"No," he said dryly.
Reaching over and raising a drawing to eye level, she wrinkled her nose and tossed it onto Chase’s neat pile. "Ah, Miss Fox's concepts...they’re ok, I guess," she spoke with a touch of venom.
"I don't recall asking for your input, sister dear! Why not leave the designing to the design professionals. You just work on the PR for the city hall project, what say you?" he responded in a likewise dry manner. His demeanor was cold and icy.
Placing a small stack of file folders on the table, she scowled at her brother. "Whatever,” she snorted. “These are the media revisions for the city hall. You should look them over so we can have them ready and available when needed. In the next couple of weeks would be good."
Rheanna glared at her brother, trying to get some kind of insight, always so suspicious and nosy. Chase hated the nosiness most about his sister, that among many other things. Their relationship was beyond strained. They were anything but the normal brother/sister. No love lost here.
"Tell me you’re not going to pursue this Fox chick," she blurted out. "She's not your type, you know? She’s all blonde and dripping with sweetness."
Chase narrowed his eyes in his sister’s direction with disbelief. "It's Miss Fox, and you’re seriously out of line, don’t suggest who I see and don't see." He shook his head. "This is not kindergarten and none of your business!"
With her hands on her hips, in a bitch with claws stance, she said, "Face it Chase, you are thinking with your dick." She sat down, casually crossing her long, thin legs and adjusting her far too short skirt as she settled in.
"Don't be so fucking crude, Rheanna!" he warned, gathering up the drawings and files, ready to make his way back to his office, to put as much distance between the two of them as possible.
Taking absolutely no notice of her brother’s forewarning she continued on, as always, blind to the fact that she was interfering where she needn’t be. She was treading on mighty thin ice. "Don't get involved Chase, don't fuck this up by getting all caught up in her. This company doesn’t need any more bullshit from your sluts. I can smell trouble!" she stated bluntly while she glared.
Chase twisted his head around with an angry stare. "Then keep your fucking nose out!" He tore off out the door, slamming it behind him.
***
Eden was familiar with 49 Social. This was not a restaurant she had frequented, but she knew it was fun and casual. She would wear something dressy, but keep it tamed down.
She was on the tense side as she looked through her closet trying to decide what to wear that wouldn't be too sexy, but still make her look hot just the same.
The perfect choice for this evening was a red wrap around dress that dipped nicely into her cleavage and made her waist look slight, with red stilettos to match. Sexy, but not overly so, just enough to keep his interest, but not exactly tease. She chose a pair of her favorite tear drop diamond earrings as her only jewelry, less being more.
Deciding to wear her hair up, she wound it loosely at the back of her head, tucking in the ends, then clipping it with a small faux diamond clip. She wore only mascara and a touch of soft pink lip gloss.
"Ready!" she said out loud, trying to calm the butterflies thundering in the pit of her stomach. She had to get rid of this anxious feeling; she was making herself sick.
"You’re in control, you are in control!" She took in a deep breath and made her way out the door to the cab that was waiting for her.
***
Eden looked around the restaurant. It was dimly lit and fairly busy. A hum of countless voices, all in mingled conversations, china and cutlery clattering and tantalizing aromas wafting in the air. Laughter and lively music were mixed. Maroon 5, one of her favorite bands, played through the speaker system, not too loud but still recognizable just the same.
She tried to see past the people in front of her. There was a break in the crowd, and she saw Chase seated at the bar to the right side of the room. He turned and their eyes met. He got up from his stool, and the crowd parted like the Red Sea, which made her laugh at the thought. He walked over to where she stood waiting.
Chase was dressed casually in dark denim jeans, a tan shirt and weathered brown leather jacket. His curly raven hair danced unruly and sexy above his eyes with each step he took. She could not take her eyes off of him; he definitely had charisma. He took her breath away. She knew that she was blushing, her skin prickling with goose bumps.
Leaning in to speak, she took in his scent. So wild, so masculine. "Hello Eden. It's good to see you again. Our table is ready, come."
