Mogul
Page 22
There’s a pause as we stare into each other’s eyes again.
“I couldn’t make her happy.”
“That’s impossible,” I whisper.
“Trust me, it’s possible.” He lets me go and sets me on my feet, coming to his feet, too. He drags a hand across the back of his neck, then sighs and plunges his hands into his pockets. “Apparently I worked more than I paid attention to her.” He shrugs, his jaw squaring as he stares out the window. “Somewhere along the way I fell out of love with her—and she with me. I caught her with my accountant.”
“Oh my God, that’s awful!” I’m instantly shuddering on his behalf, disgusted that his wife could do this to him.
“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck again before dropping his arm at his side and fisting his other hand. “I’ve been angry for a long time.”
Again, eye contact. A swift shadow of anger overcoming me.
“I’m sorry, Ian.”
“I am too. I don’t wish this on anyone.” Our eyes keep holding. “But I’m glad I walked in on them. I could’ve lived years settling for a half-assed marriage, not knowing my wife was sleeping around on me. If there’s one thing I don’t tolerate it’s being made a fool of.”
“The betrayal must have hurt.”
“It hurt just like every other disappointment hurts.”
He undoes the buttons at his cuffs and rolls his sleeves to his elbows, frowning. He has a fiery, angry look about him that’s unfamiliar to me, and it makes me want to walk over and offer him comfort.
I can’t imagine what being betrayed by the one you love and vowed to spend your whole life with feels like. I know that seeing my parents go through something similar has been devastating. Especially because neither my mother nor I saw it coming. And so the betrayal feels even worse.
I notice how my mother cannot help but wonder what she did wrong. I have done the same. Even thinking that it’s my fault, somehow, that Dad no longer loves her.
It cannot be that different for Ian.
Exhaling in almost relief, I realize now that the situation is cleaner than I imagined it could be. Ian wasn’t the instigator of the divorce; he was the victim here. I want to walk up to him and hug him, but a part of me still holds back because I don’t know that I want to get involved with a guy going through something like this. Divorces are messy procedures, and you can’t be sure of how things are going to go until it’s all signed and really over.
“Thank you for telling me.” I hesitate before I gather the courage to take a few steps closer to him. “I didn’t want you to leave town without asking you about it.”
“Who said I’m leaving town?”
I stare, tongue-tied, remembering Robert was the one who told me he was leaving today. I want to stick my fist into my mouth to shut myself up. “I… well… I heard it from a friend at the Four Seasons.” A nervous laugh leaves me.
“Have you been checking up on me, Sara?” The shock on Ian’s face turns to amusement. He’s taunting me. The devil.
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m not leaving anytime soon, Sara.” Shaking his head, he studies me with his gleaming gaze for an extra few beats. “I’ll be staying in my new place.”
Confused, I watch as Ian watches me back.
God, I’m slow.
My mouth hangs open.
This is his new place?
“Do you like that I’m staying, Sara?”
The sexual tension intensifies as we eye each other in the empty room.
My body is on high alert from his nearness.
His eyes roam over me, a little shuttered, a lot dark.
I don’t want to get myself into trouble or in a position where the first guy I actually react to breaks my heart. But God. Ian Ford. Dirty Workaholic. Hot as the hottest man on the planet. The interest in his eyes is turning my knees to mush.
I evade for a moment. “So you’ll be staying here?” I glance around the townhome.
“As of today. I just closed.”
“Well, if you had told me, I would have brought wine. Show me around,” I demand, trying to shake the lust out of my veins.
I feel happy, truly happy for him to be getting a new start. He deserves it.
“I’ve got the wine covered.” He pulls out a bottle from the fridge, and I’m ecstatic to see he even bought two crystal wineglasses.
Did he plan to bring me here all along?
I watch him pour the wine, and once we’ve both got ours, I raise my glass.
“To your new place, Ian. May you find happiness here.”
“And to your future dancing gigs.”
I chuckle softly and take a sip, aware of Ian watching me over the rim of his glass. “You’ve got real talent, Sara. I was certain I was watching something holy as you danced for me.”
“You’re pulling my leg.”
“I’m not pulling anything.” He tugs on my hair gently, teasingly, and I feel a little giddy again. “You still want that tour?”
