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In the Mood for Romance The Living Collection of Introductions and Excerpts from Elizabeth Lennox www.ElizabethLennox.com www.facebook.com/Author.Elizabeth.Lennox www.twitter.com/ElizabethLenno1 Copyright 2013 Last updated January 17, 2014 All rights reserved The following short stories and excerpts of Elizabeth Lennox books are works of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, currently known or future inventions except as ElizabethLennox.com. may be expressly permitted in writing from Preface Hello, and thanks for downloading this book! Whether you are a new reader of my stories or have read one or many, I hope you will enjoy this sampling of my work. As of this collection’s first release, I have written six short stories as introductions and forty-six full length romances (as well as many more in various stages of completion!). The books are available in over fifty countries and on many platforms. I feel very fortunate and thankful be able to share them with you. As my number of books grew, my husband suggested to me that I make all of the introductions and excerpts available in one place, so that current and future readers could see the different stories available. In addition, most of my introductions were not available from the major retail platforms - they were only sent to you if you had registered on my website, www.ElizabethLennox.com. While I still send the introductions to registered readers first, I wanted to make them available here also, for your enjoyment. Also, please note that although there’s an excerpt of Falling For The Boss in this collection, the full book is only available (and free!) to registered users on my website. Again, thanks for downloading this collection and I hope you enjoy it! As I write new intros and publish new books, I’ll keep this up to date. Connect with me on Facebook or Twitter - I love to hear from my readers! www.Facebook.com/Author.Elizabeth.Lennox www.Twitter.com/ElizabethLenno1 Elizabeth Lennox May, 2013 List of Elizabeth Lennox Books The Texas Tycoon’s Temptation The Royal Cordova Trilogy Escaping a Royal Wedding The Man’s Outrageous Demands Mistress To The Prince The Attracelli Family Series Never Dare A Tycoon Falling For The Boss Risky Negotiations Proposal To Love Love's Not Terrifying Romantic Acquisition The Billionaire's Terms: Prison Or Passion The Sheik's Love Child The Sheik's Unfinished Business The Greek Tycoon's Lover The Sheik's Sensuous Trap The Greek's Baby Bargain The Italian's Bedroom Deal The Billionaire's Gamble The Tycoon's Seduction Plan The Sheik's Rebellious Mistress The Sheik's Missing Bride Blackmailed By The Billionaire The Billionaire's Runaway Bride The Billionaire's Elusive Lover The Intimate, Intricate Rescue The Sisterhood Trilogy The Sheik's Virgin Lover The Billionaire's Impulsive Lover The Russian's Tender Lover The Billionaire's Gentle Rescue The Tycoon's Toddler Surprise The Tycoon's Tender Triumph The Sheik's Mysterious Mistress The Duke's Willful Wife The Sheik's Secret Twins The Tycoon's Marriage Exchange The Russian's Furious Fiancee The Tycoon's Misunderstood Bride Love By Accident Series The Sheik's Pregnant Lover The Sheik's Furious Bride The Duke's Runaway Princess The Russian's Pregnant Mistress The Lovers Exchange Series The Earl's Outrageous Lover The Tycoon's Resistant Lover The Berutelli Escape Resisting The Tycoon's Seduction The Billionaire’s Secretive Enchantress The Billionaire’s Pregnant Lover The Sheik’s Rediscovered Lover The Tycoon’s Defiant Southern Belle The Sheik’s Dangerous Lover (free novella) The Thorpe Brothers His Captive Lover His Unexpected Lover His Secretive Lover His Challenging Lover The Sheik’s Defiant Fiancée (Free Novella) The Prince’s Resistant Lover (Free Novella) The Tycoon’s Make-Believe Fiancée (Free Novella – coming January 31, 2014) The Billionaire’s Masquerade (Coming February, 2014) The Texas Tycoon’s Temptation She heard their vile comments. Elissa didn’t want to hear them. She tried to block them out as she poured herself a cup of coffee as quickly as possible, almost burning herself as the hot, black liquid sloshed over the edge of her cup in her haste. She wanted to leave the office kitchen quickly in order to avoid their foul words but despite her best efforts, she couldn’t ignore them. In fact, she suspected that they were talking louder just to get a reaction from her. The two men stood in front of the elaborate, stainless steel espresso maker, leaning casually against the counter as they discussed their previous night’s sexual conquests. The room was large with steel cabinets and accenting black granite counters, smelling like gourmet coffee. The kitchen was reserved for the top brokers in Tillman & Hirshman, a stock brokerage firm in the heart of the financial district of New York City. One of them snickered as she poured cream into her coffee, obviously thrilled with his escapades. “Yeah, she was incredibly hot. Did you see her last night?” Mark Callburn asked Jeff Walters, the man standing next to him in the kitchen. Jeff nodded his head enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah. She was definitely built,” he said. Out of the corner of her eye, Elissa saw him make movements around his chest area. She understood that the woman in discussion was well-endowed but she turned her head away, not wanting to encourage the men. Five minutes ago, Elissa had barely been able to register the world around her due to extreme fatigue but with their awful remarks, her blue eyes lit up with anger. She needed sugar for her coffee, but she considered dumping the black liquid into the sink or doing without sweetener, desperate to get away from the room so she didn’t have to hear more of the disgusting conversation. Elissa knew Mark’s wife was a very petite woman in all aspects so it was obvious that he was not discussing his life mate. It was only seven o’clock in the morning and Elissa had worked late the previous night in order to close a big deal. It had been after two o’clock in the morning before she’d fallen into bed and after six nights with only four hours of sleep or less, the caffeine was a necessity and not just a desire. Reaching behind the two men, she quickly poured some sugar into her cup and rushed out of the room, ignoring the spilled sugar crystals as well as their lewd comments about the women they had been with the previous night while their wives were home with their young children. Back in her office, Elissa turned on her computer and pushed the two men’s unfaithfulness out of her mind. She had several meetings today and she still needed to prepare for them. She took off her black, summer wool jacket revealing a white silk blouse underneath that contrasted perfectly with her black slacks. It was early spring in New York but for some reason the heat had come sooner than normal and the humidity was never far behind. She had walked to work this morning, hoping the morning air would wake her up a bit. But it had only created a mass of brown curls around her head that fell softly to her shoulders. Twisting the pearl necklace around her fingers, Elissa pulled the information on her computer she needed for the meeting and started editing the report she had to present in an hour to her client. She slowly sipped the overly sweet coffee, letting the caffeine ease into her tired body and wake up the remaining cells. She was almost finished when a tall, perfectly manicured and suave looking man walked into her office, not bothering to knock. He sauntered towards her desk, then elegantly sat down in one of the visitor’s chairs in front of her desk. Elissa ignored the spurt of irritation the man’s presence generated and continued to work on finalizing her presentation. “Hello, Darrel. What can I do for you today?” she asked emotionlessly, not bothering to look up from her computer screen. Darrel Isenberg III picked up a brass paperweight from her desk and tossed it in his hands with a practiced manner, sneering slightly when all of Elissa’s attention was not immediately focused upon him as he was used to. He regrouped quickly, hiding his irritation in the hopes of making her laugh with his next comment. “Ah, Elissa, if you would only follow through on my answer, I would be a happy man,” he said, his smile showing off his perfectly capped, falsely white teeth. Only by sheer force of will was she able to resist rolling her eyes at him. “Keep it to the professional and I’ll see what I can do,” she said, typing in some additional numbers. “You could go out with me again,” he said, his voice confident, as if women rarely, if ever, turned him down for a date. Elissa typed in a few more numbers before replying. “No thank you. Burned twice, not interested,” she answered, referring to the recently-ended relationship they’d had. Elissa knew her heart had never been into the relationship because she’d only felt a mild disappointment at the breakup earlier in the week. What genuinely bothered her was the fact that Darrel had called her frigid because of her resistance to making their relationship physical. He had used their lack of physical intimacy as justification for seeing other women behind her back. If she had bothered to look up, she would have seen his stunned expression. “But I’ve told you, the other women weren’t important. You mean a lot to me,” he said, his voice becoming borderline whining. She couldn’t help herself this time. Elissa’s blue eyes rolled, the statement was just too ridiculous. He had mentioned that phrase several times over the past week, trying to convince her to re-establish their relationship. “Darrel, I really need to finish this up. If you’ll excuse me,” she didn’t finish the sentence as she walked out of her office to retrieve a file from the file room, assuming he would get the hint that the conversation was now over. She assumed incorrectly. He followed her to the small room filled with cabinets from wall to wall. Elissa’s first sense of alarm came when she heard the file room door click shut. “What are you doing?” she demanded angrily, holding the retrieved, bulky file in front of her defensively. Darrel’s smile was as charming as a snake and just as dangerous. “Just relax. I want to talk to you,” he said, moving towards her. Elissa looked around for an escape route but the files were packed high with only a small aisle between each row. Darrel was blocking her only exit, feeling powerful now that he had her full attention. She refused to be nervous around such a pathetic creature. “Darrel, get out of my way,” she said forcefully, moving towards the doorway, pushing his chest with the file folder. Darrel worked out religiously every day in an effort to maintain his muscular arms and chest so he wasn’t a movable object if he didn’t want to be moved, especially by a five-foot, six-inch, exhausted woman with panic forming in her mind. Those muscular arms now wrapped around her, holding her still. “Elissa, we never really became intimate. Let me show you how good it can be between the two of us. Then if you want me to leave, I won’t say another word.” She tried to wiggle out of his arms but he was too strong and the filing cabinets didn’t give her much room to maneuver. “Darrel, stop it! Don’t touch me,” She said firmly, hoping he couldn’t hear the rising panic in her voice. He didn’t heed her request and his mouth descended towards hers. His mouth was hard as he tried to coax a response from her. She fought him initially, but his strength was no match for hers so eventually she just stood still and waited. Finally he realized she was not participating in the kiss and pulled back, confused. “What’s wrong Elissa? You know you want me. We’d be so good together.” He had pulled back slightly to see her face but that was all the space she needed. She twisted in his arms and was able to pull free and rush out of the room. “Stay away from me, Darrel,” she called back, furious with him for trapping her in the file room but also equally furious with herself for not seeing what a slimy, irritating man he was months ago. Elissa rushed out of the file room and back to the relative safety of her office. She felt dirty now. She wanted to rush home and shower again, needing to get the feel of his hands off her arms and back. Thankfully, as soon as she returned to her office, there were messages and emails waiting for her so she was able to put Darrel’s tactics to the back of her mind. The day turned out to be just as hectic as all the others. She was in and out of meetings, working on the final details of a major sale throughout the day. She skipped lunch and ate a sandwich at her desk in the middle of the afternoon. By the time she had a chance to think again, it was dark outside her office window. But the deal was done, she thought with a vague sense of disappointment. Elissa said goodbye to her client and hung up the phone, taking a deep breath. Then another. She stared at the computer screen, trying to think about….anything. Even going home and getting some rest, putting the day behind her….just…anything. After the third deep breath, Elissa gave in and burst into the tears that had been held at bay all day long. The sobs wracked her too-thin frame, leaving her feeling worse than she did before she started crying. After ten minutes, Elissa pulled herself together and repaired her makeup. Pulling a mirror out of her desk, she looked at her reflection as she tried to get her mind back together. Her brown, curly hair fell softly to her shoulders, framing her face and curling inward at the ends. She pushed the hair behind her ears distractedly, wishing she could have normal, straight hair that looked smooth and sophisticated instead of this mass of brown hair that had a mind of its own. Her eyes were still the blue she remembered, but she didn’t know where the dark circles underneath had come from. She needed to get a little sun, she thought as she dabbed powder across her nose to hide the redness, the only color left in her face besides her blue eyes. At that moment, Jim Tillman the managing director of Tillman and Hirshman Investments walked in preceded by a whiff of expensive cologne. Just as Darrel had done earlier in the day, Jim didn’t bother to knock. “Good job today. What kind of numbers did you close with?” he asked, walking around her office, picking up pictures and looking at them, then setting them back down on her shelf. Elissa blinked and refocused on the computer screen, wishing she didn’t feel so mentally and physically tired. She wanted to shout at the man to get out of her office and leave her alone, but instead, she punched in a few numbers on her computer, calculating the gross profits for the day. “The Hartman account pulled in over a million dollars with my last phone call,” she said. Where was the exhilaration she used to feel after a day like today? Where was the sense of accomplishment? She’d made a lot of money for several clients today but all she felt was a vague sense of restlessness and overwhelming fatigue. Jim didn’t sense her feelings, preferring to concentrate on the monetary side of life. “That was only a few minutes ago, wasn’t it? You did some other good deals earlier today,” he said and nodded with approval. “It was a good day,” Elissa confirmed, but she wasn’t interested in the numbers. The firm realized a ten percent return on all profits for each account and she earned a percentage of that. But she didn’t care anymore. Elissa waited with a passive face for Jim to get to the point of his visit. She didn’t have to wait long. He stopped fiddling with the knick-knacks placed around her office and turned to look at her, a practiced smile on his tanned face. “I was wondering if you would consider a merger,” he said, his bland, gray eyes alighting at the idea. Elissa didn’t like the sound of that, grimacing inwardly. She suspected that this was going to become an awkward conversation. Jim was a handsome man who had just divorced his third wife. He was tall with dark hair elegantly styled to show off his silver temples and wore perfectly tailored suits. Since he was managing director of the firm, she knew he earned a very good salary. But so did she. And Elissa wasn’t impressed with material wealth anymore. “Can you give me more details?” she asked cautiously just in case she was misreading the signs and this was an actual business proposition and not a personal one. Jim turned around and came over to her desk. He sat down on the side, swinging one leg as he faced her. Elissa imagined that he practiced the pose in the mirror at home. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Elissa.” Elissa was instantly on alert. This was not a good conversation. Jim had a reputation as a womanizer and he didn’t take rejection very well. “Thank you, Jim,” she said cautiously but making sure her face was completely blank. She didn’t want to encourage him in any way but she also didn’t want to show him her revulsion over his apparent lack of morals. “You could return the compliment,” he half-joked. Elissa flushed, not sure how to get out of this conversation. “Jim, you know you’re a very handsome man. But I’m in a relationship.” “I heard that was over,” he said, raising one brow as a challenge to dispute his information. Elissa was instantly furious. How could everyone know about her breakup with Darrel only days after it had happened? She supposed Darrel had complained to too many people. He wasn’t a very private person, unlike herself. “That’s correct. But I’m not ready to jump into the next relationship just yet.” Jim smiled his best smile. “Well, how about just a one night stand, sort of a celebration on having such a good day? I think we could be very good together.” He leaned towards her, his eyes taking on an intense look. Elissa shook her head, carefully saying, “Jim, I’m flattered, but I don’t think tonight is a very good idea.” She stood up and walked across her office, wanting to put some distance between the two of them, not wanting to repeat the incident earlier in the day with Darrel. He followed her but, thankfully, didn’t trap her into a corner. “Why not? You’re here, I’m here. We don’t have anyone waiting for us. It has been a long day,” he said, and his hand slid down her arm in a caress that sent shivers of revulsion down Elissa’s spine. “Why don’t we take care of each other?” Elissa didn’t know how to get out of the situation and thankfully, her phone rang just at that moment. “Excuse me,” she said and held up a finger indicating that he should wait just a moment. “Elissa Stone,” She said to the receiver. “Lissy?” a familiar voice at the other end of the line said. As soon as Elissa heard the nickname, a new kind of panic entered her system. “Ronny?” Elissa said and walked back around her desk, moving to avoid Jim who had moved to stand directly behind her. “Are you okay? How are the babies? What’s wrong?” The joyous laughter on the other end of the phone line instantly filled Elissa with relief. “Lissy, nothing’s wrong except a huge amount of heartburn that’s keeping me awake. I was afraid I would catch you still at the office. Do you have any idea what time it is?” her friend asked. Veronica Williams had been Elissa’s roommate in college and they had remained best friends ever since. Veronica was expecting twins after years of trying to conceive. Elissa glanced at her computer screen and sighed. “Yes. So what are you doing up at midnight? Shouldn’t you be sleeping and taking care of those babies? What aren’t you telling me?” Elissa demanded. Jim shook his head and raised his hand to his ear with his thumb sticking up, a sign for her to call him when she was done with her phone call. Elissa breathed a sigh of relief when he walked out of her office and headed back to his own office at the other end of the building. Veronica continued, unaware of the tension she’d banished with her phone call. “I promise Lissy, nothing is wrong. I just wanted to talk to you. You haven’t been yourself lately and I wanted to see what is going on.” Elissa fell back into her chair and put her forehead into the palm of her hand. “Oh, Ronny. Things are just too complicated,” She said, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill out over her tightly clenched eyes. “Talk to me, Lissy,” Veronica pleaded through the phone, the worry coming through the night. “What’s going on?” “It’s a long story,” Elissa said and sniffed back her tears. “Then tell me why you are still working at three o’clock in the morning. How many nights have you worked until this time during the week?” “I was working with a client,” she explained, not bothering to count how many times that excuse was applicable over the past week or month. Veronica sighed heavily. “Lissy, you need a break. I’m not going to put any more demands on you. It sounds like you have enough already. But I just got everything installed in the cabin Jake is lending me while you’re here for the babies’ delivery. The cabin is right next to our house and I’ve been getting it ready for you for the past several months so you can connect easily to the office from here. It is ready whenever you can make it.” Elissa squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. “Thanks,” she whispered, deeply touched that her friend was trying to make a space cozy for her. They talked about the babies’ in-utero development and some of the sillier names Veronica and her husband Rick had tossed around. Veronica described the latest additions to the nursery and the antics of her kids at school who were all eager to get out for the summer break. By the end of the conversation, Elissa was laughing and offering suggestions, feeling like her old self again. Veronica always seemed to know when to call, Elissa thought as she opened the door to her apartment that night. She didn’t bother to turn on any lights. The small rooms were minimally filled with furniture and there was no food in the refrigerator. Elissa barely spent any time in her apartment, needing it only to sleep, shower and change clothes before heading off to work six or seven days a week. Getting ready for bed that night, she considered her life, or lack of it. Working eighteen to twenty hour days was really getting to be an awful drag, she thought as she pulled the sheet up over her and drifted off into a restless sleep. The next day was just as chaotic. But it was compounded by several messages from Jim asking her to see him as soon as she could. And then Darrel came to her office. “Hey gorgeous,” he said and dropped into one of the visitor’s chairs facing her desk. “How about if we kiss and make up?” Elissa didn’t even bother to glance away from her computer. “No thank you,” she said and typed in a few more numbers. “Ah, come on Elissa. Don’t be harsh. It was just a lover’s quarrel. Let’s get over this and move on,” he said coaxingly. There wasn’t even irritation anymore. She was just too tired and too busy for that emotion now. “First of all, we aren’t lovers,” she said, writing something down on her notepad. “That’s just one of the things I wanted to discuss. I think sex is getting in the way. We should just do it so we don’t fight over it anymore.” Elissa’s hands stilled on her keys only momentarily, but she still didn’t look at him. “We aren’t fighting over it anymore, Darrel. We aren’t fighting over anything anymore.” “Come on, Elissa. We look great together,” he said. Elissa was disgusted. She stopped typing and gave him her full attention. “Are you telling me that you want to get back together simply because we make an attractive couple? Are you really that superficial?” she asked, stunned that she hadn’t seen this side of him before. “Well, you have to admit that it makes the dinner parties easier,” he laughed. Elissa was done with the conversation. She turned back to her computer and continued her research. “Goodbye Darrel.” “Come on Elissa. Let’s at least talk about this,” he pleaded. The phone rang and Elissa picked it up. It was Jim. “Elissa, get into my office immediately.” Elissa picked up her notebook and a pen and walked around her desk, ignoring Darrel who was still sitting in the chair. “That’s it? No goodbye kiss or anything?” he exclaimed, grabbing her arm and stopping her. Elissa stopped only because she was so shocked. “Let go of me. Jim is waiting,” she said, flinging the director’s name in his face. Darrel instantly let go of her arm but called out to her retreating back, “Come to dinner with me tonight and we’ll finish this discussion.” Elissa ignored him and continued down the mauve colored carpeting to Jim’s office. It was a long walk and she had plenty of time to worry about his proposition from the night before. About The Royal Cordova Trilogy These three stories are about siblings - two sisters and a brother. I'd originally intended to just write the story about Anastasia (Ana).  But as the plot evolved, Marabeth became an interesting character. In Ana's story, Marabeth is engaged, but to a horrible man who treats her badly. So when I started my next book, I found myself automatically coming up with a resolution to Marabeth's romance. I loved the way she kept falling at Sam's feet. It was such a fun book to write that I just had to continue the family's story by going into Max's interactions with his assistant, Tara. In Marabeth's and Ana's story, Max is stiff and almost unapproachable.  So when Tara teases him about curtsying or having liver for lunch, it makes him much more human. It's always difficult to create an imaginary country - and one that is powerful enough to have rulers that will matter. I hope that I did an adequate job in these three love stories. Escaping A Royal Wedding Chapter 1 “I can’t believe you’re asking me to sell my body like this!” Princess Anastasia Elisia Marquenda said, almost in a whisper. She was trying to maintain a sense of dignity but was furious with her family all the same. The previously perfect start to her day was ruined. Pushing a frustrated hand through her thick, titian hair, she tried to remain calm, or at least present the image of serenity. It was extremely difficult under the circumstances though. Anastasia tried to keep the panic out of her voice but she knew she was failing miserably. “Why, Mother?” Queen Natasha smiled gently at her furious daughter. “First of all, I’d like to mention how lovely you look in that color of green. It brings out your blue eyes and gives your skin a bit of color. As for the current topic, Ana, you’ve known about this betrothal,” she said, stressing the word, “practically all your life. I don’t understand why your engagement party and wedding date being announced is such a shock to you,” Anastasia’s mother said calmly, the epitome of grace under fire. “You should have been expecting it after all these years.” Her mother was right. She had known about her betrothal since she was five years old. But she’d always expected to be married as soon as she turned twenty one. So five years later, still being unmarried, she’d assumed her “fiancé” had forgotten about the arrangement. Sadly, the announcement of her wedding date only moments ago had taken her by surprise. She’d have to think quickly. Somehow, she’d have to gain more time. The wedding date was proposed for three weeks in the future. “Why the sudden wedding? What happened to long engagements? Why does the wedding have to be so soon?” Ana asked, forcing a calm, even tone to her voice, knowing that her parents would respond better to reason than panic. Her mother nodded in understanding. “I agree. It does seem to be a bit of a rush. But that’s because King Alexander is in ailing health. Prince Erik will have to take over the crown sooner than expected.” Her mother’s explanation terrified her even more because it made sense. Rumors of King Alexander’s health had been all over the news lately. Shaking her head in an effort to circumvent the rationale she said, “That shouldn’t impact me! I didn’t make the man sick. Why should I be punished?” Ana wanted to scream and stomp her feet, but years of manners and training at controlling her temper kept her from showing her emotions. The only indications of her true feelings were her fists clenched at her sides, but the white linen table cloth hid them from view, as well as the anger showing in her blue eyes. “Mother, I’m twenty six years old. I was supposed to be married five years ago. I thought he’d forgotten about that silly betrothal contract. So yes, it is quite a shock to all of a sudden have my wedding date announced in the papers.” After a long moment of silence, she turned to face her mother, the anger now apparent on her gentle features. “I wasn’t even consulted!” she said, fighting back angry tears as she pushed her long red hair off her shoulder impatiently. “This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m the victim of an arranged marriage. It is too archaic.” The queen again smiled patiently, wishing her daughter wasn’t so upset about something that had been arranged at her birth. “Darling, that’s the way it is in most royal families. Even your younger sister was betrothed at birth.” Anastasia kept from shuddering at the reminder of her sister’s fiancé, but only barely. “Yes, and Marabeth isn’t very satisfied with her future either, I can tell you that,” she said without thinking. Ana took a long, deep breath, trying to gain control of her emotions again. “Mother, you can’t really think I’d be happy with that man, can you?” The queen hid a smile from her daughter, knowing it would only increase her fury. “I’m guessing you’re referring to Prince Erik?” Ana clenched her fists tighter. “Has the subject spontaneously changed and I haven’t kept up? Of course I’m talking about him.” Her mother nodded, unmoved by her daughter’s outburst. “I can’t imagine what you find so offensive about the man,” she said diplomatically. “He’s extremely handsome, tall, a wonderful dancer which I’ve experienced myself, a strong military man, which I haven’t experienced, thank goodness, and he’ll be a wonderful ruler over a beautiful country. Why can’t you say his name, dear?” Ana drummed her manicured fingernails against the white linen tablecloth impatiently. “Because the sound of it is too annoying. I’ve read about his exploits in the gossip columns too often over the past several years. I don’t want to have to think about him,” she sniffed and took a delicate sip of the still hot coffee. “The situation is bad enough without saying his awful name out loud.” The queen put a calming hand over Ana’s to stop the drumming. Looking her in the eye, she asked, “What are you angrier about? The fact that the man has had a few beautiful mistresses? Or that you’re going to be married to him next month?’ Ana pulled herself up regally in the chair and rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know. I resent the fact that he can go out and do just about anything he wants whereas I have so many restrictions placed on everything I do it is like being in a prison.” Natasha’s face showed her shock. “But you went to college dear. That’s more than what was expected of you. Finishing school would have been perfectly acceptable.” Ana’s crystal blue eyes looked into the green ones of her mother. “Thank you for educating me and letting me know what I can’t have. I don’t know if it is worse; knowing what’s out there and what I want to do, or not knowing what the possibilities are.” “What would you like to do that you can’t do as a princess here at home, or as the Queen of Montbain?” Ana bit her lip, wondering if she could tell her mother what she really wanted to do. Her mother was understanding and seemed to have the ability to influence her father the way no one else could. Did she dare? Looking into her mother’s concerned face, she decided to express her desires. Perhaps it would delay the wedding for a few more years. Maybe completely? “I’d like to go to law school and become a lawyer. I know it isn’t the most glamorous job in the world, but I like the intricacies of law.” Natasha smiled and put her jeweled hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Ana, you have an incredible mind and I’m sure if you started using it, you’d understand that your dreams don’t have to be forgotten.” With that, her mother stood up gracefully and glided across the room. “Don’t forget that we leave for Washington, D.C. tomorrow morning. Rose is already packing your bags but you’ll need to supervise. There will be engagements and obligations, not to mention a meeting with your future husband tomorrow night. You have been avoiding that for years. Tomorrow night you will be expected to join him at dinner regardless of whatever ailments suddenly fall upon your shoulders, young lady,” her mother admonished before stepping out of the room. Ana watched her mother cross the room and wished she could be as graceful and confident. Once she was alone, she stood up and walked to the window, staring out into the bright morning sunshine. The gardens outside her suite of rooms were just starting to blossom with the early spring flowers and she wished she could just climb out of her window and lay down in the fragrant earth, forgetting about her problems and the urgency of her upcoming nuptials. But the windows were bullet proof and sealed against intruders. She was so wrapped up in her own misery, she didn’t hear the door to her suite open and close. “Annie, which do you think would be better? The orange or the pink?” Marabeth, Ana’s younger sister by two years, asked as she walked into Ana’s room. Ana turned and almost grimaced at the two dresses her sister was holding up. Marabeth had red hair, just as Ana did and both colors would clash violently with her hair. “I’m guessing George will be there tomorrow night?” Ana asked, referring to Marabeth’s fiancé. Marabeth smiled broadly. “You betcha. I have to look my best, mother said. So which do you think would do the trick?” she asked, holding both dresses up to her face in turn. Ana laughed. The pink made Marabeth look like she was going to throw up and the orange brought out every possible freckle on the young woman’s face. “I think both will work out wonderfully for your purpose, Mara.” Marabeth tried hard to look her worst whenever she was around her betrothed. Marabeth chuckled. “What’s your plan?” she asked, laying the two dresses over the back of a chair and then flopping down onto it herself, not caring that the dresses would become wrinkled underneath her. Ana shook her head. “I don’t have one. I’d thought he’d forgotten me.” Marabeth moved over to stand directly behind her older sister, understanding Ana’s anger and frustration but unable to help diffuse it. “That wasn’t very forward thinking of you, Annie,” she said quietly. “I know,” she said and walked across the room, touching the beautiful pink silk of the dress. It really was a pretty dress, just not intended for a redhead. “How did you even get this dress inside the palace? It wasn’t made by Lizzy, was it?” Ana said, referring to the royal dress designer who made all the clothes for Ana and Marabeth. Lizzy made sure the royal family was always dressed in the finest clothes which were at the height of fashion. “No. I bought it in London last week when I was there visiting George. He was ogling the waitress during lunch. You know what a stickler the man is for fashion. I thought the dress would be the perfect punishment.” Ana laughed. “That’s a good idea.” “You won’t mind me being in something this hideous for your engagement pictures?” Ana shook her head. “No. I don’t want the pictures, so why would I care what they look like?” “Good point,” she replied, smilingly brightly. “Okay, I have to finish assembling my wardrobe for the next week,” she said and stood up, grabbing the two dresses in one hand. She glanced through the windows at the pretty gardens and sighed. “At least we’ll get out of the palace. I’m not looking forward to another hotel room but maybe the walls will be a different color.” Chapter 2 Prince Erik Marcus Phillips the Third walked quickly down the hallway, nodding to his father’s cabinet members as he passed but not really paying much attention to them. The guards opened the doors before he even had to slow down and Erik walked into his father’s private office. “The results of the study aren’t adequate, Father,” he said without preamble. “We need more evidence before making a decision of this kind,” he continued and placed the papers in the middle of the large, polished desk. Erik observed his father as he picked up the papers. He looked older but wasn’t sure he noticed the ailing health his father had been using as the excuse to move up Erik’s wedding. It was no matter, Erik thought. If his father wanted him to marry, he’d do it. He loved and respected his father and he’d been given several extra years of freedom, for which he’d always be grateful. “What do you recommend?” King Alexander Phillips asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his hands over his still firm stomach. “We should hold off. There’s definitely enough evidence to suggest alternatives to that plan of action and we should explore the possibilities. Forming an alliance with that branch will only cause several problems later on and I think we can avoid those if we’re careful.” King Alexander nodded his head and silently agreed with his son. He was proud of the man sitting in front of his desk. He was strong and opinionated, smart and had a genuine love of his country. He would make a good king but he had to be married. The public would demand it. And more importantly, Alexander wanted grandkids. If he didn’t push things along, Erik would continue with his mistresses and be content with the arrangement. The man was thirty-six and was driving himself at both ends. He worked hard and was brilliant with the national representatives, knowing how to put both party’s issues into the mix and come out with wonderful compromises. The man was a born leader with a decisive personality and the intelligence to absorb a huge amount of data and process it into a solution. But Alexander knew he didn’t spare himself with the ladies. “Good. Anything else?” King Alexander replied. “Nothing urgent. The unions and farmers would like to talk. They’ve sent representatives and apparently are up in arms about the issues I briefed you on last week. But nothing new. There are several oil negotiations that need to be worked out since the leases are up next year but I don’t foresee any problems there either.” “Fine, fine,” the king said, nodding his approval. tomorrow?” he asked. “Are you ready for Erik raised one eyebrow. “What’s tomorrow?” Erik vaguely remembered that they were flying to the United States and he mentally ticked off several meetings he wanted to schedule while he was there. King Alexander chuckled. “You’re meeting your future wife? There’s the big engagement party tomorrow night? Any of this ringing a bell?” Erik grimaced inwardly, hoping his father didn’t perceive that he’d forgotten that detail. He nodded quickly to cover his lack of interest in the event. “Yes, I think so. Princess Anastasia? Isn’t that her name?” he asked, not really concerned with the situation. “That’s correct. Very lovely woman, if I remember her correctly. Spirited child,” he laughed again. “I believe you met her about ten years ago. She probably hasn’t changed that much in your mind given that you haven’t seen her since her coming out party. She was showing genuine signs of beauty then although she was rather gangly at that point. I’ve seen her several times since then and she has blossomed into a stunning woman.” “I’m sure she’ll be adequate,” Erik replied uninterestedly, vaguely remembering a shy red-head with white skin and freckles. She’d been painfully skinny ten years ago so he didn’t have much anticipation of her looks now. “We can probably schedule meetings with the oil companies while we are there. That will free up more time next month when we start the lease negotiations again.” King Alexander sighed. “You understand that this woman is going to become your wife and the future Queen of Montbain, correct? I’ve never seen anyone so nonchalant about getting married.” Erik dismissed his wedding with a casual wave of his hand. “I have no doubt that she has been raised properly. I’ve met and respect King Stephan a great deal. He’s a very fair ruler.” King Alexander frowned at his son. “You know I’m wanting grandkids very soon!” he said sternly. “I’ll have none of this dilly dallying around, young man! You’re of an age when you should already have several children but you’ve been fooling around about this situation for too long.” Erik smiled fondly at his father. “I don’t believe I’ve had a problem with the act of making babies before. If she is as beautiful as you say, I will pursue the subject with great diligence after the wedding,” he said. King Alexander’s eyebrows drew together sharply. “What do you mean? You haven’t fathered any children already, have you?” “Calm down, Father. You’ll get your blood pressure stirred up.” King Alexander stiffened at the non-answer from his son. “Don’t you worry about my blood pressure, answer the bloody question, son!” “No. You can rest easy about that subject. I have not fathered any children to date. I was just explaining that I have been very diligent about practicing.” King Alexander quickly calmed down. After a few moments, he chuckled. “Well, I’ll agree with you on the practice part. But it is time to stop practicing and get down to the task.” “If the woman is as beautiful as it is rumored she is, I don’t think I’ll have any problems applying myself to the task with a vengeance.” “Good, good,” the king said, relaxing back into his chair. “What were you saying about the leases again?” he moved on to the next subject. Erik and his father discussed affairs of state for the next hour. After which, he went back to his suite and informed his valet that they would be traveling. “Already informed of that sir. And congratulations, I might add, on your upcoming nuptials,” Jim said, bowing slightly. “What’s that?” Erik said, glancing at a file. “Oh, right. Yes, thank you,” he replied distractedly then glanced back down at the file he’d been reading. Chapter 3 Ana walked into the hotel suite of the Mayflower Hotel the following morning. Located across the street from the White House, it was used for most out of state dignitaries that weren’t here on official state business. Although her father would meet with the president, it would be only a social call. This visit was more business oriented than political. The fact that Ana’s engagement party was scheduled for tonight was only a matter of convenience, which made her grit her teeth each time she thought about it. It was still relatively early and Ana didn’t have any obligations today. She was scheduled to visit the spa after lunch and get a manicure, pedicure, facial and massage in preparation for her meeting with her fiancé tonight. Marabeth walked into her room and flounced onto a settee. “Hi. Want to watch a movie?” she asked, already bored. “I thought you were meeting George for lunch. What happened to that appointment?” Ana asked, sitting down on the upholstered chair opposite her sister. “Canceled,” she said with a wave of her hand, then pushed her heavy red curls behind her shoulders. “He probably had a meeting with his mistress,” she supposed out loud, rolling her blue eyes at the thought. Ana smiled sympathetically but tried not to show it. Marabeth didn’t want pity. She was too proud for that. “That’s not what he said, I’m guessing. What’s his official excuse this time?” “Business but he conveys his deepest regrets,” she said sarcastically, putting her hand over her heart. Ana tucked a red curl behind her ear and laughed at her younger sister’s deprecating joke. “Okay, so what are we going to do for the rest of the morning?” Both girls jumped slightly as the door to Ana’s suite opened suddenly. “Oh, good, I’m glad I found you, Marabeth,” their mother said as she walked into the room, slightly breathless. “George called and your lunch date with him is back on. You’ll have to hurry if you’re going to be on time,” she said. Marabeth rolled her eyes. “Oh mother, why do I have to jump each time he calls? This is ridiculous,” she said but stood up and walked quickly into her room. Natasha sighed as she followed her youngest daughter. “I’m sorry dear. I’ll help you find something appropriate to wear. It seems that you’ve lost your sense of style lately when it comes to your meetings with George,” she said, following her daughter out of the room. Ana stood up and walked to the window. Outside, the day was beautiful and sunny. