Page 17 of Stalked By the Executive

“And I am yours,” I vow, sealing my promise with a kiss.

She takes the necklace from its velvet cradle, holding it up to examine it in the candlelight.

The platinum chain glints, set with a single diamond that refracts the flickering flames into a dazzling display of color.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, eyes shining with wonder.

I pluck the necklace from her grasp, stepping behind her chair.

“May I?”

She nods, gathering her hair and sweeping it over one shoulder to bare the slender column of her neck.

My fingers brush against her skin as I fasten the clasp, sending a shiver down her spine.

I bend lower, lips grazing the curve of her neck. She sighs softly, head tilting to the side in invitation.

“Exquisite,” I murmur against her skin. “The necklace was made for you.”

My hands slide over her shoulders, relishing the feel of her silken skin and delicate bones beneath my palms.

“Everything I have will be yours. All you need to do is say yes.”

She swallows hard, pulse fluttering wildly against my lips.

“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, Marcus, I’m yours.”

Triumph and desire surge within me, an intoxicating blend that threatens to overwhelm my senses.

I straighten, spinning her chair to face me. Her lips part on a gasp as I crush her mouth beneath my own, claiming what now belongs solely to me.

She is mine, at last. And I have no intention of ever letting her go.

CHAPTERSIX

Charlotte

I twistthe brass knob and step into Marcus's dimly lit office, scanning the messy desk for the documents I need.

Hmmm, not here. Maybe he threw them in a drawer?

My fingers graze against...lace? I pause, heart pounding. What is—

No. I jerk my hand back. None of my business.

But curiosity burns through my veins. I glance over my shoulder at the closed door, guilt and longing warring inside me.

With trembling fingers, I reach into the drawer again. Soft lace caresses my skin. I grasp the fabric and pull.

White lacy panties. No, not just any panties.Mine.

The missing pair.

Shock rips through me, sharp as a knife.Marcus.

My breaths come fast and shallow. My shaky hand knocks the mouse of the computer, and I notice a file on the desktop with my name on it.

With dread, I click on it. Picture after picture of me. Asleep. It's obvious the cameraman is in my room.

---