Under Pressure [IAD Agency] (Siren Publishing Classic)

him.
    Instinct had him reaching out to grab her. He looked down into her smiling amber eyes, and the blood drained out of his brain straight down to his dick.
    Shit , where was his legendary control now?
    He was a man, not a love-struck teenager getting a hard-on at a woman’s touch.
    This woman was appealing, not his usual type, but as she stroked her hand down his arm, all he could think of was having those hand wrapped around his cock, sliding up and down on him.
    Bloody hell, she was a little thing. Probably someone’s trophy wife.
    No, no ring.
    Then a girlfriend brought here to impress and look pretty.
    And pretty she was.
    He waited for the expected tearful apology as he wasn’t in the mood to be charming any little debutantes tonight. Wait, how old was she? Her feisty response surprised him. Jason watched, fascinated as the temper fired in her eyes turning them to liquid gold.
    Arrogant ass, Jason thought with an inner chuckle.
    Perhaps this evening would not be a complete waste.

Chapter Three
     
    Bella pushed open the door to the balcony. Jerking open her purse she took out a cigarette then the lighter and lit it, inhaling deep.
    “What a jerk,” she groused to herself.
    There were a few people scattered in groups around outside, but she made no move to join any of them.
    She desperately needed a moment alone.
    Bella was a mixture of emotions, still fuming from the anger that the stranger evoked but shaken inside from the confrontation. She strode to the end of the balcony away from the murmuring conversations and the lights pouring through the glass doors, around the plotted trees scattered here and there, to rest her arms against the railing. The sounds of the city were faint as she looked down to the streets far below. It was a crisp fall evening, with a cool light breeze that only hinted of colder weather to come.
    A perfect night.
    The knee-length bronze dress she wore was light. The silk panels flowing over her body in the breeze left her arms bare but came together almost in a scarf high around her neck. It was cover enough to hide the scars that were still there. At least some scars could be hidden and some would heal with time, she told herself immediately. She never bothered to wear hose, hating them, always stating that she would wear them when men were forced to wear them as well.
    Which would be this side of never.
    She shuffled from foot to foot on her three-inch stiletto heels, another one of her addictions that she allowed herself, but what the hell, she needed the extra height.
    As the anger faded, she felt the familiar feeling of basic unease she seemed to live with. It seemed that over the past year she had been a constant contradiction, never really sure of herself or what she was doing, and she hated it.
    She was back here in Chicago, home, to find herself again, to recapture what she had lost. Or what had been taken from her.
    But she still didn’t feel whole.
    Bella had grown up sheltered under the watchful eye of her three older brothers whose overbearing manner had done just the opposite of what they had intended. It let her develop a carefree, open attitude toward men and dating. She had casually dated, enjoyed sex, not that any of her brothers knew about, but always held her heart for the one . Most men she knew couldn’t stand up to her overprotective brothers, and those relationships had fizzled fast as Bella quickly realized that she needed someone stronger, someone to match her in every way.
    She held a special place in her family, had been their little spitfire. She had loved life, embraced it to the fullest. Growing up working at the bar they owned, Moretti’s, she had first developed her love of the food industry. She had been grateful for her family always encouraging her to follow her dreams. Bella had fought her way into one of the top culinary schools in France and her family had understood her need to go. Once she had graduated, she had traveled the world. Building a name for herself, she expressed a love for her craft that was appreciated by all.
    Then she had been approached by the owner of an elite hotel in New York City and offered a position as the executive chef, giving her free rein to revamp the menu at her discretion. With her being so young it was almost unheard to get such an offer, so of course she immediately had to accept. She had been caught up in the whirlwind of her career, loving the excitement of the fast-paced world she lived in. She had