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“Fine.” He looked at her a little too long.
She smiled awkwardly, rose to her feet and left with a nod.
Juan had heard about her story and wondered if there wasn’t more than met the eye in this. Mr Big Boss was obviously marking his territory where Amy was concerned. She was too beautiful and Torres was interested. Therefore he wanted to know if he could make a move.
A couple of days later, Amy’s colleagues invited her to the happy-hour coming Friday. She thought it a good idea to go and get better acquainted with the others.
On Friday, after the meeting they had with Juan, she followed Mark to his office, helping him with his laptop as he closed the door behind him.
“Don’t wait for me tonight. I’m going on a happy-hour with some colleagues.” She said putting the cable on the table.
Mark froze with his hands on the table. She was going out? Without him? Vexed. Vexed. He felt unlimitedly vexed! He straightened his back, parted his legs and put his hands on his waist, shoving his suit-coat back. His narrowed his focus directly at her. “Of course you’re not going!” He said in a low warning voice.
At this she became really indignant. She placed her both hands on the table, her upper body forward, making her elegant skirt wrap tightly around her shapely hips and her peach-coloured chemise give away more of her cleavage. “I am just telling you.” She looked him up in his very eyes. “I’m not asking your permission!” She said in a steel-edged voice.
He couldn’t help feeling aroused. She was all female, even when angry. Her cinnamon hair caught up in a bun on the top of her head, with tendrils falling on the sides of her cheeks. Her enormous stare flashed up at him sparks he knew so much about.
“Very well.” His voice too silky. He had heard a buzz about this happy-hour thing and had been invited, having declined politely. He didn’t think she’d accept to go though, not when the...alternative, to put it blandly, was so much more tempting.
But he looked at her as if he was undressing her and she felt a warm wave spreading over her body. She folded her arms over her breasts, not to give anything away. No use, because her eyes dilated and her breath destabilized.
“Who are you going with?”
There was a single name he didn’t want to hear and she knew it. She was not so naive as to pronounce that name, naturally. “With a couple of other girls.” It was true. Juan had offered a lift, but she declined it.
Mark had heard that project of a Latin lover was going too. And the all too familiar cold claws squeezed his heart to aching point. The image of the man flirting with her in his first day was infuriating. Mark saw how the new manager looked at her at their just finished meeting. The notion that the both of them would be at the same place on a Friday evening was outrageous and a red-hot irritation dominated him.
“Tell them I am going and that I’ll take you.” He said as if he had accepted the damn invitation from the first.
Anger grew inside Amy. She had agreed to go because he counted himself out. The tension that always vibrated between them would surely give them away. This was a hassle she could do without. It was difficult enough to keep her composure after the flamingly sensuous nights they indulged at and kept her counting the hours to repeat.
“I am sorry, but I prefer to go with them.” Arms still folded, she shifted her body weight to one leg in a defiant posture. She tilted her chin up daring him to contradict her.
He surrounded the desk and came near her, on the verge of losing control of his temper. Taking her by her shoulder, he brought her against his taut-muscled body. “You either go with me or call it off! Your choice.” Their stares clashed belligerently.
Those honey eyes shone with hot sparkles that darted up at him enraging him and tempting him shamelessly. Their breaths came in short shallow puffs. They were venting. For more than one reason.
Her heart beat fast as anger and desire battled inside her in multiple currents. But a rebellious surge won over. Why did he have to be so infuriatingly possessive? Her full lips sketched a sarcastic grin and her arms pulled away from him, taking him by surprise. “Wrong!” Her arms came to her waist. “You don’t have a choice!” She pointed the fingers at herself. “I am going with whomever I want and you don’t have a say in t
he matter!” She turned and left his office stomping.
Mark fumed as his feet carved impatiently his office carpet. She exasperated him to no end. And there was nothing he could do about this. It was exactly what drove him to distraction: the way she evaded him whenever she wanted. It’d be hard to forget Mallorca, for instance, when she slipped away on a Saturday evening.
Thinking quickly, he took the telephone and called Ms. Scott. “Please tell Mr Torres I need something done urgently for today.” His cold order was promptly carried out by his secretary.
Amy threw her head back laughing at one of her colleague’s joke that evening in the pub. It surprised her how much she felt relaxed. Mark didn’t show up. Neither did Juan. Their absences made her feel light and carefree, just enjoying the company and the funny stories she was listening to. As usual, she didn’t drink when on an outing alone. She ordered juice and participated in the chat.
It was past midnight when the cab left her at the Georgian mansion. She closed the front door and saw light under his study door to the left. She hung her coat and was making for the sitting room when the study door opened. Mark. Their eyes met and locked together. A rush of fire run through Amy’s veins as his stare scrutinized her.
“Did you have a good time?” He asked in his deep male-voice. What would she think if she knew he had given extra work to Torres, so that he’d be too busy to join them at the pub? He’d fall in her concept for sure.
His shoulder leaned on the door frame, one hand on his waist. He had no coat or tie but the shirt had the first three buttons undone, revealing his strong chest and its silky hairs in a V shape; the sleeves were rolled up his firm forearms. There was no more magnetic man in the entire universe, she thought to herself.
“Yes, thanks.” She murmured in a too velvety voice. Her translucent honey pools were glued to his figure, unable to look away.
In panther-like movements he left the door frame and walked slowly towards her. God, she was beautiful! Those enormous stare wide on him, drawing him to her, despite his conscious will. Those jewels were rather restless and he sensed she was still discontent with him. He forced himself to stop.
“Good night then.” Making an inhuman effort, she detached her eyes from him and turned to the stairs without giving him time to respond.
