Fighting Seduction (6 page)

“You’re talking like you’re dead. We can totally
just hang out with some Bud Light, pepperoni pizza and Netflix at my apartment
one night if you like.” I laughed out loud at the thought of him coming to my
apartment. Yeah, that was totally going to happen. It was polite to ask, still.

“What is that? Some kind of recording device?”

I stared at him in utter confusion for almost a
whole minute before it hit me and I burst into a full-blown laughter. Zayden
Sinclair, CEO of the entire South National Bank empire, was asking me if
Netflix was some kind of a recording device. What planet did he live on?

“It’s,” I started out to explain but felt another
fit of giggles coming on, which I quickly turned into a cough because he began
looking somewhat offended.

“It’s this website that stores hundreds of thousands
of movies and T.V. shows, and you pay like 10 bucks a month to be able to
stream all their content online.”

He twisted his mouth in a comical fashion. “I’m just
joking Aria,” he laughed. “I’d rather just purchase all of the movies and shows
though.”

Well, he gave me a good laugh anyway.

“It would probably cost over a million dollars to
try and purchase every title that’s on Netflix though,” I said, trying not to
roll my eyes. “It’s just a cheap way to find entertainment for regular people
like me.”

“I see,” he frowned, clearly not liking the concept
and purpose of Netflix.

He was rich, so buying a Netflix subscription wasn’t
something he would understand.

I raised my champagne glass to change the subject.
“What are we drinking to?”

“To digital innovation,” he said, deadpan.

“Ha, ha,” I said, not laughing.

“Seriously though, to these next six months,” he
said, clinking his glass to mine.

I sipped the bubbly drink and it tasted like a
mixture of white wine and orange soda, something that sounds gross on principle
but my god was it delicious. I closed my eyes letting the sweet, fizzy taste
sink into my taste buds. This was why everyone made such a big deal about
champagne.

“You like it then?” Zayden asked with a hint of
satisfaction in his voice.

“It’s a step above Bud Light for sure,” I smiled at
him, and took another huge gulp.

“That’s a shame,” he said looking at the butler.
“You went through so much trouble locating the perfect bottle for no reason,
Mark. Her standards are at Bud Light—you could have picked up anything bubbly
from CVS next door and it would have served nicely.”

“Noted for next time,” Mark joked back.

There was something inherently pleasant about the
way Zayden was so relaxed and friendly with his staff. Aren’t men like him
supposed to be complete dickheads?

“To both of your disappointment, I now am spoiled to
be partial to nothing but the best,” I said sipping some more of the goodness.

“Time for appetizers,” Mark said, removing the lid
from one of the silver containers to reveal succulent looking sushi rolls.
“Spicy tuna rolls. Sean had the fish transported from Japan only a few hours
ago. It was practically fished this morning, so I hope it’s fresh enough.”

I felt a rush of excitement flood through my veins.
Spicy tuna rolls were among my absolute favorite foods. What were the chances?

“Nah, I am sure it can’t beat the 5 dollar rolls
from China Garden across the street that I’m used to,” I said, trying to sound
nonchalant, even though I was dying to taste one.

When I did, I could just about cry with happiness.
Perfectly soft, slightly crunchy and so, so spicy. I let out an involuntary
moan.

“Tasty?” Zayden asked, looking delighted by my
reaction. “I’ll stick to plain old California rolls. I’m the victim of mundane
taste buds.”

“Suit yourself,” I said between mouthfuls. It made
little sense, though. Why would he ask his chef to make spicy tuna rolls if he
couldn’t handle some spice? I couldn’t be too bothered about it, however, as I
was too busy putting one sushi roll after another into my mouth. I had already
gobbled up an entire portion in less than five minutes. I probably looked like
an uncivilized moron. Just one more…

I had sufficiently devoured two whole portions, when
I heard Zayden, “I will take it from here for the entrees, Mark. Thanks for
your help tonight.”

He handed him what looked like five 100 dollar bills
and added, “Share it with the guys and thank them for me.”

Mark took the cash looking completely un-phased, as
though this was a daily occurrence. It probably was.

When Mark left with the remaining appetizers, there
was an awkward silence for a few minutes, and I almost wished I had another
sushi roll there just to keep myself occupied. Zayden was looking at me
straight in the eyes, not a single expression on his face. Should I say
something?

“Is that a push-up bra?”

What? The question was so random and bizarre, I
couldn’t help but snicker.

“I don’t have to answer that question,” I said
pouting.

“Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry, as his eyes were now
fixated on my breasts. “I am just a little distracted.”

His seductive ways weren’t going to stop.

“Let’s see what’s for dinner,” I tried changing the
subject and lifted off the lids of a couple of silver containers. What the
hell? The sushi could maybe just be a coincidence but there was no way that
this entire dinner accidentally constituted of my absolute favorite dishes. The
aroma of rich Indian spices filled the room and one small container was
specifically reserved for spicy peppers.

“You don’t look happy,” Zayden said, looking
concerned.

“No, no!” I widened my eyes. “I’m just… really
surprised. I adore Indian food, and spicy peppers, and spicy anything. And you
said you couldn’t even handle the sushi so how come-”

“I called your emergency contact, some Ms. Stacey
Pace this morning, asking about your dietary preference.”

“You didn’t!” I exclaimed, feeling a mixture of
amazement and slight annoyance at Stacey. She could have told me. Whose side
was she on, anyway?

“I hope you enjoy dinner,” he said, looking
extremely pleased with himself.

I enjoyed dinner, all right. Very, very reluctantly,
I enjoyed the best Indian food I had ever tasted, wanting to laugh and cry and
hug him all at once.

