Making Scandal (The Essien Trilogy, #2)

by Kiru Taye

  Spellbound and unable to withdraw, she prayed he would release her so she could scrub her hand against her dress and pretend the kiss hadn't happened. She could pretend she wasn't being a bad friend and falling in lust with a man who was out of bounds to her.

  There had to be a sisterhood rule about lusting after your friend's boyfriend, right?

  God obviously didn’t pay attention to her prayer because Mark didn't let her go. His eyes, cobalt and intense, studied her closely.

  Spontaneous combustion in humans might be a scientific fiction. But, right here right now it might become her reality if she didn't detach from him.

  "Mr. Essien—"

  "Mark. You may call me Mark," he interrupted huskily, and her mouth went suddenly dry. "So long as you allow me to call you Faith. That is such a beautiful name."

  A moan bubbled in her throat. Clamping her mouth shut, she suppressed it and took a shuddering breath.

  Where did he learn such skills in seduction? According to the info she read about him, he'd be thirty-ish and at her last birthday she became twenty-eight years old. Yet, he had a way of making her feel inexperienced and out of her depths.

  "You can call me what you like, er, Mark," she said and licked her lips, tasting her cherry lip gloss. "As long as you let go of my hand." She managed to pull her fingers free and forced a smile. "I gather you’re not enjoying the party?"

  He shrugged, broad shoulders moving sinuously beneath the expensive cloth of his shirt.

  "Are you?" he countered, making no attempt to give her some space. He gestured about him. "Is that why you are hiding in here?"

  Faith arched brows. "I’m not hiding," she replied and straightened her back.

  All consuming eyes regarded her between narrowed lids. "We could hide together," he suggested, lifting a hand and tracing a long middle finger down the curve of her face from lip to jaw. "Would you like that?"

  Skin tingling; she took an involuntary step backwards as her temper rose. "No. I wouldn’t like that!"

  How could she have allowed things to get this far? Whatever impression she’d given, she wasn’t interested in a one-night stand. Not tonight. Not with him, anyway. Let Wumi satisfy his libido.

  Unfortunately, he stood between her and the exit. She backed up, deciding to return into the ladies’. Perhaps he would just give up and leave her alone. For every step she took backward, he took one forward. She only managed to splay herself to the wall.

  Now he stood before her, encroaching in her personal space. She reached forward to push him away but her fingertips encountered the taut muscles of his midriff. Head rushed through her.

  "I think you should go back to the party, Mr. Essien," she said, despite the fact that she’d called him Mark already. "I’m sure Wumi must be wondering where you are."

  "I don’t think so," he said, the deep quality of his voice feeling intimate.

  "I don’t want to upset Wumi," she said in a terse tone. Then, in an effort to lighten the conversation, she added, "You must be used to attending parties with different women."

  That didn’t come out the way she’d wanted it.

  He didn't seem affected, though. His shoulders lifted in a shrug and he moved back to spread his arms on either side of her head.

  "A hazard of my position. But I didn’t come to this party with any woman. So I’m free to leave with whomever I choose," he remarked with dry humour. "So does that mean you’ve been reading up about me?"

  Faith’s lips parted, and for a moment, she forgot that she’d been trying to send him away. Eyes widening, she said in her defence, "Guilty as charged. But I can’t really avoid it. News about you and your brothers are usually splashed on the tabloids and your business dealings on the business pages. It’s unavoidable."

  "True. If it makes you feel better, I looked you up as well before dinner."

  Sucking in a sharp breath, she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. "Why?"

  "I like to find out about anyone I’m going to get involved with, and I read loads of good things about you."

  "Are you saying you want to get involved with me? How?" Her brain seemed to have stopped processing the words after ‘get involved with.’ "Is there a business project you want us to work on together?"

  "Ah, no." His lips twisted in a mocking way. "Not a business project."

  "Okay," she said, though, she thought it a pity. She could quite see the two of them collaborating on some venture. "So, what is it, then?"

