SEVER

the office.
“Boss,” she answers almost immediately. At least someone isn’t screening my calls. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to find me the best, most ruthless divorce lawyer New York has to offer.”
9
“W here are you heading off to looking all fancy and shit?” Amanda leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and wearing a Cheshire cat grin while admiring my off-the-shoulder classic black dress.
“I’m having dinner with Kane Alexander,” I reply, transferring some items from my handbag to my suede clutch.
“As in a dinner date?”
I laugh. “No, certainly not a dinner date. We will be discussing business. I’m sure he’s keen to talk me into taking on his mysterious project.”
“I’m sure that’s not all he’s keen on taking on.”
I snap closed my clutch and eyeroll toward her. “It’s definitely not like that, so get your mind out of the gutter. I’m hoping I can stir his pot a bit to get more answers from him.”
Amanda frowns, eyes radiating suspicion and humor. “Is stirring the pot code for something sexual?”
“If it is, I don’t wanna know what it means.”
We leave my office, and she takes a seat behind her desk.
“Should I call you with a faux emergency at say… seven?”
“I think I’ve got this. He’s harmless enough.” I make to leave but stop at the door. “Oh, and… can we swap cars tomorrow night? I’m on somewhat of a sleuthing mission.”
“Girl… you’ve got all the excitement going on. But, are you really trusting me with the Audi?”
“I am, but don’t ride people’s asses like you normally do. I want it back without a blemish.”
“And I want to hear all about tonight, no details spared.”
I wave goodbye and stop once more, the thought springing to mind. With all that’s happening with Shawn, I’d forgotten about Kane’s comment.
“One more thing. Do you know the original Red Riding Hood story?”
~
“Welcome, Ms. Blakely,” the middle-age balding maître d' smiles, opening the door so I can step inside. I’m momentarily shocked that he greets me by my maiden name since there’s no reason he should know it. I haven’t even used it for seven years. “May I take your coat?”
“Please,” I say turning my back to him and shrugging out of the coat. He disappears into the cloakroom, and I admire the restaurant foyer. It’s all beautiful parquetry floors, Victorian walls and brilliant chandeliers. If Kane is trying to impress, he’s already starting strong.
The maître d' re-emerges. “Mr. Alexander is waiting for you. Please follow me.”
I do so and bypass the few tables occupied with diners who look like they’ve all flown in on private jets.
“Stay calm,” I murmur, feeling nerves dancing around my stomach.
I’m led across the room to the one booth separate from the other diners, our own intimately lit chandelier hanging above.
“Enjoy, Ms. Blakely,” the maître d' says before departing.
Kane stands, holds out his hand, and guides me up the two steps. He pulls me close, kissing my cheek. I feel a rush of something I suddenly want more of, and when his lips brush my ear, the feeling intensifies.
“You look ravishing, Ms. Blakely,” he rumbles, and I smile knowing that, of course, he’s behind the maiden name antic. Kane pulls away and gestures for me to sit. I do so while he takes his place opposite me, immediately pouring me a glass of champagne.
“Very clever,” I say, unable to hide my smile.
He looks up through his lashes, his own smile ever so slightly tilting his lips. “Cooper just doesn’t… suit you.”
“Is that so? Well, I am still married, you know.”
He points to my hand, doubt marring his strong features. “Did you forget to wear your rings on purpose?”
I splay my fingers on the table and look at my naked ring finger. “No, it was intentional. But don’t get ahead of yourself,” I tease. “It has nothing to do with meeting you tonight.”
“Yet.”
Damn him and his smoldering good looks.
My words catch knowing it’s time to switch the focus away from me.
“You chose extremely well tonight,” I say, my gaze moving across the room, taking in all the finery.
“I’m happy you appreciate it. I know you’re a woman of good taste.”
His last four words are a subtle innuendo which have my thighs clenching. I shift in my chair, suddenly uncomfortable with the sexual frustration thrown upon me. I haven’t had sex in over a year, and I worry it’s starting to show. He studies my every movement, drinking me in.
Every. Last. Drop.
I hope to hell this man isn’t a mind reader because if he is, not even Jesus will throw his hand up to help.
Once again, I’m faced with having to change the subject, but Kane beats me to it. He holds his glass high, and I do the same.
“To you, Blythe. To our new business relationship and anything else that follows.”
We clink and hold each other’s gaze while we sip the champagne.
“Thank you, but I haven’t said yes, yet.”
Kane leans forward, eyes narrowing but still loaded with sex and challenge. “I’m not a man who takes no for an answer, so what will it take to convince you?”
“Answers.”
“I’ve already told you as much as I can.”
“Which isn’t a great deal.”
Kane shrugs. “It’s all I’ve got. You need to trust me.”
“I hardly know you.”
“We can change that.”
I swallow hard, feeling his intensity strip me bare on the inside. “My husband says I should be careful around you, and that’s putting it nicely.”
Kane leans back in his chair, interested in what I have to say but somewhat unbothered by others’ opinions of him.
“He’s warned me that you’re not a good person, and that you will destroy me.”
“Destroy? In what way?” he asks, wicked