He took her by the hand. She found that she liked his familiar touch as he skillfully wove through the crowd to a single set of stairs at the far end of the room.
He released her hand and gestured for her to go up. "Ladies first...by the way you look fantastic. Red’s my favorite color."
She was sure her face was the same shade as her dress as she made her way up, all the while thoughts of him watching her ass ringing impishly in her head.
A waiter stood at the top of the stairs to welcome them. He showed them to a table overlooking the restaurant below. It was quite intimate, but not at all private. She was comforted in the fact that they were in public view.
"Good evening, Mr. Dean. Would you like something from the bar to start?" the waiter asked, looking at Eden while placing a bar menu on the table.
"Red wine for me, house will be fine, thank you." She looked around the room, she had the confidence of a field mouse around this man, however she'd have to get over that, and fast. They would be working closely together for a long time.
Chase had an amused look on his oh-so-handsome face. "We’ll share my usual bottle of Masi Campofiorin 2009 please," he said, slipping off his jacket and placing it over the chair beside him.
“You don’t need to impress me with expensive wine,” Eden advised him.
He smiled at her assumption. So wrong; she didn’t know him at all. “Not expensive, it’s just my favorite red. Do you like cherries?” he asked.
He was letting her off the hook, and she was grateful. Already dealing with a ball of anxiety rolling around in her gut, she didn’t need to be ribbed for her stupidity too. “Yes. Why?”
“Masi Campofiorin has a wonderful cherry aftertaste you should enjoy. It goes very well with Italian food,” he assured her.
After a long silence, Eden looked over to find him watching her, elbows on the table with his hands clasped together under his chin. He never flinched.
"You come here often?" she asked. They both burst into laughter at the platitude.
Leaning back in his chair, he replied, "I’ve been here a few times. The food’s great, nice ambiance,” he answered, all the while never taking his eyes off of her. “I take it you haven’t been here before."
Eden shook her head and smiled. “No.”
The waiter arrived with the wine and poured out two glasses placing them on beverage napkins in front of them. "Your dinner will be served soon, Mr. Dean," he said and walked away.
"I hope you don't mind. I took the liberty of ordering a tasting menu, the chef’s a friend,” he said. “I could have the waiter come back if you like."
"No, that sounds fine," she said, impressed somewhat, all the while acting like it was no big deal. She carried on like this was an everyday occurrence for her, when in fact she rarely stepped out unless it was for business, or to help Mikala at the club.
She took a sip of her wine then returned the glass to the napkin while searching the table with her eyes. She noted that there wasn’t anything on the table but the normal accoutrements for dinner. No paperwork, no business, she concluded.
“How’s the wine?” he asked, noting her roving eyes, knowing what she was looking for, feeling only the slightest bit of guilt for deceiving her. A tiny white lie wasn’t going to get him into too much trouble, at least he hoped.
Her eyes met his. “It’s very nice. Very cherry, I like it.” She glanced over the table and then met his eyes
again in question. “So?”
“So what?” he asked, playing with her and she knew it, but he was enjoying himself. She would be fun to play with, in more ways than one.
"So, what was it that you wished to discuss regarding the concept drawings...and where are they if we’re going to discuss them?" She looked at him with raised brows.
"I don't need the drawings in front of me, there is nothing to change." He shifted forward in his chair. "What can I say? I think your concepts are dead on, like you were drawing them through my eyes. There may be a few things to add later as we get closer to the actual occupancy. I really like your work."
"I don't understand Mr. Dean…Chase, what are we doing here?" A sense of confusion turned to annoyed curiosity. "Are you screwing with me? You got me here under false pretenses?"
"I wouldn’t put it exactly like that. We did just discuss the drawings, right?" he asked with a sinful twinkle in his eye, but she didn’t look impressed at all. He watched as she reached for her purse and started to push back her chair.