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the daffodils were already in full bloom. Ana sighed and wondered what it would be like to walk along the streets and be like a tourist. She watched some joggers as they passed by the hotel window, wishing she could exercise out in the fresh air instead of on the tread mill in the palace or hotel gym. Someone walked by with a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. The man strolled casually through the trees until he sat down underneath one. The man simply sipped and read the newspaper. Ana watched him for almost a half hour, wishing she could be like him. She should just leave the hotel and get a cup of coffee. Moving away from the window, she reached into her suitcase and pulled out her book. Sitting down on the settee her sister had just vacated, Ana tried to dive into the world of literature, hoping it would take her mind off tonight’s anticipated but undesired meeting with her future husband. The thought of leaving the hotel on her own kept niggling in her mind though. She looked around at the perfectly decorated, but incredibly bland hotel suite. Why couldn’t she just go have a cup of coffee by herself? What harm would it cause? She was a grown woman, she had a book and she wanted to read outside of the hotel and away from her guards. There was always the threat of kidnapping which had been drilled into her from a young age. But really, how dangerous could it be? She was a princess from a small, mountain country that was strategic but not powerful. Because she’d led such a protected existence, her face really wasn’t that recognizable. She was going to do it, she decided. Ana walked to her purse and pulled out her wallet. No money! Ugh, she thought. How could she get some money? She wasn’t sure how much a cup of coffee costs, especially here in the U.S. She walked out to the main rooms of the suite and found her older brother, Prince Maximillian reading through some files. “Max, I need your help,” she said. Max instantly put his file down and turned toward his sister. Max was a wonderful older brother if somewhat arrogant and only slightly domineering. But Ana excused him for that since he had been trained from birth to be ruler of his country. He was also the exact opposite of Ana and Marabeth in looks. Whereas the girls were petite with striking red hair and green or crystal blue eyes, Max had inherited their father’s dark black hair and dark blue eyes. He was also very tall and muscular from years of military training. “What do you need?” he asked, looking down fondly at his sister. “I need some money,” she said. “Do you have any American currency?” she asked. Max barely blinked at her surprising question. “Yes. What do you need? I’ll have room service send it up,” he said patronizingly and started reaching for the phone. “No, please. I don’t want room service. If you don’t want to give me a few dollars, I’ll get it from mother.” Max laughed. “I doubt mother has any either, Ana. What do you need? I promise that Americans have all the conveniences of home and whatever you need can be delivered to you.” Ana sighed and her shoulders drooped slightly. “Yes. I’m sure you’re right. Thank you,” she said and returned to the privacy of her rooms. The Man’s Outrageous Demands Marabeth Elizabeth Marquenda, Royal Princess of Cordova, stood in the red salon, twirling the tassel of the velvet curtain between her fingers. She took a deep breath and began again, wishing she could come up with the right words to explain her proposal. “Here’s the situation, Lord Marcum,” she began, speaking to the man sitting on the settee behind her. “I know you don’t really understand the problems of being royalty. It can be extremely tedious sometimes and there are restrictions on what one says and does and where we go and how we act. But there are advantages as well. For instance, we….” Marabeth looked out the window at the darkness, trying to come up with an example. “We….um…” she couldn’t really think of anything right at the moment. She sighed, frustrated and embarrassed but trying to put on a good front and determined to plow through the situation. “Well, there are, you’ll just have to trust me.” Since the man hadn’t interrupted her, she took a deep breath and continued. “You see, I have to find a husband quickly. And you seem to be the one my parents apparently like. So…I was wondering, if it isn’t too much trouble, if you could possibly see your way, to, well…you know… perhaps it wouldn’t be terribly awkward…." She stopped, flustered on how to proceed. Marabeth was just too embarrassed. She was glad her back was still to the man or he’d probably see the color in her cheeks. She wanted to propose to Lord Marcum, but the words just wouldn’t come to her. How does one tell a man that, because he’s not terribly loathsome, he would do for a husband? Wasn’t there more to the world? Didn’t she have some other opportunity besides being married to a man she could barely endure? Was this what she would face for the rest of her life? “Please continue. I’m desperate to hear what you’re about to ask your devoted audience,” a strange, deep voice said from behind her. Marabeth spun around to locate the voice, her flaming red hair swinging over one shoulder and her crystal blue eyes turning angry at the invasion. She had thought that she and Lord Marcum were alone in the salon. She’d been sure to check the area before starting the conversation only a few minutes ago, which meant someone had invaded the room while she’d been talking, a horribly humiliating possibility. But there, standing just inside the doorway, was an incredibly handsome man leaning against the wall with a slight smile on his lips, his eyes dark and sexy with his hands in his tuxedo pockets looking very “James Bondish”. He was extremely tall, with dark hair and very broad shoulders. His tuxedo must be well padded which made him look more muscular than he possibly could be. “Who are you?” Marabeth demanded, shocked and embarrassed that she had been caught in such an awkward situation. The man walked over to her and bowed low. “Sam Montrose, at your service, Your Highness.” He took her cold hand in his large, warm one and kissed her fingers, sending delicious shivers through her system. He glanced at the man sitting on the settee behind them. “Would you like me to rouse the man so you can finish proposing to him?” Marabeth ignored the tingles shooting up her arm from his touch and quickly pulled her hand out from his, feeling her cheeks flame red with embarrassment once more as he acknowledged that he had indeed heard her entire, pathetic, awkward speech. She looked over at Lord Marcum and, sure enough, he was sound asleep on the settee, leaning precariously against the side as if he were about to topple off the furniture. Good grief, she thought as she looked at the sleeping man and wishing him to perdition for the humiliation he was currently causing her. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t even propose to a man? Was she that boring and pathetic? Couldn’t she hold a man’s interest for longer than the time it took to dance and say all the correct trivialities? The man named Sam chuckled at her indignation. “I’m guessing he’s not very interested. But perhaps if you ask me, I’ll stay awake long enough to hear your proposal.” That only ignited her anger more. How could he be so ungentlemanly to tease her in such an embarrassing moment such as this? The double insult, first from Lord Marcum falling asleep during her proposal and now this…this man teasing her, it was just too much for Marabeth to take with her present frustration. “Oh! Who are you and what are you doing in here?” Marabeth demanded, taking several steps away from the tall, overwhelming man who smelled wonderful, she noted irritably. “My apologies for the intrusion, Your Highness,” he said and bowed again but his eyes were glinting with humor. “I’m here at the request of your brother, Prince Maximillian. But I’m very glad to have made your acquaintance.” Marabeth was not used to someone being so casual around her. Most people bowed and curtsied in her presence, usually driving her nuts. But this man was entirely too informal around her. Didn’t he have any respect for her title at all? She was a royal princess but he was treating her as if she were a waitress at the bar he was patronizing. “Shall I rouse him so you can finish?” Sam offered again. Marabeth looked over at the man sleeping on the settee with disgust. “No. Thank you though,” she said as politely as her anger would allow and started to step around the taller man. But Sam caught her by the arm to stop her. His grip wasn’t hard. It was very light in fact. It was the heat coming through to her skin that shocked her to her core. Gone was the teasing glint and mercurial smile. His eyes were intense as they bored into her own gaze. “Don’t sell yourself short, princess,” he said earnestly. “You’re worth more than just someone you can endure. Shouldn’t you be looking for someone you’re attracted to and could grow to love instead of simply someone your parents will approve of?” She jerked her arm out of his hand and stepped back, wishing she didn’t already feel bereft now that his touch was no longer on her arm. “What do you know of my situation?” she demanded, furious that the man had heard her whole, pathetic almost-proposal and could read her so easily. Sam dropped his hand from her arm and nodded slightly. ”Nothing. Nothing at all, but my statement still stands. You’re worth a whole lot more.” Marabeth was captured by the intensity of his gaze. His eyes looked down deep into her soul as if he could sense the butterflies his touch and closeness created. “Well, thank you very much for your advice,” Marabeth whispered. “If you’ll excuse me, I really should get back to the party. My parents will be wondering where I am,” she said. “What about your date?” Sam asked, nodding to the still sleeping man slumped over on the settee. Marabeth looked at the man and sighed. “He’s not my date,” she said and shook her head as she rushed out of the room on shaking legs. What a fiasco, Marabeth thought as she hurried back into the ballroom and took a glass of cold champagne. She didn’t really want the liquor. She’d prefer a glass of ice cold water. Or something that would cool off her embarrassment. But Marabeth understood that life rarely gave one what was asked of it. She watched in horror as her brother, Max, brought the tall man from the salon up to meet her father, who instantly shook his hand and nodded enthusiastically. They seemed to be talking intently, her father nodding at whatever Sam was saying. She then watched as a beautiful blond walked up to the group of men. Marabeth knew the woman, had known her since childhood. She was Lady Cecile Phillips and she’d been hounding Max to marry her for years. But tonight she didn’t flirt with Max. Marabeth’s dislike of Lady Cecile grew to amazing proportions as she turned and seductively flirted with Sam, right in front of Marabeth’s mother and father, both of whom just smiled benignly. Sam then led the lovely lady off to the dance floor and smiled down into her vapid blue eyes as they danced closely. Marabeth wanted to scream to Sam that Cecile was just a vacuous social climber who would sell herself off to the highest bidder. She placed her now empty glass on a side table and took another while she continued to glare at the striking couple over the rim, wishing both of them to perdition. And just when Marabeth thought the evening could not get any worse, Sam looked up over Cecile’s irritating blond head and caught Marabeth staring at them. He had the audacity to wink at her! Marabeth wanted to throw her glass of champagne at him but he was too far away, and it wouldn’t be very couth of her. Manners came as a distant second reason for not throwing it. Marabeth walked over to where her mother was standing and joined the group, trying to listen to the conversation. Unfortunately, it was about Sam and his qualifications for some sort of government position but she wasn’t sure which since she’d come in at the tail end of the discussion. Obviously Max was extolling the obnoxious man’s virtues to their parents. She tried to walk away, not wanting to be involved in the conversation if it had anything to do with that man who had caught her at possibly the most humiliating moment of her life. She stepped away but her mother touched her arm gently. “Are you okay, dear? You look a little flushed,” Queen Natasha asked gently, always the epitome of grace and elegance. “I’m fine, mother,” Marabeth said, but she raised one hand to her cheek, testing its heat. The queen smiled and turned to face the couples dancing. “Good. Then tell me what you think of Sam Montrose. I saw you walk back into the ballroom with him right behind you several minutes ago. What were the two of you discussing together?” Marabeth gritted her teeth, not wanting her name connected to the obnoxious man’s for any reason. “Nothing. I believe he was talking to Max and I was talking to Richard Marcum.” That definitely caught her mother’s attention. “Oh, that’s nice. How is he doing?” Queen Natasha asked. “He’s fine, I suppose. Very tired, though,” she said with derision, mostly aimed at herself though. “Where is he?” the queen asked, looking around the ballroom. “I haven’t seen him in a while but his mother is over there by the window.” Marabeth looked at the short, overweight woman who smiled artificially at everyone in her group. “I believe he’s still in the red salon, but I can’t be sure.” “Well, I’ll see him later, I suppose. I was wondering, have you considered him as a possible candidate?” her mother asked. Marabeth stifled a groan of annoyance. Since she had been in the middle of proposing to the man, she couldn’t very well lie and say that she hadn’t considered him. “The thought crossed my mind, but I don’t think he’ll work out.” “Why not? He comes from a very nice family. I understand he’s taking over his father’s business soon. And I’m sure if he didn’t want to do that, we could find him a civil service job. Maybe that would allow you to live in the palace? I know your father and I would like that.” Marabeth sighed. She’d heard this conversation so many times it was becoming a ritual at every party. Not specifically about Lord Marcum but there was always some candidate her mother or father pointed out to her and listed the man’s acceptability for marriage. “I know mother. And yes, I’m sure he’d make a very nice husband for someone with very low blood pressure,” she said. The chuckle behind her almost made her temper explode. How she managed to control the detonation was beyond her powers of reasoning. All Marabeth could do at that moment was excuse herself from her mother and Sam, who had finished his dance with Lady Cecile and was now standing on the perimeters of their group talking to Max and several others, many of whom were women. “If you’ll excuse me mother, I really need to talk to Beatrice,” she said, referring to her school friend she’d just spotted across the room. The rest of the evening was just as irritating. It seemed that every time she turned around, she either caught Sam dancing with some other beautiful woman, or he was looking directly at her. It was disconcerting and exhausting. By the time the midnight hour struck, Marabeth made her excuses and exited the ballroom. She closed the doors to her suite of rooms and pulled her long, white gloves off. Tossing them onto her dressing table, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t see the redheaded beauty that stared back at her with soft, blue eyes. Nor did she see the flawless white skin that seemed to glow from within. All she saw was the awkward, skinny redhead with freckles that boys had ignored as a teenager. The only reason she’d had her first date at sixteen was because she’d already been betrothed to George Malcolm, the Third. He had been killed in a driving accident two years ago, right after her sister’s wedding. Now Marabeth found herself in the bizarre situation of having to find herself a new husband. Several months after his death, she’d heard her parents discussing new, possible fiancés. She’d begged them to not commit her to someone she wasn’t remotely attracted to, like George. They’d agreed, but not very happily. They considered it their responsibility to find her a husband who was safe, having lived with the continuous threat of kidnapping all their lives. Marabeth pulled the zipper down her back and, inexplicably, the smell of Sam came to her mind. She had to admit that he smelled very nice. It wasn’t cologne which she generally didn’t like on men. But it was earthy and masculine. Very nice and strong, she thought. Hanging the dress on a hanger in the closet, she pulled on a silk negligee and slipped between the sheets. Pushing thoughts of the irritating man out of her head, she considered the other men she’d seen tonight. Although her parents were willing to consider her opinion on the subject of her husband, she knew they were growing impatient to have the issue settled. Marabeth knew her father wanted grandchildren and an heir to the throne just in case Max never settled down and married, which was a definite possibility considering the way he discreetly had a mistress tucked away at all times, but never the same one for very long. Marabeth slept fitfully that night, her dreams interrupted by a tall, handsome man. She ran from him throughout her dreams but each time she turned the corner, she ran into him, his arms closing around her gently, but firmly and his head bending down to kiss her lips. Each time her dream came to that point, she pulled herself out of the dream, waking and frantically trying to go back to sleep and dream about something else. By the time the sun was streaming across her bed, she was still exhausted and none of her anger had dissipated since the man had not only intruded upon her embarrassing proposal, he’d also plagued her dreams. The man had absolutely no right to be that invasive she thought. Walking down to the stables that morning, she tried to let the fresh, spring air calm her temper and soothe her tired soul. The birds were chirping and the sun was just coming up over the horizon as she entered the stables. “Hello, my Beauty,” Marabeth said to her horse as she entered his stall. “I hope you’re in a frisky mood today,” she said and patted the stallion’s flanks. The horse whinnied and snickered, eager for Marabeth’s touch. “Oh, my. You seem to be ready for a real ride today, aren’t you?” she said and led the great, black stallion out of the stall and into the yard. Marabeth started the soothing process of saddling her horse, getting ready for her morning ride. Both horse and rider enjoyed these quiet times and Marabeth was in no hurry this morning, enjoying the horse’s frisky teasing. “I understand,” Marabeth said finally as she lifted the heavy saddle onto the horse’s back, then strapped the buckle underneath. “I’m with you. I need to get away from here. Too stuffy lately,” she said, thinking she was alone. “I’ll bet you haven’t seen that irritating man, but if he ever comes around here, you just throw him off, understand? And tell all your friends, too,” she said and patted the horse’s flank again reassuringly. “Who in the world are you talking to?” a deep voice said from behind her. Marabeth spun around, facing the man with the voice, her body instantly starting to tremble as his large frame came closer. “And who would you like your horse, and the entire stable of horses to throw off his back?” Sam asked, raising one eyebrow as he noted the high color in her cheeks. “Me, perhaps?” “What are you doing down here?” Marabeth demanded, ignoring his question. She wasn’t going to answer him since he was exactly who she wanted all the horses to toss. “I’m going riding, of course,” he said. “Didn’t you invite me for a ride?” he teased. “No. This is my own private time. I ride alone.” “Pity,” he said, standing too close for her peace of mind. “Oh, Sam. I’m glad you’re down here early,” Max said as he came around the corner. “Marabeth! I didn’t know you were going riding this morning. Don’t you usually get out there earlier than this?” he asked. His glance went between Sam and Marabeth, instantly understanding that there was some unexplained tension between the two of them. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked. “Absolutely not,” Marabeth said and walked her horse over to the mounting block. “I was just on my way,” she said and lifted her leg over the saddle. She settled herself, then smiled behind her at the two men watching her. “Have a good ride,” she said and clicked her heel’s into Beauty’s flanks. The horse instantaneously sprang forward and they were out of the stable area and down one of her favorite paths. “Is she always allowed to go off on her own?” Sam asked, watching her ride away and noting how gorgeous she looked on the stallion. It was as if the two were made for each other. He inhaled sharply as she led the stallion over a tall fence, then off into the woods, executing the jump flawlessly. “Yes. She knows those woods pretty well though. She’ll be back in less than an hour,” Max said. “Come on. I think our horses should be saddled by now. I have a lot to talk about with you,” he said and patted Sam on the shoulder. Sam watched for a few more moments, then followed Max into the stables to check on their horses. Sam knew what Max wanted to talk to him about so it wasn’t urgent that they get started. He knew Max was trying to make this both private so Sam could turn him down if he needed to, but also a time to talk Sam into taking the position. Sam knew what his answer would be already. Max was wasting his time. But if it meant getting on a horse and following the sexy redhead into the woods, then Sam was all for it. “Ready?” Max said, pulling himself gracefully onto a strong, brown and white pinto. “Absolutely,” Sam said and swung up onto a feisty brown stallion. As soon as he touched his heels to the horse, he jumped forward, eager to gallop through the forest. Sam was glad for the horse’s speed since he wanted to try and catch up with the redhead who had disappeared several minutes ago. Max led the way through the forest and they spent several minutes racing down a pathway that wound its way through the trees and bushes, then broke out into a field of high grass. Sam could see where the other rider had ridden. Unfortunately, Max took a different route that led them up a slight incline. The ride was worth it though, since they topped a hill and were able to stop and watch the valley below with the sun rising over the trees. They stood still for several long moments and just enjoyed the stillness. Max then turned and faced Sam. “So, is there any need for me to try and convince you to take over as Minister of Defense? The current minister wants to retire as soon as possible. Both me and my father think you would be the ideal candidate to replace him.” Sam looked out over the beautiful countryside. “I don’t understand why you want me to take over. I already have my own security company.” “That’s exactly why we want you to take over. Your company is arguably the best in the world. Your services are requested by just about every important family and company. You’ve built it up through hard work and common sense. But you also have a strong military background. You’re the ideal candidate to take over as Minister of Defense because you understand both the commercial and military side of all the issues.” Sam looked out at the horizon, silent for a moment as he took in everything Prince Maximilian was saying. “Basically, I’ve done it all so you now want me to give up the easy life of a CEO who can pretty much come and go as I please in order to serve my country and become embroiled in the security of an entire people as well as the royal family of Cordova.” Max smiled cheekily. “That about sums it up.” “So what’s in it for me?” Max laughed. “Don’t be coy, Sam. I know you better than that. You’re chomping at the bit for a new challenge. You’re company is successful and has a great reputation but you’re bored out of your mind, aren’t you?” He had a point, Sam thought. The day to day responsibilities of running a large company were starting to bore him. He knew he’d been looking for a challenge, but he was pretty sure it didn’t involve playing politics. “You’re still not giving me any good reason to take the job,” he said. “You’ll have lots of new toys to play with,” Max said, as if that would entice him. “I can buy all the new toys I need,” Sam countered. “Not good enough.” Max watched his friend and considered his next words carefully. “There’s trouble brewing in the military. The training is falling below standards, recruits are starting to get slack, the Navy, although small, is being utilized poorly and the commanders are getting rowdy. The only thing holding the military together is my father’s authority. But he has too many diplomatic obligations right now. We need a strong leader to take over and set things back to rights. That man is you, Sam.” Sam didn’t move in his saddle and his thighs held the horse still. He considered all the things Max was saying and knew that those were the only words that would have convinced him to take the job. Sam loved this country and knew he would have to step in and fix things. He couldn’t let his beloved country flounder. It was small, but strategic and the strong military and diplomatic finesse of his king were the only two things that kept Cordova from becoming a puppet in the world theatre. He knew he would do anything to keep that from happening. Sam sighed and, without looking at Max, said, “When do you need me to take over?” Max smothered a smile of satisfaction. “Tomorrow?” he joked. Sam glanced over at the prince and raised one eyebrow. “That bad, huh?” “It’s getting there. How about if you start to look into the situation immediately? Let us know what needs to happen and what kind of support you’ll need. I know Admiral Chennok is ready to step down immediately and head for retirement but after your assessment of the situation, you can determine your own start date. That will also give you the time needed to find a successor to your company.” Sam nodded and watched as the image he had been hoping to see finally appeared. The woman on the black horse raced across the valley, her red hair streaming out behind her. Although he couldn’t hear her, he knew the moment she laughed in delight. The sun glittered and followed the gorgeous creature as she rode her horse through the tall grass. Mistress to the Prince This meeting was ludicrous! Prince Maximillian Gregorio Marquenda stifled a spurt of irritation when the bald man banged his fist against the polished conference room table. He pretended to listen politely to the group of elderly gentlemen as they tried to convince him that the government of Cordova needed to fund their latest project. As soon as the double doors to the conference room opened, Max’s attention was diverted and he wasn’t disappointed. He saw her walking toward him and could feel his body reacting to just the sight of her. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted how long her legs looked in her perfect, business-like suit. Gritting his teeth, he prepared himself for her closeness, for her subtle, flowery perfume that had haunted him for so many nights. The lead on his pencil snapped when she whispered the urgent message in his ear. The broken lead had nothing to do with her words and everything to do with her lips so close to his ear. Max had been concentrating on the discussion, quickly taking notes on the margins of the report but with her mouth so close to his ear, all he wanted to do was kiss her sexy lips that were definitely not business-like and smell her incredibly alluring perfume. But he didn’t. Because Tara Jacobs had never shown any indication that she was interested in Max in any way other than as an employer. In fact, the woman went to great pains to make sure he didn’t get the wrong impression. He gripped his broken pencil and tried to concentrate on her words as she repeated her message. It was useless. Standing up, he put a hand to the small of her back and guided her out of the conference room. “I’m sorry, what was that?” his deep voice asked as soon as the doors closed behind them. Tara Jacobs, his sexy, seductive, amazingly efficient and professional secretary repeated the message while standing in front of him this time and Max was finally able to understand her words. “King Alexander has requested your presence immediately,” Tara explained. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have interrupted your meeting for anything less,” Tara said, the apology in her eyes as well as being spoken by those lips that Max had created some vivid fantasies around. “That’s fine,” Max ground out, and tried to ignore the appeal of her soft, blue eyes or wonder how long her hair was. Every day it was neatly twisted into a tight, professional chignon, painstakingly pinned to the back of her neck without a wisp escaping. It didn’t matter. There was nothing Tara Jacobs could do to diminish her appeal. Even with her hair pulled back harshly, her eyes were too soft and her lips too full for anyone to forget how incredibly beautiful she was. Refocusing on the task at hand, Max handed her his notes. “Can you sit in on the meeting for me and take notes?” he asked. With a nod, Tara took his report and entered the room without a backwards glance in his direction. Max almost cursed under his breath, wishing he could maintain the same detached professionalism that seemed to be effortless to her. Unfortunately, ever since she’d started working for him, he’d grown more and more fascinated by the woman. Did she even know that he existed as anything other than her employer or the crown prince of her country? He doubted it. She was too business oriented. Tara probably didn’t even know that he was a different gender. He glared at the closed doors. Other women threw themselves at him and he’d heard recently that he’d been nominated the most desirable bachelor for some women’s magazine. What did other women see in him that Tara didn’t? Max turned on his heel, disgusted with himself for even thinking such ridiculous thoughts and walked quickly down the hallway toward his father’s office. The king rarely summoned him during business hours so it must be something important to be called down to his father’s office in the middle of the day. They generally spoke during dinner hours and discussed the business of the country and projects that happened during the day. “Yes father?” Max asked as soon as he stepped into his father’s private offices. “Max! Good, good. Very efficient secretary you have there. I only called her five minutes ago.” “Yes. She’s very good,” he said, thinking of her luscious figure and wondering how good she would feel in his arms. He instinctively knew they would be incredible together. “Have a seat,” the king said, interrupting Max’s sexual fantasy that starred his not-interested secretary. The king waved behind him indicating the sofa and chairs that were situated in one corner of his office. “I wanted to talk to you without the rest of the family around. Especially your mother.” Max had a sneaking suspicion he knew what this was going to be about if his father didn’t want his mother involved. Marriage. Or more specifically, grandchildren. As soon as they were both settled, Max was proven right. “I want to know what you’re doing about producing an heir, son.” Max settled back and smiled fondly at his father. “I think you have several heirs and the trend will continue if Ana and Mara’s current pattern is any indication,” he joked. The king was not interested in joking. “Don’t be obtuse, Max. This is serious stuff. You’re thirty six years old. You have an obligation to your title and to your country to marry and produce an heir to the throne. You should already have your nursery set up and well established by now. I want to know what is keeping you from producing my grandson.” Max wasn’t intimidated by the king’s demands. He smiled and nodded his head. “Just find me the right woman and I’ll marry her, Father.” He ignored the image of Tara’s impish smile that popped into his head. She wasn’t interested in him in that way and he needed to accept that. “Now, you know after the last two marriage experiences in this family, your mother has refused to do anything about arranged marriages anymore. Marabeth’s was a relief to get out of and, well, you know about Anastasia’s shocking behavior,” the king shook his head at the memories. “Didn’t think we’d make it to the alter on that one,” the king said gruffly, remembering the chaos both his daughters had caused during their romances prior to the wedding. Max laughed at his father’s continued annoyance more than three years after Ana’s wedding. Getting back to the topic, he reminded his father, “I take out every woman mother sees fit to match me up with.” “And then some,” King Stephan grumbled, eyeing his son with a stern expression. “And if I know your mother, she’s picking eminently eligible ladies to introduce you to. She’s just as interested in having grandchildren but for a whole different reason entirely,” he said stiffly. Max smiled, knowing his father wanted exactly the same thing his mother wanted. “Are you saying you wouldn’t like a few grandkids to spoil? Don’t even try to convince me that you’re only interested in ensuring succession of the crown,” Max laughed. “I’ve seen you around Mindy, Lucas and Angelica. You love those kids,” he said, referring to his nieces and nephew. The king smiled fondly at the thought of his three grandchildren. “Yes, but they don’t live here. And none will take over the throne. That’s up to you. So what are you going to do about it?” An image of a sultry, efficient brunette popped into his head. He quickly banished the idea. Tara didn’t even know he was male, he reminded himself. If it didn’t have a computer or budget attached to it, she wouldn’t notice it. “I’ll get right on it,” Max said. “Was there anything else?” King Stephan sighed heavily. “No. That’s all. We’ll catch up on the rest later.” Max stood up and walked over to his father’s chair. “Sorry I can’t speed things up, Father,” he said and patted his father’s shoulder. “Well, see what you can do about trying,” Stephan said gruffly as his son walked to his office door. “Will do,” Max said before closing the door behind him. He walked back to his offices and found the meeting he’d left just letting out. Tara was still writing down notes on a notebook. She looked up and noticed him, then quickly straightened, “I’ll get these notes typed up for you immediately,” she said and efficiently walked over to her computer. “That’s fine,” Max said, stopping a short distance away so he could admire her legs in the shorter than normal skirt. “What’s next on the agenda?” he asked, sitting down on the corner of her desk. He watched as Tara pressed a few keys on her keyboard and his daily agenda popped up. “You have lunch with security, then afternoon meetings with the machinists union. That runs until five o’clock, and a charity ball tonight with Lady Margaret.” “Hmm..not very interesting, huh?” Tara turned and smiled, her dimples appearing as if by magic. Margaret isn’t interesting?” “Lacy Max shook his head, enjoying the smile on her face. “Never met her. She’s another one of my mother’s setups.” “Well, be nice to this one,” she laughed. “From what you told me about yesterday’s fiasco, you were bordering on rude.” Max wasn’t immune to her dimples. His body always reacted to her laughter because of those alluring dimples so he had to cough slightly to come up with a response. “If you’re referring to the Countess Sophia, I was being incredibly nice. I warned her in advance of her annoying habits and I couldn’t help it when she ignored my warnings.” “Yes, well, signing her up for nose surgery was really not gentlemanly.” Tara shook her head, remembering Max telling her the next day about the conversation he’d had to have with his date who snorted when she laughed. “I’ll bet she does it though,” Max teased. Tara tried to maintain her frown, but he was just too charming. “I’ll bet she does too,” she said grinning, knowing that just about any woman would do anything to stay in the good graces of Prince Maximillian. It could be nauseating at times, the lengths some women would go through to get his attention. Tara watched him flip through the notes she’d made on the report, admiring his long, slender fingers, his muscular forearms. She knew that the immaculately tailored suit hid the body of an Adonis. Max worked out in the gym either with trainers, his military leaders, usually Sam Montrose who was the Minister of Defense and an expert at martial arts, or by himself each morning for two hours and his body was packed with muscles. The shoulders of his suit were not padded by his tailor. In fact, his tailor probably had trouble finding enough cloth to cover those broad shoulders. Tara’s eyes continued to travel up his face, admiring his square jaw and firm lips that could quote the most beautiful poetry or slice a man to shreds in a meeting if Max didn’t think the project or information had been up to his exacting standards. Tara never wanted to be on the receiving side of one of those tongue lashings. She liked her skin on her body, not shredded. Her eyes moved higher, noting the long lashes she had always been jealous of. No man had the right to keep those lashes, she thought. They belonged on a girl. She realized too late that he was staring at her and quickly looked down at her computer, her cheeks warming under his gaze. “What did your father want to discuss with you?” she asked quickly, busily straightening her already perfectly neat desk. “My sex life,” Max teased, wanting to see her cheeks turn red again. He was curious about her long perusal and her reaction to him. Interesting! It worked. Her eyes widened and her face turned even redder. “I’m sorry?” she choked. He grinned at her flustered response. “Well, more specifically, my lack of an heir but they all go together, in my mind at least.” “Ah,” she whispered, trying to banish the images his words produced in her head. Tara knew he would have the most beautiful children. How could he not? He was definitely the most handsome man she’d ever met in her life. “And did you explain how actively you’re working on that project?” “No. I can’t lie to my father.” Tara didn’t understand. “I thought you had a good time with Ms. Michaels last week. She seemed very nice.” Max shrugged his extremely large shoulders in indifference. “She was nice enough. But not really my type.” Tara raised her eyebrows at his response. “I thought your type was female,” she laughed. “What was Ms. Michaels lacking?” “Personality.” “She wasn’t nice?” “Oh, she was very nice. Pathetically nice.” “Pathetically nice? Is that possible?” “Yes. I’d like my wife to have a spine and opinions of her own. I have my own, she won’t need to adopt them to make me happy.” Tara sat down in her chair and pulled it closer to her computer, still chuckling at his answer. “Hmm…publish that in the paper and you’re likely to get a riot outside the palace,” she laughed. “I’m sure my mother would pick several women out of the crowd and bring them in for a date with me,” he grimaced. “I’m sure she would.” They were interrupted by the phone ringing. Tara picked it up and answered it professionally. After only a moment, she nodded and then hung up the phone. “You’re lunch meeting is waiting for you in the dining room.” Max sighed and pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against. Just once, he wished she’d slam down the phone after telling the caller that he was unavailable. But then, he also wanted to kiss her until she couldn’t answer the phone coherently. Since he didn’t dare do that for fear of offending her and risk losing her, he simply nodded. “I’ll be there shortly,” he said. “Have fun,” she called out to his retreating back. “Who is it with?” he asked. She glanced down at her computer screen, still showing his calendar. “The Director of Security, Mike Daniels. You’re discussing security and environmental concerns over the proposed coastal highway.” Max eyed her sharply. “You set this up, didn’t you?” he asked, knowing she had a soft spot for endangered species and pristine beaches. Tara shook her head, but couldn’t hide her grin. “No, but I didn’t turn him down when he called to request the appointment,” she said cheekily. “At least it is over lunch and I made sure it was your favorite today,” she called. Max raised his eyebrows hopefully. “Steak and a beer?” “Liver and onions,” she called out as he stepped out of the office. Max poked his head back in at her words, “You’re kidding, right?” he asked, genuinely worried. “Would I tease you?” she asked, her face serious. “I thought you loved liver and onions.” Max watched her for another long moment, not sure if she was kidding. He hated liver and onions but he’d have to eat it if that was being served. He couldn’t offend his guests by not eating whatever was placed in front of him. He left, considering the idea of stopping in the kitchen to make sure it wasn’t liver and onions but several people caught him along the way and he was running late. Max didn’t want to keep the director waiting. Max let out a breath of anticipation when the lunch was served. Seafood salad and rice pilaf allowed him to concentrate on the minister’s words. But only to a point. He was slowly concocting ways to get back at his saucy secretary as soon as he got back to the office. He’d make her sit through the union meetings, he decided. That would be punishment enough for anyone, he smiled. The security minister must have thought Max was agreeing with him because he launched into a more detailed discussion on other issues and Max groaned inwardly. Oh, yes. Tara was definitely going to pay for this one. The meal finally ended and Max excused himself and headed back to his office. Upon entering, he saw Tara’s hands hesitate on the keys before she continued to type. He walked up to her desk and leaned down so he was looking into her eyes. “You’re going to pay for that one. You understand that, don’t you?” Tara’s eyes widened in feigned innocence but when his stern expression didn’t alter, she burst into laughter. Max shook his head, trying to keep from laughing himself. “I don’t think you have the proper respect for my title, Ms. Jacobs,” he said, continuing with his stern expression. “I have the perfect remedy for that though.” Tara finally gained control of her laughter, but just barely. “Oh, I’m sorry, Your Highness. And you’re wrong. I have just enough respect for you and your title. And I’m willing to prove it,” she said, standing up and bowing carefully. Max stood up, crossing his arms over his chest and watched her mock him. He also received a delightful glimpse of the upper curves of her breasts when she bowed low and her silk shirt fluttered open slightly. “A female curtsies,” he explained and rolled his eyes. “A man bows. So again, how are you going to prove your respect?” Tara sat back down in her chair and shook her head. “Sorry, no curtsies. I’m not that coordinated. What would satisfy you?” she asked and looked up at him, her eyes twinkling with merriment. Several ideas came to mind on how she could satisfy him but none were appropriate at the moment. He cleared his throat and focused on his previous idea for punishment. “You’re going to sit through these afternoon meetings with me. And you’ll take notes and keep these men in line. They’d never get rowdy when a lady is present.” Tara was shaking her head at his first mention of the interminably long meetings with the union representatives. “Oh, Your Highness, please. Not those meetings. They are scheduled for the rest of the afternoon!” Max just shook his head, showing he wasn’t going to relent this time. “Sorry, you’re punishment,” he said and walked away. He didn’t mention that he would enjoy staring at her legs for the afternoon, which would help him get through the boring and probably hostile meetings. The thought perked him up instantly. The phone rang and their small period of levity was over for the rest of the day. It was usually extremely busy in his office but Max trusted that all the important information was filtering up to him. Tara had a wonderful way of controlling the chaos and managing the problems so only the most important issues reached his desk. She was usually able to resolve most issues before they became a problem and he loved that about her. Her predecessor would bring everything to him and Max sometimes became frustrated trying to delegate issues to others. Max left the meeting with the union representatives and headed straight into the negotiations with the mechanics. He realized a little too late that it might have been an error to have Tara sit in on the meetings all afternoon. His gaze kept straying to her long legs that were crossed demurely as she sat in the chair next to him. Each time she moved, his focus was distracted from the discussions to her legs and he had to force himself to concentrate on the conversation again. He was sure he missed several pertinent topics during those periods. Tara stepped out at one point and came back with a tray of cookies and tea for everyone. It was right at the moment when the tension was rising between the mechanics and the owners. The break helped enormously and Max again appreciated how she had an innate knack for knowing when things were becoming unproductive and reading people correctly. The rest of the meeting went off without a hitch and Max attributed that to the tea break where people got up, stretched and had informal discussions with each other. They were all able to settle back down and figure out a solution to several complaints between the two groups. It was seven o’clock when Max finally sat back in his office chair. He noticed that Tara was no longer at her desk but her computer and light were still on. Max knew he should get moving to his rooms. He had some event he had to attend but he wasn’t sure what it was. He got up and moved out to her office, looking around. He clicked a few keys and pulled up his schedule. He wasn’t thrilled. It was a charity ball for some organization he’d never heard of. And he definitely wasn’t looking forward to meeting Lady Cecile, whoever she was. The click of Tara’s shoes behind him let him know that she was approaching and he moved out of her way. As soon as he took in her appearance, his mouth almost dropped open. Tara, his Tara who never dated, who always dressed in the most business-like suits possible, was dressed in a simple but elegant black, crepe cocktail dress that hugged her slender figure, making his mind whirl. Her hair was no longer neatly pinned to her neck but was flowing down her back, ending at her waist in soft, lustrous curls. “What’s going on?” he asked, instantly furious about her dress. He had known she was slender and built, but he’d had no idea she had such a traffic stoppingly incredible figure. She was voluptuous on top but with slender hips and long legs peeking out of a demure side slit on her dress. “I have a date,” Tara said, not meeting his eyes as she squeezed around him to turn off her computer. “And you have a ball to get ready for,” she reminded him. “You have a date? Since when?” Max asked, extremely bothered by this fact. “Since last week.” “Who is he?” Max demanded, not liking the idea of any other man touching her. He knew he couldn’t but he’d never even considered the possibility of another man doing what he constantly thought of doing. “A friend of a friend,” she explained casually. His lips formed a thin line at her lack of an answer. “You’re going on a blind date? Isn’t that rather dangerous?” Tara laughed nervously. “You’re questioning me about danger? The man who pushes the limits on danger almost daily?” “I’m serious, Tara. Why are you going on a blind date?” he asked, stepping quickly out of her way as she reached down for her purse, but he got a whiff of her perfume and it just made him angrier. He didn’t like the idea of another man seeing her like this. He wanted to spend the evening with her, smell her perfume and run his fingers through her silky hair. Max clenched his jaw shut before he said something along those lines out loud. Tara became annoyed with his double standard. The whole point of her date was to get over her infatuation with him and now he was getting angry with her? “Why don’t you enjoy your date tonight, and I’ll enjoy mine,” she snapped, not the slightest bit intimidated by his angry posturing. “Then we can exchange notes tomorrow? I really need to hurry now. I’m running a little late.” She pressed a few keys on her computer to finish shutting it down for the night, then slung her purse over her shoulder. He watched her walk away on her sexy heels and wanted to pull her back. “Wait a minute, Tara,” he called out to her retreating back. “Who is this guy? Do you even know him? Have you spoken to him? Do you know anything about him? What does he do for a living?” Tara didn’t answer his questions as she walked to the doorway. “Your Highness, you’re not my father. I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early. I believe Lady Margaret, your date tonight, is a lovely blond. You like blonds,” she said and turned the corner in the office leaving Max still staring at the empty space. About The Attracelli Family Series This was probably my most challenging series, simply because there are so many siblings.  