Darkside Love Affair

by Michelle Rosigliani

  “I never considered anything else.”

  “Good,” I nearly growled.

  Stopping at a traffic light, I unfastened my seatbelt and leaned so close to Charlotte that I almost straddled her. I watched her raptly, with unleashed wildness before my mouth descended upon her and muffled the guttural whimper erupting from her throat.

  A loud honk had me dropping back in my seat with a soft chuckle. I fastened my seatbelt and stepped firmly on the gas. Charlotte glanced back, mortification etched on her face. She was a full-grown woman, with a charisma that at times she was utterly unaware of, and yet, she could portray perfectly a young girl embarrassed at having been caught sharing her first kiss.

  “Can you negotiate behavior?”

  Her gracious fingers wrapped around her throat as if she wanted to tame the fire burning from within. The scolding glance she gave me lost its authority when confronted with the patent arousal I could smell in the air. I affected her just as badly as she affected me, and the notion alleviated a deep aching need I hadn’t known existed.

  “Behave, for God’s sake.”

  “I can negotiate. But I won’t be the one losing.”

  I smirked deviously, provoking her even as I provoked myself. Charlotte rolled her eyes and shook her head. She faced away from me, yet the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips didn’t remain concealed.

  It was late in the evening when I parked in front of Kai’s workshop. When he didn’t make a mess out of his apartment, he deigned to use the actual allotted space for his creative craze.

  I climbed out of the car, collected the box I had stored in the trunk, then helped Charlotte out, linking our hands together as we treaded forward.

  “I don’t want you to ever be afraid, Charlotte,” I whispered against her ear before we walked inside, and the pungent smell of solvent assaulted our nostrils. The reek was almost suffocating which made me wonder how Kai survived it.

  “Finally, you arrive. I’ve been hot and ready for you all day, baby.” Kai droned on without turning, clearly mistaking our arrival for someone else’s. I dropped the box I was holding, causing an intentional too loud noise, then wrapped both my arms around Charlotte, pulling her in front of my body.

  “If you would so kindly spare us the horrid details.”

  Kai whirled around, knocking to the ground a jar filled with orange goo and almost dropping the thick brush he was holding. His surprised expression morphed into a glare then returned to confusion as his eyes settled on Charlotte.

  “Oh, mon Dieu, I startled you,” I mocked him, earning a satisfyingly deep glare. To his growing frustration, even Charlotte giggled softly.

  “Miss Burton, my beloved, idiotic cousin,” he welcomed us then returned to his painting in that typical absent-minded way of his.

  “Call me Charlotte.”

  Kai, wide-eyed and stunned, turned to study her, yet her reply did not amaze me. Although she didn’t quite know it yet, she had already started liking Kai. He possessed a covert charm that made you like him even when you wanted to hate him the most.

  “Charlotte,” he said as if he weighed the word, then a nearly imperceptible guilty frown distorted his features. “It’s a pleasure you are here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Although it would have been a greater pleasure if somebody else visited you. Who are you waiting for?” His mood was definitely lighter compared to the past days.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  Kai glared, and I frowned back, while Charlotte ignored us and examined the workshop. The place was simple and a total mess as was the apartment where Kai lived, worked, and fornicated.

  His easel was placed in the middle of the room, under a bright spotlight facing a tall platform covered in white satin sheets. The walls were lined with paintings in all forms and sizes, which Kai kept religiously covered. Few people had, in fact, the honor of seeing his canvas before an organized exhibition. Kai was all about planning things, and nothing happened before he thought it proper to do so.

  “Do you exhibit?” Charlotte asked, deploying the same polite voice she reserved for subordinates and strangers. If she had yet to feel comfortable around Kai, there was a long way until she would feel anything else than tense around Brayden and Bryson, but she was daring enough to try.

  “Yes.” Kai turned once more to face us, gazing at Charlotte with the same dumbfounded look in his eyes. “But I am very possessive of my paintings. I have only the time before an exhibition to keep the paintings only to myself, then they will be exposed for everybody to see.”

