radicalducati 12:When the secret becomes apparent
12:When the secret becomes apparent
I've been sitting in a silent stupor for five minutes now, looking at the test results over and over again. Blood doesn't lie, does it?
And it is what it is. Similar to my intuition. Because deep down, I had already realized that things can’t be simple. In my life, I have always had to work hard to achieve a good result. And it seems like conception was no exception.
The emptiness inside aches and reverberates painfully in my heart. I feel it clenching. Not mentioning my shattered and futile hopes. But these traitor-tears couldn’t care less about all my barriers and warnings, as I feel them rolling down my cheeks in hot trails. I swallow a burning and bitter lump of disappointment and realize that perhaps that’s how it all goes, in my book of fate.
I bite my lip and angrily wipe my wet cheeks with the back of my hand. Thankfully, Makarenko has already left.
A short knock on the door.
I only manage to straighten up and blink the remaining tears away. The door opens. I don’t see who it is, sitting on a visitor's chair in front of Zlata’s desk. But the tingling sensation on my back gives me a hint.
Damn. I am really not in the mood for a conversation.
" Milana ", I hear above my ear, almost jumping up.
I swiftly turn around. A male figure is too close. Caught by surprise, I stare at the belt of his trousers and really have to strive not to look lower. Instead, my eyes look up, involuntarily flushing. And those turquoise eyes, unabashedly, wander over my tear-stained face. Polyansky’s look changes abruptly.
" Is something wrong?
" No. What gave you that idea? " I replied sharply, enduring his intense questioning gaze.
" Hmm, " he smirks, squinting his eyes. " Are we back to informal terms again? I don't think that's necessary.
" It’s not unnecessary, " I mock him and surprise myself. What is this effect he has on me that always makes me want to contradict him?
" But I insist, " he states calmly, leaving no room for compromise.
Oh, this only fuels the fire. The hot ball I feel in my chest is teetering on the edge, about to explode. I stand up abruptly and blurt all my thoughts out:
" You can talk to your Zlata like that, " I hissed foolishly, stepping forward, almost poking a finger into his trained chest.
Suddenly, I realize we're standing too close. At least closer than I can handle. I am wound up and angry. The devastating news I've just learned acts as a trigger. It seems I might burst out at him. He could fire me for all I care, as he has others to replace me. This last thought clouds my vision with red.
" But I am speaking, if you haven't noticed. And she's not mine. We're just colleagues, " he replies calmly, and god, that irritates me even more.
" Yeah, right, " I snicker bitterly. My tongue has a life of its own, but I'm honestly past holding back. " I saw how you looked at each other today…
We both seem to freeze.
"Damn, woman! What are you thinking?!" I scold myself in my head for how insanely jealous that sounded. I realize it, and so does he. And of course, the bastard doesn’t pretend to misinterpret my accusations.
Instead, he steps half a step closer. Pins me to the floor with a heated turquoise gaze that slowly darkens. And for some reason, I truly freeze. I don't move. I can't.
I stand in anticipation. Overwhelmed to the edge. And I even refuse to admit to myself that I desperately want him to kiss me. Passionately and fervently. Just like that time…
But Polyansky clearly has ideas of his own. Or rather, greater restraint. Because he stops just an inch from me, and a wide hand with an owning gesture lands on my slender waist. He pulls me strongly to him, towards his firm torso. My skin burns even through the fabric. My pulse quickens, and a sweet molasses of languor starts spreading through my veins.
With his other hand, he slowly moves from my temple to my chin. His thumb brushes my lower lip leisurely, tracing it.
I am astonished that I cannot move. Even if I wanted to. But these half-embraces feel so good, so secure, and the fiery touches just blow the roof off.
He gazes intently. A half-smile plays on his lips, and I, overwhelmed by the heat of trembling sensations, close my eyes and savor the moment. I reached out in response. Involuntarily, I inhale his masculine scent mixed with a light aroma of woody perfume notes, reveling in it.
My boss leans closer and whispers against my lips:
" So compliant. Like that time in the club. I like you better this way... "
Just a moment. Just a moment, my brain processes the information heard, correlating facts. And the picture finally becomes whole.
My lashes flick upwards. I open my eyes wide and gaze in shock into the dark pupils.
" You?! " I exhale, forgetting about my own demand to keep things formal, and try to pull away, but Polyansky doesn’t let go.
He holds me firmly. And I push against his firm chest with my fists.