And to start out Never Dare A Tycoon with the oldest sister's death was a bit scary.  I wasn't sure if readers would connect when I started off with a tragedy.  But I went ahead and rolled with the idea.  These were also the first stories I submitted to the “traditional” publishing houses.   Needless to say, they were rejected.   And also needless to say, I'm eternally grateful that they were.  I now retain rights to all of these stories and I love reading them myself every once in a while.  Never Dare A Tycoon:  Antonia Attracelli.  She's the youngest and only living female of the clan (Sylvia dies at the beginning of this book and she's the oldest of all of them).  Being the baby in a family of strong, arrogant Italian men was difficult but Antonia rebels against their rules and finds her own life.  Falling For The Boss:  Thomas Attracelli.  Thomas is serious and generally more quiet than the other siblings, but still waters run deep.   He is also the financial person - analytical, moral, strong and fighting against Victoria's allure.  Risky Negotiations:  Salvatore Attracelli.  Sal is the oldest and the bossiest.  He's always serious because he has so much responsibility but he wears the burden easily.  Laci causes him to change his focus from the corporate world to a whole different kind of acquisition. Proposal to Love:  Michael Attracelli.  Michael is the dare devil of the group.  He's fun-loving and won't let Darcy hide behind her career any longer and he won't let her hide from him either.  Love's Not Terrifying:  Gus Attracelli.  Gus is the opposite of brooding.  He's gregarious and laughs a lot - and wants to find the woman with the scent.  He wants to propose to Alana - a woman he hasn't even seen - simply because of her rose scented perfume.  Romantic Acquisition:   Carlo Attracelli.   Carlo is ultra serious, ultra conservative and doesn't speak very much.  As the youngest male in a household of dominant, overbearing men, he had to learn to protect himself by observing.  He does that a lot of the time in his story. Because I wanted him to be the quiet type, I knew I had to give him a slightly outrageous woman.  As in many cases, I chose the name Kate because it's such an ordinary name - but there is nothing ordinary about Kate.  She shocks and surprises Carlo, constantly throwing him off balance.  (Well, she throws herself off balance.)  As quiet as Carlo tends to be, Kate keeps saying her thoughts out loud, shocking even herself. Never Dare A Tycoon Prologue The storm raged outside, rain pelting the long windows of the large family room making the usually cozy atmosphere cold and ominous. Occasionally, the wind whipped around the corner of the house and the eerie howl could be heard inside. The crackling fire, bright lights and most of her family working at various tasks around the room didn’t seem to diminish the feeling of doom Antonia was experiencing. Glancing around the large room, she tried to pinpoint the problem. But nothing seemed unusual. Everyone was in his or her customary place. Her mother was sitting at the end of the sofa cross-stitching; her four older brothers were either at the dining room table doing their own homework or were lounging in a chair reading. Antonia’s father saw her taking in the scene and winked at her from behind his newspaper, his cigar smoke curling around the room, adding a slight cinnamon smell to the surroundings. The only two missing siblings were the oldest children of the Attracelli family. Salvatore, the oldest of the six children was in his second year at Harvard and Sophia, the next oldest, was in her first year at MIT. Both were in Boston, too far away for her mother and father’s comfort, but they were proud of all their children’s accomplishments. Refocusing on her homework, Antonia bit her lower lip in concentration as she tried to figure out the algebra problem for her assignment. It was her first week of fifth grade and Antonia was trying to make a good impression with her new teachers. She was the only student in her grade that was allowed to take algebra and she was determined to prove she could excel at the task. She dismissed her uneasiness, attributing it to her imagination. The shrill ring of the telephone seemed to make everyone jump. The sound echoed throughout the room and rising above the thunder booming outside the room. For some reason, Antonia wanted to tell her mother not to answer the phone…to ignore the summons. It couldn’t be good, although she had no evidence to back up her premonition. She heard her mother’s cheerful greeting as she spoke to the person at the other end of the line. Antonia immediately sensed her mother’s change in mood before she noticed the tensing of her shoulders. Her brothers were still doing their own homework, oblivious to the altered atmosphere. Antonia instinctively knew that her mother was in pain but she didn’t understand why because silence prevailed. She kept searching the faces of the rest of the family, trying to decide if her instincts about her mother were ridiculous. Antonia stood as the phone fell out of her mother’s hand, landing with a foreboding thud onto the floor. She watched as her mother’s shoulders began shaking. Her mother’s hands went to cover her ears as if she could stop the agonizing information from coming. As Antonia watched, her mother bent over the table and an anguished wail tore out of her soul. It was as if her life were being pulled from her body. The sound was the most horrific in Antonia’s young life. Instantly, Antonia’s father threw down his paper and came over to his wife, holding her up as she melted into the security of his arms, sobbing out her pain and anguish but unable to tell him what was wrong. Carlos came over and picked up the phone, attempting to ascertain the situation while their father tried to comfort their mother. “Hello?” Carlos said, his voice just recently changing to the deeper tones of adulthood. Apparently the person assumed it was the father and repeated the information. Antonia’s fear intensified as she watched Carlos’ face turn white. But he nodded his head, then calmly put the phone back on its receiver. When he turned around again, the tears were already rolling down his cheeks. He cleared his throat and put one hand on the back of his still sobbing mother, communicating his understanding of her pain. “Sophia…” he started, only to stop and push back the emotion, “Sophia died,” he explained. “She and a friend walked by a convenience store as a burglar was trying to get away. It was late last night. Sophia died on the way to the hospital.” Chapter 1 Fifteen Years Later Out in the street, traffic was heavy with the afternoon lunch crowd moving either to their favorite meal spot or from it. Either way, Brett Hancock was impatient with the lunch hour traffic. Being only a few minutes late for his lunch appointment meant that he’d missed the window of lighter traffic. Punctuality was an asset, he thought to himself as he negotiated his BMW into traffic. He was about to turn off the main street and head down a side one in order to cut a few minutes off his time when a speeding motorcycle zoomed by him, nearly hitting his black BMW in the process. “What the…?” Brett slammed on his brakes and cursed under his breath. All he saw was a stream of black curly hair flying out behind a woman on a red motorcycle. It wasn’t following the traffic patterns but was driving beside all the cars waiting for the light to turn so they could move forward. It was illegal to drive beside cars like that, outside of a lane and practically on the sidewalk. But someone hadn’t mentioned that fact to the driver, Brett thought irritably. All he caught was the hair that escaped from the helmet as it lifted in the breeze. The rest of her was a blur and she turned the corner at the next intersection so he couldn’t get a license plate number. Brett made it to the restaurant with a few minutes to spare. He handed his keys to the valet and walked inside, nodding slightly to the doorman. Inside, he was led directly to his table. He didn’t even glance around the elegant room decorated with white linen tablecloths, pink rose centerpieces or the crystal chandeliers which reflected the sunlight streaming into the room from the Palladian windows. The starkness of the room was offset only by thick, subtle floral carpeting and the extremely large bouquet of pink and white flowers in the center of the room that matched the pattern in the carpeting. Salvatore Attracelli and one of the vice presidents Brett had met the night before were already seated at the table discussing some papers when Brett sat down. Sal immediately stood up when he saw Brett. “How are you today?” Brett said, shaking both men’s hands. “Recovered from Cesar’s?” he inquired, cursing himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Their gorgeous waitress from the exclusive bar where they’d initially discussed a business deal the night before was on his mind almost constantly this morning. It occurred to him that the waitress from the previous evening and the woman on the motorcycle both had similar hair and comparable …well…posteriors. Sal and Scott laughed. “Not really. I think I had too much to drink, but I guess that’s the whole point of the place, isn’t it?” Scott said. Sal looked at his watch when they were all seated again. “I’m sorry, but I invited my sister to join us. I haven’t seen her in a while and was hoping she and I could spend some time together after lunch. But she’s late, as usual,” he said, trying to hide his annoyance. Scott immediately perked up. “Antonia’s joining us?” he asked. Sal noticed Scott’s eagerness and frowned slightly. He didn’t know what happened on their date years ago, but Antonia had refused to meet three other men Sal had tried to introduce her to afterwards. That couldn’t be a good sign. No matter how Antonia felt about a person, she always gave them a chance. But after one dinner with Scott, all of Sal’s subsequent matchmaking attempts had been immediately shot down. Brett looked at his watch. He had several meetings this afternoon that couldn’t be rescheduled. He didn’t know Sal’s sister, but surely she’d arrive when she got here. Delaying their lunch meeting until she appeared was a waste of everyone’s time. “Well, until she gets here, why don’t you tell me what you thought of the numbers floating around last night? Now that we’ve had some time to think about it, I’d like to get your ideas,” he said, starting the meeting without Sal’s sister. Sal took the hint and they launched into a discussion about revising the numbers, tossed around the idea of different loan types as well as other financing options. Chapter 2 Oblivious to the three men’s dismissal of her, Antonia drove by the restaurant, not stopping to let the valet park her motorcycle. Instead, she turned the corner at the next block and parked it along the street. Glancing up and down the street, she checked to make sure no one would see her, then she unsnapped the helmet and pulled it off, shaking her hair loose as she went. Hopping off the bike, she took off her backpack and exchanged some of its contents. She took out the pink wool skirt and matching jacket and replaced them with her leather jacket – rolled up so that it fit back inside her backpack. She pulled the skirt up over her jeans, pulled the jeans down, and smoothed her cream colored stockings, making sure she wasn’t revealing anything in the process. That done, she rolled the jeans up and stuffed them into the backpack as well, taking out a slim black purse with a gold chain and pretty, pink pumps to replace her more practical cowboy boots. The pink pumps were not her normal style. But then, neither was the whole outfit, so she endured the prissy suit and classic shoes, knowing her eldest brother would approve of the ensemble. The transformation done, she stood up and smoothed everything into place, checking the street again. This was one of Sal’s favorite restaurants in the city, so she’d been here several times, changing in the same manner each time. So far, luck had been on her side and she hadn’t been caught by anyone, including her oldest, very conservative and straight-laced brother who would never approve of the way she lived her life. But it was her life and she would not be dictated to by any of her five older brothers who would only be satisfied when she was safely married. Coming from an extremely traditional, Italian-American family had some good and some bad. Her older brothers’ protectiveness was part of the bad she’d learned to deal with over the years. Taking a deep breath, Antonia walked gracefully to the front of the restaurant, winking at Jim, the doorman, and handing him a small box of white chocolates. Jim shook his head, smiling, but accepted the chocolates, his mouth watering as he anticipated sneaking one into his mouth at the first opportunity. “You’d best hurry, Miss Attracelli. They’re already in there.” “Uh, oh,” she said, and grimaced, knowing how much Sal valued punctuality. Cringing, she glanced at her watch. She didn’t mention that she was late because she’d stopped at the tiny bakery that specialized in his favorite chocolates. “I guess I’m pretty late, aren’t I?” she said. “Don’t eat all those chocolates before I leave here, understand?” she said, knowing they’d be almost gone by the time she walked out. “Don’t worry,” Jim said, grinning like a schoolboy. “I made the mistake of telling my wife about them last time and she just about knocked my head off because I hadn’t saved her any. I learned my lesson. At least one is coming home with me tonight,” he laughed. Antonia laughed as well. His wife was a tiny woman that barely reached Jim’s shoulder. But she had him right where she wanted him. And Jim was exactly where he wanted to be, so it wasn’t a problem. At the maitre d’s station, Antonia smiled to Jeffrey. “Is Sal here already Jeffrey?” she asked, hoping against hope that Jim might be wrong. Just once, she’d like to be the first to arrive so she wouldn’t have to see her brother’s look of disapproval when she walked up to the table. Sal was the only one who could make her feel self-conscious. Her other brothers were too fun loving to worry about little things like time and punctuality. Most of the time, anyway. Jeffrey nodded his head. “Your brother’s been here for twenty minutes although Mr. Hancock only arrived at one o’clock.” Antonia’s face showed the shock and anger she felt at discovering that her brother had arranged a lunch meeting with her, but it was in the guise of a setup. “He promised me just this morning that it wasn’t a set-up. He lied to me,” she said, furious. Jeffrey sympathized with her. He’d seen her lunches with several of the men her brothers had arranged for her. He also knew that none had reached her in any way other than as nice companions for a meal occasionally. Exasperated, she looked at her appearance in her small compact mirror. “Well, since I’m already late, I guess I should go tidy up a bit. You know how Sal is about appearances.” Jeffrey nodded his head and put the menu back in its holder. “I’ll see you when you’re finished.” Antonia smiled gratefully before turning and heading into the ladies room. She pulled a comb through her black, curly hair that refused to be tamed, then added more lipstick and a touch of powder to her nose. Satisfied that she’d done all she could, she marched out of the bathroom, then followed Jeffrey as he led her to the best table in the restaurant. Sure enough, Sal’s face was full of disapproval when she walked up to the table at ten minutes after one o’clock. Antonia accepted the menu from Jeffrey, winking at him when Sal looked away. She knew her suit was perfect for Sal’s taste. It was a pink Channel suit given to her by Carlo last year, her older brother by two years. The skirt was the right length, not too high above her knees, yet not snobbishly demure either. The triple strand of pearls at her neck was a nice accent, as were the small pearls at her ears. Antonia could tell that from Sal’s expression that, although she was tardy, her appearance was acceptable. She hated this outfit. It was the perfect dress, the perfect accessories, and the perfect shoes. It wasn’t her at all. But since they were gifts from her brothers, and because they all thought she looked nice in them, she wore them whenever she was around them. Nice meant that she looked like a good, Italian girl was supposed to look. She wore the clothes they gave her in order to keep peace in the family and because she knew that her brothers cared for her. If making them happy meant showing up for a meal in clothes they approved of, she didn’t have a problem with that. “I’m sorry to interrupt all of you,” she said to the three men taking their seats again. “Please continue,” she said, picking up her menu as she looked at each of the three men. Her eyes immediately snapped back to the man opposite her. He was absolutely gorgeous! An electric jolt shot through her system when she felt his eyes on her. She tried looking at the menu, out the window, or anywhere else as the men discussed some business deal they were currently working on. But her eyes were captured by the darkest, most devilishly brown eyes she’d ever seen in her life. And they were owned by a man with broad shoulders, dark blond hair, and a simply spectacular physique. Well, what she could see of it anyway. She could tell that the suit he wore didn’t have padding in the shoulders. And the white cotton shirt couldn’t hide the muscles that rippled on his stomach as he resumed his seat. It was a shock but this man more than rivaled Sal in looks! Normally, when Sal was in a room, women fought to get his attention, but not this time, Antonia thought distractedly. This man could definitely compete with her oldest brother! Whoever this new guy was, he was currently staring at her as if she’d said or done something extremely funny. Did she have something on her face? A smudge perhaps? No, Jeffrey would have said something to her before bringing her over. What then? After a moment, she looked down at the menu and tried to concentrate. Who was this man sitting across from her? She tried to relax, but she knew he was still staring at her even though the other two men were deciding on what to have for lunch. When the waiter arrived to take their order, she requested a chef’s salad, despite the fact that she really craved a big, juicy burger. The menus were taken away and Antonia was forced to sit through the lunch while the three men discussed business. Sitting quietly, she bit her tongue when Sal mentioned a financing option for a project in Florida. She’d just read in the paper this morning about proposed changes to Florida’s finance laws that would add points to the proposal and make it more costly than other options. Antonia refused to look at the man sitting across from her. She knew every time his eyes settled on her because her body temperature rose several degrees. She couldn’t meet his gaze though. She prayed that her face wasn’t betraying her emotions. For some reason, this man scared her more than Sal ever had. It was as if he had some sort of control over her soul and the tingling she felt made her want to wiggle in her damask covered chair. Antonia continued to keep her mouth shut during the interminably long lunch. It was almost three thirty when the man across from her, she forgot his name because she was too busy looking at him during the introductions, and Scott stood up. Sal also stood, but explained that he was staying to talk with his sister for a while. The stranger turned to Antonia and picked up her hand, taking it to his lips in an old-fashioned kiss. “I’m thrilled we were able to meet this afternoon. It was a pleasure,” he said, his deep voice gliding along her skin, making her nerves tingle and her heartbeat accelerate. Scott, clearing his throat, only shook Antonia’s hand and said a simple goodbye. As he left, the look on his face clearly showed his irritation. Antonia sat back down once the two men left. Her skin was still burning from the man’s touch. It was ridiculous, but she couldn’t deny it. She avoided her brother’s eyes when he resumed his seat, knowing he wasn’t happy with her but why that was the case, she couldn’t figure out. “You look beautiful, Antonia,” Sal said to start the conversation. “Thank you,” she replied softly, smiling brightly. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe he just wanted to catch up. Although she was at his house each Sunday after church, there were usually so many people there, it was hard to sit down and talk with one person. “How have you been lately? I haven’t really talked to you in a while,” he said, leaning forward on the white linen tablecloth, pyramiding his hands. “I’ve been fine. How about you?” she asked, starting to relax slightly. Could she dare suspect that Sal might be treating her like an adult instead of a recalcitrant child? Might she even be so brave as to voice her opinion on some of the topics discussed over lunch? “I’ve been worried about you. Are you eating well?” Antonia’s smile faltered slightly. So much for being treated as an adult. “No, I eat only candy. It sometimes sticks in my braces,” she teased, “but that doesn’t matter. With modern technology, they can pull it out when I go to the orthodontist,” she began, then sensed Sal’s frustration. Shaking her head, she said, “Yes, I’ve been eating well, I guess. I don’t really know because I generally buy the same groceries each week. But they’re mostly fruit and vegetables,” she said, giving in and easing his concern. He was only showing his love for her, even if it was overbearing and patronizing sometimes. She decided to have a heart to heart talk with her older brother. “Sal, will there ever be a time when you might treat me as a responsible adult? I can take care of myself. You don’t need to worry about me,” she explained, hoping he might listen this time. “How is your apartment?” he asked, ignoring her comment about his treatment of her. “Are you still comfortable in the two bedroom unit?” Antonia bit her lip. This was dangerous territory. She quickly glanced at his eyes, trying to gauge his question. Did he know something? But his face was relaxed. Antonia suspected he was trapping her, but that could just be her paranoia. When one lived a lie, it seemed that even the most innocent questions were an interrogation. “It’s fine,” she said. “No floods, no robberies,” she joked. “Why won’t you invite anyone there?” he asked. Antonia looked anywhere but at Sal, not sure she could hold her tongue with her frustration over his inability to treat her as anything other than his little sister. “My apartment burned down so I’m living in a homeless shelter. This was the only outfit I was able to salvage. And you know why I don’t invite anyone there.” “Tell me again,” he said, clenching his jaw in frustration. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked over at the window, not even noticing the beautiful sky and the fluffy clouds. “Because if I invite one, everyone will show up. And it isn’t big enough. So why bother?” she said, resigning herself to the conversation. She couldn’t begrudge him his worries. He was head of the family now and he only had one role model to work off of. And her father had been much worse. Instead of inviting her to a nice restaurant, her father would order her to dinner in their house, then yell and scream until they were both furious with each other. Eventually, Antonia would give in, concerned about his health and loving him too much to cause him worry. It was the same with Sal although without the yelling and screaming. Sal was controlled and direct, which could actually be more terrifying. He had so much responsibility. He didn’t need an irritating little sister. So she relented. Putting a hand on his arm, she said, “I’m eating well. Thank you for your concern. Thanks to grandmother and grandfather, I don’t have to worry about anything like starving,” she reassured him softly. It wasn’t a completely inaccurate statement. She had an extremely large trust fund at her disposal from her grandparents. Antonia just preferred to live on her own terms instead of theirs and didn’t use their money to fund her lifestyle. Sal sighed and shook his head. “I want you to move back into the house. It’s only me now so you won’t have mom and dad looking over your shoulder, which is what I suspect you didn’t like, not all the reasons you gave us at the time.” Antonia panicked. “Why? I don’t want to move back into the house. My reasons back then were relevant then as well as now.” Trying to calm down because she knew she could argue more effectively when she wasn’t emotional, she said, “I’m not moving back into the house with you, Sal,” she said, taking a deep breath. Coming right to the real issue, she said, “I’m not Sophia. It won’t happen to me.” A flash of pain streaked across his face, but he didn’t respond to her reference to their oldest sister. “I think you should consider it,” he said softly, then pulled out a piece of paper from his inside, suit pocket. “You aren’t using the money grandmother and grandfather left to you. So please explain how you are paying the rent and buying food. Where are you working?” he demanded, his anger and disappointment evident in his face. Antonia took the piece of paper with shaky fingers. But she already knew what it would show. Slowly unfolding it, she read the first line. Sure enough, it was a letter from the bank asking what Sal wanted them to do with all the interest the account was earning. The bank manager had tried to contact Antonia, but she hadn’t responded. So, as the executor of their parents’ will and their grandparents’ trust, Sal was being asked to make a decision. Antonia looked up at Sal, licking her suddenly dry lips. “I can explain,” she said, hiding her shaking hands in her lap. But they wouldn’t stay still. Falling For The Boss Note: This book is only available (free!) to those who register on www.ElizabethLennox.com! The air conditioner whirred quietly but it didn’t ease the tension in the room or cool off Victoria Anderson’s tense nerves. She was terrified and hoped the dragon woman sitting in front of her didn’t see her anxiety. The dragon lady continued, “You understand that this is a one year commitment, correct?” She was actually the head of human relations, Margie Peterman, but she seemed extremely protective of her boss’s schedule and requirements. “Mr. Attracelli is very firm about the commitment, to the point of requiring a contract stating that you will remain on the team for one full year. Despite the numerous tests and interviews, we’ve had a run of bad luck with recent personnel leaving before the year is over. It puts his team in a difficult position and they aren’t able to meet their tight deadlines.” Victoria’s hands clenched together in nervousness. “I understand,” she said in a voice she hoped sounded confident. A wisp of honey blond hair floated down the side of her face, having escaped the tight chignon she’d put it in this morning. She casually pushed it back off her face, not even aware of the action as Margie looked down through Victoria’s resume and test scores again, looking for something else to question Victoria about. The chair Victoria was sitting on should have been comfortable, but because she was so nervous, the Chippendale chair and highly polished conference table seemed too forbidding to allow any possible comfort. She perched herself on the edge of the chair with her back ramrod straight and her hands neatly folded on her lap, not able to relax even slightly. Victoria surreptitiously wiped her hands on her black, wool suit skirt, hoping the interviewer didn’t notice her slight hesitation. She wasn’t afraid of the long hours, the travel or the demanding boss. She already had that without the excitement of visiting different cities and foreign countries which this job offered. There was nothing holding her in Washington, D.C. any longer now that Laci, her younger sister, would graduate from law school in a few months. This would be Victoria’s last fling before settling down and marrying Barry Lawson, the man she had been dating for over a year now. Once she’d “sowed her wild oats” as she was now thinking of this job opportunity, she’d feel comfortable settling down and raising children with her husband and knowing that she wasn’t missing out on anything. “And you understand the demands of the job? The travel needs, the long hours?” Margie asked, her sharp, grey eyes watching Victoria’s expression over the edge of her bifocal glasses. “Yes, I understand,” Victoria repeated, nodding her head for emphasis. “I’m eager to see different parts of the country,” Victoria explained, leaning forward slightly. The traveling part of the job was what had caught her interest immediately. “I’ve lived in the Washington, D.C. area almost my entire life. But as much as I like this area, I love traveling even more.” Margie looked over the serene young woman sitting primly in front of her. The strikingly lovely woman was petite with beautiful blond hair pulled back at the nape of her neck and soft, green eyes. The black suit and crisp, white silk shirt she wore was professional looking but in no way enhanced her feminine shape. Margie considered that a good sign since the days would be long and hard. There was no time for primping and high maintenance females. It was a good thing that this candidate had a long term boyfriend. Margie had seen enough females throwing themselves at her boss, Thomas Attracelli. He didn’t need someone on his personal staff getting romantic ideas. That would throw the whole team into a mass of inefficiency and chaos. The only doubt Margie had about Victoria Anderson was the woman’s timidity. She definitely had the skills and the experience for the job. Margie sat up a little straighter. She had considered all the applicants and the woman sitting in front of her had the best resume and interviewed extremely well. What’s more, from several tests, phone conversations and interviews over the past two weeks, Margie suspected her personality would fit in with the team easily, although her nervousness right now belied that impression. Chalking that up to interview jitters, Margie decided to go with her gut instincts and recommend hiring Victoria over the other five candidates interviewed so far. Mentally nodding her head, she moved on. “I know this is your fourth interview but this really is the final one. You’ll be meeting Thomas Attracelli, the lead on the team, who will make the final decision.” Margie looked at her watch and frowned. explained. “He should be here any minute,” she Victoria desperately wanted this position more than any of the others she had interviewed for over the past two months. But more desperately, she wanted out of her current situation. Victoria already had three job offers but was waiting to find out if she would be hired for this one, the most interesting and challenging from what she had learned so far. Victoria tried to hide her sense of excitement but the idea of traveling to so many cities and countries, working on so many different projects had drawn her out of her job inertia initially. Over the past year, Victoria routinely reviewed the classified section of the newspaper, searching for job opportunities that seemed interesting. She’d seen the job offer for this position in the paper and had thought it was too good to be true. “Who else is on his staff?” Victoria asked, eager to learn more about the job, praying that she would be selected over the other candidates. Margie smiled, glad to have something to talk about while they waited for her delinquent boss to arrive. He had been scheduled to meet with this applicant fifteen minutes ago but he had yet to show up or call to let Margie know when, or even if, he would arrive. Leaning back in her chair, Margie set her pen down on her yellow notepad and relaxed for the next few moments. “Mr. Atracelli travels with two other staff members. Mike is the operations manager and there’s also Bob, who is a human relations developer.” “What is a human relations developer?” Victoria asked, not wanting to appear ignorant, but curious about the title. Margie laughed slightly, appreciating the woman’s twinkling eyes showing her sense of humor. “It sounds like a made up, politically correct title, doesn’t it? I can assure you that ‘human relations developer’ is a perfect description of what this man can do. Bob goes into the ATI offices and assesses the morale of the place. He has a knack for building up the spirits of a group and creating a sense of unity. He works with the supervisors and mentors them on ways to increase or improve morale. He believes, and has shown, that an energetic and team oriented office staff produces much higher results statistically than a segregated and, what some offices consider, normal environment. I’ve seen him work and it’s a pretty great talent. But then, Mr. Attracelli only hires extremely talented people, like you,” Margie smiled conspiratorially. Victoria returned the smile and was grateful for the vote of confidence. She looked at her watch again. “I think I might need to reschedule the interview with Mr. Attracelli. I really need to get back to work,” she said, about to rise. “I’m sorry, I only have one hour for lunch and my current boss is very particular.” She and Margie had been waiting for almost fifteen minutes for the illustrious Thomas Attracelli to arrive for the interview and Victoria would be late getting back to her job if things didn’t start moving soon. Victoria was only able to take an hour for lunch, and that hour was almost over. She didn’t want to be fired if she wasn’t going to get this job so she was extremely nervous about the time. Margie leaned forward in her seat again. She didn’t want to lose this candidate just because Thomas was being inconsiderate of her time. “If you’ll give Thomas just a few more minutes, I’m sure he’ll be along soon,” Margie said. Victoria understood Margie was trying to finalize the interviews. She looked at her watch again and decided to wait five more minutes before leaving. Depending on how long the interview with this mysterious Mr. Attracelli took, she hoped that would still give her time to grab a sandwich at the deli in her building on the way back to her office. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Victoria’s neck stood up, and she was instantly alert for some reason. The air seemed to crackle an instant before the door to the lobby swung open. She could only see his tall frame, broad shoulders and his black hair but Victoria knew this was the sexiest and most dynamic man she had ever laid eyes on. It was as if a hurricane had just come through the room, then disappeared behind a set of double doors. Once the storm was over, Victoria looked around her and was a little shocked that the room was still as orderly as it had been a moment before the man had entered, then just as quickly left. Victoria suspected that Margie felt the same way in so far as the hurricane was concerned because her eyes just stared at the partially opened doors as if a bull had just gone through them. Turning back to Victoria, Margie raised her eyebrows, obviously astounded by what had just happened. Shaking her head, Margie picked up Victoria’s file and stood up. “I’ll be right back,” Margie said and crossed the room to disappear behind the doors. She didn’t close them all the way so Victoria was able to hear their conversation. “Thomas, you’re late. You were supposed to be here for an interview over a half hour ago.” A deep voice replied a moment later. “I’m sorry, something came up.” “Well, I really think you should meet this…” Margie started, only to be cut off mid sentence. “I know,” the deep voice came back, followed by a long sigh. “Listen, I’m late for another meeting. Is this person any good? Can he or she step in and take over the gaping hole in my staff? I’m not really in the mood to talk to a ‘maybe’ candidate.” “Take a look at these credentials,” Margie said and Victoria pictured in her head Margie handing the tall man her resume. There was a long period of silence, then the voice came back. “This looks fine. Send her in.” Margie appeared a moment later and motioned her through the double doors. Victoria stood on shaking legs and followed Margie into the adjoining office. Margie put the rest of Victoria’s file in the middle of a glass topped, mahogany desk, smiled reassuringly at Victoria, then left the room, leaving Victoria staring at the back of the tall man while he read through the rest of her resume. Victoria took the time to look around the room, trying to find something to help her relax, something that might create a common bond with this intimidating man. The office was extremely large and filled with antique furniture. Victoria sat down on the edge of a Louis IV chair and tried to think of something to say that would start off the conversation and let him know that she was interested. But her mind drew a blank each time she looked at his broad shoulders. Staring out the side window, she was impressed with the view of the National Cathedral peeking through the tops of the lushly green trees. A plane passed overhead, but the room was so well insulated, she couldn’t even hear the engines or any of the traffic from the street below, although they were fifteen stories up. Victoria could feel the man’s eyes on her so she looked up and was surprised at how handsome he was. Weren’t men of his caliber old and fat? Or at least bald? There was definitely no fat on this tall man’s frame. She slowly raised her eyes to his and immediately felt as if she had been shocked by an electric current. He had thick, dark brown hair that was almost black and dark blue eyes, firm lips and a straight jaw that seemed to be clenching for some reason. Victoria tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure if she actually made it. She placed her hands in her lap and swallowed, wishing she could stand up and run instead of having to sit here and endure his stare. Why in the world was he angry? she thought. He was the one that had allowed his schedule to get out of whack and put everyone else in a bind, including himself. Finally he spoke. “Where were you born?” he asked abruptly. The question seemed to echo through the previously silent room. Of all the questions he could have asked her that was not one she expected. “I’m sorry?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in polite inquiry, sure she had misunderstood or misheard the question. “Your birthplace. Where was it?” he snapped out. “I was born in Massachusetts,” she replied, surprised at how angry his tone was. “Where in Massachusetts?” “Um…Springfield?” “You’re not sure?” he barked. “I’m sure,” she snapped right back, sitting up straighter in her chair, her chin going up incrementally. He might be gorgeous, but he was a complete jerk so far. No one had the right to be this rude upon a first meeting. Interviews were already filled with stress. Adding to it by rudeness was just obnoxious. Victoria considered standing up and leaving. than an interview. This seemed more like an interrogation “Then why the hesitation?” Victoria started to get mad. Here eyebrows drew together and her eyes flashed. “I’m wondering how this has any relevance on the position under discussion.” Thomas watched the delicate beauty sitting in front of him and cursed to himself. She was right. Her birthplace had no relevance to the issue but he just couldn’t think of anything else to ask. He couldn’t think much of anything. As soon as she’d walked through the door, it felt like someone had punched him in the stomach and he could hardly breathe. She was so damn beautiful! And it was only getting worse now that she was angry. The eyes that had been a mossy green a moment ago were now sparkling emeralds and there was a little bit of color in her cheeks, making the porcelain-like skin glow. He’d always thought the line about a woman becoming more beautiful when she was angry was just a line. Now he knew that it was more, so much more. This woman definitely stirred him with her anger. She was like a china doll, perfectly sitting on the edge of the seat, her skin flawless, her thick, blond hair primly knotted behind her head looked like it would fall through his fingers like a caress. His mind told him to end the interview immediately because there was no way she could join the team. He knew he’d let her interfere with the team’s work. In fact, he wanted to ask her if she’d go out to dinner with him, among other things, instead of finishing the interview but he’d have to find some excuse to not hire her first so he’d better start interviewing her properly. He smiled. “You’re right,” he thought quickly. “I’m sorry. It is March Madness and Duke is down at the halftime in the playoffs so I’m a little frustrated,” Thomas said, referring to the Men’s NCAA championship tournament currently being played out all over the country. “Duke?” She was so amazed at how his smile transformed his face, she couldn’t grasp the message in his words. His smile changed his face from incredibly handsome to devastatingly attractive. “Yes, the basketball team,” he said patronizingly, explaining his favorite team’s sport. He looked back down at her resume, dismissing the topic and trying to come up with another question to put to her so he could end this farce of an interview. “You didn’t bet on them, did you?” she asked, a small smile on her lips. He glanced up from reading and watched her eyes change back again to a soft, green glow. He wasn’t sure if her eyes or her words were more intriguing. Did this delicate beauty follow basketball? It was not possible so he tried to dismiss the idea immediately. But a niggling sensation remained and he had to find out if she knew anything about his favorite sport. Leaning over his desk, he shook his head and explained, “I put twenty dollars into the office pool, with them taking it all home.” Victoria smiled gently. “But why?” Thomas blinked in astonishment. “Why? Because they have a great team.” The pity he recognized in her eyes fascinated him. He chided himself for liking the fact that she was pitying him. What an idea! He saw her shoulders visibly relax. “They used to be a good team until their center broke his finger in the playoffs. Now, they haven’t had the psychological edge the tip off allows them. Besides, they aren’t versatile enough to go all the way this year.” Thomas could only stare and shake his head. How could this graceful beauty disagree with him on basketball? “But I went to Duke,” he replied, as if that made all the difference in their playoff chances. Victoria shook her head in commiseration, her eyes showing her misfortune for his plight. “I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry?” he asked, pushing away from his desk and coming around to the front, hardly noticing the polished surface. Victoria nodded, crossing her hands over her knee, “They need a better center and left guard. I think they have some great players in the queue but you’ll have to wait a few more years for a championship contention.” He smiled, fascinated. “Who are you betting on?” Victoria blushed. “Oh, I never bet. It makes me a little ill. But if I were, I’d go for Gonzaga or Oklahoma State. They have shown definite resiliency over the past few games.” Thomas was getting a whole different impression of the woman now. “So how does my birthplace fit into the position?” she asked. Thomas laughed. “I’m not sure it does anymore,” he said and glanced down at her resume. “You’ve worked for your current company for over four years. Why do you want to change?” Victoria smiled wistfully, looking down at the luxurious carpeting in order to shield her eyes from his too perceptive gaze. “Well, this might be a little silly but being an accountant, I don’t get many opportunities to travel the world. I want to travel and things get a little too hectic to take time off where I am currently.” “Where would you like to go?” Thomas asked softly, putting her resume on the desk behind him and sitting down on the corner, one leg draped over the side to swing below while the other balanced him. He knew he was getting off track again but was fascinated by the woman and found himself wanting to know more about her personally rather than professionally. “Oh, anywhere,” she said, shrugging her shoulders and looking off into the distance as if she could see her dream vacation. “I was born in Massachusetts but I’ve lived here in Washington, D.C. ever since my parents moved us here about twenty five years ago.” “Why not just take a vacation? Why take a job that will have you traveling nine months out of the year.” She nodded her agreement with his point but shrugged her shoulders slightly before answering, “Well, I don’t think anyone really gets to know a place until they live there. And I guess working there would be the next best thing, right? If I only go someplace for a few days, I’ll only see the tourists traps.” Thomas agreed with her. It was one of the reasons he liked his job so much. He didn’t delve into the lifestyle philosophy of her answer though. “You understand we work most of the time. The schedule usually doesn’t allow much time to see the places we’re staying.” Victoria nodded but there wasn’t any sadness or disappointment in the acknowledgement. In fact, she seemed to become more enthusiastic in the topic. Her shoulders leaned forward almost imperceptibly and her hands curled into tiny fists on her lap, revealing her excitement. “I understand. But even an hour off in each place will allow me to see more than I would otherwise. I could just walk outside in Italy and eat a sandwich, watching the sunset. But at least I’d be in Italy. That’s something to tell my grandchildren. Right now, I don’t have many stories,” she said, her eyes turning sad at the idea. After a moment, he realized that she was finished and he was just staring at her lovely face. He scrambled quickly to come up with his next question. “What do you like about accounting?” Victoria shrugged her slim shoulders. “Numbers make sense to me. I like the challenge of finding the story they are telling.” Good answer, Thomas thought. He wasn’t doing a very good job of disqualifying her. “Have you ever found a story you didn’t like?” She laughed and Thomas held his breath at her beautiful smile and warm laughter. When she smiled, her whole face lit up and the sound seemed to soothe something inside his soul he hadn’t known was wrong. “Sure! I’ve had to go into meetings to report losses. But I consider that someone else’s story so I just present the data.” “What’s your