The maid's wiry figure disappeared down a hall to the left, and Ariana crossed from the foyer into the beautiful sitting room she had indicated.

No, beautiful was the wrong word, Ariana thought. More like exquisite, in a masculine sort of way. The floors were a deeply varnished wood, so dark they were almost red. Antique Persian rugs covered much of them, and Ariana speculated that just the few she could see must have cost a fortune. Especially the one in the center. It depicted scenes of what looked like a stormy romance. Ariana stepped in to get a closer look.

A footstep clicked on the floor behind her, and she turned to discover herself staring into a rock-solid chest.

"Do you like it?"

Ariana looked up and drew in a breath. Ash. "Oh, yes," she breathed, hoping the double entendre wasn't too obvious.

Ash smiled down at her and graciously touched her elbow, turning her around. He was still very close. Leaning forward, he pointed toward the interplay of colors on the rug. "King Herod ordered the women of his court to create this rug to tell the story of Samson and Delilah. Herod and Samson came from the same region, and Herod fancied himself a similar romantic warrior."

Clearly it was even older than Ariana had imagined. She turned to face him again. "And how did you come by it?" she asked.

Ash smiled. "Oh, let's just say I took it off the hands of someone who didn't fully appreciate it."

She couldn't help smiling back, though her thoughts were otherwise. For heaven's sake, the rug was priceless, and he just kept it lying around on the living room floor. Suddenly she realized the obvious. "I suppose it caught your eye because he's your namesake?"

Ash looked confused for a moment. "What? Oh, that's right. The family name." He smiled rakishly at her once more. "Actually, I bought it because of her."

"Her?" she asked, not quite catching his meaning.

Ash nodded toward the rug, and Ariana turned again to look at it. The scene at their feet showed a woman alone in a courtyard.

Ariana studied her. She was a dark beauty, indeed. The legendary Delilah. Ariana smiled and looked back over her shoulder at Ash. "So she's your secret love?"

His broad smile faded. "Something like that."

Ariana moved farther around the rug. It truly was a work of art. Elaborate scenes of love, betrayal, murder, and retribution flowed masterfully from one into the next. Only... Ariana moved around the rug to examine the final scene more closely.

Every other scene seemed to match the Biblical version of the story, at least as well as Ariana could recall it. Samson saw Delilah, wanted her, and she allowed him into her bed. Delilah eventually coaxed him into telling her that his hair was the secret of his great strength, and then she betrayed him.

Samson was taken prisoner, and in the final hour, asked G.o.d for the strength for one last act of retribution. G.o.d restored his strength, and Samson pulled down the pillars that supported the temple, burying himself and his captors.

But the story on the rug went one scene further. It showed Samson climbing from the rubble.

"I thought Samson died at the end of this story?"

Ash shrugged. "Maybe the women of the court just wanted a happy ending," he suggested. "Isn't that what women are supposed to want?"

Ariana raised an eyebrow at him over the expanse of rug. "I would have thought you had a pretty good read on what women want." That wasn't what she had intended to say at all.

Now it was Ash's turn to raise a brow. "Careful, I might take that as a compliment."

"Well," she pointed out, "Roger didn't seem able to keep up with you. Not even for one night."

Ash laughed and smiled in a way he clearly intended to be sheepish, but humility, Ariana noticed, didn't sit comfortably on him. "I must confess that I don't go out like that every night, but last night, there was much to celebrate." His eyes focused on her more intently.

"You mean the deal with Roger?"

"Of course. Roger is a genius, and he tells me you aren't far behind. It will be a great pleasure to watch you work."

A bell tinkled somewhere in the distance, and Ash stepped back from the rug.

"Dinner is apparently served," he said, motioning for her to precede him through a door on the far side of the sitting room. "It's this way."

A series of quick turns brought them into a formal dining room. This was a rarity in New York, and Ariana was delighted to see that it was set formally and just for two. She couldn't say why, but having to share Ash with strangers making small talk would have been too much for her to bear. She wanted to get to know him.

The realization made her stop short, so that Ash almost ran into her. "Is everything all right, love?"

The casual endearment uttered in that voice of his made her skin tingle. What was it about this man that he had such sway over her after one meeting?

She suddenly realized she hadn't once thought of James since she'd arrived. A sick feeling crept into the pit of her stomach and lodged itself there like underdone hamburger. She walked farther into the room without turning back to explain.

Ash followed and pulled out a chair at one of the places for her. He took the place set to her right.

The same little maid who'd let Ariana in earlier now appeared to pour them both wine. Ariana took advantage of the interruption to get her thoughts in order and give herself another lecture on keeping business separate from pleasure. She was determined to get the discussion back into safer territory. "So tell me more about your plans," she invited. "Roger gave me the bare bones, but that was about it."

