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Dante's Fire(3)

By:Jennifer Probst


But she shouldn't, and for a variety reasons. She'd spent a lifetime  getting to this place in time. She had goals and she wasn't about to get  distracted by a kind and sexy mailman who, while he was generous,  sweet, and wickedly smart, seemed to have no aspirations to better his  position in life. She wasn't really a snob, but any long lasting  relationship needed to be with someone who walked the same path and  understood how seriously she took her career.

Selina dragged in a breath, picking up the contract on her desk. Focus.  She was dealing with one of the biggest deals of her career and  shouldn't let a man shake her up. Selina read the first few paragraphs,  but the words began to blur. Instead, she remembered the intensity of  Daniel Stark's eyes. Inky black with smoldering depths and ancient  secrets. Pain. He rarely let her glimpse the emotion; content to share  only distant warmth he kept in check. But sometimes during one of their  chats, he let the real stuff escape.         

     



 

God, she remembered the first day he strolled into her office. After  exchanging a few polite words, she figured he'd be a bit of eye candy  and they'd never move beyond a polite greeting. Instead, their  relationship grew, until she looked forward to his appearance, and their  casual chats. Her gut screamed there was something so much deeper  hidden within his piercing eyes. Daniel didn't talk like a mail carrier  without any natural ambition. Yet, two years had passed and he still  held the same routine, not seeming to want to do anything else with his  life.

And then there was that scar.

A chill skittered down her spine. She'd never asked what had happened to  him, and he'd never offered. Most people averted their gaze pointedly -  the jagged, deadly gash marked so deeply into his olive skin you could  almost imagine the slice of the blade. Still, she believed it only added  to his good looks. With his long dark hair that brushed his shoulders,  sensual dark eyes and carved mouth, he was a rebel dream. His wardrobe  consisted of various rock-n-roll t-shirts, worn jeans and sneakers. This  made for a visual delight in such a conservative, stuffy office.  Personally, she loved hearing about his world of heavy metal bands,  ice-cold beer and letting the moment flow. It was such a balance from  the life she'd chosen for herself. Probably another reason she enjoyed  his company so much.

That and the fact he was so damned delicious to look at.

She adjusted her chair and tried to shake off the inner taunt.  Ridiculous. She had no idea why the occasional burst of lightning caught  her breath in his presence, or the tingly knowledge that warned her to  look harder. She had no time, and no inkling to get involved with  anyone. Especially a man from the mailroom with no clear future. Selina  had made a decision years ago to make sacrifices for her dream of a  successful career, and she was very near the finish line.

Once she had Forrester on board.

She tapped one peach-colored nail against the edge of her chair in a  steady rhythm. Working with millionaires was a rough job, especially  chauvinistic male millionaires. Since William Forrester had conquered  Vegas in securing major land deals and competing with the best casinos  for profit, his name rose to the Fortune list. Now the city of New York  lay at his feet, and Selina sat on the deal of a lifetime.

As part of the lead team in acquisitions for Inferno Enterprises, she  was the one who needed to reel the big mackerel in, and right now, he  squiggled on the line dangerously. With the best property at her  fingertips, she'd concentrated on the pickings of a land lot to rival  Trump's wet dreams. They'd gotten a line on Forrester immediately, but  the man liked to play the game hard, so he already had three other  companies begging to do his bidding. Selina personally detested the man,  with his leering eyes and crude humor, but she smiled and bit her lip.  Hard. Until it bled.

She was lucky, and she knew it. A life spent in foster care never boded  well for future successful, satisfied individuals. Selina couldn't help  the backbone of pride and ambition built within her that helped her make  the most out of every situation. She hadn't been abused by her foster  parents, but merely tolerated. She may not have experienced fierce love,  but the temporary security helped her grow strong. She learned to read  people, find their wants and needs, and focus on her drive to escape a  lackluster life and create something extraordinary. Instead of lapsing  into a life of drugs, sex, or alcohol, she used education to further  herself. Got a scholarship. Graduated college. And became an expert in  her field by twenty-five-years-old.

