• • •
Mark had spent the ride to work from Crystal’s apartment dealing with issues at the Boston branch of his company. As with any type of business, the most challenging problem was finding strong people that you didn’t have to constantly micromanage. Normally, he’d get on his private plane and be there in a few hours to deal with the issue in person. But the thought of traveling right now didn’t appeal to him. That was strange considering he’d lived out of a suitcase for years. He’d always kept a base in Charleston, but hell, everyone needed an official place that they called home—even if they were rarely there.
Switching home base from Charleston to Myrtle Beach had seemed logical considering his continued partnership with Jason Danvers. He’d been quietly putting down roots here, which was a testament to how weary he had become of the nonstop business travel. He’d never liked staying in one place for long, thus the reason he’d finally purchased his own plane. Flying commercial sucked when you were doing it so often.
Now here he was with a house and an actual office where he spent weeks at a stretch. Jacob had been encouraging him for ages to turn over more of the travel to him, but Mark had been resistant. He liked maintaining control in all areas of his life, and to him, if you wanted something done right, then you did it yourself. Seemed easier than taking the time to train someone else. He’d been reconsidering his stance though in the last year. He was burned-out—so fucking tired of it all. Usually, when that kind of feeling threatened to engulf him, he’d find a woman and channel his frustrations into a more pleasurable outlet.
He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Angel that he had handcuffs. Hell, he had a drawer full of the sorts of toys that had been in that surprising little booklet of hers. He liked to use props during sex. To him, it depersonalized the act and made it into something less intimate. It was physical release in the basest of terms.
Mark hadn’t wanted any of that last night with his Angel. He was a man; of course, he’d get off on tying her down and having her at his mercy, but for once, that hadn’t been his first thought. No, instead he’d wanted to hold her and see the expression in her eyes as they came together for the first time. His touch had set her aflame, and she’d made no attempt to hide it from him. There was no artifice in her. She gave her body to him as if she trusted implicitly that he would take care of her.
Even as anxiety and uncertainty had clawed at him while she’d lain sleeping in his arms, he’d only pulled her closer and fought off his misgivings. His self-preservation instincts had been screaming to push her away. To send her home and put some distance between them. But for once, the part of him that was tired of being alone was stronger. So he’d allowed himself to curl his body around hers and let the rest of the world fall away.
He’d woken to her sleeping soundly against his chest, and it had felt good. It had felt right in a way he hadn’t experienced before. He’d had her in the shower, again pushing away the voice in his head that was bellowing in alarm. Then he’d invited—no, demanded—that she come to him after she’d had dinner with her bitch of a mother so that he could soothe the hurt that she would no doubt be feeling.
What was he doing? Where was this going with her? In the end, she’d be hurt and he’d be the bastard who did it. Fuck, he should walk away now before either of them got in over their head any further. Too late—you’re barely treading water now.
Even as those thoughts swirled in his head, he picked up his phone again and called Jacob. “I need you to fly to Boston today and take care of some problems there. Denny will make arrangements to have the jet fueled and the pilot waiting for you by noon.”
“No problem, boss,” Jacob said easily. Mark detected the note of satisfaction in the other man’s voice and knew that he was pleased that Mark was finally utilizing him in the full capacity in which he was hired. “I’ll be in touch when I land.” The call ended as abruptly as it began. Like him, Jacob was a man of few words. He didn’t need hand-holding, and for the first time, Mark was grateful for someone to share the load of responsibilities.
What disturbed him most about delegating was that he wasn’t sure who he was if not a workaholic. Women worked around his schedule—always had, and they never complained. His life revolved around two things—working and fucking. One had never interfered with the other, so why was he trying to fix what wasn’t broken? Why was he in the midst of making more time for a life he didn’t even have? Because you’re going to end up either alone or like your parents.
“Is she messing with your head?” Mark jumped at the sound of Denny’s voice, having been completely lost in thought.
“What’re you talking about?” he asked, looking at the other man in the rearview mirror.
“Crystal has you wound pretty tight. Don’t get me wrong—I think she’s good for you. I’m just wondering how you’re handling it.”
Mark rolled his eyes sarcastically. “I’m not a virgin with his first girlfriend here. I have no idea why you would think I’m having some nervous breakdown over Angel.”
Denny looked around, and then chuckled. “Um—maybe because we arrived at the office about ten minutes ago and you’ve been sitting back there staring into space the whole time.”
Shit. He grimaced inwardly. He’d zoned out so completely that he hadn’t noticed that the car was no longer in motion. “Kiss my ass,” he snapped at his cousin before opening the door. He could say nothing in his defense, and Denny’s laughter said that he knew it. Time to get it together and look like the ruthless businessman that he was. No need for the world to know that he’d been shaken to his foundation by a woman he called Angel. Hashtag fucked, he thought wryly. Thank God the other man couldn’t read minds.