Heather tried to calm her beating heart, but without success. She was nervous and scared, It isn't everyday that one is chased by a bunch of men, and then saved by a complete stranger! Who were those men, Heather thought, and why were they chasing her?
Throwing a quick sideways glance up at the stranger who stood next to her, Heather blushed and quickly looked away when she found him looking down at her. He did not look pleased at all, and she wondered what he expected of her once the elevator stopped and they got off.
Heather turned her head slightly to the right and caught sight of herself on the mirrored side of the elevator and her jaw dropped, she looked horrible. Her long blonde hair was in tangles, her mascara was running, and her skimpy clothes were dirty, and ripped in a few places. Anyone who looked at her might think she was a prostitute who was beat up by her pimp!
The elevator door opened and the man stepped out and motioned for her to follow him. Heather stepped out of the elevator and looked around for an exit. She wasn't going to enter this mans suite, because she didn't trust him. To her dismay, the man reached out and gently grabbed her arm, pulling her with him through the door to his suite.
"This is not the kind of hotel you are used to, this is an upper scale hotel and you can't be standing out in the hallway looking like that!" He said in a clipped tone.
Looking like that? What exactly did that mean, did he think she was a prostitute? Anger boiled inside her stomach, and when they stepped inside the suite, and he closed the door, she pulled herself out of his grip.
"You are gravely mistaken mister, I am not a prostitute!" She said threw gritted teeth, staring coldly at him.
Edward raised an eyebrow, before he turned and walked to the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey. "Those were your words Madame, not mine!"' he said in a voice that was sharp as crystal, and sent shivers up and down Heathers spine.
Heather threw him a cold look, before her eyes looked around the spacious suite that was elegantly decorated with modern exquisite taste. He must be filthy rich, she thought, as she threw him another quick glance.
Edward regarded her for a moment before he poured himself another shot, and brought it to his lips. The liquid burned his throat, but he barely noticed it, as his intense gaze fell on her and dipped to her breast.
Heathers cheeks flamed from embarrassment until anger set in, and she couldn't help but throw at him, "Can I help you?" She asked angrily, not realizing that her choice of words brought a slow smile to his full lips.
Arrogant bastard! She thought, and marched herself to the door to leave. She wasn't going to remain in this suite just to be taken against her will!
"You won't be able to go far, before security takes you into custody. They don't take kindly to prostitutes prancing about the hotel ruining their reputation as a five star hotel." He told her in a deep, rich voice that almost had Heather swooning off her feet. Almost, but not quite.
"I am not a prostitute! And further more, you can't keep me against my will inside your suite!" She told him angrily, hating the way his beautiful eyes kept dropping to her breasts.
"Against your will?" He asked, raising an eye brow. "You are not a prisoner Heather, please feel free to leave at your will, but I can not protect you if you walk out that door. You will be on your own, with no one to protect you from your pimp." He said dryly, raising another shot of whiskey to his lips.
"Why you arrogant bastard!" She hissed, and swung open the door and stepped out.
Heather angrily walked to the elevator, hit the button, and watched the door slide open, she did not hesitate to jump in the elevator and watch the door close in the bastards face as he was coming for her.
Her heart was racing as the elevator stopped when it reached the lobby, and the door opened, but as she took a single step out of the elevator, she saw the man whom she had hit in the crotch, and her heart stopped beating. Stepping back inside the elevator, she hit the button with trembling fingers for the door to close, and back up she went to the presidential suite where the bastard waited as he poured himself yet another drink.
Walking through the opened door, she was flabbergasted to know that the bastard was so arrogant that he had left the door to his suite open knowing that she would be crawling back inside.
Slamming the door shut, she walked in the middle of the room and said, "I am not a prostitute!"
A smile curved his lips, and his eyes shined brightly, "you could have fooled me." He muttered softly underneath his breath.
But Heather heard him and seethed with anger. Without thinking she walked up to him and slapped him hard across the face. His eyes darkened dangerously and he clenched his jaw, but Heather wasn't scared of him, she was about to slap him again but he caught her hand in mid air.
"Let's get one things straight," he said through gritted teeth. "this is my play pen, and I can throw you out on your ass, and you would run the risk of whoever is after you to find you, or you can behave, take a shower, and go straight to bed!"
"Let go of me!" She yelled at him, ignoring his threats. "I wouldn't spend the night here with you even if it was the last day on earth!"
Edward let go of her and threw his head back and roared with laughter. Heather stared at him in horror. He was making fun of her, how dare he! Not learning her lesson the first time around, she lifted her hand to slap him again, but Edward grabbed her again by her wrists and slammed her against his muscled chest.
Heather tried to release herself from his iron grip, but was unable to. She looked up just in time to see his lips come crashing down to hers. Her knees grew weak as his lips burned hers with desire, and she panted softly, enjoying the feel of him grinding himself against her thighs.
She was lost in this blissful moment not realizing what she was doing, until Edward stopped kissing her and pushed her away. Ashamed of herself for acting like a trollop, she started to cry, wanting badly to release her frustration, and hide her embarrassment before she died from shame.
Edward watched her silently, still trying to ignore the fire in his loins he had felt when he held her in his arms. Who was she, he thought, that held this much power over him?
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