Legal Guardian: OTT Dark Stalker Romance (Dangerous Desires Book 1)

4. Anna

Mark’s grip in my hand feels more solid than anything has in the days since my father’s death. It’s warm, strong, and sure. An anchor to keep me steady.

It feels a little ridiculous to be lead into the chic boutique by a man instead of a group of girlfriends on a shopping trip, but the way Mark takes charge and steers me along is a weight off my shoulders.

I’ve made more decisions in the past week than I have in my entire life. If Mark wants to make a few decisions for me, I’m grateful for it.

As he smiles at the staff, he walks towards the back of the store where the short row of dressing rooms reside. “Okay,” he says, turning towards me and squeezing my hand. “Pick anything you’d like. Try them on, or don’t. We can be here as long or as little as you’d like. I’m not in any rush to be anywhere today, so don’t feel pressured.”

I hadn’t even thought about if Mark had other plans today. Or a job he needs to go to. A thread of worry knots in my chest and I bite my lip. What if he canceled other plans to attend the funeral or help me move in? Or if he had a date tonight and instead he’s out here with me—

“Anna,” he says firmly, his eyes hard as steel as they bore into mine. “I want to be here with you. There is no whereelse I’d rather be. I know our situation is… unconventional.” He rubs his thumb across my knuckles soothingly. “But I want you to be comfortable in our home, and I’m happy to buy you new clothes. I’ll buy you clothes any time you want. So please.” A touch of desperation cracks his voice and he lifts my hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Stop worrying and focus on the present. We’re here. I’m willing. Go find something you like and try it on.”

Mark’s words might sound gentle to anyone listening to our conversation, but his tone is as solid as a hammer and twice as strong. He’s giving me a choice, but it’s clear what he wants me to do. And for some inexplicable reason, all I want to do is please him.

“Will you tell me if you like something I try on?”

His entire body freezes for a split second before his lips curve into the most deliciously wicked smile I’ve ever seen. “Of course,” he replies, squeezing my hand one more time before letting me go. “But I have a feeling that I’ll find you beautiful no matter what you have on, Anna.”

The compliment throws me off guard, and I blush furiously as I turn on my heel and find a random rack to ransack. If something is in my size, regardless of what it looks like or the price tag dangling from its side, I grab it. Within minutes, my arms are full of different colored dresses and shirts and sweaters and fabrics I’ve never seen before. Before she died, my mom taught me to shop at thrift stores and discounted shops - only on the rare occasion I received a hefty tip have I treated myself to something new. And it’s not like my dad ever did much for me; he shut down after Mom died.

I’ve been on my own for years. But now, after everything Mark’s done for me over the past twelve hours, I don’t feel so alone anymore.

With a pile of clothes crinkling in my arms and a frown from the sales associate who noticed my half hazard treatment of them, I make my way back towards Mark. A dressing room stands open and waiting for me, but it’s the special glimmer in Mark’s eye that catches my attention. Has he been watching me this entire time?

“I’m glad you found so many things you liked.”

I murmur a yeah and laugh awkwardly. “They have nice things.”

“And so will you.” He gestures towards the open fitting room and sits in the waiting chair outside. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

As I drop the clothes onto the ottoman in the corner of the room, I tell Mark that he doesn’t have to wait around if he wants to grab a coffee or something. “I can make this quick.”

“Take your time,” he says immediately, that same forceful-but-kind tone marking his words. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Anna. Besides, I’m excited to see you try stuff on.”

I close the door on his strange smile and take deep breaths. There’s no need to overthink this. He’s just buying me clothes because he feels bad for the girl he never got to know. The one who doesn’t have any parents or siblings or friends. The one who works too much to have any kind of social life.

It has nothing to do with the fact that he held me, shirtless, all night. Or that he carried me inside the house and undressed me before bed.

Or allowed me to live with him at all.

What kind of a man lets an eighteen year old move in like it’s the most natural thing in the world?

Sighing, I try to focus on the present like Mark said. But it’s hard to do when there are so many unknowns.

Inevitably, as I try on a soft, cream-colored shirt and a black skirt, my thoughts drift from how generous Mark is being to my work at the diner. Could I take less hours now? My feet already ache thinking about the number of tables I served last week. Mark and I haven’t talked logistics about me moving in; is he charging me rent? Utilities? The lawyers are still settling all of my dad’s debts, but I’m not hopeful that I’m getting anything from the estate. He was too drunk and too irresponsible to plan any kind of future for his daughter.

“Anna? You okay in there?”

Mark’s voice brings me back down to earth. “Yeah,” I breathe, pulling the shirt off as quickly as I had put it on. “Just trying to find something I like.”

In truth, I don’t much care what I wear. It’s not like I can wear things like this at the diner. My boss Penny’s fond of fashion, sure, but I’ll just spill coffee all over a nice blouse like this.

The next item at the top of the pile is a deep blue dress that reminds me of sapphires - the same rich hue as a necklace my mother used to wear when she and dad went out on dates. I haven’t seen that necklace since she passed away. All of her things - clothes, jewelry, photographs - have been locked away in my dad’s bedroom for years.

