“Hav—I need to talk to you.” He said it more gently this time. It came out sounding a lot more civilized than he felt, but still pretty harsh.
“If you’d excuse me? Mark and I have been working hard preparing for a media exclusive with High Note, and we’ve had an awful game of phone tag today. We’ll just be a couple of minutes trying to sort a few critical things out.”
“Sure thing,” said Don, and turned to Cindy.
“This had better be good,” Haven said, as she followed Mark. “We’re supposed to be inconspicuous.”
“I remember. Discreet.” He led her out of the ballroom, around the corner, and up a half flight of carpeted stairs to a small mezzanine area. The spot was relatively quiet and afforded at least some privacy. Also, it was about twenty-five degrees cooler here than it had been in the ballroom.
“Are you okay?” she asked, concern wrinkling her forehead.
“It was hot in there.”
“I wasn’t hot.”
“You aren’t wearing any clothes.”
She crossed her arms and glared at him. “This is awkward, Mark. We’re not supposed to be sneaking off together, leaving our dates to fend for themselves. The whole point of this is to divert any possible suspicion away from us.”
“No,” said Mark, taking a step toward her. She retreated, and he chased her back till her shoulder blades pressed against the wall behind her, an echo of that first time against her office door. She gasped, an innocent sound that nevertheless wrapped itself around his cock and tugged.
“No,” he said again, and he kissed her. Not a tentative, exploratory kiss, but a kiss into which he could pour the depth of his feelings. You are mine, and I’m telling, not asking.
For a moment she struggled. Then she gave in, and when she did, she did it completely. Molded herself against him, the length of her body easing against the length of his. She slid her hands around the back of his neck and wove her fingers into his hair as she slid her tongue along his. She opened up to him and leaned in.
It made him want to cry with relief.
12
HE PULLED BACK, held her face between his hands, and told her, “That’s the whole point. The whole point is that I like you way too much to pretend to you or myself or the world that you mean nothing to me.”
She was so startled by the kiss, by her own out-of-control lust, that it took a while for his words to sink in. At last she understood that he was telling her something big. Something real. Mark Webster was asking her for something that she knew he hadn’t been able to ask of anyone since Lyn had broken his heart.
And not only that—the thing he wanted from her was something she wanted just as much.
That was the surprise. Her belly warmed and her heart opened up. Her whole body along with her mind reached out to him, all ready to say, Yes, yes, I want that, too.
She’d loved his speech. Loved the way he’d gotten up there looking so ill at ease, as if he was wearing not only an outfit but also a role that felt wrong, and then...then, when he’d put his hand on the microphone, he’d changed in an instant. An expression, a whole new way of standing, had come over him as if he commanded not only the device in his hand but also by extension the whole room. All of them fell under his spell, the way an audience did when he played. And then he gave his speech, and it was like hearing him play. She felt him. That had been Mark to his core, to his soul, to that part of him she was most envious of, that part she was still not sure she possessed.