by Kiru Taye
She could sense his tightly reined frustration from his long speech. She couldn’t blame him. He’d been very patient with her. He hadn’t given up on her. Yet. Something she dreaded. If the situations were reversed, she would’ve probably given up on him by now. For that, he needed some form of reward. She owed him. Perhaps telling him on the phone would make it easier. She wouldn’t have to show her shame in front of him.
"My father kicked me out," she said with a forlorn sigh.
"What?" The shock in his voice made her want to see him right now. "Your father kicked you out of your family house? Why?"
"Actually, that’s not strictly true." She heaved out another sigh. "I left home of my own volition. My father just refused to let me back in because I disobeyed him."
"Hang on. Now, I’m totally confused. You got to Benin and had a quarrel with your father?"
She twisted her lips in dry humour. "My quarrel with my father didn’t happen today. It started over twelve years ago when I was a teenager living at home. Things got so bad that I had to leave there. But my father didn’t like that and he banned me from ever returning to the house. So these days when I come back, I can’t stay in there. I have to spend the night in a hotel or return to Lagos the same day."
"You mean your father hasn’t forgiven you for something you did years ago?"
"Technically, I haven’t asked him for forgiveness."
"Why?"
"Asking him for forgiveness means accepting that what he did was right and I was wrong. I can’t accept that. No." She choked back tears.
"I understand," he said. "When I see you again, I’m going to give you one huge hug."
She smiled through her tears. "Thank you."
"I knew you were a very special woman, strong and fiercely independent. But leaving home and taking care of yourself when you were so young? That’s pretty amazing. I mean, my brothers and I left home at eighteen to go to University, but we always had our parents’ support and love. I can’t imagine what it felt for you to be out there on your own."
"Very tough for a while. But I was lucky; I had Ebony’s parents. Her mother helped me secure a scholarship to pay my school fees and after the accident when she came back to live in Lagos, I lived with her for a while."
"I didn’t know that." He paused. "Now I understand your relationship with Ebony better. You are more like sisters."
"Yes, we are. Although, at one point when we were in school together, I used to envy her because she had everything I’d always wanted—a father who loved her unconditionally and a mother who was an activist. I don’t know. I’m a pretty screwed-up person."
"No, you’re not," he said. "You’re a brave woman who’s had to deal with some really tough problems. I wish I could hold you in my arms right now."
He growled in frustration and she smiled.
Suddenly, she didn’t want to be alone in a hotel room. She needed Mark. It was always tough on her, going home and seeing her family and yet, not being included and having to watch things from the outside. She wanted to belong, to be included, and made to feel relevant to someone. To Mark. Whenever they got together, he filled the hole in her life, her heart. Albeit temporarily.
"I wish you were here with me, Mark. I miss you."
"I wish I was there, too, sweetheart."
"Do you really have to go to New York tomorrow?"
"I’m afraid so. Hang on." His voice perked up excitedly. "Maybe there’s a way around it. What’s the name of the hotel you’re in?"
She told him, his excitement infecting her and making butterflies flutter in her tummy. "Why do you ask?"
"You’ll have to wait to find out." She heard the smirk in his voice, like he knew something she didn’t.
"Mark?"
"You’ll have to be patient, sweetheart. I’m going to call in a few favours and I’ll call you back in about three hours," came his ominous reply before he hung up.
What did he mean? Mark could be so spontaneous. Was he postponing his trip to New York so she could see him when she returned to Lagos? Highly unlikely, considering he’d already mentioned the importance of the trip.
She knew how jumpy investors could be and how much was involved in courting them and convincing them to part with their money for various projects. And Mark proved too savvy to throw away any hard work he’d already put in all for the sake of a few hours with her. At least, she wouldn’t jeopardise her business for him. He understood that about her.
So what was he up to? Since she couldn’t get back to sleep, she decided to work, instead, and took out her laptop from her bag. She managed to read through reports and produce a strategy summary within the hour. Still unsure of what to do with herself, she dressed and went downstairs to the bar.
"I’m just going to the bar," she said to the man at the reception desk.
"Have fun," he replied as he smiled at her.
The hotel had a nightclub attached to it, so she decided to spend another hour in there while she waited for Mark’s call. Perhaps a little dancing would wear her out and she’d be able to sleep later.
She ordered her usual, vodka and coke, but she didn’t move from there. She watched the people gyrating on the dance floor. She’d never been much of a dancer although she did dance sometimes. A couple of men tried talking to her and inviting her to the dance floor, but she dismissed them. Luckily, they didn’t persist and left her alone.
Another glance at her watch told her she had a further thirty minutes before Mark would call her back. She’d order one last drink before heading back to her hotel room. It would be impossible to try to speak to him on the phone in there, anyway, with the noise from the music.
A man slid up to the bar on her left side. "Let me buy you whatever you’re drinking."
She glanced at him and hid her smirk. Fair-skinned and dressed in a snazzy dark suit and red shirt, he reminded of Van Vicker from a Nollywood movie. If she was in the market, he would’ve been a tad too young for her. She preferred her men to be men, like Mark. She smiled inwardly.
