Give Me All Of You (17 page)

“Oh shut up!” she nodded wildly. “Of course I mean every word. Why do you think I haven’t shared your bed since tha
t night in the car? You’re supposedly a smart man Hunter. Read my lips, I don’t love you. I won’t. Not ever. And I’m through with this business. Save it if you can.”

He hauled himself up to his impressi
ve height, his tanned face grim, “I’ll do my damndest to do so,” he bit out.

“I’ve no
right to but there’s one thing I’d like to ask,” she said.

He
looked past her as if she wasn’t there. “What is it?” his voice was devoid of any emotion.

The hurt was instant and crippling, sh
e fought to stay on her feet.

But she needed to say o
ne last goodbye.

Later she’d have to do the same with Hermile.
She couldn’t live with him anymore. She had to get as far away from Hunter as possible. “I want to stay here for a while, alone,” Hunter’s brows furrowed but she rushed on, “We put a lot of work into this place and I’d like to take one final look around.”

He
nodded without speaking then met her eyes, she flinched under the searing sense of loss which shone from his eyes.

Was it for her? Or was he simply pissed off that he’
d lost another employee?

“One hour Mina. That’s it. Then get off my property.”

He took off towards his car.

Minute
s ticked by after he’d gone. He’d not headed back to Bronswort mansion instead he’d taken the opposite turn … towards his old home?

She
closed her eyes against the hot sting of tears.

She loved him but
she had to do her part to save the business. Eliminating her salary would go a long way. Hopefully he’d use it to rehire some of the men he’d laid off today.

She brushed a tear away and looked around the deserted worksite.

How would she get back home? She’d come with Hunter. She shrugged, she’d make do. Besides Bronswort mansion was no longer her home and very soon Hunter would no longer be her husband.

“What are you doing here?” Hermile’s bellow shook the wooden rafters which lined the low ceiling of his library.

Mina’s kne
es quaked but she squared her chin and marched stiffly into the room. She stopped short at the sight of Josephine, sitting opposite Hermile’s desk. “Mom, I thought you’d gone home?”

It was after 10 p.m. She’d deliberately stayed away until she thought Josephine had left and Hunter wouldn’t be likely to show up.

Josephine smiled softly at her, there was a new sense of peace in her dark eyes but sadness still lingered there. “How are you doing?” she asked quietly, her voice soothing.

A rush of emotions choked her. She’d give anything to blurt out the truth. It hurt so much more than she’d thought it would. The only thing
she had to compare it to was when Josephine had left, but even that had been different. She’d been young, scared, and hadn’t understood the depth of pain behind her parent’s imploded marriage.

She didn’t have any such shield anymore.

She rubbed her arm, looked away from Josephine’s steady gaze. “I did what I had to do, mom.”

“Is that what you call it?” Hermile barged in, h
is green eyes glowed with fury. “You call quitting your job, dumping your husband, what you had to do? What kind of selfish brat did I raise?”

His outrage was so ridiculous considering the source, Mina threw her head back and lau
ghed. A hollow mirth bubbled up from nowhere, she tried to stop but couldn’t. She leaned over, wrapped her arms around her middle and roared … it turned into sobs, very soon she was bawling her eyes out. She couldn’t stop. It was as if all the pain had to get out.

Dimly she felt Josephine at her side, holding her up
.

Mina, wrapped her arms
gratefully around her mother, and rested her head on her shoulders. “Oh Mom, I love him so much but he doesn’t love me.” The words lacerated her throat, she howled even louder.

“Stop that da
mned caterwauling in this house,” Hermile said gruffly. He was beside them now, “It won’t change a thing sweetie,” this made her cry harder. “Oh shit, Mina, you make me ashamed of the stupid woman you’ve become,” he pulled her from Josephine’s grasp. “Hunter loves you. Just about admitted it this morning.”

“What?” s
he stuttered, taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes. Disgust shot through her, she shoved away from him. “You’d do anything to keep Hunter’s pockets open, wouldn’t you? You disgust me!” she cried.

Josephine jumped, came towards her again.

Mina motioned her back. “Hunter doesn’t love me. He bought me. You sold me to him to save your company,” she turned to Josephine, ignored her mother’s frantic shake of the head. “For two decades you punished mom because she made a horrible mistake. Hunter doesn’t love me, but I’m willing to bet he cares for me. More than you ever did.”

Josephine
’s dark moon face was horrified, her eyes glazed with distress. “Mina that’s not true. Hermile loves you more than anything.”

“No, Josie, not more than you. I’ve never loved anything more than you.” Hermile looked at Josephine,
whose mouth trembled with a smile, her face soft and flowing, she was more beautiful than Mina could remember. Hermile’s entire being seemed to glow from within, there was more warmth, more life in his eyes than she’d seen since Josephine had left.

What was happening? Had the damned world turned crazy?

But it wouldn’t change a thing for her, “I’m glad … I truly am, that it seems things have changed between you guys, but please,” her gaze implored them, “stay out of my life. I’ll be moving in the morning.”

“M
ina, you can’t,” Hermile cried out. He held out both hands in appeal, his eyes distraught, “we can all make this work. Please give Hunter another try.

H
e called, he’ll be arriving soon to get his stuff.”

She stared adamantly at
her father, for once facing him as an adult, “I won’t be your pawn anymore. It’s over dad.”

