If You So Desire Page 8

  “You don’t have a problem with that?” Peter asked because of Sage’s less-than-enthusiastic response.

  “Of course not,” Sage replied. “I defer to the senior partners and will do my best to persuade Ian of the firm’s capabilities.”

  “We have no doubt you will,” Elliott replied. “While you’re out there, you might as well get the discovery process rolling and interview L.E. employees about the lawsuit.”

  “I intend to do just that.” Sage smiled on her way out of the door even though she was inwardly fuming. She wanted to rush over to the Four Seasons and call Ian Lawrence out on what a low-handed move he had just pulled. But of course that was what he would expect. Get her all hot and bothered in yet another argument and the next thing she knew, she’d be sprawled out on his bed and begging him to take her.

  No, no, no. She had to think with her head and not her emotions. She had to think of Ian as one of her opponents in the courtroom and put the skills she’d learned to good use.

  “I just heard from Peter Waggoner,” Jeffrey told Ian later that morning. “Sage will be accompanying you to Los Angeles.”

  “You know I’ll need you to stay behind here in New York and keep everything at Craze running smoothly.”

  “Of course,” Jeffrey replied. Ian wanted the feisty attorney all to himself with no interruptions. Jeffrey just hoped this didn’t blow up in his face. “The Four Seasons presidential suite is all set for your arrival.”

  Ian smiled. He’d stayed in the hotel several times and knew the suite to have two bedrooms along with a fabulous view of L.A. and the mountains. “Well done.”

  Jeffrey shook his head. Ian may be pleased with himself, but Jeffrey felt as if he was playing with fire. But then again, that was Ian. He was ruthless and calculating when he wanted something. Jeffrey supposed that was what made him such a great businessman. Sage Anderson had no idea who she was dealing with.

  Sage paced the floor of her two-bedroom Upper East Side condo as she waited for the town car Ian had hired to pick her up on Saturday. She’d spent the better part of last night packing her suitcase for the weeklong trip to Los Angeles, so why did she feel as if she was forgetting something?

  She’d packed her files and reports on Ian’s case in her briefcase, several suits for the day, a few casual outfits, a handful of evening dresses and two bathing suits. She was going to California after all. So why was she fretting so?

  She told herself it was just anxiety over flying in a private jet, which Ian had insisted on. Sage would have much preferred a large commercial aircraft, but deep down Sage knew it wasn’t fear of flying that had her wound up as tight as a grandfather clock. It was fear of a certain six-foot-three man with a killer physique, piercing dark eyes and the most sinful lips she’d ever encountered.

  Sage touched her lips with her fingertips. Even though it had been a few weeks since the launch party, she still remembered the feel of his Ian’s lips as they roamed over hers, remembered the pressure as he coerced them into parting, remembered the taste of him as his tongue merged with hers and it still intoxicated her. She had to snap out of it. In less than an hour, they would be sharing a cabin for an almost six-hour cross-country flight and she needed to get her libido in check. She was berating herself for allowing her emotions to run away with her again when her phone rang. It was the driver and he was downstairs.

  The drive to the airstrip was fraught with anxiety for Sage as butterflies somersaulted in her stomach. They were worse than the first time she’d tried a case in court. Get a grip, she told herself. Maybe it was because she’d thought Ian would be in the car, and when he wasn’t, she became even more anxious at the thought of seeing him again.

  When the car finally came to a stop, Sage jumped out before the driver had a chance to come around. She was eager for some fresh air. She was sucking some much-needed air into her starved lungs and resting against the side of the car when a limousine pulled up alongside the car. Out popped Ian wearing jeans with a white pullover sweater and looking like the cherry on top of a sundae.

  Oh, my, Sage thought, standing upright. “Ian.” She inclined her head in acknowledgment.

  “Sage.” Ian smiled at her warmly and reminded her of the perfect set of pearly whites he had. “You’re looking well,” he added. His eyes roamed her casual attire of jeans, T-shirt and corduroy blazer.

