extra late to protect the castle and discuss the difference between good dragons and bad dragons, and all the magical reasons why they were both fire-breathing and invisible. Then, after promising Aidan that they could do it all over again tomorrow morning, she coaxed him up the stairs and into bed where she lay next to him until he soundly fell asleep; but not before he let her know she was the best mommy in the world and his very bestest friend.
When she left his bedroom, she heard the routine sound of her mother’s nasal snoring. Isabel slipped into her spare bedroom and closed her door. After arriving home from the office, Aidan had barely given her a chance to deposit her purse in her room, much less allow her to change out of her work clothes. Now, she sighed with relief as she peeled off her skirt, panty hose, and silk blouse, and released her hair from its French twist bondage— safe and conservative . Even when she dressed up for fancy galas, like the one last night, she rarely wore her hair down. But as she peered at her own image in her dressing table’s oval mirror, she allowed her long brown hair to cascade below her bare shoulders. Isabel always felt so much older than her twenty-nine years. Almost thirty . Ever since deciding not to terminate her unexpected pregnancy and choosing motherhood over college graduation, she felt like she had skipped over her carefree youth and skidded past the prime of her life. Now, as she stared at her own reflection in the dim light—her black spandex bra, her bare shoulders, her flowing locks of hair—she silently acknowledged the possibility of an alluring woman staring back at her. It was an image she generally ignored or dismissed because there was no reason to entertain it. But now, her eyes fell upon the Chihuly swan vase and its single dried rose, its petals curling with resignation. It was the lone remnant of the blush pink roses that she had discarded earlier that morning, and the solitary reminder of the fact than someone else wished to admire her the way she secretly hoped someone would—as an attractive, passionate woman who yearned to be more than someone’s mother, daughter, and executive assistant. An attractive passionate woman capable of experiencing desire and reciprocating it.
Isabel turned to her purse and fished out the red leatherette Cartier box. She creaked open its hinges and settled her eyes on the stunning sapphire and diamond necklace resting inside its black velvet interior. It was the first time she truly allowed herself to admire it as her very own. In the privacy of her own bedroom—without the oppressive office politics and her own conflicted feelings of obligation influencing her every glance and thought. Isabel indulged in the necklace’s scintillating brilliance as she gently lifted it out of its case. She lifted up her hair and slipped it around her bare neck, its sleek platinum setting and majestic gemstones pressing heavy against her skin. Fastening its sturdy clasp, she relaxed her shoulders and submitted herself to the cool touch of its elegance. How her admirer knew her birthstone was sapphire, she had no idea. But only a man who had studied her with silent adoration could calculate how perfectly the necklace would adorn her neckline and accentuate the flashing spitfire within her smoldering Spanish eyes.
Passionate. Sexy. Seductive . They were all aspects of her personality that she was forced to suppress on a daily basis because there was no place for personal emotions and desires in her professional career or around her family at home. Passionate, sexy, seductive —they were emotions that kindled inside her as she touched her own bare shoulder and imagined what it would feel like to be caressed by a man determined to express his own desire for her. She glanced down at the white lingerie box that rested on her dressing table, then turned towards her closet and
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