Clara's soft breathing was all he could hear when his chauffeur halted in front of her building. Exhaustion had first kicked in after that heavy sexual session, making him guilty for having used her to relieve his tension. Not that she'd had any complaints after her third orgasm, but guilt was nudging at him because he was supposed to be explaining to her why she shouldn't chant Marie Claire's praises to him, and though she would find out soon when he exposed the old bitch and had everything she had worked for crashing down, he felt guilty because he had used Clara. Simple. Which was a novelty for him considering how much he had reveled in using manipulative methods to get what he wanted from people. Those tactics had helped him get to where he was now. He hadn't lied to her about his background, but keeping her in the dark was close to that. Yet the thought of opening those wounds in his memory made it easier to shut his trap instead of spilling. The limo which had been following
'Don't wake her up, please' Please? The most arrogant aloof chairman of an ultra multi-billion dollar global corporation whose face the lower employees only saw once in a while hadn't only just carried Clara into her room and tucked her into bed, but had also politely asked them not to wake her up? To let her sleep and keep them- Sophie particularly- in suspense for the rest of the night? Like hell they were going to let that rare an opportunity pass them by. And did they wait for the door to close behind Andre before rushing into the room? Or did they gently nudge her awake as they would a babe? It would be a cold day in hell before they garnered that kind of patience. Brenda yanked the carefully tucked duvet off the sleeping princess' body in a manner which contradicted the request Andre had graciously made of them, while Sophie targeted the tiny cute ear exposed to them and pulled... Wickedly. "Oww.. Oh what the fuck!" Clara yelped and winced in pain, her eyes flying open,
Andre had gone past the beginning stages of looming headache. He was now in a state where the sides of his head were pounding incessantly and his vision was blurry as he stared at the multiple figures on the screen. His glasses which he picked again after so many months were tossed carelessly beside the laptop looking as useless as they had been to his burning eyes. He hadn't felt this kind of migraine in a while, but then, neither had he engaged in the kind of tedious activity he had done the previous day which could have been life threatening if he hadn't built his muscles in the gym. After those hours of rough sex and taking Clara to her room, he had driven aimlessly under the influence of fear and rage at himself, a combination which had been more dangerous than alcohol. It would have been better if he were intoxicated by a chemical which was bound to wash off with time. Because hours of long drive hadn't made his mood any better, but had instead offered him time to think about
"PR insists that using the cafe will be more private in case erhm... " Jessica's non completion of her words didn't do anything to lessen Clara's already damp anxious mood. She was as scared as the PR team was that something might happen to ruin the partnership which seemed too good to be true. Honestly, she had been feeling as though she won the lottery when they replied immediately in consideration of her proposal, because not only did they already have good advertisements and popularity, but she had dared give a condition. Then she had been too busy and excited about the project to think of any possibility which might hint at pessimism. Perhaps her already dampened mood born from heartache had influenced the sudden anxiety that washed her aglow, casting her brows and eyes into pictures of sadness, her lips barely able to make many sentences. "Are you okay, ma'am?" Jessica halted a little in her steps, her tone laddened with concern. Clara realised then that she hadn't said anyt
'There are many things going on with me that I can't explain now, but I want you to know that I'm not playing with you. And I don't intend to.'Those words, spoken with the calmest and the most affective voice had the burning fire of rage she felt quenching as soon as she heard them. But it did nothing for the anguish she was experiencing even as they kept replaying in her head.What was she to do? She had fallen in love with the one man who had made it clear from the outset that he wasn't interested in whatever that had to do with the depth of feelings she had for him.Yet she couldn't walk away from him even with that awareness, but had her traitorous heart going out to him when he muttered those words, her eyes taking on the resistance in his expression. His fingers had been itching to touch her, reaching out to her and withdrawing at the last minute.Then he had swallowed hard and requested that they make it through the meeting first. Honestly at the moment, she wasn't interested
If it was possible for the wheel which controlled time to come to a selective halt; ceasing breathing while every other activity happened in front of people, that was how Andre felt the moment he set his eyes on the woman who had dared appear before him of her own volition. He'd had it all planned out, fed on the imagination of making her plead for mercy all those years. But not once had he conjured the possibility of Marie coming on her own. She'd caught him off guard at the time he hadn't expected it the most. This was... supposed to be a business meeting to discuss a potential collaboration, not an opportunity for Viscount to make a comeback in the most vicious way; bringing the one woman he detested the most to him. Andre felt himself crumble inwardly, understood the concept of air being knocked out of someone unexpectedly, his heart wrenching in pain, his eyes watering in anguish. He was in an indescribable state of mental disorganisation and felt the world close in on him,
"Dinner has become cold, ma'am. Should I have them reheat it or are you still waiting for...the boss? You still haven't had lunch yet." Andre's housekeeper had a tone laddened with concern and a little bit of pity for her. As though she had been abandoned by her lover or something. The staff had started giving her that look three hours into her arrival, and then come to ask her each hour after that, whether she still wasn't going to have the meal they prepared. Apparently the chef had been excited by her presence and graced the table with courses of meal. A shame that she couldn't muster any appetite to eat. "Don't worry, you can just retire. I'll heat it up when he...returns." Her voice had grown soft after hours of lying and sitting and pacing the living room, her hair disheveled from the raking of her fingers scattering the permed professional style it had been in earlier. Now it was just a mess; full and cascading down her shoulders, her eyes dull from darting constantly towa
Clara Lynn was on a hot seat, more figuratively than literally. Coupled with the nudging worries on how to get Andre out of the shell he had reclined into, a newly received mail sat as elegantly as she did on the screen of her laptop. She wasn't aware of how Andre had handled it, but despite the fact that the meeting had failed to take place due to the presence of some unexpected guests, Marie Claire company was aboard and ready to sign the contract. And even more problematic? They wanted to present the actress Marie as their first model. Just as she had wanted it before. Clara may be stupid enough to ignore warning signs, but even her mental blindness didn't prevent her from seeing that the path she would take if she pushed forward with that deal was blazing flaming red. She had been pardoned and understood the first time because of her ignorance, but now that she was aware of whom the actress really was and the man she was in cohorts with, she wasn't planning on repeating that m