  “I didn’t picture you as the jeans type,” she replied.

  “Then I would say you have a lot to learn about me,” he said, motioning for her to precede him up the stairs.

  The cabin was spacious with a long couch near one window and several large recliner seats on the opposite end. A minibar with water, soft drinks, sandwiches, fruits and snacks was already set up for their arrival.

  “So this is how the rich and famous live,” Sage said, buckling her seat belt in one of the recliner seats, while Ian made himself comfortable on the couch.

  “One of the ways.” Ian regarded her from the couch. He’d noted that she’d picked the seat farthest away from him. But no matter, by the end of the trip he’d have her sitting in his lap. “Would you care for anything to drink?”

  “Water would be great.”

  Ian rose and headed for the minibar. He cracked open a bottle of club soda for himself and handed her a bottle of Evian. When their fingertips touched, Sage felt a surge of electricity course through her. She was sure he felt it, too, because his eyes darkened. But instead of saying anything, Ian sat back down and made polite conversation.

  “I’m hoping this trip will be productive.” Ian leaned back and sipped on his drink. “I’m looking at acquiring an online magazine currently in the red and bringing it under the Lawrence Enterprises umbrella.”

  He wanted to make nice, did he? Well, two can play that game. “Greenberg, Hanson, Waggoner and Associates are eager to be of assistance,” Sage returned. “And would be happy to guide you on this or any other transaction L.E. might have.”

  “I just bet.”

  “That is why you brought me here,” Sage said, hazarding a glance in his direction. “For my professional expertise, is it not?”

  “Why else?” Ian asked underneath hooded lashes. He wanted this woman bad. So much so that it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to sleep nights because of his recurrent unrelieved erection. He needed release and this week he would end his agony and sink deep into her wet heat.

  Their conversation was polite for the first half of the flight but with an underlying tension in the air. During their lunch of cold cuts and pasta salad, they both finally relaxed and talked about music and movies. Sage even moved from her recliner and joined Ian on the couch.

  They discovered that neither of them was much into chick flicks but shared a common love of drama and action. For music, their taste differed on rock but converged on rhythm and blues, jazz and country. Politics was where they went awry. The conversation became very heated when Sage realized Ian was a die-hard Republican, while she was a Democrat.

  Sage sighed. Just when she was thinking they shared some commonalities, Ian went and blew it all to hell.

  “Can we agree to disagree?”

  “Fine.” Sage returned to her recliner and folded her arms across her chest.

  “Not fine.” Ian couldn’t resist temptation and rushed over. He swept Sage in his arms and kissed her.

  “Ian, we can’t.” Sage tried to struggle, but her resolve faltered when Ian picked her up, guided her legs around his waist and fell back onto the couch. His hands roamed over her behind, pulling her firmly against his burgeoning groin, while his lips commanded hers and shot flames of desire through Sage.

  She responded to his caress by grabbing both sides of his face and kissing him back. Ian eagerly parted his lips and Sage plunged inside, exploring the interior of his mouth with her hot, wet tongue. Ian moaned underneath her and Sage gyrated her hips against his bulging manhood and whimpered.

  “Oh, yes.” She whimpered as her center came against his gr
oin.

  Her little moans made Ian deepen the kiss. He wanted to have all of her right now. He flipped Sage on her back and was in the process of pulling off his shirt when the captain’s voice came on the intercom.

  “Please buckle your seat belts in preparation for landing.”

  Startled, Sage jumped up off the couch and returned to her seat, while Ian fixed his clothes.

  “Sage…” Ian started to speak, but Sage lowered her head and refused to look at him. His face turned to stone and he faced the window. Ian shifted uncomfortably due to the hard-on that only Sage could vanquish. It infuriated him that she was denying the inevitable when he clearly could not.

  Sage was thankful when the jet touched down and she was finally released from the small confines of the cabin.

  A limousine was waiting for them when they disembarked and whisked them to the Four Seasons. Sage was quiet on the ride and thankfully Ian didn’t press the issue. While he went to take care of the arrangements, Sage went to freshen up in the ladies’ room.

