Authors: Leeann Whitaker
I swallow, looking at the tall bookshelf behind his head to give my eyes a brief break. It’s full of thick black and red volumes.
“Why haven’t you drunk this?” He holds out the bottle of green liquid that Sara gave me. “It’s a simple tonic to help alleviate your symptoms. It won’t kill you,” he says firmly.
I have a better remedy that will alleviate my symptoms right now, and it is not that tonic Mr Knight
.
“What’s in it?” I utter.
I take the bottle, unavoidably gawping at a small section of his skin beneath his V-neck. I take my eyes away, to see his breath-taking lips pout. God, he knows. It’s so obvious, I may as well be stood here with my tongue out.
“Come Elizabeth, drink your tonic, and I’ll fix you coffee.” He stands, beaming shrewdly, placing his glasses on the desk.
He waits for me to drink as I swish the fluid around. I don’t want to think this way, but I’m wary of it. His eyes scold, unimpressed.
“Here, hand it to me.” He waves his fingers.
I place the bottle in his hand and his skin brushes mine, delicately. His accidental touch, sends a tidal rush of desire throughout my body.
“I’ll drink some first, then will you trust it is exactly what I say it is?” I nod, biting my cheek as his thumb glides seductively across my wrist.
He unscrews the small cap, and tips a quarter into his mouth. His lips cover the rim in slow-motion; lips that I want on me. I’m incapable of blinking, what I’m seeing cannot be disturbed. Submerged in state of utter need, I imagine him caressing me tenderly with them, like what he’s doing with that bottle right now.
He hands the tonic to me, glistening wet around the rim. He watches with great interest, as I place it against my bottom lip and pour. It’s quite warm and syrupy. Tastes like Crème de menthe, and coats my throat pleasantly.
“See, if I wanted to harm you Elizabeth, I’ve had ample opportunity to do so.” He opens the door for me, and I follow him into the living area.
“Please, sit.” He pulls a chair out from under the excessively big dining table, and goes into the kitchen.
“Do you entertain often?” I ask, quite normally.
“Yes, of course.”
Great. I’m so hopeless at small talk
. “Do you take sugar?” He asks.
“Yes.”
He takes a selection of sugars in a crystal bowl out from beneath the green granite, and places them on the island. I’m kind of awestruck. I’m sat in some multimillion pound penthouse, and Mr Knight is making me coffee.
Suck it in Liz
.
“So” I try not to shout, but he’s a good fifteen feet away. “What’s Washington and the Big Apple like? I mean, is it as chaotic as London.”
Jeez Liz. Shut up. If all that’s going to come out of your mouth is verbal diarrhoea, be silent
. I inhale, hoping he doesn’t find me as ditzy as I find myself.
“Why Miss Lovell, I do not believe I have discussed such details with you yet.” He smirks wickedly, and I sink into the chair.
Oh that’s it. I throw in the towel. This is a freaking nightmare.
“Elizabeth… calm down,” he beams. “I told you I don’t bite.”
Full of shame, I glance through the wall of windows. Each one is coated with a tint. The view is stunning. I can nearly see the whole of city from here. Tower Bridge. The river Thames. The old and new London, across the horizon.
“Where am I?” I finally ask the question I should have asked long ago.
“It’s one of my pit-stops in this country. I travel frequently, and like my own place,” he says.
Okay. He’s boasting now. Of course his has several of these properties all over the globe. He probably owns a castle somewhere too.
“So, I’m where exactly?” I ask again, peering at the grey sky.
“You can’t work it out from the view?” He sounds surprised. “Look,” he orders. “We’re on the sixty-third floor of the Shard.” He glides his hand from window to window.
Sure we are.
What a silly question Liz. I do apologise Mr Knight. Liz, you’re in the penthouse in one of London’s most famous buildings, get a grip.
Slyly, I watch him. He pulls down one of the handless cupboards to reveal a state-of-the-art, the whole shebang coffeemaker. He takes out a tiny espresso cup, and a cappuccino style mug.
