Inner Core: (Stark, #2) (26 page)

I blink at him again, drinking in each word that comes out of his beautifully carved mouth.

“I can only give you everything I've got, and believe me baby, it’s all yours, no holding back. It has been that way for a while.” He brings his right hand to my face and brushes my lips with his thumb, and his eyes follow to rest on my mouth for an intense moment. His touch and stare are reverential, bringing my already racing heart to new speeds. I lean into the palm that’s now cupping my cheek.

“One thing I can assure you of, Hales,” he adds to my silence, “is that no one could ever love you as much as I do.”

I
don’t want anyone else, D, I just want you.
I open my mouth to speak but words seem to be stuck deep inside of me. He notices my futile attempt and continues.

“I want you for the rest of our lives. There is nothing I want more. Will you marry me, Hales?”

I gape at him, overcome with emotions, paralyzed by his proposal and most of all by the overwhelming adoration in his eyes. He waits, staring at me, his face a spectacle of handsome, apprehensive anxiety.

“Are we doing this, or yes?” He cocks his head in a sweet, coy, boyish manner, a naughty, askew smile appearing on his lips.

The longest ten seconds of my life pass in tense silence til I regain the ability to form a clear thought, and to communicate. I gather all of my willpower and stammer, “No, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

The immediate retreat
of his eyes and the withering of his confident demeanor makes my heart twinge severely. I hurriedly set the box on my thighs and frame his face with both my hands, leaning toward him. Looking at him sternly, I add, “Daniel, it's not really a
no
that I'm saying.” His look turns baffled. His fading smile slowly but surely wilts.

“So what
are
you saying?”

“I'm saying that this is a lot to take in, and that until just recently I never thought I would ever be someone’s wife. I truly believed that perpetual-living-in-sin-partner would be my permanent status. And I actually had a very strong aversion to the whole idea of matrimony.” He studies me with rapidly moving eyes, his face unreadable.

“And this, wow…” I gesture at the ring. “This is something I need to process first…”

He disappears inside his own mind for a few long moments, looking behind me through the open car door. “I see. You need time,” he says first, still contemplating. “Will you be keeping it?” His question is quiet and tinted with dejection, and I hate myself for making him feel this way. “ 'Cause I sure want you to. I want you to think and keep it as a
when
, not as an
if
.”

I nod, holding back tears, and feel as though the emotions I feel toward him are about to burst my heart to pieces. I close the box and thread my legs above the gears to straddle him. He pushes some button on the side of the car seat and slides it backwards to allow us more space. I place the box on the space between us, on his thighs and frame his face with both my hands. Slowly I tilt my head toward him and kiss him. I bury my tongue in his mouth with love and with all of me. Gradually I end the kiss and remain close enough for our breath to blend. “'No' doesn’t mean never. It just means no for the moment.” We trade tension-saturated stares.

“Daniel, there’s no one in this universe that I would want for the rest of my life besides you.” His eyes meld into mine. “I love you more than I could possibly put into words.” My smile is a mixture of sweetness and mischief. “You kinda ruined it for anybody else with me. No one could ever measure up to you.” Finally a bud of a smile forms on his lips. My heart jumps in joy at the sight.

“If there is anyone I could see as my future husband, it’s you, but not now. I think that if we rush into this decision the odds are in favor of a catastrophe.”

He shakes his head and I plant another lavish kiss on his mouth.

“And this,” I gesture at the car. “This is just, what can I say? Too much, you blew my mind. It’s perfect.” I end my sentence with a deep, blissful sigh.

“You mentioned it was your favorite in Baja.” His lips pull up. I smirk at him and crash my mouth into his. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” I repeatedly press kisses on his smiling lips. “Thank you!”

His laugh comes in low bursts at my excited appreciation. “Hales, can you do me a favor?” He questions while reaching for the box with one hand and pulling me closer with the other. His expression turns solemn.

“Of course,” I nod amicably.

“Can you just try it on?” He opens the lid with his thumbs, pulls out the ring and takes my hand. In the silence and crackling tension he slips the delicate ring on my finger.

