus… I couldn’t have you helpless if you needed to get in touch with me.”
Angel laughed. “Alex, one thing I never am is helpless. Don’t you know that yet?”
Alex chuckled on the other end of the line, his voice low and velvety. Angel’s heart hammered in her chest when he ignored her comment. “I’ve planned a very special evening, so don’t go getting cold feet.”
“I assure you, there is nothing cold about me.” She smiled secretly as she thought of her dress, her preparations for the evening, and his audible intake of breath. Her words were meant to seduce and tease. “So a cocktail dress, then?”
“Mmmm… please. I can’t wait to see you. Eight o’clock, remember?”
“Yes.” Angel wasn’t sure what else to say. Her pulse was hammering and her palms were sweating. The man affected her like no one ever had.
“We’re going to have a nice time, Angel. I’ll be good.”
“Is that a promise?” she teased softly. Alex was laughing when she turned off the phone before giving him a chance to answer.
Becca was leaning up against the counter with a now-sleeping child curled into her shoulder and neck.
“What did he say?”
“That he’ll be good.” Angel’s eyes flashed with laughter.
“Wow, that bastard is smooth, I’ll give him that. You better get your big girl panties on.”
“Or off, you mean,” Angel said with a confidence she didn’t feel. Alex Avery wasn’t someone to tangle with unless you expected to get burned. But in what way? That was the delicious question that Angel needed answered. “Not sure if he’s playing hardball or softball.”
Becca rolled her eyes. “One thing is certain, there is definitely going to be some kind of balling going down tonight.”
The room blurred before Angel’s eyes as she lost herself in her thoughts. Yes, she had to bring out the big guns so that she remained in control of the situation. The more prepared she made herself, the more likely she would come out the victor in this game of cat and mouse. But how would she get the taste she wanted so badly and come out unscathed? How, indeed?
* * *
Everything had to be perfect. Alex shook his head in self-admonishment. He kept hammering himself. This was a fucking date, nothing more. No different than any other he’d been on in his life. Hundreds of dates and he’d never been nervous. Until now.
As Alex rode the short distance to Angel’s apartment in the company limousine, he smoothed down the front of his silk shirt. He’d dressed with more care than usual. His deep brown Armani suit was tailored to perfection, downplayed with no tie, but the expensive cream shirt gave his skin a golden glow where the top two buttons were left open. His hair was its usually messy perfection, his jaw clean-shaven. If he were honest, he had serious intentions of getting more than close to Angeline tonight. He remembered how she smelled and how soft her skin was and suddenly found himself pulling at the crotch of his pants as his cock swelled and his heart raced in anticipation. He’d never been so turned on by the mere thought of someone before. It was an uncomfortable problem to have.
“Fuck, Avery. Get some control.”
“Did you say something, Sir?” the driver asked and glanced in the rearview mirror.
“Nothing, Martin. Thank you.”
The sun was still up but low on the horizon. Alex glanced out the window, watching it flash between the buildings as it set. He pulled in a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how the evening would end, wasn’t even sure how he wanted it to end.
He’d argued with himself for the past 24 hours since he’d come face-to-face with her again. He had to be honest with himself and with her. Angeline Hemming was not a woman who settled for ambiguity or unanswered questions. And there was no question, when it came to his desire for her—he wanted her… badly.
The question was, could he control the want long enough to get to know her? Alex was certain fucking her would only make him want more. To get what he truly wanted, he’d have to treat her with kid gloves. Angel stirred something deep within him that, for the first time, didn’t originate in his groin, but it ended there.
Martin pulled up in front of Angel’s apartment building and came around to open the door for his boss. The formality of it grated on Alex’s nerves, but he forced himself to remain in the car until Martin completed the task. Alex Avery was nervous. He was actually nervous. It was a rare occurrence, only happening when he had a particularly precarious and huge business deal on the table; when the stakes were particularly high. For some reason, he felt the same way now.
Pulling on the cuffs of his sleeves under his jacket, he ran a hand through his thick mane on his way through the doors, the light bit of hair gel he’d used resisting his fingers.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself under his breath. The doorman stepped aside and pulled the door open so Alex could enter. There was a concierge and security in the lobby. He took in the marble floors and brass handles on the doors, the dark wood and eclectic furnishings. All very elegant.
Alex walked to the desk to speak to the concierge. “Alex Avery. I’m here for Angeline Hemming.” His breath hitched as he waited to hear the man tell him to go straight to hell. It certainly was something she would do. Just to show him who was boss.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Avery. Dr. Hemming is expecting you. Apartment 315. I’ll let her know you’re on your way up.”