  “I think I can understand that.”

  “Rarely somebody does,” Kai laughed, coaxing Charlotte to laugh too, and in the end, I joined them.

  My grin, however, disappeared altogether when the shrill, unpleasant voice of a woman caught us by surprise. Joleen Stone, also known as The Fox, waltzed inside Kai’s workshop as if she owned the place.

  With blood-red tipped blonde hair, pale skin, and light amber eyes that sometimes glowed yellow, Joleen looked surreal. The perfectly proportioned red lips, small nose, and high cheekbones gave her a beautiful appearance that was complemented by her willowy figure, which at times made her look vulnerable. Yet, I knew better. Joleen was anything but helpless. She was sly and treacherous.

  “Baby,” Kai greeted her with a stupid grin that I recognized and had lately seen in the mirror—the same smile that Charlotte put on my face.

  “Marcus, it’s such a delight,” she purred after thoroughly kissing a more than eager Kai.

  I held on to Charlotte. Her warmth and presence carried me to a peaceful place that settled raging violence and unwise impulses.

  “I wish I could say the same.”

  She met my critical scowl with an insolent smile that spread on her whole face.

  She was a fox. She was a cold, calculated woman, who pursued her personal interests and walked away when the going got though.

  She was everything that Kai did not need. But as she leaned into him and they kissed again, he looked as if she was everything he wanted.

  Chapter 22

  Charlotte

  The week never progressed well when it started with a thorough fight with James Burton. From behind his desk, my father watched me through narrowed eyes. His mouth was set in a displeased line, and his chin was lifted so that he looked down at me even though he was sitting.

  “I cannot represent someone I don’t believe in.”

  I was pacing back and forth with my hands held tautly by my side, while my father’s disposition was perfectly controlled and even. The contrast rendered me nearly hysterical.

  “Lawyers don’t ask their clients if they are innocent, and they don’t care. They do their job. So, do yours, Charlotte.”

  “Numerous other lawyers can represent Jack Stewart, Father. It doesn’t have to necessarily be me. In fact, we both know that Isaac King would be a better fit than I am.”

  Isaac King was a beast on the loose when he set his mind on achieving a goal. I considered his own son’s case, and a wave of anger and revulsion washed over me.

  He was an ambitious man, who cared more about winning than ethics. As long as he won the case and was rewarded with praise, he wouldn’t care whether or not his client had actually been innocent. I, on the other hand, did care.

  “He might be a better fit than you, but it is not a case he needs,” my father responded calmly. He rested his chin on his linked hands, watching me with the sort of steady stare that told me I was testing his patience. “You, however, could benefit from the insane coverage this case has. If Jack Stewart is cleared of all charges, you will be part of the winning team. You will build a reputation, Charlotte. If you weren’t so stubborn and set on defying me, you would see that for yourself.”

  “If, Father, if...”

  I remembered Jack’s washed-out eyes, and a chill ran down my spine. The tingle of dislike had gotten under my skin from the very first moment I met him, so maybe I w
as irrational. Maybe I was not objective.

  No matter how hard I tried to convince myself of his innocence, my gut screamed a different theory. Even in submission, Jake Stewart had looked like a dangerous man—a man who couldn’t be completely innocent.

  “Let me rephrase, then. When. With such an army of lawyers to back him up, there is no chance that Jake Stewart will be convicted.”

  “And isn’t that a little too conspicuous? Why would a man who claims to be innocent need three renowned law firms to back him up?”

  I raised my arms in frustration, feeling a deep exhaustion settle in my bones. The fact that I had been working the entire weekend and hardly managed to see Marcus had me even more restless and irritable.

  My father fixed me with a stern glare, exasperation slipping past his otherwise calm mask.

  “It has nothing to do with innocence or guilt. He is the son of a powerful man, who has his fair share of enemies. There is no better way to get to a man and diminish his strength than through his children. Somebody is trying to sabotage Mayor Stewart. You should focus on that.”

