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What is that old saying? Better the devil you know. And although Alexander sure looks as sexy as sin, tall and powerful with dark blue eyes that can lock you into place with a single look, I don’t fear him. I have given him several opportunities to lash out at me: I’ve punched him and encroached in his own personal space, and he just held me to his strong, muscular body. Oh, how I would like to look at that body in less than its usual fully clothed state.
When I opened my door earlier in just my underwear, I saw how it affected him. I have that over him if ever I need it. He is attracted to me, there is no doubt about that. Then again, that’s never been one of my problems. Guys have always ogled me when I’m out and about, even more so the ones I’ve slept with. And at the end of the day, Alexander is a red-blooded male like the rest of them.
Looking at the clock on the wall, I see it’s approaching dinner time, so I head into the closet and quickly dress for dinner. In the bathroom, I go through all the drawers and find a few makeup items, all with their security wrapping intact. I take the powder, blush, and mascara out and apply a little of all before returning them to their place. In the final drawer I open is a small old-fashioned perfume atomizer. I retrieve it carefully and squeeze the pump, spritzing the fragrance in the air in front of me. I’m immediately met with the smell of roses. I spray some more into the air and walk through it, then I set the bottle onto the counter and head down for dinner.
I reach the bottom of the stairs and head straight for the kitchen. “Thelma, you here?”
“Yes, dear.” She pops up from behind the counter. “You look lovely,” she comments.
“Thank you. I was wondering if Mr. Black might join me for dinner tonight?” I see a ghost of a smile appear on Thelma’s lips then it disappears as quickly as it came.
“He is in the living room waiting for you, dear.” I nod and turn, walking with as much confidence as I can manage. Knowing he is just a couple of meters away, I stop at the open door. Closing my eyes, I take one deep breath, followed by another.
“Mr. Black, are you down here?” I call.
“In here, Rebecca.” His voice, smooth like a good whiskey, comes from within. I step into the room and spot him sitting on the oversized sofa, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. Black dress pants cover his long legs, and black leather shoes enclose his feet. My eyes greedily take in his form as he uncrosses his legs and leans forward, elbows on his knees, and looking right back at me. The cuffs of his gray dress shirt pull back to reveal peekaboo black hair at his wrists. Finally, I land on the most incredibly perfect part of his body—his face. Perfectly sculpted features, with full lips, and dark blue almost black eyes that remind me of the diamonds encircling my wrist.
I avert my eyes quickly to the vacant spot on his right. “I thought we might have dinner together since you are home. If you don’t have plans, of course?” I hear my voice wobble slightly.
“I don’t have plans,” he replies, not averting his gaze from mine.
“Okay then.” I continue toward him and finally sit. I turn my attention to the television on the wall and see an action film playing. Gun fire, loud and clear, comes from the surround sound speakers. I begin to absentmindedly play with my bracelet.
I sneak looks across at Alexander who is once again sitting back in the comfortable upholstery—he’s checking his watch then looking out the window to our side. Not wanting to be a distraction, I stand and take a step toward the door. His voice comes from behind me. “Where do you think you’re going?” But I keep walking. “Come back now and sit down, Rebecca.”
I stop and turn to look over my shoulder, glaring at him before heading out the door. I take one step and stop, just out of sight. “Fucking Christ,” I hear Alexander grumble, and within three seconds he comes around the corner and almost crashes right into me.
I smile widely at him. I left and he came running. I lift my hand and put my index finger nail in my mouth, looking up seductively at him. Just how far did your self-control go, Mr. Black? His eyes follow every one of my movements, and as he takes a step closer to me, I take one back, then we repeat the process until my back is firmly against the wall.
He bends down, his nose brushing my neck, and I shiver. “I don’t play games, Rebecca. I’m a dangerous man. I think you should remember that before you try to provoke me,” he whispers in my ear. It’s not that I didn’t know there was the possibility of him being dangerous—he practically screamed it.
“I think you are powerful, but not dangerous, Alexander,” I whisper back at him. He pulls away from me and I hate the distance immediately. He lifts his hand, dragging it lazily along the bare skin on my arm, across my shoulder and clavicle until it lands on my throat. When he applies just the smallest amount of pressure, a rush of heat blooms like a rose down below.
I’m not the kind of girl who likes normal vanilla sex; I need the man to be in control to really get my motor going, and Alexander is just the kind of guy I need. Feeling bolder than I had any right to, I slide my leg up between his thighs. The pressure on my neck increases. “Enough,” he growls at me. I stop in my tracks. it’s obvious he’s is just as turned on as me.
“Why?” I pant. “Don’t you want to have some fun? Isn’t that what you suggested at the gala?” I throw the challenge at him. His eyes burn with desire, so I flick my tongue out to run along my bottom lip. I must push him too far as he punches the wall with his free hand, making me flinch.
“For fuck’s sake, Rebecca, don’t push me,” he warns me, dangerously soft.
Not being able to help myself, and wanting to know exactly how far I can press before he snaps, I continue, “Why not? We’re both adults.” His face inches even closer and I manage to reach out with my free hand and brush it against his chest. His eyes close for a moment and I see his Adam’s apple work. Then he lets my throat go and walks away.
“What the fuck, Alexander?” I call after him, but he continues to walk. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you!” He stops and tilts his head as I rush up behind him.
“For Christ’s sake, either you stop being so bloody foolish and we have a meal together tonight, or you go to your room. Those are your two options,” he throws over his shoulder as he continues walking to the dining room. I stay right on his heels, not wanting to let this go.
I enter the dining room and see the table has been set with fine crockery with candlelight the only illumination in the room. A single red rose in a vase occupies the center of the table.
“Did you organize this?” I ask as I slide into one of the vacant seats.
“Who else would have?” he shoots back.
“Thelma, of course,” I answer.
He shakes his head. “She may have set the table, but I told her what I wanted,” he says as he takes his place opposite me. To anyone looking on from outside, it would appear as though we were on a date, but that’s hard to do when one of the people isn’t here by their own choice.
“How long are you home for?” I ask as I fill my glass with water from the crystal pitcher.
“A few days,” he answers.
