by Ella Miles
It's also one of the reasons why I stick to dates. I like being alone. I don't care about settling down anytime soon. I don't want a live-in boyfriend or a husband. Work keeps me plenty busy. I date one night a week.
My date gets one shot with me, and no matter how much we connect or how good the sex is, that's all I’ll ever give him. I don't want to get attached. I don't him to develop feelings for me either, so I follow my simple rules. One man, one date, once a week.
I stretch, wishing I had time for a quick yoga session before my date but I don't. I pour myself a glass of red wine and then head to my bedroom to find a suitable dress for tonight. I strip down to my black lace bra and underwear. I always wear sexy underwear, even when I'm the only one who is going to see it, especially on days I’m in court. Racy lingerie makes me feel strong and confident, which I need in the courtroom.
I dig through my closet and find a simple black dress with plenty of sex appeal between its short length and low-cut front, giving off the vibe that I expect sex tonight and lots of it. I get dressed and touch up my hair and makeup in the mirror. I consider curling my hair but think better of it. I don't want him to think I'm trying too hard. That's not what tonight is about. If he thinks I'm trying hard, then he'll think I want to go on a second date. I don't.
I apply another coat of red lipstick as I hear a knock on the door, faintly from behind my blaring music. I glance at the clock on my phone; he's early. One positive strike for him already. Carrying my wine and phone with me, I head to the living room and turn off the music on my way to the door. We have plenty of time to have a drink together first before heading to dinner.
I open the door with an intriguing smile. My skin flushes, my lips part, and my knees grow so weak I have to grasp the doorframe to remain standing when I see how ruggedly handsome my date is. He has shoulder-length dark hair, a scar across his cheek that makes him look a little dangerous, but nothing compared to the men I prosecute. His body looks strong and fit beneath his simple black T-shirt and jeans. He appears to be way underdressed for the restaurant he told me he was taking me to tonight, but maybe I'm the one who’s overdressed. There is also something familiar about him that I can’t place.
"Would you like to come in and have a drink before our date tonight?" I ask Saul. I rake my teeth over my bottom lip letting him know how much I appreciate his body and charming appearance. Jack did an excellent job setting us up.
"I'd love to come in.”
He steps inside, taking up space like he owns the place as he walks. I shut the door behind us and rush forward, leading him into my kitchen.
"Is red wine okay or would you like something else?" I ask, my voice raspy as I speak. I swallow hard, trying to remedy my voice.
He scours the room, but I have no idea what he’s looking for. "Red wine is fine.”
I suddenly feel nervous, my hands clammy, as I begin pouring him a glass of wine. I'm used to dating powerful, strong men, but this man is different. He walks around commanding attention, demanding my eyes to stay on him and he's barely said anything or hardly even looked at me. I'm used to sharp dressed men that give me flowers and complements, place their hand on the small my back, or link our fingers together.
He does none of these things. But yet he requires everything of me.
He walks over to the colossal windows spanning the entire length of the wall, looking out over the ocean. I walk over to him and hold out his glass of wine to him, my hand shaking slightly. "Here you go.”
He takes the glass from me, lifts it to his mouth, and takes a sip before spitting it out.
He eyes the glass suspiciously. "You call this wine? It's disgusting."
I snort and raise an eyebrow as I take the wine glass back from him. "Sorry, I don't have much experience with wine, so I usually buy whatever cheap wine is on sale. I think I have some whiskey if you prefer?”
He shakes his head. “I don't think I trust your taste in whiskey either."
“I guess you'll be the one picking out the wine at dinner tonight."
He reaches out and tugs gently on one of my strands of hair. “Do you always straighten your hair like this?"
I nod. “Why? You don't like it?" I open my eyes wide and give him an ‘I dare you to say you hate it’ stare.
“No reason. I used to know someone who wore her hair very much like yours. It suits you well."
“Thank you. Although, straight is a trendy hairstyle. I do have a close friend who wears her hair very similar to mine. People would call us twins, or at the very least, sisters because we were so much alike."
“And what is your friend's name?"
“Nina."
“Would Nina like to go on a double date with us to dinner this evening?”
I shake my head. “No, she doesn't live here.”
I swear he frowns at the news, but then again, he seems always to be frowning or grimacing or glaring. He doesn't seem like a happy, relaxed person. He seems stiff and far too serious.
I’m one to talk. I spend my whole day being serious. Maybe his work is similar to mine, and he has to take it seriously. I can understand why it would be hard for him to relax, even on a date.
“Shall we head to dinner?”
“Sure, that way we can get you a proper drink," I say smiling at him, hoping he will smile back.
He doesn’t; he continues to stare at me like he has seen a ghost or something.
A knock at the door startles me, and I turn.
“Maybe it's the doorman delivering a package or something?” I say, walking toward the door after setting my wine glass down on the kitchen counter.
I open the door and see a charming man standing in my doorway in a suit, holding a modest bouquet of daisies. He grins at me as he approvingly checks out my tanned legs and cleavage.
I wince, holding the door open. “I’m sorry I think you have the wrong condo.”
“You’re Eden Collins, right?"
I nod. “And you are?"
