Dripping Desires

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft click, sealing her into a polished metal box with the man she was supposed to hate.

Alistair Stone. Her fiancé. The deal-sealer. The man rumored to be so cold, so utterly uninterested in women, that she’d spent the last three months convinced he was either gay or a fucking robot. She’d dumped her ex for this. For a corporate merger dressed in a suit.

He stood facing the doors, his back to her. He wasn’t wearing the somber black she’d expected. His suit was a brilliant, stark white, the fabric so crisp it seemed to glow under the harsh elevator lights. It made the broad lines of his shoulders look even more imposing.

She’d only seen photos. Stiff, boardroom portraits. They hadn’t done him justice. Not even close.

The elevator began its ascent to the penthouse chapel. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage of silk and lace. Anger, hot and sour, bubbled in her throat. She wanted to scream. To claw the pearl buttons off her dress. To demand to know why he’d agreed to this farce if he’d rather fuck a spreadsheet.

Instead, her voice came out small, strangled. “Hi.”

He turned.

Fuck.

The photos were a lie. His face was all sharp, elegant angles and a jawline that looked like it could cut glass. His eyes weren’t the cold grey she remembered; they were a stormy blue, currently scanning her from the intricate lace of her bodice down to the delicate tips of her shoes. A slow, assessing look that made her skin prickle.

“Eloise.” His voice was a low rumble, smoother than she’d imagined. It wrapped around her name, held it for a second. “You look… appropriate.”

Appropriate. The word was a slap. Her anger flared, white-hot. “Appropriate for a business transaction, you mean?” she spat, her fists clenching at her sides. “That’s all this is to you, isn’t it? Just another line item. A fucking merger.”

He didn’t flinch. A faint, almost unnoticeable smile touched his lips. “I prefer to think of it as an acquisition.”

“This…marriage, whatever this is contractual, we leave like strangers after this.”

“That’s not my decision to make,” he said, smugly.

“Fuck…”

Before she could retort, the world dropped out from under her.

A deafening CRUNCH shuddered through the elevator. The lights flickered, died, plunging them into absolute, suffocating darkness.

“Right…just right,” Eloise snapped.

A violent jolt threw her forward. She yelped loudly, arms flailing, finding nothing but air.

Just when she felt she was done for, she crashed into him.

His body was solid, unyielding. His arms came around her, one wrapped across her back, the other catching her hip, stopping her fall completely.

She was pressed against the hard wall of his chest, the fine wool of his jacket rough against her cheek. The scent of him, clean soap, expensive spice, something uniquely male invaded her senses.

“Steady, I got you.” His breath was warm against her temple.

For a long moment, there was only darkness and the sound of their breathing. Hers, ragged. His, calm and even.

The heat of his warm breath unserved her. She became suddenly aware of how dangerously close they were. His hands were still on her hips. Her breasts crushed against his chest. She should noticed this…not like this. She should hate him, I mean she does. She quickly pulled away, clearing her throat awkwardly.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered. Her voice was surprisingly calm, too calm. “Just… surprised.”

Another violent jerk shook the elevator again and this time she held him tighter.

“Stay with me,” he murmured against her ears.

Had his voice always been this deep she thought, but then again this was their first time meeting.

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

“Mm.” His hand moved on her hip, a slow, circling stroke over the silk. It wasn’t an accident. The touch was deliberate, possessive. “You were saying something about the transaction.”

Jerk, she thought. “I… I was angry.”

“I could tell.” His other hand came up, his fingers brushing a stray curl from her cheek. She couldn’t see him but somehow she knew he was staring at her with those piercing blue eyes. And it made her cheeks burn.

“Do you always get so flushed when you’re angry, Eloise?”

How could he tell in the dark and the way he said her name, it felt chilling in the dark. Like a secret and something… something she couldn’t quite name.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she breathed, but she was leaning into his touch. Her body was betraying her, arching slightly, seeking more of the heat radiating from him.

“Liar.” The word was a soft growl.

His thumb traced the line of her jaw, then tipped her face up. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel his breath mingling with hers. “All that fire. All that beautiful, wasted fury. What would you do with it, I wonder, if you weren’t so busy being pissed at me?”

Her lips parted. She had no answer. Her body wouldn’t stop reacting to his, she felt her core ache slightly. Was she really getting turned on?

He didn’t wait for one.

His mouth found hers.

It wasn’t slow. It was a claiming.