THE HUNT

SNIPPET – MIRA

I stare languidly at the man before me, trying and failing miserably to calm my raging heartbeat and contain my fury.

How dare he?

Mason Lachlan has gone too far this time. There is always a limit to what a woman can take.

He takes his precious time to shut down and put away his MacBook, straightening imaginary papers here and there on his already pristine, glass desk.

Then he finally looks at me. I suck in a breath at the searing intensity in those stormy gray eyes. Eyes the colour of frozen graphite, they make my heart beat out of tune.

"I believe you have a suitable explanation for barging into my office and interrupting my conference call, Mira. Let's hear it. And on God who made me, princess, if your reason doesn't add up, I will take you over my knee right here."

My core clenches involuntarily at his obscene words. His smooth, deep baritone washes over me, sending a thrill of electricity up my spine.

Focus, Mira! My subconscious yells. I cannot afford to be distracted by the dark angel before me. It has already cost me more than I can bear.

I ruffle through my bag with short, jerky movements and withdraw the offending documents that came by the mail this morning. I slam them on his table, giving him my wildest look. To his credit, he doesn't flinch. He doesn't even blink.

He just keeps those icy, gray eyes on me, making the confidence I came with through those doors expire with every passing second.

"What is this?" I seethe.

He doesn't spare the paper a glance.

"You must have read it so I'm assuming you know exactly what those are, Mira." He says quietly.

He looks so unaffected, so composed, like the hotshot billionaire he knows he is. A billionaire who thinks he can go around disrupting the normal agenda of other people's lives.

"Cut the smart mouthed crap, Lachlan. Who the hell do you think you are…?"

I startled squeak escapes my lips as he abruptly gets to his feet, slamming his fists on the table so hard, it wobbles.

His eyes spark with a dangerous gleam, one I recognize as slow burning fury.

"You are in my territory, Mira. My fucking empire. I suggest you watch that mouth when you speak to me. Am I understood?"

I stand there, staring him down with my lips stubbornly closed. He shrugs.

"You can either say yes, Mira, or I’ll call security and have you escorted out. Your choice."

I tighten my fingers on the hands of my tote bag, trying to get a rein of my anger. This is not the time to let emotions get in the way. I have a lot to say and I very much intend for him to listen to every single word.

"Yeah, okay." I mutter and he sits back down.

"You were saying?”

I lift the papers.

"I had this specially delivered by an Agent Wilson this morning. You know him?" I ask sarcastically.

His lips tighten at my tone but he doesn't call me out on it. Instead, he says calmly.

"Yes, I believe I sent him."

Oh, just dandy!

"What is this, Mason?"

"Exactly what you read." He deadpans.

"Well, help me understand."

He heaves a heavy sigh and tugs at his perfectly symmetrical tie.

"That document contains a contractual agreement, miss Fernandez. It only requires your signature."

“What kind of contractual agreement?” I seethe.

"One that ensures that you remain mine and only mine for the next two years. Physically, sexually, emotionally and otherwise, you will be bound to me. Those documents ensure that you do not go back on your word. It makes you completely and irrevocably mine to do as I please and treat as I see fit for as long as is stated there. Have you signed it?"

I stare at him, shock slowly replacing my anger.

"You can't be serious." I whisper.

He eyes darken into an expression I know all to well…determination. Once he gets that look, he becomes a power horse on a mission…one that can never be stopped.

"I will have you know that I am extremely serious about this, Mira. You have denied me what I feel is mine for so many long years. You have spurned me, toyed with me, fucking played me. Not. Any. More.

Starting from the date written on that contract, you become mine. No more games."

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" I screech, not caring if I am violating some kind of sacred billionaire code by raising my voice at him.

"My name is Mira Estella Fernandez, and I am a property of no man. I belong to no one! You can take your papers and shove it up your arse, Lachlan. I will never agree to this. I will never be yours!"

My chest heaves rapidly after my violent outburst, anger burning so strongly in my veins, I almost choke from it.

After what feels like a lifetime, Mason gets up from his chair for the second time. He rounds the opaque glass table slowly, the frozen icicles of his eyes firmly affixed on me.

I startle with the realization that he means to touch me. That cannot happen.

I have learnt from previous experiences that my brain turns to a pile of mush whenever this man touches me. A slight graze of his fingers against my skin and I loose the ability to think properly…and I need all my wits to deal with him today.

He comes closer and closer and I look around the room frantically for anything…anything at all to use as a shield – or weapon.

My gaze lands on a sleek, black umbrella hung on a drying rack, attached to the glass wall and I leap towards it, positioning the make shift weapon before me as a shield.

"Stay where you are, Mason. I swear if you take another step, I will not hesitate to use this."

To my relief, he pauses, amusement lighting his eyes.

What the hell is so funny?!

He takes another step and my heart falls to the bottom of my shoes. I wave the umbrella desperately.

"I'm not playing around, Mason." I warn, "I could seriously harm you with this."

He comes to a stop just before the printed tip of the umbrella and I stifle s breath of relief.

Then he begins to shrug out of his sleek, navy blue suit jacket and I freeze.

"Wh…what are you doing?"

