Free Getting It Right This Time by Rachel Brimble

bare ass.
    He pulled back his shoulders and marched forward with the confidence of the reigning champion into a Roman amphitheatre.
    “What a bunch of animals, eh?” he said, throwing his arms out wide. “Are you both all right?”
    Mark stood tall beneath their unwavering stares even though he felt as though he was about to be speared in the eye by the force of venom shooting from Kate’s. A long moment passed before she spoke.
    “I’m absolutely fine,” she said, pulling a mobile phone from her bag. “But I’ll be even better when I call a taxi to take me home.”
    He stepped in front of her. “Kate…”
    “What?” she snapped, glaring at him.
    “Please, just wait.”
    “No. I’m going home. Now.” She paused, tilted her head in Marcia’s direction, her eyes softening. “Don’t you think your client needs you right now?”
    He held her gaze. “Of course. But we haven’t finished our date yet.”
    Her eyes widened. “Date? Who said tonight was a date?”
    Unwelcome heat seared his cheeks and deep in his chest. “Come on, you know as well as I do--”
    She held up her hand. “I’m out of here.”
    She moved to brush past him. Without thinking, he reached out and wrapped his fingers deftly around her wrist. Their eyes locked, their breathing seeming to synchronize. He couldn’t let her go. He willed her to understand by looking into his eyes. He hoped she saw something there that would make her give him at least another fifteen minutes. Her throat shifted, her face flushed, but she didn’t speak.
    Encouraged she hadn’t slapped him so far, he turned to Marcia with his hand still holding Kate’s wrist, albeit, gentler. “Are you okay?”

    38
    Getting It Right This Time
    Marcia rushed forward and flung her arms around his neck with such force, Mark’s hand slipped from Kate’s wrist. He met her gaze over Marcia’s shoulder and saw Kate’s mouth drop open to form a wide “O,” the phone seemingly forgotten in her hand. A burst of male pride shot through his veins. She looked astonished--no, peeved. As though Marcia had dug her stiletto into Kate’s foot and trod all over her personal territory. Knowing if Kate caught even a whiff of his smugness, she’d cut his balls off with mere words alone, Mark stepped back and gently eased Marcia away.
    “What are you even doing here?” he asked her. “More to the point, how the hell did the press know you’d be here?”
    Dabbing at her moist cheeks, she threw a hasty glance in Kate’s direction before turning back to face him. “Can we go upstairs?”
    A wave of inexplicable foreboding swept over Mark’s senses when he caught a glimmer of something far from the helplessness he’d seen in Marcia’s eyes when she’d been standing outside.
    “It’s Saturday night, Marcia,” he said, carefully. “Why are you at my office?”
    Her jaw tightened and a flash of something disconcerting showed in her eyes before they glazed with unshed tears. Mark cursed his inability to ignore female distress--even if it was Marcia’s distress. The woman who was in real danger of being the reason for his ruined night.
    He reached out and touched his hand gently to her elbow. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, it’s just you being here makes no sense.”
    “I’m so sorry to disturb your evening.” She paused and swept her fingers under her eyes, offering Kate a small smile. Mark bit back a laugh when Kate gave back a grimace. “But I needed to see you,” Marcia finished, oblivious.
    “Why? What is so important you couldn’t ring me on Monday?”
    She fluttered her hand toward the door. “Well, them of course.”
    He threw a glance toward the now empty pavement outside. “The press? What about them?”
    She dug into her bag and produced a tabloid paper with a flourish. “Here.”
    Mark took the paper, looked at the headline and photo--and promptly whipped it to his side.
    The picture of him and Kate told a thousand secrets. He was looking at her in the