"Well," Ash took a sip of his wine, "over the years, my financial house has been allowed to get a little too diversified. I have investments in projects of all sizes, all over the world. I want to consolidate the management of at least a portion of my a.s.sets, and I want to do it with Tailwind Investments, with you and Roger."

"And you think I need to come to London to a.s.sist in executing the transition?"

"Not a.s.sist, Ariana." Ash's tone was newly serious and careful. "You, a.s.suming you come, will have complete control of the process. My London advisers will take direction from you."

He seemed to want her pretty badly. "Who are they?" she asked.

Ash shrugged. "A couple of suits I hired away from Goldman Sachs to work full-time for me and a couple of others."

"Won't they be reluctant to work with me since I'm essentially going to be taking away part of their job?"

Ash shook his head as he spoke. "I don't think so. They are already overworked. Plus, they know they don't have the expertise you and Roger bring to the table."

Ash paused while the maid placed salads in front of them. "Thank you, Nancy," he said, quickly turning his attention back to Ariana. "My lead adviser, Justin, and I have discussed this at some length, actually, and he's one hundred percent on board."

Ariana opened her mouth and started to speak, but thought better of it. Even if she could come up with a hundred good objections, they didn't really matter. Roger was counting on her to make this work, and make it work was exactly what she would do.

"This will be good for your career, Ariana," Ash said, surprising her. "You've achieved much in a very short time. I would never ask you to do anything to jeopardize your professional future."

"Thank you." Ariana turned her attention to her salad, not knowing what else to say. Sensitivity to her career aspirations was an unexpected development.

Soon salad was replaced by grilled wild salmon on a bed of vegetable couscous.

"You know, Ariana," Ash said, setting aside his perfectly weighted silver fork, "other than your resume and your successful management of my money to date, I don't know much about you."

Though she found his impersonal tone comforting, a smidgen of dread crept into the pit of her stomach, marring her enjoyment of the perfectly cooked fish. It's a completely legitimate question, she told herself. No need to read anything too personal into it.

Ariana smiled brightly. "What more do you need to know?"

Ash half returned her smile, but his gaze was piercing. "Everything."

Spending time with this man was definitely going to be bad for her digestion, she thought. "Everything isn't really that much, I'm afraid."

Ash looked skeptical, forcing her to continue. "I went to undergrad and law school at Duke, then to Stanford for an MBA. I worked in the San Francisco office of a private equity fund for a few years, and then came to New York to work at a hedge fund, which is where I met Roger. When he left to start his own fund, I went with him."

"Did you meet your husband in California?"

Ariana wasn't prepared for that question, and her bewilderment must have showed on her face.

"I'm sorry," Ash said, compa.s.sion warming his dark eyes. "Roger told me. I didn't mean to pry."

"No, no." Ariana recovered her composure. "It's all right. James and I did meet in California, while I was still in grad school. He was working for a software company in Silicon Valley." She didn't like where this conversation had strayed. "How about you?" she asked. "Is there a Mrs. Samson?"

"No. There was once, but... it didn't work out." He looked away from her, taking a long gulp of his wine Soon Nancy served dessert, and they ate in awkward silence. After the plates were cleared, Ash rose and came behind Ariana to pull out her chair. "Let's go into my study. I need to give you something." She rose, and he pushed her chair back under the table. "And I need a drink."

Ariana followed him from the dining room into a wood-paneled office. "So you'll be back in London next week?" she asked.

"That's right. I'm going back the day after tomorrow on the overnight flight." Ash strode around to the other side of his desk, picked up a manila folder and handed it to her. "I had Justin pull together some initial information for you."

Ariana resisted the temptation to open it and dig in. When it came down to it, she really did love her work.

"When would you like me to fly in?" she asked instead.

"I'd like to get things rolling as soon as possible, but I know this is short notice. When do you think you can get your plate clear here in New York?"

"Well, today is Friday." Ariana started to think out loud and turned to stare at a spot on the wall as she often did when trying to concentrate. "It will take me at least a few days to work out with Roger how my responsibilities here are going to be divided and how we want to function going forward with me in London. Plus, I'll probably need a day to tie up a few personal things since it looks like I might be away for an extended period." She turned back to Ash. "So, maybe Thursday of next week?"

Ash came around the desk and walked over to one of the panels on the side of the room and pressed a b.u.t.ton Ariana couldn't see. The panel slid silently to the side revealing a previously hidden, but well stocked, bar. Ariana heard the clinking of gla.s.sware before Ash handed her a gla.s.s half-full of caramel-colored liquid.

"Shall we?" He made a motion as if to toast, and so Ariana raised her gla.s.s.

"To the fulfillment of wishes," Ash said.