“What would you like?” He asks. “I think espresso.”
Okay, that’s dig number one for our Aroma encounter.
“After last night you’ll need a pick me up.” There it is, dig number two.
I won’t tell him I’m not a fan of espresso. I guess I do deserve those jibes.
He brings my coffee and sugar over to the table. I’m hung-over dehydrated, and don’t think espresso will help. But I do need fluids, so rummage around the crystal bowl, and take out a sachet of Demerara. I rip, tip, and stir, then lift the cup to my mouth.
“Aww.” I burn my lip.
“My-my-my Elizabeth… you’re impatient aren’t you.”
Oh, you have no idea of my impatience Mr Knight.
He takes his cool thumb and strokes it across my lip. I close my eyes for a moment, melting into the back of the chair with a sigh. He smirks, then sits back. As though touching me in such a sexual way was a normal thing to do. But it wasn’t. I now have the need to throw myself at him. Hell, my self-control is fading fast.
“Are you feeling okay Elizabeth?” He’s toying with me.
God. Please stop Mr Knight.
“Hmm yes… I’m fine.” I notice he hasn’t made himself coffee. “Do you not like coffee?” That was a suitable question to dampen my lusty instincts.
Our knees nearly touch as he adjusts position in his seat, and I unintentionally flinch. Why is it so impossible to hold a conversation with him? I’m right back to square one here. Eyes fleeting in all directions, trying not to quiver and drool. My temperature is soaring dangerously high. And there’s this hellish desire that needs to be put into action, but I haven’t got the nerve to do it.
“Not really,” he says. “I require something with a bit more substance,” he adds, his face completely unreadable.
What does he mean: normal substance, or naughty substance? Hmm, he’s not giving me nothing to go off. Jeez. What the hell is going on here?
“Soup?” I almost squeal.
He sniggers. “I like soup, if it contains the right ingredients.”
He gazes curiously for a time with his head resting against his hand.
Okay Liz. Time to find out where your phone is now. Then you can leave, and get back to reality. This can never work if you can’t function around him.
“I’ll have Sara fetch your bag in a moment,” he says as though he can read my mind. “First, I would like you to tell me why you behaved that way last night?”
I shut my eyes, shamefaced. I don’t want to think about it. Some things I remember, and some things I don’t. I’m going through the morning after the night before humiliation, and want to forget the whole thing.
“Do you not remember Elizabeth?” He better not be enjoying this. “Asking me to kiss you?” I burn red, and cover my face. “It’s fine… it’s to be expected. I serve alcohol; alcohol and pressure don’t mix well.”
It’s not fine at all. Of all the people in this world, I didn’t want Mr Knight to see me paralytic. Nathan, fair enough. He’s got me home in the past, and I’ve done the same for him. But the gorgeous, smoking-hot bachelor of the city, does not need to dealing with comatose hormonal messes such as myself.
“So…why did you bring me back here?” I ask, wetting my nervous bottom lip.
“Well, your friend and my employee disappeared… and I didn’t know your address.” He shrugs casually. “What kind of friend is this Nathan anyway?” He asks, with a crumpled brow.
Oh no. I really don’t know how to phrase it. He’s just a friend. He’s a friend who I used to sleep with. He’s a friend I lost my virginity to, so we’re kind of bound forever.
Liz, don’t answer.
“Do you have a past together?” He asks in a demanding tone.
He’s extremely pushy, and his commanding side is kind of sexy. But still I don’t want to go into detail.
“Well?” He presses.
“Yes,” I sigh. “I have a past with Nathan.” I hang my head a little. “We’re just friends now though.”
One of his golden eyes widens to study me. “Fuck buddies… the most destructive kind of relationship there is.”
Well, that was a bit over the top, and damn right rude.
“Look, I have to call Cate, she’s probably called me in as a missing person by now.” I peer around the penthouse. “And I have work tonight.”
He curves over. Our knees clash, and invisible sparks fly.