story?” he asked suddenly. Victoria was taken aback at the question. She didn’t know how to answer his question. She didn’t want to admit to this dynamic, overwhelmingly gorgeous man that she didn’t really have a story. She’d lived her life quietly without incident and that was part of the problem, part of the allure of this job. She wanted more out of life than what she currently had. “I’m not sure,” she faltered, wondering what the best answer to his question should be. But he interrupted her before she could come up with an intelligent, witty answer. “Never mind,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck. Not an appropriate interviewing question, he reminded himself. Get on the ball and find something to disqualify her. And stop looking at her long, sexy legs! Thomas turned and faced the window. Unfortunately, he could still see her lovely reflection in the glass so that didn’t help. “What would be your top places to visit?” “Paris,” Victoria said immediately and nodded her head for emphasis. “Or Italy – but no specific city. I took French and Italian in college and loved the languages. During history class, I always loved the Roman Empire period. I’d be depressed for weeks after the fall in school.” Thomas threw back his head and laughed at the unexpected answer. “I loved history as well but probably not that much.” “But you didn’t major in it,” she said as if it were a matter of fact. “No.” “Why not?” “Because it didn’t make sense,” he replied, a charming grin on his face as he threw back her previous answer and was rewarded by her melodic laughter in response. For some reason, he felt privileged to have made her laugh. Her laughter seemed almost like a gift that she gave out to only the most worthy of people. Get a grip, Thomas told himself. He wasn’t making sense. The woman didn’t strike him as the type to hoard her laughter. She was just a normal female with what appeared to be a superior knowledge of auditing procedures. Thomas cleared his throat and looked back down at her resume. “Can you wait outside? I need to talk to Margie another moment, then she’ll need to speak to you again,” he said and stood up, reaching out to shake her hand. Thomas took her shaking hand in his and a protective feeling washed over him. He wanted to reassure her that everything would be okay. But since he wanted to date the woman, rather than hire her, he couldn’t give her any reason to relax. Risky Negotiations Prologue The deep voice of the minister resonated throughout the beautifully decorated church, his eyes glancing over the congregation. “If there is anyone who thinks this union should not take place, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the minister said and waited a moment, looking out to the pews filled with people. Only the candles flickered in response and the petals on the hundreds of flowers waited anxiously. Laci held her breath but not in anticipation of an objection. There was a gorgeous man directly in front of her. His direct gaze with intense, dark blue eyes flustered her and warmed her skin. He was the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life. He was tall, at least six feet three inches with jet black hair, dark eyes that almost appeared black, his skin was dark and he had the broadest shoulders – she doubted there was any padding in the tuxedo adorning his gorgeous body. And she had no idea what his name was. He looked vaguely like the president of ATI but that couldn’t be possible. Salvatore Attracelli had to be older than this man standing on the other side of the groom. He ran a multi-billion dollar a year conglomerate that employed thousands of people all over the world. This man was too young to be Salvatore. And too sexy. Heads of international companies were old and stuffy, out of shape, boring even. This man was virile and muscular in all the right places under that tuxedo. The man standing in front of her was probably one of the younger brothers that all worked in ATI as well. The minister’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Laci was brought back to the present and the solemnity of the moment by his next words. “By the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Virginia, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The minister smiled widely as he continued, “You may now kiss the bride.” Laci sighed deeply as she watched her older sister Victoria, radiant and one of the happiest brides she’d ever seen, kiss her new husband, Thomas Attracelli, while the rest of the audience cheered. She was very happy for her sister, had even suggested that Victoria think of Thomas as a significant other months before when Victoria had first joined his team as an internal auditor for ATI. Victoria, Laci’s older sister by five years, and her new husband Thomas were walking down the aisle, now newly married and obviously deliriously happy. Laci was the Maid of Honor in this huge parade and the moment when she would have to face the gorgeous man was coming soon. She hid behind feigned confidence as she took the offered hand of the sexy Best Man so he could escort her down the aisle behind the bride and groom. She hoped he didn’t see through her bravado, but the enigmatic smile on his face made her doubt her ability to hide her interest and her timidity. She laid her hand carefully on his arm, praying he couldn’t detect the small tremor his closeness generated. She jumped slightly when he spoke, both because of his words and her tension at his closeness. “Aren’t you happy for them?” his deep voice asked as he bent down to whisper in her ear. “Of course!” she gasped, glancing shyly up at the man and forcing a wider smile on her face. “Why do you ask?” She couldn’t hold his gaze though. There was something about this man that made her feel like she was looking onto her first grade school crush. Her stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies and she suspected that her palms were sweaty but she hoped not. That would be the ultimate embarrassment. Laci impatiently brushed a strand of hair back over her shoulder wishing she had stood her ground against her sister and pinned her waist length, curly hair up in a bun as she normally wore it. Having it hang down her back, with the curls going every which way wasn’t very sophisticated. And this man seemed very sophisticated. “You seemed distracted during the ceremony,” his deep voice said, in explanation for his question. Laci blushed and glanced down at the floor, hoping he didn’t notice the color in her cheeks. “No, I’m very happy for both of them. I wish they’d gotten together months ago.” He guided her to their place in the receiving line and she didn’t have a chance to answer since the guests were now filing out of the church and each wanted to say hello to either Laci or the man next to her. Laci hadn’t been at the rehearsal dinner last night because her flight had been delayed from Michigan due to snow. They were standing in the receiving line for only five minutes before someone greeted him and she was able to learn his name. Salvatore Attracelli? The man who ran ATI, one of the largest conglomerates in the United States? She had known that Thomas worked for ATI which was run by his older brother. For some reason, she’d always pictured Salvatore as an older man, stilled in tradition and responsibility. From the way Victoria talked about him, she thought of him as nice, but kind of a stick in the mud. She’d even seen his picture on the internet. This urbane, sexy man standing next to her and introducing her to several of his friends and acquaintances as they passed hardly seemed like the man on the internet site. Laci could not imagine this man as a stick in the mud. screamed sexuality in a classy but blatant sort of way. He practically Shaking herself out of her reverie, Laci shook the next person’s hand as they stepped in front of her. She was probably just overly tired, she thought as she pushed her hair back over her shoulder again and her elbow accidentally brushed up against his arm. She smiled up her apology, ignored the tingling in her arm, and turned to the next guest. Her reaction to his smile and the reassuring arm that moved behind her to rest on the small of her back was out of proportion to the gesture, she told herself. “Pull yourself together, Laci” she mentally chided herself. “You’ve been studying for finals and then the Bar exam for weeks, and have been going on four hours of sleep a night for the past three weeks. Of course a gentle hand is going to affect you but there is no need to embarrass yourself and your older sister.” Laci plastered a smile on her face and nodded at whatever the woman in front of her was saying. She glanced down the line and was grateful to see the end finally in sight. “Almost done,” Sal’s deep voice said in her ear. “Can you make it?” “I think so,” she whispered back, smothering a laugh since she’d been caught hoping for an escape, “as long as no one else asked me if I’m excited for my sister. I’ve only answered that about two hundred and fifty times. Two hundred and fifty one…I’m not responsible for my actions,” she whispered, wrinkling her nose slightly. “Was I that obvious?” “You look about ready to wilt,” he said but his eyes were laughing, telling her that he was silently agreeing with her comment on the repetitive questions. The next few hours were a blur. The only two things she remembered were his name, Salvatore Attracelli, and standing in his strong, secure embrace, enjoying the muscular arms holding her gently as they danced for a few brief moments during the dance for the Maid of Honor and Best Man. He was the first true gentleman she’d ever met and she savored the feeling of dancing in his arms. He held her as if she were a priceless piece of china. Most of the men she dated pushed and pressured her as much as possible, trying to control her in some way. She must present a challenge to them because she was usually fighting against their restrictions, both physical and emotional. But this man held her gently and confidently within his strong embrace. It was a feeling she wasn’t used to but could easily learn to appreciate. She danced with several other men during the reception, laughed at the toasts and went through the motions of celebrating her sister’s wedding. And the whole time, she kept peering through the crowd, hoping for another look at him, wishing she could dance in his arms again, feel his strong fingers holding her hand in his. Laci shook her head as she ducked around a column when he caught her eye at one point in the evening. It wasn’t like her to be so shy. Her normal modus operandi was to walk up to a man she was interested in and talk to him, joke with him, possibly ask him out. Why was she now hiding behind furniture and wall obstacles in an effort to peek at him without his knowledge? What was it about this man that made her tremble? He was definitely gorgeous and sexier than any man had a right to be. Laci laughed to herself at that description. It was too mild a term for his appearance. It would be better to say he was toe-curling, mind-bending, breathtakingly handsome. But was that any reason to act like a fifth grader on her first date? No way, she told herself and straightened her shoulders in an effort to gain some gumption. She was no one’s wall flower! Laci loved life and threw herself into it with all the energy her body contained. She was always up for an adventure or a new experience. And perhaps some men considered that a threat but she didn’t really care. She knew some of her previous boyfriends had broken up with her because she loved living and experiencing new things more than she liked spending time with them. Unfortunately, this man who stimulated every sense in her system didn’t seem affected by her in any way other than as the younger sister to his newest sister in law. An unfortunate situation, Laci thought at several points throughout the evening. Why were only the wrong sorts attracted to her? If a man was controlling, manipulative or just plain irritating, they seemed to be magnetized to her in some sort of way. She’d had that discussion with her sister several times but neither could come up with an adequate explanation. They both just accepted that Laci’s free spirit was a challenge to some kinds of men who needed to tame and control her. She accepted a dance from yet another man, this one heavy set and balding who had clammy, soft hands. She smiled and conversed with him but was happy to leave his arms at the end of the dance. Her toes didn’t appreciate his lack of precision on the dance floor no matter how many times he apologized. She sat down at one of the beautifully decorated tables and took a sip of champagne, sighing as she watched Sal dance in the arms of a lovely blonde with a low-cut, black cocktail dress on. He didn’t even glance in her direction this time which she was grateful for. Laci smoothed the lovely lilac bridesmaid dress over her shoulder. It was very nice but it wasn’t very sophisticated. In fact, it made her feel like she was ready for a prom instead of a wedding. She watched as the attractive couple swayed to the beat of the music and sighed. Why couldn’t this man, this incredibly sexy, virile and reputedly intelligent man see her as something more than a child? During their short dance together as the Maid of Honor and Best man, the only words spoken between them were generalities, mostly about the weather and how her exams went. She was flattered that he had taken the time to find out about her, even if he looked at her as if he were fifty years older than her instead of only ten. Later that night, Laci sighed with fatigue as she climbed between the cold sheets of her bed and reminded herself that she was twenty-two, not fifty-five. Unfortunately, her body felt the latter. She was tired, too tired to do anything more than sleep and survive until her grades came in. Then she’d start the search for a job. She had a few offers from some prestigious law firms. But none of them made jump her up and down with excitement. Having finished her undergraduate degree early and earning her law degree in record time, she wasn’t in a hurry to jump into something quickly. She had time, she kept telling herself. Despite her exhausted state, she couldn’t sleep that night. Her mind replayed the few short moments when she was held in Salvatore’s arms, feeling cherished and special. Chapter 1 Three Years Later Matt McGinlly, the head of ATI’s legal department came into Sal’s office and held out a file folder. “Sal, the workers in the Michigan and Richmond plants are up for re-negotiation of their contracts. I have a list of their requests,” he said. Sal looked up from the report he’d been reviewing and smiled at Matt. “This is for Templar Pharmaceuticals? What are their requests?” he asked, putting aside the papers and taking the new documents Matt offered him. He leaned back in his leather chair and scanned the list. “What’s the output and profit for each of these plants?” he asked not bothering to look up as he absorbed all the information Matt had compiled for his review. Knowing that Sal would ask that question, Matt already had the statistics. He settled into the chair in front of Sal’s desk and leaned back, propping one ankle on top of the opposite knee. “They are great. For the fifth year in a row, output has increased by three percent and profit has gone from four percent when we bought it to over thirteen percent this past year. The workers are happy with the benefits they received from us when we took over the plant and it shows in the increased productivity and decreased accidents and mistakes.” Sal nodded, reading the information more carefully. He put down the papers and stood up, thinking about a possibility, wondering if his plan would work. He looked out the window at the panoramic view of Washington, D.C. but didn’t really see the sun setting on the horizon. The neon colors of red, orange, purple and pink didn’t impact his consciousness as he considered all the ramifications of his plan. Could he really do what he had been considering for the past year? Would it work? Was it fair? It wasn’t really. But in this instance, would the ends justify the means? He thought so. He hoped so. He’d been working on the plan for a while and it was finally time to put action to his thoughts. As he reviewed his memory, he realized that there really wasn’t any question. He hadn’t been able to come up with an alternative over the past few years to get in touch with her. This was it, now or never. Why was he even hesitating? Matt sat in one of the chairs facing Sal’s desk, wondering what was going through his boss’s mind. The past few negotiations with this particular group of workers had gone through with barely a hitch. When ATI, Inc. took over a company, they usually came in and increased the benefits, got rid of a lot of dead wood or bad management and genuinely listened to the concerns of the workers. It was one of the reasons ATI had grown to be such a huge conglomerate. The Attracelli family ran all the various companies with Salvatore Attracelli at the helm and Matt had always been in awe of the business acumen from the man facing the windows. Not only was it odd that Sal was actually thinking about something. It was unusual for him to not be amazingly decisive. No matter what the issue, Sal usually had a quick answer for everything. There was no hesitation. The man had an incredible head for business, increasing the revenue of ATI about ten percent each year for the past six years – ever since he took over after his parents’ death. “The lawyers for the workers are Massey & Mehan, correct?” Sal asked suddenly, turning to look at Matt. Matt nodded. “Why?” he questioned, a little concerned. Sal tried very hard to keep things out of mediation. Matt didn’t understand this latest question. It seemed like a no brainer to give the workers what they were asking for. Why were negotiations even a consideration? “Let me get back to you on this,” Sal said and picked up the next file on his desk. Matt understood that he had been dismissed and he walked back to his office, wondering what was happening. ATI tried hard to be fair and none of the current requests from the workers were out of line. As soon as Sal was alone in his office, he picked up the phone on his desk and dialed a number. A man immediately picked up the phone, “Phil Massey,” he said in a no nonsense voice. “Phil, how have you been?” Sal started out. “Great Sal!” he said cheerfully, immediately recognizing Sal’s voice, “And I’d be even better if you’d give me another chance to beat you at squash.” “You got it. Call Norma to schedule a time.” “I will. What can I do for you?” Phil Massey asked, understanding that this was more than a friendly call. “Who is the lead on the Templar union contract?” he asked. Sal heard Phil typing on his computer a moment. “That would be Jim McPherson and Laci Anderson. Why? Are there some issues that need to be worked out?” “There might be,” Sal responded. “If ATI starts negotiations, can McPherson and Anderson maintain confidentiality?” “Absolutely. But you’re in for a tough fight. Those two are great negotiators. Jim is tough and Laci is one of the best lawyers I’ve had. She’s coming up the ranks.” “That’s what I’m hoping for,” Sal said. “Thanks for the information. I’ll let you know if any issues need smoothing out.” Sal turned and stared out the window. He thought of the woman who had trembled in his arms during one short dance three years ago. She was the complete opposite of what he was usually attracted to in women. He typically dated tall, sophisticated, blonds who knew the game and how to play it. He liked women who were passionate and could tell him what they wanted with that passion. Somehow, Laci seemed small and fragile despite her luscious figure. The top of her head barely reached his chin and, instead of a sultry blond, she was a blue eyed brunette with long, softly curling hair and beautiful, soft-looking skin that he wanted to touch to feel if it was as silky as it looked. She also had the brightest smile he had ever seen. When she looked up at him, her smile seemed to warm him all the way to his heart. And in some un-definable way, she challenged him as well. He knew there were depths to her personality and he wanted to find out everything about her, explore each layer and discover what made her tick. He refused to call it an obsession even though his curiosity hadn’t waned in the three years since he’d last seen her. It was more of a mystery he wanted to solve, he told himself. Since he was admitting his interest, he didn’t discount the way she filled out that purple dress. His memory of her in that satin gown had haunted his dreams for several nights after his brother’s wedding. He vividly remembered her tiny waist, slender hips and long legs, all topped off by voluptuous breasts Sal still thought about. Did she still look as gorgeous? She’d been a college student back then, he remembered. Would she have gained weight? Filled out differently? Did it matter, he wondered? He had thought about her so many times over the past three years he knew she had gotten under his skin. During their one dance, he hadn’t dared to hold her close, feeling it wasn’t appropriate because of their ages. But she’d had three years to grow up since he’d last seen her. Would she be different? Would she be cynical? He certainly hoped not. Her vitality and freshness had been such an alluring trait. She had been refreshing, he thought. Although he hadn’t seen her in three years, he’d kept tabs on her through her sister Victoria. The whole Attracelli family got together every Sunday to attend church, and then headed over to Sal’s house for a family dinner. It was during those meals that Sal was able to casually ask about Laci, where she was and how she was doing. He’d heard about her employment with a top Washington, D.C. law firm after college and how she had worked up the ranks to reach a lauded negotiator’s position within the firm. He’d also heard rumors about her skills from other companies, all of whom were impressed with her legal abilities. Proposal To Love Chapter 1 Jim McNabb poked his head in Darcy’s door. “You ready to defend your ideas?” he asked, smiling as if he’d just swallowed the canary. “What do you mean?” Darcy asked cautiously, not willing to sign up for anything when it came to her boss. Jim was great, but he tended to ride roughshod over people if they weren’t careful. Darcy pushed a flyaway strand of chocolate brown hair out of her face, wondering why it never stayed in the bun she put it in each morning. Jim sauntered into her office and leaned against the doorway, extending the suspense a few moments longer. “I mean, I talked to Michael Attracelli and he’s willing to listen to your ideas on the bid he turned down last week.” Darcy stared blankly at Jim for a long moment until his words sunk in. “You don’t mean the Senior Vice President for Growth and Technology, do you?” she whispered, awed by even mentioning his name out loud. The man was a legend, not just within the ATI community but in the information technology industry. He was a giant. He was brilliant when it came to programming and bidding on key jobs within the industry that put ATI in a strategic position for future work. And he wanted to hear her pitch? Darcy was suddenly nervous. Terrified actually. She tried to hide her anxiety in front of Jim but she suspected that her green eyes mirrored her inner terror. Arguing with her boss about ATI’s decision not to bid on a huge job was one thing. Arguing in front of Michael Attracelli was a completely different game! The man had to have been around since the concept of computers was introduced, he knew so much about them. Jim watched the emotions run across the beautiful young woman’s face. Darci was not very skilled at hiding her emotions. He saw the excitement build then the anxiety enter her stunningly green eyes. Finally, her porcelain skin turned pale white as she realized the magnitude of what he was asking her to do. But it didn’t matter. Darcy was the kind of woman that thrived on challenges so he knew she wouldn’t turn down this opportunity no matter how nervous she became. Sure enough, a moment later, her pert little chin went up and she straightened her slim shoulders, a sign that she was mentally getting herself ready for the problem of changing the mind of a senior vice president, no matter how terrifying the prospect. Jim had never met or worked with a more competent person. Nor had he ever seen the kind of blind determination this woman possessed. She worked long hours, dedicating her life to ATI. Not only was she intelligent and driven, she was beautiful as well. He suspected she didn’t even know how incredibly lovely she was. She was too dedicated to getting the work done to take the time to notice her personal appearance. He never heard of her dating anyone. When they talked, she only spoke of work issues and challenges. But he suspected she wasn’t dating anyone currently. When would she find the time? She worked fourteen hour days plus weekends. Once the fear was gone from her face, he smiled at her, trying to give her confidence. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Jim asked, satisfied with her determined expression. He was delighted that he was able to drop this bomb on her. It wasn’t often that anyone surprised Darcy Madison. He was actually hoping for a smile, but was disappointed this time. Darcy was stunning with a passive face. Her classically shaped features and the glowing green eyes that shone out from her lively face were enough to make men stop and stare. He knew because he had been affected that way when he’d first met her. In addition, he’d walked with her down the street and noticed the same affect on the other men she passed. What was more amazing was that Darcy didn’t realize that it was happening. She was so intent on what she was doing, even if she was just walking down the street talking with another person, her whole self was absorbed in her task, eliminating all other details. Add a figure that should be modeling sexy underwear and her smile, and the combination was devastating at times. Whenever Darcy smiled, gravity seemed to weigh more heavily in the room. Jaws dropped, pens fell to the floor, coffee cups spilled and water splashed in every direction. She turned from looking like a supermodel, albeit a petite one, to a mischievous elf, with just a smile. She had dimples on both sides of her luscious mouth and her cat-like eyes twinkled as if she knew all the funny secrets in the world. It was quite a sight and caused shock each time a new person experienced her smile. Jim sighed, wishing he could remember some joke to tell her so he could see her smile. Boy, was she a sight to behold. Darcy interrupted his thoughts and got him back to the business at hand. “Not a problem. I can do this,” she said, grabbing her notebook and standing up. She grabbed a pen, and then rushed behind her boss out the door. A few seconds later, Darcy raced back to her desk and grabbed her glasses, then right back out to the hallway again. “Are you sure Michael Attracelli is going to listen to me?” she asked, trailing behind him as she went through her papers to find the notes on the bid the senior vice president had originally rejected. “Yep, the one and only.” “Why is he going to listen now? What changed his mind?” Jim pressed the call button for the elevator. “I did. I was talking to him and mentioned your idea. He seemed interested so I told him I’d get the two of you together to discuss the idea.” Darci grimaced. “Remind me to keep my mouth shut in the future.” “Bah!” he said and waved her concern aside. “You’re ready for this,” he said. “And if not, you’re no worse off than you were five minutes ago except that you’ve finally met Michael.” “How do I greet him?” she asked. “Is there any formal policy?” Jim glanced back to the nervous beauty, his eyes rolling. “He’s not royalty. He’s just a vice president.” Darcy had a great sense of the absurd and was willing to make fun of herself when she was acting silly, like right now. “Yeah, but he’s sort of a god in the industry. It seems like he should have some sort of title befitting that reputation, don’t you think?” the imp in her joked. “Vice President just doesn’t do him justice, I’m guessing.” “How about God of IT?” he quipped, pressing the button on the elevator that would take them to the executive floors. They stepped into the elevator together. “No,” she said, shaking her head while she stared up at the lights indicating the floors they were passing. “It has to be more glorious. How about…God of Information?” she asked. Jim didn’t respond but chuckled at her. “Why not?” she asked, a few moments before they came to the top floor, “I mean, it’s reputed that he knows everything. Therefore, he must be at least a century old. I’m hoping that if I make it to that age, I’ll get a god-like title as well.” She missed Jim’s astonished expression because the doors opened and they walked out into the subdued atmosphere of the executive floor. It was dramatically different on this floor, Darcy thought as she made her way down the hallway behind Jim who obviously knew where Michael Attracelli’s office was. Her office was on the sixth floor and was filled with mostly technical people. They called to each other with their ideas or barged into offices unannounced to bounce ideas off of each other. Some people didn’t even bother with going to an office. They would just shoot ideas as a co-worker passed by in the hallways. There was a great deal of joking and letting off of steam when the tensions rose or deadlines drew near. On this floor, it was very quiet. The doors were mostly closed and people scurried about busily, looking very important and harried. She suspected that no one really joked on this floor and meetings were scheduled to discuss ideas, not tossed about while walking to get a cup of coffee. It was very serious business up here on the fifteenth floor. They stopped in an impressive lobby-like area with a secretary quickly typing on a computer. She looked up when Jim entered and smiled her greeting. “He’s waiting for the two of you. Just go on in,” she said, waving towards a double door that was open on one side. “Thanks, Donna,” Jim said and nodded for Darcy to follow him through a set of closed double doors. Jim knocked, but didn’t wait for a response before entering. They walked into a large office filled with modern, steel and glass furniture. Off to one side, a small grouping of brown leather chairs and a sofa surrounded a low coffee table. Jim stopped in the middle of the room, politely waiting for the man behind the desk to get off the phone. Darcy was behind him, taking in the impressive office space. She was lucky to have a small round table in her office that she used for conferences with her technical leads but it was nothing like this, she thought, looking around the room and noting the panoramic view of the Washington, D.C. skyline. It was twilight so the sun was just touching the horizon, setting down between the tall buildings and monuments of the historic city. “Jim, how are you?” a deep voice said. Darcy looked up and felt her mouth drop open. The most incredibly gorgeous man she’d ever met in her life was walking towards Jim, his hand outstretched to shake Jim’s. “Doing well, thanks. How about you?” Jim asked. “Not bad,” he replied. Darcy felt the man’s dark blue eyes move her way and snapped her mouth shut. But not in time. One dark eyebrow went up when he caught her shocked expression. Thankfully, the handsome man didn’t comment on her open mouthed expression. Jim cleared his throat. “This is Darcy Madison. She has the great ideas I was telling you about earlier. Thanks for taking the time to hear her out,” Jim was saying. “Great. I’m eager to hear them,” the gorgeous man said. “How about if we sit down?” he asked, waving his arms to indicate that they should sit down the sofa and chairs versus the desk with chairs in front of it. Darcy shook herself mentally. So he was stunning. What did she care? She was here to do a job and a handsome face can be seen on any magazine cover, she told herself. They all sat down, then the two men turned to Darcy expectantly. Darcy blinked, realizing that they wanted her to start her arguments. “Shouldn’t we wait for Mr. Attracelli?” she asked, trying to be diplomatic but not wanting to go through this twice. After a pregnant pause, Jim laughed self consciously. “Um…Darcy, this is Michael Attracelli,” he said simply. Darcy’s eyes snapped back to the man who was now trying to hide a smile. “Oh,” was all she could say while her face turned pink in her embarrassment. Her mind just wasn’t working. Well, who could think with that man staring at her so expectantly? A woman should be allowed to make a fool of herself around a man like that! “I think Darcy was expecting an older man,” he explained to Michael. “Ah,” was all he said and turned back to face Darcy, waiting expectantly. Shaking her head, she pushed the man’s physical attributes aside, reminding herself that this man had turned down her idea for bidding on a very strategic project. It was something she felt confident the company could win and would place them in a good position for future work in an area she thought was not very well tapped yet. “Well, then. Here’s my idea for the project. I know this work is a little different than what we normally do, but if we go a little bit to the left in our processes, you’ll see that my ideas really will work,” she stressed, warming to her topic. “If you’ll turn to page three,” she said, handing them a copy of a briefing she’d done for Jim and some others last week, “you’ll see what I have in mind. If we don’t use the normal operating system, then we can sidestep many of your concerns about….” Darcy explained, addressing each of the issues she’d heard about and how she would circumvent any problems. She talked and answered questions for over an hour from both Jim and Michael, showing them that she had done her homework and knew the subject. What she was proposing was dramatically different from what she suspected the competitors would be offering but by going with a different operating system, she knew that ATI could do the job for much less money and create a much more stable system with double the flexibility. The down side would be that ATI would have to do most of the development work ahead of time in order to prove to the client that it would work. That created a huge risk. Not many companies, ATI included since they rejected going for this work initially, would put up thousands, potentially hundreds of thousands of dollars to work without a contract from a client with the hopes that they would be so impressed with the solution they would buy it after the fact. The up side would be, if they won the work, they would be perfectly positioned for millions of dollars in contracts that would feed off the work. She finally finished her briefing and sat there, waiting in the silence as Michael considered various aspects of her idea. The silence was broken a moment later as Jim’s cell phone went off. He looked at the number on the screen and sighed. “I’m sorry, I need to take this. It’s a client,” he said and walked out of the office. She could hear him talking in the lobby, and then his voice trailed off as he moved down the hallway. Chapter 2 The silence lasted so long, she started to fidget. He was going through the pages of her briefing again, making notes in the margins. Darcy was a lot of things, but patient wasn’t one of them. She liked computers because she understood them. In fact, she worked long hours because human relations were just too irritating in general. She had several friends that she did things with occasionally, but not on a regular basis. Her time was mostly spent at work, tweaking lines of code and reviewing data. Those people she socialized with were also in the industry and they talked shop most of the time. Darcy crossed and uncrossed her legs, wishing she could get some sort of feedback from this man. She still couldn’t get over the fact that this virile, sexy man was the one and only Michael Attracelli. She remembered reading about him in the technology magazines when she was in college. Granted, only six years had passed since she graduated but she’d always thought of him as being somewhere in his sixties or seventies, considering the amount of work he’d done and the influence he had in ATI. “Hiccup” Darcy looked around, shocked that the sound had come from her. Had she really done that? “Hiccup” “Excuse me,” she said, her face turning red when Michael looked up from reading the briefing, eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry,” Darcy said, desperately trying to smother her hiccups. But they were coming fast and furious. “I guess I’m just hungry,” she said as an explanation for her hiccups. Michael was instantly contrite, looking at his watch. “I’m sorry; I’ve kept you too late. We can go over this another time,” he said. “No, no! Please, I have plenty of time.” This might be her only chance to convince him of her idea and she didn’t want to lose the opportunity because she’d skipped lunch again. Michael sat back and watched her. “You don’t have a husband and kids waiting for you at home?” Darcy shook her head. “No, but I guess you do,” she said, gathering up her papers. “Nope,” he said and stood up, reading the briefing as he walked over to his desk. He pressed a button which was obviously a speed dial to a Chinese restaurant. “Hello Chiang! How are you?” Michael asked when the phone call was answered. “Fine, fine,” the voice said over the speaker phone. “Working late again tonight?” the voice asked. “Yes. Can you send over my usual?” Michael asked. “Of course,” “And what would you like?” Michael asked, looking over towards Darcy. Darcy blushed but spoke up. “Hello Chiang. This is Darcy. And you know what I like,” she said. She watched as Michael smiled. The voice over the phone chuckled. “You want two broccoli and chicken meals or you both want to share?” Michael laughed. “I guess we can share if you toss in some extra egg rolls,” he said. “You got it,” Chiang said. “I charge you, Mr. Attracelli. You pay for the lady,” he said. Michael chuckled. “Deal. Charge it to my account. Thanks for the tip on the gentlemanly behavior, Chiang.” “I could give you lots of tips. Number one, take her out instead of working so late,” he said. “But you won’t listen to me, will you? That’s why I have six kids and you have none.” Darcy smothered a laugh, watching Michael shake his head. “You have a good point. I’ll talk to you soon,” he said. Love’s Not Terrifying Chapter 1 “Wow!” Gus Attracelli caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and walked across the club house deck to get a better view. He craned his neck to get a better look, straining to see the tennis court through the trees. Gus was just as impressed with the volley as he was with the incredibly long, sexy legs displayed by the mystery woman’s saucy tennis outfit. He liked the way it swung around her upper thighs, teasing and showing hopeful possibilities but never revealing anything. He ignored the heat of the late afternoon sun beating down onto the deck where he was standing in order to get another view of the woman. Unfortunately, just as suddenly as the vision with sexy legs came into his line of sight, she disappeared behind the perfectly manicured bushes that lined the tennis courts of the exclusive country club. He leaned over the railing to catch another glimpse of her but she had run out of his line of site. The sun glared into his eyes but he ignored the inconvenience, putting up a hand to block out the rays. All his concentration was on getting another look at the fantastic pair of legs. When she didn’t immediately jog back into sight, he became impatient. “Where the hell did she go?” he muttered to himself. In the distance, someone was mowing the grass and the engine created a soft hum against the sultry summer afternoon. In the back of his mind, he noted the smell of the chlorine from the pool but since the kids were still in school for a few more weeks, there wasn’t any sound coming from that direction. All was basically quiet except for the repetitive sound of a ball machine lobbing tennis balls across the tennis court and then, moments later, the woman’s tennis racket hitting the ball. Abruptly, she was back in his line of sight. She popped back and swung her tennis racket hard at the incoming ball, thwacking it with a mighty hit. Gus imagined the perspiration forming on her forehead as she raced across the tennis court to catch the next ball being lobbed over the net. Gus wiped his brow and looked behind him, feeling like a voyeur but unable to turn away and allow the lovely lady her privacy. He was spellbound. Again, she chased after a ball that went to the left side of the tennis court. “Where did she go?” he murmured again, leaning over the railing and craning his neck to catch another glimpse. He almost jumped back when she burst back into his view, then looked around to see if anyone had noticed, slightly embarrassed at his reaction. The woman with the long legs and long, blond hair, was at least five hundred feet away from him. He probably looked ridiculous jumping back from someone so far away. His concern over being observed was ignored when she bent over to catch a low ball and he was treated to her pert derriere. “Lady, you’re a gentleman’s nightmare,” he muttered, but didn’t take his eyes off her sexy figure. The woman raced to the edge of the tennis court to return the ball and Gus leaned against the rail to the decking in order to get a better view. He was impressed when she returned the volley and grateful when she moved back to the center of the court so he had a better view. His eyes followed her progress as she hit ball after ball. But he wasn’t concentrating on her tennis skill. It was her legs that had him mesmerized. They were long and lean and he had a clear view right up to the edge of her sassy tennis skirt. And every once in a while, he got another view of her spectacular derriere when she dove to return a particularly difficult ground shot. He had no idea who the blond woman was. She was playing against a ball machine in the middle of the afternoon. Gus had arrived at his friend’s club early to play golf and, since he wasn’t a member of this particular country club, he was asked to wait in the lobby. Thankfully, his wait was rewarded by the view of the woman playing tennis and he was content to remain, grateful even. Gus considered himself a connoisseur of women but he’d never been particularly fascinated by legs. He was more of a breast man. She bent to get a ball and he was hypnotized by the athletic grace with which she ran and volleyed. He wished he was down there playing with her, wondered whether she was really as skilled as she appeared or if she had set the ball machine to issue easy lobs. It was a quiet afternoon at the club for some reason and this mystery woman was the only one playing on all six courts. The ball machine shot the balls to her at what seemed to be a merciless rate but from the number of balls on her side of the court versus those that were scattered on the machine’s side indicated she was able to keep up with the pace. Gus heard his friend, Jim Siler, in the lobby and quickly moved from the deck to meet him. For some reason, Gus didn’t want anyone else to enjoy his view from the deck. He didn’t look into that emotion too closely since it was a ridiculous desire. “How are you doing, Gus?” Jim called out, shaking Gus’s hand and slapping him on the shoulder. “Great, Jim. How about you?” Gus asked, returning the handshake. “Fine, fine!” Jim retorted. “Hey, some others were heading out to play a round and I thought it might be fun to put together a foursome. Do you mind?” he asked. “Not at all,” Gus replied, shaking his head. He didn’t care how many people played golf, just so long as he could get out and whack some balls as hard as possible. He had been working eighteen hour days for the past three weeks to finish up some projects and he was ready to relieve some stress. “Great, they were already heading down to the locker rooms. We’ll meet them there.” They headed downstairs and Gus changed into his golf cleats, then walked off to check in. It seemed as if all four of them had the same intention of relieving stress he noted as they joked while heading out to the first tee. A flip of a coin later and the first one teed off. Gus took the last position, not in a hurry this afternoon. When it was his turn, he placed his ball on the small tee, squared off his club, pulled back and let the club swing with all his might into a powerful “thwack” that send the ball straight down the fairway. As soon as he let go of his follow through, he felt his nerves release some of the pressure and a small portion of the stress instantly left his body. He didn’t even care that his ball went the furthest and straightest. He just needed the release. The four of them drove off down the fairway, Gus driving since the other four had at least one more hit before they reached his ball. Alana Mason used her towel to wipe the sweat from her face then headed to the other side of the fence to start collecting tennis balls. She wished she could go another round against the machine but she needed to meet with a caterer this afternoon and a shower was definitely in order before that meeting. She sighed as she picked up the last of the balls then dumped the whole lot into the ball machine, setting the basket next to the machine for a staff member to collect later. She wished she could relax like this more often. It seemed that she ran from one appointment to another constantly. And she didn’t even have a job in the normal sense. She supposed she could be considered a consultant for her father’s property management firm since she acted as his hostess, organizing all his social events. When she wasn’t organizing parties for her father, she was organizing fund raisers for the Washington, D.C. orphanages she’d “adopted” three years ago. She walked the short distance from the tennis courts to the clubhouse, entering through the bottom door that would take her directly to the locker rooms. The air conditioning sent a chill through her perspiration soaked body, but it served the purpose of rushing her through to the locker room so she could shower and change. There was a lot to be done and not much time to do it, she reminded herself. The kids were counting on her and she refused to let them down. Seven year old David’s comment to her the first time she met him always rung in her ears whenever she felt like slowing down. He’d been eating ice cream with her, his big brown eyes staring up at her as she asked about his home. He’d been almost belligerent when he’d explained that he didn’t have a home, nor did he need one. “Too many