“I’m Saul Lewis. Jack set us up on a blind date tonight or did I get the wrong day?” He glances behind me to the man standing in my living room.
“Wait, you’re Saul?”
He nods.
“Can you show me your ID?”
He raises an eyebrow, reaching into his back pocket for his ID and handing it to me. I read his name across the top of his driver's license. Saul Lewis.
I storm back to the living room, leaving Saul standing in my doorway.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my home?”
I cross my arms over my chest and give him a glare I only reserve for the worst of the criminals I prosecute.
He chuckles. “I’m surprised you don't recognize me, sweetheart."
I stare at him a second longer, and then I do. “No…"
He cocks his head to the side flashing me a grin I immediately hate. “So you do remember me. That's good; it means you'll help me."
“No, get out of my condo Matteo. Now."
He takes a sprawling seat on my leather couch instead, a couch that seems small with his muscular body dwarfing it.
My eyes fly open at the audacity of him to come here, let alone sit down on my couch, after what he did to my friend. Nina may have forgiven him, but I don't. I’ve barely absolved Arlo, and that's only because she loves him. I can't forgive Matteo. Besides, now he is in charge of the Carini company, so I’m sure he's done far worse things than any of the men I lock up on a daily basis.
“Should I come in or what?" Saul asks from the doorway.
“Yes, come in.”
Saul walks inside. “Do you need help throwing this guy out?"
“No, I can handle him."
I turn my attention back to Matteo. “Unless you came to tell me something's happened to Nina and Arlo, I don't want to hear about it."
“Actually, I’m here to find out where they are. They call you. You know exactly where they are. So tell me, and I’ll be on my way."
I hate
myself for finding him attractive for even a minute. I hate myself for wanting anything to do with this monster.
“Why do you want to know?"
“Because I need my brother’s help."
I search his eyes. “Liar."
He smirks, leaning forward, his eyes glued to me. “Fine. Because Arlo stole something from me and I want it back."
My heart sinks. “Nina. You want Nina back."
He nods.
I smile. “You're never gonna find them."
“And why not?"
“Because I don't know where they are. Yes, they call me and let me know they're safe every once in a while, but they never tell me where they are. Just that they're safe. They never tell you where they are either. Arlo is better than you at this sort of thing. They'll be able to run and hide from you forever."
A pinched expression crosses his face as he stares at me, then at my date, and back to me again.
“I don't think I’ll have any trouble finding them,” Matteo says, standing up from my couch and walking toward Saul. “Enjoy your date. Don't let her pick the wine.” He’s at my door in seconds, while I’m still staring at the couch, confused as to what the hell's going on.
“Where are you going?" I snap out of my stupor.
He stops short of the door, turns, and smirks at me. His eyes grow venomous.
“I’m letting you have one last date before I take you.”
2
Eden
I'm stunned as the door slams shut.
He's gone as quickly as he came. He struck fear into my heart and disappeared into the night leaving me with a thousand questions and no answers.
I close my eyes and crack my head side to side before deeply exhaling as I let all of the air out of my body. Calm. I need to remain calm. Now I wish I had had time for that yoga session to help relax me.
"Eden, what's wrong? What's going on?"
I ignore Saul. I can't handle his questions right now. I don't even have time to deal with my own fear. The only thing I can worry about is how to keep Matteo from kidnapping me.
There’s a reason Nina and Arlo ran. Matteo was one of those reasons. He may be Arlo’s brother, but I know what he’s capable of. He’s ruthless and will do whatever it takes to get what he wants.
I’m desperate for a solution and fast. I need a way to get rid of Matteo.
Nina. I rush over to the counter where my phone is lying and pick it up, ready to dial the number I memorized by heart. A number I’m only supposed to use in emergencies. Matteo coming back and threatening to steal me is unquestionably an emergency. I unlock my phone and begin dialing the numbers 376…
I stop.
I can't call Nina.
I try to swallow the lump in my throat. The one person who could help me is the one person I can’t call. The one person who understands Matteo better than anyone. The one person who knows what Matteo might be planning.
All I know is I don’t trust Matteo. I would be putting her in danger.
And if I tell Nina what is going on, she will come back. She will want to fight. And I can't put her through something like this again. She's happy. And even if I was able to convince her not to come back, Matteo could be tracking my calls. He could figure out that I know how to contact her. He could use the information to discover where she is. And I won't help him find her. I won’t risk Nina’s life no matter the cost.
Matteo didn’t tell me why he wants Nina. But I doubt his intentions are pure. Nina told me almost everything. Matteo loved her as much as Arlo. She made her choice. She chose Arlo, now Matteo has to live with it. I don’t want to imagine what battle might ensue if he was to find her.
I don’t trust Arlo much more than I do Matteo, but Nina is as safe as she can be with him. Matteo can’t find them.
Heath. I can call Heath. He is the only other person who might understand. He went through all this with Nina, and as much as I hate to bring him back into this world again, he is the only option I have.
I find his contact in my phone and dial the number. I hold my phone to my ear as my fingers drum across my granite countertops. I listen to one ring, two, three…
"Come on Heath, answer your damn phone.”
Four rings… It goes to his answering machine.
