“And I won’t,” I tell him.
“Won’t you at least tell me who the lucky woman was? A guest at this hotel? An employee? A prostitute? European? American?”
A knock on the door interrupts him before he can get to “Asian” or “African.” I think it might be Ryker so I open it. Instead, I see Stella in a stunning red dress that hugs her waist. The asymmetrical neckline suggests a tinge of playfulness without taking away from a look that means business. A solid front.
Then again, maybe that’s not the dress but Stella herself. She looks ready not just for work but for battle, her hair combed back into a coil that looks like a crown on the top of her head, her lipstick on, her shoulders straight, her purse hanging from her arm. Perfect.
And all I want to do is make a mess of her.
“Good morning, sir,” she greets me as she gives me the cup of coffee in her hand.
It’s enough to jolt me back to my senses.
“Good morning.”
Behind me, I hear a whistle.
“Stella,” Asher greets her with a smile. “What a surprise.”
I give him a puzzled look. “I told you I was bringing her along on this trip.”
“I know,” Asher says. “I just almost didn’t recognize her.”
He stands beside me and appraises Stella from head to toe.
“You look ravishing, Stella. Switzerland seems to be good for you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Stella answers. “I’m glad you arrived safely.”
“They also arrived early,” I point out.
“So I heard. I hope you were able to get some rest.”
“I was,” Asher replies. “But I’m not sure Ethan did.”
I narrow my eyes at him. He ignores me.
“How about you? Did you sleep well, or is jet lag still affecting you?”
“I’m fine,” Stella says confidently.
“You definitely look it,” Asher tells her. “Doesn’t she, Ethan?”
I tear my gaze away from her and turn to Asher. “I think we should get going. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go.” I take a sip of my coffee. “We have a big day ahead.”
~
We arrive at the company headquarters of Odermatt Corp. with time to spare. As soon as Simone Odermatt arrives, the meeting begins. After an exchange of the usual pleasantries and some small talk, I start off with a speech then Ryker follows with his presentation. Then Asher. Then the discussion begins. Odermatt comes off as a reserved man of ideals. That’s not exactly the best combination for business, but I acknowledge his brilliance and the fact that his top executives seem to be willing to follow him into the depths of hell itself. I’m almost envious because that’s the kind of leadership I’ve been aspiring to establish.
Now that I’ve met him and his top executives in person, I’m even more convinced that his company will be an asset to ours. No, not just an asset. It will be an ace, something that will add a lot of value to the company and pivot it forward. I’m determined to see this acquisition through.
So far, everything seems to be going well. Asher and Ryker’s presentations were both impressive, and while Odermatt and his gang seem to be a tough crowd to please – they haven’t cracked a smile since the meeting started – I haven’t heard any serious objections or any sign that they might bolt. Just some minor concerns that we already saw coming and are prepared to address.
Everything is under control.
There’s only one tiny, unforeseen problem – Stella. Not that she’s committing any blunders. In fact, for her first time in a meeting with another company on foreign soil, she’s been perfect. She sits in the corner taking notes, silent, invisible, and yet whenever I need something from her, it appears in front of me, sometimes before I say anything. I couldn’t have asked for a better assistant.
The problem? As much as she tries not to draw attention – and she succeeds with the other people in the room – she somehow keeps getting mine.
It’s that red dress. Each time I glance in her direction, it catches my eye, just like that red laser dot on the floor never fails to pique a cat’s interest. I find myself staring at that patch of skin above her asymmetrical neckline and thinking that maybe I should have left my mark there on that spot above her pulse. My gaze wanders to the knees peeking beneath the hem of her dress, especially when she crosses her legs. I wonder what underwear she’s wearing today. Another enticing silk piece? Lace? Does it match her bra? I don’t see a strap, but surely she must be wearing one. Or is she?
All I want to do is tear that red dress off her and place my hands and my mouth all over that incredible body that’s hidden underneath. I want to leave an indelible mark on every inch, to taste every part of her. Last night wasn’t enough. Not close. There’s so much more I want to do to her, with her.