Sam sighed and pulled her into his arms. “Are we back to that again?”
She leaned her head against his chest, wishing she had the strength to pull out of his arms. But he just felt too good. Just a moment, she told herself. She wanted to savor the feeling for just one moment longer. “Yes,” she sighed. “I really don’t want to go through with this wedding. I don’t want to be married to you.”
“I know.” Sam stepped back and smiled down at her. “I’d be honored if you would just meet me for dinner tomorrow night so we can discuss the issue. Will that be okay?” he asked.
“Sam, please…” but he put a finger over her mouth.
“I asked.”
Marabeth laughed. “Just because you asked means I’m not allowed to say no?”
“Exactly,” he said and smiled charmingly.
“Well, I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
“If I promise to not touch you, will that work?” “Will you?”
“No, but I could try.”
Marabeth couldn’t help but laugh at his unrepentant reply. “I’m not sure that’s a very good promise.”
“It’s the best I can do. Sorry, but now that I know what you’re like in my arms, I don’t think I can wait to hold you again.”
She looked up at him curiously. “Sam, do you ever take no for an answer.”
“Sure. When it is the right one,” he said. He bent down and quickly kissed her lips. “I’ll stop by here at seven o’clock. Dress up,” he said and turned to leave the room.
Marabeth turned and watched him leave, amazed anew now that she had seen his chest and felt the muscles along his shoulders and back. She liked the way he walked, she thought as he opened her door and left without a backwards glance. She wondered what his legs would feel like wrapped in hers as their bodies, completely naked, moved in time with each other.
Stop it! She told herself. Those kinds of thoughts were too dangerous.
She walked into her bedroom and put on a silk nightgown. The feeling of the silk as it moved down her already sexually aroused body was pure torture and she had to pull it off and find a cotton nightgown. That one was only marginally better but she slid between the sheets, frustrated and punching her pillow in her agitation.
Marabeth dressed carefully for dinner the following night. She didn’t want to be alluring, but for some reason, she really wanted to look pretty for Sam. She dressed in a bright blue dress with a chiffon skirt that swirled around her legs. The bodice had a square cut neckline and the sleeves fitted her arms all the way down to her wrists.
Sam knocked on her door exactly at seven o’clock. She opened it and noted his dark suit and was impressed, remembering his muscles. For a split second, she wished they were staying in her suite to continue what they had started last night.
“You look lovely,” he said and his eyes showed his appreciation for her dress.
“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself.”
He held out his arm for her and she slid her hand through it, letting him walk her down the hallway.
“How did your luncheon go today?” he asked.
She was surprised that he’d known about it. “It was fine. How did you find out that I was having everyone here for lunch?”
He looked down at her as they rode the elevator down to the garage level. “There’s very little that you do that I don’t know about,” he said.
She didn’t like the sound of that. “I’m not sure that’s very fair,” she said and took several steps back. Not too far because the elevator wasn’t that big.
“Why is that?”
“Because I don’t know anything that you do during the day and yet, you probably know what I ate during lunch and how long my work out was this morning.”
“What’s your point?”
“I don’t like being spied on,” she countered quickly.
“Why do you think of it as spying? It is my job to ensure your safety.”
She thought for a moment, trying to get him to understand her position. “What time did I arrive in my office this morning?” she asked him.
“Marabeth, what’s the point…”
“Just answer the question.”
“Eight o’clock.”
“And what time did the luncheon start?”
“One o’clock.”
“What time was it supposed to start?”
“Twelve thirty.”
They stepped out of the elevator and Sam escorted her to the waiting limousine. Once they were inside, she continued.
“Sam, I didn’t even know if you were in the building today and yet you basically know every move I made today. It leaves me no privacy. If I were to hire spies who would tell me what time you showered today and what soap you used, wouldn’t that make you feel just a little weird?”
“Yes.”
“So why can’t you give me the same respect?”
He waited until the car was moving before answering. “Because I’m here to protect you, Marabeth That’s what your father tasked me to do.”
“No, he tasked you to protect the country and from what I’ve heard, you’re doing a wonderful job of it. But I don’t fall into that category.”
“Yes, you do,” he said harshly. “You’re mine, Marabeth,” he looked into her eyes, determined to let her understand the intensity of his feelings. “I protect what’s mine.”
“Well, if the converse is true, then I should have the right to know what you are doing at every moment of the day. So I’ll start arranging that,” she said and sat back in her seat, frustrated that he wasn’t willing to see her side of the argument.
He sat against the soft, leather seats, smiling smugly.
“What?” she demanded, wondering why he was so happy now when sixty seconds ago he was about to pull a caveman act on her.
“You just let it slip.”
“Slip? What do you mean?”
Sam lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “If the converse is true, then I’m yours and you’ve finally agreed to marry me,” he said, the light in his eyes dangerous.
Marabeth pulled her hand out of his. “No I didn’t. And that brings up another subject. I want to learn karate,” she said.