Page 118 of Naughty Nelle

Almost instantly, the train sped backward, crashing into Ari’s loafers.

Ben’s eyes lit up. “Wow! What else can it do?”

“Ask it to spell ‘come’”

Ari shot me a wry smile. Gah! Why did I choose that word? Did I have sex on my brain? Oh my God. What was I thinking? And there was an even bigger problem. I hadn’t worked out all the toy’s kinks, and couldn’t remember if I’d fixed the issue of the train only being able to spell phonetically. Shit. It could easily respond with: “C-U-M.”

“Okay, train, spell ‘come,’” Ben shouted while I held my breath.

“C-O-M-E,” the train spewed out in one of those computerized voices.

I inwardly sighed with relief at the welcomed four-letter word.

“Wow! It’s a brain train!” Taken by the toy, Ben ordered it to move forward. At his command, it shot across the living room. The excited little boy chased after it.

“Very impressive, Saarah,” said Ari in that low, sultry voice, his eyes shifting from his son to me. “You seem to do very well with trains.”

The innuendo sent a rush of tingles straight to my pussy. My muscles clenched as sparks of electricity filled the air between us. Damn him for making me want him!

Before I could get a word out, Ari’s sister asked me to help her with making a salad in the kitchen. As much as this stunning woman intimidated me, I couldn’t say no.

The kitchen, off the long foyer, was enormous. Twenty of my galley kitchens could easily fit inside it. Rich dark wood cabinets lined the walls, and in the center of the black and white tiled floor, there was an island. Luisa was scooting about the kitchen, organizing platters of tasty-looking Mexican food. The tantalizing smell of a baking cake wafted in the air.

“Luisa, we’ll take it from here,” said Gwen, already tearing up greens and placing them into the large ceramic bowl sitting on the island’s countertop.

“Sí, Señora. I will set up the dining room.” Grabbing a large platter of homemade burritos, she skittered out of the kitchen.

Without her asking, I helped Gwen with the salad, cutting up tomatoes and cucumbers. I noticed she wore a simple gold band on her left fourth finger, indicating that she was married. I wondered where her husband was but didn’t feel comfortable asking. We shared an awkward stretch of silence before Gwen started in.

“Sarah, you are the first one of Ari’s women that we’ve formally met.”

The words “one of Ari’s women” unnerved me. How many had he had?

Tearing up a head of romaine, she continued, her tone chilly. “And to the best of my knowledge, the first one that he’s brought to this apartment and introduced to Ben.”

I said nothing and tossed the cut-up veggies into the bowl.

“Sarah, I don’t know how long you’ve known my brother or how much you know about him.”

“We just met recently.” Make that twenty-four hours ago, I added silently. “I don’t know him well.”

“Then, let me tell you a few things.” Her face darkened as her voice grew menacing. “My brother is very fragile. He was in an extremely abusive relationship. The divorce, in which I represented him, was very damaging and costly.”

So, she was an attorney. No wonder she was so adept at interrogating me. I bet she could be quite intimidating in a courtroom, but I wasn’t going to let those tactics get to me in a kitchen. I was eager to hear more.

“My brother—and his son—have both been in intense therapy over the last three years. Although Ben still suffers from nightmares, he doesn’t have any recollection of his mother. And thankfully, Ari is finally beginning to heal.”

I processed all of this information carefully and slowly. I was gaining insight into Ari’s former wife. It was clear to me that she had emotionally damaged both Ari and his son in some major way. While my lips were burning with questions, there was no way I was going to pry information from his fiendish sister. My gaze met hers in silence. Gwen’s emerald eyes flared and her lips, full like Ari’s, pressed into a thin, menacing line.

“Sarah, I’m very protective of my brother. Be careful. If you hurt him, you will pay the price.”

Her words made my blood run cold. Come on, Sarah, don’t let her intimidate you. And then I remembered, Sarah, plain and tall, wore combat boots.

“I don’t want to be hurt either.” With my cancer-stricken mother, I had enough pain in my life.

My words silenced her.

Dinner was casual. A Mexican buffet in the grand dining room that included a pitcher of Sangria. The polished blond wood dining table, which could be extended, was sized down to keep the dinner intimate. Ari sat at the head and his mother on the other end. I sat to the right of Ari, across from his sister, who was seated next to Ben.

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