"Thank you for the offer, but I can take care of myself."
"I’m sure you can," he said smoothly. "I’ve been watching you since you came in. You’re beautiful and confident. I like that in a woman."
Definitely a charmer. If she was free and five years younger.
"Thank you," she said as she smiled at him.
"My name is Efe. Do you mind if I know yours?"
She shook her head. "I just came down for a drink."
"It’s okay." He smiled, flashing a set of white teeth. "You don’t have to tell me. It’s just that I noticed you were on your own, and I hadn’t seen you here before. I was just trying to be friendly." He tipped his head and turned away.
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude."
He turned back with a smile. "It’s your prerogative."
"My name is Faith." She stuck out her hand.
"It’s nice to meet you, Faith."
His hand felt firm and warm but held none of the electricity she experienced with Mark.
He released her hand. "Whoever it is you’re waiting for is a lucky man."
She frowned. "I’m not waiting for anybody."
"Shame. Have a good night, Faith," Efe said, before walking away and merging with the dancers on the floor.
The barman placed her drink in front of her and she took out notes from her purse to pay him. But he shook his head. "It’s already taken care of."
"By whom?" she asked, surprised. Surely, Efe hadn’t already paid for it.
"I did."
The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight and her heart thudded in her chest at the sound of the voice behind her. She swivelled in her chair. Her mouth dropped open, and her purse slipped from her fingers.
"Mark!" The one word slipped from her lips before she went flying across the floor into his arms.
Chapter Twelve
The surprised expression on Faith’s face before she launched off the bar stool lik
e a rocket spelled pure classic amazement. Mark wished he could frame it and keep it forever. He stretched his arms out and caught her as she nearly knocked him off balance on his feet, her limbs clinging to his torso.
Tipping his chin over her head, he drew in a deep breath and let out a satisfied sigh. Sunshine and lavender. Boy, he’d missed her. The way her soft curves moulded to his hard frame reminded him exactly how much he’d missed her presence, her scent, her warmth. For a few moments, he just focused on Faith, on the feel of her body against his, on the basic animal instincts she awoke within him. To possess and protect her by equal measures.
The warm caress of her breath fanned his chest through his shirt, her hands like tight bands around his body as if she would never let him go. This was a different Faith from the one always on her guard in Lagos, who didn’t like public displays of affection. In Lagos, she wouldn’t have clung onto his body with such reckless abandon. She must have really missed him. He wanted to find the nearest dark corner and lose himself in her.
"You came," she whispered against her chest, her voice out of breath and still astonished.
He leaned back and tipped her head up with the pad of his forefinger under her chin. Her eyes shone bright with unshed tears but she wasn’t sad. She beamed him a huge smile, lips curled upwards from cheek to cheek.
"I will have to surprise you more often if this is the kind of welcome I get." The warmest welcome he’d ever had from her, considering she always usually held herself until they were in private before letting go. She didn’t seem to care at the moment that they were in a nightclub filled with revellers.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her soft ones, just a brush, intending to end it quickly. But she surprised him and folded her arms around his neck as she opened her lips for him. Succumbing, he couldn’t resist the temptation she laid out for him.
Desire flared within his body and he sought her tongue with his, tangling, duelling, rolling with it. They kissed for one long moment until someone bumped him from behind. He groaned and lifted his head.
"We need to get to your room. I don’t want an audience for what I’m going to do to you next."
He was panting. Actually panting! God help him. He was in trouble. This woman had his number.
She giggled, picked up her purse from the floor, and took his hand, tugging him towards the exit, her drink forgotten on the bar surface. Mark waved at the barman and followed Faith outside to cross the lobby to the lifts.
Kola sat in one of the chairs in the lobby waiting for him. Due to the last minute nature of his trip to Benin City in the middle of the night, he’d had to pick someone he could rely on completely. And Kola was the most trusted person the family had in their security team. In fact, Kola was a brother. They didn’t share any blood ties but the head of security had grown up in the Essien household, raised as one of them.
With a nod, Mark indicated that Kola could retire for the night. Faith looked up at him.
"Don’t I know that guy?" she asked after pressing the lift call button.
Mark smiled at her. "Of course you do. That’s Kola. I asked him to come with me."
She glanced back at Kola who lifted the glass in his hand in salutation as he nodded back. She smiled at him before tilting her head up.
"How did you get here?" she asked.
Her voice trembled with what he hoped was excitement.
"Don’t tell me that the rumours are true?" she continued.
"What rumours?"
"That the Essiens have a private jet."
He barked out a laugh as he tucked her closer to his side. "You should know better than to believe everything you read in the press. If you check through our annual reports, you’ll see there are no private jets listed as company assets."
"So how did you get here—" she glanced at her watch, "—it’s almost three in the morning."
"I told you I was going to call in a favour. My friend owns a private jet leasing company. He found a pilot willing to fly one of the planes for the right amount of financial incentive, and here I am."
"Gosh. I still can’t believe you’re actually here. A part of me thinks I fell asleep on my bed and I’m dreaming all this."
He pressed his finger and thumb against the soft flesh on her arm and tugged.
"Ouch. Why did you do that?"