I hold the fabric in my hands and stare at the color, wishing I had a piece of my mother here with me. Her necklace would go perfectly with this dress.

Sighing, I unzip the back and step into it, shimmying it up my hips until I can pull my arms through the sleeves. It’s not a flowy summer dress, but it leaves my shoulders bare in a show of feminine elegance. Regal. Like I’m going on a date with a billionaire or about to walk into the most lavish restaurant in the city.

I picture Mark by my side, leading me into a throng of people much like how he led me into this store. I wouldn’t mind being the woman on his arm. In fact, I’d like to be the one everyone envies. If Mark were mine—

Shaking the thought from my head, I laugh at myself. I’ve always had a crush on the man, even when I was thirteen and he joined my family for dinner once a week. Apparently old crushes die hard.

But I wonder…

“Mark?” Unlocking the dressing room door and peering through the crack, I spot him completely relaxed, stretched out in the armchair like a king. Legs spread wide, shoulders back, eyes sparkling, like he’s waiting for me. I have the sudden urge to sit in his lap and feel his hands in my hair, his whispers in my ear—

“Yes?” Mark raises an eyebrow. “Are you ready to show me something?” He licks his lips, and my cheeks flush pink.

“Um, actually… can you zip me up? I can’t tell if this really fits unless—”

He’s on his feet in a flash and moving towards me so fast that I stumble back into the dressing room. Without a single hesitation, he’s crowding into the dressing room and shutting the door behind him.

“Turn around.”

Still flushed, now damp between my thighs by being so close to him after picturing myself sitting in his lap, I obey. The mirror stares back at me, and I’m able to watch Mark’s face as he studies my back. With one hand on my hip holding me steady, he exhales slowly and grasps the zipper in his other hand.

His movements are slow, and he takes his time zipping up the dress. “You have a birthmark,” he murmurs, lowering his face to inspect the crescent-shaped mark on my shoulder. “Right here.” He presses his lips against my skin, right on top of my birthmark, and his grip on my hip tightens for the briefest second before his eyes catch mine in the mirror. “You’re beautiful, Anna. So fucking beautiful.”

My legs start to tremble from the heat pooling between my thighs and the heavy pounding of my heart in my chest. “You like the dress?” I ask weakly, running my hands down the smooth fabric at my front. “I like the color.”

“I love the color,” Mark admits, his eyes traveling down my reflection as he surveys my body. “It brings out the blue in your eyes. And the fit—” He groans, a stifled sound that is magnified by the small room we’re in. “Anna, this dress was made for you. You make me—” He cuts himself off and clenches his jaw tightly. “Do you need me to unzip you?”

I study his face, the way his cheek twitches like he’s restraining himself, the way his head dips near the curve of my neck and he takes a deep, body-shuddering breath in.

“Do you want to unzip me?” I’m not sure why I ask, but Mark’s eyes snap open and pierce into mine.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, his voice a deep rumble that makes my toes curl and my thighs clench.

Yes.Oh, yes.

“I, uhh,” I stammer, my face flushing crimson. Why is it so hard for me to say yes? Is it really what I want?

Biting my lip, I nod.

“I’ve got to hear you say it, sweetheart,” he rumbles, his lips brushing against my neck with each word. Not kissing, but ready. “You have to tell me what you want or I’ll give you what I want. And I can’t—” He growls, a terrifyingly sexy sound that makes me imagine him ripping the dress off my body. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Hurt me?

He’s shaking. I can feel him trembling and see it in our reflection. Is he scared that he’ll hurt me? Or is he holding himself back?

What if he wants to hurt me and that’s what scares him?

My brain must be clouded, because the words that fly from my lips are “I want you to—”

Someone from outside the dressing room clears their throat. “Excuse me. We do not allow couples in the fitting rooms together.” It’s the saleswoman who spotted us earlier. Prim and proper with her hair in a bun - likely all business and little pleasure.

Mark snarls, making me gasp, and the woman sighs through the door. “Would the other party please remove themself from the room? You’re welcome to wait outside while she tries on clothes. She can model them for you outside the room.”

He avoids looking at me as he snatches the pile of clothes behind me and shoves his entire body, unpurchased clothes and all, through the door. “We want all of these. And the dress she has on. Ring them up. Now.”

The woman’s eyes narrow as she gestures for Mark to head towards the counter. “Of course. Are you a preferred member with us? We have a sale for—”

The dressing room door closes and I lock it fast, shutting out the image of Mark. Breathing quickly, trying not to frazzle and panic, I manage to claw at the zipper long enough to pull it down and wiggle out of the tight, sapphire thing. I almost don’t want it. The dress feels sinful, like it’s meant to turn me into… something I’m not. A woman. Someone confident and powerful and sexy.

And I’m not… any of those things.

But for just a moment, here in the room with Mark’s arms on my hips and an inferno in his eyes, I caught a glimpse of what I could be.

I’m not sure what scares me more: staying the same old Anna, quiet and reserved and disciplined, or becoming something a little wild, a little free, a little unknown.