DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
---------------------------------------------------------
alifepress
HTML https://alifepress.createaforum.com
---------------------------------------------------------
*****************************************************
DIR Return to: Romance
*****************************************************
#Post#: 134--------------------------------------------------
Re: Storm And Silence
By: Victoriouschild Date: March 4, 2016, 6:16 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Following
#Post#: 142--------------------------------------------------
Re: Storm And Silence
By: Miss Gold Date: March 5, 2016, 4:24 am
---------------------------------------------------------
interesting
#Post#: 168--------------------------------------------------
Re: Storm And Silence
By: Shaxee Date: March 5, 2016, 10:50 am
---------------------------------------------------------
His Indecent Demands
As the doors closed behind me, my eyes were drawn immediately to
the dark figure standing in front of the window at the opposite
end of the room.
Heavy curtains half covered the large windows even this early in
the morning, and the lean figure of the man was cast in shadows.
I could not see his face. But I could feel his eyes on me.
Quickly, I glanced around. No pictures on the wall. No
tapestries. Not even a photograph of dear X with his wife Y
their three large, hairy dogs. God, did this man have an allergy
to decoration? Maybe I should have chosen the simpler of my
dresses for this meeting after all. To my left, massive wooden
bookshelves covered one wall, but the rest of the walls weren't
panelled wood, as was customary in most offices. They weren't
even painted, but consisted of the same dark stone as the
outside of the building.
Yes, I had diagnosed the decoration-allergy correctly. And I
didn’t even have a medical degree.
My eyes returned to the man at the window.
Suddenly, he moved and sat down at the large wooden desk that,
besides the bookshelves, was pretty much the only piece of
furniture in the room.
Light from the window fell onto his face, and eliminated the
hard, chiselled features of Mr Rikkard Ambrose. Again it struck
me, that for a man, he didn’t look half bad – maybe not even a
quarter. For some reason, my heart rate picked up as I looked at
him.
“Welcome,” Mr Ambrose said in a cool voice. “Kind of you to drop
by. Take a seat.”
My mouth dropped open. I had expected him to be angry. Boiling
mad, even. But there he was, as cool as a cucumber.
Hesitantly I went to the visitor's chair opposite his own. As
soon as I had sat down, I regretted it. The thing was made of
plain, hard wood and almost hurt to sit on. I straightened my
back and it got a little better.
With agonizing slowness, Mr Rikkard Ambrose rested his elbows on
the desk in front of him and steepled his fingers. Over the tops
of his finally manicured hands, he regarded me with those dark,
sea-coloured eyes of his. Dark eyes in which I could see
something rumble.
“Well?” he said, after two or three seconds of silence. “I
believe I already told you that I do not appreciate
time-wasters, Miss... Linton, was it?”
I nodded.
“So what do you want?”
I swallowed, and said nothing. God, how to phrase this?
He regarded me coolly for a few more moments, then added: “If
you are concerned about me pressing charges against you, do not
worry.
I have no desire to ruin a lady's reputation, especially the
reputation of a 'lady' who is not right in the head.” He looked
down at his desk, and studied a few papers lying there. “If that
is all, Miss Linton...”
The dismissal was obvious in his tone of voice. But I didn't pay
attention. I was still too busy processing the “not right in the
head”-comment. Not right in the head? Why? Because I put on a
pair of trousers? Because I wanted a say in the government of my
country?
I'll give him not right in the head!
“Actually, no,” I blurted out, my voice coming out sharper than
I had intended it to. “That wasn't why I came. I came because
you requested it. I came to take up the position of your private
secretary.”
His eyes, having perused line after line of whatever document
lay before him, froze.
Then they snapped up to me. His face seemed not quite as
expressionless as before, now. Silence hovered over the two of
us, thick and heavy.
Finally, he said: “But you are a girl.”
I bowed my head in what I hoped would be a demure manner. But it
probably looked more sarcastic than demure.
#Post#: 170--------------------------------------------------
Re: Storm And Silence
By: Miss Gold Date: March 5, 2016, 11:08 am
---------------------------------------------------------
following
#Post#: 171--------------------------------------------------
Re: Storm And Silence
By: Funmby Date: March 5, 2016, 11:25 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Being a woman is a crime
#Post#: 172--------------------------------------------------
Re: Storm And Silence
By: Hoyenikky Date: March 5, 2016, 12:14 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Following
#Post#: 174--------------------------------------------------
Re: Storm And Silence
By: Victoriouschild Date: March 5, 2016, 1:30 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Ride on
#Post#: 180--------------------------------------------------
Re: Storm And Silence
By: Chinwe Date: March 5, 2016, 3:46 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
next
#Post#: 181--------------------------------------------------
Re: Storm And Silence
By: Bimrach Date: March 5, 2016, 3:49 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Observing tinz
#Post#: 185--------------------------------------------------
Re: Storm And Silence
By: fewabomi Date: March 5, 2016, 4:11 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
next plssz
*****************************************************
DIR Previous Page
DIR Next Page