Nights In Black Leather. Noelle Mack

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СКАЧАТЬ now. She was expected and the great and powerful Adam Bowlin was waiting for her. She could bet a hedge fund king never experienced a footwear emergency. His shoes were undoubtedly handmade in Italy and as highly polished as these goddamn slippery floors. His underlings probably licked the soles clean each morning even before they fetched his coffee.

      Scoot-flap-click, scoot-flap-click. Eventually she got to the elevators. There were six in all. The closed doors were silvery steel, trimmed with burnished brass. Massive. Forbidding. Like the doors of six impenetrable vaults.

      One set whooshed open and someone walked out as she was looking down worriedly at her stupid high heels. She should have dressed like the clueless American tourist everyone here thought she was and worn her ugly sneakers. At least the soles of those were still firmly attached to the—

      A pair of long, large black shoes stopped in front of her. Man shoes. Impeccably tailored trousers broke over the insteps.

      Lara did not want to look up. Maybe he would take her downward gaze as a sign of humbleness. Or abject insanity. Apparently not. The shoes didn’t move on.

      Whoever the man was, he wasn’t going to pay much attention to her, not the way she was dressed. Bargain-basement fake tweed. Head still hanging, she regretted the whimsical pin on her lapel, a last-minute addition, deeply regretted it. He was wearing a Savile Row suit himself, unless she missed her guess.

      His voice was deep and sensual. “You must be Lara Stone. I’m Adam Bowlin.”

      Hell.

      She looked at him with wide, startled eyes. The last thing she’d expected was for him to come down to the lobby. Must be a coincidence. He was probably just going out for a quick bite, taking a break from making millions, which she understood was tiring.

      “Maybe you’re not Lara Stone.”

      “Oh no. I mean, yes. I am her.” You sound like an idiot, she told herself. Way to go, Lara.

      “Glad to hear it. How very nice to meet you.”

      She forced herself to remain calm while she took him in, trying not to stare at the big hands thrust casually into his pants pockets and the long waist that widened into a broad chest—

      He was wearing clothes worth looking at, fortunately for her sanity. She concentrated on those. Guys in finance prided themselves on sartorial splendor and she was familiar with the details of it.

      Adam’s attire was subtle by American standards, but amazing all the same. Bespoke shirt. Turnbull & Asser, by her guess. A snow-white collar and double cuffs set off its understated hue. Nestled between the collar’s hand-turned points was a Windsor-knotted silk tie that had probably cost more than she made in a month.

      Nice tie. And under the shirt—what the hell, she went back to mentally undressing him—was a very nice broad chest and shoulders to match. And his face. Wow. Eminently smoochable.

      Adam Bowlin was a work of art. Tall, tailored man art. Incredibly sexy. In no way did he seem stiff-upper-lippy or teddibly reserved. He had a powerful take-charge, ultra-masculine vibe that made her quiver inside. If he only ever said one word to her and that word was surrender, she wouldn’t have a problem with that.

      His big, blazing smile was as warm as his voice. If he hadn’t said who he was, she might not have figured it out right away, even though Jason had ordered her to look him up online. The images on Google didn’t do him justice. Who knew? The internationally renowned founder and manager of a hedge fund so exclusive that he turned away investors with less than five zillion was hot. Scorchingly so.

      Adam thrust out his hand and she took it for a good old American shakity-shake, loving the feel of his strong fingers clasping hers despite her embarrassment.

      That smile was extremely effective. A panty-melting, braunhooking, throw-me-down weapon. Lara squirmed and sweated inside her inexpensive suit, wishing she could rip it off and kick her cheapo high heels up in the air—and run out to have her hair straightened before she launched an all-out seduction.

      Unless he launched one first. It could happen. She took a step toward and felt her sole flap.

      Maybe not today. She met his gaze and smiled.

      His eyes were hazel, and his lashes were thick. A dimple flashed as his smile widened. But everything else was on the strong and angular side of handsome.

      “I decided to pop down to meet you,” he said genially. “It’s a bit of a maze once you’re on the upper floor. Thought I’d lead the way.”

      “Please do,” she chirped, thrilled that he had. She would have expected him to send a shoe licker to do that.

      “I was chatting with our receptionist and saw you on the security video.” His eyes flicked over her with obvious admiration.

      “Oh.”

      He must have liked what he saw. Then and now. Lara blushed. Then she got to work trying to place his accent. Not totally British, really not American. Adam continued making small talk, and she wasn’t quite bold enough to come right out and ask. He waved to the guard, who’d glided their way from the lobby console.

      “Anything the matter, Mr. Bowlin?”

      The guard’s lips still didn’t move, but his expression seemed a little more animated. Maybe it was just the ultra-modern lights overhead reflected in his beady eyes. Lifelike effect, Lara thought with an inward smile.

      “Not at all. Thanks.”

      The guard said something incomprehensible and nodded to Lara before going back to his post.

      “Shall we?” Adam pressed the up button.

      “Sure.” They waited until a different set of doors whooshed open and she took a step and swore under her breath. She’d forgotten about the half-sole. It flapped. He noticed.

      “D’you want to have that fixed? There’s a cobbler not a block away,” Adam said in a friendly way, letting the doors close while he waited for her to reply. “I don’t mind waiting. In fact, I’ll walk you there.”

      Aww. He was nice, too. “That’s okay. I can manage.”

      “Sure?”

      “Of course.”

      “Up we go then.”

      When they got on the next elevator, the half-sole came off.

      “Oops.” She looked at it and at him and at it again. The small piece of rubber on the elevator floor looked like a dead cartoon mouse that had been run over by a cartoon steamroller. She bent down to pick it up and stuck it into the outer pocket of her purse.

      He only grinned, not seeming to think it was some big deal that her clothes and shoes weren’t perfect. Outside of a nebulous feeling of lust-crazed worship, Lara realized that she liked him already. A lot.

      Just being in the elevator with him made her skin tingle. He stood to her right, not too close and not against the wall. Just there. It was easy, so easy, to imagine him completely naked.

      The elevator stopped with a jolt.

      Adam СКАЧАТЬ