people just brush us off. We don’t need them anymore than they need us,” he’d said , then the tough little boy had looked down at his bowl of ice cream, refusing to let the tears fall down his cheeks despite the fact that they were brimming on the edge of his eye lashes. Alana smiled softly at the memory of David running into her on his skateboard one afternoon three years ago. She had been coming out of her lawyer’s office after signing her formal divorce decree. That afternoon, she’d been feeling like a failure for only being married four months, all of which had been awful and humiliating. There had been five kids skateboarding recklessly down the street that day, but David was the only one the doorman had caught. The older boys had all escaped. The doorman was about to call the police as he held David by the collar of his shirt. Alana had convinced him that it wasn’t necessary. No one had gotten hurt and the boys hadn’t been malicious in their intent. But she required David to come with her for lunch. David, she found out over the next hour, was seven years old, skipped school on a regular basis just as he was doing that day, and lived in a rundown orphanage five blocks away. He was an easy companion and talked almost non-stop once Alana offered him an ice cream sundae. They ate ice cream and he told her about his difficult life and Alana realized that she had been wallowing in self pity for so long, she hadn’t been able to see how pathetic and self-centered her life had become. Alana had gone to visit the orphanage that afternoon and realized what a horrific place it was. The building was falling apart, there was almost no supervision, the playground was a set of swings, one of which was broken and the chains on all were rusting away. The basket ball court was filled with boys shooting hoops but there were no nets anywhere. And a line of girls sat on the sidelines, primping and calling out to the boys in obvious attempts to get attention from them. Over the past three years, Alana had found donors for several projects benefiting the orphanage. It now boasted a bright, cheerful playground, newly asphalted basketball courts with nets on each of the hoops, a computer room, a small library, a van to take the kids on field trips and a support staff that helped the kids with all types of problems. She’d also organized a volunteer campaign from various companies that mentored the kids, helped them with their homework, coached girls and boys sports activities and several other projects. As she showered, she went over her afternoon appointments. She needed to meet with the caterer for her father’s cocktail party this Friday night. She knew she needed something different to serve the guests but was at a loss as to what that could be. Alana was hoping the caterer would have some ideas. Quickly dressing in light blue, silk slacks and a white, silk shirt, she rushed out of the locker room intending to head to her car. At the last moment, she changed directions. She headed upstairs to the bar to get a bottle of water, needing something to quickly quench her thirst. She’d just gotten a bottle of water and had wandered out onto the patio to drink it when a movement to her right caught her eye. The bottle froze halfway to her mouth and her eyes simply stared at the most amazing specimen of masculinity she had ever laid eyes upon. All thoughts left her mind. Forgotten was her busy afternoon agenda, her thirst and her exhaustion. The whole world seemed to disappear when the man stood up again. He had the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen, was at least half a head taller than the other three men waiting for him and was muscular in all the right places, and all the places in between, she thought as he turned to laugh at someone’s joke. Her breath froze in her throat as she watched the muscles in his shoulders and back bunch up as he prepared his shot. She observed in fascination as he pulled back, hesitated for only a moment, then let the club rip through the air to hit the ball with a mighty whack. His follow through was perfect and she got to see the play of muscles again as the club swung over the opposite shoulder. She knew she should be watching where the ball was heading, but her eyes were glued to the man and his incredible body. No other man had ever affected her in such a way and she was helpless in her fascination. The three other men shook their heads and patted him on his back, obviously congratulating him on his shot. The four of them headed over to the two golf carts, then sped off down the fairway. Alana finally took a breath when she couldn’t see him anymore, then glanced around her to see if anyone had noticed her staring at the man. Thankfully the patio was empty at this time of the day. She pulled her bottle of water to her mouth and drank thirstily, replenishing the liquids she’d lost during her tennis practice, and because her mouth had been hanging open for that small period of time. Alana grimaced and turned her back on the now empty golf course. Heading to her car, she mentally reviewed her schedule and pushed all thoughts of the muscular Adonis out of her mind. Glancing at her watch, she realized she’d spent at least ten minutes watching the mystery man so she picked up her step. Chapter 2 Walking into the beautifully decorated executive offices of ATI Incorporated several days later was a daunting experience for Alana. As much as she believed in her cause, she really hated the fundraising part of the job. She wished she didn’t have to go begging for money to fund the orphanages and the programs they needed in order to help the kids. She didn’t understand why everyone didn’t understand what a worthy cause these children were and donate their money without her having to ask for it. Getting off the elevator and making her way down a subtly lit hallway lined with dark green carpeting that muffled her steps, Alana gave herself a pep talk. She reminded herself that the kids were a great group but no one knew their needs. It was up to her to raise the funding for the projects the kids desperately needed. “Alana Mason to see Salvatore Attracelli,” she said calmly to the first receptionist she came to. The receptionist behind a large, curving desk ran a tapered fingernail slowly down a sheet filled with names, then finally nodded. “Mr. Attracelli is expecting you, Ms. Mason. His office is the last one on the right. It is just past the conference room,” she explained, pointing in the general direction of another long hallway. “Thank you,” Alana said and smiled her thanks. Alana continued down the hallway, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm down. She really hated these kinds of appointments. She felt like a beggar. But it was the only way to keep the funds flowing. “Good afternoon, Ms. Mason,” a courteous female voice greeted Alana from the doorway. “Mr. Attracelli is running slightly behind. Would you mind waiting just a moment?” she asked. Alana located the body that was attached to the voice and smiled at the woman who appeared to be in her mid forties with horn rimmed glasses, a perfectly tailored, black wool suit and one inch heels. She seemed to be a very efficient, no-nonsense kind of woman. Alana made a mental note of the kind of woman Salvatorre Attracelli preferred for a secretary. She used that kind of information to set the tone for her presentation. “No problem,” Alana replied and took a seat in one of the chairs outside a large office and conference room. The walls of the conference room were glass so she had an unfettered view of the occupants. She was trying not to eaves drop, but the man inside instantly captured her attention with his deep voice and she was unable to tear her gaze away. It was the golfer, she thought. She had a clear view of his back and, because he wasn’t wearing a suit jacket, she recognized the broad shoulders and was again mesmerized by the muscles rippling along their breadth underneath the tailored dress shirt. She could also see that his hair was a little too long, it curled along the edge of his collar. His tie was loose and his sleeves were rolled up. She watched with fascination at his hands as he motioned to another occupant to talk. He had long, slender fingers and well muscled forearms. She didn’t hear what the other man was saying, too preoccupied with the golfer’s physique. This was definitely odd, she thought to herself. She had never been attracted to a man because of his superficial qualities. It generally took a lot for her to even become interested in a man. And to have this strong of a reaction was just silly since she had only heard his voice and seen his back. Was she completely losing her sense of decorum? She was sensible and reasonable. She did not lose her concentration and purpose simply because of muscles and a sexy, deep voice. She turned her knees so her body faced another direction, but her mind refused to relinquish its fascination with the man. “Okay, what’s the end item responsibility, Pete?” the man said. Alana felt his deep, resonant voice slide along her skin, wrapping around her and warming her soul like a velvet blanket. She leaned forward, wanting to hear more, but “Pete” apparently had the floor and had started speaking while her mystery man was simply listening and nodding his head. “Where would that put us in the industry?” he asked and another occupant answered. “What are the alternatives?” he asked. Of their own accord, Alana’s knees slowly turned back so she was facing the conference room and her eyes were again able to feast on the man’s physique, or what she could see of it, anyway. Alana stared at his back and enjoyed the sound of his voice, liking his confidence and the respect he paid to the others as they spoke. He was obviously in charge of the meeting and extremely knowledgeable on the subject, whatever it was. “Ms. Mason?” Alana snapped around at the sound her name being called and noticed the secretary standing in front of a doorway, waiting impatiently for Alana to respond. Alana guessed that the woman had called to her more than once if her raised eyebrows were any indication. Alana fought the blush creeping up her neck as she picked up her small purse and followed behind the woman into a large, airy office with a tall, handsome man coming around a desk to greet her. “Ms. Mason?” he was asking. “Yes. Please call me Alana,” she said, taking the man’s offered hand. “I’m Sal,” he said. Alana smiled. “It is nice to finally meet you, Sal. Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me. I know you have a very busy schedule so I’ll get right to the point,” she said and took out a glossy brochure that detailed the events and programs of the girls’ and boys’ orphanages for the next six months. Sal waved to a sofa and two chairs and the two of them sat down to discuss Alana’s cause. She talked for almost twenty minutes about the children and how important their future was, for the city and for the industries around the city. But Alana couldn’t tell if she was getting through to this man. He nodded at all the appropriate points but no other expression crossed his face. At the end of her pitch, she waited anxiously as Sal flipped through the pages of the brochure. She had put high hopes into getting ATI to support the kids but she had a feeling she had failed miserably. She didn’t even know if ATI supported these kinds of efforts. There was no record of their charitable contributions but it was a large conglomerate. Surely they had some sort of community payback that set aside funds for charitable efforts. “Well, this sounds like a nice proposition. I’ll give it some thought and will get back to you,” he said. Alana understood her cue to leave and she quickly stood up. “I appreciate your time,” she said and shook Sal’s hand again. Sal shook her hand and started walking her to the elevators down the hallway. “I’ve seen you at the various functions around town. You throw some very interesting parties,” he said. Alana laughed self-consciously. “Actually, it is my father who is the social whirlwind. I only act as his hostess.” “You’re more than that,” he said, chuckling. “You sold me to my wife about two years ago,” he said, walking with her to the door. Alana’s eyes widened. “You’re married to Laci?” she asked, remembering the Children’s Charity ball several years ago. It had been one of the largest fundraisers. “One and the same,” he said. He walked with her out the door and down the hallway as they talked. “I had no idea. I’m sorry I didn’t make the connection. If I had, I would have been knocking on your door a long time ago,” she replied, laughing. Sal laughed as well. “I’m sure you would have.” “How is Laci? She was my Resident Advisor during my freshman year at college.” Alana said, shaking her head at what a small world it really was. “I just spoke to her about a week ago and she wasn’t having a good time in the last few weeks of her pregnancy.” Sal smiled and Alana could see the love in his eyes despite his obvious weariness over the impending pregnancy. “No, she definitely hasn’t been very happy these past few weeks. But she’s due in about three more weeks so there’s a light at the end of the tunnel,” he explained. From his words, Alana guessed he had been a very harried husband lately. “Wow! I’m a little embarrassed now. I never made the connection with you and Laci. She talks about you all the time though.” “Well, she didn’t take my last name so it gets a little confusing sometimes,” Sal said. “I’ll bet she just loves that,” Alana laughed, knowing her friend well. “She loves it even more when a sales person calls the house and asks for Mr. Anderson.” Alana laughed softly. “I bet she does,” she said, pressing the elevator call button. “It was good talking to you,” Sal said, holding the doors to the elevator as they slid silently open. “And I’ll give you a call regarding your projects.” “Thank you for considering it,” Alana said and smiled genuinely at the tall, elegant man who had married her college mentor. “Tell Laci to hang in there and I’ll give her a call soon.” “Will do,” Sal said as the doors closed. Romantic Acquisition Chapter 1 “You must be the enemy everyone is talking about,” Katherine Avril smiled warmly as she approached the three men in business suits standing in the lobby area. She extended her hand in greeting to the tall, handsome man in the center. There were two other stern looking men behind the serious man but she assumed that the intimidating one was in charge. There was just an aura of authority surrounding him. The center man took her hand in his warm one but stood there for a long time just staring down at her, an enigmatic look in his dark, intense eyes. As soon as their hands touched, Kate was transfixed. The heat transferring from this man’s hand warmed her cold, nervous one. She had been trying to hide her anxiety ever since the stunning announcement this morning but holding this man’s hand, looking into his eyes, the rest of the world disappeared. She couldn’t feel the silver bracelets clanging against each other whenever she moved, or the painful pinching of her toes in her high heeled shoes. Everything faded away. “I’m Carlo Attracelli,” he finally said. “I represent ATI, Incorporated, if that’s what you mean.” Katherine liked his deep voice. It seemed to ring with authority and confidence and sent a secret thrill through her whole body. “Pleased to me you,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster. She shook his hand, pretending she wasn’t intimidated or overwhelmed by his large presence. She hoped he didn’t notice that her hand was shaking or that her knees were trembling. “You’ll have to excuse our lack of planning. We just heard that ATI was going to acquire Jamison’s Department Stores this morning. We’re all in shock.” He raised an eyebrow at her explanation, but didn’t respond. Instead, the man turned to his team members who were standing behind him. “This is Jeff McKenzie and Peter Ashton. They’re going to be helping with the due diligence process.” “Pleased to meet both of you as well,” she said and smiled at the two shorter, but still impressive men to Carlo’s left and right. The gorgeous, intimidating man continued to stare at her and she had the impression that he could see through her clothes and know what color and style of underwear she was wearing. It was very disconcerting, especially since she was interested in what he had underneath his perfectly tailored suit. She pictured him in silk boxers with muscular legs and stomach, not a lot of hair on his chest….Clearing her mind of those treasonous thoughts, she quickly thought of something to say. “As I said, I’m Katherine Avril, Director of Purchasing,” she explained. “You can call me Kate. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you around the offices. Mr. Jamison asked me to help you in any way while you’re working here. I’ve reserved the conference room for the next two months for your exclusive use.” With that, she turned to usher them down the hallway. Carlo Attracelli had been watching her face, and liked the twinkle in her eye which took the sting away from her words. He kept his face impassive as he took in the stunning, if slightly outrageous, female now walking away from them. He heard one of his team members chuckle behind him but he didn’t take his eyes off the petite brunette with hair that curled softly all the way down to her tiny waist. Carlo was amazed as much by her outfit as he was by the woman. She was dressed in a short, flounced, black skirt with a tight red shirt tucked into the waist. Her neck was draped in about ten different sets of necklaces and, Carlo wasn’t positive, but he suspected that he’d seen a white petticoat peak out from underneath her short skirt. Even though he had kept his eyes on her face while she was introducing herself, he knew her long, sexy legs were encased in black stockings, ending in black, patent-leather pumps with three inch heels. The phrase, “legs that never ended” applied to this tiny woman. Even so, her head was only about an inch above his shoulders with those shoes which meant she was about a foot shorter than he was without shoes. Carlo watched her turn, giving her a few feet lead so he could see her legs again. Sure enough, as she turned, her skirt bounced up slightly and a white, lace petticoat peaked out from underneath her black skirt. “You’re awfully handsome,” she said as she walked down the hallway. Again, Jeff chuckled behind them. Carlo wanted to glare at him, but he too was shocked at the comment. Had she really just said he was handsome? Not just handsome, but “awfully handsome”? A moment later, the tiny woman stopped in the middle of the hallway, her whole body frozen. Carlo, Jeff and Peter stood there, wondering what was happening. Slowly, she turned back to face the three of them, a tentative smile and a curious expression on her face, “I didn’t really say that out loud, did I?” she asked. As soon as she finished her statement, her face flamed into embarrassed color. Carlo raised one eyebrow and tried to keep from laughing. definitely a curious woman. She was With a deep sigh, she nodded her head slightly. “By the amused expressions on your face, I guess I did say it out loud.” The tiny woman grimaced and continued to make her way down the hallway toward the conference room, but her face was still flushed with color. Opening the double doors with a flourish, she ushered the three men inside, giving a wide berth to Carlo who had extremely broad shoulders and towered above the two other men. Jeff settled his briefcase onto the polished wooden surface. “Ms. Avril, excuse me for asking, but why did Jamison’s Department Stores assign the director of purchasing to help us out during this process?” She smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling with some sort of inner energy. “Please, call me Kate. No one ever calls me Ms. Avril unless they’re trying to sell me something on the phone. And even then, I can tell that it’s a salesperson because they mispronounce it,” she chattered nervously. Her attention was on Jeff and Peter, avoiding Carlo’s eyes altogether. She took a deep breath before continuing. She told herself to pull it together before these men thought of her as a complete idiot. “As for why I’m assigned to help you out, well, that might not make sense on the surface, but I’m probably the best qualified. I’d wager that I know more about these stores than anyone, including the present owner, soon to be not-present-owner if you three have any say in it, David Jamison.” “How is that?” Peter asked, smiling despite himself. Clasping her hands in front of her so they would stop fluttering around nervously, she glanced at the tall man, then back to Peter and Jeff. “My mother was the previous owner and president’s secretary. I used to do my homework beside her desk each afternoon so, even as a kid, I heard a lot about the goings on within the headquarters. Years later, when I turned sixteen, I started working for the store in the retail areas. I’ve worked in almost every department, except finance, over the past twelve years. There’s basically nothing I haven’t done, or don’t know someone who has done it or is currently doing it,” she explained. “So I’m really your best point of contact. I’m the lucky one that gets to help you three out for as long as I’m needed.” Kate once again peeked over at the tall one who called himself Carlo, then quickly away when she realized that he was staring at her still with that same strange look on his face. He was a very serious fellow, she thought. “Why isn’t David helping us with this process?” Jeff asked as he settled himself into a chair, pulling out pencils and a notepad. “You must be the accountant,” she said, smiling brightly at Jeff who immediately blushed and nodded his head. “David doesn’t like to dirty his hands with the day to day stuff of Jamison’s. He has more important things to do,” she explained and looked down at the floor. She didn’t want to be disloyal so she just left her explanation hanging at that terse statement and hoped that would be enough for the three men. Carlo sensed there was something more that she didn’t want them to know and his curiosity cranked up another notch. He suspected that there was much more to this tiny daredevil of a woman than met the eye. She came across as a little scatterbrained but he deduced that her chattering was due more to nervousness than a lack of intelligence. “How are we to get reports and information we need to complete the investigation?” Peter asked, knowing what needed to get done and eager to start. Kate smiled brightly, feeling like she was on safe ground now. “Anything you need, just ask me. I’ve assigned my deputy to take over for me for as long as you need information. I’ll only be interrupted for emergencies, so just let me know, and I’ll get you the data.” Peter and Jeff nodded and Peter explained the areas they would like to review and how the due diligence process works at a high level. He then gave her a list of things he would need to get started and Kate swept up a notepad and started writing. She nodded at all of Peter’s requests, indicating she knew she could get him the information. “What do you need?” she turned to Jeff. Jeff also gave her a list, but it was much smaller. Carlo watched her as she made notes. He recognized the moment when she knew she’d have to face him and was interested in understanding her reaction to him. He was definitely having a reaction to her although he wasn’t sure why. She was not his usual type but his body was instantly aware of everything about her, every movement she made. It was as if she were a bundle of energy just trying to escape as quickly as possible. He also liked watching her facial expressions. He wondered if she knew how much she revealed about her thoughts by her features. Carlo couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. “What kinds of reports or data do you need?” she asked more quietly, her eyes not meeting his but focusing somewhere on his chin. Carlo didn’t smile. “I’ll be fine with what you’re getting for Jeff and Peter,” he explained, wishing she’d look up at him so he could see her fascinating, green eyes again. Kate let out a deep breath she’d been holding, the relief evident. “Okay. If you’d like coffee, it has been set up on the table behind you. There’s cream and sugar as well as several types of tea. I’ll get to work on these reports. If you need anything else, my extension is…” “You’ll need to work in here with us,” Carlo said before she could give out her extension. “Do you have a laptop you can set up to work with us?” he asked. Kate looked at Peter and Jeff to see if they also wanted her in there, and received duplicate blank expressions. She had been afraid of that. “Yes, I have a laptop I can set up. I’ll get these reports and will be back in about ten minutes.” Kate left the conference room, closing the door quietly behind her. “Why do you want her to work in here? Isn’t that a departure from our normal routine?” Jeff asked as soon as they were alone. Carlo didn’t look at Jeff. He stared at the closed doors instead. “I think everything about this process is going to be different,” he speculated. Five minutes later, Kate burst back into the room, her arms loaded down with reports and charts. “Here you go. This is the first batch,” she said and blew a hair out of her face as she carried everything to the table. Jeff and Peter instantly jumped up to help her, taking the top folders that were stuffed with information and carrying them over to the table themselves. “Oh, thank you!” she said and dumped the remaining reports onto the conference room table. She straightened up and saluted them, “Okay, off on my second trip for more,” she explained and disappeared in another flash of white petticoat. Carlo noticed that both Jeff and Peter were staring at the closed door. He cleared his throat to get their attention and they snapped out of their stare, jumping to find their respective reports and get to work. It was another ten minutes, not that Carlo was watching the time, he told himself, before she reappeared. Again, she was loaded down with bulging file folders, thick reports and stacks of papers. At the very top, she had a laptop computer perched precariously. He watched as she carried everything to the table. Somehow, she was able to balance everything without the stack toppling over. He was impressed. He thought only men wanted to make one trip for everything. Apparently this slender fireball was the same way. Peter and Jeff again jumped up and took some of the burden off her while Carlo watched in astonishment as his previously well trained acquisition team, who were trained to not get involved with the personnel of a target, teased this small, fascinating woman about carrying so many items in one trip. It didn’t matter if it was a friendly acquisition, such as this one, or a hostile takeover. Peter and Jeff knew that they were supposed to remain separate in order to maintain the data integrity and not become influenced by employee issues. Even Carlo knew that this was going to be a difficult test for his team. Hell, Carlo wanted to jump up and help her if only to get himself closer so he could capture her scent again. Her perfume was very subtle, barely there even, but she smelled of lilac and vanilla. He liked it. Too much, he thought. He admitted that he was drawn to her. But he kept himself apart, determined to maintain the discipline that demanded isolation from a target during due diligence. Once they had made the final decision to acquire a company, he would then give himself permission to get closer and get to know the personnel. He had to, in fact. It would be his job to find out who would be kept on after the acquisition and who would be laid off. Carlo watched in fascination as Kate plugged in her computer. She was definitely a ball of energy, he thought. Just plugging in her computer took a great deal of movement. And each time she moved, her hair bounced, her skirt fluttered and her hands were everywhere. It would be exhausting to watch her if it wasn’t so fascinating. Kate bit her lower lip and tried to concentrate on putting the appropriate plugs into her computer. She hated to admit it, but she was a computer knownothing. She figured out that the power cable needed to connect into the round hole in the back. She made that assumption with minimal difficulty. There were only two round holes and one didn’t fit. She was extremely relieved when the other connection worked. But then there was the blue plug that looked like a phone cable. She had no idea what that did. She’d seen the computer support people plug it in and she suspected that it helped her e-mail function, but other than that, she was lost. There were two areas that this plug fit into. Since she didn’t want to blow up her computer by putting it into the wrong one, she just left it unplugged assuming that was the safest plan of action. She decided it wasn’t too important since there was no obvious plug in the back of her computer so she laid it aside and started with the mouse connection. This one turned out to be another cable that she couldn’t figure out. Deciding to save face, knowing that the tall, incredibly sexy man at the end of the conference table was watching her, she dropped the mouse into the chair next to her and used the touch pad on her computer, hoping she looked nonchalant enough to hide her computer ignorance. Taking a deep breath, she looked at her screen and was relieved to see that she had power. That was something, wasn’t it? She felt as if she’d accomplished a small miracle. Clicking on her e-mail button produced no results. She knew that blue thingy connected her somehow. Should she try again to connect? Kate sighed longingly. She wished she could work in her office. There, she just snapped her laptop onto what the computer guys called a docking station and everything worked. She had another docking station at home and it was easy enough to plop her computer in and, again, everything worked. She didn’t have to worry about connecting plugs or power cables or anything. Suddenly, there was a large form leaning over her and Kate’s whole body went into overload. It was him! Carlo! And he was leaning over her computer. His shoulders were so broad, they blocked out the sunshine as he leaned over her computer. Kate’s skin warmed with his closeness. He accidentally brushed her arm and her whole body shivered in reaction. “Need some help?” he asked softly, his voice deep and husky. With a few snaps, her e-mail came to life. He picked up her mouse from the seat next to her and snapped that into place as well. Then he casually walked back to the other end of the conference table, leaving Kate trembling with curiosity and awareness of this incredibly attractive man. Kate watched him as he took off his suit coat and draped it on the back of a chair. Good grief! The man’s shoulders filled out that suit! There was supposed to be padding there to make his shoulders look broad but there wouldn’t be any room with those shoulders. The man looked like a body builder! Kate snapped her mouth closed and forced herself to stop staring at the man. He was talking on a cell phone but she didn’t understand anything he was saying. He wasn’t talking in a foreign language, but the numbers and references were so foreign to her she couldn’t decipher his words. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t understand him because her blood was humming in her ears after he’d gotten so close to her. And she’d seen those magnificent shoulders. “Wow”, she thought. Looking up, she noticed all three men were staring at her again. She’d done it again! “E-mail message,” she said quickly as an explanation for her outburst. Obviously she had spoken her thoughts out loud once more. She really needed to stop doing that. The man wasn’t that gorgeous, she told herself but she didn’t look up at him again to confirm that opinion, knowing he was still looking at her after her previous outburst. Kate forced him out of her mind. Peter was asking her a question about how to read some receiving reports and she concentrated on explaining the procedures and how the items were checked into the various stores. She pulled up a posting application on her computer and compared the various lines on the report she’d handed him moments before to the numbers on the screen and explained the checks and balances the store had instituted years ago to guard against employee theft. The day went by quickly and Kate spent almost all her time answering questions. She knew a great deal but when she didn’t, she knew who to call to get the information. By seven o’clock that evening, Jeff and Peter were pulling on their jackets and thanking her for her help that day. As soon as they left, Kate looked down at the other end of the conference table. “Are you going to continue working?” she asked Carlo. She had been exhausted but after Peter and Jeff left, her body had become suddenly energized, knowing that she was alone with Carlo and his gorgeous, extra broad shoulders. “Yes, but you don’t need to stay. You’re kids probably needed you home a long time ago,” he said, not even looking up from his reports. “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t have any kids.” Carlo looked up and stared at her intently. “What about your husband?” “Nope,” she said and shrugged her shoulders. She prayed he wouldn’t ask if she had a significant other. She didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t dating anyone. He probably had several women waiting at his beck and call. “Well, thanks for your help. Will you still be available tomorrow?” he asked. “Sure,” she said and smiled as she stood up, stretching her arms and yawning. “How much longer are you going to work?” she asked, unplugging her computer but noting where the various plugs went in so she could replicate the process tomorrow. “I’m wrapping things up,” he said but kept his eyes on the papers. “Okay, well, I’ll see you in the morning,” she said and closed down her computer. Kate walked out, feeling his eyes on her back the entire time. She was selfconscious for some reason. Carlo watched her leave, liking the way her hips swayed gently, giving him teasing glimpses of her petticoat with each step. She was a fascinating combination of sassy and outrageous, brilliant and intuitive. The knowledge that she was not married was going to make the next two months difficult. As soon as the due diligence was over, he knew he was going to ask her out for dinner. It was going to be a long two months, he thought as she disappeared into an office a few doors down the hallway. The Billionaire’s Terms: Prison or Passion Chapter 1 Alicia stared at her reflection in her bedroom mirror, her eyes widening in shock. “No way, Maggie. I can’t wear this,” she said to her younger sister, starting to pull the beautiful, but sexy red slip dress off her slim shoulders. She had an odd feeling something momentous was going to happen tonight and she was wondering if she wanted that to happen in such a daring dress. Maggie put her hands on her older sister’s shoulders, laughing at the horrified expression. “Yes you can. You look fabulous and I can guarantee that other people will be wearing much more revealing dresses than this. You’ll stand out if you wear something as conservative that,” she explained, her hand waving to the boring, black crepe dress Alicia had originally been planning to wear. “Besides, you don’t have an alternative. It is the only fancy dress I have and you don’t have any. Your black dress isn’t appropriate for this kind of a function. Trust me.” Alicia sighed. Her sister was right. She didn’t have any other option but it didn’t stop her hands from moving to the spaghetti straps to pull the bodice slightly higher. She was biting her lower lip in indecision, worrying about so many things that might or might not happen. The possibilities were daunting and terrifying. Sighing heavily, Alicia shook her head. “I think I’ll just skip the event,” she started to say. “Absolutely not!” Maggie said emphatically and moved around to face her sister, blocking her view of the dress in the mirror. Looking right into Alicia’s dark blue eyes, she smiled. “Alicia, this is your big night. Go out, have a good time and just relax with your friends. It is a company party, not a death sentence, so all of your co-workers will be there. It will be seen as a slight by your peers if you don’t attend.” Alicia’s shoulders drooped, knowing her sister was right. She wished she had some sort of emergency would suddenly pop up and get her out of this professional obligation. She hated going to these kinds of functions on her own. “Yes, but they all have husbands or significant others. I’ll be all alone,” she said, worried about going as well as the consequences of not going. Maggie smiled encouragingly. “You’ll be fine. Just pretend you’re royalty and they’ll all assume you know something they don’t. You’ll fascinate them.” Maggie chuckled at her sister. “Just consider this the beginning of your freedom from the past ten years. Good grief, you’ve been working at least three jobs for so long to help mom and me, no wonder you’re nervous about going out and just relaxing.” Alicia ignored her sister’s comments and peered around to inspect her image again. “Are you sure this dress isn’t too risqué?” she asked nervously. Maggie shook her head firmly. “You know it isn’t. I wore it to that dinner two weeks ago and no one even blinked. So stop worrying about it and just go out to enjoy yourself. You definitely deserve it,” she said. Accepting that Maggie wasn’t going to take no for an answer and her younger sister really did have a knack for style, Alicia laughed and hugged her sister. “Okay, you’ve taken away every one of my arguments. So I’ll go but I’m only going to make an appearance, then get right back out of there. I’m not the social butterfly like you are. You can talk to just about anyone and get their life history out of them. It’s why you’re so good at your job,” she said, referring to Maggie’s month-old job as an aide to a senator down in Washington, D.C. Maggie shook her head, denying her sister’s assertion that the social aspect of work life was too hard. “You’ll be fine. Just smile occasionally and I guarantee that the men will do the rest,” she said, eyeing her sister’s beautiful, delicate features dominated by her blue, almond shaped eyes that shone like cat eyes out of a creamy complexion that a model would die for. Throw in her lustrous brown locks that hung down to her waist, and Alicia was a stunning woman. And what’s more, she didn’t know it, nor did she care. A more selfless woman, Maggie had never known. Snapping out of her inspection, she picked up a brush. “Let’s do something with that hair, shall we?” she said and pushed Alicia into a chair so she could tackle her thick, long, brown hair that curled just slightly at the ends. “Good luck,” Alicia said grimly, but gave in to the tender ministrations of Maggie. After a half hour, Maggie had achieved a miracle. “How’s that?” she asked, stepping out of the way so Alicia could see her hair in the mirror. Instead of the thick hair that just fell in waves down her back, Maggie had pulled it all into a pony tail then curled the ends so they twirled in corkscrews down her back leaving small tendrils floating around her face. Alicia’s mouth almost fell open at the image staring back at her from the mirror. “Maggie, I can’t believe you! This is amazing,” she said, turning her face to the right and left to see the effect. “I feel like a supermodel,” she said, laughing easily. “Where did you learn to do this?” Maggie smiled and tossed the brush down onto the beaten dressing table. “In college, our study group would do each other’s hair while quizzing each other. We got into some serious competitions on both hair and grades.” Maggie was being humble. She’d received straight A’s throughout college in every single class. “Well, it worked. You’re brilliance is evident with your skills at hair styles as well as academically.” “And to top it off, here’s cab fare,” Maggie said. Alicia stared at the cash, instantly uncomfortable. “Maggie….” Her younger sister took Alicia’s hand and stuffed the bills into it, closing her fingers over it immediately. “Don’t even try it,” she admonished. “You’re not going to mess up this hairstyle by walking and I’m not letting you take the New York City subway at night, not dressed like that,” she admonished. “Besides, you put me through college and now I have a great job. Allow me to pay back some of what you sacrificed all those years for me.” Alicia opened her fingers and stared at the money, swallowing the lump in her throat as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. “You don’t have to do this,” she said. Maggie smiled gently. “Neither did you, but you did it anyway. For ten years you supported me and mom after dad’s…..” she stopped, leaving an uncomfortable pause as the two sisters pushed painful memories aside. “Well, you know,” she finished weakly. “Please, let me do this small thing for you. Take the money and have a great time tonight.” Alicia relented, grateful to her sister, hugging Maggie to show her how much she loved her. “I’ll be back early,” she said. “We’ll go out for breakfast tomorrow morning to splurge before you have to head back to Washington, D.C.” “Deal,” Maggie said, smiling broadly. Chapter 2 Adam Meyers laughed at the poor joke that had just been told while at the same time surveying the crowd, assessing the party-goers with a critical eye. The party was apparently a huge success and he should congratulate the coordinators. This year’s company spring ball had turned out nicely. Moving away from the group he’d been in to circulate further, he was scanning the crowd in search of Nancy Yost, head of Human Relations and this year’s coordinator when his eyes flew by a knockout figure encased in a stunning red dress. For a long time, Adam’s eyes just took in the luscious figure, amazed that he hadn’t seen her before now. She was surrounded by several other men so perhaps that’s the reason. He wondered which one was her date for the night. Whoever it was, the man was certainly lucky, he thought to himself. “What’s the news on the latest proposal, Adam?” Jim Lewis asked, Vice President of Business Development. Adam ignored the man talking to him, knowing that the other man was just schmoozing. Having built up his company from nothing into a multi-billion dollar conglomerate, he had no patience for people trying to flatter their way into his good graces. Actions and accomplishments were what he recognized in people. A few moments ago, Adam had been only mildly amused at the man’s ambitions but he had no problem cutting him off by turning his back on the man without any further pleasantries when the man started schmoozing. Adam rarely had time for petty chit chat. There was always something more important to discuss. He had no remorse for the man or his fawning. The woman in the red dress was all that held his interest now. Adam watched as the woman thanked her latest partner and walked off the dance floor. He was so transfixed by the woman’s movements, it took him a long time to realize that she was actually trying to leave. “Oh, no,” Adam said under his breath. “You put yourself out there, looking incredibly lovely and way too tempting. There’s no way you’re going to leave now.” Adam quickly picked up two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and moved toward the woman with single minded purpose. His employees knew better than to stop him in this mode so he was able to move towards the door unencumbered. Alicia glanced around, feeling less awkward than she had anticipated, but still wanting to leave quickly. She had arrived two hours ago and found her coworkers. They were a fun group, constantly pushing a glass of wine or champagne in her hands and filling up her plate. Unfortunately, Alicia was too nervous to eat but the wine was wonderful and she sipped it just to have something to do with her hands. Now, her head was feeling a little fuzzy and she knew it was time to leave. “Leaving so soon?” a deep voice said from behind her. Alicia turned around, smiling gently and ready to excuse herself but her mind stopped functioning when she looked up into the stranger’s face. He was, without doubt, the most gorgeous man she’d ever met in her life. He smiled down at her with dark, almost black eyes from a height of well over six feet. His shoulders were so broad, he blocked out her view of the rest of the ballroom but his smile was what caught her attention the most. It was devastating. He placed one hand under her elbow, maneuvering her so they were blocked by the wall on one side and his broad shoulders on the other. “Please say you’re not leaving. It isn’t even midnight,” he joked. “Even Cinderella stayed until then.” Alicia flushed, wishing she could come up with a witty reply. But all she could manage was a breathless, “Cinderella wasn’t up at five-thirty this morning.” He raised one eyebrow in question at her response. “What on earth were you doing up that early in the morning?” he asked, putting a hand on her arm as a couple moved by them. Each time he touched her, an electric jolt shot right through her, straight to her stomach. Alicia’s arm was on fire with his simple touch. Her skin tingled and she could only stare at his hands, wondering how she could feel so much from just a gentle, protective gesture. She looked up into his face and noticed that his eyes were waiting on a response. “Oh, just cleaning my apartment,” she said quickly, filling in the silence. One dark eyebrow went up at her reply in astonishment. “At five-thirty in the morning?” he asked. “Surely someone as beautiful as you had something much better to do that early in the morning,” he said, flashing another charming, sexy smile that instantly increased Alicia’s heart rate tenfold. Alicia told herself to snap out of her trance. She flushed, wondering what he was thinking she should be doing so early in the morning. “Well, um….not really,” she said awkwardly and took a long swallow of the ice cold champagne he’d handed her a moment ago, hoping the cold liquid would quench her suddenly dry throat. “Come dance with me,” he said, and put their glasses on a passing waiter’s tray. He didn’t wait for a response, but simply put his hand to the small of her back and guided her onto the dance floor. Alicia didn’t have the will to say no. Nor did she want to, she realized when he enfolded her gently in his strong, muscular arms. He danced wonderfully, she thought as he guided her to the music, the wine she’d drunk over the past couple of hours was relaxing her enough so she wasn’t making a complete cake of herself as this overwhelmingly gorgeous man smiled down at her. “You’re a good dancer,” she said, trying to come up with something to say. He smiled down at her, his chuckle indicating his surprise at her tone. “Why do you sound surprised?” She laughed softly. “You wouldn’t ask me that if you were my feet.” Leaning forward conspiratorially, she whispered, “The other men here tonight aren’t as talented,” she explained. “I noticed you had a large sample of them,” he said. Alicia was surprised that he’d noticed her dancing with the other men. “Yes, well, everyone has been very nice,” she said, looking over his shoulder awkwardly. Adam chuckled. “I don’t think any man holding you in his arms would like to be considered ‘nice’,” he said, his dark eyes looking into her blue ones, seeming to be able to see into her soul and know how he was affecting her blood pressure and her racing heart. Alicia blushed. “Well, you know what I mean,” she said, almost stuttering now that he was looking at her so intensely. She started to pull out of his arms. But his arms stopped her. “Oh, no, lovely one. I finally have you in my arms, I’m going to keep you here for at least one song.” Alicia smiled shyly and stopped trying to pull away. What harm could one dance have? And it was so nice to be held in his strong arms. Her fingers were lightly touching the soft material of his tuxedo but she could feel the muscles regardless. Not only was he tall and handsome, but he was built too! The song finally ended and Alicia was about to thank him for the dance and walk away, not wanting to be one of those mooning females that didn’t get the hint. But he stopped her yet again. “Come have some champagne with me,” he said, taking her hand and guiding her outside onto the deserted balcony. Alicia knew she shouldn’t be out here alone with this man. He made her think thoughts that were better left un-thought. His chiseled face and charming smile told her that he was definitely out of her league. But he wouldn’t let her go and, to be honest with herself, she didn’t want to go. She took the glass of champagne he handed her and took a long sip. “Thank you,” she said and walked to the edge of the balcony with him, looking out into the inky black sky. “What are you doing here alone?” The darkness and the champagne were making her brave. “Who says I’m alone?” she asked, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. The amusement was there in his dark, mysterious eyes. “Because if you were here with another man, then he’s a fool and I’d be asking you why you were with him. But since you’re not with someone else, answer my original question.” She disagreed, but was flattered that he thought a man would be silly to leave her alone. “Perhaps I enjoy being alone.” “Nonsense. Why would you be trying to flee the party so early?” “Because I’m tired?” she asked, hoping he would just leave it at that and move on. “You’re wide awake now,” he pointed out. Alicia took another long swallow of her drink and looked up at him. He really was incredibly handsome and made her stomach flutter with his dark look that promised secrets that only he could give her. “I think that has more to do with the company than with my physical state.” “I’m flattered,” he said and clinked her glass. “The next question is, why don’t you have a boyfriend?” Alicia drank the rest of her glass nervously. How could she admit to this handsome and incredibly sophisticated man that she had been too busy waitressing and working retail to pay for her sister’s college and her mother’s mortgage to have any life up until a few weeks ago? And then it occurred to her. She was twenty-six years old and was now free of some overwhelming burdens. Why couldn’t she just relax and have a little fun? Especially with this man? What harm could a little flirtation have? She knew it was the alcohol talking but she didn’t care. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and she faced him fully, not wanting to appear skittish anymore. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” she countered back, coming out of her normally shy state to challenge the man. “You’re handsome and probably smart, although I don’t have any evidence of that at this point. Surely you could charm some lady to keep you company.” His eyebrows went up at her change in demeanor but he liked the change. “Who says I’m here alone?” Alicia smiled and threw his answer right back at him. “Because if you were here with another woman, then she’s a fool and I’d be asking you why you were with her.” Adam threw back his head and laughed. “Touché,” he replied. “But men don’t want clingy women.” “And women like clingy men? That’s very sexist of you, sir.” She looked startled. “I’m sorry, I’ve been standing here talking to you and dancing with you but I have no idea what your name is. I’m Alicia,” she said, her smile widening at the realization that she’d been with this man for almost forty-five minutes and didn’t even know his name. “The name’s Adam, and in men, it is called being protective, not clingy. And I never denied being a sexist,” he replied with an unrepentant grin. She smothered a laugh. “Well, Adam, that’s very disappointing. I would have thought you were a modern man with more current views.” “Sorry to disappoint you,” he said and took another glass of champagne from a passing waiter, handing it to her. Alicia smiled her thanks and looked up at him, definitely relaxed now. In fact, she felt almost as if she were floating on a cloud. She wasn’t sure if it was the champagne or the gorgeous man in front of her, blatantly flirting with her but she didn’t really care. She felt better than she had in a long time and she didn’t want that feeling to end. “I doubt you’d ever be able to disappoint a woman,” she said, then realized what she’d said. Straightening awkwardly, she was grateful that the darkness hid the fierce blush staining her cheeks. “I mean….um…well,” she stuttered, completely flustered. Adam just smiled wickedly and leaned forward so he was whispering in her ear. “I’ve had no complaints so far,” he said quietly, his lips brushing her earlobe, causing a shiver to race down her body and her breath to stop in her throat. “Yes, well,” she said breathily, all thoughts leaving her head completely at his touch. She cleared her throat and took another long sip of the bubbly liquid, staring at the button in the middle of his shirt front, hoping he didn’t feel the tremor that shook her whole body. “I’ll take your word for it,” she whispered and took another long swallow of wine. “What? No challenge back?” Adam said, moving closer, so close she had to move her glass to her side or her hand would be touching his shirt. He took her glass and put it behind her on the cement banister. “Adam,” she whispered, “this probably isn’t the best place to do this,” she said, but her eyes looked up to his, hoping he would kiss her so she would know what it felt like. His lips seemed firm and commanding, as if he could will her to kiss him back. “Adam!” a shrill voice said from the balcony doorway interrupting whatever was about to happen. Alicia jumped back, uncomprehending of what sort of freakish animal had interrupted their darkness and aborted their kiss. Adam’s mouth twisted into a grim smile and she felt his hands tighten slightly on her waist. “Caught,” he whispered before he released her and turned to greet whoever had found their private spot. “Good evening, Martha. How are you tonight?” he asked, putting an arm around Alicia and greeting the woman with a smile. They chatted with the woman and a few others who wandered out to the balcony for several minutes. Finally, Adam excused them and pulled Alicia back into the ballroom, bringing her closer into his arms and looking down at her as he started dancing again. “I’m guessing you didn’t want to talk to them?” Alicia said, her body melting into his strong, powerful one. “No,” Adam replied, his eyes heavy lidded as he took in her features one by one. “I don’t want to talk.” His voice was deep and husky, leaving no miscommunication as to what he wanted. “Ah,” was all she could say, licking her lips as a dangerous thrill shot through her with his look. She simply smiled up into his sexy eyes, elated that he wanted to be with her instead of some other more glamorous or sophisticated woman. The look he gave her made her feel powerful and sexy, but very feminine, and his hand moving along her spine sent shivers throughout her body she couldn’t hide from his knowing touch. “Come with me tonight,” he said. Alicia’s smile widened, feeling very feminine with the knowledge that he wanted her. It was such a novel experience, she wanted to savor it. She also knew she couldn’t do anything about it. “No, I don’t believe I’m the one-nightstand kind of woman,” she said, but again, she was overjoyed that he would offer. “Who says it has to be a one night stand?” he asked, twirling her and keeping her slightly off balance so she had to lean into him to stay on her feet. Alicia laughed throatily, wondering how she could feel so secure in his arms while at the same time feel so nervous about what he was proposing. “Adam, don’t kid yourself. Although I’m flattered, I’m definitely not your type.” He smiled charmingly as he pulled her closer into a spin on the dance floor. “What’s my type?” “Hmmm….models, actresses, social women who know how to play the game. I don’t fit into any of those categories, unfortunately.” “Why unfortunately?” “Because I’m thinking you would be a wonderful lover,” she sighed, smiling up at him, unsure where she gathered the courage to flirt like this. She’d always been incredibly reserved around men. Tonight was different, her mind accepting the crazy feelings racing through her. Whatever the reason, she shook her head when he smiled. “But you’re determined to not find out, aren’t you?” he said. “That’s correct,” she said and slid her hand up around his shoulders, her fingers delicately touching his soft, black hair. “But I thank you for making me feel beautiful tonight. You definitely are just the boost my confidence needed.” Alicia didn’t realize it, but he had casually danced them over to another balcony, this one on the side that was shrouded in darkness. As soon as they were close, Adam took her gently by the hand and led her out into the cool night. The Sheik’s Love Child Chapter 1 The lightning flashed outside as an electric storm huddled over Danibe, the capitol city of Basir. Every once in a while, the thunder would boom, sometimes causing the glasses on the table to shake precipitously. The mood inside the elaborately decorated room within the palace of Basir matched the ferociousness of the outside storm. Kalil Asidua Benoit the Third, Sheik of Basir sat at the end of the highly polished wooden table and listened as the angry voices argued across the table, some men standing up in their efforts to be heard, angry fists and pointing fingers. “Enough,” Kalil said, his black, intense gaze taking in every man in the room to see if any would challenge him. None dared. The moment he spoke, silence descended on the group and twenty pairs of eyes turned to look at him expectantly. “I’ve heard both sides of this argument and I believe we should move forward with the purchase,” he said firmly. Turning to Jasir, his personal secretary who shadowed him almost always, he said, “Make the arrangements to travel to London. We’ll leave tomorrow afternoon.” Without another word, he stood up to leave and twenty men also rose hurriedly to their feet as well, protocol dictating that no one sat when the Crown Prince was not sitting. Without a backwards glance, Kalil left the room, his thoughts immediately moving on to the next meeting and the issues it would present. “What’s next, Jasir?” Kalil asked, walking quickly down the hallway. Jasir had to rush to keep up with the prince. Jasir was a small man, only five feet six inches which made it difficult to keep up with the man he served who was nine inches taller and was much more muscular which meant Kalil’s strong body ate up the distance wherever he went. Slightly out of breath already, Jasir consulted his schedule. “You have a one o’clock meeting with the Minister of the Interior, then a two o’clock meeting with your father. Also, your mother has requested your presence at dinner tonight,” he said but this last was delivered with more hesitancy. “Will my fiancée be there?” he asked. Jasir nodded but because Kalil was already three feet ahead of him, Kalil couldn’t see the affirmation. “Yes, Your Highness.” “And will my brother?” Kalil asked, stopping with one hand on the door to the conference room. “I don’t believe he will be,” Jasir said. Kalil thought for only a moment. “Be sure Jasim is in attendance.” Kalil disappeared into the room, leaving Jasir to follow or take care of the order for dinner. Five hours later, Kalil walked into the family dining room. He immediately noted the tension between the two other occupants and smiled slightly. “Fighting again, Jasim? And with such a lovely lady?” he asked, walking over to where Jalla was standing by a sofa looking flushed and aggravated. “I’d never argue with such loveliness,” Jasim said but there was an edge to his voice as he replied, betraying the truth behind his words. Jalla ignored Jasim’s dig and turned to smile gently up at Kalil. “How are you tonight?” she asked, accepting the kiss Kalil bestowed on her hand. “Very well, and you?” Kalil returned with equal civility. “Fine, thank you,” she said evenly but Kalil didn’t miss the glare she shot over to Jasim as if to challenge her assertion that she was fine. “Am I missing something?” Kalil asked in a steady voice and walked over to the bar to pour himself a drink. “Nothing at all,” Jasim said. “How is that new stallion that arrived yesterday?” he asked, changing the subject. Kalil and Jasim talked about horses until their parents arrived. The dinner was uneventful and afterwards, Kalil walked Jalla down the hallway to the suite of rooms she used whenever she stayed within the palace. Jalla had grown up in the palace and had been named Kalil’s betrothed at birth. Kalil knew that they would work out well together once they were married, although he suspected she would be happier with his younger brother. “Why don’t you want to set a date for the wedding?” she asked when they’d reached the doors to her suite. Kalil smiled benignly down into her soft brown eyes. “Because I don’t think it is the right time,” Kalil said, standing in front of her and taking her hands in his. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” he asked. Jalla’s eyes clouded over and she started to speak, only to stop and shake her head. “No. I was just hoping to start our marriage and give you the children you need for the future.” Kalil smiled gently down at her. “That is very generous of you but the time will be right for your wedding soon enough. I promise.” With those words, he lifted her hand and kissed her gently on the fingers. Then stepped away to wait until she was safely inside her suite. Chapter 2 Quickly unlocking the door, Dani dropped her small bag of groceries onto the counter and grabbed the ringing phone. Groaning loudly in frustration, she forced herself to ignore the broken egg that oozed out of the carton and stepped back so the mess wouldn’t get onto her shoes. It had been a long day and all she wanted to do was curl up in the corner of her sofa and read a good book. Some instinct told her not to answer the phone. But the insistent sound forced her to answer it only so it would stop. “Hello?” she asked, out of breath from rushing up the narrow staircase and pushing the brown curls off her face and out of the way. “Danielle? It’s Mike down at the restaurant. I hope you don’t have plans tonight because I need you to fill in for Chuck.” Dani looked at the clock on the mantle and her groceries on the floor. She wished she could say no but she really needed the extra money for the wedding. Biting her lip in indecision, she stared around at her empty apartment. The mystery she’d been reading the previous night lay open on the chipped coffee table and she knew that the only thing she had in her refrigerator to eat was bread, ketchup and now some broken eggs. “Okay, what time do you need me?” she asked, pushing her fatigue and hunger to the back of her mind. She told herself that whatever she could scrounge up to eat at the restaurant would be much better than what she would eat here at home. Mike let out a whoosh of relief. “Thanks, Dani! I promise you won’t regret this. I’ll put in an extra few pounds for you. Can you be here in an hour?” he asked. Dani nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Sure. I’ll be there. What’s the occasion?” Closing her blue eyes against the sight of the beaten up but comfortable couch, she resigned herself to a night of being on her feet and smiling at people she didn’t particularly like. “I don’t know. I just know that Chuck, the guy normally scheduled to work tonight, didn’t pass the background check and so I submitted your name and you passed, of course,” he chuckled. “Background check?” Dani didn’t like the sound of that. It sounded a little invasive. It was just waitressing work. Why in the world would a background check be required, she wondered. “Yeah, there’s some big shin dig with a lot of dignitaries here tonight. I don’t know anything else since they wouldn’t tell me more but everyone working tonight had to have a quick background check.” “Interesting,” she said, but she didn’t really think so. In fact, she wasn’t even mildly curious. “I’ll give you the bar so it will be easier tonight,” he said, letting her know she’d be bar tending instead of serving food which was more difficult. “Thanks, Mike. I’ll be there in an hour,” she replied unenthusiastically. “You’re a doll!” he exclaimed and rung off. Dani picked up the groceries that had fallen from the counter to the floor and sighed heavily. The last thing she wanted to do after a full week of teaching first graders was to mind the bar, pouring drinks for spoiled, wealthy clientele but if it would mean a little extra money, she was all for it. Every pound she saved brought her that much closer to her wedding date. She and Mark had dated for a year and almost engaged for another six months but he didn’t want to commit to a wedding date until they had enough to pay for the wedding themselves. She loved him but didn’t understand his desire to pay for an elaborate wedding they could ill afford. She was a school teacher and he an accountant so it wasn’t as if either of them could afford the extravagance. In her mind, it made more sense to work towards buying a small house. She was fine with this small apartment but it only had one bedroom. Dani wanted to have children as soon as possible and it would be difficult if they were still living in a small, one bedroom apartment. Mark had his own place which was even smaller than hers so neither was a good option for having children. Dani wished Mark felt the same way about kids. She didn’t understand his need to have things financially secure before venturing out into something. They both had steady jobs and a bright future so what exactly did he consider ‘financial security’? Didn’t he know that kids needed love and security much more than they needed fancy clothes and designer shoes? Dani quickly put her groceries away and changed for her evening. Since her hair was already pulled back from her day of teaching, she just pulled on a pair of black slacks, white, starched shirt and carried the requisite tie in her purse as she rode the subway to the posh restaurant. “Thank goodness you’re here,” Mike said as soon as she walked into his office. “The guests are already arriving so you’ll have to hurry. I’ve checked the bar and put in extra supplies,” he said, his face red with worry and exertion. Then he stopped a moment to look at her. “You look fantastic, by the way. No one would think you were a school teacher,” he joked, looking over her black and white uniform that barely hid her voluptuous figure and slim hips. But it wasn’t really her petite, curvy frame that made men stop and stare. It was her eyes. She had the most incredible blue eyes that captured and held onto an observer. They were surrounded by long, black lashes and high cheekbones with the most incredible translucent skin. Mike reminded himself that he was a married man and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was distracted,” he said shortly and turned away. “Follow me and I’ll help you set up the bar for the night. “What’s going on?” she asked again as he hurried her into the private dining room. As soon as she walked through the kitchen, the smell of roasting beef and chicken mixed in with garlic and butter struck her with the powerful aroma. Her stomach started protesting her lack of dinner and she grabbed a dinner roll to tide her over until she could grab something more substantial. Mike picked up a roll himself and took a bite, shaking his head in response to her question. “I don’t know and I don’t care. If I survive tonight, I’ll count myself lucky,” he whispered. She was about to ask why he was so nervous but then she saw the tall, serious men standing on the outside of the private dining room, their backs against the mahogany doors. “Who are they?” she asked, feeling like she was being watched as she walked through the dining room doors. They looked to Mike before they moved out of the way, holding the door for her politely. “Guards,” he said and left her standing in the middle of the dining room alone as he hurried off to ensure that the kitchen staff was organized. Dani didn’t understand the worry. The restaurant regularly hosted many dignitaries, even heads of state on occasion. Dani had never worked those dinners since they were during the week usually but she’d heard about them. She only worked on Friday and Saturday nights, reserving the other evenings for preparing or reviewing her lesson plans. She was able to sleep in on Saturday and Sunday mornings so she didn’t mind the fatigue. It meant she didn’t get to see Mark as often as she’d like though. That concerned her a little, she thought as she slipped behind the beautifully carved and polished bar, organizing the bottles for quick service. Within five minutes, she had several men lined up demanding drinks. She quickly and efficiently served them their cocktails and so it went for over an hour. Dani had no idea what was being discussed since they were speaking in Arabic or some other Middle Eastern language she couldn’t even guess at. She kept her head bent most of the time searching for bottles anyway. She wasn’t sure, but she sensed that several of them were talking about her. A small part of her wished they would move on and conduct their conversations somewhere else but the night became too busy to be worried about a couple of rude men who leered at her. She was busily searching for the tonic water when a sudden silence fell over the room. A loud voice seemed to announce something. But since it was still in another language, she just continued to search for the extra bottles of tonic. Everyone around bowed just as Dani stood up victoriously, a large grin spreading across her rosebud lips. Her blue eyes looked around, trying to figure out what was going on and why it became quiet so suddenly when her eyes slashed across the room, right into the eyes of the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. Dani’s smile of victory quickly dissolved as the man’s eyebrow went up and he looked over at her. She felt as if she were being stripped naked. His eyes took in her starched shirt that was now pulled tightly across her voluptuous breasts and her slacks that fit her slim hips, tapering down to her ankles. She didn’t know it, but her eyes were doing the same inventory and he definitely didn’t come up lacking. Every line of his body and face showed his arrogance, his absolute command and Dani was struck with the most bizarre feeling in her stomach. He was extremely tall, well over a head taller than every other man in the room. His shoulders were broad, tapering to hips that didn’t hold a bit of flab anywhere. Glancing back to his face, she noted the stern mouth, square jaw line and eyes that sharpened with interest as she continued her perusal. When she realized what she was doing, her face flushed and she glanced down at the floor, too embarrassed at being caught in such an awkward position. Slowly, the rest of the room stood up and her view of the man was blocked. She felt a small sense of relief, as if she’d been held captive by the intensity of his dark eyes. A shudder went through her and she shook her head at her fanciful notions. Looking down, she realized that she was gripping the bottle of tonic water as if her life depended on it. The men who had been waiting on their drinks before the man’s entry turned to face the bar again and continued their conversation as if nothing of great importance had just occurred. A few minutes later, the men all migrated towards the large table with the gorgeous man at the head. The wait staff hurried in, quickly serving the men and thankfully, the wine staff came in directly behind them and served the wine, giving Dani a chance to breathe. It was almost two o’clock in the morning when the men finally started leaving. Dani was feeling as if she could pass out from fatigue any moment since she’d been up since five o’clock that morning and had taught a group of thirty children all day. Her feet ached and her eyes felt as if there was sandpaper in them. “You’ve done well,” a deep voice said. Dani glanced up and all her fatigue seemed to disappear. Here was the man and he was actually speaking to her. It was the first time all evening someone had spoken directly to her that wasn’t a drink order. “Th…thank you,” she said nervously and dropped her eyes to the polished wooden bar. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked politely. “Only if you’ll join me,” he replied. Dani’s eyes shot right back to his. “Oh, well…no, I’m sorry but I can’t,” she explained. “Of course you can,” he countered. “Just pour yourself a glass and come around to the other side,” he said and added a devastating smile to his words. Dani’s stomach started that flipping-fluttering thing again, making her feel slightly queasy. “No…I mean, thank you very much for the offer but it is against the rules,” she said. “But I would be more than happy to serve you anything you’d like.” After a long moment, the man replied, “And if it is you I would like? Would you serve me?” Dani actually took a step backwards and gasped. demanded. “Excuse me?” she The man smiled. “I’m guessing that you are not being offered as dessert,” he replied. “I apologize if I’ve offended you. But please, come have a glass of wine. You look like you are exhausted. I guarantee you will not be fired.” Dani shook her head. “No, thank you,” she replied stiffly. The man didn’t take offense at her cool tone but stood up and actually came around to the back of the bar. “Sit,” he ordered and Dani was shocked to find herself obeying his order. She plunked herself down on the bar stool and glared at him. The effort only caused him to chuckle and the sound soothed her ruffled feathers more than his apology. “Again, I apologize for offending you.” He poured a glass of white wine and placed it in front of her before turning to pour some bourbon into a glass for himself. When he was done, he came around to the other side and sat down in the bar stool next to her. They were the only ones left except for the guards who she noticed were standing sentry right outside the double doors that stood slightly ajar. “What is your name?” he asked. “Danielle,” she said. “And yours?” The man looked surprised but only smiled slightly. “You may call me Kalil,” he said and his dark eyes looked directly into her blue ones. “I’m surprised your husband would allow you to work this late.” Dani laughed. “After I’m married, I don’t think I’d allow my husband to allow me to do anything,” she said, taking a sip of the excellent white wine, allowing the cold liquid to slide easily down her throat. “So you are not married?” he said, looking surprised by that announcement. “That seems hard to believe.” “Well, I’m almost engaged,” she said and looked down at her glass, unable to hold his gaze. There was a long pause. “You’re boyfriend is not worthy of you,” he replied. Dani flushed. “Mark is a very nice man,” she countered. Kalil just laughed softly. “Any woman who describes her almost fiancé as ‘nice’ is not in love with him.” Dani’s eyes shot up to him. “What do you know of love?” she challenged. “I’m sure you imagine your wife sitting at home, counting the minutes until you arrive to enliven her life with your presence but some of us have our own lives and live it just fine,” Kalil smiled at her description. “As yet, I am not married either. But I hope the woman I choose to marry will indeed love me to the point of counting the minutes until I arrive at her side.” “Are you going to do the same?” “No.” “Why not?” “Because it is different for a man,” he replied, amused by her challenge. “It is different for you, perhaps. But the man I marry will be so in love with me that he will be counting the minutes when I’m away,” she said. “And does your Mark?” he asked, “count the minutes, that is, until he sees you?” Dani just glared at him. She couldn’t lie because she knew that Mark was out with his friends tonight playing cards. He was probably still up doing just that and not thinking of her. Kalil laughed again. “You see? It is different for a man. But perhaps he is not the love of your life?” “How dare you say that?” she said, but the heat was gone from her voice. “I dare,” he said and his hand moved to touch her forearm. Dani’s indrawn breath was audible and her shocked eyes shot back to his, her arm moving quickly away from his touch but her face flamed to color. It was as if an electric current was shooting through her system, melting her insides and burning her skin. The moment was broken by one of the guards leaning into the room and saying something quickly in Arabic. Kalil responded and sighed. “I’m sorry my dear but I must take this phone call. We’ll continue this discussion when I return,” he said and stood up, walking out of the room with the determined stride of someone who had been in charge for a long time. Dani was so shaken by his touch, she was almost shivering. Wait for him to come back? She thought not! Dani jumped off of the bar stool and ran out of the room as if she was being chased by demons. She made her way through the kitchens, grabbed her purse from her locker and left by the back way. The Sheik’s Unfinished Business Chapter 1 The sun was hot and the humidity within the city was oppressive. The moist, irritating air caused the heavy traffic pollution to diabolically mix with the various scents coming from the diverse restaurants along the street adding to the other odors that were distinctly city oriented to hover in the air. All of this was now pressing down on the people walking along the sidewalk as if it were a heavy blanket with no hope of relenting any time soon. Just like that first day, Victoria Phillips thought to herself. The horrifying thought startled her and she suddenly stopped in her tracks, terrified of those memories. “No!” she said out loud and shivered, not wanting any of those feelings to come back into her mind now. “This is ridiculous!” She pushed herself harder, walking as if a demon were on her back in an effort to reach the school where she was a guidance counselor for an elementary school. She maneuvered in between the others that were also hurrying to their own destinations, unaware of her surroundings as she fought to keep those dreadful memories at bay. Why was she even thinking about that day again? Five years ago, she’d worked hard to eliminate all that pain from her system. Why was it coming back now? Probably because she was late, she told herself, just like that morning so long ago and she was rushing. Victoria looked around, searching for a long, dark car that would indicate that the past was going to repeat itself. When she saw the car parked in front of the school, her steps faltered and her breath caught in her throat. It couldn’t be! Blinking hard, she opened her eyes once again and stared in front of her, sure that her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the elegant limousine didn’t disappear. It sat there, ominously mocking her as if it were a giant snake about to reach out and attack her with a venomous bite. She almost dropped her heavy bag and ran the other way. The severe pain ripping through her heart was almost as intense as it had been on that embarrassing day five years ago. When a tall, dark man with a muscular frame got out of the car, she gasped as the painful memories came flooding back to her. Sure enough, there he was. And, impossibly, he was bigger and more handsome than she remembered him. Five Years earlier A taxi sped by, his horn blaring at some perceived offense, then drove past, leaving the smell of exhaust permeating the earth in its wake. Victoria pulled her thick brown hair off her neck, wishing she’d taken a few more minutes that morning to pin up the heavy curtain of soft, brown curls. But after spending most of the previous night in the library studying, she hadn’t wanted to wake up early enough to take the time to do anything more than shower and change before heading off to her morning classes. Her green, almond shaped eyes looked up at the sky, noting the red disk of the fiery sun. That was never a good sign, she thought. She remembered her father’s saying, “Red sun at night, sailor’s delight. Red sun in morning, sailor’s take warning.” What warning they would take, she wasn’t sure. He never went further than just quoting the phrase. She suspected that it meant they would have a hot, humid, unpleasant day. Just like today was starting out to be. She pulled her hair over her shoulder, trying to give her back some relief from the heat. Since she’d been so rushed earlier, she was paying the price since her hair was sticking to her neck and her sundress, which had seemed such a pretty, lively and more importantly, cool choice earlier in the day. The dress was unfortunately covering her legs which could be the grateful recipient of what little breeze was available if she’d chosen her normal choice of shorts and a teeshirt. Hefting her heavy bag of books more securely onto her shoulder, she hurried on to her class, wishing she didn’t have to travel so far through London. Unfortunately, her tiny dorm room was on the opposite side of the campus from her class and there was nothing to do for it but walk faster or be late. She was hurrying through the others on the concrete sidewalk with her head bowed low in an effort to keep the sun off her face and out of her eyes so she didn’t see the limousine pull up beside the tall building. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a door open and a tall man get out, surrounded by other men who were shorter, but scarier looking. Unfortunately, even those nebulous thoughts didn’t enter into her mind quickly enough. She was walking too fast with a book bag that was too heavy, leaving her off balance so when the men started walking into the building, she wasn’t able to stop herself fast enough. As if in slow motion, Victoria saw her bag slip from her shoulder, then the arm swing wide, knocking her chin and tossing her to her knees. The sudden burst of pain came from several directions all at once. She could feel the cement dig into the soft skin of her knees as she slid across the rough surface, then the pain entered the palms of her hands while she tried to keep her face from a similar fate as her knees. Both palms were subjected to the same rough surface but even that wasn’t her primary pain. Her jaw was suddenly aching as if it had been lit on fire, then the throbbing told her that she’d been hit for some bizarre reason. Her confused eyes looked around, trying to identify the source and reason for the strike but nothing in the world made sense to her painfogged brain. As all of these sensations were tallied in her brain, a distant crying sound penetrated and that was the only issue she was able to deal with at the moment. Looking around, her eyes searched for and found the little girl who was now clinging to her mother’s leg. Victoria stood up, ignoring the pain that shot through her hands, knees and face with the effort. Going over to the little girl, she smiled, battling the sharp stab of pain from her jaw and bent down to the child’s level. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Victoria said calmly. “I’m okay. Are you hurt?” she asked. The mother also bent down to reassure her daughter and after several moments, the two of them were able to calm the child enough so that she was smiling again. “What’s your name?” Victoria asked, when the child had overcome her crying. “Lucy,” the girl said, wiping her chubby cheek with the back of her hand. Victoria smiled gently, enchanted by the little tyke. “Lucy, I hope you have a very nice rest of the day and I think you are extremely sweet to be concerned for me.” The little girl, who had to be no more than five or six years old, reached out a chubby hand and gently touched Victoria’s face. “Does it hurt?” she asked. She noticed the little girl looking over Victoria’s shoulder shyly but she kept her attention solely on Lucy and the child’s anxiety. Victoria wasn’t sure who was behind her and hid her curiosity well from Lucy, preferring to deal with one problem at a time. “Not really. I’m made of pretty tough stuff,” she said, grinning broadly for Lucy’s benefit. The mother smiled at Victoria, then at her daughter. “See? Everything is okay. Are you ready to go home to see daddy? He should be back by now.” Lucy smiled, eager to see her father and obviously relieved that no one was hurt. The child took her mother’s hand and continued with their walk home, obviously eager to tell her father about their incident of the day. Victoria heard the small child chattering away but the only words that she was able to understand were “scary men” before she was out of hearing distance. Victoria stood up and all the pain she’d been pushing to the back of her brain came rushing forward. Her knees, palms and especially her face were suddenly aching intensely and she wanted to melt down into the cement and lean her sore body against the building. But she knew that the little girl wasn’t the only one that needed reassurance and she forced herself to find the inner strength to face her other audience. Turning slowly, she tried to bring up another smile for the strangers she knew where standing behind her, hoping to reassure them so she could stop being a spectacle. But the sight that greeted her when she turned around was too much. The tall, dark man standing directly behind her, holding her book bag in one hand and reaching for her right hand with the other, was possibly the most handsome man she’d ever seen, even from the movies. “Are you sure you are okay?” the tall, incredibly gorgeous man asked. He was at least six feet three inches tall, towering over the other men around him. And although they were bulkier, he was extremely muscular himself. His eyes were dark, almost black as was his hair which was cut short, barely brushing the collar of his shirt. Victoria’s only thought was that he had a lovely accent and spoke perfect, precise English. The next thing she knew, she was watching the building swing around her and the sky was blinding her as her mind started spinning, twirling around and her eyes stopped focusing. Then nothing but darkness. Dharr Hokum Qudama the third, Sheik of Ashir, the most powerful middle eastern country with oil reserves beyond the imagination, found himself at a loss for the first time in his life as the stunningly beautiful woman in front of him slowly started falling to the earth. With reflexes honed from long hours in military training and an innate sense that women should be protected at all costs, he caught the fainting woman in his arms, easily lifting her up and cradling her as his body guards opened the door to the building he had been about to enter only minutes earlier for business meetings. As he stared down into her lovely face, he was startled by the perfection of her features. He knew her now closed eyes were a sharp, crystal green. Now that he could no longer see her eyes, he noticed the flawlessness of her skin that was pale white now but a moment before had been tinted with peach color on her high cheekbones. Her eye lashes were long and black as they lay against her skin and he wondered if they were covered in mascara. He didn’t think so. They looked natural but too long to be real. Her hair was incredible, the soft, brown curls falling like a cascade of water almost to the ground as he held her close to his chest. He wanted to run his fingers in the curls just to see if they were really as soft to the touch as they looked but he didn’t have a free hand at the moment. Shifting her slight weight in his arms, he tried to be the gentleman and not notice her petite figure but he was a man and any male with blood running through his veins would notice her. Her breasts were large for her small frame but she had a tiny waist and slender hips topping off long, shapely legs. It was the kind of figure a woman would spend hours in the gym trying to achieve, he knew. Pushing thoughts of her physical assets to the side, he lifted her more closely to him, enjoying the way she felt, as if she were meant to be just for him. “To the hospital,” Dharr commanded and all five of his body guards retreated back to either the limousine or the waiting black SUV that was parked in front of the building. Within moments, the limousine pulled up in front of the emergency room where a doctor was standing by, obviously alerted to the situation by one of the guards phoning ahead and prepared to help in any way he could. Stepping out of the limousine, he refused to transfer her figure to the waiting gurney. Instead, he walked into one of the empty examining rooms before gently laying her onto one of the hospital beds. “What is wrong with her?” Dharr demanded of the doctor who was checking the prone woman’s pulse and eyes. “Don’t hurt her!” Dharr said when she started to moan softly. Dharr liked the way she moved, even when coming out of a dead faint. She was graceful as her body slowly came back to consciousness and he watched in fascination as those lovely green eyes blinked and focused. It was odd that a man with his reputation with women, someone who could, and did, have any woman he desired with the flick of his wrist, was so entranced by this one, young, lovely woman who wasn’t even wearing makeup or designer clothes. Even so, his body was instantly reacting to hers, appreciating the innocent sensuality that she conveyed with her movements. The doctor was monitoring her resumption of consciousness and nodded approvingly. “I think she is okay although she has some nasty scrapes on her knees.” The doctor stepped back and watched for a moment, carefully checking for any signs of problems as she looked around the sterile emergency room that was cut off from the rest of the area only by a white sheet. “Her pulse is normal. She probably just stood up too quickly or hasn’t eaten in too long,” he suggested. Victoria listened to the deep voices around her but tried not to move, afraid that the pain she was feeling in her jaw and legs would intensify. All she could understand is that she was in a white room with two men looking down at her. She had no idea how she’d gotten here or why they were looking so concerned. Actually, the man who was obviously a doctor if his white coat and stethoscope were any indication, was not looking concerned any longer. But the handsome man beside him was definitely worried. “What’s wrong?” she croaked, then wondered why her voice was so strange. The pain that shot through her jaw when she spoke also was bizarre. “You fainted,” the handsome man replied, moving the doctor out of the way. “Are you okay?” he asked, bending down to look at her face, taking her hand in his and checking her pulse himself. Victoria was confused by the concern that was showing in the man’s eyes but his lips were compressed as if he were angry with her for some reason. “Yes,” she replied, then tried to sit up. “I’m fine,” she said, but then the dizziness came back and she grimaced, trying to keep her head from spinning by placing her hand on her forehead. As soon as she tried to sit up, his hand touched her shoulder, keeping her laying flat on the bed. “You must relax for another moment. No sudden moves until the doctor has said you are okay,” the man replied. The heat that went through Victoria’s body when he touched her frightened her enough that she actually shrank back against the bed, unsure of herself and the man. “Where am I?” she asked, naturally turning to the taller man who had a commanding presence, giving off an aura of authority that just ignited the air around her. She tried to smile to give the man the impression she was okay but she wasn’t sure if it worked. “You’re in a hospital,” he explained gently. Victoria didn’t like that word at all. Hospitals meant money. Lots of it. That was one thing she didn’t have, being at school on a scholarship. “The hospital?” she yelped, sitting up quickly and evading the man’s hand while swinging off the bed on one graceful movement. Unfortunately, the sudden movement had her swaying again and the man’s hands reached out to steady her. “Whoa!” she said, holding onto the bed, praying she wouldn’t make a fool of herself again and pass out. After several minutes, the room stopped spinning and she was able to make sense of the words being spoken. “….sit back down,” the tall man was saying firmly. Victoria turned her attention back to him, a frown on her face. “Excuse me?” she asked, looking him up and down as if he were beneath her. Unfortunately, the idea of what a hospital visit would do to her budget was making her a little snappish. She didn’t have the money to toss at a series of doctors and needed to leave as soon as possible. In her current state of mind, this tall, attractive man was the main hindrance from her leaving as quickly as she could. Besides the expense of the hospital, he was actually ordering her around. She didn’t like that one bit. She wasn’t even used to her gentle father giving her orders, she surely wasn’t going to take them from a stranger who thought he was in charge of the world. “Who do you think you are? I don’t take orders from you, sir. Not even if you were the Prince of Wales,” she sniffed. Handsome or not, she hated arrogant men! And this one could give lessons. Dharr was shocked enough to almost smile. Almost. How could a tiny slip of a woman speak to him like this? Didn’t she know who he was? The doctor obviously did if the horrified look on his face was any indication. Surely it was the novelty of the whole situation that amused him. He would never permit such conduct otherwise, he told himself. Dharr waved the doctor’s protests aside before they could be spoken. “How about something to clean those scrapes,” he said, turning to the doctor and interrupting what was probably an explanation as to why the woman shouldn’t speak to Dharr this way. For some reason, Dharr didn’t want his anonymity broken. And what Dharr wanted, he got. The doctor immediately disappeared, leaving the two of them alone. Victoria stared at the man, wondering what to do next. She realized that her manners were severely lacking and knew that her mother would be horrified if she didn’t make amends. Smiling brightly to the man, she stuck out her hand, then grimaced as she saw the ugly scrapes on the palms. “I guess I should introduce myself,” she started off, hiding her hands from his concerned view. “I’m Victoria Phillips. How do you do?” she said. She extended the least abused hand, which, thankfully, was her right one. Dharr stared at the hand for a split second before accepting it. The normal introduction would be for her to bow slightly before him but, continuing with the novelty of the situation, he took her hand in his, enfolding her cold, slim, scraped hand in his large one, covering it with the other and taking a step towards her. “It is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Phillips. I am Dharr Qudama, at your service. I regret the incident which caused you to be in this position. I will endeavor to make it up to you,” he said. “What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes wide as she looked up into his dark, intense gaze. “It was my man who caused your fall. He was acting with an overzealous sense of duty and will be eliminated immediately from my guard.” Victoria was horrified. “You mean you’re going to fire him?” “Of course,” he said, not an ounce of regret or emotion showing on his tanned face. She didn’t like being responsible for anyone losing their job. It was a tough economy and anyone fired would have a hard time finding a new position. “But why?” Dharr reached up and gently touched a finger to the already darkening spot on her jaw. “Such beauty should not be marred, Ms. Phillips.” Victoria stuttered, flustered by this man’s touch and confused as to why his touch could cause so much tumult within her system when other men’s touch just caused irritation. She was also unsure of what this man represented but sure he was powerful and could genuinely hurt the guard’s chances of continued employment. “But if he is on your staff, shouldn’t you train him more thoroughly? I mean, really, if he acted inappropriately, isn’t it your fault? Shouldn’t you give him a second chance?” Dharr actually smiled this time. It was too much. He was constantly surrounded by people vying for power and positions close to him, thereby making themselves more powerful in their associations with him. But here was an innocent woman begging for a stranger’s continued employment. A stranger who could have broken her jaw if his swing had been any harder. What she didn’t know was that Dharr’s personal guard was the elite of the Ashiri military, specially trained for years before they are even considered to be close to Dharr. These men were trained in arms, munitions and personal combat but here was a woman weighing maybe a little more than one hundred pounds and might reach five and a half feet tall protecting a man she’d never met. " The doctor returned to the closed off area with cleaning supplies and Dharr took them, dismissing the man with a nod. As he prepared a sterile gauze to start the cleaning, he asked, “You protect a man who wounded you. Yet you know nothing about him. Why would you do that?” “Well,” Victoria thought hard, knowing she had to come up with a reason why the man shouldn’t be fired or feel awful about it, “he didn’t mean to, did he? It was only an accident.” The cool liquid felt wonderful against her suddenly aching knees. She hadn’t really noticed that they were still on fire while she was talking to the man called Dharr but as she looked down, she noticed the mean looking scrapes on her knees. Raising the hem of her dress slightly, she saw that the scrapes were long and relatively deep. “Oh, goodness,” she said, inhaling sharply when he put the gauze on a particularly deep area. “Does that hurt?” he asked, instantly moving off the area, looking down at her face. The compassion in his eyes created butterflies in her stomach. She felt funny, knowing that this obviously powerful man was taking the time to clean her scrapes. She also felt bad for speaking to him so harshly a few moments before. “Don’t worry,” she said, reaching out to take the gauze so she could clean the area herself. For some reason, this man’s closeness was overwhelming her. “I can do that,” she said softly. She wished her hands didn’t shake as she reached out to take the cleaning supplies from him. Dharr put a hand on her wrist to lower it, and continued his tender ministrations. “Explain to me why you would defend someone you don’t know,” he demanded. Victoria smiled at his autocratic tone. “You aren’t very good at asking, are you?” she teased. “Asking?” Dharr questioned. “Asking what?” Victoria only laughed, her suspicions confirmed. “Well, that answers my question, doesn’t it?” “Explain,” he said, enjoying the dimples that suddenly appeared in her cheeks. They brought his attention to her soft, full lips. Lips that would look lovely begging him to kiss her, he thought. His command to explain only caused another chuckle to burst from Victoria. “I mean, you want to know why I would defend someone but instead of putting it to me as a query, you simply demand an answer. I think you’re mother would be ashamed of your manners, Mr. Qudama.” Dharr stared in shock as the tiny woman actually tssked him. He couldn’t help but smile in response. “I don’t think my mother would be offended,” he replied. Her head tilted to the side and her sharp, green eyes turned curious. “Why not? I think all mothers would want their children to be raised with manners.” Dharr liked the way her soft, brown hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head. It was lovely, he thought and again he had the impulse to bury his hands in the long tresses, pushing back the small, wispy curls that framed her face. . “My mother is dead,” he said without emotion. Victoria instantly felt awful. Putting a hand out, she touched his shoulder, sure that the stiffness in his manner was because of his recent loss. