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.

we could get to know each other a little, maybe become friends. As for the contract, I'll sign it, no need

faint, courteous smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Pearce, but I have a lot of work waiting

he quickly masked it. He'd heard stories about this woman-rumors of her so-called wild side, her string of flings after her

hard to

expression. "If you're busy, I wouldn't dream of keeping you. But since fate brought us together,

a glass of wine and offered it

words were smooth, making it almost impossible to refuse without seeming

glass and gave a

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

fingers. A nearby server immediately stepped forward, opened a fresh bottle of sparkling water in front of them, demonstrating there'd been no chance to

scene

handed it to Shawn with

drink. "Ms. Cameron, surely

felt compelled to accept. Refusing again would come off

neither reached for the glass nor

soft and persuasive. “Ms. Cameron, if you' Just have this drink with

me I'll sig