  "I want to get involved with you on a very personal level." His voice acquired a honeyed huskiness, flowing over her.

  Her breath died in her throat for a few heartbeats as his words sank in.

  His fiery gaze dropped down where the fabric draped over her breasts. Her nipples pebbled, grazing the lacy cup of her half-bra as he burnt a downward path on her body with his eyes. The way her body responded, he might as well be touching her already with those long fingers of his.

  "What—what are you saying? Faith spluttered in disbelief at her own reaction to his audacious words and actions.

  His fingers brushed against her bare collarbone. Her pulse jumped beneath his touch.

  "Don’t do that! What if someone came in?"

  Mark’s mouth took on a sensual curve, but he obeyed, shifting his hands to the narrow bones of her shoulders.

  "Is that the only reason you want me to stop, sweetheart?" he queried, those curious black eyes burning with a furnace fire.

  She was actually trembling, and it infuriated her. For heaven’s sake, what was wrong with her? She’d never felt quite so vulnerable in her life. Or so exhilarated.

  "I think you should let go of me, Mr. Essien," she said in a stiff tone. "I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong impression."

  "And if I don’t want to?" he murmured, his thumbs probing inside the neckline of her dress.

  "I don’t think that matters," she retorted, refusing to let him see how he was affecting her. "I don’t know what Wumi’s told you about me, but I’m not interested in casual sex."

  That shocked him, obvious in the sudden darkening of his eyes, the way the coppery stars dimmed to sombre cobalt. But he still didn’t release her.

  "Nor am I," he informed her. "And Wumi has told me nothing about you."

  Faith’s cheeks heated up. "I just meant—"

  "I know what you meant, sweetheart." His sultry gaze impaled her. "Good girls don't put out so easily, right? I get it. We can talk, get to know each other a little first."

  His fingers tightened a little and Faith caught her breath.

  "No, I don't want to talk or do anything else you have up your sleeve," she replied, allowing her displeasure to seep into her voice. "Now, please...I’d like you to let me go."

  "Did I offend you?" The scowl on his face only made him look adorable and she fought the urge to smooth out the lines on his face with her fingers. "I didn't mean to, if I did."

  "No?" She knew exactly what he had intended. But right now, she’d grown more concerned with putting some breathing space between them. With his warm breath against her temple, and his fingers digging into her flesh, she struggled to keep her composure. She'd never been with a man who made her feel this vulnerable. "Well, whatever you meant, I’m not interested in massaging your ego."

  "My ego?" He sounded amused. "So you think you know what kind of man I am?"

  She shifted her weight from her right to left leg. "I think you’re too sure of yourself probably because women always throw themselves at you."

  White teeth showed between the sensual contours of his lips.

  "You are so right, sweetheart. Some women do. But I prefer going after a woman I want. And I want you, Faith."

  "No." Her eyes widened in horror and he gave a low laugh, disturbing the butterflies in her tummy.

  "I do," he said in a smug tone, and, before she could respond, he bent his head and caught the corner of her lower lip between his teeth. He bit into the soft flesh.

  A heavy dose of p
leasure tinged with a little pain filled her. Her brain short-circuited, her protest disintegrating.

  In a sensuous exploration, his mouth stroked across hers, for one long moment, as if preparing her for what came next. Without thinking, she opened, inviting him to probe further, wanting to feel him deep within, to taste all of him. He didn't hesitate, his tongue surged between her teeth. Flavours burst into her mouth, brandy and Mark, mixing to leave her intoxicated with him.

  One firm hand circled her neck, his fingers tangling with the short strands of her hair. Silky locks tumbled over her ears and his knuckles, and his groan of satisfaction said it all.

  A sound rose in her throat. Was it a cry to stop or a whimper of surrender? She didn't know anymore. This whole experience felt unreal. Things like this didn't happen to her. She never responded to men this way. One had actually called her frigid, but in Mark’s arms, hot blood burned through her veins.

