Charles paced the confines of his office, berating himself for acting so foolishly last night. Fiona was a good woman, a kind soul and she didn’t deserve the lust that had come over him last night. He should have kept his hands off of her.
But good grief, she’d been so beautiful. And the intense desire in her eyes…it had made him lose control. Which was more than half the problem. He never lost control! He was always in control! He prided himself on his ability to control his world, to even manipulate things to his or his bank’s advantage! Oh, he knew he couldn’t manipulate world events, but when things happened, he took control and ensured that he profited.
Running a hand over the back of his neck, he tried to figure out where he’d gone wrong. Probably from the first moment she’d stepped out of his car and had fallen in love with his house. It was a good house, but he’d honestly never seen it through her eyes. She had shown him aspects of the old mansion that he hadn’t recognized before. And that had given him a glimpse into himself as well.
He had to make this right. She wouldn’t marry him, which was another part of the issue. Fiona was a free spirit, not one to tie herself down to one man. But he could damn well apologize for what he’d done.
Thinking back, something he hadn’t been able to stop himself from doing over the past several hours, he suddenly remembered that moment. That startling moment when she’d stiffened in his arms. He leaned over his desk, bracing his hands wide as he berated himself mentally. She’d been a virgin! Damn him! And he’d lost control! He’d been so overcome with lust for her slender body that he hadn’t even slowed down. He hadn’t made it good enough for her first time!
Walking out of his office, he snapped at his assistant, “Cancel my appointments this afternoon.”
He didn’t see the astonished look in her eyes as he walked briskly towards the elevators. Nor did he see the anger because his assistant preferred schedules and organization. She liked things to operate properly, the way they had been since she’d walked into this bank several years ago. Charles Henson was not acting normally, she thought. But she picked up the phone and started canceling his appointments. Again. She didn’t like it, but she also knew that her boss had his reasons. Which would probably be brilliant once he cared to share them with the rest of the world. She was continuously surprised by how that man’s mind worked.
Charles sped down highway ten, unconcerned with the speed limit or even the rude gestures other drivers gave him as he weaved through the traffic. He just knew he had to get to Fiona quickly and make things right. Or as right as he could, after he’d stolen her virginity.
Damn, he still couldn’t believe that someone as beautiful as Fiona, someone with as much energy, almost endless vitality, hadn’t had sex before last night. He smiled as he remembered her screams when he’d brought her over the edge to a climax. He knew she hadn’t been faking it either. He’d felt her climax throughout her whole body. His own body hardened, just at the memories of her slender, full breasted body pressing against his, her heat wrapped around his erection. He almost groaned with the pain of his instantaneous need as he turned into her apartment complex. He parked his car and jumped out, walking with a determined stride towards her apartment. He saw other people get out of his way and he suspected that he looked intimidating, but he didn’t give a damn. All he knew was that he needed to make this right for Fiona. If she wouldn’t marry him, he had to…No. She had to marry him. She’d been a virgin. It was now his responsibility to make this right with her. And marriage was the only way.
Ringing her doorbell, he smiled with triumph as he thought through his arguments. Yes, she would be his wife. It might drive him crazy to have her as his wife, but it would be heaven as well. Having her in his house…yeah, he liked that idea. A lot! She would preside over that mausoleum and make it into something special, something more alive. She would bring sunshine into that old house.
“Come on in!” he heard her call out.
Charles pushed the door gently, walking tentatively into her domain. He could smell the strawberries and cream scent before his mind recognized that she was in the shower. What the hell? She was letting someone into her apartment while she was showering? Was the woman crazy?
Okay, so he was thinking about Fiona. Yes, she was crazy. And beautiful and drove him nuts. But he would protect her. He’d make sure that she never allowed strangers into the house when she was showering, that was for damn sure!
He closed the door and walked deeper into her apartment, thinking of her soft and warm and pink from the hot water.
“Sorry I’m running late, Pam. I’ll be out in a minute. Go ahead and read what I’ve got so far and let me know what you think.” The water shut off a second later. “I feel…” she hesitated and Charles froze, waiting to hear what she might say, “inspired,” she finished off with a laugh. “Anyway,” more muffled bumps and thuds. Charles pictured her stepping out of her bathroom in a towel, the droplets of water from her shower beading on her pale skin and his body hardened even more.
Looking at her computer, trying to get the image out of his mind, he focused all of his attention on the words on the monitor.
He tied her hands over her head, stretching her out for his perusal. He could see her glistening…”
Charles’ eyes snapped into tighter focus, glancing over at the bedroom doorway where more muffles could be heard. He leaned over and read some more, fascinated by the words. The more he read, the more his body hardened. This was…he read further down…damn, she was reading erotica! And pretty damn good erotica!
