Table Eleven

ELNORA

Elnora leaned into the kiss. His lips melted into hers, soft molten drops of fire sizzling with pleasure. Her hands wandered over his chest, slipping beneath his jacket to feel his rock-hard muscles through his white shirt.

Moaning, she grabbed his jacket and reeled him closer, demanding more as her tongue touched his.

Slowly, his fingers brushed gently over her body, and Elnora buckled as they traced up her back, slipping into the mass of her voluminous hair.

Her hunger grew insatiable, and Elnora slipped her arms around his shoulders, feasting on his lips like a blood-hungry hound.

Against the restraint of her body-con dress, she wiggled in an unsuccessful attempt to straddle him. At least that would help to keep her in line.

The limo screeched to a stop, forcing them away from each other. Mason pulled away from her with a reluctant scowl, then leaned back into the chair and pushed the intercom.

“Hector?” he called.

“Mr. Dimitri, there’s a situation at the gate,” the chauffeur replied with a stutter.

With a deep breath, Elnora ran her fingers through her hair, then held them against her lips.

“I’ll be right there.” Mason glanced her way and her cheeks burned when their eyes met. He stepped out of the vehicle, and she heaved a sigh.

Elnora plopped against the rear of the seat, twirling her hair with a wide grin. He was forbidden fruit, and, against her better judgment, she desperately wanted to eat him up—but Marcy was a rather annoying voice of reason.

That inscrutable Marcy had been stuck to her side since the first year of college. An outdoorsy socialite she could never shake off.

It served their company well, for while Marcy did the PR, Elnora did the grunt of the data mining and pen testing.

As the limo continued on its way, Elnora leaned closer to peek out the window. Mason stood in the company of two men in front of a luxurious estate.

Her mind raced, trying to recall what Marcy had told her Mason did for work. She rolled the window down and gaped at the mansion.

The limo rolled up outside a grand entrance, around a fountain, and the car door was pulled open. An armed guard assisted her out, and Elnora swallowed against the dread gnawing at her insides.

More than ever, the desire to know what he did for work attacked Elnora as she glanced around the white castle held up by large intricate columns.

Then she noticed the suited armed men climb out of two Escalades that sandwiched the limo.

Why would he need armed escorts or guards in his residence? Better yet, what the hell did he need such an enormous mansion for?

“This way, miss.” The guard waved her toward the entrance.

Elnora glanced toward the gate, but saw Mason was not there anymore. With a hard swallow, she turned to the house, and the guard fell in place behind her.

She’d called it—one of these blind dates would end with her getting chained in a dungeon.

Marcy!

She’d probably sold her off to Mason and was having a hard laugh about it with her geek of a fiancé.

The guards closer to the door stepped in front of her, leading her into the magnificent monochrome mansion. Inside was a classically elegant interior, with lovely, minimalist red accents that flowed into each other.

Despite not knowing Mason very well, she could tell this was exactly his style.

When Elnora reached the parlor, the guards left her alone, and she clenched her little gold purse containing just her iPhone.

For a moment, she stood assessing everything before she tucked herself into a corner of the black leather couch.

She was a damn good pen tester, among other things, yet she did not own a house as absurd as this. Who was Mason?

“Mr. Dimitri,” she whispered under her breath. There was something familiar about that name. She would look into it once she was safely back at her condo.

“Elnora.”

With a gasp she turned to him. “You scared me.”

“It was not my intent,” he stated, walking into the living room. “I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?”

In adjusting her decorum, Elnora crossed her legs and shook her hair out of her face. Of course he’d kept her waiting, but he wasn’t one to apologize for his actions.

“What is it that you do for work?”

His lips lopsidedly tilted in a smile, and she swallowed against the whirlwind of emotion as she remembered the thirst-quenching kiss.

“I work.” Mason went to the couch adjacent to her and dropped into it. “Why concern yourself with that? Is it the house?”

House? Her penthouse was a house; this was a castle. Elnora narrowed her eyes at him. It was clear that Marcy had a type when it came to the men she set her up with; they were arrogant men with a God complex.

“Yeah, let’s call it a house,” she emphasized.

Laughing, Mason leaned back into the couch, and, for a moment, they just gawked at each other.

Elnora wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to his offer to head out if she wasn’t looking to turn this into a fling. He wasn’t a relationship guy. That was clear in those searing green orbs of his.

“So, are you going to tell me what you do, or do I have to find out myself?”

“Knock yourself out.”

There was a glow in his eyes that dared her, making her shrug her shoulders. She knew it wouldn’t take longer than five minutes to find out everything she wanted to learn about him—it was what she did.

“You will get burned, Mr. Dimitri. I always find what I’m looking for.” She smiled a little.

Mason rose and walked around the crafted black coffee table in the center of the room. He lowered to the space beside her, and she swiveled to eye him.

“I’m curious.” He spoke quickly. “What are you doing with Ricario, Elnora? It’s been gnawing at me since the club.”

Ricario? What was he talking about? Did Marcy tell him something about her? Oh, that damn friend of hers!

Elnora pulled back from his overwhelming presence, but he took her arm and pulled her closer with a wistful smile.

“I understand if you’d rather not speak of it. Did I offend you?” he asked, his tone playful. His arm wrapped around Elnora’s waist and held her steady against her attempt to slip away.

“What did Marcy tell you about me?”

As Mason’s eyes narrowed at her, she drank in the beauty of his green eyes. She’d never seen such vibrant hues, sparkling like he could see through to her soul.

Her gaze dropped to his lips, making her stomach clench as she caught herself yearning for another kiss.

“Do I get to see the DB4 you were fawning over?” she whispered in a frayed attempt to think of something else. “You did fawn over it at the club.”

Mason rose with a chuckle and walked toward the detached parlor at the far end of the room, and Elnora watched him.

Who was Ricario? She doubted he would tell her anything to clarify that, so she shrugged it off. Perhaps it was best to call this a night.

“What’s your poison?” his voice boomed to her from across the room.

“Something hard and bitter.”

His low groan was followed by Elnora’s purse buzzing. Almost immediately, Elnora pulled her cell phone out of her purse and took a look at the screen.

Marcy’s frantic all-caps message sent Elnora’s heart pounding, then her eyes flew to Mason.

“So.” Mason came back to her, offering one of the glasses to her. “Who’s Marcy?”