Chapter five

After another day of learning who the various people at the Arena were, and seeing Mark every now and again in passing, Amy found herself sitting opposite Vince and Linda, fiddling nervously with her soft drink and sending glances over her shoulder towards the restaurant doors every five seconds.

"Don't worry sweetie, he'll be here," Linda said, stilling her restless fingers by placing her hand over Amy's.

"Who...who'll be here?" Amy asked, trying to sound confused and failing miserably.

Linda smiled widely and nodded over the younger girls' shoulder. "Him," she said quietly, settling back in her chair and watching Mark's eyes light up as he spotted them.

"Vince, Linda," he nodded politely, before pulling out the chair next to Amy and sitting down. "Amy. How are you feeling?"

Amy raised her eyes to his and forgot to speak. He was dressed in a suit, very smart, the jacket straining over his huge shoulders as he leaned toward her. His hair was neatly combed back and he had no bandanna covering his forehead this time. His green eyes stood out all the more for not being shadowed and she found herself trapped by the intensity of his gaze.

Mark was also having trouble with his speech. Whereas before she had been wearing fairly snug fitting jeans, but completely obscured her body with a huge sweater, now she was wearing a dress. It wasn't a provocative dress by any standards, it being high necked and long sleeved and full skirted, not showing any flesh. But where she had obviously picked it because of it's slight looseness, she had underestimated how much the material would cling to the nicely rounded parts of her. He found it difficult not to drop his eyes and stare at the firm thrust of her breasts under the bodice of the dress, but he didn't want to spook her, so he continued looking into her eyes. When he noticed how blankly she was staring at him, his lips curved into a smile.

"Something wrong, darlin'?"

"You look...very...smart," she faltered, her face flushing because she had been caught staring.

He raised an eyebrow and his smile broadened. "Why, thank you, ma'am. You sound surprised. I couldn't very well waltz into this nice place wearing a pair of jeans, now could I?"

Amy's eyes darted around at the other diners. "I guess not."

"And you look very pretty tonight," he said quietly, his voice lowering so that Vince and Linda didn't overhear them, even though the older couple were engrossed with talking to each other.

Amy glanced down at her dress and sighed. It was very nice of him to try and compliment her, but she knew she faded into the background wherever she went, so she didn't acknowledge his words.

Mark frowned and tilted her chin up with one finger. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she said, feeling his fingertip burning just under her chin and becoming slightly breathless at his proximity, her world narrowing to include just the two of them.

"Really? Well, then, let's just try that again shall we? You look very pretty tonight," he said, his eyes crinkling at the stain of red on her cheeks.

"I don't...you don't have to..."

"Don't you know how pretty you are, sweetheart?" he asked her softly, letting his eyes wander over her soft, clear complexion with its' few tantalising freckles and her dark lashed eyes. She still wore no make up, but then, she didn't need it. Her hair was pinned up at the sides and the rest of it flowed in shiny waves down her back.

"I'm not pretty," she mumbled.

"Hell, yes you are, and if we didn't have company I'd prove to you exactly how pretty I think you are!" He actually went to bend his head toward her when he became aware of where they were and that Vince was staring at him with narrowed eyes. He cleared his throat and took his hand away from her chin, picking up a menu and scanning it without saying another word.

Vince grinned at his wife, who looked no less amused than he did. His goddaughter was sitting looking stunned and Mark looked as though someone had just hit him over the head with a sledgehammer. Things could get really interesting, he thought, the wheels turning in his head as he thought of several different ways to throw the two of them together as often as possible, under some sort of covert supervision of course.

They all ordered their meals and the evening progressed very pleasantly, Amy eventually coming out of her shell and chatting animatedly with them about the wrestling she had seen that afternoon. She even went so far as to jab Mark in the ribs for daring to lead her on about who he was, and he was faintly shocked at her actions, before going into his play-acting mode and groaning. He reached a hand around and held it over his ribs where she had elbowed him, doubling up over the table with an expression of agony.

Amy giggled at his display and he sat up suddenly and arched his eyebrows at her. "You find something funny in attacking me?"

"Yes," she nodded, still smiling. "Like you even felt it you big fake!"