“I have taken care of everything,” he says, so close his breath tingles my cheek.
“What do you mean?” My voice fractures with sexual fear.
“I’ve let your friends know you’re safe, and will be returning home shortly,” he explains like it’s perfectly okay to do that. “I’ve also had a chat with your boss, Harry… nice guy.”
What the hell
. He’s been in my bag. In my phone. Has he called my mother too?
“I’ve told him you’re stressed, and he’s given you some time off.”
“I’m sorry,” I scowl in astonishment.
He leans back in displeasure with a hard expression because I’m not being thankful. I see his athletic chest expand. My eyes are addicted to him, but shit, I should be furious. In fact, I should be alarmed right now.
“I’m sorry if I have took things too far.” He curves over again. “I thought it was better to let them know where you were.”
He’s right I suppose. I’m just not sure where he’s going with this. I offer a faint smile. He’s managed to make me feel guilty. He’s a dab hand at this reverse psychology malarkey.
“It’s okay,” I sigh. “As long as they know I’m safe. Nathan?”
He whirls his pupils. “Yes, yes,” he huffs. “Sara explained everything… and he was ever so concerned for you.”
“Is that sarcasm?” I grin with a tilt of my head.
“No, I’m being serious,” he replies bluntly. “He was actually very concerned.”
“Oh.”
I fiddle with my hands on my lap. Out of the blue, he cups them with his. I peer down at them feeling and fondling my skin. Each finger taking a turn to run up to my wrist. He’s cool, like his circulation doesn’t function correctly. I should be thinking right now, is he ill or something? But the truth is, his skin on mine is making me seethe to the point of madness. I wriggle my butt on the leather, finding it difficult to keep my hips still.
“Elizabeth.”
Why does he call me that?
“Liz, please… you make me sound like I belong in a care home.”
“Elizabeth,” he says, adamant. “I need to discuss something with you; a matter that concerns us.” His eyes are so unforgiving. “Do you have a faint heart?”
My eyelids bat slowly. He’s being so mysterious. Yes, my heart’s faint right now, for him. Why won’t he just kiss me?
“Do you have feelings for me?” He asks. “Because I have for you, and I need to know if that’s mutual.”
Whoa
. Mr Rich has just told me he likes me. I look like crap, have the hangover from hell, and he can, and probably has, laid every bimbo in the city. I’m stunned. I’m so amazed, I’m totally lost for words.
“Elizabeth?” He wakes me from my stupor. “I have a very important role to play in the city. There’s a hell of a lot of people depend on me, and there is legality that must be complied with. Even in my personal life.” He’s making this all sound very business.
“Okay.” I pucker my brow.
“I will protect you, and use all the resources I have, doing so.”
“Protect me from what?” I choke up and swallow down the confusion.
He moves his hands from mine, almost deflated I’m quizzical about this. “You need to answer my question first,” he says, firmly. “I need to be able to trust you.”
He waits as I become engulfed by uncertainty. He’s just this second told me he feels things for me, and now wants me to do the same. It’s not easy to do; tell someone you hardly know that you like them. Lust for them. My jaw falls open and kind of hangs there of its own accord.
“Elizabeth,” he bites. “It’s not hard to say… a yes or no will do.”
“Yes,” I say quietly, snapping my lips together.
Satisfied, he breathes out with a smile. “Wasn’t so hard was it?” I nod very slowly. “Right that’s settled then.” He moves away.
Why isn’t he kissing me already?
“Sara,” he calls.
Sara trots in. “Yes.” She hands me my boots.
“Call maintenance; I want the car warmed up… I’m going to be taking Miss Lovell home. Oh, and would you please fetch Miss Lovell’s handbag.” Sara dips her head and does exactly what she’s told.
Did that just happen? Instead of ravaging me in bed, he wants to take me home? I scowl the scowl of all scowls.
“Elizabeth, all will become clear. I shall meet you in the car downstairs… Sara will take you.” He gets up and disappears into his office as I pull my boots up.