  When she returned, he headed toward the elevator. “Follow me.”

  Sage didn’t like being beckoned but followed him inside nonetheless. She noticed that the penthouse button was lit up. “We’re going to the penthouse?”

  “Yes, do you have a problem with that?” Ian asked. “Or would you prefer to slum it in a standard room?”

  There was no need for him to be rude and Sage was about to tell him so when the elevator came to a halt. She was overwhelmed when he opened the door at the opulence of the surroundings. It was very similar to New York and boasted a baby grand piano, fireplace, dining area and private balcony.

  Ian surveyed the room, taking in the champagne and fresh flowers. Once again, Jeffrey had outdone himself.

  “You arranged all of this, this entire trip—” Sage swept her arms around “—to seduce me.” When he didn’t answer she continued. “And I suppose there’s only one bedroom?”

  Ian rubbed his chin. “No, there are two, if you’d like to use one. But as you’re already aware, I seek to rectify that, and after what happened on the flight, we won’t need them both for long.”

  Furious, Sage swept past him to the adjacent bedroom and slammed the door shut. Sage glanced around and noted that the bedroom was decorated with more fresh flowers and chocolates on the bedside table. There was even a box of lingerie from what Sage guessed was some expensive boutique. The bastard had thought of every detail, Sage thought as she plopped down on the bed. Was it inevitable that they would become lovers?

  “Are you going to stay in there all day?” Ian asked from the other side of the door, when after nearly an hour had passed and Sage hadn’t left the confines of her bedroom. He’d already showered and changed and her suitcases were still outside the bedroom door.

  “So what if I am?” Sage asked from behind the door. She had to look out for her own self-preservation and if hiding in the bedroom was the only way to avoid dealing with her attraction to her client then that was what she was going to do.

  “You’re just being stubborn,” Ian replied. “Aren’t you hungry? I know I am.”

  As if on cue, her stomach rumbled. She could use a bite to eat; the sandwich on the plane had done little to curb her appetite. She swung open the door. “Fine. We can do dinner, but that’s it.”

  “All right,” Ian replied, pushing past her to bring her suitcases into the bedroom. “Why don’t you take a hot shower and I’ll meet you in the living room. I have a few phones calls to make.” He caressed her cheek on the way out.

  Why did he have to do that? Sage thought as she stripped out of her clothes.

  She emerged from her bedroom in less than half an hour wearing a simple one-shoulder black sheath. She didn’t want to give Ian too much to look at. “I hope this will do,” she said, spinning around.

  “You’d look beautiful to me wearing nothing but a smile,” Ian replied. He liked the way the dress molded to her hips, accentuating her curves.

  Sage colored. Ian looked equally handsome and virile in his pressed trousers, shirt and sports jacket. It wasn’t true what they said about clothes making the man. This man made the clothes.

  “Let’s go.” He grabbed her hand. “I made reservations for us for at a great little Italian place.”

  Il Cielo was far from a little Italian place, Sage thought as she exited the limousine and took Ian’s arm. From its sparkling lights that glimmered in the moonlight to the cozy lighting and ambience, it was a romantic spot for two lovers. “This way, signor,” the host said.

  They followed him to a secluded alcove for two. “Thank you,” Sage said when he helped her into her seat and handed her a menu.

  Ian ordered a bottle of wine before Sage could even offer an opinion. “How did you know I want wine?”

  “I don’t, but you’ll love it. It’s an excellent vintage,” Ian responded.

  Sage ordered the tomato basil soup and pollo ai funghi porcini, a chicken breast with mushroom sauce, and Ian ordered loup de mer alla griglia, Mediterranean sea bass with herbs.

  The food and wine were wonderful, but Sage expected nothing less of Ian when he was trying to woo her. She, however, intended to stay strong in her resolve to resist his advances.

