All characters depicted in this story are eighteen or older.
*
Lydia watched him walk across the lobby. He was smooth and powerful like a jungle cat. Even under his Armani suit she could see the ripple of his muscles. Her hungry eyes followed him to the elevator. She finished her morning coffee and started reading the manuscript that Kathy had left for her. Two hours later he stepped out of the elevator and walked directly toward her. Her heart skipped a beat. Tall and handsome with short brown hair and dancing brown eyes, he was the picture of virility.
Lydia was a spectacular redhead with a dynamite body. She wasn't used to caving in to her natural instincts, but as he approached, she felt her usual iron resolve fading.
"Pardon me miss, but I just couldn't help noticing you. You're very pretty. May I have the pleasure of taking you to lunch?"
"You are very forward sir. I don't even know your name," the flustered Lydia said.
"My name is Jason King. What is your name?"
She stuttered, "Lydia King. What a coincidence."
"Well Lydia, now that we are properly introduced, the lunch invitation still stands. Are you up for it?"
Lydia wasn't used to being picked up by strangers but there was something vaguely familiar about this guy. Besides, he was a hunk. Her curiosity piqued, she replied, "Well, okay, I suppose."
She stood up and took his offered arm. He escorted her to a waiting limo and they were off. He took her to a small exclusive, expensive bistro off the main drag.
"Be back in an hour Philips," he told the driver.
"I thought that was a company limo," Lydia remarked.
"No, that's my old one. My new one will be here next week."
It was readily apparent to Lydia that Jason had a lot of money but she had no idea how much. The waiters and kitchen staff all seemed to know Jason. Lydia was impressed.
"They all seem to know you," she said.
"They should, they work for me," Jason replied.
"You mean you own this place?"
"Well, yeah, it and a half dozen or so other businesses around this city. Do you want to order or shall we leave it up to the chef?"
"Let's leave to the chef."
A bottle of champagne appeared along with an appetizer tray. Lydia liked the appetizers and had two glasses of champagne before the salad course was served.
"I'm not used to drinks before five," she giggled.
She looked into his eyes and saw a deep, burning animal lust reflected in them. Had she been completely sober, it probably would have scared her, but the two drinks had pumped her bravado up so she gazed intently into his eyes. A hint of a smile crossed his lips.
"Did I do something funny?" she asked.
"Oh no! It's just that I thought you were pretty before but now that I get a closer look I can see that you are incredibly beautiful. Are you a model or one of Hefner's girls?"
Lydia blushed a pretty pink.
"No, no, I'm an editor for a woman's magazine. I have the manuscript for a new story right here. I was reading it when you introduced yourself. What is your line of work?"
"I guess you could call me an international entrepreneur. I run businesses in 7 countries and I do a lot of charity work."
"I'm not afraid of you anymore," said Lydia, "I usually don't let strange men pick me up but there is something about you. I don't know what it is but I'm sure it will come to me eventually."
"While you're waiting for it to come to you, would you have dinner with me tomorrow?"
"Where? Back here?"
"Actually, I thought I'd pick you up early in the day and we could have lunch in London and then dinner in Italy."
Holy cats! She thought. What have I let myself in for? "What time would we start?" she heard herself asking.
"How about eight in the morning? That will give us some time to piddle around London before lunch. We can have breakfast on the flight over."
Before she could put a clamp on her mouth she quietly said, "Okay."
They had a very pleasant lunch and then he took her to her apartment.
"Oh by the way," he said as they parted, "we'll being staying in Rome a couple of days. I've got business there. That's okay, isn't it?"
"Uh, yes, I guess so," she mumbled.
What the hell have I let myself in for now? She thought as she let herself in to her apartment.
His limo picked her up at precisely eight o'clock. He wasn't in it. It took her to JFK and out to the executive ramp. She had thought they might fly first class, but the limo dropped her off at a new Gulfstream business jet and a stewardess escorted her aboard. Ten minutes later Jason arrived.
"Sorry I'm late," he apologized, "but something came up at the last minute that demanded attention."
"That's alright," she replied. "I've only been here a few minutes."