Mina found herself hiding at the top of the stairs much later that night, long after Josephine and her father had retired to bed. Josephine had decided to stay overnight, unwilling to ignore Hermile’s shameless pleas. As far as she knew they were asleep in separate rooms on the ground floor.

Apart for two decades
, now they wouldn’t be parted.

She rocked back on her bottom, her hands tensed around her legs as the sound of a car’s engine slowly died to silence outside.

He’d come at midnight. Hoping perhaps that they were all asleep.

So why wasn’t she? She could still slip away without anyone knowing how weak she was. How much s
he loved him. But she couldn’t.

She l
istened to him silently stride into the room. She watched him through the bannisters, her eyes ate up every nonchalant movement of his body in the soft light at the bottom of the stairs. It illuminated the breadth of his long, muscled arms, the uncompromising tilt of his head.

She waited
. Praying the puddle of darkness at the corner of the stairs would hide her as he came to the top. His room, the one she’d forced him to use, was in the opposite direction.

He didn’t pause. A
relieved breath escaped her as she watched him make his way to his room.

He stopped
halfway down the hall, his stance rigid, and before she could make a hasty retreat, he marched right up to her.

She nearly swooned, as he sto
od glowering down into her upturned eyes. His face was frightening, already swarthy the darkness gave him a diabolical appearance.

“Missed me?” he queried caustically, but there was no warmth in his voice, none of the playfulness that usually simmered beneath the surface.

She gulped, “this is still my home, I can go where I please,” it came out as a stammer.

He tilted his head to the side, “h
mm … now that would be something wouldn’t it, that a cold-hearted little witch like yourself would actually care about something other than herself.”

That hurt, she couldn’t let it pass. “Calling me names doesn’t mean you know me Hunter, it simply shows how ignorant you are.”

She could feel him stiffen beside her, he bent, broke deeper into the barrier of darkness shielding her. She flinched but didn’t retreat.

He shrugged, “y
ou may be right there but I have been mistaken before. I’d never figured you for a quitter,” his eyes grew skeptical, “but I do know why you’re hiding out here,” he finished ominously.

The urge to escape seized her. This had been a
very
stupid mistake. But she stayed rooted to the spot, pinned against every iota of better judgment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said flippantly.

The blur of his hands springing down, caught her off
-guard, he cupped her cruelly through her clothes. She tensed as a rush of traitorous blood went racing down to the pressure from his fingers.

He laughed, low and bitter. “
You want me,” he yanked her forward, she smacked against his hard chest, the breath knocked from her body. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing and grounded his hips into her femininity. There was no mistake that the reverse was also true, his bulge gouged into her belly, “you want this,” he hissed.

She opened her mouth to deny it, t
o throw back his unfeeling taunts in his face. She couldn’t … it was true. She wanted one last time with him before she picked up and left.

But she didn’t want it quietly. She wanted him to burn himself into her
soul, to make her remember and never forget. She raised steady eyes to his face. He was furious, a deep frown etched on his forehead, a silent snarl on his thin lips.

Undeterred, she reached
out with trembling fingertips, traced the line of his mouth. His scowl deepened, his eyes grew harder, but he didn’t throw off her touch.

It was enough and more than she deserved.
“Make me remember you. Always.”

The walk
down the hallway hand in hand was silent. Every step, the emotions she was feeling imprinted itself on her memory. She knew that she would never forget.

She’
d made her decision. He’d accepted it.

He was
a beautiful man, uncompromising, strong with just enough softness where she needed it. She reached out and touched his shoulders, he flicked a glance at her but said nothing. There was so much of him.

He turned and lifting her hand kissed each fingertip softly. She stared in awe at him.

By unspoken consent, they stripped off their clothing.

Wide shoulders, long muscled thighs, narrow hard hips, there was nothing about him that was soft or dainty. Her
insides began to melt. He grasped her hand and pulled her to the bed but she tore away.

He hissed a curse but she backed away until she felt the warm wood of
the wall rest against her back.

“Here, Hunter. Like the first time. Finish what you started.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He barreled down on her, hiked her up against the wall, every section of her back was plastered against the cool wood.

He held her
with one arm, the other went down to make sure that she was ready. Wetness and a soft cry of pleasure greeted his fingertips.

She thr
ew back her head and groaned as he withdrew his finger and she felt him hard and heavy begin to sink exorable into her. Holding her breath she welcomed the rush of sensations that began to cluster inside her. She quaked around him, arms latched about his shoulders, the hard muscles of his thighs supported her bottom. She’d wondered what it would be like if he unleashed the full depth and harshness of the passion she’d caught so many times in his eyes.

Now she knew. His
movements weren’t wild, instead each stroke which deepened and plundered her was controlled, immediate and savage in their precision.

She was being ravished and she loved it.
His breathing started growing harsh, awakening the last dregs of passion he was holding back.

She didn’t want that, clenching her muscles tightly around she goaded him into greater urgency. He stopped and gazed shocked down at her.

“Mina, do you know what you’re doing?” he growled.

She nodded, her tongue dry. “Make me remember you Hunter. Please.”

A shout tore from his throat and his motion grew frantic with speed, she arched her back in an effort to absorb his storm and shoved her hips against his. It was more than she could handle, it was just what she’d craved.

She gave it all up to him, every thrust of his hips, e
very rasp of his thighs, the feel of his hands cupping her bottom, all of it made her mind sing, her body throb with abandon.