“I tried to tell him that I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to her. By then things had gotten so out of control, I guess I just felt it best that I get out of there, you know?” She looked up at Marcus after replacing the shades to shield her black eye. “He was just so angry, and I’d never seen him so irate,” Panthea said shaking her head.
“I don’t care how mad he gets. He has no right to put his hands on you,” Marcus spat. “Do you want to press charges?”
“No. Nothing like that. I think I’ll be spending enough time in court; don’t you?” Panthea sighed harder this time.
The waiter returned with their drinks and skillfully placed them down on a small table. Before he could leave, Panthea grabbed the stem of her glass and with a trembling hand took the rim to her lips. She took a healthy gulp and squeezed her eyes shut as she savored the liquor’s taste.
For the next hour Marcus hung on her every word as she replayed the dreadful evening for him. By the time she swallowed the last of their third round, Panthea was ready to go.
“I’m not going back there,” she insisted. “I’m not. I just think he needs time to cool off.”
That’s when something took over and Marcus opened his arms for her. Without any hesitation, Panthea fell into his embrace and before she could control it, tears started to flow.
“It’s gonna be okay. I promise. It’ll be just fine,” Marcus said, consoling her.
Once they left the bar and had gotten to their cars, Marcus told Panthea to follow him. Behind the wheel of her car, Panthea struggled to keep up with him. She thought about what might be possible between the sexy lawyer and herself. But quickly scolded herself for even thinking such thoughts.
Panthea told herself sex should be the very last thing on her mind. First, she needed to beat the murder charge and get things straight with Scott before she started thinking about giving herself to another man, especially the man who could soon hold her fate in his hands. No, she didn’t even want to go that route.
At was after one o'clock in the morning when Marcus and Panthea pulled up at the Four Seasons Hotel and the valets took their vehicles.
“She’ll be staying overnight,” he told the parking attendant who passed claim tickets to him and Panthea.
“Yes, sir,” the young man answered.
“Why don’t you have a seat in the lobby, and I’ll take care of things at the desk,” Marcus offered as soon as they walked through the hotel’s doors, his hand at the small of her back.
Panthea did just that. She enjoyed the way Marcus had sprung into action to care for her. He was such a gentleman. When he approached her with the key card and motioned toward the elevator, she struggled to calm the butterflies swirling in her stomach. She had long admitted her attraction to him, but there was nothing like a good old fashion rescue to make a man even more appealing.
At that moment, she felt like a damsel in distress, and she didn’t mind the sappy role she’d taken on one bit. She smiled at the thought as they stepped into the elevator car and rode up to the twenty-first floor. For at least one night, he had put her mind at ease.
“I want you to call me at any hour if you need anything.” He insisted as he held the door open for her to step off the elevator.
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“Oh, I think you’ve done enough already,” she said sincerely.
“No, you let me be the judge of that. I’m serious. It doesn’t matter the time. You promise you’ll call me if you need anything, you understand?”
Panthea nodded as they stopped at the room door.
“Now, here’s your key. And remember, call if you need something, anything,” he again reminded.
Marcus didn’t want to be really forward about it, but he wanted her to call him and not to talk about her case. Everything about Panthea Daniels made him want her even more. He could tell that she wanted him, wanted him as much as he wanted her. And here they were, hot for each other, standing politely outside a hotel room. Marcus wanted her to unlock the door and invite him in. Once inside, he would peel that dress off her and devour every inch of her luscious body.
She didn’t miss the hidden meaning behind his words, noted it as a matter of fact. Panthea took the key and immediately slid it into the lock. Panthea grabbed the handle, but turned back to Marcus before entering her room. “Thank you,” she said and meant it.
“Don’t even mention it.”
“Wait,” Panthea said, before he could turn and leave. Marcus turned to her, just in time to intercept her soft and succulent lips. “Good Night, Marcus.”
“Good night, Panthea.”
“We’ll speak in the morning?” Panthea asked.
“Definitely,” Marcus said and watched the door close gently in his face.
11