Page 10 of Savage Game
“Come.” His dark masculine voice made her body stand to attention in a way she couldn’t control and didn’t like.
I’m not attracted to this man.
From the moment she’d arrived at his building, the myriad of emotions left her confused and stole her ability to form coherent thoughts. She had fallen from nervousness of having to do a job she was incapable of doing, to flustered when the elevator brought her to the penthouse, to anxiety and anger when she realized how Liam had sold her to this stranger without any limits to what he could do to her, leaving her at wariness when Mr. Nolan didn’t take advantage of the situation.
Oh, the man was domineering, and his sexual intent was clear, but he hadn’t done anything inappropriate.
Yet?
Straightening her shoulders, she opened the heavy mahogany door and stepped inside. Mr. Nolan was standing behind his desk, a phone pressed against his ear. As she entered the room, he nodded to her and concentrated on the person on the other end of the line. It left her in the awkward position of having to wait, but she used the short respite to compose herself and study the man in front of her.
“I don’t care what needs to be done, just deal with it.” He was silent as he listened to something the person on the other end said. “That’s unacceptable.” He tilted his head back and looked upward as if praying for patience.
Not comfortable with eavesdropping on his phone call, Charlotte tuned out his conversation and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. This time the clothes he’d laid out for her on the bed were for a red cheerleader costume which consisted of a surprisingly well-fitting sports bra with five thin straps at the back and a tiny skirt that was about as effective covering her ass as a belt. The Calvin Klein thong, of course, didn’t cover her butt at all, but the material was oddly comfortable, and even a tiny thong beat going naked anytime, so she wouldn’t complain.
After disconnecting the call, he sat back in his chair and settled in a confident, masculine pose. The way she noticed him as a man left her confused. After raking his eyes over her, his smile held a challenge as he patted his right thigh in an obvious come here gesture.
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head.
Uh-unh. I’m not going to sit on his lap. Nope. No way.
Her cheeks heated, and the realization her face was turning beet red only stoked the fire.
His eyebrow slipped up, and her resolve crumbled like overcooked muffins. She stared at his face, fighting the urge to do his bidding. Somehow, his scars bothered her less each time she looked at him. The imperfection made him appear seasoned and strong rather than less handsome.
He tilted his head. “You’d prefer to spend the entire day naked rather than sit on my lap for a while?”
Um, well, when he put it that way.
She bit her lip and peeked at him through her eyelashes. She couldn’t read his face, but the set of his jaw screamed determination. The tight band around her chest loosened and she took a step toward him.
The corners of his mouth lifted a minuscule amount, and she might have missed the movement if she hadn’t been trained to closely study the men around her. Her next step lengthened, and his eyes softened. When she stepped even closer, he held out his hand to take hers and tugged her on his lap.
She barely held back the squeak. For such a big guy he moved fast. Even her skills at dodging Liam’s fists—mostly—didn’t prepare her for Mr. Nolan’s smooth move.
With competent but gentle hands, he made her settle on his lap. The muscles of his thighs flexed under her bottom, heightening her awareness of his strength and virility. The spicy amber scent of his cologne held a hint of sweetness without overpowering his masculinity, and she fought her awareness of him as a man. She kept herself rigid on his lap, making as little contact as possible.
Ignoring her stiff posture, he pulled her against his chest. “I want to hold you like this for a moment.”
He sounded so lost, and before she could control the words, her question popped out of her mouth. “What is wrong?”
“Some problems at a project in Seattle.”
Encouraged by his prompt reply, she prodded, “What happened?”
“Some people are just idiots.” He rested his chin on her head. “I just spoke to the general manager of a small factory I co-own. Their accident rate this last quarter was higher than the entire amount last year.”
She turned so she could face him. “That doesn’t sound good. Those poor people.”
His jaw clenched so hard it must hurt him. She lifted her hand to stroke his cheek and comfort him before she caught herself and clenched her fingers into a fist. To her shock, he took her wrist, pried open her hand, and pressed his firm lips to her palm.
“Thank you for caring, Kittycat.” He ran his other hand over her back. “Now let me hold you for a moment so I can drain some tension and carry on with my work with a clear head. Allow your soft little body to make me remember there’s beauty in this world.”
Oh, well. What harm would it do, right?
She allowed her back muscles to relax and her upper body to mold with the hard planes of his chest. The man had no padding whatsoever.
She let out a sigh, and more tension drained from her. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who needed comfort. In some unnerving way, she felt safe and protected in his arms. The emotion was wrong on so many levels, but she didn’t want to delve into her strange feelings at all.
