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But his dismissive behaviour didn’t mislead her for a fraction of second. She knew him. Only too well. The possessive freak!
“I’ll hire a manager here.” She countered. “I’ll offer the position to Travis.” She lifted her chin defiant.
Mark narrowed his predator’s eyes. He knew Travis was a rising star and the perfect name for the job, but still... “Your task will be to headhunt into MBS, not out of it!”
She chuckled and crossed her arms. “So?”
“I compromise.” She was teaching him how to let go. She was teaching him to tame his possessiveness. The woman was nothing short of a field-general! He smiled inwardly. And he valued her even more for that.
“And I won’t live in the Georgian mansion. I’ll buy my own place in London.” She pushed further.
He sat back and spread his arms along the sofa back. “This is not negotiable.” His gaze bore directly into her deep eyes, irreducible.
She sighed in a clear sign of retreat. “Agreed. When do you want it started?”
“Monday.” Was his unblinking answer.
“But that’s too soon!” She exclaimed exasperated.
“I know you can do it.” His grave sardonic voice echoed in her nerves. He wouldn’t wait another day to have her back at the Georgian mansion.
Holy Heaven! She had loads to do, she thought, in distress. “Excuse me. I’ll have to start now.” She told him going to her home-office.
“Be my guest.” She heard the smugness distinctly in his tone.
Travis was gladly surprised to hear the offer and said he’d go through the formalities of the contract as an employee with MBS before starting with her.
Amy worked late writing e-mails, sending reports and preparing for Travis to take over. Mark came to say he’d occupy the spare room and would leave in the morning. She agreed distractedly. Work took her over and she had nearly forgotten all about him.
Mark decided to leave next morning. A strategic retreat, so to say, lest she changed her mind. He didn’t think she’d even notice it as she was so engrossed in her work. But he was satisfied. Only too satisfied. The perspective of having her back under his roof made him wrench in flammable need.
The days that followed were the busiest Amy could remember. Monday was, naturally, too soon and Amy warned Mark that it wouldn’t happen. Nevertheless, a week later she was installed in her new office in London and already preparing the first actions regarding MBS. She and Travis McDougal had a number of meetings to prepare him for Nice. Mark had released him from the contract clauses and he was able to travel in a couple of days. The whole moving felt like a windstorm for Amy and she was exhausted.
Seeing her with that much workload kept Mark wondering whether he hadn’t pushed her too far. A faint voice in the back of his mind said he had. Nonetheless, she was re-installed in the Georgian mansion. One of the upstairs rooms was transformed in her study, where she had been spending a lot of time. And she was there, near him, from where she should never have taken off.
A couple of days later Mark arrived home from work. He had looked for Amy in her office so that they could come together, but he was informed that she had already left. As he entered the cosily decorated sitting room he saw Amy. She had her head fallen back on the sofa cushion, a forgotten book on her lap. Her features were relaxed as she slept oblivious to everything around. She was wearing shorts and a tank top, as the weather was pleasant. Mark felt a sting of guilt at the sight of her. She looked so exhausted.
He approximated her and touched her delicately on her shoulder. She never stirred. He decided to take her up. Carefully he slipped one arm under her spine and one under her knees. He lifted her without much effort. The movement awoke her slightly.
“Mark.” She murmured; her eyelids hoisted faintly.
“I’m taking you to my bed.” He said at the foot of the stairs.
“Hmmm.” She agreed. Sleeping, her arms laced his neck and her head leaned on his powerful chest.
He set her with utter care on his bed and covered her as she was a precious thing. She turned to her side and immersed in immediate deep sleep. He showered, put on boxer-shorts and lay near her holding and protecting her repose. He inhaled the flowery scent of her cinnamon silky curls as he dived his face in them. He heard her moan content in her oblivion. Soon he was taken by the most repairing sleep he had had in weeks.
Mark awoke with the sun filtering through the curtains, he lay on his side. First thing he looked for was Amy, who had her head nested on his broad chest, her cinnamon silky curls spread on the pillow. She turned in her sleep and lay on her back, upper body uncovered. Her tank-top revealed more than hid her tempting full breasts. He lifted on his elbow to look intently at her. He could lie there the whole day, his whole life, looking at her.
She opened her huge eyes and turned to him. As his focus on her, undercurrent communication established itself between them. Mark’s body responded with ardent intensity.
Amy couldn’t take her eyes from him. His broad chest carpeted with soft fleece was all there for her eyes to feast upon. Blazing rivers ran inside her, her body missing and recognising him. Without breaking eye-contact, her foot rose to caress his potent thigh. Her leg intertwined with his.
Mark’s hand came to her chest. A light finger caressed her creamy soft skin, lowering her top to disclose her breast. His mouth came to the nipple to suckle on it. A shock of sensation clashed with her skin, her eyes closed, her throat moaned. He lifted his head and looked at her, his body ready for her. He laced her waist with one arm and a hand went under her neck. He claimed her lips in a deep ravishing kiss. Her hands held his biceps, of which she couldn’t grab one-third.
He kissed her over and over again with a long fermented hunger. Their bodies entangled in every possible way. Heaving, he tore her tiny, thin-fabric shorts, revealing her feminine curves. His mouth left hers to trail fiery kisses down her throat, her chest, over her top, down her navel, until it found the core of her, eager and wet. She writhed under him as his tongue unveiled all her secrets. Insistently.
This is where he wanted her: in his house, in his bed, all around him. The passion she ignited in him was too consuming to understand. So he stopped trying to. He just needed to lose himself in her, like there was no tomorrow. Because being with her, being in her was what