“It fits perfectly,” he breathes quietly. We both stare at the ring for a few long moments. Shivers of future promises prickle my skin. He raises his eyes to meet mine and the expression they radiate sends pangs through my heart. I kiss him. “It’s beautiful.” And slip it off, putting it back in its case.

“Well, a man can dream.” He covers his disappointment with humor.

I rest my forehead on his. “I love you.” It seems like we stay there for an eternity, holding each other and kissing, though each of us is in our own turmoil of thoughts.

When the pizza is consumed down to the very last crumb—by Daniel, my stomach is too nervous for food—and the proposal subject is temporarily set to rest, Daniel leaves to go over some work while I am left with thoughts that gnaw at my mind.

Daniel asked me to marry him.

In our bedroom, by myself, sitting on the bed, I tuck the box deep inside the drawer that holds my sketch book. The words Daniel just said to me keep repeating in my head over and over again, like some spell. A spell that leaves me enchanted. I open the drawer and get the box out and hold it tight in my hand. I glance at it once and, as though it were a piece of burning coal rather than a meaningful and beautiful piece of jewelry that holds a promise from the man I love, I throw it into my nightstand drawer and close the drawer quickly, hiding the ring away. My heart is beating fast and my palms start to sweat.

I bite my lips and hesitantly open the drawer again. I cautiously take out the box, open it as if it’s about to bite me and gape at the ring.

With this ring,
Daniel asked me to marry him.

I set the box aside and slip the shining ring on my finger, staring at it and at everything it represents.

“I want you for the rest of our lives. There is nothing I want more. Will you marry me, Hales?”

My emotions split into two polar teams. Team one represents run-for-your-life panic, while team two is browsing through a bridal magazine. I shake my head.

Hales, if anyone got a glance into your mind you’d need to kiss life as you know it goodbye and welcome a straitjacket.

I jerk the ring off my finger, and hastily place it in its box and into the drawer in a matter of seconds. I stare at the drawer, thinking no way, too soon, too crazily impulsive.
We’ve known each other for about a minute, during which we’ve faced way too many setbacks. This is insane!
Despite these thoughts, my fingers, with a life of their own, sneak over to open the drawer yet again.

Okay, if the box is already out again… I might just try the ring on, one last time, just to check that it really fits and I don’t need to have it adjusted.

I think my mind just rolled its eyes at me.

I slide the ring on again and run my thumb over it. The more I stare at it the greater the tremor slaloming through me.

“You know you can just keep it on, or let me officially put it there.” Daniel’s voice makes me quickly jump to my feet and blush even faster.

“Umm…I was just checking the size,” I mumble, embarrassed.

Daniel twists his mouth, sends me a swift, cross gaze and turns away from his position at the doorframe. I hurry to put the ring back into its place and follow him. Though he clearly hears me behind him, he doesn’t halt. I hasten my steps to reach him and grab his hand to make him stop. He turns back toward me, his face firm.

“Hey, don’t do that.” I say softly, willing love into my voice.

“Do what, Hayley?” I hate the look on his face, I hate that I’m the one who put it there, and mostly, I hate that he lets it get to him.

“Don’t let this come between us.” I press my hands against his chest and push him into the wall. I inch up, grazing my body against his, and bite his lower lip. A low, faint growl comes as a response. I rack my fingers through his hair and meet his eyes. “I love you no less than you love me.”

Flushed and still mildly heated he says, “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“No, I’m not letting you do this,” I say, and press my mouth into his. I drag us both to the floor; we end up with Daniel sitting, his back to the wall, and me straddling him. Scorching hazel meets intense brown. I don’t break our stare while reaching to undo the first two buttons of his jeans. His lips part, his tongue trails to his scar, and I watch, enthralled. I bend to lock my lips around the scar and suck it, gently caressing it with the tip of my tongue.

“Don’t let it get between us,” I say hoarsely, before freeing him of his shirt. “Don’t.” I press kisses to his chest. Abruptly he grabs me by my arms and lifts me so our mouths collide.

I fuse into the kiss, sliding my hands under his belt. He faintly growls as he welcomes my assault, and passionately kisses me back.

“Time, that’s all,” I say, as our breaths return to normal. I’m still wrapped around him, indulging in the afterglow.