  That was indeed one of the theories that Jack’s team had presented and was trying to develop. The argument might have been valid, but not to me. And it was a theory that couldn’t be backed up, so it wasn’t going to stand up in court. My father knew that, and the fact that he was urging me to pursue a dead end angered me as much as his dismissive approach.

  “Why don’t you take up the case?” I seethed and bit my bottom lip to keep from saying more. “You control every move and every decision I make. I’m not in charge. You are, so you could very well take charge officially.”

  James Burton rose to his full height, fastened the second button of his suit jacket, and rounded the desk with menacing grace. I swallowed nervously, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I noted how I put several feet of space between us when he approached me. In his repeated efforts to train me to become the perfect daughter, he had become a stranger.

  “Better tell me what happened in Washington and what your strategy is,” he demanded, leaning against the edge of his desk with arms crossed over his chest. I let out an uneven, frustrated breath and steeled myself.

  “Since, apparently, I haven’t managed to convince you to let me drop the case, any communication between my client and me is privileged. So if you’ll excuse me...” I turned to leave, determined to storm out when his low, warning voice halted me.

  “Tread carefully, Charlotte. You wouldn’t want to make enemies this early in your career.” Both a concerned counsel and ominous warning, Mr. Burton’s words were always a double-edged sword. Only the fleeting emotion that sparked in his eyes told me it was my father speaking and not my boss. “Just do your job and defend the man. It will soon be over.”

  The inevitable end he was talking about eluded me. When I reached for the door handle, the door opened wide, and Isaac King filled the space with authoritative superiority akin to that of his business partner. I sidestepped him as soon as possible, not missing the insulted glance he gave me. I predicted another discussion with him about Marcus, and today was the worst day to have it.

  I made a beeline for the elevator and stabbed tetchily at the button until the doors slid open. Since few people had access to the top floor, the car was empty. As soon as the doors closed, I leaned against the wall, covering my face with my hands.

  When the car stopped on my floor and the doors opened with a ding, I walked out with an ill-tempered mood that had the large group of people waiting for the elevator splitting and hastily making way for me to pass.

  I marched past the reception area, ignoring Sofia when she stood to report the latest critical news. She took a step toward me then stopped abruptly when she correctly gauged my mood.

  I almost smiled, but then all air left my lungs. In front of the interns’ office, Marcus was talking with an average-looking man I had never seen in my life, but that was not the reason my blood heated.

  Dressed in a slate gray two-piece-suit, impeccable white dress shirt, and a dark blue tie that matched his eyes, Marcus observed me with ravenous intensity. Leaning against the doorframe, with a hand shoved casually in his pants pocket, his eyes glimmered with amusement and a covetousness that was both inappropriate and dangerous to display within this building.

  He nodded absently to the man, his eyes never leaving me as the stranger scurried away and I walked to him. With every step I took, my heart thumped faster, and my blood grew hotter. A fine tingle revived my senses and made me acutely aware of Marcus’s lethal masculinity.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed as I got in his face.

  My bravado, however, was a flimsy façade wrapped around the violent burst of excitement pounding at the walls of my resistance. He could see right through me. He could see how the sight of him affected me, and with a smirk, he stepped closer, exploiting my weakness shamelessly.

  “Mm...Working.”

  Amusement danced in his eyes. His muscles hardened under his jacket, which made the sight of him in a suit absolutely jaw-dropping. His rough, desire-laced voice enveloped me. I nearly sighed.

  “What are you doing dressed like this?” I snapped and bypassed him.

  “Proving that I own more than black clothes. Do you like it?”

  A part of me enjoyed his playfulness and unmerciful teasing, but the more substantial part of me was worried at the thought of having Isaac King discover that his son and I shared more than just a professional relationship. The only way I could be his handler and thus protect him from his father’s influence was to keep the nature of our relationship hidden. I censored him with a stern look, and part of his amusement faded.

