Free Seduction’s Canvas (Crimson Romance) by K.M. Jackson Page A

direction.
    “No problem. I’ll have my guy out in the morning and on this. Hopefully it will be fixed for good.”
    Mark nodded and stepped back for Sam to exit. She gathered her will and exited the elevator as steadily as she could. This had been a long and wild night. One she hadn’t planned for, and if she’d learned anything from the past it was those unplanned for events that were the most dangerous.
    Once they were outside their respective doors, Sam went for her keys and fumbled a bit when her cell rang at the same time. The cell won out and her keys fell to the floor with a loud jangle.
    Mark bent to pick them up and she looked down at him, so big and solid even bent at the knee, his close shaved head a hair’s breadth from her. He looked up at her with those damned dark eyes. All he had to do was —
    “Hello? Hello? Are you there?”
    She’d forgotten she had pressed the answer button on her phone. Sam looked down at him and shook her head.
    “Yeah, girl, I’m here,” Sam said placing the phone to her ear.
    Mark lifted his hand, handing her the keys.
    “Sorry, I just got a little distracted.”
    She didn’t like the look that shadowed Mark’s features with her comment to Gabby, but she had to cut him off. Taking that look was better than the other way around. Sam turned to open her door and talk to Gabby, leaving the enigmatic Mr. Thorn on his knees and staring at the wrong, or maybe it was the right, side of her apartment door.
    • • •
    Mark let his door close with a low click, momentarily proud of his reserve at not slamming it and taking it off the hinges as he stepped into his apartment. But then his mind did a quick jump over his actions of the night and he couldn’t help slamming his fist into his open palm. What an idiot he was coming on so strong. What kind of way was that with a woman like Samara Leighton? It was clear from her kiss at the club that she was the one used to calling the shots. He sucked in a breath and licked at his bottom lip. It was as if he could still taste her champagne infused sweetness on his tongue. He bit back a groan. Damn, she was delicious and her kiss in the alley sent him reeling. Him? Reeling? When in the hell did he ever reel? But since reel he did, how could he help but go in for another taste?
    This time Mark did groan. Damn, that right there was the problem. Now that he had the taste, he knew he couldn’t stop. Knew he didn’t want to. At this point, it would take more than his non-existent Samara Leighton shields to save him. And hell, the way she leaned into him, her breath quickening, cheeks flush, nipples hard against his chest, he wasn’t so sure she wanted to stop either, despite her pretty little speeches about space and all that bullshit.
    Space? Mark snorted to himself, his spine going rod straight and his frown deepening as he remembered the way her demeanor changed when the elevator door opened. As soon as there was an audience she couldn’t get far enough away from him, and she was right back to the cool Leighton heir that the public knew and loved. No hint of the woman that was all heat in his arms a moment before. Not an inkling that he was anything more than just another passenger, lucky to be in her presence.
    Leaning against his couch, Mark fingered the scar on his brow. He must have looked a damned fool down there on his knees before her. She was probably laughing about it on the phone with her girlfriend right now. What a joke he was. He shook his head and shrugged, but what the hell, she was Samara Leighton. Men at her feet was probably nothing new to her and the thought of that view had sweat beading between his shoulders and just when he didn’t think he could get any harder, bam, he was all iron man.
    Mark reached down and pulled off his tee then headed for his fridge to grab a beer. Popping it open, he took a few quick gulps, letting his mind wander back to those impossibly long brown legs and how if he’d only reached out