Chapter Seven
Elisabet
When the knock comes, my heart leaps into my throat. This isn’t a date, I remind myself, but my body doesn’t agree. I take a deep breath before opening the door. Once it swings wide, my gaze drinks in the man before me. Landon Stone is the epitome of sex. He’s raw, primal, and he’s standing on my doorstep.
“Ms. Rossi,” he says in that rich baritone that seems to caress my skin as much as it savors my name. “You look lovely.” Those eyes, the color a blend of blues and greens, trail over me. Slow and methodical. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Fire blazes in them, and I know my choice of dress was a good one.
The black and silver of the knee-length sleeveless dress hugs my curves. I’m by no means skinny. I’ve always been self-conscious about my appearance, but the way Landon’s gaze pierces me, I don’t just feel beautiful, I feel like a rare gem. Exquisite and striking.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Stone.” I smile, offering him an olive branch. He didn’t need to take me to dinner. This could’ve been done in his office, but I decide right then and there I’ll enjoy tonight.
His suit jacket is black, with a silver tie against the charcoal shirt. His slacks match the jacket, and they hug his muscular thighs like they’ve been custom made just for him. When my eyes reach his face, I notice the satisfied smirk on his lips. Caught out staring at the man who I’m meant to be doing business with.
“Since you’re ogling is complete, shall we go?” He gestures with his head. The dark tousled hair on his head makes my fingers tingle. I want to run my hands through the dark curls.
“I don’t ogle, Mr. Stone,” I retort, stepping out of my hotel suite and into the hallway. Once I’ve ensured the door is locked, we head out toward the staircase, which will lead us down to the exit. His body is close to mine. So close, in fact, I can smell his spicy cologne wafting toward me. It’s a scent I’d love to bathe in, to smell on my clothes after he’s pinned me against the wall.
Shaking my head, I allow him to open the door for me. Once the fresh air hits me, I find my body cooling, only until his fingers find the small of my back. He guides me with the slightest of touches toward his car.
“Tonight, I trust you’ll enjoy the dinner for what it is,” he murmurs in my ear. His lips feathering along my hair, causing goosebumps to rise all over my body.
“And what is that, Mr. Stone?” I ask, fearing his answer, but also needing it. Hungry to be wanted by a man again, I turn to him, waiting for more.
“Time to get to know each other,” he says simply, but there’s desire dancing in his eyes, and I know this is so much more than a damn business dinner.
“Why is it that you need to get to know me? All I’m doing is buying property from you. After that, there’ll be nothing more between us.”
“Oh, I beg to differ, Ms. Rossi,” he says, casting a quick glance my way. “Or can I call you, Elisabet?” He coos my name in his thick English accent, which only accentuates his full lips as he pronounces it. The way he says it sends a warm shiver over me.
“You’re welcome to call me by my first name, but since this is a business dinner . . .” I respond, allowing the words to trail to nothing. His eyes shimmer in the dimly lit car. Amusement. Mischief. And desire.
“Since this is a get-to-know-you dinner . . .” he counters, allowing his explanation to fall between us. It hangs heavy with innuendo, and I find myself wanting to play along. I want to flirt with him. I must give him that. He’s good.
I shrug, glancing at him swiftly. “Only if I can call you Landon,” I quip playfully. His easy nature has calmed my nerves, and I relax back into the seat.
“Darling, you can call me anything you like,” he smirks. “As long as you enjoy your evening, and I’ll ensure you have that building in your possession within the week.”
“What do you get out of it? I mean, besides the money,” I question. His mouth curls into a sinful grin as he pulls into a parking lot. Once he kills the engine, he turns to me fully.
“I get you.” It’s a simple statement. Three words. But they do something to me. They make my stomach flutter with excitement and my nipples harden with desire. The need to feel his lips on my skin heats my blood, and my panties are dampening by the minute.
“That’s only if I give in. And I’m not easily swayed, Landon Stone.” My retort earns me a chuckle. His eyes dance with mischief.
“I can be very persuasive.” He shrugs nonchalantly.
He exits the car easily, rounding the hood, opens my door, and offers his hand. As soon as I slip mine in his, a current of electricity shoots through me, causing me to gasp. Our eyes meet in a moment of knowing. This is obvious. There is something between us that seems to magnetize me to him.
Everything about him is perfect. I know that nobody can be, but with Landon, I may just believe the unbelievable. His suave walk, the way he moves, how his fingertips trail down my spine, all those minor things seem to gather, making him irresistible.
“Do you know you do that?” I ask as we head into the restaurant.
“Not at all,” he responds easily, confidently, and cockily. He nods at the maître d’ as we step inside, and immediately the man is moving through the busy restaurant, leading us to a quiet booth in the back corner.
“The waiter will be with you in a moment.” It’s not long we have to sit in silence before a pretty blonde waitress sidles up to the table to take our orders. Her blush when Landon looks at her is clear. He’s a heartbreaker. When we’re alone again, his gaze falls to me.
“Why do you want this building so much?” he asks, genuinely curious.
“It’s a new start. Something I need.” His gaze narrows, as if he can pull the truth from me, but I know he can’t. There’s no way I’m divulging any more information than is needed. When he nods, he sits back and watches the people passing by, the staff going about their business.
“You know, Elisabet, life affords us many second chances. I’ve had mine. It’s what you do with it that counts. I trust, once you’ve gotten the property, you’ll ensure that it is looked after.” He says all this without looking at me.
“Of course,” I acknowledge him. The blonde brings our wine and dinner in that moment, and our conversation is lost for a time. Once our glasses are filled, Landon lifts his, gesturing for me to follow suit.
Our eyes meet and hold before he says, “To us.” Two words that seem to echo in my mind, scattering themselves around in my chest, and I nod. We clink our glasses, but I don’t respond to his toast. I can’t. There can’t be an us. As much as Landon Stone makes me want that, as much as I enjoy his company, the word us is off the table.