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Her eyes dilated as fire melted her inside. She put her hands on his powerful biceps to stand still as her body was going lax. “I do think you owe me an apology.” It took a lot of effort for her to speak in a steel voice. His hands pulled her buttocks closer and she registered his more-than-hard member. It ignited flames in her womb. Her lips parted in an undercurrent message.
He looked at her and all he wanted was to take her to his bed and bury himself in her. His eyes darkened at the thought. “I cannot apologize for defending what’s mine!” He said in a ragged breath.
Her body was betraying her immorally and would give in to him in a matter of seconds. “A pity, because I’m not your pawn!” Using all her will power she disentangled herself from him and stomped to the stairs taking refuge in her bedroom.
They were busy days for Amy as the HR department was going through the process of hiring the R&D staff. Group dynamics, interviews, reports and meetings were happening in a whirlwind rhythm. But the nights were a tragic story. Her body implored for Mark in every possible way: memories, dreams, fantasies. It was cracking her sanity. So she immersed herself even more in work.
Mark watched her from the meeting room. His mood was the nastiest anyone had ever witnessed. Even looking at her was painful. His body ached for the feel of her. The fact that she slept a few paces from his room was a night-long torment. And he didn’t know how much more he could endure. He didn’t think he owed her an apology. In his point-of-view he was just delimiting his territory. He couldn’t understand why she was so angry at him.
At that moment she entered the meeting room. They were discussing with Juan about the candidates they’d hire. The atmosphere was charged with electricity. Amy was struggling hard to keep professional, but Mark’s presence made it a challenge. She had only to look at his predator’s attention to feel all of her melting into forbidden sensations.
Juan glared at each alternately. He sensed something was out of scope, but couldn’t identify what exactly. Both were behaving impeccably. There was a certain tension in the air though.
The meeting elapsed as normally as possible with Mark speaking in dry monosyllables. He seemed like a jailed panther: ready to attack but prevented of doing so by invisible bars. He moved uncomfortably on his chair and only eyed Amy askew for fear of being too tempted by the sight of her.
As the meeting finished and Juan left, Mark closed the door and locked it. Amy was gathering her things. She turned abruptly to look at him at the sound of the key. Being in this small room with him and with the door locked was more than she could bear.
“Until when are you carrying on this nonsense?” He asked with a barely concealed fury. He was standing by the door, legs apart, strong arms folded on his ample chest.
“Until you realise I am not a manoeuvrable asset.” Her stance reproached him. She leaned on the table, her hands on either side of her on the table, one pantyhose-ed leg stretched and the other flexed. Cinnamon silky ringlets caught up in a chignon. Her chemise gave away her full breasts and her knee-length skirt wrapped her perfect hips maddeningly.
His daring look strolled insolently over her as he tried to hide his hunger for her. “You made it plainly obvious I believe.” If he didn’t stop looking at the damn woman something else would become pretty obvious as well.
“So?” She crossed her arms and eyed him inquiringly, waiting for him to say the right thing.
But he didn’t. He side-grinned sarcastically at her, and put his hands on his waist, shoving the greenish-grey suit coat back. “Is this your way of, say, spice us up?” He angled his head as his stare bored into her. “Because if you are, you’re doing a splendid job.”
That look of his could induce her to do anything, everything. She grabbed the table rim with more force to stop her body from reacting on its own. “Spice us up?” Since when did they need such a thing? It’d be like throwing fuel to their torrid fire. A fire that would burn down the entire world, for God’s sake! “You don’t get it, do you?” Her womb was churning with sensation. She turned her back to him to pick her papers up and leave. “If you will open the door, please.”
He strode quickly to her and held her around her waist tightly from behind. His hot lips grazed the nape of her neck while one of his hands unbuttoned two buttons of her chemise and cupped her breast.
Damn the wicked man! Her breath got stuck in her throat, all the melting sensations welling in her centre. Her lashes fell, overwhelmed. When his hand found her breast under her delicate bra, it was heavily pebbled. He squeezed it between his fingers mercilessly reaping her body with feverish waves. She was still bending over the table, hands leaning on its surface. He had bent on her, the warmth of his strong body spreading over her.
Blast the stubborn woman! Mark swore inwardly. She had him at her mercy. He had nothing else to do than hope to find reli
eve in her. She threw him in a hell of frustration. His arm tightened more around her, encasing his hardness in her back. He’d never know how he could bear those college years without having her.
Amy was coming to the point of rendition. Her body was fast becoming jelly-like. His fingers were operating a massive attack on her senses. The manly scent of him reached her nostrils mining her resistance shamefully. Either she broke this spell now or she’d be lost. She jerked from him, taking him by surprise. In seconds she took her papers, holding them to cover her unbuttoned chemise; walked to the door, fumbled the key turned and left the room in a rush for her life. She entered the toilette in a flushed state, locked the door and started breathing deeply.
Mark looked at the door ajar and his mood reached the sourest level. He walked fast to his room, closed the door and sat on his chair fuming. She was driving him crazy. Crazy to the point of losing his mind in a meeting room, mid-afternoon.
Chapter X
In the days that followed Mark had a bit of soul search. He tried to understand Amy’s point of view, to put himself in her shoes. And he didn’t like the way he felt about it. She was right, he conceded. It was not a pleasant thing to be treated like a pawn. Therefore, all he had to do was to swallow his pride and talk to her. That was a difficult thing to perform.
Amy was sitting in her room preparing a report when she heard a knock on the door. “Come in.” She said distractedly, eyes on the laptop screen.
As the door clicked closed she raised her head. It was Mark in a perfectly tailored black suit, white shirt and dark-green tie. The power he had over her senses was too overwhelming. Her enormous honey pools met his ogle and she only hoped her longing for him didn’t show.
“I’ve come to say I am sorry for what happened that Friday.” His words were very grave and said slowly. His stare directed to the floor. He seemed embarrassed.
It was clear for Amy that this was an extremely difficult thing for that proud complex man. This made her value his action even more. She rested her chin on her hand, elbow on the desk, a grateful half-smile on her full lips. “Thank you so much. This was nice of you.” Her enormous stare had a suave glint on them.
Mark lifted his remarkable eyes to her. The expression on her face said everything, even if she hadn’t. A rush of gladness ran through him. She looked so beautiful sitting there serenely. He shrugged and dipped his hands in his pockets. “You’re welcome.” They glared at each other for a moment in silence. He could think of nothing else to say, so he just turned and left. He walked the hallway to his room feeling lighter, even if the weight of her irreplaceable absence was telling darkly on him.
The Georgian mansion was in the dark as Mark stepped in that evening. Just a faint light shone in the entrance hall. Amy had left the office at her usual hour. Where might she be? She hadn’t said anything about going out or something. Maybe she had retired to her room, even though it was quite early. Earlier than usual for him.
He threw his coat and tie on the sofa and went to the kitchen to eat something. He needed a shower, a cold one. To endure another agonising night without her. He finished his apple and went upstairs to his bedroom.