  “Miss Burton, if you could verify the data I have just attached to the Williams file.” The shrill voice that quickly materialized in Victoria Brown’s grating figure startled and released me from Marcus’s spell. “I think Sofia has already informed you—”

  “I am not here for your personal benefit, Miss Brown, nor inclined to carry out your duties,” I snapped and walked away stiffly, hearing her high-pitched whisper even as I left her behind.

  “Oh, she is particularly bitchy today,” she muttered resentfully. Marcus didn’t say a thing.

  Once in my office and far from prying eyes, I sat at my desk and rested my head against my folded arms, concentrating on taking deep calming breaths. I experienced a sudden urge to cry. The negative energy pulsing in me was going to give me a headache soon, and I needed to find a way to eliminate the tension. Before long, the distinct sound of the door opening got my attention.

  Marcus strolled inside as if he owned the place. He looked elegant and yet profoundly savage. Our stares locked and the air sizzled. The lustful glint in his eyes and the purposeful quality of his stride as he approached me betrayed a ravenous eroticism that had me panting and softening for him before he even touched me.

  I stood and hid behind my chair. If he touched me, I wasn’t going to be able to resist him.

  “Not here, Marcus. I thought we settled this.” My voice was so weak that it almost sounded pleading. Yet it begged for something entirely different than what my words had conveyed. Was it so absurd to miss him?

  “Come here, Charlotte.”

  He opened his arms and waited in front of my desk. I literally shook with the need to surrender in his arms, and eventually, I did exactly that. I circled the desk, and in three long strides, I collided with his chest, sobbing with relief. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, holding me tightly, and I caught him by the waist, pulling him closer. The proximity and unrestrained intimacy soothed my raging nerves.

  Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, and I couldn’t stop them. When my cheeks felt seriously wet, part of my bad mood morphed into much-needed tranquility. Or was that the effect of being in Marcus’s arms? Despite his wild, rebellious nature, he settled me.

  “What happened, sugar? Tell me.” He kissed the top of my head and gently stroked my hair. I only held him tighter.<
br />
  “I don’t seem to see eye to eye with my father.”

  “About Jake Stewart’s case?”

  “Yes. How did you know?” I pushed away just enough so I could look up at him.

  Observing me with undivided concentration, Marcus wiped the stray tears on my cheeks with his calloused thumbs but did not comment on my weak outburst. If anything, his eyes were filled with silent approval. I had needed to shed those tears, and he seemed to understand that.

  “I don’t think you have any other case on your plate at the moment that consumes you like this.”

  I nodded and placed my head back on his chest. His heartbeat was a steady musical refrain that lulled the brewing storm inside me to a quiet, pleasant breeze. Forgetting where I was and why I shouldn’t do what I was about to do, I lifted my hand to Marcus’s lips then twisted my fingers in his hair and pulled him to me.

  “Not here, Charlotte. I thought we settled this.” Famished blue eyes looked down at me with delight.

  “Don’t mock me.” I smacked his shoulder, earning a full laugh that I quickly joined with low chuckles of my own.

  Marcus bent to kiss me, his large hands securing my face for his relentless plundering of my lips. I was breathless, but I needed more. I felt exhausted, yet he reinvigorated me. His hands traveled up and down my torso, occasionally fisting in my clothes and gripping my hips to outline his own unstoppable desire.

  “Next time you go to D.C., I am coming with you. It is not a request.”

  He rested his forehead against mine, and his eyes burned through me, not accepting objection.

  It was too soon. It was too much, but Marcus tossed me into a whirlwind of emotions that couldn’t be slowed or stopped.

  “And he already has boyfriend demands.”

  “Call it what you want.”

  As if he knew how his touch calmed me, Marcus never stopped stroking my skin. For what felt like endless minutes, we just stood there, feeling each other and making up for the weekend we had spent apart. Now and again, my eyes roamed his appetizing body, and each time, the sight of him made me inhale deeply and forget how to exhale.