His pretty eyes lock right into mine.
The look on his face is one of utter shock. I continue to watch as various emotions flash across his beautiful countenance but they fly by so fast it’s impossible to grab them long enough to discern exactly what they are. He says something to his friends, disengages from the blonde, and then heads straight in my direction. My legs begin to tremble as the bartender replaces my drink with a fresh one and I smile up at him gratefully.
“Ian.” My voice comes out more breath than voice. I’m so nervous that my whole body is shaking at this point and, please God, I don’t want him to notice.
“Ariel. You look surprised to see me here.”
“I might say the same to you. And, yes. I guess I’m not surprised that you’re here but I wasn’t expecting it… and I am surprised at your… uh, demeanor.”
One brow rises and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “My demeanor? Care to elaborate?”
I shift my weight on the stool, trying for comfort in a wretchedly uncomfortable moment. For a moment I lose his attention. ADHD? “It’s just that you seem so, um, friendly? I watched two women maul you just now and you actually smiled and chatted with them.”
“And you find that unusual?”
“Well… yes, for you. Normally you’re kind of aloof. And I thought you didn’t like people getting too close or familiar with you.”
He leans in and speaks directly into my ear so neither of us has to shout or strain to hear over the music. “I apologize if I gave you that impression, Ariel. I myself tend to avoid unfair generalizations when possible.”
My face gets hot and I know I must be scarlet with embarrassment. He was always so good at verbal sparring—always, as in all twenty-five days we spent together. But still I try to dig myself out. “When I went to your office? You seemed quite cool with the women you employ… and yet you see them daily…” I trail off weakly, realizing I’m just making things worse for myself.
“True, but then I don’t put my staff in bondage and do rude things to their bodies, either. That kind of proximity tends to breed familiarity.”
My cheeks are now on fire; any moment now I’m expecting to spontaneously combust. He’s discomfiting me on purpose and enjoying my misery. I mutter under my breath, Thank God for small favors but I’m not sure he hears me so I speak up, “And these women you do?”
“Some of them,” he says mildly, glancing around. “In the past.” He focuses on me again and stares me in the eye. “Your turn now. To explain, I mean,” he adds with a wicked grin. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He’s pissed that I’m intruding on his stomping ground? “I came at the urging of a friend who’s a member here. It was just meant as a lark. If my presence makes you uncomfortable, I’ll leave. Actually, I wasn’t planning on staying beyond a few minutes anyway.”
“Please don’t leave on my account, Ariel.” His eyes begin to gleam and his lips stretch into a smile. An evil smile. “In fact, would you like me to show you around?”
Mariah and Naomi finally take notice of the spectacularly gorgeous man in front of me. “Ella?” Mariah nearly shouts over the music.
“Naomi, I believe you know Ian?”
She nods. “I used to see you around… though not lately. Glad to see you’ve come back.”
Ian nods his head in greeting.
“Mariah, this is Ian Bla—” Oops, almost forgot the no surname rule.
Mariah smiles, trying to make herself heard over the music. “Yes, I remember Ian. He came to our condo looking for you after you absconded from the country last year.”
He offers a restrained smile to Mariah. “Nice to see you again, Mariah. And it’s also very nice to see you again, Naomi. I’m going to steal Ariel away from you ladies for a little while… if that’s okay?”
Both of them turn to me and I nod my assent nervously. Mariah looks admiringly at Ian. “Sure. Just make sure to bring her back just the way you found her, please.”
He gives them his most devastating smile, the one that should come with a warning label that says Caution: dangerous to your health and mental well-being.
“I’ll be sure to do that. Excuse us, please. Ariel?” He holds out his hand.
I slide off the barstool. “Can I take my drink?”
He assesses me up and down. “I think maybe you’ve had enough.” He moves to grasp the glass to put it back down but I swing it out of his reach.
“No, Ian, I haven’t had enough. As a matter of fact, I don’t think there’s enough alcohol behind that bar to be enough for me tonight.” And I walk ahead of him, drink in hand.