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His Siren’s Call -  Durga Krishnan – Published Author’s Copyright 2009

“I’ve had it with this. You are the most stubborn, hard-headed, impossible man I’ve ever met. And I’m done. I, I am just done.” She threw her hands in the air, her full pouty lips pressed tightly together as she turned to look at the straight face of the man beside her.

Marsha wanted to scream, pull her hair, pull his hair.

“You know what, let me out. Right here, just let me out,” she snapped, needing the aloneness, the space.

She’d never known a man who could get out of five o’clock traffic so smoothly, without so much as a honk. But when a man owned a eighty thousand dollar prototype car, people moved out of the way.

He didn’t say a word as she got out. He even waited until she closed the door shut and then neatly slid back into traffic, driving away.

Scowling Marsha took off twenty dollar department store heels and started walking, the cool breeze doing nothing to cool her temper.

Her head held high, teeth gritted, straps clenched in tight fists, Marsha started walking home.

She got back half an hour later, sweating but calmer, most of her irritation gone. The door of her apartment had been thoughtfully unlocked – she’d left her purse in Jake’s car.

She found it sitting on the kitchen table. Next to it was a glass of water. And the stress that had lasted the 2-mile walk vanished with the burst of laughter she couldn’t hold back.

A big, steely, hand slid along her waist, turning her, then anchoring her against a hard, muscled , chest, still in his work shirt and slacks.

“Are you staying?” she smiled with anticipation, leaning her soft weight against him, looping her arms around his neck.

His grey eyes were like cold steel as they stared into her warm, laughing, brilliantly green eyes. Her delectable, soft, pink lips curved upwards as she traced a finger against his chiseled cheeks, over his stern lips.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she demanded as he continued gazing down at her.

Without a word, he scooped her up and headed towards her bedroom – her temporary bedroom, he grimly told himself. Their argument was not over and when it was, he’d win. He always did.

Dropping her on the bed, he quickly rid her of her clothes, then covered her soft body with his own.

Hours later, Marsha woke up alone. With a sigh she flopped onto her stomach, turning her head to the windows – where he usually stood. And there he was, only in his pants, hands in the pockets, looking like a king looking over his lands.

That was the whole problem. It was the reason they met. Marsha had been the consultant brought in to improve employer-employee relations at the Smith Law Firm when Jake Smith took over the company and fired the Vice President and Marketing manager his first day.

It had taken Marsha three months to send in her reports of success. It had taken Jake three weeks to sweep her into his bed and embed himself into her life. Before she knew it, she had been dined, wooed, bedded, and now, three and a half months after meeting the man, asked to move out of her apartment and into his house.

She knew he expected her to eventually say yes. She had to everything else, almost everything else, because she was in love with him, and she didn’t want them to be locked in a power play.

But she couldn’t – not this time. And she was afraid that it was going to be her who lost and got her heart broken again.

“Jake,” she whispered, suddenly needing him close. He turned, his flinty green eyes warming a little as they rested on her naked, well-loved body, possessiveness and satisfaction humming in his veins as they skimmed over the marks he’d left on her body.

Smiling at the desire etched in his face, Marsha arched her back, her fingers beckoning him, then moving to smooth over her body.

It still felt strange to smile so much, or be so content, Jake mused as he answered his siren’s call.

One week later….

“Jake, I cannot move in with you. It isn’t just about us. My parents, you don’t know how old-fashioned they are. They’ll never be alright with my living with you. Can you understand?”

She squeezed the hand she was holding, beseeching him to understand, knowing he wouldn’t.

She was right. The whole week he’d bent over backward to accommodate her. He’d pampered her, surprised her with little gifts and even more with his unexpected kisses and smiles. He’d been happy, thinking that she would be his, thinking that she’d be in his bed, waking up next to him.

Now he was furious, and very intimidating. Unable to meet the flinty steel in his eyes, she dropped hers to the muscle ticking in his jaw.

His hand grabbed her small chin, tilting her head so she had no choice but to look into his eyes.

“Would they feel better knowing that their daughter slept with her boss only three weeks after meeting him? Would they feel better knowing that she wouldn’t move in with him though, on principle?”

As he heard the words leaving his mouth, Jake knew he’d ruined his chances with his woman.

His voice was so soft, so smooth, that for a moment she didn’t realize what he was saying. She couldn’t accept that the blooming pain in her heart was a direct result of that lovely voice.

Jerking herself free, Marsha flung up her hands, as though she was warding him off. Her eyes were burning and she blinked rapidly.

“I am twenty-five years old and I have never let a man touch me, make love, have sex,” she quickly amended, “with me. I slept with you because I adored you, and you dare throw it back in my face? I have let you railroad me into just about everything I say no to because I don’t want our relationship to be a power play in one of board rooms. Because I love that little smile you give me when there’s no one around, because I love you.”

He watched her like a hawk, his eyes tracking the streaks of tears she didn’t even realize she was crying. Her nose was turning red, and her heart was breaking.

“But you,” she continued, weeks of frustration pouring out of her, “you just want to own me. You just want to win, because that’s what everything is about to you – winning, getting your own way, damn the other guy.”

