Making Mina 2: Strings Attached

by Graves, Tacie

  “I beg your pardon?” She searched his face for some sign, some indication, of whether he was serious or not but his face gave nothing away.

  “It’s a simple solution—I’m going to be traveling a lot over the next few months, and you’re going to have to travel with me to make arrangements for the parts of the collection that are located on different estates,” he slowly paced back along the length of the living room. His face was guarded, but his eyes were bright. “Think of how much easier it would make your job if you were able to simply drop everything when you needed to—you wouldn’t have to make arrangements for payments, or services. No muss, no fuss, no bother.” He waited for her to object and when she didn’t immediately howl her indignation he proceeded, sounding more confident. “There’s more than enough room—you can have your pick of the guest suites, there’s one on either end of the corridor—and I promise to be on my very… best… behavior.” He was looming over her, and Mina could see the intensity in his face. It was more than she could absorb; a wave of lightheadedness washed over her and she swayed on her feet. Marco wrapped his arm around her, supporting her, in a flash and she leaned into him reflexively, his steadying hands the only things between her and the floor.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Her head was swimming with possibilities, and her body was humming with electricity as she felt his body strong and hard beside her.

  “Say yes.” He rubbed his jaw along her temple. “When I arrived you were saying you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.” His voice was soft and gentle, completely different from the Master of the Universe tone she’d mentally prepared herself for. “Let me do this for you, Mina.” He dropped his head and ghosted his lips over hers until she shuddered in his arms. “For once, just give yourself a break. Do what feels right.”

  Mina was lost in sensation. Nothing had ever felt more right in her life—everything about this man was too perfect for words—and she found herself nodding in agreement. For better or for worse she wanted him and he seemed to want her. What harm could come of giving it a chance?

  He could break your heart... Mina shoved the door closed on her fear and mentally ripped up her plans for cats and sensible shoes, throwing caution to the wind.

  “All right,” she said, taking a steadying breath. “It’s a deal.” Then, on impulse, she reached up and pressed her lips against his, the first time she’d taken a leading role in their dance.

  Shock registered on Marco’s face and Mina felt a jolt of satisfaction that she’d managed to surprise him. Her satisfaction lasted mere seconds, though. Marco spun her in his arms. “Why did you do that?” He asked, almost angrily.

  Mina looked up at him, startled by his reaction. “I don’t know,” she stammered, “I guess I was just doing what felt right. Like you said.” She didn’t know what else to say—there were no words, no reasons—just the desire to kiss him.

  Passion blazed in Marco’s eyes and he pulled her closer. “It felt right?” He lowered his face until Mina could feel their breath mingling. “Yes.” She nodded slowly and his anger disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, chased away by a dazzling smile, and she caught her breath at how stunningly attractive he was. “Good.”

  Any space between them disappeared. Mina heard a whimper and realized it came from her just before Marco’s lips claimed hers. He feathered across her plump lower lip before sliding his tongue across it, tugging it gently until she opened to him. He growled low in his throat as he explored her mouth, deepening the kiss, licking and sucking at her lips as if he’d consume her.

  Mina was overwhelmed by the onslaught. Her legs trembled and she clung to Marco’s broad shoulders, helpless to do anything but try to return his kiss. Just as her legs threatened to give way he pulled back, and she could feel her heart beating in her kiss-swollen lips. They stood there, both of them struggling to catch their breath, until she couldn’t bear it anymore. She lowered her chin and tried to turn away, embarrassed, but Marco wouldn’t let her.

  “You are embarrassed.” It wasn’t a question, and Mina didn’t answer.

  A long finger reached under her chin and forced her to look at him. Concern was clear on his face and she felt even worse about her impulsive kiss.

  “I am not embarrassed.” Marco almost whispered the words and Mina shivered as she felt his breath caress her ear. “I am very pleased that kissing me felt right.”