He leans his forehead to mine. “Time…”

Chapter 29: Matter of Urgency

Only during the latter half of the week can I finally declare my mind a mess-free zone, well, at least in the very last stages of cleaning. It takes me a few more days to completely shake off the jet lag, and the same amount of days to minimize reminiscing about Daniel’s proposal from about fifteen hours a day and all night to only four or five hours a day. Which means I need to bring myself out of daydream land and back to the present about every 360 minutes.

Even though my response to the proposal wasn't a yes, somehow the actual idea of it floating above our heads adds a certain something to our connection. There are a few occasions when Daniel playfully teases me that playing hard to get won't get me anywhere, and that I should just say the three letter word I’ve been dying to let free. That’s of course his point of view on the matter, though my heart aches thinking of the undercurrent in Daniel’s stares. It's very evident that beneath his cool, blasé demeanor he's disappointed, I’d even say hurt.

I roll my eyes at myself, realizing once again that my mind has drifted
there
. I shake my thoughts away and try to listen to Mr. Clarkson, who is Josh’s boss, aka my boss’s boss.

Josh speaks next; he shares a budget summary with the room that includes both the summer cover and the next projects in the pipeline. I cross one leg over the other as gracefully as my black pencil skirt allows, and start to summarize Josh’s plans with bullet points in my notepad. The vibration of my phone next to my thigh draws my attention to the flickering device. I glance at the screen and press end on Tasha. The third time my phone insistently vibrates I decide to answer with the thought it might be urgent.

In a meeting, urgent?

Tasha: Yes!

A jolt of concern tugs at my mind.

I try to refrain from panicking til I find out what’s the matter. I cringe, bite my lips and seek Josh’s eyes for agreement before leaving the room. I make my most I-am-so-sorry-I've-got-to-take-this face and then brilliantly think of the easiest excuse. “Ian,” I mouth, and an immediate nod of consent flies my way.

Awful, awful person you are Hales, playing so easily with matters of the heart.
Trying to make myself invisible, I tiptoe out of the room.

“Rafael,” Tasha yelps from the other end.

“What?” I inquire, certain I’ve misheard.

“Rafael, Hales?” As if it makes it any clearer.

“What the hell, Tash! I was in the middle of an important meeting.”

“How could you not tell me about Rafael?”

Okay, I am certainly losing my patience here.

“Who’s Rafael? What the hell are you talking about? Why did you get me out of a meeting?”

“Daniel’s Baja Rafael.”

“Seriously, this is the urgent matter? God, Tasha, I thought someone was on their deathbed.” I shake my head. “What about Rafael?” I ask, my annoyance growing rapidly.

Oh well, if you can’t tame your crazy friends, give 'em either over the counter meds or the attention they seek.

“How could you not have told me about him?” To my disturbed, irritated silence she adds, “He is absolutely mouthwatering. Hales, on the scale of one to thong-dropping-hotness, he's at the very top.”

“What…how. How
do you know
he's thong-drop, whatever…?”

I can hear her feline purr before she explains that apparently Rafael's moved to SF and is now starting an internship at Stark Software. She explains that Daniel requested that HR assign Rafael to Tasha for his first week and asks me to thank Daniel for the opportunity.
Sure. He’d be thrilled to know you want to hump the dude he asked you to mentor…

“Hales, I think I’m in love.”

I snicker in return and send my eyes to the sky. “What about Brad?”
Haven't they like, been disgustingly and disturbingly hot and heavy for a while now?

“Brad who?” she laughs, definitely amusing herself. Here I feel the need to kneel, bow, and thank the gods of hot Latino guys.

If doing Rafa will exterminate any remaining notion of Brad, well, let the humpathalon begin!

“Careful not to catch a cold with that icicle for a heart you’ve got there, missy.” We both giggle. “Okay now, cradle stealer, I really need to get back to work. Let’s discuss this later.”

She sighs with clear discontent.

“Oh, I do plan on cradle-stealing and molesting this young, gorgeous soul…hmm, body.” Knowing my wicked soul mate, her honed wiles, and the candidate in question, I'm pretty positive there’ll be much more than your basic, standard molesting.