  “When are we going to get down to business?” Sage asked when the antipasto platter arrived for them to share. “We did come to here to work and look at a new venture. Or was the acquisition simply a smoke screen to get me here?”

  “Yes and no,” Ian answered honestly. He had never hidden his interest in her and wasn’t about to start. He filled her in on the details of the online magazine. The current owner wasn’t interested in selling, but advertising dollars had dwindled and he was beginning to be desperate.

  “He’s trying some advertising sources that are currently advertising very heavily with L.E.”

  “And of course, they want L.E.’s business more than his?”

  “Is there a touch of cynicism in your tone?” Ian asked. “This is business after all. Nothing personal.”

  “Is anything ever personal with you, Ian?”

  “Why do I have a feeling we’re not talking business anymore?”

  When the waiter arrived with their food, it gave Sage a moment to pause before commenting. “We’re not. You’re known for loving ’em and leaving ’em. Why would I risk that?”

  “Because the reward would be phenomenal,” Ian responded, never taking his eyes off her. “And my reputation is completely overblown. I never lie to the women I’m with about my true intentions. Why do you care anyway? You don’t strike me as the commitment type either. When was your last relationship?”

  “Seven years ago,” she admitted slowly.

  “Why so long? Ian asked. “And what ended it?”

  Sage paused before responding, cutting into her chicken instead and taking a generous bite. “My fiancé cheated on me because he said I wasn’t at home. Now mind you, he was working just as hard as me. So he was not only a cheat, but also a liar.”

  “And after your fiancé?”

  “My focus has been my career,” Sage said. “I was starting out with G.H.W.A. and I had something to prove.”

  “So you’ve put your career over your personal life?” Ian reached for his wineglass and took a sip.

  “You make that sound like a bad thing.”

  “It’s not. You know where your priorities lie and you let nothing get in your way.”

  “It wasn’t as simple as that,” Sage replied. “James knew I wanted to be a lawyer when we met. He changed, not me. And now I’m exactly where I need to be to make partner.” Sage sipped her wine. “And if I play my cards right, it’s in my reach.”

  “I have no doubt you will. Would you like dessert and coffee?” Ian asked when the waiter came back to their table.

  “No, thank you, I’m stuffed.”

  Once he settled the bill, the car took them back to their hotel. Sage was quiet on the ride up to the suite. She was sure Ian would like nothin
g better than to take their relationship to the next level, but Sage had no intention of doing so.

  “Thank you for dinner. It was great,” Sage said and quickly headed to her room to escape Ian’s all-too-commanding presence.

  Ian sighed. Sage could run for now but she couldn’t hide.

  Chapter 8

  Sage kept Ian at a distance during the next few days that followed. She accompanied him as counsel when he met with the owner of the online magazine for dinner on Sunday, listened as he gave the man the alternatives if he didn’t sell: go under or file bankruptcy. She dined with Ian and a fellow business associate when he needed a companion on Monday evening, but still she kept him at arm’s length. The only fun she’d allowed herself was on Tuesday when she’d agreed to go out with Ian and see the sights of L.A.: Rodeo Drive, the Kodak Theatre, Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, the Hollywood Walk of Fame and the big Hollywood sign in the hills.

  During the day Sage had interviewed several of Lucas’s colleagues in the conference room of the West Coast office of Lawrence Enterprises and for the most part, she’d found Ian’s employees to be a good-natured, easygoing bunch. People who enjoyed what they did and loved the company they worked for. All of his employees had indicated Ian was fair almost to a fault and rewarded excellence. They would make great witnesses for the defense.

  She discovered that Lucas Johnson had done a phenomenal job in the L.A. office even though he hated to be there. But she did find one potential bump in the round. Bruce Hoffman had had words with Lucas several times. Several witnesses attested that epithets and racial comments were used. What would have caused this sudden display of racism?

  On Wednesday afternoon she set up a meeting with Bruce Hoffman. He turned out to be short, about five foot seven with a stock build and pasty white skin. He had silver hair and Sage imagined he was a sly silver fox with a Napoleon complex.