Alex’s breathing eased as the elevator made the short trip to the top floor. When the doors opened, he quickly found the cherry wood door with the brass numbers and rang the bell. There was soft music coming from the other side, and he tented his fingers as he waited.
When it opened, his surprised eyes fell on Becca. She leaned against the door in ratty jeans and a pink T-shirt from the fitness club where she worked, her eyes raking him up and down in apparent appraisal.
Alex smirked at her. “Hello, Becca. Nice to see you again. I’m here for Angeline.”
“Hi, Alex. Come in.” Becca moved out of his way so he could enter the apartment. The lights were low, but Alex’s eyes drank in the details,
longing to know Angel better. The space had clean, elegant lines; classic furniture, more gleaming cherry wood on the floors, and dark marble in the kitchen greeted him. The artwork was tasteful but sparse; a large fireplace took up most of one wall in the living room, topped off with a large flat screen mounted over it. The vase of lilies he’d sent sat on the coffee table in the living room.
Becca followed him in. “Can I get you a drink? Angel usually keeps a nice assortment.”
Alex glanced at his watch. Five minutes past eight.
“Actually, I have reservations at TRU for 8:30.” He glanced around and Becca used the opportunity to check him out. Her eyebrows rose and her lips pursed. TRU was a classy French restaurant; extremely exclusive and pricey.
Just as he said it, the door down the hall opened and high-heeled shoes sounded on the floor. He turned toward the sound and froze in place, his breath catching in his chest.
Angel looked amazing. Her legs went on for miles in strappy platform heels accented by a bow around the ankles and a short, little black dress. It was simple and elegant, with a deep halter neckline leaving the inside swells of her breasts bare, but just barely; her shoulders and arms completely so. Hair piled up, accentuating the long line of her neck, with soft tendrils falling around her face; her only adornments were diamond and onyx drop earrings and a thick matching bracelet. Her make-up was subtle and her soft, pink lips glistened softly.
She stopped 10 feet in front of him, soft, alluring… so tempting. Her perfume softly surrounded him as he drew breath into his suddenly tight chest. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, his heart racing. Add to it that, for once, she wasn’t busting his chops, and she was absolutely irresistible. His hand came to rest on his chest as he struggled for what to say, torn between looking at her, listening to her voice, getting into her head, or getting into her pretty little panties.
Angel was equally breathless. She’d steeled herself for this moment, but she was still left gasping. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, his suit impeccable and perfectly tailored to his lean, but solid form.
“You’re… luminous, just… radiant, Angeline. I… have no words,” he said softly, his green eyes alight with desire.
Angel blushed. “Those are pretty good ones. You look very handsome, too. I didn’t know what your plans were so… I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
“You’re perfect. Shall we go?” He smiled softly. “The car is waiting.”
“I just need my bag.” She walked into the kitchen where Becca was watching silently and picked up her clutch from the counter. When she did, she passed Alex and he was presented with the rear view of her dress. It hung loosely on her small body and the back was completely bare down below the waist. He could just see the beginning of the little dimples at the top of her ass.
“Holy hell,” he said in surprise. Angel smiled softly, her eyes meeting Becca’s, who laughed out loud.
When Angel turned and came back to him, she smirked and glanced up into his eyes. “You didn’t expect me to play fair, did you?”
“You’re just…’ he began.
“Half-naked?” she teased, her eyes challenging him. “Yeah, I know.”
Alex smiled and offered his arm. She took it and soon the two of them were in the elevator. “What do you think you’re doing to me? I promised to be good, but you make it impossible.” He leaned down closer to her ear. Her perfume was intoxicating, and he longed to press his lips to the soft throb of her pulse in her neck. “What do you have on under that dress?” he asked softly, his warm breath dancing on the top of her shoulder.
A slow smile spread out on her face as heat spread out in the pit of her stomach. This wasn’t going to be easy. “That’s for me to know,” Angel stated simply.
“Mmm, and for me to find out.” His voice felt like a warm caress on her skin. “I love a challenge.”
Angel laughed nervously, the electricity of his gaze and the implication of his words skittering across her skin. It could be that she wouldn’t be able to resist the undeniable sex appeal of this man. Fuck, the pull was strong.
“You can dream.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
“A fact which has been proven in the past few months,” Alex admitted, both of them clearly enjoying themselves. A shiver ran down her spine at his words, skittering outward over the surface of her skin. The fact that he hadn’t forgotten their first almost-meeting was not lost on her.
Martin was waiting with the car door open, and Alex’s hand fell to the back of Angel’s bare waist as he helped her inside. This was the first time their skin touched and it rocked them both.
Alex’s eyes connected with Angel’s when he slid in beside her. She held his gaze. “What?” she asked.
