rick-teasing bitch. I can read the
signs.” Reaching up, he gently strokes my face with the
back of his knuckles, down to my chin. His index finger
strokes my throat, and my heart leaps into my mouth as I
fight my gag reflex. He reaches the dip at the base of my
neck, where the top button of my black shirt is open, and
presses his hand against my chest.
“You want me. Admit it, Ana.”
Keeping my eyes firmly fixed on his and concentrating
on what I ha一ve to do—rather than my mushrooming
revulsion and dread—I place my hand gently over his in a
caress. He smiles in triumph. I grab his little finger, and
twist it back, pulling it sharply down backward to his hip.
“Arrgh!” he cries out in pain and surprise, and as he
leans off balance, I bring my knee, swift and hard, up into
his groin, and make perfect contact with my goal. I dodge
deftly to my left as his knees buckle, and he collapses with
a groan onto the kitchen floor, grasping himself between
his legs.
“Don’t you ever touch me again,” I snarl at him. “Your
itinerary and the brochures are packaged on my desk. I
am going home now. Ha一ve a nice trip. And in the future,
get your own damn coffee.”
“You fucking bitch!” he half screams, half groans at
me, but I am already out the door.
me, but I am already out the door.
I run full pelt to my desk, grab my jacket and my
purse, and dash to front reception, ignoring the moans and
curses emanating from the bastard still prostrate on the
kitchen floor. I burst out of the building and stop for a
moment as the cool air hits my face, take a deep breath,
and compose myself. But I ha一ven’t eaten all day, and as
the very unwelcome surge of adrenaline recedes, my legs
give out beneath me and I sink to the ground.
I watch with mild detachment the slow motion movie
that plays out in front of me: Christian and Taylor in dark
suits and white shirts, leaping out of the waiting car and
running toward me. Christian sinks to his knees at my side,
and on some unconscious level, all I can think i
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