4. Inch-by-Inch
“Dakota Black, a high achiever, millionaire in his 20s and a hot shot bachelor who got girls drooling for him.. Is your heart surrendering to settle down?”
I look up at him in Italics and he stares back at me in Bold.
His thick, roughly trimmed eyebrow inches up in amusement and I instantly double check if I read it right. Errh! Why do they have to write such cheesy blushing-till-my-ass questions and not ask directly?
I hear him intake a deep breath of frustration and I find myself sinking more into his expensive couch. He looks irritated and most of all, ignited. “Didn’t meet any eye-catching woman yet.” He says, directly looking into my eyes.
It’s hard.
Like fighting six fully grown fire-breathing dragons. It is that hard to stare at his toxic green eyes that penetrate into me unapologetically. And like an amateur princess, I crawl my gaze to the notebook and write his answer with his elegant pen.
Didn’t-meet-any-ass-catching-woman-ye
“What about you?”
My head jerks up in surprise as his deadly quiet voice echoes in my ears. “What about me?” I ask him with a stupefying face. What about me? My anxiety asks as well.
Dakota looks relaxed, his one hand rests on his thigh and another on the arm of couch. His long finger trails the dark stubble of chin as he studies me with his deep stare, like I am some low-budget startup he should invest in.
“How did you end up here?” My skin pricks as the deep sound of his voice reaches me again. Curiosity draws on his full lips, something that I would call edible.
“I was at the publication house and somehow stumbled here.” I push a loose lock behind my ear and try to pull my confident face. But I am not brave enough to compete with his beastly gaze, and out-stare him is a topic of different dimension.
“You are into journalism? I thought you were a student of Engineering and Computer Science.” He says without any inflection.
“Yeah. I mean no.” Something flutters in my heart and my cheeks tickle with rush of blood, knowing he still remembers my major even after three long years. Why?
Why such a good memory?
I wet my lips. His eyes burn into me and I feel compelled to tell him the truth. “I wanted money for my final semester project, so I was at the Pegasus Publications to publish my book that I have been writing for some time. But their interviewer had diarrhea, so the editor asked me to take this interview and later sign me as an author so I can get my book published.”
Heat licks my skin the way his gaze peer down at me with a curiosity I have never seen before. “You write books?” His eyes flare momentarily in surprise. “What kind of?” And asks with an interest as if he will order it the next second. No, no, NO!
My heart flaps like thousand wings and I instantly look down at the little notebook on my lap for diversion. I am not sure if he is really interested or simply asking me questions to pass his leisure time. Which I think he does not have any.
“It’s not your cup of tea.” I say, biting my lip.
My heart speeds up abnormally as he leans down towards me, a bit intimidatingly. His earthy scent hits my nose again, and I clench my thighs in response as I feel his hot gaze licking my skin.
“And what made you think, Emara?”
I close my eyes. Chills run through me as I hear my name for the second time in his deep, threatening voice. “Without even knowing what I drink.” He whispers darkly and for some messed up reason, my cheeks heat up.
I bite my lip and when I pluck up the courage to look at him, he is already watching me. His green eyes are focused on the blush of my cheeks and slowly drifts to the space under my jaw and between my neck which disappears inside my red silk shirt.
I gulp loudly. It was the hardest gulp I did and my anxieties kick in, wondering if I sounded loud. Or worse, aroused.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts of red colour and get myself back to the reality. “I just thought it’s not your forte. You seem like a logical man, who is into technical stuff and probably reads motivational and leadership books of famous auth-”
“Get to the point.” He speaks like a sharp order, a bit impatiently.
“You won’t like my romance novel.” I blurt out. And I don’t want you to read it. Please!
Dakota narrows his eyes and hints a smile at the corner of his lips. A smile that only a predator does, when he corners his prey.
“What is your novel about?” He sits back and asks me calmly, as if taking my interview. His long index finger now trails across his lips as he waits for my answer, rather patiently this time.
“It’s nothing interesting.” I lift my lashes and watch him listening to me attentively. Even while he is just sitting here, doing nothing, there is something dark percolating behind his eyes that just makes me more nervous.
“It’s a fictional story of a different world, which is ruled by werewolves and their leader.” I try to keep it short and boring. But the way his eyes glow alive, green and deep. I think I hit the wrong nerve in his head.
“Wolves?” Hiking up one eyebrow, he shows his surprise.
And suddenly, my memory files show me images of that heinous wolf tattoo on his back that covers up till the front of his chest and shoulder, while I saw him in the cage. The real reason why people called him The Alpha.
I immediately look down at the notebook and ruffle through the pages with uncontrolled heartbeats. “I-I believe I have covered all the questions. Only one is left.” I do not look up at him this time as I read..
“Being an epitome of rag to riches. What do you miss the most from your simple life?” I keep the paper and pen ready for his answer as he says,
“Violence.”
I look up at him. Shocked. Like a dramatic pause of a music.
“I miss the underground fights I was part of. Breaking bones of others, watching their ego break with my every punch till nothing is left in them, other than blood and bones. That power over another person’s life, even for a minute or two. I miss that thrill. No drug or woman could give that.”
Shards of power flicks in his green eyes and they glow brighter and greener. Like a flowing river in the wild, uncontrolled and unmanned by the nature.
It took everything in me to look away from his fierce passionate gaze and down to the plain notebook paper, that doesn’t allure me. I collect my brain which is all over his face, suit, hands, and write down his answer, word-to-word.
I look up at him one last time. The way he is reading through his apple watch and simply sitting there, he sucks up all the oxygen in the room. He screams of class, lavishness, sophistication and pure power.
Someone I should stay at least a mile away.
I gather my items and with great efforts stand up on my feet while he eases out of his seat easily. His fingers unconsciously close his suit’s button, as if he has done this thousand times.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Black. It was nice seeing you.” I feel my height sinking to the ground as he stands next to me in his 6’ 4. He gives a respectful nod and gestures me towards the door. The exit.
I can finally walk out of his claws and his almost perfect life.
“You look different now.”
My eyes snap back to him as I hear his husky voice sliding through my skin like silk. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and my face blushes with the instant flow of blood.
“Yeah. I don’t colour my hair now.” I tuck one of the escaped locks of my hair behind my ear as I pretend to not get intimidated by him. I remember I had blue hair when I met him for the first time. It’s strange how he remembers unnecessary details about me.
“Not hair. You gained weight.” He says low and deep, taking a quick glance at my body and suddenly, my self-conscious demons rises from the dark.
“I look fat?” I ask him shockingly. My confidence sinks down to my tummy, which I thought I nicely tucked behind the black pencil skirt I am wearing.
“You look better.” A smile hints at the corner of his lips as he says without looking at me, as if he clearly remembers me, inch by inch how I looked years ago.
Oh boy! Was that a compliment?