He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing. I’m glad you agreed to join me this evening. You look absolutely stunning.” His eyes roamed the bare skin of her shoulders, over her face, and down her cleavage to her crossed legs. “Thank you, for that.”
Unexpected pleasure surged through her. Surely such words meant more from this man than from any other. She expected to feel mad attraction and for Alex to launch a full frontal assault, prepared to resist at all costs, but instead, he was seducing her with nothing more than words and an innocent touch. She was in big trouble and she knew it, yet he excited her more than she’d ever been. Either Alex was a much-practiced predator or the mutual attraction was dangerous and tangible… with a life of its own.
Alex told himself that he’d be content to just look at her all evening, talk with her, and learn about her past through conversation and questions. He loved how her eyes lit up with amusement when he teased her and how much it thrilled him when she teased him in return. And, of course, his body was on fire.
“Is Becca your bodyguard tonight, Angel? Is that why she was at your apartment?”
“Will my body need guarding?” she quipped with a smirk. She looked at her lap, playing with the clasp on her purse.
“My intentions were the best of the best, but that dress… damned if I know now.”
The sexual tension vibrated in the air between them, and they were both bristling in the plush leather seats of the limousine. It was all Alex could do not to reach out and run his hand down the smooth skin of her arm. Angel felt his glances like a physical caress.
When Martin pulled up in front of the restaurant and walked around to open the door, it was Alex that offered his hand to Angel as she exited the car. She trembled slightly when his warm fingers closed around hers, and as she stepped from the car, he tucked it into the crook of his arm again.
Angel smiled coyly. The perfect gentleman. No one would know that he was an emotionless cad, she scoffed mentally. She knew of this restaurant but had never been. It was extremely upper class, and it was almost impossible to get a reservation. Kenneth tried several times but had never gotten the job done.
“I hope you like French cuisine, Angeline. If not, we can go somewhere else of your choosing,” Alex murmured softly as they walked through the large mahogany doors, manned on both sides by attendants.
“This is wonderful. Thank you, Alex.”
The black-haired hostess lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw Alex; her eyes scanned the woman beside him, darting over Angel from head to toe—the once-over not escaping Angel’s educated gaze. She smiled sweetly at the other woman, something like pride surging through her because she was the one on Alex’s arm. Angel shook herself mentally. Snap out of it, Hemming.
“Mr. Avery! When I saw your name on the reservations list, I made sure to reserve a table by the window. It’s such a clear night and the view is fabulous!” the hostess gushed.
“Thank you, Karen. May I introduce, Dr. Angeline Hemming.”
“So nice to meet you,” Angel said with a polite smile.
“Good Evening, Dr. Hemming. Right this way, please,” she said pleasantly.
She led them to a small table at the west edge of the dining r
oom. The sunset through the windows was breathtaking, and Angel took it in along with the simple, open floor plan: white linen, crystal, flickering candles, mahogany floors, and a huge mixed floral arrangement on a table in the center. There were camellias floating in crystal bowls on each of the tables, surrounded by six votives. The whole effect was quite exquisite.
“This is a beautiful restaurant,” Angel said as Alex pulled out her chair, the scent of his cologne was a heady mix of musk and freshness. She couldn’t help but inhale deeply and was intoxicated. Angel shuddered slightly, hoping Alex would miss it.
“Angeline, are you cold?” His voice was concerned. “Would you like my jacket?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“I suppose it’s the whole half-naked thing you’ve got going on, hmm?” His face split into a crooked grin, and Angel’s heart flopped around in her chest.
“Yes. How’s that working out for you?”
Alex was seated and he leaned back in his chair, his head cocked ever so slightly as his eyes raked over her again. “So far, so good.”
She flashed him a smile. Damn if she could help herself. The waiter was there to take the elegantly folded napkin, unfurl it, and lay it across Angel’s lap.
“Good evening, Mr. Avery, Dr. Hemming. I am Dustin and I’ll be your server this evening,” said the young blond man in a white shirt, tuxedo vest, and bow tie. “Davis, our sommelier, will be with you shortly for your drink order, and I’ll return in a few minutes.” He opened a leather-bound menu and handed it to Angel and then one to Alex.
“I guess you come here a lot,” Angel stated. “Since the staff knows you.”
“Some. It’s an excellent restaurant. We use it for business lunches at times, too.”
“Mmm…” Angel’s mind was racing, wondering if he brought Whitney here and if that was the cause of the hostess’s curiosity. She wanted to ask, but decided not to speak about Whitney unless Alex brought her up.
Alex appeared calmer than she felt. “I want to apologize again for Darian’s misguided matchmaking ploy. It wasn’t fair to you. Angel, I didn’t know what he was up to, so I hope you’ll forgive me.”