Letter

"I need to know what you are going to do about the situation with the store," Victoria bravely pushed on even as the alarm bells went off in her head.

"I wonder . . ." he started, then paused, looking at his index finger caressing the stem of his wine glass making subtle patterns over the crystal.
Her heart lurched in reaction and a shiver passed through her.

"Has it occurred to you, Victoria, that I might want something from you?" he asked; his voice velvety and his eyes crashed hot back into hers.
The wind left Victoria's lungs.

Had she heard him correctly?

"From me? What could I possibly have that you would want?" She stopped when his eyes burned her with their heat.

Her lips parted and the question fell from her lips in a quivering whisper, "What do you want from me?"

There was an endless, tense pause while he held her prisoner with his magnetic silver gaze.

"I want you," he answered in a low, husky voice reaching across the table to caress her cheek with a warm succulent touch. Victoria was too profoundly affected by William's words to react to his licentious contact.

"I want you to be mine," he whispered, emphasizing his lecherous intent.
Recoiling from him, Victoria struggled to push her chair back.

"I am leaving," she managed to choke out while she battled the train of her dress under the chair leg. "I can't believe what you just said to me. Never, ever, have I been so shocked or embarrassed in my life. Even the rowdy, rough men who came to the store and made crude comments have never embarrassed me so much."

And they had never made her feel like this. . . all fluttering hot and quivering with need.