An Acute Attraction

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An Acute Attraction Page 6

by A. J. Walters


  Oh my freaking gawd, I’m going to turn all Stacey Soloman I know I am. Youtube her, she’s a shrill Essex girl that somehow made it big on TV in the UK!! Giving myself a mental talking to, I manage to actually say something at least half articulate.

  “I am glad you approve Mr Sanders and now I know that piece of information about you, I may use it more in the future. And may I say, you don’t look too bad yourself Sir. However, I reckon I will have to act as bodyguard to you tonight, protect you from the hoards of women that will be there this evening. So I may have to throw myself at you at some point during the night, for your own safety and wellbeing of course.”

  I attempt desperately to keep my face straight, but can’t for long as I start to get face ache! I wink at him and he throws an arm across the back of my shoulders leading me down the corridor. I wrap my arm around his waist and it takes all of my effort not to place my hand on his solid buttock.

  “You can throw yourself at me anytime Miss Chambers.” Oh bother it; I give his bum a squeeze.

  I had not given it much thought as to how we were going to get to the venue, but I expect that Marc would like a drink so won’t be driving us there. I am about to ask him when I see a car turn on to the car park and pull up in front of us. Holy cow! The chauffeur walks to our side of the vehicle and holds open the door to the Bentley GT.

  “Did you arrange this?” I ask him in astonishment

  “I would like to say yes, but no. The University organised for us to be taken there and in some style by the looks of it, they have wonderful taste I must say,” he says with a ‘boys and his toys’ kind of grin on his face, I am half expecting him to start stroking the bonnet like a well loved family pet.

  Marc presses his hand to the small of my back as I slide onto the cream leather back seat. Once Marc has climbed in after me, he takes my hand and links our fingers together and his sensuous eyes take all of me in.

  “You really do look beautiful. You did choose well, I shall have to keep you close to my side I reckon.”

  I squeeze his hand in response. “I think I have a couple of Thank you’s to make. Firstly for the amazing lingerie, I have never even been into a shop for anything so luscious. How…or why did you buy them?”

  Never taking his emerald green eyes off mine he answers, “I knew you wouldn’t think of buying it for yourself. You have never had a reason to in the past and your previous partner didn’t see past his own nose to realise how amazing you would feel, and look in them. I wanted this to be my gift to you for this evening.”

  That last statement doesn’t go past me and I take every word of it in. Jeez, here I go with the bloomin’ lip biting. Marc chuckles a little. I swiftly change the subject…

  “I also have to thank you for the lovely Tennyson poem. You certainly have a way with words, so thank you again.” I don’t let on that I used google to find out which poet had written it, so shh!

  “No worries, I thought they were beautiful words that would reflect a beautiful woman.” He tenderly caresses his thumb across the back of my hand, sending a shockwave of affection through my body. This is madness!!

  For the rest of the journey Marc is informs me on the history of Christ’s College, it truly is fascinating and I am engrossed in every word he is saying. He tells me all about how Charles Darwin had studied there as a young man and now the college are celebrating this incredible man’s life. We will see the fairly recently unveiled sculpture that has a permanent placement in the grounds, along with the Darwin Garden. I am getting quite excited about this evening now.

  With the easy flow of conversation, the journey went quickly and I hadn’t noticed that we had arrived outside the main gates to the college. Marc helps me out of the car and I then take a moment to take in the wonderfully ornate gate and walls that we’re about to enter. However, it is not until we’re shown into The Hall that the grandeur of the place is really shown off to us.

  “Wow!!” I gape, open mouthed at the most spectacular room I have ever been into. Think Harry Potter and you are almost there. There are four long tables positioned in the room; three of them parallel to one another, while there is a top table stretched in front of a large oak panelled wall. Every one of the tables has pristine white table cloths draped over them and standing majestically on the top are gold candelabra’s with candles flickering away. The cutlery has been placed so neat and precise, that I am sure they actually had a poor waiter checking that were laid out inch perfect. Looking around, I gaze up at the artistically presented stained glass windows and down to the chequer board like flooring. If there aren’t enough seats to go around, the floor would sure be clean enough to eat off believe me. Goodness knows how long I had been gawking at it all for, but Marc has to pull me to one side so as to allow a train of people through the door way.

  “I am guessing you like the place then!” Marc correctly points out the obvious.

  I very nearly come out with a “No shit Sherlock!” but decide against it, especially with the company we’re in. Speaking of company, I spy Dr Dread mingling across the other side of the room wearing a long black mermaid style dress. I could really do with not seeing much of the Doctor tonight, so in order to avoid her I ask Marc if we can get a drink from the other room. She does actually look good in the dress and seems to be getting plenty of attention, but if I can avoid her bumping into us I’ll be happy.

  Passing me a glass of sparkling wine, Marc then introduces me to a few other guests who he has been working along side. First I am introduced to Dr Andrew Drayton, Fellow and Director of Biological Studies; why I suddenly feel the need to curtsy I don’t know; it takes some to stop myself from doing it though. The remaining people are a mixture close associates and new found colleagues.