“Of course. I love looking at homes.”
He leads me around the kitchen and through the dining room. I have two whole glasses of wine nearly back to back while we tour the first floor, using the liquid to quell my sudden hunger. We haven’t had dinner, and I’m usually fed and in bed by this hour.
Then Ian takes me upstairs, and I’m on my third glass and on an empty stomach. There’s a guest bedroom with a fireplace and a TV room with lots of empty bookcases. Finally, we reach the master bedroom at the end of the hall. He pushes the door open, and I peer inside.
There is dark wood throughout, a stone fireplace, huge windows, and…
“You have a bed.”
“A mattress. On the floor.” He chuckles and sips from his wine as I survey it.
“You really haven’t gone out with anyone in a while, have you? How long were you married?”
“Enough that I’m rusty.” He winks, but I’m not sure that he’s rusty. He’s naturally attractive. Hell, this guy can attract women by standing still, by just being him. Sighing as I admire his new bedroom, I lean back against his chest, and he strokes a hand up my arm.
Shivers dance up my spine, and I bite back a groan as I close my eyes, dizzy from both the wine and him.
He frowns as he peers down at my profile. “Are you drunk?” He eyes me as if determining something important.
“No. I promise. I just had a lot to drink and very little to eat.” I answer casually, but I wonder why it matters. “Why?” I demand.
“I want you with all five senses.” His voice is rich and thick and lulling.
“For the record, I’ve got six, and they’re all working on all five cylinders. And don’t assume just because it’s been an enjoyable evening that you’re getting any yet.” I scowl. “I’m easy with you, but I like to keep the mystery, so don’t think I’ll always be easy.”
“Trust me. I’m not counting my blessings just yet.” He’s laughing at me with his eyes, letting me stand on my own two feet.
I turn around and my toes curl over the smoldering look in his eyes. At first, when he sent the tickets, I sort of thought he just wanted to go out for us to get to know each other. I wasn’t sure he intended to get sexual tonight. But now I’m nearly sure I read him wrong. Or maybe told the safer side of Sara that nothing would go down even when my inner slut has been wanting this from the start.
“I couldn’t make her happy.”
“That’s impossible,” I whisper.
“Trust me, it’s possible.” He lets me go and sets me on my feet, coming to his feet, too. He drags a hand across the back of his neck, then sighs and plunges his hands into his pockets. “Apparently I worked more than I paid attention to her.” He shrugs, his jaw squaring as he stares out the window. “Somewhere along the way I fell out of love with her—and she with me. I caught her with my accountant.”
“Oh my God, that’s awful!” I’m instantly shuddering on his behalf, disgusted that his wife could do this to him.
“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck again before dropping his arm at his side and fisting his other hand. “I’ve been angry for a long time.”
Again, eye contact. A swift shadow of anger overcoming me.
“I’m sorry, Ian.”
“I am too. I don’t wish this on anyone.” Our eyes keep holding. “But I’m glad I walked in on them. I could’ve lived years settling for a half-assed marriage, not knowing my wife was sleeping around on me. If there’s one thing I don’t tolerate it’s being made a fool of.”
“The betrayal must have hurt.”
“It hurt just like every other disappointment hurts.”
He undoes the buttons at his cuffs and rolls his sleeves to his elbows, frowning. He has a fiery, angry look about him that’s unfamiliar to me, and it makes me want to walk over and offer him comfort.
I can’t imagine what being betrayed by the one you love and vowed to spend your whole life with feels like. I know that seeing my parents go through something similar has been devastating. Especially because neither my mother nor I saw it coming. And so the betrayal feels even worse.
I notice how my mother cannot help but wonder what she did wrong. I have done the same. Even thinking that it’s my fault, somehow, that Dad no longer loves her.
It cannot be that different for Ian.
Exhaling in almost relief, I realize now that the situation is cleaner than I imagined it could be. Ian wasn’t the instigator of the divorce; he was the victim here. I want to walk up to him and hug him, but a part of me still holds back because I don’t know that I want to get involved with a guy going through something like this. Divorces are messy procedures, and you can’t be sure of how things are going to go until it’s all signed and really over.
