Elizabeth Smith wandered away from the other people at the exclusive party. Her partner for the evening’s festivities was the guest of honor, Tommy Geller, the company’s new hotshot genius. He was also her brand new roommate. Whoever thought she’d end up sharing an apartment with the kid she used to baby-sit?

Seeking peace and quiet, she had wandered first to the second floor of the New York City Museum of Modern Art. Here she discovered the spacious galleries specifically designed to optimally display the contemporary works. Too many partygoers were enjoying the Cezanne exhibit for her to find a private spot. Not giving up hope, she continued walking because she knew the new six-story building would surely have some small niches, for a brief respite.

A comfortable, padded seat on the more secluded third level of the art museum became her goal. . If noise level were a clue, then the majority of partygoers were still having a very good time. With a small smile, Liz acknowledged the real advantages to this chosen escape niche were it could not be easily seen from the floor below and the natural seclusion from the one it was on.

Tonight, the prestigious museum was closed for this private party. This advance preview of the Cézanne exhibit, which would open tomorrow for the first time to the public, was quite a coup. Such a feat was impressive, she knew, and could only have been accomplished through a great deal of money being donated and well-placed social and political clout.

Her retreat occurred immediately after the company's CEO, William Waters, III, had apologetically dragged away her escort for the evening. Tommy had shrugged back at her as he was escorted away. Simply put, Tommy was the real reason for the party. He had just been hired to their research and development division, and would be introduced to all the heads of departments of the company tonight. Liz wasn't sure what Tommy would do for the company, nor did she know precisely what the company actually did. Tommy had tried to explain it several times, and she had nodded accordingly. She only knew that up until a few weeks ago, Tommy had worked for the government since earning his PhD two years earlier.

Sighing deeply, Liz was glad for the silence. “Far from the madding crowds,” she murmured. Leaning heavily on her hand, she smiled.

As something cold skimmed up her arm, she jumped suddenly. Turning, she saw the tall, strongly built man who had watched her earlier on the main floor now stood less than a foot away. It hadn’t seemed to matter where she moved through out the party, he was always there. Never too far away, but it had felt like he stared directly at her.

Several times she had felt a tingling come over her. Looking up, or sideways, their gazes would meet. Liz dragged her gaze away as quickly as possible, but the truth was that the times had started to lengthen. Hating to admit she was unnerved by the attention, and fearful of the fact she might like it, she had retreated up here. Being alone was something she was used to and even sought for her work. Fleetingly, she’d hoped she might organize her thoughts about her own show occurring much too soon.

Her heart jumped and butterflies beat their wings wildly in her stomach as she discovered who her intruder was. Immediately she was aware of a slight sweat breaking out in response to his nearness. This strong reaction was not good. He was the reason she had escaped to the privacy of the balcony. This man was not “pretty boy” attractive like Tommy was with his sculpted boyish good looks. No, his face was rough-hewn, craggy, and his muscular shoulders were hinted at, but well concealed beneath his expensive tuxedo jacket. He was tan, which made his pale green eyes even more startling and commanding. His medium brown hair was kept short and tonight had been lightly gelled into place.

He held out the champagne flute. “A glass of bubbly for your thoughts?” His voice was deep and husky as he made the offer.

Her hesitation was long, and she very carefully made sure she didn’t touch him, not even just the tip of his fingers. She took a sip gingerly.

“Trust me. I’m not offering you the poisoned apple.”

She wasn't surprised when he sat on the bench without being invited a moment later.

Damn!

Probably in his late thirties, if the wrinkles beside his eyes and the tiniest hint of gray at his temples could be counted on as reliable predictors, everything about him screamed “male”. While he may not be on a Top 50 Most Beautiful List, he oozed masculine sexuality, and magnetism.

Hot damn was he affecting her!

She shifted around restlessly on the padded seat. Everything about him was setting her nerve endings on fire. Never had she felt anything like this! She wanted to stand and move away from him, but she fought the urge. Liz didn’t want him to get any ideas he could intimidate her, in any way, shape or form! She refused to allow him…any man, do that to her. The absolute last thing she needed in her life now, of all times, was a man. Pure and simple, she didn’t have time for one!

“I’m Marcus Waters. And you are?” He offered his hand in greeting.

In spite of her misgivings, she actively ignored the bells and whistles in her gut which screamed at her not to, and took his hand. Like a tazer blast, she felt the jolt of electricity shoot up her arm, across to her spine, and what felt like every other nerve ending in her body in a single split second. As if burnt by the brief meeting of flesh, she jerked away her hand, tucking it behind her back for a moment.