Okay, that was weird, she thought, as she touched her gla.s.s to his and took a small sip of the amber liquid. Cognac, she guessed, but she wasn't an expert on after dinner drinks. A nice chocolaty Bailey's was more her style, but this was smooth and warm; its comforting heat helped quell some of her nagging doubts.

"You'll stay at my house, of course."

So much for the quelling of doubts, Ariana thought, turning and setting her gla.s.s on the desk to cover her unease.

"I have a large manor house outside the city," Ash continued. "I'll have Justin copy all the necessary doc.u.mentation and bring it over. Then the three of us can work from there." He paused and must have seen her hesitation. "Of course, I also have a flat in the city proper that I will put at your disposal," he said, "but I think you'll be more comfortable at the house. I'll have an office set up for you there, and we'll all have plenty of room to work without getting in each other's hair-so to speak." He smiled slightly at what seemed a private joke.

There now, Ariana thought. That all sounded perfectly reasonable. In fact, Ash had been perfectly reasonable all night. No hint of the predatory s.e.x G.o.d she had glimpsed at the restaurant the night before. Maybe he had been a one-sided creation of her s.e.x-starved imagination. That would be good. She wasn't ready for real temptation.

"Sounds perfect," Ariana said, finally showing a hint of a smile. "I've never been to a manor before. If it's even half as cool as your James Bond bar service over there, I'm sure it will do just fine."

Ash laughed and moved closer to her. "It has a few surprises." His voice took on the seductive rumble she remembered. Ariana was a little surprised, but she liked the idea that he might have a wicked streak after all. She liked it so much she did something totally inappropriate. She took a step and closed the distance between them.

Then she promptly lost her nerve.

G.o.d, she was a mess, she thought as she stood there frozen, staring at the smooth skin at the collar of Ash's shirt.

His hand came up and one finger lightly lifted her chin until she allowed her eyes to meet his. And that was the real mistake, she thought. Suddenly it was as if the mask of the polite Ash she'd had dinner with fell away to reveal the man-no, what had she called him? Right, the predatory s.e.x G.o.d-inside.

Ash smiled down at her and the spell was cast. Don't stop there, angel.

She couldn't tell if he'd actually said it or if it was in her imagination like the other night, but it didn't matter. The Voice was back. She reached up and put a hand lightly on his chest.

His smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of such intense desire that Ariana almost turned away from the force of it. Almost, but not quite.

In an instant, his arms were around her, his lips came down to find hers, and Ariana was awash in the heat and motion of his lips and his fingers. She was being crushed between the two, but she didn't care. The urgency of his touch warmed her insides where they had been cold for so long. She returned his kiss with a fervor that terrified her.

Ash groaned and moved his hands lower down her back. Ariana was both relieved and alarmed to know that she wasn't the only one so affected.

One of his hands pushed its way up into her hair. He bent her head back slightly and deepened the kiss. Ariana felt suspended beneath the sensual onslaught of his mouth.

Then, suddenly, Ash pulled himself away. He still looked at her with hunger, but now there was distance between them.

Ariana was confused. Confused and more than a little ashamed of herself.

"Ariana." Ash's voice sounded as strained as she felt. "I think you should go."

Ariana turned silently to get her bag and prayed her shame wasn't visible on her face. She'd come on to a client, for G.o.d's sake! And now they might lose that client. Roger would kill her. And James... she no longer owed him her loyalty, but this still felt like betrayal.

"Ash," she turned around, prepared to make a very long and unbecoming apology.

"Don't," he whispered. "Don't apologize. I want you. I want to get this deal done. If you come to London all these things and more are possible." He handed her the folder she had laid on the desk and would have forgotten in her distraction. "I just didn't want to scare you away tonight."

His words rang true, Ariana thought, but still, she hesitated. She met Ash's gaze and was glad to see that he looked worried.

"Come to London, Ariana," he said. "I promise you won't be disappointed."

He turned and pushed a b.u.t.ton on a console on the desk. "I'm going to have Nancy see you out."

Ariana nodded, not wanting any front door goodnight awkwardness to pile on top of the I-just-came-on-to-a-client-whom-I-just-met awkwardness.

"Where did you find her anyway?" Great, merciful change of subject.

"Nancy?" Ash queried. "Oh, she's been with me for ages."

CHAPTER 15.

On his way to the warehouse, Luc picked up a homeless man and sat him on the back of his motorcycle. He wouldn't stay upright, so Luc climbed on in front of him and wrapped the man's arms around his shoulders, holding him in place like a stinking, s...o...b..ring sweater. The man nestled his head between Luc's shoulder blades. Luc grimaced and gunned the engine.

In under a minute, they were pulling around the side of the large concrete structure he'd selected to house his business venture. At one point, when this part of town had still been industrial, it had stored goods for shipment out of the nearby docks and rail yard. Now, with its small office and subterranean warehouse s.p.a.ce, it suited Luc's needs.