His Captive Bride by Suzanne Steele Page B

sense my presence.”
    Drake pushed down on the ever growing need in his pants. For some reason this woman brought out his very primal need to ‘stalk.’ Mandissa brought the primal hunter in Drake out and he couldn’t put his finger on why. All he knew was that Mandissa was becoming an obsession; an obsession that was growing stronger by the day.                                            
                                                                                     
     
     

Chapter Three
     
                          And three—two—one—the producer mouthed as he pointed towards Mandissa. She had taken a grass roots TV show that she had started; a show that was based on helping those less fortunate in the community and she had turned it into a top rated local show. She operated on gut instinct—as far as what topics that she covered and how she hosted the shows. To put it simply, the people couldn’t get enough of her. She had the ability of making the viewers feel that they were her personal friends and in a way, that was true.
    If you saw Mandissa out in public, you felt as if she wa s a personal friend. Really, what you saw—was what you got with Mandissa. That connection that she was able to form with her viewing audience was exactly the trait that had pulled Drake right into her web. The truth about just how dangerous that he was remained to be seen.
                                                                           
     
     
     
     
     
     

     
               Mandissa eyed the ‘suit’ from across the desk with contempt. She viewed him as a ‘suit’ and not in a good way. He had all of the attributes of being an arrogant, egotistical bastard. He was nothing more than a suited pompous jerk who reveled in the power that his career brought him. Having a TV station had been quite lucrative to him in more ways than one. In other words: people kissed his ass to be on his TV station. Mandissa didn’t!
               Part of him didn’t like the fact that he could not control Mandissa and he wanted to ‘force’ the issue of control. Any opportunity that Richard had to operate control over Mandissa he did, but it always left him unfulfilled, because Mandissa was one of the few who was aware that TV brought fame, and fame is a double edged sword. The same way that fame could make a career, it could also destroy one. Overnight, a beloved TV celebrity could go from famous, to infamous. Mandissa made up her mind a long time ago that what she did, and who she was, were two different things.
             “Well Mandissa, I believe that you could be using the people that you help to better promote the TV station. Let’s just say, that people eat up this bleeding heart shit that you do.” His words brought me out of my thoughts.
                    I eyed the pristine, polished subject who sat on the other side of the desk toying with the platinum pen; a pen that I knew very well was a seven, or eight hundred dollar pen.
    How many people could that feed? Pompous ass!
    “Richard, while I do understand that this is your TV station, I don’t work for you.”
    “Let’s ge t one thing straight young lady; you do work for me. As long as that pretty little ass of yours is parked in one of my chairs, on my set, you work for me!”
    Here we go, ‘The great and terrible Oz speech.’
    I just about knocked the chair over as I pushed it out of the way making my exit. I didn’t say anything for fear of throwing the chair at him.
    Richard, the pompous ass , twirled his $800.00 pen beneath his manicured fingers, as he watched Mandissa’s fine ass, makes its way out of his office.
    Whether Richard wanted to admit it or not, he was a control freak . The fact that Mandissa had