2020, July 23rd
(Maine, Caspira)
NATHAN
I almost threw Grayson under a bus when Madz told me that he was taking point on the Keira/Kate situation and I was being reassigned. That was until I saw her name on the file.
My sisters could handle a few days without me following them around. Tailing Keira and Aiden wasn't exactly PG-13. Those people needed more than just a room, they needed an entire country. I was happy for Keira though. She wasn't like me. She couldn't hop from bed to bed and do the no strings thing. It was no wonder the first time she tried she ended up still stuck with the guy five months later. They should take whatever they could get and hold on for as long as they could.
Fingers crossed Kate didn't try to put a bullet or a blade in Aiden while I was gone. Grayson wasn't exactly Aiden's biggest fan. He'd probably just watch it happen.
Speaking of taking whatever we could. There she was. My brand new assignment. She was all mine for the next month. I probably needed at least as long for this one, to get her out of my system.
Her skin was pale as snow; rose red lips; secretive, stormy gray eyes; her strawberry blonde hair often neatly tied back into a bun. She was a looker alright. She had my attention from the moment I laid eyes on her. In all honesty, it was probably more accurate to say since I laid eyes on her pulling a gun off her naked thigh. Semantics.
When she held me at gunpoint in that wedding dress, the full length of her leg still on display, I fell in love at first sight. With her smoking hot, little body. Surely if I wasn't the scoundrel that I was, I would have fallen for her mind too.
She was a quick, no nonsense spitfire who held her own in a room better than any of the men around her. Even if she had to work twice as hard to get them to pay attention to her words instead of her rack. I just didn't buy into falling in love. Dormers didn't get to have people in their lives. All of my siblings were proof of that. No one more so than our oldest brother Neil, who died for love.
I couldn't get her out of my head though. From the first day that we met, I had been pursuing her, watching her, asking her out. The florist I kept sending flowers to her from called when I almost missed a day last month.
No matter what I did or how many charity events or business parties I accidentally/on purpose bumped into her at, I just couldn't get this woman to give me the time of day. Madz was probably as good as a guy could do as wingmen go though. Tonight she wouldn't be able to turn me away.
"Vodka Martini for the lady," I said to the bartender. "Wet. Straight up. Shaken."
She didn't look at me, but I was used to that by now. She did stand up straight though. Her little tell that she probably liked looking at me too much to dare to. I gave a seductive smirk, wide enough that I knew she would catch it from the corner of her eye.
"Stalking is a crime you know. I know it's technically part of your job description, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't keep showing up wherever I do," she sassed me.
"I would, I really would, but then I wouldn't get to see you make that face when you get that little rush between your legs that seeing me gives you. Lose-lose situation," I flirted.
We reached out for the drink the bartender had just laid down on the bar at the same time. She withdrew almost instantly. I picked up her glass and closed in on her. Laying my other hand on her lower back, I held the glass up to her lips. Finally, I got to see them. She raised her stormy eyes to my seagreen ones.
"Sexual harassment, that I can definitely get you locked up for," she said, taking the glass out of my hand and turning on her heel to walk away.
"That might make matters difficult. I'd be less inclined to sell my 2% of Moore Industries shares to the woman who locked me up," I quipped, laying the bait.
I could feel the smile on my face widen, go from one ear to the other. This stopped her dead in her tracks.
"Unless, of course, it was in your bedroom with you in it."
ELENA
I was in the middle of something of a turf war with my father, Duke Moore. These shares would decide who the future CEO of Moore Industries was. My father begrudgingly signed over 50% of Moore Industries to me. His back was up against the wall and he was threatened with embezzlement charges. As matters stood, with the issuing of new shares, I was down to 49%. Stupid Johnny, my younger brother, had lost his 2% in a poker tournament not so long ago.
This was my chance to tell my board, all daddy's golf buddies, to fuck off and make myself the new CEO. My father had become unreliable since Queen Mary's imprisonment and was running the company, the Moore legacy, into the ground. I was only just keeping us afloat. All the damage control was doing me in. Even so, I turned my pretty self around, pasted a smile on my face and went back to Nathan.
"You do not strike me as a poker man."
"What can I say? There are no depths I can not go to," he said, closing in on me, seduction in his eyes as he stole the olive out of my drink, put it in his mouth and pulled out the skewer. "Seriously, none."
I let out a short laugh. That was my move. It was the reason that martinis were my drink. I saw Nathan Dormer coming from a mile away. He wanted to get laid, nothing more, nothing less.
Killer smile; light, playful, green eyes; smug, handsome, carefree face; silky, blonde hair tempting you to drag your fingers through it. His broad shoulders and back made you want to take off his shirt so you could see the rest. Looking as good as he did, this guy probably didn't hear no often, if ever.
Hell, even I was having trouble despite knowing who and what he was. Player. Assassin. So hot. But damn it, I was Elena Moore, not some cheap floozy.
"Hey, I get it. You're that guy. Men wish they had your rocking body, good looks, sexy eyes and the women. Oh, the women! They just can't stop themselves from tripping over their feet to drop their panties for you."
Nathan chuckled. "But let me guess, you're different. You're a good girl. You want a guy to buy you dinner a couple of million times and put a ring on it before you put out."
Was that what he thought? Did I give off prude vibes? If he only knew. I closed in on him, dipped my fingers into his untouched bourbon and pulled out an ice cube.
"Nope," I said, dragging the ice cube across her lips, down her neck and past her cleavage, leaving a glistening, wet trail in its wake. "My mind's as dirty as the woman's that you're taking home tonight and I find you incredibly sexy. The thing is, I just don't like you."
I closed in on him and dropped what was left of the ice cube back into his glass. He couldn't help but watch it drop back into the liquor. His cologne wafted to my nostrils. An unforgettable scent that never failed to make my pulse pick up speed. I had to find ways to recognize him, what with him popping up at a moment's notice. Looking for his face obviously wasn't a good option. I tucked my card into his breast pocket.
"Call if you want to talk business. Lose it if you don't," I said, laying my hand over the card and giving him a pat before retreating.