~Marcus in the lounge~<br/><br/>The walk from the dining room to the lounge was quiet and surreal as Mila’s fingers interlaced with his while they strolled like lovers with a purpose.  That thought brought a smile to Marcus’s lips because a purpose they did indeed have – get to the lounge and continue the night’s entertainment –  but also because he hoped that they might share intimacy at some point.  If it didn’t happen, that was ok too, Mila was the kind of woman that he would want to know no matter what, but as her body heat flowed over him, he fervently hoped that it did.<br/><br/>As they entered the warm embrace of the lounge, Mile separated from him with a delicate thank you which he returned with a smile and a serene nod.  “The pleasure was mine” he murmured as she turned and made her way to Mari, silence flowing in her wake.  He glanced around then, noting that Nicci and Bo were still absent, no doubt off on their scotch hunt.  The fire was going strong, creating a beautiful setting for this next stage of their bonding and he lost himself in it for a moment before being brought back to the room by Mari’s voice.  She was talking about the questions, holding up a pad and pen before setting them down, and then she was pulling together refreshments for everyone.<br/><br/>Before he could comment, Nicci and Bo returned to the room hand in hand, a sight that brought a little smile to Marcus’s face.  It appeared that he wasn’t the only one feeling something at the moment and that was a good thing.  He noted the bottle of scotch he had in his hand and grinned, pleased that the man had found the special gift that had been left for them.  It was a rather special bottle, gifted to him for his corporations philanthropic efforts, and had been saved for a special moment.  He couldn’t think of a better one than now but of course he couldn’t give any hint to his knowledge of this though it pained him greatly.  With a slight shake of his head, he passed on the alcohol, preferring a hot drink instead.<br/><br/>As Mari approached him, giving him a choice, he graced her with a slight bow.  “Tea, milady” he said impishly, having preferred the taste of tea since he was a lad.  The smell of coffee brewing was wonderful but the taste not so much, at least to him.  Taking the offered mug, he took a sip and nodded, the taste flowing over his tongue and down his throat, burning a path straight to his soul.  Glancing around, he saw Bo writing his questions and then handing the paper to Nicci, and for the first time, he wondered what he’d write down when it was his turn.<br/>