Taken (Dark Desires 1)

"You work at night?" I asked.

"That is when I can get things done without interruptions of phones and meetings and all that."

Sure. Made sense to me. Why more businessmen didn't do it I couldn't tell you. So, like a whirlwind I ran through my apartment picking up clothes and dropping dirty dishes in the sink. I fixed my hair and put on a shirt with a lot of buttons and a pair of jeans.

I had decided that the previous day’s exhibit was a fluke. A one-time thing. I wasn't that easy and no matter how he looked at me, no matter if he took me into his strong, firm arms, no matter that I couldn't stop thinking about it all day I was determined to be a good girl.

We didn't make love again. But instead he kissed me like we had never been intimate together. He pulled me close and I could feel his heart pound in his chest beneath a breastplate of muscle. I knew what he was doing. He was making me want him. And I did. I could barely see straight by the time he left. But I wasn't sure if that made me happy or upset or mad.

No. I couldn't tell Diamond any of this. Little did I know that it would be Diamond telling me a few things about Joshua that I didn't know.

JOSHUA

This was different. If I had to predict the actions of Natasha Morgan to my future protégé at this stage in our relationship I would have been completely wrong. That doesn't happen. Not to me. I could tell that my luck had gone from good to great. How could a woman who has completely blind-sided me with her behavior be great luck? I had met my match.

After our lovemaking out in the open just steps from the kiddies playground in a slightly secluded alcove that was private enough for a picnic but not so much to be

pleasuring such a passionate partner I had resigned myself to the fact that my relationship with Natasha would burn fast and fizzle quickly.

It was just a matter of hours after dropping her off that I had begun to plan my exit strategy. It would be full of drama. I'd forget to return a phone call or two. She'd be promised an evening out where I wouldn't show up or call. A few dozen roses to work she'd forgive me and welcome me completely thinking her sex was enough to keep me coming back.

Do you know how many women thought this was the key to getting a man like me to marry them? To just give it up like they would to any bar-back, valet or grocery bagger that gave them a wink made me wonder what mothers were teaching their daughters these days.

So you can imagine my surprise when the next time I saw Natasha she had locked up the candy store.

"I'm sorry about last night." she said. Her voice was adorably embarrassed. But I have to admit I thought it was just another act. "I got caught up in the moment. I haven't been on a date in a good while, let alone anything else. You must think I'm just big ol' whore."

"What?" I laughed. "Well, I don't think that."

"Sure you don't." she said back. I could hear her voice relaxing just a little. "It's just that you helped me so much and you've been very; well, seductive with some of your gestures toward me. So I really should blame you one hundred percent for my fall from grace."

A girl who made me laugh was a rare and precious thing.

"Natasha, I don't do these things for just anyone."

"Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls."

It took me a good while to convince her I'd be on my best behavior. Finally she agreed and at the end of that second date she left me at the stoop of her apartment with nothing more than a kiss and an ache in my lower extremities.

The Universe was having a grand time making me work. But every time I saw her I felt closer to solving this mystery of Natasha Morgan. What I needed was a little inside information.

It had been about four months into our relationship and still Natasha had not given herself to me again. I knew she wanted to. I could tell by the way she got all breathy before she'd leave me and the way her eyes would glaze over just a little as she looked at me. But the girl's willpower was like steel. "When do I get to meet some of your friends?" I asked her one night while we sat in a quiet corner of Amici's. I liked that restaurant. They didn't let just anyone in and they took pride in making sure no one on the outside knew who was filling the seats there. It was romantic for her and discreet for me.

"You want to meet my friends? Well, I've only got one."

"Why is that?"

Natasha smiled and shrugged he shoulders as she took a sip of her martini.

"I don't know."

"Well, I'd love to meet your one friend."

Again, I was very surprised. In the past I've told women I want to meet their friends and they gush and go into a rant about this girlfriend or that girlfriend, making sure to tell me which one has bad breath and which one just got out of an abusive relationship and which one was totally hilarious but you can't take anything she says seriously.

But not Natasha. It was like I had told her: “By the way I have quite a hole in my sock”. She shrugged her shoulders, took another sip and batted those big blue eyes at me. She had to be a witch because I was succumbing more and more to her spell.

When she put her hand over mine on the table and just looked around, her thumb caressing the crease between my index finger and thumb I felt something.