The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

Shawn had met Aurora a few times before. Sure, she was beautiful, but in his eyes, she simply didn't have the same allure as Stella.

The woman sitting across from him now was something else entirely. Her features were striking-elegant but not cold, radiant yet never gaudy. There was a confidence to her beauty that never tipped into vulgarity, a kind of magnetic femininity that felt both refined and intoxicating. It was the sort of beauty that felt almost dangerous, the kind that made a man want to possess her.

He'd met his fair share of attractive women, but he'd never encountered anyone quite like Stella. She was alluring without being cheap, enchanting without being overbearing. She made his heart race with a desire that was hard to ignore. Just as he was admiring her, a sudden chill crept up Shawn's spine.

His body tensed instinctively, every nerve on edge. Even the hairs on his arms stood up, as if warning him of imminent danger.

He looked up, only to meet a pair of pitch-dark eyes, cold as a winter storm.

For a split second, Shawn froze. Then it clicked-he recognized the man.

Right. He was the guy Stella had brought with her. Maybe her kept boy? No, wait —a bodyguard, that seemed more likely.

Shawn regained his composure and forced a smile. "I already checked everything the last time. No need to go over it all again today."

Stella took out the contract, her tone polite but distant. "If there's nothing else, Mr. Pearce, perhaps you could sign the contract now?"

Shawn accepted the paperwork, barely glancing at it before setting it aside.

I was hoping we could get to know each other a little, maybe

glanced at her watch, her lips curving in a faint, courteous smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Pearce, but I have a lot of work waiting

flicker of annoyance crossed Shawn's face, though he quickly masked it. He'd heard stories about this woman-rumors of her so-called wild side, her string of flings after her divorce, the way she'd

play hard to

wouldn't dream of keeping you. But since fate brought us together, how about a toast? Would you do

glass of wine and offered it

were smooth, making it almost impossible to refuse

at the glass and gave a polite, distant smile. "I'm sorry, I

"If you don't like alcohol, how about a soft drink

stepped forward, opened a fresh bottle of sparkling water in front of them,

scene unfold,

poured a glass and handed it to

held out the drink. "Ms. Cameron, surely this is okay

would have felt compelled to accept. Refusing again would come

Stella neither reached for the glass nor

soft and persuasive. “Ms. Cameron, if you'

me I'll sig