  It is only a short time before a gong is heard to announce that dinner is ready to be served. So filtering into the hall is a slow process with the bustling crowd of people.

  “Good evening Marc, Isabel, it’s good to see you again.” I have no need to seek out the voice as I already know who and where they are. Never the less I put my best show stopping smile on as I glimpse to the side, all Marc does is nod his head in acknowledgement.

  “Good evening Dr Acerbi, same to you.” That’s all the reply I am willing to give her as I assuredly don’t want to get into any more of a conversation than that. Unfortunately for me she has other ideas.

  “Please call me Emelie like I said earlier, any friend of Marc’s is a friend of mine.”

  Over my dead body! “Ok, thank you Emelie.” I congratulate myself on a job well done in the politeness department, especially as it hurt so much!

  The line of people parading towards the doorway comes to a halt while waiting for others to take to their seats. I am aware of the uneasy atmosphere growing thicker between the three of us, when Emelie’s voice cuts right through it.

  “I must speak to you after dinner Marc, I am sure Isabel won’t mind if I steal you for a few minutes.” The effort she put into making the sentence appear light hearted and polite, doesn’t quite pay off.

  “I am sure Isabel wouldn’t mind Emelie, but I most certainly would.” Marks voice sounds deeply serious. There is undeniably no love lost from Marc’s side of the fence, but still Emelie perseveres.

  “Oh I think you will find what I have to tell you, is of extreme importance; I would rather not leave it any longer than it needs and I think you will agree to talk about it in public would be highly unprofessional.”

  I get the impression that some business affairs need to be sorted between these two, so I butt in and touch Marc’s arm for added reassurance.

  “You go ahead Marc and I’ll take a wander around the garden after dinner. They will only be clearing the hall in preparation for the dance and so you can find me when you’re done, I’ll be fine honestly.”

  The hard look on Marc’s face doesn’t change for a moment and then sighing he smiles down at me.

  “Ok, but it won’t take long I promise.”

 
; Dinner passes by without any hitches and I will admit I have really enjoyed the conversation with both Marc who sits on one side of me, and a lady named Catherine on the other. It flowed easily and I felt I was able to participate in all of it. My perception of these formal events has certainly changed, but I feel slightly worn out from putting myself through the worry.

  We are just sipping on our wine when Marc leans in to me. I can feel his warm breath sweeping across the side of my neck; it feels like a hundred butterflies have just flown past me and they leave a wake of spirited air.

  “Are you sure you’ll be Ok on your own for a short while?”

  I turn to look at him and we are in such a close proximity that our lips are nearly touching. I have an urgent desire to kiss him, I don’t care who sees us I just want to taste the saltiness of his lips. I get an inkling of Marc’s thoughts as his eyes gaze down to my mouth. I'm longing to tell him that I won’t be Ok and crave to be in his arms. However that would be selfish of me and in any case, we will hopefully have time for that later.

  “Yes, you go. As I say, I’ll go and walk around the garden so I won’t be too far away. When you’re done I’ll be there.”

  Without a care in the world Marc kisses me full on the lips, causing an automatic reaction; I close my eyes and savour him. The seconds we’re connected seem to drag on forever, so when he moves away my lips feel bare. Standing he pulls my chair out and takes my hand and walk in the direction of the garden, stopping just short of the large oak door.

  “I promise you I won’t be long and, I will come and find you once I am done with whatever it is Emelie wants to discuss. Then I hope you are ready to dance the night away Miss Chambers.” He spins me under his arm and embraces me.

  Giving me a final kiss on the lips, I watch him return to the hall, pulling on the cuffs of his shirt as he does. I giggle to myself and then venture on outside.

  Sometime later I am sitting on a bench outside, having watched the sun go down behind one of the college buildings when Marc comes marching across the stone pathway. I don’t recognise the look in his eyes, it is one I haven’t seen before and once he reaches me he grabs a hold of one of my hands tugging me from the seat.

  “Isabel, I need you to come with me now.” The urgency in his voice is obvious, but why I have no idea.

  With no other words Marc hauls me double-quick time into the college and down a few corridors. I start to panic, not knowing what is happening. To some degree I am frightened.

  “Marc what are we doing? Where are we going? Please slow down.”

  It is not until we enter a room I don’t recognise, that Marc lets go of my hand to lock the heavy door. My heart is hammering away from the exertion of the walk and I hate to say it, for fear of what is to come. He turns and roughly draws me to him. Before I know it, his mouth clashes with mine; the ferocity in which he does it scares me. Pushing his hands roughly into my hair he tugs on the strands. He groans into my mouth in an animalistic manner, so I have to drop my bag to the floor to grab both of his upper arms and push him away. He’s strong, but swiftly realises what I am trying to do. Releasing me he turns away, leaning against the door with one hand, as he rakes his fingers through his thick hair with the other. Slowing his breathing he looks back at me.