  Mina’s heart was fluttering in her chest and she couldn’t help herself as she tilted her head, allowing him better access. Marco planted a tiny kiss at the base of her ear, and another along her neck, until he finally dipped his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat, sending goose bumps along her skin. She let out a little mew of dismay as he pulled away and he laughed under his breath.

  “I believe your team is finished for today,” he said. Mina’s eyes flew open—she’d totally forgotten the movers! The exhibit! She jerked to attention and Marco soothed her with gentle hands.

  “Not to worry,” he said. “It is just the elevator. Nothing more.” He bent to feather another kiss along her neck but she pulled away. Mina’s mind was racing—had anyone seen her kissing her boss? Would it get back to the museum? To Dr. Peabody? Marco shook his head as if he could read her mind. “Relax. Your reputation is safe with me.”

  Mina wanted to believe him—wanted to throw herself into his arms and let him take care of everything—but she’d made that mistake before. If she was going to enter into this relationship, if you could call it that, with Marco she would do it as an equal.

  Or at least as equal as she could manage.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” she said, hoping he recognized her sincerity. “But I am still the boss on this job and I shouldn’t have let myself get,” she paused and smiled ruefully up at him, “carried away.” A flash of heat crossed Marco’s face and she wondered if he, too, was imagining sweeping her into his arms and carrying her into his bedroom. It was a tantalizing thought, but one that had to be put on hold. For now.

  Marco nodded at her and she would swear she saw pride in his gaze. It was as if he knew she could be a good manager but she was proving it, even if she was being faced with unreasonable distraction. Even more, he liked knowing he distracted her. He leaned forward, his voice smooth and seductive.

  “Dinner? Later?” He asked. Mina gave it a moment’s thought and nodded. “Yes, I’d like that. Shall I meet you here?”

  Marco shook his head. “No. I have a few details to attend to. I will pick you up. Eight o’clock?”

  Mina appreciated that he was asking instead of ordering, and smiled. Maybe this could work after all. She gave him a brilliant smile.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Chapter Five

  This was never going to work. How could she ever have thought he was anything but an insufferable, arrogant bastard.

  “You did what?” Three tables of heads turned on a swivel to see what the outburst was about. Mina grimaced in embarrassment, and lowered her voice to a hiss. “You arranged to have my things moved? Now?”

  Marco pushed back from the table, a glint of amusement in his eyes, and slowly nodded.

  “You agreed to move in, I was just… helping.” Marco smiled lazily, enjoying her temper.

  “Helping?” Mina yelped. “This isn’t helping! This is the opposite of helping.” Images flashed through her mind: strangers boxing up her under things, laughing at the box labeled Ethan’s Stuff—BURN, and the thought of Ivy wondering whether she’d lost her mind—hell, she wondered if she’d lost her mind—and she shook her head, stunned at his nerve.

  “Cara,” Marco leaned across the table and covered her hand with his, “calm down. It is done. Your friend, Dr. Fielding, said she would take care of your personal items, and everything else was basically still packed. It was simply a matter of man-power, and I am quite capable of providing that.”

  There was never any doubt of that. Mina rolled her eyes and sighed. “You talked to Ivy?” She knew t
he answer even as she asked the question. Of course he’d talked to Ivy. And Ivy, insane friend that she was, probably agreed to his plan in ten seconds flat. For some reason she thought Marco was good for her.

  Marco nodded. “Yes. I spoke to her while you were getting ready. I explained that you’d agreed to the new living arrangements and she was quite happy to be of assistance. She said something about being happy someone was “taking care” of you for a change.”

  He stroked lightly across the back of her hand, her fingers slim and delicate under his powerful palm.

  “I’m happy to be taking care of you,” he said and Mina was surprised at the sincerity in his voice. She looked at him, really looked at him, and was surprised again by the caution in his eyes. He enjoyed getting her worked up, but he looked like he was ready for her to bolt any second, and he couldn’t decide whether to give her space or throw her over his shoulder and carry her to the nearest bed.

