The Secretary's Bossman Bargain

His eyes glimmered dangerously with something. Something frightening. A promise. A request.

Her heart flew like the wind inside her, bouncing between her ribs, almost lifting the tips of her feet from the ground. Warily she passed through the bridge of his arm, one word’s haunting echo resounding in her mind. And for the dread that began to take hold, it might have been a death sentence.

Later.

Fifteen minutes later, after a brisk “Bienvenidos a Mexico” from the aduanales, they were settled in the back of a silver Mercedes Benz, their luggage safely tucked in the trunk.

“A Garza Garcia, si?” the uniformed driver asked as he eased behind the wheel.

“Por favor,” Marcos said.

His palm tingled. The one he’d touched her with. The one that had reached out to cup the lovely curve of her waist and caused Virginia to back away. From his touch.

Frowning, he checked his watch—it was ten past midnight. Wanting had never been like this. You wanted a watch, or a house, or money, but wanting this particular woman was no such whim. It was a need, something pent-up for too long, something so valued you were hesitant to have, or break, or tarnish, or hurt.

The car swerved onto the deserted highway and Virginia tipped her face to the window, lightly tugging at the pearls around her neck.

“You had a decent trip, Señor Allende?” their driver asked.

“Yes,” he said, stretching out his legs as far as he could without bumping his knee into the front seat.

Miles away, the distant core of the city of Monterrey glowed with lights. The sky was clear and veiled with gray, its shadow broken by a steady stream of streetlights rolling by.

“It’s lovely here.” Virginia transferred her purse to the nook at her feet then tapped a finger to the window. “Look at the mountains.”

Her skin appeared luminous upon every brisk caress of the streetlights, and in the shadows her eyes glittered uncommonly bright. They sparkled with excitement.

He felt a tug at his chest. “I’ll show you around tomorrow in daylight,” he said curtly.

Her eyes slid over to his, grateful, alive eyes. “Thank you.”

A heroic feeling feathered up his chest, and he pushed it aside.

> During a lengthy quiet spell, the driver flicked on the radio and soft music filled the interior of the car. Virginia remained way over on the other end of the seat.

Not near enough…

He studied her figure, becoming fixated on the rounded breasts swelling under her clingy dress, the curve of her thigh and hip and small waist. Swirly black bits of hair tickled her shoulders. Her long, shapely legs had a satin shine to them, inviting him to wrap them around his body and spill days and weeks and months of wanting inside her.

He whispered, in a low murmur that excluded the driver, “Are you afraid of me?”

She stiffened. Pale, jade-green eyes rose to his for a second before her lashes dropped. “No. Why would you ask?”

Her shyness brought out the hunter in him, and it took effort on his part to keep under control. Go slowly with her…His heart began to pound. He patted his side. “You could come a little closer.”

Ducking her head to hide a blush, she smoothed her hands along the front of her dress. Then she flicked a tiny knot of fabric from it. “Just haven’t traveled in ages.”

“You cringe at anyone’s touch, or merely mine?”

She blinked. “Cringe? I’d never cringe if you…touched me.” The words touched me hovered between them like a dark, unleashed secret, an invitation to sin, and when Marcos at last responded to that, the thick lust in his voice was unmistakable. “You moved away when I urged you out of the plane. And when I helped you into the car.”

“I was surprised.” Her throat worked as she swallowed. Her eyes held his in the darkness. “I told you to tell me what to do.”

She was whispering, so he whispered back.

“And I asked you to come closer just now.”

A tense moment passed.