He drops the jacket to the floor, his gaze still burning holes into me. Then he splays his arms wide and cocks his head to the side. The movement makes a lock of straight, brown hair fall over his forehead.

God, he's beautiful. So beautiful, he makes my breath hitch.

"You want to hurt me, Mira? Go for it."

Wait, what?

"I will count ten seconds, princess. If by the end of ten seconds, you do not stop me, I will touch you." His voice turns hard and cold "Any way I please. So I suggest you act quick."

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Ten"

I gasp in disbelief. The brute is serious!

"Nine."

"Stop this madness, Mason. I am done playing games with you."

"No, Mira. Seven."

I will my body to move; to attack him, deck him, anything at all. But my feet remain stubbornly rooted to the marble floors, and my fingers refuse to listen to the frantic urgings of my mind.

"…seven…six…five…four…"

My head spins with a million emotions and I feel faint.

Do something, Mira!! My subconscious yells. But I am not capable of moving an inch at the moment. I am frozen still, rooted to the spot under those intense, stormy gray eyes.

"Three…two…one…"

He gets to zero and the reality of my situation crashes upon me. Before I can raise a finger in protest, I am pinned to the glass wall by two hundred and fifty pounds of heavily muscled male.

It all happens in a blur. One minute, I was in full control of the situation and one hundred percent ready to defend my stand, and the next, I am reduced to a quivering heap of nerves by New York's dark god himself.

I try to shove him off. It is almost equivalent to trying to shoving an extraordinarily huge mountain, or a brick wall. My hands are pinned uselessly above her head and my legs are trapped between the heavy muscles of his thighs.

We are mashed together, chest to chest, groin to groin and for a moment, delicious spasms of electricity shoots to my girly bits at the feel of Mason above me.

But that does not replace my terror…my anger. I narrows my eyes at him, preparing to give him a piece of my mind.

"How dare you…"

"Hush!" He barks, slamming one long tapered finger against my lips and I fall quiet, my eyes wide with shock.

Then he traces those fingers softly, from my lips to cheeks and back, all the while pinning me in place with those intense, gray eyes.

"You know what this means, don't you, princess? You had your chance to stop me, but you didn't. Why?" He says softly, so softly, if I wasn't he hanging onto his every word, I wouldn’t hear him.

I open my mouth to argue but he interrupts me.

"No. You had your chance to speak. Now, I'll do the talking."

He presses harder against me and I clamps my lips shut to stifle a moan of pleasure.

What is it about this man that turns my head to mush every single damned time?

His eyes light at my reaction to his touch and anger shoots through my veins. The pompous bastard!

I freeze as his head lowers until his lips lightly graze my ear, sending hot tendrils of electricity up my spine.

"You want me, princess. Just as much as I want you. Your body desires the release that you know only I can give you. And it can all be yours. All you have to do is surrender. Sign the contract, Mira, and let me give you pleasures that would last a century. You only have to say the word. Say you will be mine, Mira."

The heat of his minted breath plays havoc to my senses and my core clenches involuntarily at his words.

Oh, how easy it would be. To give into my body's demands and have this man take me to pleasurable heights I never even knew existed.

My body burns with the need to give up this silent battle and let him take the lead.

But reality intrudes like a warning bell and I shove him…hard. Hard enough to have his eyes widen in surprise.

"I am not a pet that can be bought and owned, Mason. Neither do I desire to become just one more of your numerous mistresses. I will not sign your contract. I will not surrender to you, and most importantly, I will never be yours. Mira is a property of no man."

His eyes morph into a cold, inscrutable look and he steps back, giving me the much needed space to breathe.

He picks up his jacket like nothing happened, drapes it behind his chair and sits.

The air in the room suddenly feels too tight.

He stares at me for long moments, like a predator cornering it's prey, then his eyes drop to the files on his opaque glass table and he begins to flip through them.

Just like that, I’m dismissed. I should be relieved, happy that he finally gets the point. Instead, I

I struggle to keep my expression from morphing into that of disappointment.

Then he speaks up and I freeze.

"You should know, Mira, that you do not have a choice."

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, my my stomach tightening in unease.

His eyes are cold, so cold, I feel the temperature in the room drop by a few hundred degrees.

Something's not right.

"You see, Mira" he says in a dangerous tone. "I always make sure to be two steps ahead of my opponent every damned time, and it wasn't any different with you."

He moves a chess piece on the glass board affixed to his desk.

Dread descends on me, hot and heavy. Mason Lachlan isn't called the most dangerous billionaire in New York City just for the fun it. Something's definite up here.

"You know I thing I always loved a out you, Mira?" He doesn't wait for my reply, not that I would have provided any.

"Your stubborn streak. You just way too stubborn for your own good. That fire that burns in your eyes is one of them."

He plays with the chess pieces, his eyes firmly fixed on me.

"I will very much enjoy watching that fire slowly burn out as you continue to defy me. You see, Mira, you were mine from the very beginning. I just decided to give you the courtesy of saying yes…and you denied me once again.

But there is one thing you do not know, princess. You will sign this contract, I do not care how many pieces I have to eliminate from the fucking chessboard to make sure that happens."

Those softly proclaimed words mark the beginning of my destruction.