  A shiver ran up her spine as she imagined Marco’s caveman tactics, and interested eyes followed the goose bumps as they raced across her arm.

  His voice was low and gravelly when he asked, “Are you cold?”

  Mina couldn’t think of anything that was further from reality. When Marco was around she felt like she was burning with fever, chills of excitement and desire racking her body, but never anything as mundane ascold.

  “No.”

  His eyes rested on her, an almost physical weight.

  “Are you upset?” His voice was so calm it took a moment for her to hear the steel in it. She took a deep breath and looked at him. There was no question about it—going home with him had been the most impulsive thing she’d done in years, maybe in her life. There’d been no planning, no painstaking deliberation. She hadn’t thought past her own body. When her rational mind had resurfaced she had run—she still wanted to run—but curiosity kept her in place. She didn’t completely trust him; she didn’t know him well enough for that. But, she wanted him. She wanted to be wanted by him. She wanted what he had already given her—the passion, the moments where she believed she was the most beautiful creature in the world, the overwhelming feeling that she was what he most desired and he only had eyes for her—but the only way she was going to get it again was if she asked for it. Marco had made it clear that he wanted her, but looking in his eyes Mina knew that the next move had to be hers.

  She turned her hand under his so she could clasp his. A twist of her wrist and her fingers slid between his, her pale oval nails shining against his dark skin.

  “Not upset really. I’m a little at a loss.” Marco tightened his fingers around hers and a rueful smile quirked her lips. “I usually have a plan—step by step, day by day—and everything goes the way it’s supposed to. When you step in and do things without explaining… It’s unnerving to realize that I have no idea what to expect. No control over how things are going to turn out.”

  Marco kept his grip on her hand and she could feel the heat of him seeping into her skin. She raised her eyes back to his and smiled again.

  “If you’d told me a week ago that I’d be here with you…” her voice trailed off and Marco pulled her forward a little.

  “Yes?” he prodded and she shook her head. He wasn’t letting her get off that easily though.

  “Tell me,” he insisted, and she let out a frustrated sigh.

  “I’d have said you were crazy. It would never happen. You’d never notice me, not to mention actually want me, and even if you did it wouldn’t matter. I was engaged. Ethan loved me. I had a plan, and everything was going to go just the way it was supposed to.”

  Mina tucked her chin in embarrassment, the pain of admitting just how clueless she’d been hurting even more than the actual pain of losing Ethan. Marco leaned across the table and lifted her chin until she had to look him in the eyes.

  “And now?” He wasn’t going to make it easy for her. She braced herself and shifted slightly until she could rub her cheek against his calloused fingertip.

  “Now, I can’t imagine going back.” She took a leap of faith. “I don’t want to go back.”

  Mina watched as heat flared in his eyes, pleasure flooding her at the proof that her words affected him, even if it wasn’t as strongly as he affected her. Until Marco she hadn’t known she could feel these things, but all she had to do was to look at him and she felt her body heating, her pulse speeding up. She wanted him with an intensity that staggered her, and her life had become focused around him and on him, to the exclusion of everything else.

  “What do you want?” The words were simple, but his voice rasped across her senses, hunger lacing it, and her hand trembled in his. After this there would be no going back.

  “You.” She had to clear her throat to continue. “I just want you.”

  “And the plan?” Marco watched her closely, and Mina swallowed thickly.

  “Screw the plan.”

  Marco signaled for the server, his movements concise, his intent obvious. Within moments he’d settled their account and gathered Mina to him, leading her through the maze of linen covered islands, the faces and conversations existing only on the edges of their reality. Mina focused on the broad expanse of back in front of her, watching the muscles move smoothly under the suiting, her imagination filling in the details of what his skin looked like beneath it all. It took a few seconds for her to realize that he’d stopped before they’d reached the door, her mind distracted by her desire.

  She tried to look around him to see why they’d stopped, but an iron arm held her back, preventing her from passing along side, and a strident voice cut through the haze in her brain.