"Call me when you get this. ASAP. It's an emergency."
I slam the phone down hard on the counter, not caring when the small crack forms in the corner of my phone. Stupid phone.
My whole body shakes. I'm not afraid Matteo’s going to take me. For one, I won’t let him. But I'm petrified of what would happen to Nina if he stole her from Arlo. She wouldn't survive being ripped from the love of her life. So I have to stop Matteo.
"Eden?…Are you okay?” Saul says as he walks over to me and carefully places his hand on my shoulder.
I exhale deeply again, letting everything out. I try to find my tranquil, happy place, but his unsteady hand shaking my entire body isn’t helping.
"Thank you. I'm going to be fine." I step away, causing his hand to drop from my body.
"You want to tell me what that was about?"
I turn and try to make my eyes brighten at him as I force my lips to smile. "No. It was nothing important.”
He looks away as he rubs his tidy hair, making a mess of it. Sweat glistens on his forehead.
"What do you want to do now?"
I pause before answering. “Go out to dinner on our date and then whatever you had planned afterward. I want to forget about all this." I don’t mention that I’m more desperate than I was before to have him. For him to fuck me and make me forget about what just happened. I want him to take me to a restaurant and then fuck me in the bathroom halfway through dinner.
"Okay," he smiles at me. He holds out his arm, and I take it, trying to focus on him as he leads me out of the condo and out to his waiting Volvo. He opens the door for me like the perfect gentleman he is, and I climb in as he goes around to the driver side. He starts up the car and turns on the radio, drowning out the silence.
"Do you like Asian food? This restaurant I'm taking you to does this fusion thing between Asian and Mexican.”
Normal conversation. This is exactly what I need.
"I love Asian food."
He reaches over and takes my hand in his, holding it softly. I let my hand rest in his, despite how clammy his hand is.
I’m going to pretend like Matteo didn't walk into my life. I'm not going to run as Nina did. I'm going to stay and fight. All running did for Nina was stall the inevitable anyway. She ran and was still stolen. And in the meantime, she lived a life of fear.
I'm not running. I'm a smart, intelligent woman. I’m skilled enough to take on this asshole and win. I won't be taken.
The restaurant is impressive. It's the kind of restaurant where you sit on the floor on pillows, and they bring out food on sizable trays. The food was clearly thought out to blend aspects of Asian and Mexican cooking, with some dishes bringing a sweet heat of Korea and others the full-on spice of a jalepeño. The chef apparently had deep roots in both of the cultures, and it shows.
Saul does his best to keep the conversation light and moving, but we don't have much in common, and I'm far too distracted to be able to focus on much of what he is saying.
"Have you taken self-defense classes before?" I ask, unable to take my mind off the fact I may require his help tonight.
Saul clears his throat and blinks rapidly. "No."
"Know how to shoot a gun?"
"No."
"Know how to evade someone who is following you in a car?”
"No."
I sigh.
"But I do know how to order delicious wine. The kind that will make you turn up your nose at anything less.”
My cheeks flush, and I readjust my legs loving the sound of his voice and the promises of more. "I could drink some fabulous wine. And I promise no more talk about self-defense or guns."
He reaches his hand out and holds mine again. Somehow his pa
lm seems to have taken on even more moisture. I try my best to ignore it.
"Good, I may not own a gun, but I do know how to call the police."
I nod, and repeat to myself: I won't let Matteo make me afraid. I won't fear him.
I push away all thoughts of Matteo and enjoy my meal with Saul. I drink fabulous wine and eat delicious food. And I let ideas of all the ways that I want Saul to fuck me creep in like I would on any other date. His hands may be clammy, and the words that leave his mouth may be dull, but when he moves, I can see his biceps flex beneath his suit jacket. When he does grin, it reaches his deep blue eyes, inviting me in. And I have noticed his cock straining against the zipper on his pants more than once tonight. I do not doubt that he’s incredible in bed.
I take the last bite of my chocolate dessert, savoring it slowly in my mouth before I swallow it down. I moan a little at the richness and glance over at Saul staring at me like he wants to eat me for dessert. I glance down at his erection that is straining against his pants. My lips part. I can't wait.
"You had your fun. Now tell me where Nina and Arlo are or I'm taking you with me."
I don't have to turn around to recognize that it's Matteo standing behind me.
"No."
My eyes cut over to Saul, whose eyes are bulging up at Matteo. Saul’s scared shitless. Why couldn't I have been set up with a Navy SEAL or something? This man is utterly useless to me.
Matteo places his hand on my shoulder, gripping it firmly, letting me know that he's in control. I grab his hand, zeroing in on his pinky finger, and twist hard, ensuring that it breaks.
“Son of a bitch,” Matteo says, pulling his hand back from me to tend to his wound.
I stand up and turn to face him with a set jaw and my chin high.
His finger is bent backward in a way that no finger should bend.
"You bitch. You broke my finger."
"I did."
"Do you know who I am? I'm a monster now. King of everything evil. Your little tantrums won’t protect you from my army."
I smirk. "I put away monsters every day. I can handle you." I pick up my purse and turn to Saul. "We’re leaving."