  He moved so that she stood pressed back against the wall, the hard strength of his body moulded to hers. The kiss deepened and lengthened. His hands sought her hips, bringing her fully against him, so the evidence of his desire burnt her through the fabrics.

  "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

  Faith heard the angry exclamation as if from a distance. But its significance didn’t register until sharp nails dug into her arm and tugged. Mark lifted his head, breaking the spell he had on her.

  Wumi stood beside them, her face twisted with disapproval, one hand on her hip, the other still gripping Faith. Damning shame blazed across Faith's cheeks, replacing the utter euphoria singing in her veins.

  "Wumi," she said, turning towards her. "I...it’s not what you think."

  "Isn’t it?" Her friend didn’t sound convinced.

  Faith wasn’t even sure. It had to be temporary insanity on her part. "I don’t know what came over me," she admitted. "I must have had too much to drink."

  "I know very well what would’ve come all over you if I hadn’t found you. I thought we were friends, Faith."

  "We are—"

  "For goodness sake, aren’t there enough men here for you to choose from without hitting on my man?"

  "Wumi—"

  Faith tried again, after a bare glance at Mark’s scowling face. She couldn’t make eye contact, didn't dare acknowledge what just happened between them.

  Nevertheless, she registered his stillness, the fact that he’d pushed those long-fingered hands into the front pockets of his trousers. Her body still buzzed in remembrance of his caresses.

  "Excuse me." Mark intervened. "I came to the party alone, Wumi. I may be many things, but I am not your man."

  "Oh, please—"

  "We were together earlier!" Wumi exclaimed, looking at Mark. "You wouldn’t be here at all if I hadn’t persuaded you to come to the party."

  "I did not know your invitation came with strings attached," he retorted with ice dripping from his words. "You forget yourself. I do not need your permission to speak with Faith."

  "To speak with her?" Wumi scoffed. "Is that what you call it? When I came in, you had your tongue halfway down her throat."

  "And that concerns you how?" The tone of his voice thickened. "I suggest you leave us. We don't need you as a chaperone."

  "Um...perhaps Mr. Essien should leave," Faith ventured, not looking at him as she spoke.

  She heard his sudden intake of breath at her words.

  "You don’t mean it!" he said in a harsh voice.

  But before she could respond, Wumi intervened.

  "She does," she said, her smile triumphant. "Bye bye, Mark. I’ll see you in Lagos."

  Faith’s gaze darted from Wumi’s face to Mark’s. What did that mean?

  He strode towards the door, and for a moment, she thought he would leave without speaking again.

  However, he halted on the threshold, gripping the wall door with one hand, the other scrubbing his scalp.

  "This is not over, Faith," he said in a voice as soft as butter, and she didn’t know whether that was a threat or a promise.

  Chapter Two

  After Mark left, silence clanged in the air like thunder on a stormy night, loud and bloody uncomfortable.

  "That was fun, wasn’t it?" Wumi's words dripped with sarcasm.

  Faith pressed her lips together. "Yes, well, I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind." She glanced down at her wristwatch, noticing the way her dress clung to her where Mark had been pressing against her, and cringed at the rumpled image she presented.

  "Listen, I suggest you keep away from Mark Essien. He is not your type."

  "How do you know my type?" Faith glared at Wumi. "Moreover, I'm not going to see him again."

  "Good, because I wouldn't want to fall out with you because of him."

  Wumi's snarky tone just grated on her nerves more.

  "You know me well enough to know I have no interest in men," she retorted and shoved the ladies’ door open. The panel banged against the wall with force.

  "Mark is no ordinary man. He belongs in a different league and I had to persuade him to come to this party." Wumi followed her in and shut the door quietly behind her.

  "Plus he is a man who always gets what he wants. Like a kid with a new toy when he meets a new woman, he's got to have her. And after he's played to his fill, he gets bored and moves on. I'm the only woman who has lasted in his life. We've been friends for years, and when it's time for him to settle down, I will be here for him."

  Why did the idea of Mark settling with her friend stab her in the heart like a jagged knife?