She always knew she wanted to work in property. When she was little,  she'd been fascinated by the mansions shown on television, and the huge,  towering buildings in Manhattan. She'd spin fantasies of living in that  type of world, and decided early on she'd be the one to match people  with their dream houses. After obtaining her real estate license, she  rose easily to the top of the small local real estate office, and dove  right into business real estate, where the payoffs were bigger and the  risks higher.

She loved the adrenalin rush, and piecing the puzzles together to make a  fit. Inferno Enterprises had always been the goal. The up and coming  company boasted a soaring profit margin, opportunity for growth, and a  solid portfolio for stability. They hired her and she'd spent the next  few years proving her worth.

She may not have had anyone waiting in the wings to praise her, but  knowing she baked the damn cake on her own without help made eating it  all by herself that much sweeter.

Selina knew she always related better to men than women did. Female  friendship puzzled her, with their catty ways, and their consistent talk  about babies, marriage, or houses. She adored her apartment, her  freedom, and her money. Yes, she was lonely at times, but never enough  to want to sacrifice herself for an angst-ridden relationship, or a  casual one night stand that may make her feel worse in the morning.         

     



 

She did things on her terms and enjoyed every moment.

Her earpiece pinged. She clicked the button. "Hello?"

"Rogers! Down at the bar at six. Last one here buys first round."

She chuckled at the sound of her colleague Tom's voice. "Let me guess. Everyone's down at McAleers already?"

"You got it."

"Have a beer on me. I have hours of work ahead."

His groan rumbled in her ear. "You gonna make everyone feel like shit  for leaving at five on a Friday? How's that for fucking morale?"

"You should feel like shit. But if you get your ass in here by six am tomorrow and help me out, I'll forgive you."

She held back a laugh as her teammate cursed with a few colorful verses.  "Fine. If I get everyone to agree, will you get your ass here in an  hour?"

She calculated how much she could get done, what she'd accomplish with  her team in the early hours of the morning, and took a leap. "Give me  two. And you better be still standing when I get there."

"No promises, but we'll take it. You're gonna be behind on beers though, so you may need to do shots."

Ugh. She hated shots, but she knew the drill well. "Fine, but if I'm  still conscious, you're buying dinner. And you better reach deep, Tommy,  because I hold out for steak - no burger."

He gave an answering laugh. "Not worried. Gary is always the pussy. He'll get stuck with the bill."

"You're right. See you later."

She clicked off, shook her head, and concentrated on the contract. No  more moony dreaming over Daniel Stark. Yes, he was sexy in a rebel type  way, but he'd never fit into her life. Since she was never comfortable  with casual sex, there was no ending imaginable except a disastrous one.  Lord knows she'd come too far to take a wrong path now.

Selina got back to work.





Chapter Two



FRIDAY nights at the Irish pub McAleers became a tradition with the team  at Inferno. The normal routine consisted of long hours, scrambling, and  wining and dining. Fridays were set aside for some serious drinking,  gossiping, bitching, and a mean game of darts. It was usually the  highlight of Selina's week.

She'd already changed into her jeans and casual sweater, and after  pounding back two Jameson's to her team's delight, she now nursed a  wimpy Coors Lite, watching Tom and Gary wage war on the dartboard. The  music blared, and the after work crowd clustered in battered tables,  booths and around the bar. She relaxed with her feet up on the opposite  chair and let the familiar surroundings settle around her.

When she first got on the all-male acquisitions team at Inferno, she  assumed it would be an uphill battle for survival. Pleasantly surprised,  the group of three men gave her a fair opportunity to carve out her own  niche in the pack, or crash and burn. So, Selina had grit her teeth and  made sure she dazzled them. She worked harder, stayed later, and closed  the first deal on her own. After that, respect came with the  opportunity and she never looked back.