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1
SCARLETT
PRESENT DAY
I sat on the terrace, the summer sun warm on my skin. I did paperwork on my laptop, the large fountain creating a beautiful backdrop of cascading water. It was a quiet day, a Tuesday, the sound of cars on the street muffled by the high walls and the fountain.
Someone dropped into the chair across from me, so I peeked over the top of my laptop, expecting to see my father or one of the men.
But it was Axel.
As with any time I was in his presence, there was painful heat between us. He always looked at me like I was his, even though he probably had a different woman in his bed every night. I could tell he had something to say, so I shut the laptop. “I’m almost done with the numbers. I’ll submit everything to my father, and then he’ll process the payment.”
It was as if he didn’t hear a word I said. “I like that dress.”
It was black and strapless, a gold necklace around my throat. I also wore a hat to keep the sun out of my face. “Did you hear what I said?”
“That boyfriend still around?”
“Do you actually want me or just want what you can’t have?”
He wore a short-sleeved black shirt, his sexy arms stressing the cotton. His jeans were black too, low on his hips, with black boots on his feet. His dirty-blond hair looked lighter in the summer sun. A pair of sunglasses blocked his eyes from view, so all I could see was the handsome grin that stretched over his lips. “I definitely want you, baby.”
I opened the laptop again and went back to work, waiting for him to go away.
He remained in the chair, his stare hard on my face.
“Yes?” I asked without looking up.
“You’d be a great card player with a poker face like that.”
I looked up again.
“But you can’t fool me.”
My eyes lifted. A staredown ensued.
He stood up and pulled his chair closer to me, getting right in my space, in complete disregard for all the people who could see us if they looked in the courtyard—including my father. When Axel sat down, his hand pushed the laptop shut. Now he was directly in front of me, and like I really did belong to him, his hand moved to my thigh.
The goose bumps were immediate. They spread across my skin from my legs to my arms.
His hard eyes were locked on mine. “You feel that?” His hand felt warm against my thigh, his callused fingertips slightly abrasive against my soft flesh. “I know I do.”
I maintained a hard stare, but erotic images flashed across my mind, his hand sliding between my legs so his fingers could hook into my panties. Slowly, he pulled them down, all the way to my ankles, and then he stuffed them into his pocket for later. My mind came back to the present, still wearing a hard poker face.
“Take the upgrade, baby.”
“I told you I don’t mix business with pleasure.” I finally grasped my control and pushed his hand away.
He didn’t reach for me again. One arm was propped on the round table, his leg directly next to mine. “Why?”
“Because it’ll bite you in the ass.”
“You think your father doesn’t fuck his assistant?”
“I prefer not to discuss my father’s sex life.”
He smirked. “Then let’s discuss our sex life.”
