Her Billionaire, Her Wolf--The Novel(2)

"Okay...I think that's the best you can expect given the circumstances," said the white shirted man behind Lou.

"Now, turn around and leave," he finished as he released his hold upon the man's neck.

Lou sagged slightly and Sara thought he might faint where he stood. Instead, he took a ragged breath and staggered toward the exit as the crowd parted before him, all eyes turned to the spectacle. His companion quickly followed suit as he hurried after the large man disappearing through the door.

Amber eyes held her own in an intense gaze, then the man that now stood before her said, "You surprised me." His tone was quizzical, as if he had not expected to be surprised, as if other people rarely surprised him.

"I'm sorry," Sara replied, her own voice shaking.

"Don't be," he answered, then took her arm and said, "Come on."

Almost stumbling to keep up with his brisk gait, Sara felt a thrill flutter through her. The object of every lunch hour's thoughts was trying to help her.

He nodded to the barman as they went and said, "Send my affairs upstairs."

Without waiting for a reply, or even a second glance behind him at all the paperwork he had strewn across the booth's tabletop, Sara's rescuer led her down a corridor. She recognized it as the one leading to the restaurant's men's and ladies' rooms and her heart sank just a little.

Suddenly she was sure he only wanted to show her the way to the bathroom while he went somewhere more quiet to finish whatever it was he worked on each midday.

Except that they marched right past the bathroom doors to the corridor's end where a single door was marked plainly, No Admittance--Staff Only.

Without missing a beat, the man in white opened the door and gestured that Sara should step within. The doorway gave onto a stairwell leading upward and, together, they went up to the next floor where a second door stood closed, this one marked Manager's Office.

Again, the man did not hesitate as he opened the door and waited for Sara to step inside.

A corpulent man was seated at a desk, his own paperwork before him, and he jumped with surprise that made his jowls wiggle as Sara came to a standstill, unsure what to do after having barged into his office without even knocking first.

"Yes?" he said, then looking past her, just as quickly followed by, "Oh!"

Sara's rescuer walked past her, his stride as confident as ever and said, "Out. Now."

The manager jumped to his feet and said, "Oh yes...of course, sir."

Sara noticed that where before his cheeks merely wiggled, now they positively quivered as he hastily went out the door through which they had just come.

Her jaw dropped down as the white shirted man walked past her and began tugging open cabinet doors, apparently looking for something, and appearing as if he owned the place.

Then it hit her.

"Are you the owner?" she asked.

He stopped what he was doing, then straightened, turning to her.

"Hmmm...that depends on how you look at it," he replied.

Sara hesitated, then said, "I mean, it's not that I'm not grateful. I am. I just can't help wondering who can do that. I mean, just tell people what to do and they do it, no questions."

Amber eyes turned to regard her. In them she thought she saw hints of orange, or maybe very light green. It was hard to say, except that the color was far lighter than brown eyes had any right to be. It was unearthly.

"Does it matter?" he asked, frowning.

His frame was massive. Sara had always been able to make out that he was a muscular, very fit man. But, as she had always seen him seated with his back turned to her, she had not been able to appreciate to what point his chest was broad with a carry to his heavy shoulders that looked worthy of wearing a knight's cloak. No, a king's cloak.

What kind of crazy thinking is this? she asked herself.

"No," she said, "It doesn't matter. I appreciate what you did back there and what you're doing now. I was about to die from embarrassment in front of all those people."

He came closer to her, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, relaxed. But, she was sure she could see living fire smoldering in his gaze as he looked at her.

"Embarrassed or not, that didn't stop you from slapping him," he said, coming even closer to her.

Sara tried looking away, searching for something else to focus on, something less dangerous, but his eyes held her like lodestones. He was close enough that she could see his lashes, so very long and thick framing those exquisitely beautiful eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," she stammered under his unwavering scrutiny.

"Don't be sorry," he said as his body neared to the point where Sara could feel the heat of him.

