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He was translating exactly what she felt herself during that arid gap of time. But she wasn’t prepared to give up her independence so soon. She had to make him get to his jet before she lost her mind and followed him to the confines of Earth so that he’d continue to pleasure her in that flaming, consuming way of his.
She disentangled herself from him and walked to the window. “I just want to say that I-I am very grateful for the way you helped me in the past.” She knew she was implying that, for her, their affair was a way to show how thankful she was. The consequences of it wouldn’t be pleasant. “But I have just gained an independence I’ve never had before and I’d like to enjoy it a little further.”
Her back was to him so she didn’t see his expression. It went from devastation to boiling fury. The idea that she might have accepted him in her bed out of gratitude was outrageous. He wanted to think she was telling an outright lie, that she just wanted to enjoy her new-found freedom. But all he had to do was to look at her youth. Her beauty. Her sensual appetites. And he saw that gratitude was all that was possible for her to feel for him. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it. Much on the contrary, he saw her face as they made love, or sex, if she wished. There was nothing beyond that though. She didn’t feel the same lavish love he felt for her. A love that devoured his guts, burned his blood and swept his body. His soul was drowned in it and there was nothing he could do about this.
She turned to him and he hid his turmoil under a stone mask. “Don’t get me wrong.” She said blandly. “I value what we shared.”
“I see.” He muttered only too silkily. “Good bye.” He grabbed his bag and was out of the door before she could draw a breath.
As she saw the door closing, the magnitude of what she had done hit her. She had pushed him away forever and she had only herself to blame. Her legs bent and her body found the armchair in the exact second the tears started rolling down her cheeks.
Back to work, Mark was an automaton. He performed all his duties to perfection. He arrived early and left late. He immersed in work. He tried hard not to think of Amy. But she was there all the time: in his heart, in the longings of his body, in his memory and in the Georgian mansion, where her bedroom remained the same and where, after years, her presence lingered.
An important major shareholders’ meeting was about to happen in a couple of days and he had to get prepared to it. He had to put together finance reports, planning outlining and presentations. There was a lot of work to be done and it provided just the right opportunity for him to benumb himself with overload.
Amy wasn’t any better. She continued working in her consultancy business, but without any enthusiasm. She wondered why she needed all that freedom for when she wanted only to be with him again. Her life had become barren and cold. She longed for the warmth and calid moments he alone could bring to her. She just loved him and there wasn’t a way out of it.
Chapter XIV
It was five minutes for the meeting with the shareholders to start and Mark was still at his office finishing the final details of the opening presentation. He heard a knock on the door. Ms Scott put her head in. “Mr Torres is calling you, Mr Benton.”
Mark lifted his head from the laptop distractedly. “I’m coming.” Torres would be participating in the meeting, since the R&D department was the key to the future of MBS and he’d be giving a speech on its achievements and future developments.
Torres had proven to be an extremely competent professional. In those few months he had structured the R
&D department, implemented new projects and created innovative solutions for security systems. Mark was very satisfied with his job. But Mark still couldn’t swallow his Don Juan-istic manners with his female colleagues.
Mark joined Juan in the corridor and they walked together to the conference room. Mark entered first and froze, blocking the door for Juan. Among many people sitting around the big table was Amy. She was dressed in a very fine cream French-cut tailleur, her cinnamon curls knotted on the top of her head with some ringlets falling around her perfectly heart-shaped face. A touch of lip-gloss coloured her full tempting lips. Her huge translucent eyes stared blankly at him. He took some seconds to react and step in the room.
Amy had gone to lengths of care to attend to this meeting. She had become a shareholder now. She had used part of her inheritance to buy MBS shares. Even though she had prepared carefully for this moment, she realized she was not ready to face Mark again. Her heart was pounding furiously, her body was trembling and she sat on the chair upright, trying to stop the sensations that were running wild through her.
When Juan entered the room he spotted her and smiled cheerfully. “Amy!” He extended his hand to her and she stood up to greet him. “It’s a surprise. You’re a shareholder now!”
She smiled politely. “Well yes. I bought some through an agent.” As she rose, Mark had a view of her lush body under the coat and knee-length well-adjusted skirt. And his response was the eternally predictable one.
Mark looked at her disguising the fact that he was dumfounded. A shareholder? And no one alerted him? As soon as the meeting finished he’d make a couple of phone calls to ask a few questions. Besides him, she was the person with the highest number of shares there. Practically a co-owner. How did she manage to turn tables so boldly was a mystery to him. But there was a non-ignorable corner inside him that was happy to see her and happy that she chose his company to invest in.
The meeting went according to the agenda. The shareholders seemed satisfied with the course MBS was treading. As the meeting came to an interval, everybody was invited to the coffee-break in the lounge.
Juan offered his arm to Amy to take her to the lounge. At that Mark fumed. Rage cut through him as a rocket.
“Do you have anywhere to stay?” Mark heard that project-of-a-Latin-lover saying. “I’ve got a spare-room in my flat if you care to consider it.”
“She has her own room in the Georgian mansion and that’s where she’s staying.” Mark cut the conversation without regard to politeness.
Amy had arrived this morning from Nice and had left her bags in the baggage locks available in the car park in the underground. She hadn’t thought about a place to stay since she was very anxious about this meeting. She had a notion she’d stay in a hotel somewhere. It’d be only a couple of days anyway. But she missed the Georgian mansion so much, the only place she called home. And she wanted to see it again. And talk to Mrs Smith, whom she missed a lot too.
“Thank you so much, Juan.” She said in a pleasant way. “But I’d like to stay with Mrs Smith. I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“As you wish.” Juan smiled and they walked to the lounge.
Mark felt a sense of victory even though he had to tolerate that project of a Latin lover to accompany her to the lounge. What victory, you moron? Will you never learn? Wasn’t it so clear the way she felt about you? Grateful. She felt grateful to you! How difficult was it to understand? It still hurt, damn it!
The meeting finished at mid-afternoon and Mark watched out for Amy. “Come.” He said, walking to her. “I’ll take you to the Georgian mansion.”
She was talking to another shareholder in the room. She turned to him. “Yes. Sure.” She looked at the shareholder excusing herself and followed him, uncomfortable with the fact that he interrupted her and was taking her home as he wished.
Mark loaded his top-of-the-range car with her bags, opened the door for her and went to take his seat.