“Dessert?” he asked after we ate.

“I think we have exhausted my capacity to eat for
tonight,” I said, sounding more regretful about not having space for dessert
than I intended to. “Thank you though. This was truly fantastic. You didn’t
have to go above and beyond, you know.”

“It was nothing,” he shrugged. “Really. I didn’t
have to do anything.”

He was grinning. Right. He had help. Ugh. I felt
stupid. He probably did this for every girl he tried to seduce. I had made
myself sound more important than I actually was.

“I know, but I am still grateful that you took the
time to learn what I liked. You’re helping me out with this whole contract
thing a lot more than I’m doing anything for you already. Don’t feel like you
need to put in any effort at all, even if it’s only making a few phone calls on
your part. Honestly, I would have been happy just hanging out and talking,
maybe asking you for some help with an Economics paper…”

I didn’t mean to say that last part out so casually.
Shit. I didn’t dare meet his eyes. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry… I meant like, if
you were interested and had nothing better to do, I could entertain you with
some amateur Macroeconomics.”

When I finally looked at him, his eyes were shining,
with a tiny hint of a smile on his lips. “Macroeconomics, huh? What is your
paper on?”

“The economic benefits of progressive taxation,” I
said, my eyes planted on the silverware in front of me.

“Isn’t that a little left of center for college
economics?” He sounded genuinely interested. “When I was in college they taught
us to be a lot more conservative.”

“Well, that’s the thing.” I was finally able to look
at him without flinching again. “My professor is a hardcore Republican who
doesn’t believe any good could come out of taxing the rich. He accused me of
being a dirty communist. So I am writing this paper to prove him wrong.”

“People don’t easily change their long-standing
political opinions, Aria. You are probably taking a risk challenging him like
that since he decides your grades.”

“He can’t fail me for disagreeing with me, and this
paper is my one chance to show him that his way isn’t the only way.”

“Saving the world, one Econ professor at a time?” he
laughed.

“Fine, you don’t really have to help me. I just
thought it would be a fun thing to do if we are going to spend so much time
together. But this is your contract, we do whatever you want on your time.”

Dinner had been so nice and relaxed; I had almost
forgotten why I was there. We weren’t just two people hanging out and getting
to know each other, he was
paying
me
to do this. We weren’t friends. We weren’t anything. I was his employee. Why
did I ever think he would be interested in my stupid – I jumped as I felt his
hand over mine. Suddenly, without any warning, my mind went completely blank
and I felt a jolt of electricity run through my veins. His hands were strong
but tender, his long, slender fingers completely engulfing mine. He was
twiddling his thumb against mine and I felt a sensation in a place that had no
right to react to what was happening. I couldn’t remember what I was thinking
about or what we were talking about. All I knew was that I wished that my body
didn’t react to his touch the way it did. I squeaked involuntarily and pulled
my hand away gently.

What the hell was that? Once more, I had trouble
looking him in the eye. This time for completely different reasons.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he
finally said, “I’ll help you with your paper. Every night after dinner we will
work on it together. Okay?”

When I met his bright blue eyes again, he was
flashing me a genuine smile and my heartbeat picked up. How embarrassing. Snap
out of it, woman! Agreeing to help me with homework was just one of many tricks
in his big game plan of getting my clothes off, just like organizing a custom
dinner with my favorite dishes. He wasn’t interested in my food choices or my
paper or my world views or my economics professor. I would be an idiot to let
myself believe otherwise. He had made no attempt to hide his motives behind
this entire set-up, and if I let myself get confused into thinking he actually
cared about me, only I would be to blame when I got hurt in the end. Staying
grounded through these six months seemed like a harder task right now than it
ever had before, but I had to be strong and take this for what it was to him: a
game.

“Thank you,” I said, trying not to betray my train
of thought.

“And one of these days,” he added. “I would be happy
to come to your apartment for some pizza and Bud Light. We can do the Netflix
thing as well if it makes you feel normal.”

“All right.”

---

When I finally got home that night, however, I
started panicking. Zayden Sinclair, in my house? The living room floor was
covered in magazines, and Stacey and Nick would scrutinize him to no end, and
our T.V. was not even a flat screen. The couch was fifty-years-old, a gift from
Nick’s now deceased grandmother. Maybe I could get him to change his mind…

As I covered myself with blankets, my thoughts
drifted away from the apartment to that moment during dinner when his thumb was
rubbing against mine. Laden with desire, I softly rubbed my fingers against
each other. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I could not let him have this
kind of an effect on me. This was exactly what he was trying to accomplish, and
I knew better than to let him have what he wanted. With the firm decision to
actively block any compromising thoughts of him, I closed my eyes.

That didn’t stop me from dreaming compromising
dreams all night, though.

CHAPTER
6

ZAYDEN

I was surprised by Aria’s progress on her paper so
far. Over the past few years running the company, I had grown cynical of women,
and the thought of them as intellectual beings had not crossed my mind since my
MBA days. It probably had to do with not working with many smart ones. But man,
this girl was bright. Had I not been dallying with her with the intention of
getting into her pants, I might even have offered her a long-term analyst
position at the bank. She would crawl up the ranks quickly with her
out-of-the-box thinking and passionate articulations of ideas on the impact of
individual economic status on large-scale growth of a national economy.
Unfortunately, some other institution would be lucky to have her as an asset,
since I had already decided on utilizing a whole different set of her talents;
hopefully she had those talents, even though she was a virgin. Oh, who was I
kidding, I was going to enjoy every minute of it even if she just lay there
like a rock. Getting her to lay down next to me was going to be the hardest
part.