He looked at the desk, seeing all the notes in Fiona’s handwriting. A thought occurred to him but he found it hard to believe that he was correct. Could Fiona have written this? He picked up a yellow sticky note, reading the words then looked down at the text. Sure enough, the phrase on the sticky note was right there in the text. He kept reading, thinking how much he wanted to do this to Fiona, to see her own body writhing like this underneath his eyes. He wanted to run his hands down her legs, to see her begging him with her eyes to…
“So what do you think? It’s just a rough draft but…” she stepped out of her bedroom, pulling yet another one of those cute, sexy little sweaters over breasts that were more than tempting. His eyes locked onto hers, his body throbbing with an intensity he didn’t know was possible.
“Charles!” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”
She walked over to her computer and slapped the laptop closed. “You weren’t…” she looked around, seeing the sticky note attached to his fingers and swallowed. “You weren’t reading that, were you?” she whispered.
She prayed that he would tell her that he’d just arrived, that he hadn’t seen anything on her computer screen. Oh goodness, please don’t let Mr. Conservative and the Most Amazing Lover In The World have seen her story! No, this simply couldn’t be happening.
His eyes told her that it was indeed happening. “Um…well, you see…” she tried to come up with an explanation. “My friend writes these novels, you see and…” she knew he wasn’t believing her. His eyes looked down at the sticky note still attached to his finger and it was more than obvious that she had written the story, not a friend.
“Fiona,” he said, his voice husky and his eyes heated with that same need that he’d tried to fight last night. And lost the battle. He wasn’t even trying to fight it this time. “Come here,” he ordered, but he didn’t wait for her to follow his command. He knew she wouldn’t. For some reason, she was too horrified by what he’d just discovered to move.
He didn’t mind. He stopped right in front of her, lifting the sticky note up so it was in her line of vision. “Did you write this?” he asked softly but with that same, deep voice that sent shivers down her spine while the feelings pooled lower in her stomach, in a secret place that only Charles had discovered.
“Well, what…” she stammered, not sure what to say. Would he be disgusted with her? Did she care? If he was, she should just ignore him because, really, she loved writing those stories. They fulfilled a need deep down inside of her that nothing else seemed to be able to fill.
But yes. She cared. She cared very deeply. This was Charles, after all. This was the star of many of those stories! She’d created fantasies around Charles, working them out in her mind and wanting so desperately to be with him.
But again, this was Charles. Ultra-conservative, meticulous, regimented and rule-follower Charles. He wouldn’t like anyone of his acquaintance doing something as un-cultured, such as writing erotica.
Instead of denying it once again like she so desperately wanted to do, she lifted her chin and brazened it out. “Yes. I wrote it. I thought up every little part of the scene and the plot.” Defiantly, she looked up into his eyes. “I’m not going to stop either.”
Charles wanted to laugh at her. Yes, he should probably tell her that it wasn’t appropriate, but hell, he was just too turned on. His little Fiona had a very vivid imagination!
“You got it wrong,” he said and turned slightly to put the sticky note back onto her desk, carefully making sure that it would stay in place and not fall to the floor.
Fiona looked at him, confused. Why wasn’t he telling her that she should be spending her time doing something more appropriate? Why wasn’t he explaining how proper ladies didn’t think of such things, much less write about them? Or even worse, why wasn’t he storming out of her tiny apartment and telling her that they could no longer associate with each other. He was a banker, after all. He had to maintain a very pristine reputation in order for others to trust him with their money. “Above reproach!” as her grandfather said whenever she stepped out of what he considered correct boundaries for how a lady should comport herself.
But then his words struck her and her mind went into battle mode. “What do you mean? I didn’t get anything wrong.”
He chuckled softly even while his arm was wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer. “You have a few details that aren’t exactly right,” he explained again a moment before his mouth swooped down and covered any argument she might have.
Fiona gasped but he took that breath from her as his mouth devoured hers. His tongue moved into her mouth, mating with hers and she trembled at the erotic invasion. She berated herself once more for thinking that this man probably didn’t know how to kiss. Goodness, he was good at this!
But then his hand moved up to cup her breast, his thumb zinging along her already sensitive nipple and she cried out, pressing herself closer to him.
Charles didn’t need any other permission. With a groan, he swept her up into his arms and carried her into her bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.
After placing her unceremoniously in the middle of her bed, he whipped his blue, silk tie off and wrapped it around his hands. “Now I’ll show you how it really should be done,” he said with wicked intent in his eyes.
Fiona watched with fascination as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, licking her lips and her whole body trembled in anticipation. Oh yes!