Delusional (2)

Emma backed away quickly from Mr. Long, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. The night's events were really taking a toll on her. She was confused, angry, scared and exhausted, and she now seemed to be hallucinating as well.

She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts, she must not get distracted. She must focus on getting as far away from Mr. Long as she could. His attitude scared her. He talked about her like she was some object to be possessed.

The idea that he thought he had the right to dictate what she could and couldn't do made her bristle with fury. She had sacrificed a comfortable life as a rich heiress for the sake of gaining her freedom, and she would rather be damned that give it up because this delusional man had decided that she was "his woman".

Looking at the possessive look in Mr. Long's eyes as he stood in front of her, she realised that she needed to get as far away from this dangerous man as she possibly could. But escaping from his clutches this time would be no easy task.

Emma realised she needed to try and play this differently. She must give him the impression that she is giving in.

Emma was decent at hiding her feeling behind a passive exterior, but she was terrible at pretending and acting. But she had to give it a try, because shouting and resisting this man only seemed to antagonise him further.

She forced herself to bury her flaming fury, and put on a passive mask, and bowing her head.

"I-I'm sorry," she mumbled, trying to sound as normal as she could. "I was angry and rattled because of what happened." That was not a lie, and therefore she thought she managed to make it sound tolerably believable.

Very carefully, she took a step closer to Mr. Long and the door. She didn't dare to look up at him to gauge his reaction, but she desperately hoped it was having an effect.

He stepped closer, and raised a hand to gently brush her swollen cheek.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, and she was surprised at the gentleness in his voice. But she didn't find it remotely comforting. Rather, it made her skin crawled in disgust. She didn't want him to be gentle with her, she just wanted him to leave her alone!

However, she felt heartened by the fact that her sudden display of vulnerability seemed to be affecting him, even though she also felt sickened with herself for putting on this show.

"Does it hurt?" he repeated, forcing her chin up so that he could see her face properly.

She shook her head, still avoiding his eyes.

"Don't worry," he said in a low tone, and his lips twisted in a sadistic smile. "The bastard will regret he ever laid a hand on you."

Emma shivered. What was the matter with this guy? Yes, she had been angry at the drunkard, and felt humiliated when he slapped her back. But why did Mr. Long think that she would feel better by having him beaten to a pulp?

She wanted desperately to get out of there.

"I'm tired," she whispered. "I want to go home." Then, although it almost made her gag in self-disgust, she looked up at him through her lashes. "Can-can I go home?"

He grabbed her chin again, brushing her lips thoughtfully with his thumb. To Emma, each caress felt like a violation. She had to fight with herself to keep her repulsion from showing on her face.

"Go home," he said. "Go and rest, sweetheart." His voice sounded sickly sweet. He released her.

Moving as quickly as she dared, she scurried out of his office.

Mr. Long watched her retreating form. The corners of his mouth curved into a self-satisfied smile. Finally, he thought, she was starting to give in to him. Soon, she would come to relish the fact that she was his.

His smile deepened into an evil grin. And now, it was time to deal with the idiot who dared to lay a hand on what belonged to him.