"Sorry, sweetheart." Lifting her arm like a precious egg, he placed a kiss on the spot. "I just wanted to prove to you that you are very much awake and I’m here in the flesh."
She grinned at him as the lift door opened and she stepped in. When the door closed, she pressed against him.
"Talking about flesh." Her hand cupped the fly of his jeans and all the blood in his body seemed to rush down there. "This part seems very pleased to see me."
She squeezed him and he couldn’t suppress the deep groan that rose from his belly. A wonder his body hadn’t erupted into flames already. Something had happened to the Faith he knew, and he needed to find out what. But he loved this bold and beautiful Faith.
"Once we get into your room, I’m going to show you just how pleased I am to see you."
He cupped her round hips and pulled her into him, wanting her to feel exactly how hot and hard she made him.
"Oh, another round of door sex." She bit her lower lip. "I’m looking forward to that."
He chuckled. "It’s been a long day, sweetheart. I’m not sure I’m up to vertical acrobatics tonight. I will settle for a comfortable bed."
She pouted but he couldn’t miss the twinkle in her eyes as she feigned disappointment.
"Are you getting too old to keep up with me?" She teased. "Perhaps I should have settled for Efe, instead."
"Efe?"
"Oh, just some guy talking to me at the bar."
"I saw him. He’s okay if you’re into toy boys, I guess." He teased her in return, banishing the pang of jealousy that roiled in his belly.
He’d watched the guy approach her and watched as she’d dispatched him unceremoniously. He had nothing to worry about when it came to her loyalty. Moreover, her welcome embrace confirmed that she hadn’t been interested in the young man.
"Hey, I’m not that old!"
She swung her arm as if to punch him. Luckily, the doors of the lift opened and he ducked out quickly, tugging her along with him.
The card key fell off her hand as she tried to open the door. He took it and let them into her hotel room.
Later, he would remember the first moment she stepped over the threshold and invited him into her hotel room. Despite the location, it felt right. Like he was meant to be there.
All his instincts pealed like clanging bells, his desire flaring, filling him with the unfulfilled need to take her the way it had been the first night in his apartment.
Another look at her and he had to stop himself. She looked so sweet and dreamy. So vulnerable, and he remembered their conversation on the phone and how the need to protect her had sent him rushing out into the night to catch an unscheduled private flight out to Benin City.
He sucked in a deep breath and her scent filled his lungs. She was everywhere—lavender and sunshine—a fragrance that captured him and turned him inside out.
He drew her closer after he shut the door, wanting to get her very essence imprinted into every pore of his body. The feel of her soft and lush curves, he savoured with relish against the hard planes of his body. He buried his nose into the silky strands of her hair, inhaling deeply as he wanted to get her sweetness to soothe his raging passion.
Having her in his arms calmed him somewhat, but not enough. It still took restraint to not lift her into his arms and take her on the spot. She needed sweet loving tonight after what she’d been through.
Lifting his head, he stared into her caramel eyes.
"Your eyes are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen," he said.
His voice sounded gruff in his own ears. A wonder his tongue still worked appropriately. He would rather use it stroke her skin, especially
the seam of her luscious lips.
"Thank you." Her voice thrummed smoky and low, pulling him into an erotic bind.
He could no longer resist. Tilting her head up with the knuckles on his right hand, he lowered his head and traced his tongue along her soft lips, lingering for long moments over her plump bottom lip.
A tremor ran through her body and he felt it at their point of contact on her lips. If he didn’t know her well, he’d worry she grew cold from the air conditioner. But he knew her shiver to be pure anticipation pumping in her veins, just like it flowed through his.
A gap appeared between her lush lips, and with such an irresistible invitation, he couldn’t hold back any longer. All the words he wanted to say to her, things he wanted to ask her, just vanished, overwhelmed by harsh and all-consuming desire.
He latched his lips onto hers in a kiss both rigorous in strength and tender in performance. Faith gasped and he swallowed up her cry as he slanted his lips and took the kiss deeper, their tongues meshing and tangling. She tasted sweet and decadent all at the same time. And for moments, he lost himself in her taste, not wanting their connection to end.
Fingernails digging tightly into his chest made him realise she clutched at his shirt in an attempt to stay upright, he assumed. Her body trembled in his grasp and he gasped in surprise and held onto her to keep her up, sure that she could feel his hard-as-a-brick arousal against her belly.
"I’ve got you, sweetheart," he whispered against her cheek as he trailed his lips to her neck.
Her skin was soft, smooth satin, her neck delicate. The warm air from her sigh of pleasure blew against his forehead. She moved restlessly beneath him as he continued his caress of her skin, licking on her collar where the pulse jumped on contact.
He glided his left hand down her back and cupped her bottom, the globe filling his hand with pliant flesh shielded by a layer of silk.
She lifted her leg, corking it over his hip. As if in a synchronised dance, he raised her up and moulded her body against his.
A groan escaped him when her hot, wet mound rubbed against his fly and his trousers suddenly became tighter. The only thing separating his needy flesh from the sweet, soft, incredible pleasure she would give him was the zip of his fly and a scrap of lace between her legs.
