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The Rake
"I see you ended things with Gianna, I got your flowers." Ariadne Page was blunt as usual, a quality Andre sought in a woman. The coy ones who chased ideality didn't get his blood pumping.
And that included his penis hardening.
"You liked them, I presume." He cut his steak as he spoke, dipped it into the sauce and brought it to his lips.
Ariadne smiled, her brown hair packed upwards in a professional chignon which made her slender face look even smaller. They had both come from work, being busy people who hadn't had the time to change into a more casual outfit.
"Every smart woman likes roses, Andre. Despite their beauty and rareness, their thorn reminds you not to get carried away by having romantic illusions. They sit in my vase, so I find them agreeable."
He reclined into the seat, the corner of his lip curved upward into a smirk. "I'm impressed, Ariadne."
He had met her at a dinner party the last week which he had attended wit
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