The Mafia Kidnapped Me

(15) CEO, King Pharmaceuticals.

Ps: The picture is Marcel.

"What are you doing here?" Pamela asked Devlin, a little surprised to see him standing in front of her bed, his expression stony and unreadable. He was looking speechless like he couldn't answer. She stood up and walked towards him, concern in her eyes.

"Are you okay? Do you have something to tell me?"

Devlin gritted his teeth as she moved toward him. He couldn't help but notice how her silk nightgown accentuated her breasts and her lush figure. He was appalled that she was so unaware of how beautiful she looked and how much he wanted to hold her.

He wanted to kiss her too - hell, he wanted to do a lot more than just hold her, but he couldn't - wouldn't say that. She had hurt his pride once. And he had sworn that that was the last time he would beg her into his bed. He never begged any woman. They had been only too pleased to grace his bed. But this one, this particular, stubborn one, he just didn't understand.

Pamela placed her hands on her hips, wondering why Devlin was staring at her intently. It made her uncomfortable if anything. His eyes moved to her breasts and she dropped her hands. She had no idea placing her hands on her hips would tighten her nightgown and would make it accentuate her -

She jumped slightly as Devlin turned on his heels and headed for the door.

"Devlin, wait."

Devlin was mad. No one, no one barked commands at him. He would never obey. But he found himself doing just that. He raised a brow at her in question.

She walked towards him until they were just inches apart.

"Thank you." She whispered taking his hands in hers. "For everything you've done for me, for putting your life out there for me. Thank you."

Oh, how he wanted to kiss her! How he wanted to carry her to the bed and make love to her till all strength left him. How he wanted to light her aflame with passion, stroke her till her legs turned to water. But instead, he yanked his hands from her grasp and scowled darkly at her.

"Don't get too excited. I only did it because of your mother. She fed me once." He said brusquely and walked out of the room.

Pamela stood there in the warm night, hurt welling up in her. She couldn't blame him, how could she? She had been very rude to him and had blamed him for all the bad events that had happened. If she was being honest with herself, she wouldn't expect him to be civilized to her.

She walked up to her bed and curled herself up in a ball under her sheets, trying to keep at bay the hurt she felt welling up in her.

~

The bright morning sun was a sharp contrast to the dull and gloomy mood Pamela felt when she woke up. Even Helen noticed.

"Are you okay?" Helen asked, concerned.

Pamela gave her a ghost of a smile. "Woke up on the wrong side of my bed, I guess. What's for breakfast?"

She dressed in a simple top and Jean trousers. Despite Helen's horrified look, Pamela insisted on being casual. She didn't care for wearing gowns and dressing up for breakfast, it was not as if they were in the 60s. Besides, who, but Devlin was going to be there? And she was disinclined to see him. He had literarily embarrassed her last night and she was mad. Yes, she'd been grateful but her anger had surpassed the gratitude.

When she got to the table, he was not there. And when Helen told her she was going to dine alone, she felt worse than ever. Loneliness gnawed at her insides. She picked at the very delicious food and retired to bed early. Later that day, her mom called.