Page 33 of An Improper Deal (Elliot & Annabelle 1)
“Easy access. Plus, you have great legs.”
Heat floods my face, neck and chest, and it’s not embarrassment. “Stop saying stuff like that.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to focus.”
Thankfully the elevator opens, and I step inside. He follows me in, and the door closes, trapping us inside. Together. Alone.
“It’ll all be standard stuff,” he says. He stands like a perfect gentleman without crowding me, but I feel like I’m surrounded. I can’t even draw in air without smelling his heady scent.
“To you maybe. I’ve never done this kind of thing before.”
“Me either. You’re going to be my first wife.”
“Hopefully you won’t repeat this with your second,” I say, even as a hot ugly feeling roils through me.
I don’t know why the idea of him marrying again bothers me. He made it clear I was going to be his wife for exactly one year. There is no way he’s going to stay single forever afterward. He’s too great a catch, and he’ll want to have a family at some point.
Get your head right. Don’t be stupid, I tell myself over and over again as our elevator rises. I hold myself as still as possible even though I’m slick between my legs, and I’m dying to shift my weight so I don’t feel the wetness so much. It’s that crazy kiss—and his parting remark—that keep coming back to me. Masturbation did very little to alleviate my frustration, and I don’t know why. It did end my orgasm drought. That should’ve been enough, and I should’ve been able to shrug off his effect on me.
Craig Richmond’s office is on the top floor. A tall, lanky blonde in a charcoal-gray suit smiles at Elliot. “Good morning, Mr. Reed.”
“Morning,” he says.
Her gaze skims over me. If she’s wondering what a girl like me is doing with him, it doesn’t show. “Craig’s waiting for you in his office.”
“Excellent.”
Elliot leads me down the hall. A few modern art prints hang on the walls, and a pale gray carpet covers the floor. The office we reach is in the corner, and has huge windows with an impressive view of downtown L.A.
The partner stands up from a leather seat behind a massive executive desk. The glass built-in shelves are clean except for diplomas and various certificates. The man isn’t that much older than the picture on his firm’s website. He has silver-streaked brown hair in a conservative style. His face is light olive and quite affable although I’m sure it can look like a nightmare to his opponents in court. A carefully knotted wine-red silk tie adds color to his black Armani suit. I put him in his late forties.
“Good to see you, Elliot.”
“Hello, Craig.” Elliot puts a hand on my shoulder. “My fiancée.”
I step forward. “Annabelle Key,” I say, since Elliot isn’t going to.
“My pleasure.” Craig pumps my hand twice in a dry, firm handshake. “Shall we?” He gestures at two plushy chairs. “Something to drink, perhaps?”
“A finger of scotch if you have any.”
Craig’s friendly expression doesn’t change, like Elliot drinking this early in the day is normal.
“Just some water, thanks,” I say.
The lawyer pours the drink for Elliot and hands me a small bottle of water from the wet bar in his office. Must be nice to be a partner.
Finally he settles back in his seat. “So. I’ve reviewed your email and drafted a very simple agreement.”
“Wait.” I pull out the memo from my purse. “I have a list.”
Elliot plucks it from my fingers and skims it. “You added two more items.”
“I know, but—”
“Anything else you want to add? This is your final chance.”