  "I have no intention of becoming Mark's toy. He will just have to go and play with someone else."

  Faith smacked her palms against her dress, attempting to smooth out the rumple. Her thighs hurt from the impact and the pain grounded her, reminding her how foolish she'd been to allow a man like Mark to kiss her. Thankfully, she was in South Africa, and the only person who had witnessed the kiss was Wumi. "Look, please don't mention what happened with Mark to anyone."

  "Of course, I'm not going to mention it to anyone. What do you take me for?"

  "Thank you." She exhaled in relief. She didn't want her name entangled with Mark’s as gossip fodder. "It’s late. I think it's time we wrapped things up here. It’s after one, and—"

  "You’re not serious?" Wumi’s jaw dropped in disbelief. "Faith, you can’t just go to bed. Things are just beginning to heat up. Just because you got a little tight and made a pass at Mark, I’m not going to hold it against you. We’ve been friends too long to let a man—"

  Faith lifted a hand to silence her. "How do you know him, anyway? And what did you mean when you said you’d see him next week?"

  "Oh." Wumi looked coy now. "Didn’t he tell you? Well, I guess he didn’t get a chance to explain. We are old family friends. The Essien brothers were in the same school as my brother."

  "Oh." Faith nodded. "Oh, I see."

  "I guess he must have been bored tonight because he doesn't usually hang out in places like this with the masses."

  Faith was tempted to say there was nothing wrong with them, but she didn’t want to give Wumi another excuse to patronise her. Moreover, Mark had indicated he wanted to leave the party, so her friend was probably right. At least about him not mixing with the common herd every day.

  "Anyway, just because he’s walked out doesn’t mean we have to ruin the party," her friend continued when Faith didn’t bite. "Another hour, Faith. Pretty please? Then we can all get to bed, I promise."

  Mark walked back to his suite in the hotel. The relative quiet should have offered him peace, yet his mind remained plagued with thoughts of Faith.

  He’d been so angry when she’d asked him to leave that he hadn’t thought about anything but getting out of there. Women didn't normally dismiss him so readily. In fact, he couldn’t remember anyone who had said no to his advances. Certainly not after returning his kiss with as much passion as Faith had done.

  The tingle on the back of hi
s neck returned as he recalled when he'd first seen her sitting in the front row of the seminar hall. She had this whole Halle-Berry-short-hair-cut going on that accentuated her pretty narrow face and fitted in with a conservative grey skirt suit with black edges.

  When she smiled, seemingly at something he’d said, her sensuous lips curled at the edge and her eyes—beautiful, intelligent eyes—flared with a luminous quality. His breath had caught and he’d lost his train of thought. He'd had to glance at his notes to continue his speech. The first time ever since he had to present his thesis as an undergraduate. All his presentations were delivered from memory alone and he never referred to his notes. Until today.

  He stripped off his clothes and headed for the shower. The cascade of jets of water on his skin always soothed him. But as he massaged shower gel onto his skin, an image of Faith popped back into his head. Standing close to her in that alcove had confirmed his suspicions. Her earlier business suit hid a voluptuous figure. Her brows were several shades darker than her honey-streaked cropped hair.

  What would she look like with no clothes on? What would she feel like? The base of his spine tingled and his arousal flared. He groaned out loud. If Wumi hadn't interrupted them, he could have had Faith up in his room right now. She could've been right here in the shower with him, crushed against the tiles while he touched and tasted her.

  His lips twisted. When Wumi had invited him to the party, he’d intended to decline. He wasn’t in the habit of mixing business with pleasure. But she’d been so insistent, and he’d wanted an opportunity to meet with Faith after seeing her at the seminar.

  Frustrated, he shut off the faucet and snatched a towel as he stepped back into the bedroom, patting his body dry. He chucked the towel and pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and groaned as the stretchy material tugged at his hard-on.

  Why the hell was he torturing himself over one woman? There were plenty of them who would've been happy to take Faith's place. He could get dressed and head back to the bar downstairs. He would definitely get laid tonight.