He reached over and quickly took hold of her wrist. "Ok, I wanted to see you again." He caressed her knuckles softly with his thumb and quickly confessed, "I needed to see you again."
She felt herself warm to his words until annoyance at his arrogance took center stage. “You could have just asked me to dinner, without the trickery.”
“I didn’t think you would have accepted my invitation.” He watched to see her reaction, knowing full well that she would have given him the brush off, made an excuse. “In fact, I was positive.”
“You’re probably right,” she acquiesced. “But still, you never considered that I may have accepted, you just assumed, therefore you’ll never really know, will you?”
“Touché,” he quoted with a grin.
The smile that spread across his face and the acknowledging nod of his head was priceless and told her that she was the winner in that round. Well done, she thought to herself with a smug smile.
The waiter cleared his throat, breaking the banter. She jerked her hand free from his grasp, and the waiter placed the food and plates on the table, nodding in the direction of Chase as he left.
During their meal, they shared two more bottles of wine and light conversation. They discussed designs for the new office spaces. Eden rambled on about sleek lines, stainless steel, and the use of glass sculptures. Chase talked about his love of wood and classic design. She was in her element, feeling relaxed and more comfortable. As they talked and laughed, she was truly enjoying being in his company.
The waiter approached with a desert menu, but Eden passed. She’d had enough trouble finishing their scrumptious dinner and Chase also declined. "Did you want more wine?" he asked.
"Sure that would be nice." She was feeling no pain at this point, much more at ease. Chase filled their glasses. Eden took her glass, drinking back half of it while Chase watched. Amused at how this petite goddess before him was putting it away, he noted that she was not so uptight, far more approachable. Maybe a little too approachable. Taking her glass from her and setting it aside he said quietly, "I think we’ve both had enough."
“Now you’re my liquor control board?” Eden laughed, but had to agree, she definitely didn’t need anymore. The nice little buzz she had been enjoying was fast turning into full blown intoxication. The room spun and focusing was becoming a challenge.
"So, tell me, Eden, what do you do for fun?" He settled closer with his forearms crossed, resting on the table, studying her inquisitively.
She mirrored him, moving in closer, looking up in the air, then she began running her finger slowly across her lower lip, her tongue glistened just beyond. She was in deep thought. "Let me think."
"Whoa baby, you need to stop doing that!" he said.
"What, thinking?" She giggled.
"You couldn’t look sexier than you do right at this very moment, playing with that lip of yours.” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Give a guy a break."
He plucked her hand way from her face, placed it gently in his hands, forcing her a bit closer. "You don't know what you do to me, do you Miss Fox?" His eyes were simmering.
Warmth came over her entire body and heat ran rapidly to her lower region; he was weakening her. With the combination of wine, of which she had far too much, his hot sweet breath on her face, and his touch, she was about to come undone.
"What time is it?" She looked for a clock, trying to distract herself.
"10:50 by my watch. Time flies," he said. "I have an early meeting, sorry for keeping you out so late...let me take you home?"
"What? I don't think so, Mr. Dean. No more sex, no matter how hot you make me!" She slurred slightly with a giggle, her inebriation quite obvious now. Chase laughed to himself at her remark, not quite sure she knew what she had said.
She stood and soon regretted the amount of alcohol that she had consumed. Her head spun around the room. Swaying, she staggered into Chase's waiting arms. He laughed at her intoxication and then kicked himself for not cutting her off sooner.
"No baby, I meant drive you home. I have a driver waiting, we will drop you off," he said still laughing, but feeling guilty and ashamed for letting her get drunk.
"Oh, ok then." She couldn't argue, especially in her current state.
She picked up her purse, and permitted him to help her down the stairs and out the door to a waiting limousine. His driver opened the door, and Chase quite literally poured her inside, scooting her over to join her.
"You know something Mr. Chase?" She leaned into him trying to focus, her eyelids heavy and a smirk on her face.
"Do tell, baby." He adjusted himself to wrap his arm around her shoulders.