Marcus acted the true gentleman.

“Elizabeth Smith,” she told him breathily a few seconds later, hating that she suddenly felt so short of breath. Her cheeks still felt hot from her rude rejection of his simple hello. Unable to ignore the tingles still persisting in her hand, she rubbed it up and down her thigh.

 Marcus sipped his champagne, the ultimate appearance of calm, cool and collected. “I noticed you came with our new ‘wonder boy genius’ Tommy Geller. I didn’t realize he planned to bring anyone. He had not listed you on the early guest list.”

Liz heard the unspoken questions in his simple words. She had seen them on the faces of the many people there tonight, who she had met so far, as Tommy’s date. In that brief moment, she realized perhaps she could divert this man by letting him think she and Tommy had not only come to the party as a couple, but were one all the time. Then he might go away before her mind started to listen to the crazy demands of her body. Coughing to clear her throat, she told him, “I wasn’t sure until almost the last minute that I would be free to make it. Several times last night he kept asking—” She let her voice trail away. Once spoken, the words sounded kind of sleazy, to her ear. The regret that welled up within surprised her.

She saw the barely perceptible straightening of Marcus’ spine her words caused. No one came to a party of this magnitude at the last minute! And the only reason she had gotten in, since security was so tight, was because she was on the guest of honor’s arm. She watched as the older man visibly, and she guessed deliberately, relaxed his posture.

She sipped her drink to hide her tiny smile, reluctant to reveal her momentary feeling of glee at one-upmanship. She had slighted his grand party with her words.

“None the less, I'm glad you could fit us into your busy schedule, Elizabeth.” He smiled at her, using her first name without invitation.

Liz stiffened as he said her name. Something in his tone, or the inflection set her nerves further on edge. What she hated the most was the knowing look in the man’s eyes at her response, as if he knew precisely why she had reacted as she had. She doubted it was possible. Still, she sensed that he knew precisely how skittish and nervous she was. Her talent at hiding her emotions was well known among her family, and something she prided herself on. For some reason, her usual cool façade was cracking.

"I've spent most of the week with Tommy, showing him around, making the necessary introductions to his staff. Funny though," Marcus shifted on the bench, and pinned her with his intense gaze. "He never mentioned you."

Liz hid her own pleasure at confounding the man next to her. She had guessed Tommy had been extensively investigated, both before, and since, he had been hired. She also knew the investigations would have revealed he had no girlfriend, fiancée or wife. She paused, hopeful her words would have extra impact. Something about this man’s “know-it-all” attitude set her nerves on edge. He was entirely too sure of himself. She had never liked being grilled for information. ”I guess it’s not so surprising, Mr. Waters, because Tommy only just moved in with me yesterday. I'm sure he is still getting used to the idea.”

Liz enjoyed watching the man stiffen again, and then redden in reaction to her words. She knew someone, or several some ones, would be yelled at tomorrow for missing that bit of information, for sure.

”You and he are living together?” Marcus snapped out the words. His anger surprised him, and not just because their investigative staff had missed this whole relationship information. The kicker was he found himself attracted to this blonde beauty more and more with each passing second. He had imagined himself with her, over the course of the evening, in several positions of interest, none of which had anything to do with conversation, or observing the artwork. And nothing at all to do with Tommy Geller.

He had noticed her almost the first instant he had seen her, and not just for whom she had accompanied to the party either. He had taken full note of her curvy body, shown to full advantage in the sexily draped black dress. His gaze lingered long over her full, round breasts, imagining what color they might be, tanned or not? Would her nipples be a pale pink, and how responsive might they be to his touch? Would they peak up from his just talking about them, or only once he had sucked them to hardness?

How would those big, round boobs feel in his hands? Firm, soft, or just right? And that nice, round ass, he had wondered, how would it feel as he fucked her doggie style? Would the sound of his balls slapping her sweet pussy with every thrust of his cock in and out of her wet cunt, just make him harder and want her more? And her pussy, he wondered, would she have just a sparse little blonde patch, or a lush, curly rug to stroke his fingers through? Maybe she wasn't a natural blonde, and her bush would be dark? Thoughts like this, plus a need to discover her identity, had driven him in search of her, and followed each time she darted away almost like a hunted deer.