  My lips are on fire from the harshness of his mouth and with trembling fingers I touch them. Marc deliberately closes and opens his eyes and what I see in them now is guilt and remorse. Without warning I unexpectedly feel faint. I have to find something to lean against when I feel my legs start to buckle. Marc runs to me so that I don’t fall and enclosing me in his arms, he apologises to me over and over again. Bringing my arms around him, I need to hold the Marc I know closer.

  Chapter 7

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I am so, so sorry Isabel.”

  I can hear the desperation and regret in Marc’s voice, along with the look of guilt in his eyes I believe him. Despite the fact I have known him less than a week, I honestly do not think that he would harm me or force me to do anything I didn’t want to do, so the shock of seeing him like that is starting to subside a bit and I relax a little more into his embrace. My ear is pressed against his chest and therefore I can hear his heart pounding away. I tenderly stroke his back to help calm him, something or someone is responsible for why Marc is like this and it doesn’t take a genius to guess who. What did that witch do or say to him? We hold each other for a few more minutes before we walk over to a couple a chairs in the centre of the room. Marc holds my hands as I sit and then pulls another chair closer to, so that he is sitting opposite me. He leans forward resting his elbows on his knees and with his head bent down. He doesn’t look at me straight away, the shame he must be feeling is stopping him from doing so.

  “Marc, please look at me?” I need him to see that I am no longer afraid, I know he wasn’t going to hurt me and what just happened wasn’t the Marc I know. The compassionate, thoughtful Marc I’ve seen over the last few days is still in there. Finally he casts his eyes up to me and the emotion I see tugs at my heart. I reach forward to hold his hands, to show I trust him and for him to know that he can trust me with anything. I just need for him to talk to me.

  “I am so sorry Isabel I wouldn’t hurt you I hope you know that.” His voice is low and I can see his eyes pleading with me to believe him.

  I clutch at his hands tightly, “I know that Marc, I believe you. What I don’t understand is what has gone on or happened with Emelie for this to come about. It is a shot in the dark, but I am guessing that she is the reason behind all of this.”

  Marc returns his gaze down to our hands and taking a deep breath he slowly nods his head, affirming what I was saying. The silence in the room is broken when in the background we hear the band start with the evening’s entertainment and Miles Davis’- You’re My Everything is their first choice of music. I close my eyes to listen to the mellow sound and I only open them again when I feel Marc rising to his feet and pulling me towards him.

  “Will you dance with me, please Isabel?” The look of hope in his eyes sinks deep within me.

  Placing one of his hands open against my lower back, he clasps one of my hands so that we are now in a slow dance stance and our bodies move closely in time with the music. I hear Marc start to softly hum the tune of the piece we are listening to; he must know the song by heart as he is in perfect harmony with the soulful sax. I have never heard such impassioned music, the way it is telling a story without words or pictures is just breath taking. It is almost as if it was written for us, jeez how sentimental am I getting, it must be age!! Marc could be thinking exactly the same and I feel him press delicate kisses to the top of my head. As the music ends, applause echoes along the stone and concrete corridors as Marc lightly brushes his thumb across my cheek.

  “I don’t want Emelie spoiling what is a wonderful evening. I have a beautiful woman by my side and you should be allowed to enjoy tonight as much as anyone else is.” Lifting my chin with his hand, he kisses me earnestly; his taste is so sweet.

  I gaze straight into his repentant eyes, “I am not asking for you to tell me now Marc, but will you at some point soon, please explain what earlier on was about? I want and need to be able to understand.” I pause, waiting for his answer.

  “I realise you deserve an explanation Isabel, but I don’t want to drag you into something that is mine and Emelie’s business.”

  I can feel my blood starting to boil. “I think that it is a little too late for that wouldn’t you say?” How dare this woman do this to us tonight of all nights! I stride purposely towards the door, which is a bit of a difficult task in these heels, but I am determined to give the tramp a piece of my own mind.

  “Isabel, stop!” Marc catches a hold of my arm and twists me towards him.

  “She is not worth it really. Emelie is a vindictive, venomous woman, who is out to ruin it for anyone she can’t have her own way with. I shouldn’t have let her get under my skin in the way I did and I am sorry
for that, but please let us just forget about her now. We’ll go out there heads held high and have a great time; the music is good and more importantly the drink is free.” He smirks and I have to laugh at him, as the joke is not completely lost on me; Marc can easily afford to buy the drinks for quite possibly everybody that is in attendance here this evening.

  I do get what Marc is saying, plus I don’t want to make the evening any worse for us. We are here to have a good time, so we will have a good time and that’ll be two fingers up to Dr Douche.

  Taking my hand, Marc leads me back into the hall where the music is swinging and a few people are dancing.

  “Wait here I won’t be a moment.” Marc leaves me to walk over to where the band is situated and speaks to the pianist, who I assume must be the band leader. I frown at him when he returns and he guides me to the centre of the dance floor. Taking me into his arms I then hear the first few bars of Andy Williams’ “Can’t Take My Eyes off You”. I allow the broad smile to show on my face, he knows that this is a favourite of mine.

 

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