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My lips tingle from the way he traces them with his hungry gaze, every particle of my body reacting to his magnetic field. I lick my lips, and I lift my chin to tell him off.
~Mark~
We stare at one another as an electric current charges the space between us.
“Stop looking at me like that, Mr. Lawson,” she rasps, her pulse hammering against her neck as she slips away from me.
Her vivid hair draws me to her like a moth to the fire to lick the flaming strands. She looks like a princess, lush beauty, ready to be devoured. And all I think about is her curves and soft skin against mine. She moans as the pleasure ignites her body.
I’ve never brought a woman with me and claimed her safety and well-being as mine. Such a level of possessiveness is new to me. But Cassandra Cade is my ultimate obsession, a fascinating bird, living in the golden cage, dreaming about freedom. Her anguish is so familiar to me, my heart is unable to ignore it. I want to set her free as much as possess her.
Abbas thought I was joking about me killing him if he touches her. But I was telling the truth. I would have destroyed him. I learned a few tricks from Logan, and it isn’t beyond me to use all means necessary to secure her safety. Such people like Abbas use their daughters and sons to gain more power, more money. Darren and Helen are using her too. I just don’t know what their end game is.
But here in this majestic room, it’s just us now. No family, no rules or expectations. The undeniable connection’s pulling us closer, one heartbeat, and one breath at a time. If not careful, we both might fall into the vortex. I’m not sure I care to fight this. She’s all I think about, all I see. All I desire. She’s the light consuming my dark dreams and tortured mind.
“I can’t help it, Mrs. Cade. You are a gorgeous woman full of contradictions.” I know my eyes blaze with a hunger she can’t so easily dismiss.
She struggles with my admission, looking for a diversion, but I’m not able to give her one. Not anymore. My restraints are dissolving. All the arguments why I can’t have her look like feeble lies I told myself.
/> “Why do you keep using my last name?” Her voice is low, careful, cheeks glowing as she chugs wine in a few gulps as if trying to douse the fire slowly burning her.
A smirk forms on my lips as I mull over the question, but when I see the veiled hunger in her eyes, I give in. “For the same reason you do.” I pause, watching her nostrils flare. “I need to keep reminding myself not to touch you. That’s why.”
Surprise flickers in her irises. Her hand coils around the goblet as if it can save her.
“I’m here to work, Mr. Lawson.”
I swear she looks straight into my soul with that inner turmoil, swirling like a storm.
Gulping the wine, I nod, trying not to think about her so close, so achingly beautiful. I get her. She has been through enough as it is. Her life’s full of complications. She’s judged, trashed by the public. Her in-laws have done a lot of damage to her self-esteem. Grief reinforced that message, carving wounds into her soul deeper than the flesh.
But I’m no longer interested in letting her hide. She has done this all her life.
“Would it be so bad if you enjoyed yourself? Forgotten who you’re supposed to be and claimed what you want?”
Before she has a chance to answer, doors open and servers bring food, filling up our glasses. We take a seat and start eating when we’re left alone. The silence stretches between us, while her mind is light-years away, searching for answers.
“They’ve done a number on you, haven’t they? You can’t see past it.”
Her cutlery stills in her hands as she stares at me.
“You know nothing about me, Mark. Don’t believe everything you read or see. I’m more than just a name, more than a fictional character created by the press. There’s more to me than you think.”
“I’m not a fool or blind.” I chew my food slowly, pondering something, and then I dab my mouth with a cloth, determined. “But you’re afraid of your own shadow. You’re allowing your past to define you. This way, you’ll never be able to surpass it and redefine your life.” And I know something about it. Warfare with yourself is the hardest battle a person struggles to win.
“Have you beaten your demons, Mark? Have you ever been able to live without them dragging you back?” She challenges me as if knowing I have a share of them. I know I hit the aching spot when angry tears well up in her pale eyes.
“At least, I don’t let them rule my life, make decisions for me.” I avert my gaze as the meaning of what I’m saying registers.
She huffs, jumping to her feet, throwing her cloth on the table. “You have a nerve. What do you know about me to make these assumptions?” She moves toward the door to leave. My hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist, and she twirls to look at me, shaking like she’s about to burst open.
I pull, and she stumbles into me. “I can teach you how to fly, but you have to spread your wings first, Lovebird. That cage is just in your mind. You’re free, but you act as if you’re locked up.”
“I’m not a bird, Mark,” she seethes, and I love that anger storming through her body. She looks fierce. I just wonder if I could push her even more. If I could crack her binds.
“Aren’t you?” This fighter needs a little push.
“How about you, Mark?”
