Page 11 of Boss

Chapter 3

Tarek's headache was gone. The house was left open to him. It was a ranch and he owned many. This one had the isolation and calm he needed. Outside, just as they arrived, the rain began to pour. He'd led the beautiful woman with the sexy hips, nice ass, and sweet smile to the steps under the protective cover of his umbrella. She walked inside and he helped her from her coat. He liked her short haircut. Since they arrived in Texas the humidity and rain made it lay flat to her skull like a dark crown. Tarek had an accurate and swiftly assessing eye when it came to women and there was something fresh about her beauty. They lived in the age of Botox and fake tits. Not Angela. She was genuine. At least physically. She stepped forward with her hands clasped together as he observed. Her skin was an umber color, much like the reddish-brown earth pigment that covered his land when the sunlight disappeared to dusk. Her ass was round, and in perfect symmetry with her womanly hips, that drew up to her tiny waist. And although he could be a Maverick when it came to business, he appreciated the fresh beauty she breathed into the atmosphere when she walked about.

He'd not dated many women of color. Well, that wasn't necessarily true. There was one woman many years ago. And he'd practiced hard to not think about what became of her.

“Does it meet your approval?” he asked.

She cast a look over her shoulder at him, and he could see her eyes were amazingly calm when she responded. “It’ll do. You stay here? Half the place is unfurnished,” she said.

“It’s a family ranch. The first one we owned. And yes, I stay here when I want to escape the city,” he replied

His gaze went to her bare fingers. No ring.

“Are you married?” he asked.

“Are you proposing?” she turned around and faced him. There was something underneath her innocence. An edge he didn't trust. She wanted something from him. He sensed it. And though his ego would like to believe it was sex, his instinct told him differently.

“Are you?”

“No Mr. Marshall, ah, Tarek. I'm not married.”

“No jealous boyfriend waiting for you at home?” he asked.

“If he did exist, would you care?” she answered.

He smiled. “No. I suppose not.”

Her gaze flickered over to the rain splattered window. “How far outside of Dallas are we?”

“Far enough,” he said.

“And we’re alone,” she shed her blazer and let it drop to the floor,” she asked.

“Yes. We’re alone,” he answered and walked over to pick up her blazer. He then headed to the open room over to his left. She followed. He tossed her coat and blazer to the sofa. His driver arrived with his luggage and her things. Tarek decided to fix them a drink.

Kassidy stared at Tarek not sure what to do or say next. She'd run out of witty conversation and quick comebacks. It was draining trying to play checkers with a man who insisted on playing chess. She was vaguely aware, that though Tarek's mansion was enormous, with an indefinable scent of luxury in the air, it had a cold empty feel to it. She should have paid more attention to where he was bringing her but it was dark, and she spent most of the time trying to offer engaging conversation.

Thankfully the martini buzz she’d had, faded. Now he presented another glass with dark amber liquid.

“Here, drink this, it'll warm you up,” he promised.

She accepted the drink with a smile, and tossed it back the way he did, with one swallow. And the liquid torched her throat. She gagged, and put a fist to her mouth to keep from puking.

“What the hell was that!” she demanded.

“Tequila,” he said.

“Yuck!” she gave him the glass back.

He laughed. Like a bullet to her head, the affect was instant. She felt light, and with levity out went her sensibility. “It's disgusting,” she said and touched his arm to keep her balance.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so. But no more drinks, thanks.”

He chuckled and walked away. She followed. She wasn't sure why, but she was right on his heels. He set the glass on the bar and turned to bump into her. She was brave again, and aroused. It wasn't just the tequila but she’d later admit drinking had something to do with it. It was him. It had always been him.

Their eyes met in one long moment. Kassidy decided that nerves were no longer going to freeze her, because what would be the point. She'd made her bed by walking into the devil's chamber. There was a price to pay to go further. Her price to pay.

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