Mark's mind raced. “Well, we really haven't discussed a day, sir.”
“Molly told me you and Miss Sutherland met when she came to the office to paint your portrait a few days ago. Love at first sight, eh?” The older man chuckled. “You're a lucky man, Mark, with good taste. I like to see my partners settle down, become family men. It's important to the firm's image, you know.” He winked at Mark, then turned to the room at large and stepped forward. “Everyone,” he called, “may I have your attention?”
Dread ballooned in the pit of Mark's stomach as the room quieted.
“I'd like to propose a toast To our new partner, Mr. Mark Blackwell, who has two reasons to celebrate tonight.”
Mark's bowels twisted.
“Raise your glasses with me to honor him and his bride-to-be, Ms. Ellie Sutherland.”
The room erupted into gasps and applause. Mark swayed, but caught himself on the door frame, then swung his gaze to Ellie. He pleaded for forgiveness with his eyes. A bewildered smile froze on her face as she nodded to those around her.
Mark soon found himself engulfed by well-wishers. Patrick seemed especially surprised and elbowed him. “You sly dog, what was all that nonsense the other day about remaining single?”
“What can I say?” Mark said, conjuring up a tight smile, his stomach cramping.
“Dinner's served,” Patrick's wife announced.
Ellie watched Ray Ivan walk Manny to the door, and to her horror, plant a kiss on her roomie's smooth cheek. Manny waved to her gaily, and she raised her hand halfheartedly in response. Her mind still reeled when Mark took her arm. As they walked toward their table, she whispered, “An engagement wasn't part of the deal. What's going on?”
“I'll explain later,” he muttered. “Just remember, I've got your cat.”
Ellie reached for another rum and cola as they passed a drink tray and finished it before they were seated. He held out a chair for her at one of the six-person, cloth-covered tables and took the adjacent seat on the end. His leg nudging hers when he spread his napkin across his knee sent tremors through her body.
She knew the alcohol had affected her, but the events of the evening were taking their toll, as well. First, his assault on her senses in the car, then Manny showing up, and now everyone thought they were engaged. She nearly laughed out loud at the irony. She wondered what he would do if she stood on the table and announced that he'd hired her to make his mother hate her, and that a pregnant cat was the only reason she'd come with him tonight?
Well, not the only reason, she conceded, choosing a skewered scallop from a platter on the table. She studied his face as he talked to the man on his right. Mark was one great-looking man, and right now the pheromones were running in her favor. So what if his interest in her was short-lived? There were worse things than having a raging three-week affair with a gorgeous wealthy man.
Time to have some fun.
She slipped off her shoe and snaked her foot around his ankle. Mark jerked his head toward her a fraction, and seemed to stumble on his words, but continued speaking to his companion. Ellie smiled seductively, then worried his shin and calf with her traveling toes. Mark shot her a sharp glance, obviously trying to concentrate on his conversation. Popping the scallop into her mouth, she rolled it on her tongue suggestively. Mark swallowed visibly and shook his head as if in warning, then turned back to the man.
Smothering a giggle, she extended her left leg farther over her right and nudged his knee open. She ran her foot down the inside of his thigh. Suddenly, he jerked again, his hand grabbing her foot to halt its progress. She tried to pull away, but he held her steadfast, and suddenly his other hand claimed her foot, as well. His face was averted from her and he remained deep in conversation.
Teasingly, he swept his finger across the pad of her stockinged foot, sending shudders up Ellie's spine. Her toes crinkled in response, but he slowly and sensuously inserted a large finger between her big toe and its neighbor. Rhythmically, he explored the shallow valley, running the length of his finger in, then out, in, then out.
The ability, as well as the desire, to withdraw her plundered foot vanished. Ellie relaxed into her chair as much as possible without drawing attention to herself, then began squeezing her toes together, clasping his finger harder and harder. As the minutes passed, she grew moist between her thighs, imagining his strong fingers dipping elsewhere. As his finger became more forceful, she increased the pressure. Faster and faster he plunged. Ellie could feel her body pulse inside in tune with his finger's song. The tension mounted, mounted...
“OOOOoooooHHHHhhhhhhh!” she screamed, bringing her hand down upon the table with a solid smack. Every eye in the room turned to her, and even Mark seemed surprised, his ministrations halting momentarily.
“Are you all right, dear?” the woman next to her asked, leaning closer.
Ellie recovered, sitting ramrod straight. “Oh!” she repeated, slapping the table again, “Oh, boy, are these scallops good!” She popped several into her mouth to illustrate, smiling and nodding to everyone at her table, then waving assurance to Patrick's wife across the room. Every woman at the table lunged for a portion.
Afraid to look at Mark, Ellie kept her eyes turned away. What would he think of her now? She withdrew her ravaged foot from his relaxed hands and stretched her cramped toes. Who could have guessed learning to pick up pencils with her toes would come in handy one day?
When at last she chanced a glance at him, his eyes were still on her, slightly widened with an expression that asked, “Was that what I think it was?” She chewed on her bottom lip and nodded ever so slightly.
At her affirmation, amazement washed over Mark. He, too, had become aroused during their little game under the table, but he couldn't believe she'd reallyâ
“As I was saying.” The man to his right laid a hand on Mark's arm to resume their conversation. Mark frowned at him, and in the few seconds he broke eye contact with Ellie, she disappeared from sight. Confused, Mark craned his head to search the room, then noticed the tablecloth moving at her place setting. Then he felt her crawl over his feet. Mark stiffened in disbelief, then noticed other people at the table jump, then frown and shift in their seats. She was obviously traveling the length of the table.
He excused himself once again from the man bending his ear. With a quick glance around, Mark swallowed and, as inconspicuously as possible, bent over, then cautiously pulled up the white tablecloth.