Impatiently she brushed away the tears streaming down her cheeks, her fists tightening as she tried to control her hurt, the pain that was spiraling out of control.

Jake did not know how much her tears could hurt him because he’d never seen her cry. He’d seen Marsha laugh, smile, curse like a sailor, and mad as hell, but he’d never seen her cry before.

He reached for her, and she moved back.

“Don’t,” she whispered her voice thick with tears. “Please, just go.” She said, wrapping her arms around her middle, hugging herself.

For a moment he stood there, and she felt hope. Then he turned and walked out the door, out of her life.

Marsha walked into her room, their room. She slipped off her shoes, slid under the thin cotton blanket that still held their scent of love making and cried.

Two weeks later…

Marsha looked down, over the edge of the bridge. It was a long way down, jagged rock edges protruding terrifyingly over a beautiful, clear blue valley of water.

She took another little step forward, her heart pounding in fear. One strong gust of wind, a tiny slip, a foot off the bridge and it would all be over.

Marsha took a step, jumping off the bridge. And she screamed all the way down. The adrenaline rush, the free fall, the force of the wind against her face were exhilarating and Marsha laughed as she hung off the end of the sixteen feet of rope attached to the bridge she’d jumped off.

“Are you ready to come up?” a booming voice yelled from above, Michael the free fall tour operator.

Marsha laughed again, enchanted by the swaying water, stretching her fingertips, trying to touch it.

Then with a little sigh, she swung herself upright, letting Michael pull her up, unable to the laughter spilling out of her. She’d done the right thing, taking her vacation and hiking Mexico’s waterfalls. She was so exhausted by the end of the day, she had no energy to cry. She was over Jake. She’d gone skinny dipping, camping, cooking over a campfire, and now free-falling.

Marsha laughed; and choked on her laughter as she looked up into the face of the man pulling her up.

“Jake,” she whispered, staring up at the man looking down at her.

Nothing showed in his eyes. And even in hundred degree weather, while she looked like a dirty street urchin, he looked gorgeous, dangerous wild. The sweat made his shirt cling to his gorgeous muscles, emphasizing them, and Marsha wanted to snuggle up against him immediately.

Ignoring the hand he held out, she gripped the railing, climbing over it. Her hands were shaking as they fumbled with the rope around her waist.

“Marsha,” she heard him say in that smooth commanding voice. She ignored him, concentrating on the rope. ‘Where the hell was Michael?’

It was too jumbled, she didn’t know where the ends were and she could smell him. After three miserable, lonely, tear-filled weeks, she could smell him – male, spicy, clean and just him.

“Marsha,” she could hear the growing impatience in his voice, and she felt a spurt of amusement. So much for her theory that he was here to grovel – the man probably did not even know such a word existed.

Finally he grabbed her hands, her slender and … rough. For a moment he paused, turning her them over, lightly smoothing his thumbs over the calluses and cuts she’d gotten over the three weeks. He’d have to get her some ointment for it, Jake told himself, surprised at how aroused her little adventure had made him.

And then he remembered how annoyed he was supposed to be. He’d sent flowers to her office only to find out that his girlfriend had taken a month long vacation for personal reasons, to some place in Mexico. It had taken him a week to finally find out where and another two of following her trail, all over the damn country.

“Look at me,” he growled, a hand cupping her chin, intending to force her to meet his eyes.

Immediately her whole body tensed, and his hand dropped.

Marsha did not look at him, expecting him to shake her, or even throw her over his shoulder like a caveman.

‘Let him try,’ she fumed at the thought. ‘She’d jolly well slug him this time.’

She was not expecting him to go down on a knee, her hands still clasped in his, those expressionless eyes full of … love.

The tears she was fighting so hard to hold back fell, and with a cry she launched herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I missed you so damn much baby. Three damn weeks I have spent trekking across this damn country, one peak after the other to find you swinging off a damn rope off a damn bridge. Do you have any idea how bloody worried I was?” he growled into her hair, his arms tightening around her.

He sounded so impressively stern and intimidating Jake thought with a spurt of approval. it was probably going to earn him a smack over the head, he thought, grinning.

His little minx just buried her face in his neck, wriggling her body to get more comfortable.

“I love you. I need you in my life, you are going to move in with me as soon as you get back.” he deliberately ordered her, wanting her fighting and furious so he could have his way with her.

Instead she lifted her head, and cupped his face in her hands, kissed him gently on the lips.

“Ask me first,” she whispered, smiling like a woman in love with the man who’d give her his life.

“Spoilsport,” he growled, pressing a hard kiss against her soft lips. Leaving a hand anchored around her waist, he reached the other into his pocket and pulled out a black, velvet box.

“Will you marry me Marsha?” he finally, after two weeks and six days of carrying the ring around, popped the question.

Her face shone like the sun, and he fell in love all over again with the woman in his arms.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she laughed, kissing him again, and again, and again.

And of course, they lived happily ever after.

By: Durga Krishnan – Authors’ Copyright 2009

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