Pondering his question for a ridiculously long and totally unnecessary time, Liz nodded. “Yes, we are living together. I’m sure he’ll notify your personnel office with the address change. I’ll make sure to remind him when we get home tonight.”

She had felt the pull of attraction for this man from the instant she first saw him, but she wasn't sure she even liked him. He was the opposite of everything she had believed her “type” of man would be. Sensitivity was no doubt a four-letter word in his world. Most likely no comparison could be made between men she had experienced previously. Despite the fact they were in an art museum, she had yet to see him exhibit the keen affinity or awareness she’d come to know in many men in the art field. If she did have an affair, or even a tryst, she had imagined the man would be dark, tempestuous. Her imagined lover would be like Rupert Everett, or even Laurence Olivier. Not Marcus Waters, who appeared the exact opposite of the stereotypical artist—he was big, muscular, business-like…not for her.

She liked the idea of putting up a barrier between them. She didn't think Tommy would mind the small deception. If anything, this is exactly what the younger man wanted. Even though he was five years younger, he still retained his childhood crush on his favorite babysitter. Smiling just a bit, she knew this relational information was not something she wanted to reveal to this man!

”I convinced Tommy he’s wasting money staying at the hotel,” she grinned widely. “So, he checked out of the hotel yesterday, and brought all his clothing over after work last night. The rest of his stuff is still in storage of course. We'll get it all sorted out soon enough.” Liz turned away to hide her face. She’d never been really good at lying.

She and Tommy had “sorted it out” all right. The majority of his stuff would stay in storage until he could find a decent place here in the city he liked. She didn’t want his old teenage crush suddenly rekindled for something else, which would exist only in his mind. Part of his confusion, as she termed it, she blamed on the fact she was the only person he knew in New York City. If Marcus Waters chose to assume they were living together well, so be it. 

“You don't think he is a little young for you?”

His words shocked her out of her brief reverie. She gasped and turned to look at him. There was no way she could hide the shock she felt at his insult. For a few moments she struggled with her thoughts and emotions. If Marcus wanted to think she was living with Tommy, she was okay with that. Normally she wasn’t an age conscious or worrisome person, but being accused of robbing the cradle. He was as good as calling her old! “How dare you!” She started to rise.

Marcus held her tight with his hand clamped hastily around her wrist. He went on holding her bright blue gaze with his green-eyed one. “You are a fairly attractive middle-aged woman. I wouldn't have thought you felt the need to rob cradles to fill your bed.” He grinned.

Liz focused in on the words, realizing he had most likely spoken them deliberately to make her angry. “Middle aged! I'm only thirty!” Her temper flared wildly for a brief moment. Liz stopped abruptly, refusing to be riled by this man. “It is none of your business.”

“Everyone who works for my company is my business, Elizabeth. Tommy Geller is going to be involved in very delicate work.” Marcus reached out and took her glass from her limp hand. He drained it and set it on the floor next to his own. He tightened his grip on her wrist, and pulled her to stand next to him.

Liz tugged against his grasp, but he was much too strong. She found herself dragged behind him, until they stood behind a concealing wall, a short distance from the balcony. He pressed her against the wall. The sounds from the party below seemed dimmer now, more distant, almost curiously removed. It made this—the whole interaction with Marcus—surreal, even unreal.

A second later, it became completely real as he put his hand beneath her chin, cupped her jaw, and lifted her face to his. He pressed his body against her, and she could feel his thick, hard arousal against her soft lower belly. 

Dear God!

Shock froze her mind. But it was the desire she felt, flooding through her, which caused the fine shivers. How could she be so turned on being manhandled and feeling his desire for her so blatantly. She felt her pussy lips swell, getting wetter as he moved deliberately. Her nipples were taut, hard beads beneath her black dress. For one moment, she wondered if he knew she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Two seconds later, the point was moot as Marcus cupped her left breast, holding her gaze intently.

There was no denying her reaction to his touch. Her breath caught, and then rushed away, as her breast seemed to swell in his grasp, her nipple getting tighter, harder and longer. Suddenly all of her focus was on her breast and how he was making it feel. As her breath sighed away, her eyelids drifted shut. Her heart raced madly, bounding beneath his touch.

Fight him.

Her brain commanded her hands and arms.

Marcus’ fingers stroked her nipple. He slid one strong thigh between hers, pressing upwards, against the juncture of her body.

It only took a few seconds for her wetness to seep through both sets of clothing. She looked at him.

Could he tell she’d skipped her panties so her dress would lie smooth?