Love and Punishment

by Sorcha Mowbray

  “Of course.” Michele held the door for the client.

  “Thanks again Ms. Pearson. Mr. Granger, I hope Virtual Designs is as good an investment for you as it was for me.”

  “I’m sure it will be.” Dalton smiled and they shook across the table.

  Alone with the person who occupied too much of her thoughts Shannon prepared herself for the final onslaught of Dalton Granger’s potent sexuality. The man exuded confidence and lust, filling the air around him with an aphrodisiac of the finest quality.

  “Congratulations, Mr. Granger. You made an excellent buy.” She focused on collecting the documents to be filed with the Securities and Exchange Commission to record the purchase of Virtual Designs, a publicly traded company. Stock prices would go through the roof once the market opened on Monday morning.

  “I did indeed. I know a good thing when I see it.” The deep resonance of his voice worked its way past her protective layers of clothing to twist and pull at her nipples, as though his fingers danced across her skin. How the hell did he do that?

  Clutching her paperwork to her chest as a shield, she looked at him. Really looked at him. His dark brown hair and black walnut eyes made for an intimidating pairing, heightened by his physical mass. At six-foot-one or maybe two, Dalton existed as a superior specimen of the male form. Under the finely tailored suits he favored, he hid a body in excellent shape. The one time she’d gotten a hint of his masculine perfection had come the day before when her stiletto snagged in a grate on the street as they walked to lunch. She tottered, sure to collide with the unforgiving pavement. Instead the iron bands of his arms snaked out to catch her, pulling her hard against his muscled chest. She’d gasped in shock, from both the near miss and the current of desire winging through her from the close contact.

  Before, she’d relied on her imagination in her fantasies of the compelling man. Now, she had a wealth of sensory data to put to erotic use. Last night her dreams had included powerful biceps, a well-muscled chest, and the man’s scent. Whatever cologne he wore should be traded as liquid gold on the market. The fresh, clean smell devastated a girl’s senses and played hell on her concentration.

  Hence the long, drawn out silence while he ate her up with his eyes. Without a doubt, he made her feel like a good thing. “It would seem that way. Well, I’m sure you are eager to go celebrate your purchase.”

  She edged around the formidable threat to her good intentions. Two steps from escape, he reached out and grabbed her upper arm. Her body ignited. The crotch of her thong soaked through, verging on saturation. Her nipples poked against the delicate blouse as though they could escape their confinement. Her toes curled in her high heels. All that, and he hadn’t even kissed her.

  “I’ve no one to celebrate with. Come have a drink with me at my hotel.” His cajoling words were belied by the flame in his eyes. He would not accept no for an answer.

  Still, her professional self balked. Hell, no! Besides being a client, he was downright dangerous. The kind of man who would want to control everything. Who did control everything.

  “Yes.” Her breathy compliance flew in the face of all intelligent, rational thought. She did not give up her power. Not since she wrestled it from her overbearing father in college. Disowned and disinherited for refusing to marry the suitor he had picked for her—as if they lived in the 1800s or something—she had scraped and struggled to make it on her own. She’d been poor as hell, but unequivocally in charge.

  “Excellent. Michele, please take these papers to Ms. Pearson’s office and bring Shannon her coat.” His feral smile sent shivers down her spine, but resistance was futile.

  Michele wrested the pages from her grip and departed. When had she reappeared, anyway? His gaze drifted over Shannon in another thorough sweep.

  “Mr. Walters had it right. You do need to relax.” His grip still restrained her but gave her tense muscles a gentle squeeze.

  “I am quite capable of relaxing.”

  “Hhhmmm. We’ll see.” The silence surrounded them for a moment as though he tested her will.

  Should she try to convince him? Prove to him she matched his mental strength? No, it would be pointless. She’d fall short, and she knew it.

  Her assistant returned bearing outerwear.