  “Where is she, Genovese?” Sharp and sneering, the voice was unpleasantly familiar. Mina peered around Marco’s shoulder and groaned—Ethan.

  “I believe I said, ‘Leave.’” Marco’s words were so cold they dripped icicles, but Ethan wasn’t listening.

  “Mina,” he said, angry that he couldn’t reach her, “I see you back there. Come out here and face me.”

  Mina couldn’t believe it. Ethan was angry—with her. He must be drunk… or crazy... she thought, before looking up at the savage face above her. Or suicidal.

  Marco stood rigidly in front of her, his body blocking most of the aisle, but Mina refused to hide. She patted the arm that held her and gently disengaged herself so she could move to stand beside him. It was ridiculous. The three of them were close enough to the front of the restaurant that they were visible from all sides, and everyone was watching. Anger radiated off the man beside her and she patted his arm again, whether to soothe him or herself she wasn’t sure. She just hoped she could talk some sense into Ethan before Marco decided he wanted to kill him.

  “I don’t know what you want, Ethan,” she said, her voice pitched low so it wouldn’t carry farther than the troublesome blond in front of her. “But whatever it is can wait. This is not the time or the place to have this conversation.”

  Ethan took an unsteady step forward. His eyes were a little glassy and his face was red. Definitely drunk. “And just when would the proper time and place be, then? At home? No, I’m sorry. That won’t work since you moved all your belongings out while I was out of town.” He sounded so aggrieved, so put upon, that Mina snorted.

  “Well, of course I did! What did you expect?” Marco’s arm slipped around her waist again and he pulled her back against the hard length of his body. Ethan’s eyes followed the movement, focusing on the hand that gripped her hip possessively, and Mina spoke again, trying to draw his attention away from Marco. “There was no reason for me to stay. You made that perfectly clear.”

  She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice, and Ethan tut-tutted at her. “Don’t be like that, Mina. And what is he doing here?” He turned unsteadily to Marco. “Did she come to you with a sob story about how badly she’d been treated? I’d have thought you’d know better than to believe something like that. It was nothing—I was just having a little fun, and Miss Priss here has gone and blown it all
out of proportion. As usual.” The sneer in his voice thickened, and an angry red mist floated across Mina’s vision causing her to forget about the audience around them.

  “I blew it out of proportion?” She raised a pale pink manicured finger and jabbed it at Ethan. “If finding my fiancé screwing another woman in my bed isn’t a reason for me to be angry, I’d like to know what is.”

  Ethan rolled his eyes and looked to Marco. “See? Completely out of proportion. She’s like those artifacts in the museum where she works. Dry, dusty, and dull.” When Marco didn’t sympathize he turned his attention back to Mina. “If you’re trying to make me jealous, then this,” he snickered as he waved a hand at the two of them, not believing for an instant that she had found comfort in the arms of the handsome Italian, “isn’t the way to go about it. You should at least have found someone more believable.” He shook his head at Marco, “No offense, Mr. Genovese, I’m sure you’re accustomed to women throwing themselves at you, but, she really shouldn’t have involved you. It’s utterly ridiculous, and I’m terribly sorry she’s dragged you into the middle of it. I know you wouldn’t be involved in a scheme like this if you actually knew what was going on.”

  Mina couldn’t believe Ethan’s audacity. She opened her mouth to tell him off, but he talked right over her, scolding her like a naughty child.

  “Do you have any idea what kind of damage you could have done to Mr. Genovese’s reputation? How much damage you’ve done to my reputation?” Ethan leaned forward in full lecture mode. “I’ll admit it—I can partially understand your being upset, but your behavior the other night at Carlito’s got back to the office, and you and Mr. Genovese were the topic of several conversations.” He raised his eyebrows and looked down his nose at her. “Very distasteful conversations.”

  Speech escaped her. She couldn’t believe he was serious. He fucked his assistant, called her horrible names, crushed her self-esteem, drove her to drink and debauchery, and she was distasteful? He was unbelievable.