She frowned and pointed her finger, waving it in the air haphazardly. "And stop calling me baby! It makes me tingle inside!" she said and then furrowed her brow in thought for a moment. "Oh, yeah, you don't know what you do to me either." Her eyes closed and she snuggled closer into his side.
“Yours or hers Mr. Dean?” Neil, Chase’s driver, asked with a smile.
“Hers, thanks.” Chase smiled back.
***
Bright light streaked across Eden's face, making her fully aware that it was morning. She stretched her arms over her head and rolled to her side. The clock said it wasn't yet time to rise and her head said the same.
I'll never drink again! Eden told herself.
Pulling the comforter up to her chin, she molded herself deeper into the pillow, enjoying the warmth and the absence of sound except for her own breathing. Her eyes flew open when she came to the revelation that she was in her bed, and she had no idea when or how she got there.
Throwing back the comforter, her heart skipped a beat when she saw that she wore only her black lace bra and matching boy shorts. Why wasn't she in pj’s? Her dress was draped over the back of the chair across the room, her shoes tucked below. So not like her to not put everything neatly away.
Had she drank that much? Her head sure as hell felt like it. She was sure it would all come to her later after a shower, because she sure as hell needed one. She had a meeting this morning with the architects from Dean.
The shower was hot and welcoming. Steam filled the room, billowing across the ceiling and out the open door to her bedroom. She stood under the hot spray while her head pounded. She washed her hair and body quickly, then stood under the spray with her eyes closed, enjoying the moment for as long as she could.
As she dried off and got dressed, she replayed the previous night’s events in her mind, remembering dinner with Chase, but to her dismay, she couldn't come up with how the evening ended. There was dinner, it was yummy, and the wine flowed freely, perhaps too freely. She and Chase's conversation went well and then the rest was a blur.
Did I make a fool of myself? Oh My God, surely we didn't fuck again?
***
Chase sat at the dining table with his coffee and newspaper, but he didn't see a word on the pages.
Eden was runnin
g through his head, surging in his veins. He had it bad for this woman, real bad, and in such a short time.
The scene of him undressing her and her lying there in only her bra and panties was erotic. He replayed it deliciously over and over in his mind.
His hands warmed at the thought of her soft, delicate, milky skin. He could see her in his mind, running her finger across her bottom lip and he became hard, his arousal pushing painfully against his zipper. He adjusted himself and blew out a long breath.
Get a fucking grip man!
***
Eden sat alone in the board room, studying the papers that outlined today's agenda. This meeting was to discuss structural details, not really her area of expertise, but Hawthorn wanted her to be party to the entire project, and who was she to argue.
A rumble of footsteps coming down the hall led her to sit up awaiting their appearance. She smoothed out her blouse and rubbed her lips together in an attempt to freshen her lip gloss. The pounding in her head increased as they neared the room, and she felt more nauseous with each noisy footstep.
The arrival of the entourage brought her to her feet. In turn, she shook each person’s hand, trying her hardest to appear somewhat vigorous and alive. When everyone was seated she walked over to the door to close it just as Chase moved into the room. She startled, not realizing that he was attending this meeting. Then she remembered him saying something last night about an early morning meeting.
He nodded to the group of men seated at the table. "Good morning." Passing closely enough to brush against her arm, he looked directly into her eyes and with a look she could only describe as wicked. He spoke softly, for her ears only, "Good morning, baby."
With a slight gasp, she could feel her face light up and a heat rise below. She did not reply, but moved swiftly to her seat and thumbed through her paperwork, trying to hide the fact that he could turn her on with mere words. Baby? What happened after dinner? She felt ill, her stomach churned.
The meeting lasted all morning, yet she only took in a quarter of it. She was seriously distracted by Chase’s playful greeting. She watched his every word, but barely heard a thing. The pain in her head was starting to dissolve, the feeling that she could gladly throw up eased to almost non-existent.
Eden's Pleasure (Pulse Book 1) Page 4
