Timeless. Daisy Banks
The wave of his will crested over her. “No,” she said, her voice firmer than she felt. “And you can stop that, I know what you’re doing. I can’t stay.” The invidious snaking, sneaking weave of his thoughts meshed around her. The strands of his will and desire were almost visible.
“What do you need to go back for?” The sneer in his tone robbed her of any softness she might feel.
“Because that’s where I live, where I work and where I want to be! Franklyn, he expects me to cover when he’s out of town.” Her voice echoed in the huge room. The dining table could have seated twenty with ease. The rest of the room, equally as massive and opulent, overawed her. She had to leave.
“You are meant for me. I knew it the first time I saw you. Please?” He clasped her palm and bent, pressed his lips to the back of her hand.
Her desire to go melted away, but was it really her wish, or his foisted upon her? She steadied herself to search his dark eyes. “Magnus,” she breathed low. “What’s happening between us?”
“You’re mine. Destined to be with me.” He took a sip of wine, placed the glass back on the table.
Unwilling to respond to the intensity of his gaze or the impossibility of his words, she shook her head. Love at first sight just didn’t happen, ever, and she’d hardly call what had taken place between them so far loving. Romance meant soft kisses, flowers, tenderness, but what had passed between them didn’t fall into any such mold. The raw and savage power, flexing, twisting between them, tortured her, and yet she couldn’t help wanting more of him. As foolish as a moth to a flame, she still desired him, even though all her will battled against the wish to do as he said. She gulped like a diver coming up for air.
“I want you to stay, at least until next week when the others from your company come to the house,” he said. “Call your manager and tell him I want you here to arrange things for the stupid film. Tell him I said you’ll be staying.”
A wave of his determination hit her full on, rocked her back in her seat. The white linen napkin slipped to the floor. His features set into the tight, hard look she’d seen when they first met. She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think you can bully me.”
“I’m not.” His soft words lied.
“Yes, you are, or at least you’re trying to. I won’t have you bullying me.”
“Do you know anything about animals, Sian?”
What was he talking about? “Not much. I had a fish when I was small.”
A taut smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “No, not fish, I was thinking of bigger beasts.”
“No, then, I don’t.” Their discussion had become ridiculous, and she needed to leave, made to rise from her chair, but as he took her hand in his, settled back.
“Throughout the animal kingdom, when a male meets a female he wants, there is a battle of wills until eventually they either part or mate.” Magnus stroked her wrist with his forefinger.
“Oh,” she replied, staring at him. “That’s not true, and I think it’s a fairly disgusting analogy.”
“It’s not incorrect, and as for disgusting, I can’t say. All I can say is you have fought and lost. Admit it. You need me, want me, and you want to do what will make me yours.”
“Like hell!” She leaped up from the chair. “I’m going home, Magnus. I think today’s been a big mistake.” On her way from the room, she grabbed her purse from the hall table. Then she flung open the door, dashed out the tiled entrance and raced over the drive to her car. A jab at the ignition on the key fob, and the engine purred to life.
At the closed gates, she waited several minutes for them to open. They didn’t. She got out of the car and inspected the mid section of the intricate wrought iron, then the top and bottom. A slow dawning of awareness crept over her. Magnus had locked them.
He refused to let her go.
Who the hell did he think he was? A low growl formed at the base of her throat. She’d kill him if he came anywhere near her.
Rage beat in her blood as she spun the car around and drove back to the house. If he thought she’d be as stupid, soft and mushy as she’d been earlier, he was in for a big shock. Waves of the need to stay here crashed against her, but made not a speck of difference. Brakes squealing, she narrowly avoided driving into the white portico entrance to the hall. The car door crashed as she slammed it shut. Foot tapping, she stood with one finger lodged on the bell call. As the constant whine ripped through the afternoon, her other hand formed a fist.
The door opened and he stood before her. “Back again so soon?” he said in greeting.
Her clenched fist seemed to lift of its own accord and smashed into his jaw as she yelled, “Open the bloody gate!”
He caught her wrist on the downswing, clutched his jaw with his other hand. “I’ve not locked it. If you want to go, do so. But you’ll be back.”
She tried to yank her wrist from his hand but couldn’t pry her arm from his tight grip. Swinging into him, she jerked her knee upward in a survival reaction and connected with the soft tissue in his groin. Groaning, bent double, he released her.
Pain.
Good, he deserved pain. “Now open the gate, you bastard. If it’s not open when I get there, I’m calling the police.” Before he could answer, she raced back to the car, got in and drove to the gate. He’d find out she was no romantic little twerp who didn’t know the difference between a good screw and being pushed around by someone who thought they owned the planet and everything on it.
* * * *
A policeman called to her through the gates, his voice soft and soothing as though to a lost dog. “There’s a fault with the electrics, miss. Are you all right? Mr. Johansson phoned in order to tell us, he said you were a bit distressed. Late for a date in town or something, are you? The maintenance company person will be here within the hour. We’ll get you out then.”
She’d pretended sleep while she’d waited and after she’d reassured the policeman she was okay, sat with her head back on the headrest. Fifty-eight minutes later, she watched through slit eyelids as the maintenance guy in blue overalls tinkered with something in one of the stone pillars either side of the gate. Finally, the black gates swung open, and tires spinning, she sped her car through them. The policeman had gone some time ago.
Magnus was probably laughing at her, the bastard. At least he did it while nursing a bruised jaw and painful balls. Hah!
Hateful man, she’d show him. If he thought she’d be dominated by him, he’d another thought coming. She’d sort it so he’d be kept out of her head forever. Stalking into the apartment, she threw her best meeting suit on the floor as she stripped on her way to the bathroom. The hot water from the shower hit her flesh, and she sighed, letting the sharp jets make her feel clean and whole again.
Hair wrapped in a towel, another tucked tight about her, she went through to the kitchen, where she poured the largest glass of chilled white wine she’d ever had. Then she sat at her computer and stared at the screen.
The email to Franklyn rattled from her fingers.
Excellent prospects for more shots at the house near Darnwell. Mr. Johansson is willing to have them taken, and I’ve rescheduled the meeting with Richard for next week. I think we need to move quickly on this one.
Vacation is looming, so when do I get to go out with you for dinner?
She sent the email and tried to relax, but still a throb of need commanded her body. A chill aching in her heart tormented her, and despite that she hated him right now, she couldn’t deny it. Of all the men she’d ever met, only Magnus had the power to overwhelm her. And part of her wanted him to.
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