Page 20 of A Secret Escape

Marcus

I can’t take my eyes off her even for a second.

At Sapphire on Friday, she looked great.

At lunch on Monday, she was radiant in that easy, natural, girl next door kind of way.

But tonight…

She looks like she’s stepped straight out of a magazine.

Her brown hair catches the light as it cascades over her shoulders in soft waves, and that dress - God, that dress.

The long sleeves say ‘soft and sweet’, but the plunging neckline tells another story entirely, showing just enough of the curve of her breasts to make concentration impossible.

The fabric hugs her waist before flaring out into a flowy skirt that stops mid-thigh, and those black knee-high boots don’t help matters, leaving just enough bare skin between the leather and hem to make me lose my damn mind.

I picture sliding my hands under that skirt, and it doesn’t take long for that thought to travel south. I shift slightly, trying to mask the tightening in my jeans .

Forcing my gaze up to meet hers, her eyes are glowing with excitement, and when she smiles, it lands somewhere in my chest and makes itself at home.

I don’t get nervous around women – it’s never been part of the equation. I’m good at staying composed. Confident. Detached, even.

But with her?

I’m fucked.

For the two years she’s been at Catalyst, she’s always caught my attention.

Too young, too close, and too impossible to ignore.

I’ve watched her in meetings, caught her laughing in the corridor with her friends, and every time, I’ve wondered what the hell it is about her that makes it so hard to look away.

I hold the wine bottle out. “I wasn’t sure what kind of flowers you liked best, so I figured wine was a safer bet. And it doesn’t die, so there’s that.”

She laughs, the soft, musical sound instantly making the room feel warmer. “Thank you,” she says, setting the bottle on the coffee table. I watch her movement, fighting to keep my eyes from lingering on her legs.

Then I do something I hadn’t planned on. I step closer, my hand lifting to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

Her breath is heavy as her gaze falls to my lips and my knuckles trace her cheek ever so lightly.

And like a magnet with an undeniable pull, my lips are on hers, soft, sweet, and sensuous, and something tightens in my chest.

“I couldn’t wait another second to do that again,” I murmur and she lets out the tiniest little whimper that sends my pulse skyrocketing.

Her eyes look up at me, wide and hopeful, her lips parted .

“You sure you still want to go out?” she asks, a small smile tugging at her lips.

An unexpected laugh escapes my throat.

Fucking hell, this girl is going to be the death of me.

I could quite happily take her to bed now and forget everything else.

But I pull myself together, stepping back just enough to break the spell. Barely.

“I did promise you dinner,” I say.

Her smile lingers as she nods.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask, not trusting myself not to change my mind if we stand here any longer.

“Yea. Let’s go.” She steps away, grabbing her coat and bag as she lets out a big breath, and I gesture toward the door.

“After you.”

Out in the corridor, she’s locking up, and I can’t help a slight laugh.

“I’m not going to drop them this time, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she says.

“I didn’t say anything,” I shoot back, grinning.

Outside, a gentle snow is falling in soft, lazy flakes. It’s not settling, but it does add a kind of magic to the evening. The temperature is icy but manageable – or maybe that’s just the heat still searing my skin.

I reach for her hand and her fingers curl around mine like they belong there.

“I’m just down here,” I say, pointing to where my Audi is parked at the end of her street.

As we approach, I step ahead to open the passenger door, the practiced movement as natural as breathing, and yet for some reason, it feels different this time.

She slides in with a graceful ease, the hem of her dress rising up her thigh just a little more, and the sight of her settling into the leather seat awakens something primal I’d sworn I buried long ago.

I inhale sharply and walk round to the driver’s side, using those few seconds to regain my composure.

The car feels different with her in it – charged with possibility.

Her perfume mixes with the leather interior, creating an intoxicating new scent I already know I’m going to associate with this night.

The drive to the restaurant is filled with light conversation.

I tell her about my new project at work and how I’m planning to pitch a bold new direction with it, and she tells me about a prank Carter recently pulled on Stephen involving a fake HR e-mail and a mysteriously disappearing desk chair, which makes me laugh.

Every red light offers a dangerous opportunity to look at her fully, to watch the way her fingers absently trace patterns on her knee, to notice how she turns toward me when she speaks.

As we pass through the town centre, the city lights cast a romantic glow over the start of what I hope will be the perfect night.