For the second time tonight, he was treated to a mouthwatering view of Ellie's rump, but Mark didn't have time to stop and ponder his good fortune. “Ellie!” he whispered sharply. She had to back up, her rear coming very close to his face, in order to twist around and look over her shoulder.
“What?” she retorted, clearly inconvenienced.
“What the hell are you doing?” he whispered.
“Looking for my shoe,” she said simply, slurring her words slightly.
“Get out from under there and I'll find it for you,” he said, trying to remain patient.
Suddenly, two other heads joined them under the table, both male. “Is there a problem?” asked one fellow who had been paying rapt attention to Ellie all evening.
“No!” Mark barked.
“I can't find my shoe,” Ellie said, pouting.
“Well, now,” said the other man, tsk-tsking at Ellie, “that will never do.”
Mark sighed in exasperation. “For God's sake, Ellie, get out from under there!”
But now nearly everyone at the table was peering beneath the cloth and asking if something was wrong.
Mark reached forward and grabbed Ellie by her upper arm, then steered her out backward. When she stood up and plopped down in her seat, her hairstyle a little worse for wear, Mark ground his teeth in frustration. Their table companions were slow in rejoining them topside, as if Ellie had found something wonderful under the table and they wanted to experience it, too.
“Is this what you're looking for?” The chatty fellow to his right held up a black pump. Sex appeal fairly dripped off the stiletto heel.
“Oh, thank you,” Ellie said, grinning, then she reached across the china and crystal to retrieve it. The man looked curiously pleased, until his wife elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
Mark closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them, Ellie was walking away from the table, presumably to find a bathroom, but wearing both shoes, thank goodness. He watched her hips sway, then suddenly realized nearly every man in the room feasted on the same sight. This woman packed a powerful punch.
Mark felt a ridiculous urge to follow her, lock the bathroom door, lift her onto a porcelain sink and wrap her legs around his waist. If a little foot flirting sent her into orbit, what kind of reaction could he elicit with no holds barred? And where would he find her tattoo? Shoulder? Hip? He swallowed. Bikini line?
A tap on his right shoulder startled him. A smiling waiter set a plate of exquisitely arranged salad in front of him, and he was glad to have his attention diverted for the time being. That woman was going to be the death of him, or at least his career. He would eventually need a wife who could entertain a group on this scale, but not one who could double as the entertainment.
Ellie returned a few minutes later, looking refreshed. She nodded at him when she took her seat, smiling brightly. He noticed the color in her cheeks seemed high, and he assumed it had something to do with the amount of rum she'd ingested since they'd arrived. Not that he blamed her, with everything that had happened. Engaged. How on earth was he going to get out of this mess?
She seemed a little flustered still, making small talk with the ladies at the table, one of them his secretary, Monica. He felt a sharp pang of guilt at the questions she had to answer. Yes, she was so proud of her fiancé for making partner. She patted his hand. No, they hadn't shopped for a ring yet. Yes, they planned to have several children. Mark choked on a cherry tomato, but was saved by the gabby man who pounded him hard between the shoulder blades.
Children? Mark patted his mouth with a linen napkin. Would he make a good father? Would Ellie make a good mother? He studied her profile as she spoke to someone across the table, nodding and smiling. She was a beauty, no doubt. Her features were elfin, small and chiseled. Her blond hair was cropped in short layers, a style only a woman with exquisite features could wear with panache. With her outgoing nature and easy smile, Mark suddenly knew she would be a-wonderful motherâromping with her children, singing and dancing to keep them entertained, finger painting the walls if necessary. He smiled and Ellie turned to him at that instant, coming up short at something she read in his eyes. Mark blinked to clear his head and she visibly relaxed.
For the rest of the meal, Mark tried desperately to concentrate on anything but the woman beside him. He puzzled over the power she seemed to wield on his senses. This attractionâit seemed almost supernatural. Not one single aspect of Ellie Sutherland set her apart from any number of beautiful women he'd met, but in totality, she was sensational. Ellie defied science because her whole far outweighed the sum of her parts. The woman was walking synergy.
And he was completely taken by her.
Mark's hands shook slightly as alarms went off in his ears. He'd read about this in men's magazinesâand it didn't bode well for his future as a bachelor. No sir, he wasn't about to don the albatross of commitment when he'd just reached a zenith in his career. Yet even as he nodded his head resolutely, Mark's chest clogged with dread when he thought about taking Ellie home and being alone with her. The answer? Stall as long as possible, of course.
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“How MUCH LONGER?” Ellie whispered a few hours later, trying to smile. Only a few guests lingered over coffee. She could feel her eyelids dragging, threatening to close for good. She'd had no chance to talk to Mark about their abrupt engagement, and she wanted to be somewhat awake on the ride home.
Mark squinted at his watch. “You're right,” he said. “We should be going.”
They said their goodbyes to their hosts, and a few minutes later they were off.
She waited until they had driven a couple of miles in silence before she cleared her throat. “Well?” she asked.
Mark glanced sideways. “Well what?”
Ellie sighed. “Well, what the heck is going on?”
He passed a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting. “Believe me, I was as surprised as you were at Ivan's announcement. He's old-fashioned and, after witnessing our little, er, display, he must have arrived at his own conclusion.”
Manny's offhand comment to Ivan about she and Mark being “practically married” crossed Ellie's mind, but she didn't mention it. She angled her body toward him. “Why didn't you correct him?”
In the dim interior, she saw his shoulders fall in defeat. “He started telling me how important it was to him that all his partners be settled down, you knowâfamily menâand I couldn't tell him the truth. Next thing I knew, he was toasting our engagement.”