“Thank you for telling me.” I hesitate before I gather the courage to take a few steps closer to him. “I didn’t want you to leave town without asking you about it.”
“Who said I’m leaving town?”
I stare, tongue-tied, remembering Robert was the one who told me he was leaving today. I want to stick my fist into my mouth to shut myself up. “I… well… I heard it from a friend at the Four Seasons.” A nervous laugh leaves me.
“Have you been checking up on me, Sara?” The shock on Ian’s face turns to amusement. He’s taunting me. The devil.
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m not leaving anytime soon, Sara.” Shaking his head, he studies me with his gleaming gaze for an extra few beats. “I’ll be staying in my new place.”
Confused, I watch as Ian watches me back.
God, I’m slow.
My mouth hangs open.
This is his new place?
“Do you like that I’m staying, Sara?”
The sexual tension intensifies as we eye each other in the empty room.
My body is on high alert from his nearness.
His eyes roam over me, a little shuttered, a lot dark.
I don’t want to get myself into trouble or in a position where the first guy I actually react to breaks my heart. But God. Ian Ford. Dirty Workaholic. Hot as the hottest man on the planet. The interest in his eyes is turning my knees to mush.
I evade for a moment. “So you’ll be staying here?” I glance around the townhome.
“As of today. I just closed.”
“Well, if you had told me, I would have brought wine. Show me around,” I demand, trying to shake the lust out of my veins.
I feel happy, truly happy for him to be getting a new start. He deserves it.
“I’ve got the wine covered.” He pulls out a bottle from the fridge, and I’m ecstatic to see he even bought two crystal wineglasses.
Did he plan to bring me here all along?
I watch him pour the wine, and once we’ve both got ours, I raise my glass.
“To your new place, Ian. May you find happiness here.”
“And to your future dancing gigs.”
I chuckle softly and take a sip, aware of Ian watching me over the rim of his glass. “You’ve got real talent, Sara. I was certain I was watching something holy as you danced for me.”
“You’re pulling my leg.”
“I’m not pulling anything.” He tugs on my hair gently, teasingly, and I feel a little giddy again. “You still want that tour?”
“Of course. I love looking at homes.”
He leads me around the kitchen and through the dining room. I have two whole glasses of wine nearly back to back while we tour the first floor, using the liquid to quell my sudden hunger. We haven’t had dinner, and I’m usually fed and in bed by this hour.
Then Ian takes me upstairs, and I’m on my third glass and on an empty stomach. There’s a guest bedroom with a fireplace and a TV room with lots of empty bookcases. Finally, we reach the master bedroom at the end of the hall. He pushes the door open, and I peer inside.
There is dark wood throughout, a stone fireplace, huge windows, and…
“You have a bed.”
“A mattress. On the floor.” He chuckles and sips from his wine as I survey it.
“You really haven’t gone out with anyone in a while, have you? How long were you married?”
“Enough that I’m rusty.” He winks, but I’m not sure that he’s rusty. He’s naturally attractive. Hell, this guy can attract women by standing still, by just being him. Sighing as I admire his new bedroom, I lean back against his chest, and he strokes a hand up my arm.
Shivers dance up my spine, and I bite back a groan as I close my eyes, dizzy from both the wine and him.
He frowns as he peers down at my profile. “Are you drunk?” He eyes me as if determining something important.
“No. I promise. I just had a lot to drink and very little to eat.” I answer casually, but I wonder why it matters. “Why?” I demand.
“I want you with all five senses.” His voice is rich and thick and lulling.
“For the record, I’ve got six, and they’re all working on all five cylinders. And don’t assume just because it’s been an enjoyable evening that you’re getting any yet.” I scowl. “I’m easy with you, but I like to keep the mystery, so don’t think I’ll always be easy.”
“Trust me. I’m not counting my blessings just yet.” He’s laughing at me with his eyes, letting me stand on my own two feet.
I turn around and my toes curl over the smoldering look in his eyes. At first, when he sent the tickets, I sort of thought he just wanted to go out for us to get to know each other. I wasn’t sure he intended to get sexual tonight. But now I’m nearly sure I read him wrong. Or maybe told the safer side of Sara that nothing would go down even when my inner slut has been wanting this from the start.
