Page 48 of Tangled Roses

I am fascinated by her. When she dropped to her knees before me, I became obsessed with her, which is why I pushed her so violently away.

There is no room in my life for obsession. I must not be distracted from the task at hand, but I can’t let her walk away either and the job was just fabricated to keep her with me. A tantalizing glimpse of what could be mine if I lowered my guard. If I opened my heart to let her in and if I allowed myself to feel.

As I head into the penthouse, I fling my jacket on the couch and fix myself a shot of bourbon. Vodka is replaced by whiskey in America and if I’m honest with myself, I prefer the taste.

“Arman.”

A soft voice freezes the glass midway to my lips and as I turn, I stare at the beautiful apparition before my eyes.

Ellie looks so beautiful I can’t tear my eyes away. She is wearing the red dress I ordered and the ruby and diamond choker grasps her neck with its possessive fingers. She stands tall on black louboutins and her hair gleams as it hangs to her shoulders, her eyes bright as she stares in my direction.

“You look tired.”

I down the shot and set the glass on the table, reluctant to tear my eyes away from her, hating the urgent need within me to pull her into my arms and never let go.

She nods toward the couch.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

I don’t move a muscle as she drops onto the soft leather and gazes at me with a quizzical expression, as if waiting for something.

I say nothing and she nods toward the clock on the mantlepiece above the stone fireplace.

“Luka told me to meet you at seven. Was he wrong?”

“No.”

I feel like a fool. Of course, I have reservations and I need to shower and change.

“I’m sorry. My meetings took longer than I anticipated.”

I glance at the time. “There is no time to change. The reservation is for seven-thirty.”

“You look fine.” She reassures me and yet I’m aware I don’t. I’ve been wearing the same shirt all day and I need to freshen up.

“Wait for me. I won’t be long.”

I head to the door and then stop when she says with hesitation.

“Um, I’m sorry, but I have something to tell you.”

I turn slowly. “What?”

She fidgets with her fingers and then says, slightly guiltily, “I didn’t order anything.”

“Order what?”

I’m confused, and she says quickly, “Luka told me to order stuff with your credit card but I got distracted.”

“Doing what?”

I don’t like the worry in her eyes, as if she’s done something I won’t like, and she glances down and whispers, “I shopped for information instead.”

I head back to her side and drop into the seat beside her.

“What information?”