Chapter 7

Depressing thoughts and disturbing dreams

Miranda waved Peter off on the Sunday morning, and spent the rest of that day tidying the house.

She knew that she would feel little inclination to do these chores during the week; and so she decided to get the house into as good an order as possible, so that she would only have to do the minimal amount, once she got home from work.

It also kept her busy, so that she didn't dwell too much on how silent the house had suddenly become.

Peter had spent the last few evenings out with Amanda; who had been extremely upset to learn that her young escort was being sent away for a couple of weeks. She had been determined to see as much of him as possible, before he left, and Peter seemed just as keen to spend time with her...

But now he had gone, and Miranda, for the first time in ages, was truly alone...

The evening was quiet and peaceful, and more than a little bit lonely for Miranda, and she worried that it was a forerunner of how she would cope with Peter's absence.

Peter had always lived his own life, with his own friends and interests; pretty much as she did, but Miranda hadn't realised how much she had grown accustomed to his presence in the home – even when he wasn't even there!

She realised that Peter wouldn't want to share this house with his sister forever, and the day would come when he would want to move out ... move on.

She would be left behind, a virtual old maid before her time, dried up and washed out and left on the shelf!

"Oh for heaven's sake get a grip!" she snapped in exasperation.

She decided to go for a nice long soak in a hot bath, hoping to relax a little, she lounged in the water for much longer than she ought to, and so consequently stepped out looking something like a wrinkled old prune, which didn't do much for her gloomy thoughts.

She dried herself with a thick fluffy towel, and then dropped it into the laundry basket a she walked through to her bedroom.

Miranda studied her damp body in her full length bedroom mirror.

"You'll soon be too old to care!" she gave a depressed little sniff, as her eyes slid sightlessly over her reflection.

She couldn't see how tiny her waist was, only how wide her hips seemed to look.

She couldn't see how full, and inviting her breasts were; only that her back seemed too small to handle the weight of them properly.

Her legs were long and slender, but Miranda worried that her thighs were too thick, that her skin was too pale...

She looked up at the glossy mass of her dark hair, searching morbidly for those telltale grey highlights.

"I know that you're in there!" she mumbled petulantly, when she failed yet again to spot any.

She looked at her clear features dispassionately, not seeing the beauty which others saw.

Her eyes were her one vanity, her beautiful deep blue eyes, with the thick lashes and smoothly arched brows.

"Oh well!" she sighed with a little shrug, as she turned her back on her reflection and walked across to her bed.

She reached across for her nightgown, and then on impulse stopped.

With Peter away, she didn't need to worry about modesty, she could...

With another little shrug she climbed into bed.

The covers felt slinky and sensual against her naked flesh, and Miranda switched off her bedroom lamp, and lay back down to sleep.

Sleep was slow to come.

Thoughts were milling around, all jumbled up and confusing; the only constant in the chaos seemed to be one Marcus Phillips, boss and disturber of her peace of mind.

Miranda sleepily focused on her boss's image, and all of that other jumble seemed to just fade away...

"I want you Miranda ... and I don't care if we do work together! I don't care that I am your boss ... or that you are my employee ... if I'm taking advantage of the situation ... of you..." his dark eyes smouldered as he looked down at her. He stepped towards her, and pulled her hard against him. "If I'm taking advantage of you Miranda ... I don't really care!"

His lips claimed hers in a heated kiss, and Miranda hung on to Marcus for fear of falling.

His lips felt so good against hers. His breath was warm and enticing, and as his tongue touched hers, she groaned weakly.

"Yes!" he growled against her mouth. "You want me just as much ... Don't you!"

"Oh yes, Marcus I do!" Miranda whimpered in her sleep.

She arched her back and moaned as she felt his hand cupping her breast, the sheets, were his clothes – brushing against her as he held her tightly to him.

He kissed her mouth and stroked her skin ... her naked skin, as she stood before him with – absolutely nothing to shield and protect her.

"Beautiful!" he declared huskily. "Amazing ... incredible!"

"Yes Marcus!" she whispered sleepily. "I do want you ... I love you!"

Her hands moved beneath the covers as she dreamt of Marcus touching her.

"I shall kiss and touch every part of you Miranda, I shall stroke and caress you until you are mad with desire ... until I know every inch of you; and later you shall do the same to me, I will know every inch of you, and you shall know me as well..."

"Oh god Marcus ... yes!"

Miranda awoke the next morning drenched in sweat and with an ache in her gut that cried out for fulfilment.

She dove under the shower, and came out shivering.

She dressed and munched her way through breakfast, aware of a vague sense of...

She gulped back her coffee and a short time later she left the house, and walked down the road to the bus stop.

Miranda stepped off the bus and tightened her coat around her.

The cold November wind cut right through her, and she shivered as she strode down the road.

She had barely taken a dozen steps when a car pulled into the kerb just in front of her.

"Good morning ... Mr. Phillips!" she greeted the owner with a bright smile.

"Good morning Miranda ... get in – will you."

"Oh but..."

"Please Miranda – don't argue."

Miranda hesitated for a moment longer as a dream drifted through her mind.

Marcus strode around the car with a little sigh and held the door open for her pointedly.

'Well at least she has the grace to look guilty!' he thought to himself as he saw the colour flood her cheeks, and her eyes avoided his awkwardly.

She glanced quickly up at him before scrambling into the car, only to have him close the door on her and then stride around the vehicle quickly – almost as though he were afraid that she might try and exit it again!