He put an expression of hurt on his face. "You think I'm a fake? How could you think that? You saw me wrestle last night and today, you could see how real it was, how hard I worked to make it a good show, how..."

"Is everything alright here?" the waiter asked as he hovered next to the table.

Mark looked up at him and then pointed to Amy. "She thinks I'm a fake. Would you say I was a fake, boy?"

The waiter remained impassive looking and shook his head, knowing full well who Mark really was. "No, Sir, I would never say you were a fake."

Mark turned triumphant green eyes to Amy. "See? He doesn't think I'm a fake!"

"Yes, but he's probably just worried that you're going to snap him in two if he insults you, so it doesn't count!"

"Oh, but you don't mind insulting me?"

Amy shook her head. "Not at all."

"Well, that's just great. I get all dolled up so I can come out for a nice meal without embarrassing you, and there you go insulting me! I could get real hurt by that, you know! I think you should apologise," he said, folding his huge arms over his equally massive chest and staring at her expectantly, looking faintly intimidating.

Amy was saved from answering by the waiter, who was still standing there, waiting for them to order dessert. Once he had what he wanted, he departed and Amy glanced sideways at Mark to see what he was doing. He was still sitting there with his arms folded, staring at her.

"What?" she asked him, feigning innocence.

"I'm still waiting," he said smoothly, smirking at her.

"For what?"

He arched one eyebrow. "Now there's a leading question," he murmured, grinning sexily at her. "For my apology of course!"

She smiled at his continued playfulness and shook her head, feeling her heart thudding in her chest at his proximity. "I have nothing to apologise for!"

"Yeah you do. Apologise."

"Uh-uh."

"Apologise," he said, leaning closer to her, pleased to note that she didn't back off, even though her expression told him that she had to fight not to.

Amy stiffened her spine and gave him what she hoped was a haughty look, arching her eyebrows and staring at him with disdain. "And if I don't?"

"Hmm, let me think, what would be a suitable punishment? I know," he said as the waiter returned with their desserts, "If you don't apologise, then I claim a bite of your dessert."

Amy narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "A bite of my dessert? That doesn't sound too bad. Besides, I'm not apologising, you fake." She grinned as she said this and reached for her dessert, a large slice of rich chocolate gateau, covered in piped cream and whipped up into a delightful confection. Marks hand stopped her and she glared at him. "Never get between a woman and her dessert!" she told him. He chuckled at this, but steadfastly refused to let her plunge into the food. "Ah, no, sweetheart. You didn't apologise, therefore I get my bite of your dessert before you get to taste any, it's only fair!"

"Okay, but you use your own fork, I don't know what I might catch from you!" she shot back, surprising herself with her capacity to tease this enormous man, without feeling any fear. It made a welcome change and she felt completely relaxed.

He gave her a mock glare and then pulled her plate in front of him, turning it this way and that as if trying to decide the best place to attack it. Finally he picked up his own fork and plunged it halfway through the cake, pulling it neatly apart and popping it into his mouth before she could utter the protest that was forming on her lips. He watched her, his eyes crinkling up with amusement, as she stared at him with her mouth hanging open.

"You ate half my cake!" she said, aghast at the huge amount he had just put into his mouth with apparent ease. "That's not fair!"

He swallowed the rich dessert and wiped his mouth with a napkin before he spoke. "You should have apologised."

"Oh, you...! I'm glad I didn't! You are a fake, and a greedy one, at that!" she said in mock indignation, reaching for her plate.

"Oh, dear. You seem to have insulted me again!" he said, pulling her plate out of her reach and finishing the dessert with one more mouthful.

Vince and Linda were laughing themselves silly at this display, each enjoying their own dessert. Amy looked at them and then glared at Mark. "Now what do I get to eat?"

"I could suggest a couple of things," he said slowly, watching as she blushed when she caught his meaning. "However, I guess I could let you have one little bitty spoonful of this delicious chocolate mousse."

He handed her the tall glass full of chocolate mousse and she took it from him slowly, expecting him to snatch it back at any second. When he didn't she picked her spoon up and dipped it into the fluffy dessert, her tongue coming out to lick her bottom lip as she concentrated on loading her spoon up. She lifted it up in triumph when she managed to scoop an enormous amount onto it, grinning at Mark.

