Luca

Ariel sits in the chair facing the dance floor. Her arms are crossed, and it looks more like she’s protecting herself. It’s puzzling. She’s a mystery I’m determined to unravel.

I had Tony check her background, which checks out until he digs deeper. Ariel Hancock doesn’t exist. I want to ask Tommy, but I don’t think he knows anything about this lovely creature sitting in my office.

When Tony first informed me of her curious background, I suspected Ariel was a plant, someone sent to see if I was dealing drugs, like my family before me. So I headed to the bar where she works, intending to get answers.

Watching her stare at the dance floor, I wonder who she is, why she is using a false name. What’s she hiding from?

I open the door and tell Tony, who stands right outside, to bring two coffees. “Yes, boss.”

As I look back at Ariel, I let out a long deep breath and try to decide how to proceed. The more I look at her, the more I see a scared animal about to bolt. I need to tread lightly, be careful.

Standing behind her chair, I sweep her hair back and start to massage her shoulders. They’re tight, and as I knead the muscles with my hands, I feel her shiver.

“Are you cold?”

It takes her a minute, but she finally says, “No. I’m fine, thanks.”

“I’m sorry if I moved too fast.” Words I never thought I’d hear myself say. My family has money, I have money, money that I inherited, fortunes that I’ve built on my own, and women have always come easy. None of these things seem to impress Ariel. She will not be easily swayed.

She never looks at me, just stares at the dance floor, watching. “Why do you even like me?” she says. “I’m nothing like them.”

As I watch the dancers, I know what she’s talking about. Who she’s talking about. I tread carefully as I answer honestly. “You’re different.” Her shoulders tighten under my hands and I know she’s offended, so I press on. “Uniquely different.”

She scoffs. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Fine. You’re raw beauty. Beautiful even in your work clothes with no makeup.” I can’t tell if I’m convincing her, so I keep going. “Look at the women down there. Yes, they are beautiful, but they hide under plastic surgery and fancy clothes. You do neither. And still you hold your shoulders back and act like you don’t give a damn.”

“You have fancy clothes.”

I chuckle. “I do. It’s what’s expected of me.” My family always made me dress in fine clothes, if for nothing else than appearances only. Now, I’m uncomfortable in anything else.

She glances at me over her shoulder. “Do you always do what’s expected?”

“I do what I want.”

A light knock on the door, and Tony walks in carrying two coffees. “Thank you,” I say and take them from him.

He nods and then heads back out. I hand Ariel a cup and say, “Join me on the sofa.”

She accepts the coffee. “Will you keep your hands to yourself?” She raises one eyebrow, waiting.

My lips twitch. “I’ll try.”

“Try hard,” she says with a smile that replaces her anger.

Sipping my coffee, I revel in the realization that I’m content just sitting beside her. Even with my dick straining against my pants, I know I have to take things slow. I watch as she barely drinks the coffee.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s okay, but I’m not really a coffee drinker.”

“Tell me about yourself.”

“Well, I’m five-foot-four, blonde hair, blue eyes, and I believe one day I can solve world hunger.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” If she wants to play this game, very well.

She scrunches her nose. “Not sure yet. I’ll get back to you on that one.”

A smile teases my lips before I take another sip of coffee, studying her. “Where are you from?”

In a very thick southern accent, she says, “From down south, darling.”

“What part?”

“Just a little town I’m sure you’ve never heard of.”

“Try me.”

“Have you always lived here?” She diverts. Now I know she’s hiding something.

“Born and raised.”

“Hmm . . . have you ever lived anywhere else?”

I smile and take another sip of coffee. I’d rather have bourbon on the rocks, or scotch, but I’m still feeling her out.

“Have you?”

She tilts her head, a smile teasing her lips. “Just here.” She crosses her legs, her foot swinging slightly.

“Oh, yes. You moved from the Deep South to NYC. Such a drastic change.”

“It is actually.” She looks lost in thought, her eyes staring at the wall. “I remember playing outside, planting flowers, jumping into a recently raked pile of leaves.”

“That sounds like a . . . Hallmark TV show.”

She grins. “Whatever,” she says, then takes a small sip of coffee. “What else do you do, you know, besides sit here and spy on people?” She nods toward the window.

“I own stocks in several companies, and I’m in the process of building a hotel. It’s almost finished.” Yes, I’m bragging a little. I want to impress her.

“And you made that much money owning a nightclub?” She sounds accusatory and my instincts roar to high alert. She must see the change on my face. Setting the cup down, she stands. “I need to get home.”

“And where is home, exactly?” I stand, facing her.

She averts her eyes, not answering. I know where she lives . . . now. That’s one piece of information I did find out.

“Who sent you?” she finally asks, daggers shooting from her eyes.

“I might ask you the same question.”

Ariel takes a step back as I step closer. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Why do you want to know how I make my money?”

It’s a standoff, both of us pissed. She steps forward, tilting her head up. We’re almost nose-to-nose when she spits, “’Cause I don’t want to be around drug dealers, gun dealers, pimps, or anything else shady! I’ve had my belly full of that shit and I don’t want anything to do with it!”

“Good. Neither do I!” My words come out more heated than I intended. “I inherited most of my money!”

I’m completely turned on by her standing up to me. Without thinking, I grab the back of her neck with my hand, bend her backward, and ravish her mouth with mine. At first she denies me, but soon her luscious lips part and I thrust my tongue inside, seeking hers. As they twirl around each other, darting inside before sliding back out, I wish it was my dick inside her moist channel. I press my hips against her, pulling her close, letting her feel what she does to me. How bad I want her.

Catching my breath, I place her back on her feet, but I don’t let go. I barely hear her when she whispers, “It’s late. I need to go home.”

Go home? My body’s on fire and she’s ready to end this? I think of everything disgusting, trying to get my body under control. It takes a few seconds for the lust to calm down enough to think straight.

Stepping back, I search her eyes, then nod. “I’ll take you.”

“Thank you.” She averts her eyes, spins on her heels, and heads for the door. She confusing; one minute she’s kissing me, and now she seems almost embarrassed.

The ride to her place is silent and I’m wondering what just happened. Before we reach her apartment, she blurts, “You can let me out here!”

The corner of Tenth and Second. Not happening. When I tell the driver her address, her head whips around and I can see the fear in her eyes.

“How do you know that?”

I shrug. “I did a background check.”

“Let me out! Let me out!” She wrenches the inside door handle but nothing happens. “Please, let me go.”

Tears drip down her cheeks and a look of devastation covers her face. I don’t understand, but she’s breaking my fucking heart. I’m angry at whoever has done this to her. Instilled this much fear.

When the car comes to a stop, Tony opens the limo door. I slide out and then offer my hand. Reluctantly, she takes it and I lead her to the steps of her apartment.

Ariel fiddles with the key until the door swings open, and not giving her a chance to say anything, I step inside.