I'm alone with this man, who leaves speechless and pretty much useless. He took me in his car when I finished saying goodbye to Emma, she was fine with me leaving her there with her friends. I think she thought I was going to be spending the night with Mr Kingsley but it was the complete opposite. He offered to drop me home, which I did mind. But as soon as he starter the car his phone rang. Apparently he has to take of something call the Manor. I was too drunk to understand what he meant till I saw he huge mansion in front of me, apparently it was the hotel he owned. I knew by just looking at me I can't afford to stay a night.
He left he with his driver Sawyer who
lead me to what I assume what his
Office. Seeing the insides sobered me up quickly, I felt dirty walking on the white marbles floors with my cheap black heels. It's was a while before he came back looking more tired then ever. He had that work look on his face when he came in.
He nods towards two brown leather couches, positioned opposite each other in the bay window, with a large coffee table sitting between them when he saw me standing in the middle of his office.
"Please, take a seat. Can I get you a drink?" He drags his gaze from mine, walking towards a cabinet with various bottles of liquor lined up on top. He surely doesn't mean alcohol? I was drunk enough. I watch as he hovers at the cabinet for a few moments before turning to face me again, looking at me expectantly.
'Water?' he asks, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Oh God, don't look at me. 'Please.' I smile a nervous smile. My mouth is parched.
He collects two bottles of water from the fridge and turns back towards me.
"Myra?"His voice rolls across me,
I turn to face him. It's probably a bad idea. 'Yes?'
He holds up a glass. 'Glass?'
'Yes, please.' I smile. He must think I'm so stupid. I settle myself on the leather couch, I notice my hands shaking.
Christ, woman. Get a grip! Placing my water and a glass on the table. He sits down on the sofa opposite and crosses one leg over the other, his ankle resting on his thigh. He stretches back. He's really making himself comfortable, and the silence that falls between us.
"I like your hair"
"Thank you" i feel my colour deepen as he studies me thoughtful.
I make a grab for my water, resisting the temptation to chuck it down my front to cool me off, but very nearly do when his trouser clad thigh brushes against my bare knee. I shift quickly to break the contact, glancing out the corner of my eye to see a small smirk breaking at the edge of his mouth. He's doing this on purpose. It's too much.
'Do you have a toilet?' I ask as I place my glass back on the table and stand. I need to go and compose myself. I'm a mess.
He rises from the couch, moving back to let me pass. 'Through the room and on your left.' he says with a smile. He knows he's affecting me. The way he's smiling at me, knowingly.
'Thank you.' I step out of the small gape between the table and the sofa, my task hard as he makes no attempt to give me more space. I have to physical brush past him, and that has me holding my breath until I'm clear of his him.
I walk towards the door. His eyes are on me; I can feel them burning a hole through my tiny dress, I'm sure it was riding up my butt, I curse Emma for making me wear this. I roll my neck to try and rid myself of the goose bumps jumping onto my nape.
Stumbling out of his office, I head down the corridor before wandering through the room and staggering into the ridiculously posh lavatories. I brace myself over the sink and look in the mirror.
"Myra Pull it together!" I scorn my reflection.
"Met the Ryan, have we?"
I swing around and find a very attractive business lady, faffing with her hair at the other end of the room. I have no idea what to say, but she's just confirmed what I already suspected, he had a beautiful woman around him. When my brain fails to deliver on anything suitable to say, I just smile.
She returns my smile, amused and knowing of the reason for my flustered state, before disappearing from the toilets. If I wasn't feeling so hot and nervous, I might be embarrassed at my obvious condition. But I am hot, and I'm very nervous, i take some steady breaths and wash my clammy hands. I should have brought my bag. I could do with some Vaseline on my lips. My mouth is still dry and my lips are suffering as a consequence.
Okay, I need to get back out there, get him to drive me home. I'm completely ashamed of myself by being so affected by him. I fixed my curly hair and exit the toilets, making my way back to Mr Kingsley office. I don't know if I'm going to be able to hold off any longer; I'm just way too affected by him.
I knock before I enter, finding him still sat on the couch. He looks up and smiles, and I know now, I really have to leave. Every molecule of body and brain power I possess has been zapped from my body by his presence. And worse of all, he knows it.
I give myself a mental pep talk, making my way over to the table, ignoring the fact that he's following my every move. He leans back on the sofa in a gesture for me to squeeze past, but I don't. I take a seat on the opposite sofa, perching on the edge.
He flicks me a questioning look. "Are you okay?"
'Yes, I'm fine,' I answer shortly. He knows. "Can you take me home " I force the confidence into my voice.
He raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised by my change of approach. 'Sure.' He gets up from the sofa, striding over to his desk to collect his mobile. I gather my things, stuff them into my tiny bag and follow his gesture to lead the way.
He overtakes me, opening the door and performing an exaggerated gentlemanly bow as he holds it open. I smile politely even though I know he's playing with me and exit into the corridor, heading towards the way we came. I stiffen on a gasp when he places a hand at the small of my back to guide me.
What's he playing at? I'm trying my hardest to ignore it, but you would have to be dead not to notice the affect this man's having on me. And I know he knows it. My skin's burning all over almost certainly warming his palm through my dress I can't get my breathing under control and walking is taking every bit of coordination and effort I possess. I'm pathetic, and it's bloody obvious he's enjoying the reactions he's drawing from me. I must be quite amusing.
Annoyed with myself, I walk a little quicker to break the contact of his hand from my back, stopping when I reach the point of two possible routes.
He reaches me, pointing out across the lawns to the lit up tennis court
"Do you play?"
I actually laugh, but it's a comfortable laugh. "No, I don't."
Give me a bat, racket or a ball, then you're asking for trouble. The corners of his mouth twitch into a grin at my reaction. I smile, shaking my head in wonder at this glorious man.
"You?" I ask looking up at him
He continues through to the entrance hall, me following. "I don't mind the odd game, but I'm more of an extreme sports kinda guy." He stops, and I with him.
He looks ridiculously fit and toned. "What sort of extreme sports?"
"Snow-boarding, ski, sky diving I have a cabin up in Aspen" He watches me as he speaks, making me feel flustered. You would have to anaesthetise before I try that. I'll stick to a run every so often.
"Extreme."I say, studying this magnificent man.
"Very extreme,"he confirms quietly. My breath catches again and I close my eyes, mentally yelling at myself for being such a loser. "Shall we continue?" he asks. I can hear humour in his voice.
I open my eyes to be met by his penetrating, brown stare. 'Yes, please.'
I wish he would stop looking at me like that. He half smiles again and walks into the bar, greeting the men I saw earlier by clapping them on the shoulders as we got close to the double doors.
He starts walking towards me. 'I like your dress.' he whispers.
Holy shit, I'm out of here! 'Thanks,' I squeak, making for the door. 'I have everything I need.' I don't , but I can't stay here any longer. This man is like a sensory drain on me. 'I'll get a taxi.' I exit into the corridor, heading straight for the door.
Bloody hell, when I woke up this morning, this was the last thing I expected. Posh country mansion – with a painfully handsome owner that I had kissed to round the package off
is not part of my regular daily routine.
I find my way to the top of the stairs, bolting down at a stupid rate, considering the black stilettos I have on. I hit the parquet floor, wondering how the hell I got here. I'm a mess. I could hear him calling me but I kept on walking, if I don't get out of here who knows what would happened.