Wicked Seduction

23 The invisible bond

"We're hardly strangers." Alistair scoffed, leaning closer to me. The smooth touch of his thumb running along my face was enough to tranquilize the raging beast of my angry hormones that were ready to explode.

"Alistair," I said with a loud sigh. Why did I feel as if there was an invisible rope from him to me, binding our souls?

"Are you seeing anyone?" he questioned. His eyes pierced mine as he caressed my cheekbones.

"Yes, there's someone I see on a casual basis, but it's not a relationship."

"What's his name?"

"Does it matter?"

"I want him out of your life," Alistair ordered. He released a small chuckle and lifted my chin, murmuring, "Vera, Vera."

"Her name is Holly," I said. Holly James was a doctor, a gynecologist I met at a work-sponsored social event around the time I met Alistair. Ironically, we instantly connected on one subject: Alistair Scott. She knew about the Scott family through friends.

"Is it serious with Holly?"

"No. We meet up, and we fuck occasionally. Is there anything else you want to ask?"

"Have you fucked another man?" Alistair cornered me, stroking my arms as his breathing grew heavy.

I didn't want to answer that question, so I said nothing.

"Vera? Have you slept with another man?"

"Yes, I have."

"Fuck! I knew it!" Alistair exclaimed. He looked up at the ceiling, grimaced, then ran his hands through his hair.

"Have you slept with another woman?" I shot back, throwing the ball in the player's court.

"Yes," he replied. His five o'clock shadow brushed against my face, and his forehead touched mine.

"Was it Erin?"

"No. I had a few one-night stands."

"Just a few? You're changing." I laughed, touching the soft cotton of Alistair's shirt sleeve.

"There's nothing between Erin and me," Alistair insisted. His eyes bore down on me, intensely drilling my soul. "She's my ex-girlfriend who's now married to my brother. That's all she is and all she'll ever be."

"Alistair," I trailed off, drowning in a cocktail of lust and passion that permeated my veins as his male scent infiltrated my nostrils.

"Did you miss me? Because I've missed you very much," Alistair murmured, groaning into my neck. I felt his body engulf mine, capturing my curves with his strong, masculine grasp. "You have no idea how much it killed me, the thought of not seeing you around. So, to say that I miss you is a grave understatement."

"Oh, God, I missed you so much," I whispered. My lips moistened from the warm tingle of his supple mouth. He deepened the kiss with the hot, intense zeal of his tongue, which greedily greeted mine. A century of days and nights could have quickly passed as we devoured each other in a hungry embrace. Coming back to my senses, I slowly broke free from Alistair, whose eyes were darkened and lost in crazy desperation.

"Don't pull away from me! I'm still crazy about you. Possessively crazy."

"I'm at work. Brenton's office is just down the hall, and if he catches us-"

"Vera, please!" Alistair begged. He pressed his body into mine, groped my ass with one forceful hand, and squeezed my left breast with the other hand. His grip caused ferocious pain, making me yelp.

"Alistair, you're hurting me! Stop it!" I cried out and raised my hand, signaling him to stop right there.

"Oh, shit. Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart. It's been too long, and I struggle with control."

"You do not get to touch me that way!" I hissed, recoiling from Alistair. Memories of Ace flooded my head, which pounded with the painful recollection of his abusive nature.

"I'm sorry! I promise it won't happen again!" Alistair apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

"I can't do this right now. We're better apart," I whispered, feeling breathless from the mixed emotions running in my heart.

"Old sport, I thought you got lost on the way up here. Do you still want to see me about your case?" a familiar voice asked.

Alistair and I both turned to Brenton, who stood at the doorway with raised eyebrows and a tight mouth. My boss was no idiot-he caught us fresh in the act of passion.

"McCormick." Alistair nodded and cleared his throat while I smoothed my denim skirt. "You may want to button up your blouse," he whispered into my ear, then walked over to greet his buddy with a pat on the back.

I looked down and noticed Alistair had unbuttoned my garment, revealing a little lace. Guard your heart, a silent voice whispered, sending chills down my spine. A storm is coming.

Guard your heart.

A/N: Please, if you're not enjoying the story, stop reading it. You can drop it like a hot potato.

Like the sun's effect on Icarus, is Alistair too dangerous for Vera?

A seventeenth-century relief with a Cretan labyrinth depicting Icarus and the sun (Musée Antoine Vivenel):