He smiled smugly, sitting back with his arms folded. "Well done. Now try and fit it into your mouth."

She frowned at the amount on the spoon, knowing she was beaten really, but not wanting to admit it and end all this fun.

"Can't do it, can you?" he drawled, still looking smug and she narrowed her eyes at him, determined that she would at least try.

He watched with amusement as she opened her mouth and gamely tried to get the enormous pile of mousse inside without spilling any. She almost managed it, too, but whereas he would have been able to do it with ease, she couldn't hope to match him. She closed her mouth and felt some of the chocolate ooze out of the corners, grabbing her napkin before it could spill. Strangely she didn't feel in the least embarrassed at making a mess.

"Ha, I knew it! You're a lightweight when it comes to eating, darlin'," Mark said, watching her trying to eat the mass in her mouth and blotting away the remnants from her lips. He reached out and took the napkin from her, holding her chin whilst he wiped away the bits she couldn't see. What he really wanted to do was lick them away, he decided, but he knew exactly what that could lead to. His body had lurched painfully when her tongue had darted out to lick her lip before, and now it hardened even more when she did it again. He shifted in his chair slightly, trying to ease the uncomfortable press of his aroused flesh and then watched that small, pink tongue shoot out and lick at the corner of her mouth again.

Amy looked at his expression and frowned. "Are you okay?" she asked him, thinking that he looked incredibly tense.

He took his hand away from her chin and gave a smile. "I'm just fine, honey."

Vince motioned for the waiter and asked for their bill. After he had paid it he stood up and took Linda's arm, smiling down at the other two. "Well, we have to be going, we have some business to finish up. Amy, you can either come back with us now or stay here a while longer. I'm sure Mark will see you back safely."

"I'll bring her back safe and sound," Mark said before she could reply. He didn't want the evening to end just yet. "Besides, there's a band tuning up, so we could stay and have a dance, if you'd like?"

Amy stared into his sexy green eyes and tried to decide what the best thing was to do. But the decision was really made already. She wanted to stay here with him, no matter how nervous that made her feel. "I'd like that."

"Great," Vince said, patting her on the shoulder and then swiping Mark around the head. "You take care of her, okay?" he said to him, giving him a serious look, laced with lots of hidden meaning.

Mark nodded and smiled. "I'll have her back before she turns into a pumpkin, don't panic!"

Vince grinned at his words and sauntered out of the restaurant, Linda laughing and holding his arm. Amy smiled at Mark. "I thought it was the carriage that turned into the pumpkin?"

"Yeah, well, the way you ate that dessert, you never can tell!" he teased.

Amy aimed a soft blow at his shoulder. "Are you saying I'm fat?"

He caught her small fist easily and closed his fingers over it, completely obscuring it from view. His eyes roamed over her petite form and lingered for a second on the swell of her breasts and hips. "No, honey, I could never accuse you of being fat. You have a beautiful figure." He raised his eyes to hers in time to see her eyes widen and her cheeks flush at his intimate tone. When the first strains of music floated to his ears he pulled her up out of her chair and led her towards the small dance floor that graced one end of the restaurant. Only the frantic tugging of her hand made him falter, and he turned to stare down at her, amused to find that even in high heels, she didn't reach his shoulder. "What's wrong? Don't you want to dance with me?"

"I...er..." she swallowed, embarrassed all over again. "I can't dance!" her voice was no more than a whisper.

"That's not a problem, sweetheart. The music's slow, and all you have to do is sway with me. Come on, don't be a chicken," he urged, steadily taking backward steps until they were right near the band. He took her hands and raised them up so they rested on his broad shoulders, amusement brightening his eyes once again when he realised she wasn't tall enough to close them around the back of his neck. His own hands settled on her waist and he slowly moved her from side to side until she picked up the rhythm and began to move on her own, their bodies close enough that her breasts brushed against him with every movement. After a few seconds he let his arms slide around her back and stooped a little, just enough that her hands could wrap more firmly around his neck and she was pulled into an arch against him.