It's like standing next to a bonfire, she thought, her senses tightening like clock springs in his proximity. Crazily, all she could think of was that given the chance, she would gladly throw herself onto the blaze.

His voice dropped to nearly a whisper as he said, "I thought it showed your mettle."

The rhythm of her breathing quickened as she considered his words. Something about the way he spoke...somehow slightly old fashioned, archaic even.

His hands lifted and Sara felt strong fingers at her shirt buttons. Her breath stopped as she realized he was undoing them, one by one, while his eyes never left hers.

"Don't move," he said and Sara felt as if his words held the power to hold her fast no matter what his fingers did.

"This simply will not do, will it?" he said as she felt her shirt fall open. Cool air slipped by the inferno of his gaze and slid across her belly. It felt like a lover's caress as it touched where the cocktail had gone through to her skin, moistening her flesh.

And at her apex, despite her, because of him, moisture gathered hot and thick under her skirt and between her thighs.

A finger traced across her flesh and she watched in amazement as he lifted it to his mouth.

With a sigh he closed his eyes and licked his fingertip, tasting the remnants of the virgin cocktail and whatever alchemy it had worked in tandem with Sara's skin.

Then, the lights of his eyes blazed as he opened them, pinning her once more in his intensity.

"Now, turn around," he said.

Without even considering it, Sara turned and just as quickly felt the heat of his body radiating upon her back. She trembled as she thought of his eyes taking in every contour of her silhouette.

"Don't think it has gone unnoticed. For almost two months, you have come to perch like a little bird at the bar and peer at me through the mirror. As if I would not notice...as if you thought you were safe.

"You were wrong."

With hands that gripped like iron manacles, he seized her wrists from behind and pressed himself against her.

Sara gasped and said, "Please don't hurt me."

And from very close, the touch of his lips against her ear, he said, "Then, don't disappoint me."

With no warning, the scents of a pine forest rose in Sara's nostrils. It was a rich odor, full of life, full of desire. Yet, somehow, it spoke of darkness and violence lying in wait as if nature itself had suddenly invaded the manager's office.

What in the hell is this?

He spoke again and his voice had taken on a rougher sound, deeper, heavy with arousal.

"The taste of your desire has been distracting me every day for weeks, the scent of you filling my thoughts. What is about to happen will hurt...yes, it will. But you have asked me for it each and every day.

"Acquiesce and your pleasure will know no bounds. Or, with a single word, deny me and go back to whatever life it is you lead."

His words carried such weight in them. Even spoken in that rough, low tone, Sara felt them caress her body like iron hands shrouded in velvet.

Without understanding how she had come to a decision, Sara replied, "I...accept."

There was no response. Only silence from the man holding her wrists, his body tight against her back. Then, low on her body, just above her bottom, she felt his length pressing against her. It was like a branding iron and her breath quickened as she felt him growing thicker, harder.

"The scent of you...I must taste it. I must know it...."

His voice was a low growl. Suddenly, his hands released her wrists and Sara felt the blood rushing in, her fingertips tingling.

Then, without warning, a white handkerchief obscured her vision. Cool and soft, it was certainly of silk and she did not move as he drew it tight and tied it behind her head.

She could see nothing.

"Now, don't move...not a single step, or this is over." His whisper curled around her and Sara held her breath as she felt his hands drop to the zipper of her skirt.

Then, it was falling away and strong hands drifted across her bottom. She heard an intake of breath, then he murmured, "So delectable...."

A finger slipped under the edge of her panties. They were nothing more than simple white cotton, relatively sheer. She had never intended for anyone to actually see them, let alone the man breathing deeply just behind her.

His finger traced its way along one cheek, moving slowly, lusciously. Then, he continued to follow the line of white fabric, slipping along until he arrived at Sara's inner thigh.

She gasped. Sara knew her underwear was soaked through, her core aching with desire from the very instant that her rescue had turned to something else. Something that she never dared dream of when thinking of the gorgeous man from her lunch hour.

But, admit it...you've wanted him from the very first moment you saw him. Like a schoolgirl, he has become your obsession.