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When he said dinner, she wasn't expecting some five-star bistro. No one questioned Cyriac. Of course not. Because he was a Novack. She shuddered to think of her sister's reaction of her dining with someone from so much wealth and prestige. And enough clout to keep the paparazzi away. They took their seats at a table in a private area and a server arrived to take their orders.
This wasn't a date. Not a date. But her heart thumped painfully in her chest as she stared at the majestic creature across from her. Her first crush. Ah! This shouldn't be happening! She frowned as the organ fell out of sequence. Its skipping beats! Was she dying?! She stared dumbfound by the flirtatious behavior of their server. Did she not see her here? She knew they weren't dating, but it was about respect.
Was she inadequate? The hat on her head? Did she send signs of submissiveness to everyone within a certain radius? Ugh! Why was she even romantically thinking about him? He was her employer. Nothing more. No! He was hers! Irrational, she knew. But she couldn't help it. She barely contained the snarl humming in her chest, waiting to tear its way out of her throat. Instead, she settled for huffing, although not too loudly, wouldn't want Cyriac to know she was jealous. He ordered rare steaks and the monster relaxed knowing delicious morsels were coming its way.
Returning to the table, the waitress's ample bosom screamed to be released from the confines of her shirt. Could she use them to smother her with? Not likely. How desperate could she get? Rosalinda eyes flickered over to Cyriac. His face remained expressionless. Stoic. Smart man.
Vying for attention, the desperate clumsy woman nearly knocked her drink over. Thoughts about her appearance long forgotten, she ripped the cap off her head and targeted the woman with hard gray eyes. She would sell her soul to hear her pain filled cries crescent the air. However, she ever the diplomat spoke kindly, telling the woman to be more careful. She settled back into her chair to finish her meal, the fork halfway to her mouth when their server's obnoxious mouth released sounds, that she call mutterings. Whatever happened to her good friends, diplomat and classy? They broke up and she met a new friend called rage. It swept through her veins, quickly replacing the tranquility that once flowed.
"Excuse me?" "O, I said I hope you all enjoy your meal" she said, sashaying away from them.
Rosalinda didn't appreciate her turning her back and walking away while she was talking. It meant she was nothing. Worthless. Something within her roared toward the surface, and she quaked as the lights flickered. Eh? Her eyes slid over to their server and she frowned noticing the shadow, it stretched from her to their server wrapping around her right leg. How odd.
You should break it.
Rosalinda agreed, but refrained from doing so. Deep breaths. Let's not go off the deep end. She focused on her meal. When her eyes finally darted up to meet Cyriac, they glowed. Holy crap! Was that normal? A play of the lights? Why was he looking at her like that? It made her quiver. She felt her body hum in anticipation. His eyes captured hers, and she was lost. She fell into him. Who was this man? Her nostrils flared as she inhaled him. He was the perfect fuse to the fire hurling through her. This strange mysterious connection they seem to have, scared her, and yet the experience was thrilling, exhilarating. Taking a deep breath, she shuddered from his intoxicating scent. This shouldn't be happening, but it was! Did he feel it? Sense it? Want it? She tried to reel her thoughts in. Cyriac was a Novack. And her boss. She swallowed thickly and tried to focus on their non-date. She certainly wasn't the first female to be held captive by an enigmatic man. Ignoring him, she finished her meal. Once Cyriac paid the bill, she smirked. He didn't leave a tip. Good.