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Qudama. I apologize for bringing it up. It must have been hard for you,” she said. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up into his hard, unyielding ones. “I can see that you miss her,” she said. Dharr’s hand stopped, not because he was finished but because he could no longer move. The emotion clogging her voice and the tears in her eyes melted a small part of his heart that had been frozen for so long he hadn’t even known it existed. Why was this woman, this beautiful stranger, crying for his mother that had passed away when he was in his teens? He was thirty years old and long past needing his mother’s comforting arms, which she’d never offered to begin with. “Thank you,” was all he could say. Victoria took the gauze from his hand and finished the task, wincing several times when she hit a particularly painful spot but persevering despite the pain. When she was done, she looked up at him, smiling brightly. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, I suppose,” she replied and slid down off the gurney. “Promise me something?” she asked, picking up the mess and tossing it into the appropriate bins. “Anything,” Dharr promised. “Anything?” she asked, turning back to him with another bright smile on her face and mischief twinkling in her eyes. “What if I ask for a new car or a castle? Shouldn’t you hear what I’m asking before you promise the moon?” Dharr felt like chuckling since he could indeed deliver on anything she asked. Possibly not the moon, but even that might be within the realm of possibility in a few years. “Okay, anything within reason?” he said. Victoria nodded but then turned serious. “Please don’t do anything about the man who accidentally knocked me down,” she said. “It really won’t be too bad.” Dharr walked closer to her and touched her skin where a bruise was already forming. “How old are you?” he asked. Victoria had to concentrate since his touch had driven all thoughts out of her mind. “Uh…twenty,” she said. “Only twenty?” he asked, thinking he felt much older than his thirty years of age. Victoria blinked at his response, wondering if he thought her a child. He was obviously much older than she was but felt it was important to point out that she wasn’t too young. Too young for what, she didn’t let her mind define. “I don’t feel ‘only’ anything. Besides, twenty isn’t too young,” she asserted strongly. “It isn’t too young for what?” he asked, and was delighted when she blushed again. She glanced away but only for a moment, looking back up at him through her long lashes. “You’re teasing me, but really, I’m not that young. I’m only two years away from graduation which at times feels like eternity but will come eventually.” He decided it wouldn’t be gentlemanly to tease her more about her innocence. “What are you studying?” he asked, changing the subject. “Psychology.” “And what do you want to do with a degree in psychology?” “Help people,” she said without hesitation. “Help who?” “Children probably,’ she said, smiling despite her nervousness. “They are wonderful little misunderstood.” people but sometimes they are so vulnerable and Dharr stared at her lips, the need to bend down and taste them almost overwhelming. But he resisted the urge and took a step back. He needed to just forget about this woman and her refreshing honesty and spirit. He had work to do and very little time to finish it before heading back to Ashir. “Now that you are cleaned up, may I give you a lift somewhere?” he asked. Victoria snapped out of her dream were she was being kissed by this man. He was probably married or seeing someone seriously. No man this gorgeous and sexy could remain unattached. She sat up straighter, testing her head tentatively by turning it from right to left. When nothing happened, she shook her head in response to his offer. “No, thank you. I’m only a block away from my class,” she said and gasped. “Oh no! My class. I’m going to be late,” she said and hurried out of the room. At the split in the curtains, she suddenly stopped and turned back to Dharr. “Thank you so much for your kindness, Mr. Qudama. I’m sorry to have been so silly by fainting on you.” Dharr watched her rush over to a nurse, taking out her wallet. The nurse quickly shook her head, obviously explaining that the hospital bill had already been paid. He slipped out of the curtained area, following the signs to the exit where he knew his limousine was waiting. It had been a refreshing interlude, but now it was over and he needed to get back to work. Once the nurse explained that one of the burly men with Dharr had paid her bill already, Victoria glanced back to the curtained area, intending to wave her thanks. But the man was already gone. Her heart dropped and she felt like the sun had just left for the day, leaving only the heat and oppressive humidity. Walking out of the hospital, she looked up at the sunshine still beating down on the busy city sidewalks and sighed. So much for life’s little fantasies, she thought. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, she made a determined stride towards her class. It was a once a week class so it would last three hours today. She’d already missed the first hour but she could make it for the last two. The Greek Tycoon’s Lover Chapter 1 Their words hurt. Helen Miller tried to block their words and ignore the pain slashing at her self-esteem but the women were relentless with their cutting remarks. The vicious women standing by the filing cabinets didn’t know someone was hidden behind a large stack of boxes, so they felt free to speak openly. And the worst part; their words were true. Oh, so painfully true. Helen swiped angrily at a tear that slipped down her cheek. With a grimace, she acknowledged that now she had at least one good reason why she didn’t wear makeup anymore. She almost laughed out loud at the idea of finding a silver lining in this horrible situation. She didn’t though. Overwhelming the humor was the absolute humiliation she was feeling as the women continued to slash her appearance and personality to shreds, unknowing that their victim was shrinking back into the cold, steel, filing cabinets. Thankfully, the harsh, overhead, fluorescent lighting didn’t reach this corner of the filing area so she was a bit less conspicuous. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tune out their words. The first woman huffed in a haughty manner and Helen could picture the woman’s image in her mind, having heard her voice and witnessed her smug expression in so many meetings. Brown hair that had a perfect sheen to the immaculate cut, sophisticated slacks and a slightly trendy shirt. Her name was Jessica and she worked in the accounting department. The woman was a flirt, but also had the fashion sense of a French designer. “Good grief,” Jessica said with a snotty voice, “she’s been here for six months and in all that time, she’s just let herself slide. At least when she first started, she would at least try to look pretty and professional. Now she just looks dull and lifeless.” “I agree. Did you see the suit she is wearing today? Ugh! It’s horrible,” another woman said. “How frumpy! The woman looks so pale in that terrible color of brown. She should never wear that color.” Helen knew that woman’s voice as well, had taken notes in several meetings when the evil woman preened in front of the group as if she was in her element to be in front of so many men. Her name was Barbara from marketing and had a reputation for being a horrible gossip as well as a flirt. At least in this case, the woman wasn’t the best dresser. Barbara wasn’t boring in her fashion attempts but many times, her efforts at coming across with a trendy style completely missed the mark. Helen looked down at her brown, tweed suit that had seemed so professional looking earlier in the morning when she’d pulled it out of her closet. But now, looking down at it in the harsh light of the filing room with the unflattering lights defining the nubby texture too closely, she accepted that it quite possibly was frumpy, just as Barbara had described. Unfortunately, they weren’t finished. A third woman laughed shrilly before saying, “And her shoes! Why can’t she find something more feminine? The ones she’s wearing are no better than flats and do nothing for her legs. I mean,” the woman laughed bitterly, “if you’re going to be around Dimitri Theopolis, at least have a little pride in what you look like. The man is a super stud. He must roll his eyes each morning when she comes in looking like woodwork.” Barbara snorted her agreement. “A grandma wouldn’t be seen wearing those awful things,” her malicious voice said. “You’re right, the woman has relatively nice legs, why won’t she show them off? I know I’d be raising my hemlines if I were around that man!” The three women chatted away, tearing up Helen a little longer, then finally moved on to the next person who didn’t meet their standards. Eventually, their voices faded away as they walked out of the filing room but their malicious comments rang heavily in the air long after they were gone. Helen stayed where she was, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. She couldn’t keep the pain from clenching at her stomach as her shoulders sagged in humiliated misery. Their words were true. She’d slowly become frumpy in an effort to increase her efficiency for her boss in the hopes of becoming more valuable to him. In the process, she’d lost herself, her femininity and all her pride in her appearance. Helen grimaced as she pulled a tissue out of her pocket to sop up the wetness on her cheeks. In reality, she’d never really thought of herself as very attractive. She’d never really thought about her appearance one way or another since she’d been a teenager and heard….Helen pushed that thought aside, not wanting to go back to that painful period in her life. She’d overcome that aspect of her life, she told herself. She might not be any man’s dream woman, but she was smart and efficient and she loved her job, finding fulfillment in doing it well. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and wiped her tears away, forcing the silly, ineffectual wetness to stop. She was angry with herself for letting those catty women get to her. So what if they were right about her appearance. There was nothing wrong with her life and she had dreams just like any other woman. Helen considered her life objectively. She might not be drop dead beautiful, but in the opposite way, she’d never considered herself dowdy either. Until now, she grimaced inwardly. She loved this job, loved working for Dimitri Theopolis. He was incredibly intelligent and ran the Theopolis shipping empire with a genius financial mind. Helen worked out of the London office but the headquarters was in Athens. Dimitri was spending more time here in London lately and Helen felt as if she were on cloud nine each time he called or walked through the executive suite. It wasn’t that she had any personal feelings for the man. No, Helen wasn’t stupid enough to fall into that category. Dimitri Theopolis had enough women throwing themselves at him, he didn’t need his personal assistant to do the same. She wasn’t even in a class to attract him. The man generally dated sophisticated women who spent their days primping and making themselves beautiful for their evenings with Dimitri. Helen knew that she’d never be acceptable in any kind of personal capacity so why even try? She’d only come up short in the end and feel the crushing pain of disappointment as a reward for her efforts. Because if she ever thought she had a chance with Dimitri, she only had to remind herself of her deficiencies or open up the newspaper to see the kind of woman that piqued his attention. And it definitely wasn’t a short, mousy female with ordinary brown hair and blue eyes. Oh, she could look nice, she knew. She had a decent enough figure with slender hips and more than enough up top. Probably too much up top, she thought as she pulled the brown tweed down to cover her slim hips more smoothly. When she let her hair loose, it was long, and a deep chocolate brown that curled softly at the ends and small little wisps that curled about her temples unless she smoothed them down with hairspray, as she usually did for work. It would probably curl more if she took the time to get it trimmed, but it was so much easier to just pull it into a bun each morning. Helen thought it looked more professional as well. Her eyes were a pretty blue, but since she had stopped wearing makeup, there was nothing to enhance their color. She used to at least wear mascara and powder, but now, she probably needed a good bit of concealer just to cover the dark circles under her eyes from working late each night. Oh, who was she kidding? Her shoulders slumped in defeat. No matter how much makeup she wore or how perfectly coifed her hair, she could never be in the same league as the women Dimitri dated. All the women Dimitri spent time with were tall, sultry blonds or stunning red-headed women. Actresses, models, society women who could shine as brightly as he did. He definitely didn’t date personal assistants who had scrimped and saved just to put herself through university. Helen wiped her eyes one more time and pinched her cheeks, hoping to get more color back into them. Thankfully, Dimitri was not in the office today. He wasn’t expected back in London for several more days and she had many reports to finish up before he returned. “Just one step at a time,” she said to herself. That old phrase had gotten her through many painful years. Although they were spoken by a physical therapist at the time, they applied to every aspect of Helen’s life. With those words ringing through her mind, she made her way slowly back to her desk. Her computer was still humming along but she had several more contracts and reports piled on her desk. With a sigh, she pulled the first one down only moments before the air started to crackle with electricity. Helen felt the hairs on her neck stand up in excitement and she looked up from the document she’d been reviewing only moments before Dimitri himself walked through the doors. She inhaled sharply, wondering if she’d ever get used to the man’s electrifying, overwhelming presence. “Good morning, Helen,” he said as he walked through the doors. Helen stood up immediately, her eyes looking frantically for her notebook and pencil, ready to take notes on whatever he shouted out to her as he passed. “Good morning, Mr. Theopolis. I wasn’t expecting you until Wednesday. How was your flight? Did James make it smooth again?” Dimitri stopped in front of her desk, the list of things he needed to get done today vanishing as he noted her strained expression. His eyes traveled over her face, the intense, green gaze seeing everything, including the sadness and what he thought might be the remnants of tears. Her skin, which usually had a translucent glow that he constantly wanted to touch and feel to see if she was made of porcelain, was pale, almost chalky. “What’s wrong Helen?” he asked sharply. Helen smiled more brightly, her heartbeat picking up its already frantic beat as she worried that he’d be able to see the signs of her pity party a little while ago. “Nothing. Why do you ask?” His lips thinned and he dropped his briefcase to the floor. His eyes traveled over her tweed suit and Helen nervously smoothed the wool down, ensuring that it was covering all the essentials. Assuming he was ready to start business, she looked down at her notes. “I have the Stevens file for you and I’ve made some notes on the contract negotiations. There’s a summary of the two meetings you asked me to conference into this morning. I also have the budget for the new ships that are under construction and their possible itineraries. They already have cargo booked on them even though they aren’t due to be finished for another six months,” she said, keeping her eyes hidden from him as she listed the activities she’d accomplished this morning. “Come into my office,” he said and turned on his heel to precede her into the spacious corner room. Helen quickly picked up her notebook and pen and followed him into his office. She perched on the edge of one of the chairs facing his desk, her pen poised over the paper. As Dimitri settled behind his desk, he watched Helen’s face, green, intense eyes boring into hers in an effort to understand what was bothering her. “Is your mother okay?” Helen’s startled blue gaze was captured by his stern, unblinking green one. “Yes. Thank you for asking. She loves the apartment you found for her. I can’t believe how affordable it is. I’m eternally grateful to you for finding that deal. She’s loving the place.” “Good. Is the house okay? If you’re having any maintenance problems, I want to know about it.” Helen smiled brightly again. “No. No problems on that front. The house is wonderful and right in my price range. And there are no problems thanks to the home inspector you recommended. He caught any potential problems so they were all fixed prior to the closing date.” “Then what is wrong?” he demanded. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was leaning against the front of his desk, his eyes watching hers as she tried to evade his too knowing eyes. “Nothing,” she lied and smoothed the nubby fabric of her skirt further down over her knees. How could he see that something was bothering her? She’d looked in the mirror only moments before he’d entered and nothing had seemed amiss with her appearance. Dimitri softened his tone and leaned forward slightly. “Helen, if nothing is wrong with your mother and the house is good, then tell me why you were crying. I can fix it for you,” he promised. Helen’s heart twisted painfully. She looked back at him, then let her gaze wander away. He was so incredibly gorgeous with his thick, black hair and square jaw. His Roman nose was slightly crooked but that only added to the overall impact of strength and intelligence. Add to it the green eyes that could slice a person to bits and the intelligence of a financial genius and there was no way Helen couldn’t have fallen in love with this man. She sighed and shook her head. “Nothing is wrong.” “Did someone say something to hurt your feelings?” he asked. How could that man zoom in on the truth so unerringly she wondered? “No. No one said anything that wasn’t true,” she said, then cringed at how much she’d revealed with those words. His eyes narrowed and she watched in fascination as his lips thinned into a line of extreme annoyance. “What did they say and who were they?” he asked with a dangerously soft voice and Helen blushed at the anger emanating from him. Dimitri Theopolis was not a man to mess with. He was a dangerous man personally, but no one dared to cross him in the board room. When challenged, he was absolutely lethal. She’d seen it too many times and would hate to be on the receiving end of some of his tongue lashings or merciless business tactics. They were all legal, but when someone crossed him, they were destroyed. Helen shook her head, determined to solve her own problems for once. “No. I’m not telling you anything,” she said firmly but couldn’t hold his gaze. Knowing him, she wouldn’t put it past him to fire the women who had spoken so callously this morning in the file room. It wasn’t that they were excellent employees. All of them were awful gossips who spent half their time slicing their co-workers to shreds. But if they were going to be fired, Helen didn’t want it to be because of something they said about her. Especially since it was true. Dimitri wasn’t having any of that nonsense. “Why not? If someone hurt you, I want to know about it.” Taking a deep breath, she laid her pencil down on the pad, her shoulders drooping sadly. “Because what they said was true.” “It doesn’t matter if it was true or not, I’ll not tolerate people being inconsiderate to you, Helen,” he said, his lips thin and his eyes sparking green flames. She smiled weakly at his show of support but shook her head. “It’s my problem. And I’ll deal with it in my own way,” she said softly, looking down at the floor. She wished he would move on to business. She could deal with anything he threw at her in that area. But when he was nice to her, it only made her love him more. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and cry out her embarrassment on his chest, feel his muscular arms wrap around her and know that he would make everything okay. But that wasn’t her reality. She didn’t have the right to lean on him in that way. That was reserved for whoever he chose as his wife. And it definitely wouldn’t be her. “If you don’t have anything for me, I need to get back to that report. You have the meeting in two days and if I don’t pull the numbers together for you, it won’t be good.” She stood up and rushed out of the office, almost falling into her chair as her legs stopped working. She hid herself under the pile of work at her desk, praying that he wouldn’t see how distressed she was. Chapter 2 Dimitri let her go, his teeth gritting as he watched her walk out of his office, his body already aching with need from the moment he’d walked out of the elevator and seen her gorgeous smile with her bright, blue eyes that could swallow a man up with their depths. Her sweet, gentle, sexy walk only made him harder and he wished he could look away, but he didn’t, needing her presence too much to stop. Shoving his hands into his hair, he cursed under his breath and looked out the window. He shouldn’t be here. He should be in Athens resolving the latest labor disputes and overseeing production of the next fleet for the Theopolis ships. But there was just something about Helen that drew him back to London over and over again. Even his mother was starting to ask about it, questioning the time he spent away from home. He wanted Helen. With an aching, driving passion that he couldn’t ignore any longer. He’d interviewed her six months ago and hired her immediately, thinking at the time that the attraction was only an intellectual connection that would make them work better together. How could he have known at that point what a luscious, incredible body she had hidden under those severe suits and staid shoes? Of course, he’d loved the way her eyes had sparkled while she answered his questions. And more than once, he’d stopped listening as his mind formed fantasies in which her soft, full mouth with her sweet pink lips was a main feature. At the time, he’d attributed his distractions down to the long working hours he’d been putting in. But as his tiny, adorable, sexy Helen started working that first week, his mind discovered what his body had already known. He wanted Helen in his bed, not in his office. Getting her there would take some work. She was one of the shyest females he’d ever encountered and no more aware of her beauty and femininity than a lobster was aware of the sand on a beach. He’d slowly been working towards getting her to think of him in terms of a man, but it had been a painfully slow battle. Hell, she still called him Mr. Theopolis despite the hundred or so times he’d ordered her to call him by his first name. He, on the other hand, had no problem calling her by her first name. Each time he thought about Helen, it was in personal terms. Grimacing, he knew that, six months ago, he’d never realized getting her into his bed would take quite so much of his energy. He’d never had this much trouble with a woman before. He walked around to the other side of his desk and had to smile at the surface. Everything was laid out on his desk in very precise order with yellow sticky notes summarizing each document. In the center was a list. Helen loved lists. He had to chuckle as he read through the list. She had given him a list of people he should talk to and in the order of priority. Dimitri sighed heavily and picked up the phone, dialing the first number. Helen might be a little dictator, but she was also usually right when it came to organizing business priorities. It was only when she didn’t know what was going on that she was wrong so Dimitri made sure she was included on anything she wanted. He trusted her more than he trusted his executives and she worked harder that most of them. That’s one reason he paid her about the same amount as some of his vice presidents. By lunch time, he walked out and found her staring at her computer listlessly which only alarmed him further. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Helen not moving about the office efficiently and they had been times when she was deeply worried about something. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, bending over her desk, hands propped flat on the surface so he could look into her pretty, blue eyes that revealed so much about her inner feelings. Seeing the clouds pass over their crystal blue depths, he knew something was troubling her. Helen jumped when his face came into view and her cheeks immediately turned a soft shade of red. “Oh, Mr. Theopolis, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I was day dreaming.” She quickly pushed back from the desk and stood up, placing several feet between the two of them. She had trouble breathing when he was so close. Good grief, she forgot to breathe most of the time when he was close. “What were you day dreaming about?” he asked, standing up as she did. “Nothing,” she said and started stacking the files on her desk that were already perfectly stacked in some sort of order. “Of course it was something,” he countered grimly, frustrated that she wouldn’t open up to him this time. The last time she’d been this upset, her landlord had been pressuring her on the rent, wanting to increase it by several hundred dollars. It hadn’t been that Helen couldn’t afford the additional rent. It was only that his little Helen, the penny pinching, coupon cutting darling didn’t think the rent increase had been ethical. His initial reaction had been to buy the damn apartment complex and let her live there for free. But he knew she’d balk at that idea. So he’d done the next best thing. He’d bought a small house he knew she’d like, then sold it back to her anonymously at a price he knew she couldn’t resist. When her mother had been in an accident and couldn’t live alone anymore, he’d made a quick phone call to a private retirement home and ensured a place for Helen’s mother at a price that wouldn’t burden Helen’s cash flow situation. He knew some might call it subsidizing but he thought it was more like ensuring that she wasn’t worried. So why was she not letting him help her in this instance? What had happened this time that was so personal she couldn’t tell him about it? Did she not trust him for some reason? He immediately dismissed that idea. Helen trusted him more than she trusted herself. “Why don’t you come out to lunch with me and fill me in on what’s going on? I don’t have any plans, do I?” “Except me,” a sultry, female voice said from the left. Helen gritted her teeth when the painfully lovely blond sauntered toward Dimitri, draping herself against him as she reached up and kissed him. She resisted the urge to slap the woman’s sexy smile or to scratch her eyes out. She didn’t think Dimitri would appreciate his girlfriend being mauled by his mousy secretary. Dimitri immediately pulled away but Helen noted that he maintained his hand on her back. “Barbara, what are you doing here?” he asked. The beautiful, blond Barbara laughed her sexy laugh and winked at him. “You’ve been a naughty boy lately! I told you to let me know when you came back to town but you snuck in. Fortunately, I found out and am here to kidnap you for lunch.” “I already have plans to take Helen out today,” Dimitri said. Barbara smiled victoriously. “Don’t be silly dear. She already has her lunch and I’m starving. Besides,” she started off, only to finish with a whisper in Dimitri’s ear. Dimitri smiled broadly and laughed. “Good enough,” he said to Barbara. Turning to Helen, he said, “Do you mind if I give you a rain check on that lunch?” The Sheik’s Sensuous Trap Chapter 1 “Come on, Alea!” Leslie Morgan said to her best friend and college roommate. “We’re going to be late.” Alea Al-Basiri looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. “I really should be studying. Finals are next week and…” “Stop right there,” Leslie interrupted. “You and I both know that you’ve been studying so hard for your finals that you’ve probably memorized the entire book so you can’t use that as an excuse to avoid tonight. Besides, you almost never come out dancing with us and grad school is almost over. You’re heading home after finals to a country none of us will ever understand, so you must come out with us tonight and have a little fun.” Alea laughed and shook her head. “My country isn’t that far from here and everyone can come and visit me whenever they want. You know you’re always welcome.” Leslie fluffed her blond hair and touched up her makeup, shaking her head at Alea’s invitation. “Sorry, girlfriend but that’s still not getting you out of tonight. We’re taking you out and showing you a good time before you head home and have all those horrible royal duties.” “They aren’t horrible,” she said weakly, but even she wasn’t looking forward to the end of school. That meant home and her family, which she missed desperately, but it also probably meant a wedding, which she wouldn’t put it past her father to have already arranged and not told her about it. Her father knew how much she wanted to contribute, and not simply as the wife of some sheik for a political alliance. She wanted to make a difference! She wanted to do something with her life that was more than being a baby making machine for another man’s dynasty. Leslie poked her gently in the ribs. “You’re getting that melancholy look about you once again. What are you thinking about?” she asked. Alea shook off her depressing thoughts and smiled. “I’m thinking about finals but you’re right. Tonight is going to be fun. We’ll go dancing, have some laughs and….” “And maybe get enough alcohol in you to relax and find a wonderful man to fall in love with…” Leslie teased, a mischievous look on her pixie-like face. Alea chuckled, thinking of the reaction of her father if she came home asking to marry someone he hadn’t hand picked out for her and for his own political benefit. “That’s definitely not going to happen,” shuddering at the fury she’d face if her father even knew she was going out dancing tonight. “We’ll see,” Leslie said hopefully. “Come on, the others are already waiting for us. We’re going to be late.” Chapter 2 Rashid Bin Faisar glanced up impatiently from the document he’d been reading and looked out the window of the limousine in an attempt to determine how much longer until they reached his penthouse. He had a dinner meeting in thirty minutes but wanted to shower and change. Unfortunately, at the rate traffic was moving, he was going to be pressed for time. His eyes skimmed the late evening car traffic and pedestrians milling about the sidewalk, glancing at the masses of people going about their business. The woman with long, black hair caught his eye and his interest instantly responded to the long, sexy legs and slim figure. Besides her stunning black hair which came down almost to her waist, her legs and tiny waist were all he could see from behind but his eyes were captured. When the limousine inched forward, he was able to see her face and his stomach muscles tightened. She was absolutely spectacular, he thought to himself. The woman’s high cheekbones were highlighted by beautiful, almond shaped eyes. Her lips were full and sensuous and, at the moment, smiling at something one of her friends said. Briefly, he considered pulling over and offering to take the woman out to dinner. Perhaps a little conversation would be needed, but not many women turned him down. In fact, it rarely happened, he thought. Pulling his eyes away, he forced his attention back down to the report he’d been reading. There was no time for pleasure on this trip. It was all business. Perhaps another time, he considered. His mind was reading the report but a part of his brain kept moving back to the woman on the street. Something about her kept intruding on his concentration. That in itself was notable since Rashid never allowed anything to intrude on his work. As ruler of Ibel, a country noted for its massive oil reserves as well as being an influential force within the Middle East, it was his duty to guide his people. And he did so with a relentless pursuit of his country’s interests, something his predecessor had not had as his main concern. Rashid’s uncle had put his own interest at the top of his list of priorities and Ibel had suffered to the point where, even today, there were almost constant border battles with loss of life a part of many villagers’ daily routines. It was an ongoing tragedy Rashid was determined to fix as soon as possible. No one should die such senseless deaths when there was no cause behind the violence besides greed, misunderstanding and lies propagated by his late uncle. Some people, both inside and outside of Ibel, considered Rashid ruthless. And worse, in some cases. Regardless, they never doubted his loyalty to Ibel. His people followed his lead without question now, trusting him on all matters. He glanced up again and noted that the limousine was stopped at a stop light so he could only see the back of his mystery woman now. She had a very nice derriere, he thought. As the car moved forward slightly in the thick traffic, the street lights caught the woman’s profile and Rashid tensed. He was startled by something in her face, her eyes. There was a resemblance that nagged at him. He searched through his mind’s memory, trying to figure out where he knew the woman. Initially, he rejected political possibilities. No woman of consequence or political significance would be out on the street alone without body guards. His eyes lifted back to the woman and something about the way she lifted her hand jogged his memory. He suddenly remembered a similar action in several news reports. Could it be? His eyes sharpened on the stunning beauty walking with her friends. She was the right age, he supposed. He didn’t hesitate. If there was a possibility that the woman was who he thought she was, he would have to act without delay. He quickly picked up his cell phone and dialed a number. “Get me a picture of Al-Basiri’s daughter immediately,” he snapped into the receiver. “I want it on my computer in five seconds,” he said, then snapped the cell phone closed. “Pull over,” he said in Arabic to his driver. The two body guards that were sitting in the front seat turned around, looking at their employer inquiringly. Rashid didn’t respond, but simply counted to five while he watched the woman stop and get in line for a dance club. When he looked down at his computer, which was already open on the seat in front of him, an e-mail popped up with an attachment. He pressed several buttons and looked at the image staring back at him from the screen. Looking out the window again, a smile formed on his face. It wasn’t a smile filled with amusement though. It was one of triumph. “Change of plans,” he said to his guards and flipped open the phone again. When the person at the other end answered, he said, “Tell the prime minister that an urgent matter has come up and I’ll have to reschedule.” To his guard, “Follow the woman with the long black hair. Don’t let her out of your sight and let me know if she moves to another club.” One guard instantly nodded and then stepped from the car to walk discreetly across the street, immediately blending in with the crowd walking about the sidewalk as they waited to gain entrance to the dance club. “Get me back to the penthouse immediately,” he said to his driver. His mind was already working through the details of his plan as his eyes took in the slender beauty laughing with her friends. His smile was almost feral as the car drove away. An hour later, Rashid stepped out of the car, ignoring the two other black SUVs that pulled up behind and in front of the limousine. Several other body guards stepped out as well and instantly formed a perimeter around him although to an onlooker, it would seem like they were just a crowd of men with no knowledge of each other. Rashid walked into the dance club, now dressed in a casual pair of slacks and white, open necked shirt. He didn’t wait in line like the others since the owner had already been called and warned of his arrival. As he walked through the club, he found the guard who had been left behind earlier. He was off to the side and nodded inconspicuously toward a corner area where the four women had settled. Rashid nodded and moved toward the bar area, ready to get a drink on his own. Once he had his drink, he moved away, finding a strategic place to watch and wait until the moment was right. It wasn’t such a hardship, he told himself. The woman was more than stunning, having an aura or something about her that drew more than his own gaze toward her laughing persona. Rashid noticed that several other men glanced her way more than once. Her long, black hair fell softly around her shoulders, ending just under her breasts. The tresses framed a lovely face dominated by her smiling brown eyes which had the exotic, almond shaped eyes prized by models and actresses alike. Her hands were even pretty he noticed as she lifted her drink to her mouth. Her long, slim fingers ended with short, tapered nails without any nail polish on them. Ah, and that mouth! Those lips were every man’s fantasy, he smiled. They were full and red, pouting until she smiled revealing straight, white teeth. Her movements were soft and feminine, and definitely considerate of her friends’ feelings. He was too far away to hear the conversation but he could see that she was only slightly amused while her friends were overcome with laughter. She faked it well. The thought forced a grim smile to his face. He’d make sure she never had to fake it with him, he told himself. His body reacted to just the idea of holding her in his arms, watching that luscious mouth as her body came to fulfillment. The image in his mind had his body reacting quickly and he had to take a sip of his watered down whiskey, subduing the grimace of disgust at the poor alcohol. Rashid waited on the sidelines, watching his prey as she talked and laughed. Patience was all that was needed, he knew. With patience, an opportunity would present itself. It always did. His opening came sooner than he’d hoped. A man walked up to their group and introduced himself, then turned to face Alea, obviously asking her to dance. She shook her head to decline, but her friends all overcame her objections, literally pushing her out onto the dance floor with the strange man. The music was loud and the bass thumping so powerfully it could be felt in the weathered wooden floor under his feet. He watched them for a moment, his eyes cold with fury as he noticed the man move closer than what she was comfortable with. The stranger didn’t take the signals she sent off too well either. It was odd that he was so possessive of a woman. Especially one he’d never met before. No female had ever engendered those feelings in him prior to now. Women were soft and lovely, but had a very specific place in his life. That place definitely didn’t include emotional commitment. But then, no other woman would factor in his life as this tiny one would be doing, very soon. Regardless of the reasons for his anger, he was determined to resolve the cause in the most expedient way possible. He put his drink down on the low table and moved in, his eyes glowing with fury when the strange man began touching what Rashid already considered to be his. He had no doubt in his mind that Alea would be his by the end of the night. He was a man used to strategy and had never lost when his goal was determined. Alea wiggled and turned, trying to make a little space between herself and the obnoxious man she was dancing with. Eric, he’d said his name was. But this mighty Eric was just a boor and she was about to step painfully on his foot in an effort to get his hands off her. She was raising her foot to do exactly that when a deep voice interrupted her, mid stomp. “Perhaps I might be of assistance,” the man beside her said. “I’m probably more effective than that foot which will only irritate the man.” Both Alea and the obnoxious Eric turned to face the deep voice. “Who the hell are you?” Eric said belligerently, his chest already puffing up in the “fight” stance. Rashid turned to look down at the man who was several inches shorter than he was. “I’m the man who is going to save you from a lot of pain. If you’ll excuse me,” he said and took Alea’s hand gently in his own and swirled her efficiently out of the man’s reach. He continued to hold her hand as he danced her farther away, putting her back toward the body guards who immediately moved in to intercept and subdue Eric and his need to throw a punch. She smiled up at him and he forced himself to smile back. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said softly, pulling her along in his wake but keeping his hands to himself after that. Alea was relieved to be away from Eric’s annoying hands but trying not to show how awestruck she was by this amazing specimen of masculinity. “Not at all,” she said a little breathlessly. Smiling in an effort to hide her nervousness, she asked, “How did you know I was about to inflict my heel on his toe?” Rashid laughed softly, enjoying the way her pretty brown eyes kept drifting lower, obviously trying to look at his body without him realizing it. “I saw your intention in your eye a moment before your leg moved. Putting two and two together, I figured he didn’t deserve to be standing next to such a lovely lady if he was going to abuse her trust, so I stepped in and rescued both of you.” She laughed herself. “Very perceptive of you, sir. I’ll consider you my knight in shining armor,” she said and gave him a mock curtsy. “My name is John,” he lied, putting out his hand to shake hers. “Alea,” she replied, placing her smaller one in his. Rashid smiled as he felt the shiver travel up her arm. Good. The chemistry was not one sided, he said to himself. It would be so much easier that way. “You don’t seem like a ‘John’ to me,” she said, tipping her head back and looking directly at him. “In fact, you seem vaguely familiar.” Rashid instantly shook his head, dispelling the possibility that she might remember him from a news broadcast or any other point during their two countries’ violent, past relationship. He didn’t want her remembering past pictures, which she probably had seen of him. He was in the news often, not to mention official photographs which had been taken over the years and published. “I don’t think we’ve ever met before. remembered you.” I definitely would have Alea agreed with him. He was too large and definitely too gorgeous for someone to be banished to the back of one’s memory. No, if she’d met him previously, she definitely would have remembered him. She shook the odd feeling aside, assuming it was just her imagination. They didn’t talk any more, the music too loud to even shout over. But they moved to the beat, swaying and dancing, each of them seeming to synchronize without talking. When he moved to the right, Alea was already moving to the left, their bodies barely touching but the slightest feel of his hard, muscular body sent a shiver through her each time. The feelings were more enticing probably because they were so slight. As if they were teasing each other with the wisps of touch. Alea looked up into his gorgeous features. He was tall, well over six feet. Probably several inches, she thought, noting how he was at least half a head taller than all the other men around them. His face looked hard, unyielding as did his dark, black eyes. His hair was just as black with soft waves that were cut short, barely even touching the collar of his shirt. His jaw was square and firm, “unrelenting” popped into her mind as she surveyed his features. Her fingers itched to touch him more thoroughly but she didn’t dare. She was wondering if his chest was as muscular as it seemed underneath his shirt. His forearms, which were visible to her hungry eyes, revealed muscles on top of muscles, which fascinated her. Most of the men of her current acquaintance were soft, too busy studying or partying to worry about their physical fitness. This man obviously worked out a great deal. She’d never been someone to date men who were much taller than her and definitely not someone who was overly packed with muscle. She’d always thought of muscular men as ignorant. But this man, John, looked like he could read her thoughts and intelligence was definitely one of this man’s strengths. She smiled, and knew that his eyes were watching her. If he was able to read her thoughts, he’d probably run for the hills. This man, with all of his bulk and height was incredibly graceful on the dance floor. Sexy, she thought. And she wanted to touch him more than anyone she’d ever come across. This man was the first one who had ever tempted her to go beyond the good night kisses she’d experienced with her previous dates. Her mind wandered as the music played. Would he be a sensitive lover? Or would he be aggressive, demanding? Would he be slow or fast? Each time she looked at him, peering through her hair as she swirled or twisted to the music, another sexual thought occurred to her and her mouth was actually dry, her body tightening in anticipation. Could she do it? Could she ignore all the teachings of her upbringing and see what this man was like in bed? No, she told herself, blushing and grateful for the dim lights of the dance floor. She’d never do something like that. Goodness! What would he think? They had barely exchanged names and she was already wondering what he would be like as a lover. Rashid noted the soft color entering her creamy cheeks and wanted to know what she was thinking. He could guess, based on the fact that he could see the aroused tips of her breasts through her shirt. His body was already semi-aroused thinking about how perfectly they would fit together. He wanted to take her out of here now, but knew he’d have to take it slow so he wouldn’t scare her off. “You look thirsty. Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning forward so he could be heard above the music. “I’d love it,” she smiled, grateful that he had offered. She was painfully thirsty but that was more because of him than the music or the atmosphere. The Greek’s Baby Bargain As the intense heat beat down on her blond hair, Emma clutched her small black purse nervously in front of her, unknowingly allowing her nails to dig into the soft leather. Standing in front of the enormous, intimidating steel and glass structure that housed the headquarters to Christoph Enterprises, she bit her lip in uncertainly. Was this really her only option? Had her life become so completely out of control that she was back in Greece with the hot October sun shining down without mercy, almost making her dizzy? She stared up through the trees at the sun, feeling the sting of the burn on the uncovered portion of her shoulders, fighting the nausea that almost overwhelmed her. Maybe it wasn’t the heat, she told herself. It might also be that she hadn’t eaten in about twenty-four hours now. Glancing at her watch, she noted that it was already after lunch time. Sighing, she acknowledged that it could also be the fear, no the terror, of facing her husband after four years apart. She jumped when someone bumped into her from behind. “Excuse me,” she replied, stepping out of the way as the person tried to go through the heavy glass doors. She’d been standing in front of them for several minutes now. It was time to face the music. Or the yelling, she told herself. There was a large courtyard made up of fountains and olive trees with several other native varieties of Greek vegetation. If Emma weren’t so terrified, she would have stopped and admired the landscaping. But the truth was, she fully expected to be kicked out of this building as soon as she stated her name and purpose. Why had she come then? Wasn’t there any other option? Had she really dried up all other resources? Sighing, Emma knew that this was a last resort. There was no other place to go. And it was now or never so she’d better get it over with. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she walked forward and pulled the glass door which swung open more easily than she’d anticipated. “Good morning,” she smiled to the security guards standing sentry behind a marble counter. “I’d like to see Dimitri Christoph.” The guards were startled by her request. “Excuse me?” they asked, obviously never hearing the words before. They frantically worked to overcome their shock and regain their intimidating stance. “Do you have an appointment?” one of them asked, glaring at her as if he were about to arrest her. Emma shook her head and smiled with what she hoped was a sincere expression. “No. I don’t have an appointment but,” she started and swallowed, knowing this was the first test, “I think he’ll see me. I’m his wife.” Even the words sounded strained and felt odd rolling off her tongue. Was she still his wife? She’d left Greece four years ago. Wouldn’t he have done something to dissolve their marriage after this long? The guards looked even more startled before settling down into distrust. “I’m sorry, but what is your name?” they asked. “Emma Christoph,” she replied, wishing it wasn’t the case. But if it wasn’t, then she’d have no way of getting to Dimitri, would she? And she desperately needed him. Well, she didn’t need him so much. She needed his money. She’d been turned down by so many banks and her current employer wouldn’t provide an advance on her meager salary. She needed money. Lots of it. There was no other way to get it. He was her last chance. She watched as the guards picked up the phone and spoke rapidly in Greek to someone at the other end of the line. It took only moments before the phone was put down and she was handed a security badge and solicitously shown to a private elevator. The ride up to the thirtieth floor was terrifying, the bitter taste of fear stinging her throat. In contrast to the heat of the outdoors, the air conditioning made her shiver. Or was that more of the fear? This had to work, she reminded herself. She had rehearsed her speech so many times, but would it work? Would he listen to her? Was there a scrap of compassion left within the man? If not, she was wasting her time and she was in more trouble than she could imagine. Because she’d spent the last of her savings on the ticket out here. She’d bet everything on the hope that she could somehow get through to Dimitri. If she didn’t, all would be lost and she’d be devastated. Besides, he had billions! Surely he could spare some for her. She’d never asked for anything. Not during their two year marriage, nor afterwards. When she realized her circumstance, she’d just slipped off, knowing she’d never be the wife he needed her to be. The doors opened and she shivered again in fear. This was it. Her last chance. She had to convince him or all would be lost. And there was so much to lose! Darrin lay in a hospital bed, waiting for a miracle and she had to get it for him. There was just no other option. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Christoph,” an efficient woman greeted her in English immediately after the elevator doors opened. “Mr. Christoph is waiting. If you’ll follow me,” she said and turned to walk down the hallway. The carpeting was thick and green, the walls were in expensive paneling with muted lighting spaced perfectly to provide continuous light, but not be harsh. Despite the luxurious ambiance, Emma couldn’t help but feel as if she might be walking toward an execution. The massive double wooden doors were open and Emma walked in, astounded by the panoramic view of Athens below her. She didn’t hear the doors close behind her as she gazed out at the beautiful city, the heat glistening off the white buildings and the Acropolis in the distance. “So the prodigal wife returns,” a deep voice said. “To what do I owe this dubious honor?” Emma visibly cringed at his words, her eyes snapping away from the peaceful scene outside the windows to search the massive office for the owner of that deep, velvety voice. She remembered that voice so well, but it had never spoken to her in anger or contempt. Only with words of love and compassion, or just passion. Soft words in the night that had heated her blood and stirred her desire to such a fever pitch, she would have done just about anything for the relief only he could provide. It was shocking, but Emma thought he was perhaps more devastatingly handsome now than he had been four years ago. His jet black hair was cut short, but was still thick and waved on each side and his dark eyes almost matched the black in his hair. His jaw was chiseled and powerful, but when he smiled, his face was transformed from terrifyingly intimidating, to charm personified. He was more powerfully built than she remembered him too. His shoulders were amazingly broad but she thought there were more muscles underneath his perfectly tailored suit. She remembered running her fingers over those shoulders and loving the feel of his strength, knowing that he was always gentle with her whenever he touched her in any way. The harshness of his tone today didn’t bode well for her request. She couldn’t give up though, no matter what the odds, she had to take them. Somehow she had to convince him. Emma walked farther into the office and she didn’t miss the fact that he didn’t stand when she entered. That was definitely a bad thing. If Dimitri was anything, he had meticulous manners when he respected someone. The fact that he remained seated while she entered spoke volumes about his feelings toward her. Squaring her shoulders, she smiled warmly, hoping she exuded a little bit of confidence. At least more than she was feeling, she told herself as she walked forward on shaking legs. “Good afternoon, Dimitri. Thank you for seeing me without an appointment.” “Did I have a choice?” he asked, raising one eyebrow and twirling a gold pen in his long, elegant fingers. “You show up at the security desk and tell them you’re my wife. What was I supposed to say? ‘You must be mistaken, my wife left me four years ago with a curt note’ or something equally revealing?” Emma looked at the carpet, standing awkwardly in front of his large, handsome desk. “It was necessary. Things….happened.” She wasn’t sure what to say but this was not how she had planned this interview. She tried to focus on her plan but her curiosity got the better of her. divorce?” “Why didn’t you file for Dimitri raised his eyebrows expressively. “Was I supposed to?” Her words could barely form the words but she forced them out, as much for her own benefit as for his own. “Yes. I assumed you would.” “Is that why you didn’t?” Emma shrugged. She couldn’t tell him that there was no way she could sever the tie that bound her to him. It was too precious to her. The questions such a statement would raise were too painful and she couldn’t handle giving him the answers. The divorce would have to come from him. “Why didn’t you?” He shrugged slightly, as if the whole matter were of little consequence to him. “Because it wasn’t convenient for me. Besides, having a wife, albeit an absent one, kept all the ambitious momma’s at bay.” Dimitri surveyed the woman standing in front of him, wondering why she still had the power to intoxicate him. Her yellow dress was drab, of poor quality and about two sizes too large for her too thin frame. He could tell that her breasts were the same, still voluptuous and sumptuous and his hands ached to test their weight, see if they were as he remembered; firm and perfect for his hands. Her green eyes stared back at him as if he had somehow let her down. Which was preposterous since she’d left him and not the other way around. She used to dress perfectly, showing off legs that were long, slender and a perfect match for him, especially when they were wrapped around his waist. Damn! He wished he could get her out of his mind. He’d thought she’d been obliterated from his thoughts. He’d certainly spent enough time purging her from his life and his mind after she’d left. What the hell was she doing coming back into his world looking just as delicious as she’d been before? Even more so, damn her! Emma tried to hide the hurt his words caused her. He acted as if their entire relationship had meant nothing to him but what was she supposed to expect? Was he supposed to walk in here and declare his undying love for her? To beg her to explain why she’d left and tell her that nothing mattered except the fact that they were back together? Her face blanched as she realized that was exactly what she’d been hoping for. She loved this man more than life itself and she had been hoping he felt the same way. But that wasn’t the case. She knew that and should never have disillusioned herself that he would need anything other than the perfect wife. One that didn’t run away for no apparent reason as well. He’d never told her that he’d loved her during their marriage so why was she hoping he would do so now? It was a ridiculous fantasy. Dimitri cursed under his breath and tossed his pen down onto the desk. “I suppose that’s all in the past. What do you want Emma? Be quick about it. I have meetings this afternoon.” Emma felt as if she’d been slapped, but she couldn’t let it stop her. She’d been to too many banks so this was really her last resort. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the papers out of the folder and placed them in front of him on his desk. “I know you don’t think I deserve this, but I don’t have any other place to turn to now. I was hoping you could help me out by co-signing on a loan for me.” Dimitri’s hard black eyes sliced from the papers she’d handed him to her face. “What the hell do you mean? You went to a bank? For a loan?” She tamped down the anger his response engendered within her. She had to maintain her calm. Everything rested on this meeting. It was too important. “Several, actually,” she explained, smiling slightly in an effort to pacify his obvious anger. “But none would even consider loaning me the money until this last one.” He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “What was so special about the last one? Did you sell your delectable body to the bank teller as a bribe?” Emma’s face paled and she looked down, unable to hold his gaze any longer. “He made the connection to my last name and your company,” she said softly. “He explained that he couldn’t loan me the money without any collateral, but if you were willing to sign for it, guaranteeing the loan, it wouldn’t be a problem.” A nerve started twitching in his forehead and Emma knew that this interview wasn’t going the way she’d planned it. She’d deviated from her speech and was not as articulate as she could be. How was she supposed to anyway when all the old feelings came rushing back to her as soon as she’d seen him? He was too gorgeous, too dark and dangerous while at the same time, she knew he was passionate and one of the most intelligent men she’d ever met in her life. Instantly upon entering the office, all of the old feelings she’d felt for him came rushing back to her and all she wanted to do was to cry on his shoulder and beg him for his forgiveness. She could tell he was beyond furious with her. “Let me get this straight. You’ve gone to several banks and dragged the Christoph name through the mud, begging for money?” Just as it had in the past, his anger seemed to spark her own. Emma’s eyes flashed fire at his arrogant words. “I wasn’t begging. I was asking for a loan! I’m willing to pay back every cent with interest. There was nothing illegal or unsavory in the request, despite your attempts to paint it black.” Dimitri glanced down at the loan documents and swore again. “How are you going to pay back this much money? And why in the world would you need such a large sum?” Emma crossed her hands over her stomach defensively. “I can’t tell you.” Remembering her father’s reaction to Brian’s condition, she knew that many men considered any frailty a weakness that was unacceptable. Her father had hated Brian, projecting a fear of catching the genetic deformity and rejecting his only son. Brian had shriveled up during the years he had lived at the house. When their mother had died, Brian had been moved out of the house, in the guise of helping him but it was really because Emma’s father had hated any sign of weakness. Emma swore she would protect Brian from that kind of humiliation again. Dimitri was just as tough and unmerciful as her father had been and Emma would never allow another person to hurt Brian. He’d been through too much already and after the way he’d taken her in four years ago, helping her to heal and become a human being again, she owed him more than she could ever repay. Getting the money for this surgery that could heal him was only a small way she could help. His mouth twisted in a mocking version of a smile. “And yet you expect me to loan you the money?” Her spine stiffened at his harsh words but she suppressed the anger, knowing it wouldn’t help her argument. Keeping her tone as calm as possible she said, “No. I just want you to sign the papers. The bank will loan me the money and I’ll pay it back.” His face showed his impatience. “You’re being ridiculous, Emma. There’s no way you can pay back this amount. You don’t make that much money.” Her startled eyes looked up again, searching his face for answers to how he had that kind of information. “How do you know how much I make?” Dimitri smiled but there was no amusement in the effort. “I know everything about you Emma. I know that you left me one afternoon four years ago and flew home to London. You left the security of your home and your husband, and ran straight into the arms of another man! You betrayed everything that was between us and didn’t even have the dignity to offer an explanation. I know you now work in a dump of a book store and barely eek out a living. So cut the pretty little plea for money because you can’t afford this kind of a monthly loan payment.” Emma was shaking violently by the end of his tirade. Dimitri rarely got angry. Why should he? The man was more powerful than anyone she’d ever known and had more money than just about anyone else in Europe. And he never raised his voice. He never had to. The people that worked for Christoph Shipping wouldn’t dare to contradict him. At home, his servants bent over backwards trying to anticipate his every need, eager to please the man. And at work, only the best and brightest were employed and each of them were more than eager, terrified even, of crossing the man. He could be devastatingly charming when he wanted to. But he could also cut into a person with words that would leave them metaphorically and financially bleeding for years, decades even. No one crossed Dimitri Christoph. He was too powerful. But beyond his charm and the power that came with his incomprehensible wealth, Dimitri projected sense of danger, it was an overwhelming aura that surrounded him. People literally moved out of the way when he walked down the street, and it had little to do with his security detail that surrounded him wherever he went. There was just something about Dimitri, an air of absolute confidence and power that people in general recognized. She should know. She’d fallen victim to his devastating personality from the first moment she’d met him. Blinking, Emma sat down in the chair despite the fact that he hadn’t offered her a seat. “You had me followed?” she asked, horrified by what he might have seen or what might have been reported back to him. His anger was controlled but his frustration with her naiveté rose up to make him roll his eyes. “You are my wife! Of course you were followed. You were followed every moment from the time I proposed. You were just unaware of it.” Emma had known that Dimitri’s immense wealth meant he and everyone in his family lived with the constant risk of kidnapping. But she hadn’t known that he’d put a security detail on her. It felt invasive, as if he were spying on her. She shivered and looked down at the carpeting so he couldn’t see the anger in her eyes. “Well, that’s all in the past. There’s no reason for you to continue to have me followed. Call off your dogs and leave me alone.” Dimitri tssked. “Not very good powers of persuasion, Emma. If you want something from me, it isn’t a good idea to issue orders. Besides, I never accepted them very well, did I?” Emma’s face flushed, knowing he was referring to their sex life. Too many nights, Dimitri would pull her into his arms and make love to her until she was begging for release, demanding it from him. But he would only take the feelings higher each time she demanded, waiting until she was writhing under him before he would give her what she needed, the wait only intensifying the climax. “That was a long time ago,” she said. conversation.” “It has nothing to do with this His face was hard and unrelenting as he said, “I’m not signing the papers, Emma. And I forbid you to go to another bank.” At the look of finality in his eyes, Emma’s face almost broke down into tears. It was only with supreme effort that she held them at bay. She would let them fall when she was alone, not in front of this man who was staring at her as if she were a bug on his carpet, unworthy of even being crushed by his efforts. She was defeated. This was her last recourse. He didn’t have to worry about her going to another bank. There weren’t any more that would even consider her loan. She’d been to the big ones and most of the medium sized ones. The smaller they got, the more strict they were on their lending requirements. It would be useless to try someone else. Dimitri had been her last resort and now even that was eliminated. She’d failed, and that failure hurt more than she realized it would. Brian would not be healed and it was all her fault. She stood up and took a deep breath. She couldn’t face him but she tried at least for the social niceties. “Thank you very much for seeing me. I’m sorry for bothering you.” She turned to walk out, praying that she would make it to the door and to some sort of privacy before she broke down. The last thing she wanted was for this dynamic, powerful man to see her despair. After everything she’d gone through since leaving him, that would be the final humiliation. She was almost to the door when his words stopped her. “But I have an alternative,” he said smoothly. “Sit back down,” he ordered. Emma wanted to walk out, find a small, dark, private place to lick her wounds and heal. But she couldn’t. Was he offering her a concession? If it was possible, she had to swallow her pride and accept it. This was all for Brian, she reminded herself. He’d given her so much, she had to find a way to give him something back. She carefully made her way back to the seat she’d just vacated, then waited tensely for him to continue, unable to meet his gaze. The Italian’s Bedroom Deal “He has to be here tonight,” she whispered to her image in the mirror, shivering slightly when the cold air from the open window touched her bare skin. “He just has to be here.” Clarissa Montgomery smoothed her soft, brown curls and checked her pink lipstick one more time. Clarissa stared at the cleavage revealed by the low cut dress and push up bra as goose bumps formed on her arms and chest. It was more revealing than anything she’d ever worn before and she couldn’t help being painfully selfconscious in the dress. She fidgeted and tried to adjust the dress so it was more comfortable, but to no avail. How did women wear these things? She pulled the neckline up a bit, then sighed and pulled it back down, reminding herself of her mission. A conservative dress hadn’t gotten her any results so far. She needed to be daring. In order to catch a fish, she thought to herself, she needed the right bait. Since she was trying to catch a whale, she needed to be confident! Powerful! Turning away from the mirror, she almost tripped over the chair to her desk since she wasn’t used to the new shoes she’d purchased for the dress. As she held onto the back of the chair, her blue eyes once again saw the screen and she cringed. The computer at her desk mocked her. She re-read the e-mail from her best friend, sighing as Jennifer talked about the latest pregnancy details. Her friends from college, the ones that she’d done everything with, gone everywhere, were all married although not all happily, with her best friend more than twenty weeks along in her pregnancy. Yet, here she was, the last remaining virgin on the planet. She felt like she was a freak from another era. Tonight, she was going to change that though. Her status as a pathetic, twenty-five year old virgin was definitely going to change. And she had just the man in mind to help her with that goal. That meant it was imperative that the man actually show up so she could work whatever wiles she could dream up and get him to change her status, and she was back to her original dilemma. “It’s now or never,” she told her reflection. “I can just stand here and worry about what might happen, or I can get out there and make it happen.” Her lips firmed in determination and she took a deep breath. “Time to face the music.” Grabbing her small beaded purse from the dresser, she left the cozy, one bedroom cottage, slamming the door behind her to make sure it closed properly since it refused at times. She negotiated the stepping stones carefully with her higher than normal heels and then made her way to the main house. It was a short walk since she lived on her father’s massive estate in what used to be the old gate keeper’s residence. She’d convinced her father to let her rent it and had happily restored the old style house to its former glory. It had been painstaking since she refused all of her father’s monetary help, wanting to do it on her own like any other normal, career woman starting out in the world. She’d wanted “normal” all her life but being the only daughter to a billionaire limited that fantasy to a large degree. That was one of the reasons she was still a virgin and one of the reasons tonight was so important. She had to break out of this phase in her life. Because of her father’s wealth, she couldn’t live outside the gates of the estate for safety reasons, she knew but at least she could pride herself that she was independent, in an off center kind of way. Being the daughter to such a wealthy man meant there was always the threat of kidnapping to worry about. She’d argued with her father to let her have her own career and apartment but he was unrelenting. Instead of giving in to a wave of self-pity because she had no control over her life, with her vivid imagination, she’d turned his refusal to allow her to live on her own into a show of love from him. In her own mind, where she could create whatever ideas she wanted and suited her needs, she credited him with not wanting to risk her life or make him worry about her security. The unfortunate reality was, he simply didn’t want to lose millions by having to pay to a kidnapper if anything had actually happened to her. That’s okay, she reminded herself as she ducked beneath the willow tree and surveyed the large, elegantly dressed crowd that had already formed in her father’s backyard. There were perks to her current situation and tonight, she was going to take advantage of one. The party wasn’t difficult to view since the whole area was lit up with twinkle lights woven into the trees, candles on every table, torches lining the multi-layered patios while flood lights strategically lit up the fabulous looking pool and meticulously manicured gardens. There was a well known singer on stage already belting out her latest number one hit and guests in a rainbow of elegant, designer clothes mingled, laughed and celebrated her father’s sixtieth birthday together while drinking champagne that cost more per bottle than some people’s entire monthly salary. Clarissa might have been born into this world, but she didn’t have to agree with it. She worked hard to buy her own clothes and her own food and she even paid her father a monthly rent equivalent to what another apartment would cost her in town, even though he never bothered to cash the checks. She made her own money, even if her father disagreed that translating manuscripts and documents was not really a career. And that part hurt. She argued against her father’s opinion of her career choice, albeit to herself. Everyone had a career ladder to climb. Hers was just a little more ambiguous. For instance, she had translated several difficult technical documents over the past several years which had grown her reputation and her hard work had built up a very good clientele. But she could do better, she knew. She wanted to start her own company and expand into other areas of translation. And why shouldn’t she build something more? She had a great standing in many companies and the know-how to start a business after years of listening to her father and his cronies discuss the strengths and weaknesses of various companies they were taking over or creating. She’d absorbed every detail over the years and soon she would put all that inside information to good use. Tonight, however, was only about her personal goals she told herself as she pushed her father’s dislike of her chosen career out of her mind. Who cared if he scoffed at her work? She found it satisfying and intellectually stimulating so she refused to care what he thought. This night, this party and her wearing this particular dress had nothing to do with her career or making new connections professionally. She had a private goal in mind and only one man who could fulfill that ambition. Tonight, she was going to go through with her proposition to him no matter how terrified she was. Her father had been thrilled when she’d asked if one particular name had been on the guest list. He would bend over backwards if Clarissa desired a marriage to this particular man. But Clarissa was having nothing to do with marriage. Oh, she loved romance novels and happy ever after movies. They were wonderful and she gorged on them in her spare time. Marriage, however, was not in her future. “Clarissa!” a female voice said from the side of the patio. Clarissa looked to her right and smothered a cringe. Vanessa Brightridge was bearing down on her with a determined look, pulling her husband along in her wake. “Good evening, Vanessa. How are you?” she asked, accepting the air kisses the pretentious woman doled out as a way to mimic a closer friendship than was real. “I’m doing great!” she exclaimed with a soft, husky laugh. “Your father definitely knows how to throw a party, doesn’t he?” Her eyes were bright with excitement and anticipation as she considered all the possibilities presented at tonight’s festivities. In the form of men probably. Vanessa was a professional husband-hunter. And she did amazingly well at her chosen career. Clarissa looked around. “Yes, he definitely has a way with entertainment,” she replied, knowing that her father simply called up a party organizing firm and they did most of the work. All her father did was ask his secretary to provide the firm a list of guests. He probably hadn’t even reviewed the list, delegating even that task to the woman who ran his office with an iron hand. Clarissa pretended to listen to the woman’s inane chatter while considering the ironic fact that Vanessa probably knew exactly who had organized this event, most likely had used the same firm in previous entertaining efforts, but insisted that her father receive all the credit for the event. Clarissa hated the hypocrisy of it all. She looked around the patio, apparently giving Vanessa the appropriate responses since she continued to talk, almost without taking a breath. Clarissa saw one of her father’s friends flirting daringly with another woman, one who was not his wife. Or at least, it wasn’t his current wife. Clarissa wasn’t exactly sure what his previous wives looked like but she assumed they were all similar; blond, painfully thin and perfectly made up. Sighing, she wondered why life wasn’t more like some of her favorite romance novels. Man meets woman, both fall in love and live happily ever after, both dedicating their lives to each other. That wasn’t reality, she knew, accepting more accolades on behalf of her father as other guests came over to talk with Vanessa, including Clarissa in their group simply out of proximity. Clarissa didn’t argue the double standards of her marriage beliefs though she’d never tell anyone about her horror of the married state. She wanted nothing to do with a wedding and the types of marriages her peers were experiencing. Marriage for wealthy people was not a real relationship but simply a means to an end, either commercial or political, and she would not subject herself to that kind of degradation. She wanted more than a business transaction for her personal relationship. She kept her opinions of marriage to herself though. Her dislike of the married state had sent her father into an apoplectic fury. The one time she’d expressed that thought to her father, she’d regretted it. He’d blown up at the idea of his only daughter not marrying and producing the requisite heir. To him, life was all about continuing on the legacy and the only way to do that was to marry well and stay inside one’s circle of acquaintances. Although she kept her ideas to herself and smiled at all the lovely weddings of each of her friends, deep down, Clarissa knew she’d never marry. She’d seen the kinds of marriages that existed in high society and she wanted nothing to do with it. Oh, she hoped and believed in love. Completely. She desperately hoped she’d one day fall in love, but not to marry. No, her relationship would have to remain outside the bounds of matrimony. Why ruin a perfectly good relationship by marrying? Her father had done it four times. What a waste of good energy. Scanning the crowds, she was slightly taken aback when she realized that the man she’d been hoping desperately to see hadn’t arrived yet. This was horrible, she thought to herself. She touched the slender strap of her dress nervously, feeling awkward as more of the other guests started to notice her off to the side. She’d been counting on finding him immediately. In her dream world, she arrived, saw him immediately, he’d take one look at her in the dress and walk over to where she was standing. His eyes would fire with desire and he would gently take her into his arms and whisper in her ear how much he wanted to make love to her. Okay, so some of the details seem a little cheesy and unrealistic. She knew that it wouldn’t be that easy and she’d rehearsed a speech just in case she had to lay out to him in a more obvious way what she was hoping to happen between the two of them. But all of her speeches ended in the same way, with him picking her up in his arms, overcome with passion and he would carry her off to his bed and….she cleared her mind and re-focused on the party, hating the way some of the men looked her up and down, smilingly lasciviously in her direction. He just had to come to the party, she told herself for the millionth time. She stood under the willow tree, separated by the shadows from the party, for at least another fifteen minutes, hoping to get a glance at the man she was searching for but he didn’t appear. She felt a deep sense of disappointment as she acknowledged that he probably wasn’t going to show if he wasn’t here already. Her disappointment intensified as she accepted that it was time for her to make her own appearance, greet her father and a few others. Once that was done, she could head back to her cottage and take off this silly dress and relax, regroup and figure out her next move, she thought. Stepping out of the shadows and onto the patio, Clarissa pasted a bright smile on her face and searched out her father. She’d seen him a few minutes ago so she knew exactly where to find him. Heading for one of the bars, she found James Montgomery in a small group of people who were all laughing uproariously at some joke. Clarissa stood on the outskirts for a moment, waiting for the laughter to die down slightly before she worked her way through the crowd to greet her father. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, only to be knocked back slightly when a woman pushed carelessly in an attempt to steady herself. Clarissa studied the crowd for all of five seconds before turning around, getting ready to leave. She’d tried in good faith, she told herself. If her father wanted to be surrounded by all these sycophants then let him but she wanted no part of it. She turned on her heel, prepared to slowly walk through the crowd back to the oasis of her cottage when she was suddenly faced with a very large, very masculine chest. She looked up, then up again. And up some more since Maximillian Diantes was only inches from her. “You’re not leaving so soon, are you, cara?” his deep voice said, his amused eyes traveling over her delicate features. Clarissa saw his eyes move from her face down her figure and was only a little disappointed when his eyes changed from amused to shocked when he took in her low cut dress. She ignored his expression, too excited to see him after accepting that he was going to be a no-show tonight. As her joy washed over her at the sight of him, her whole body started quivering with excitement. “Signor Diantes!” she gasped, unable to hide her pleasure. Oh how she loved the soft lilt of his words, his Italian accent softly floating through the air, making all of his words sound as if they were a caress. “I thought we agreed you would call me Max,” he said, tucking her hand into the bend of his elbow and turning her around. “Were you trying to greet your father?” he asked gallantly, weaving his way through the crowd that seemed to melt away for him. Clarissa glanced down, wanting to tug her dress higher, suddenly selfconscious with his sexy, dark eyes looking down at her. She felt small and silly dressed like this. Kind of like a school girl trying to impress her older brother’s friends, which was painfully gauche, she knew. Her hand lightly held onto his arm, her fingers discovering muscles underneath the perfectly tailored tuxedo jacket. “I was trying but gave up, unable to squeeze through the crowd surrounding him,” she said softly, wishing she could put more force behind her words. By that time, Max had maneuvered them to the center of the group and her father spotted her. “Clarissa!” she heard her father’s booming voice greet her. “And Max! Good to see you!” Clarissa stepped back slightly, knowing that her father was more interested in Max than in her. But Max was having none of it and while James Montgomery tried to pump Max’s hand in greeting, Max pulled her forward, blocking out the crowds and creating a small group of just the three of them. “You’re lovely daughter,” he said, indicating Clarissa, “was about to be swallowed up by the crowds,” he explained. “I saved her from escape,” he joked. James looked over at her as if he’d just realized she was there. Perking up and doing exactly as he knew he should, he smiled. “Clarissa, dear! Are you having a good time?” he asked. “What do you think of the music?” he suggested, talking to her as if she were three years old and the musicians were playing “Old McDonald”. Clarissa cringed, wishing he could see her as an adult instead of his child. But what could she expect? He probably didn’t know she was twenty-five, so how could she expect him to treat her that way? The man had attended possibly four of her birthdays over the years. And that attendance lasted for a cumulative total of perhaps thirty minutes, assuming that the staff would ensure that her birthday parties progressed properly. Sighing, Clarissa leaned forward, giving her father the regulatory kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday, father,” she said automatically. “It’s a lovely party.” James looked around proudly. “I think so. I’m flattered everyone’s here to celebrate an old man getting one year older.” The crowd around them heard and did the obvious and expected. They cheered, raising their glasses in salute, some even wishing him a happy twenty-first birthday. Such was the life of a billionaire, she thought sadly. How could her father ever know if someone was sincere? The people milling about certainly didn’t appear to be overly concerned with their host’s health. They were more likely to cause a stink if the champagne or excellent appetizers ran out. “Well, go ahead and have some fun,” her father dismissed her. “And don’t leave too early,” he admonished. “I know Kelly scheduled a couple more rock singers.” Clarissa smiled stiffly and stepped away, glad that she’d done her duty and her father considered her mission accomplished. The other guests had seen her greet him, he’d been enthusiastic and fatherly, and now they could go their separate ways. Sighing, she stepped away and walked over to one of the bars. “Club soda, please,” she ordered, unaware that Max had followed her. “Bourbon,” he said right beside her, leaning against the bar to watch her carefully. They picked up their drinks and walked away, Clarissa moving to a more secluded, quieter spot than the center of the party where her father continued to reign as king. “I take it you’re not a big fan of rock music?” he asked softly, his deep voice soothing over her frazzled nerves. Clarissa shook her head and looked down at the tiles of the patio. “No. I’m not really a rock fan,” she said softly. Then looked up at him shyly. “But please don’t let me hold you back if you’re interested in the music. I know there’s dancing over by the pool,” she suggested. Max smiled enigmatically. “I don’t think I’d feel comfortable leaving you in that dress, cara. What did your father say when he saw you?” Clarissa had forgotten about the sexy dress but his admonishment, when the dress was purchased solely to lure him, wasn’t what she was hoping for. She shook her head in frustration. A femme fatale, she wasn’t. “I doubt my father even realized what color my dress is,” she said as she looked back at the party and took a seat on the bench behind her. “Ah, well, I’ll have to inform him that it is a very pretty pink with small roses across the back and a very….feminine cut.” Clarissa perked up. He’d noticed? She turned her soft blue eyes to his, searching his features hopefully as he looked down at her. The man was too gorgeous for words, she thought. And if only she could figure out how to entice him, her evening would be perfect. He was so tall, she thought. And muscular! Her heart skipped a beat as his sexy, bedroom eyes smiled down at her. Her eyes moved lower, looking at the lips she longed to kiss, wondering if he would be a demanding lover or a soft, affectionate one. She shivered at the idea, knowing that anyone as overwhelmingly male as Max would be demanding. The man positively oozed sex appeal, she thought. Unfortunately, instead of some witty, seductive remark that would encourage him in some not-so-subtle way, all she could manage was a pathetic, “Thank you,” in response. “You’re welcome. Would you dance with me?” he asked with supreme confidence that she would accept. The music had changed from a hard thumping rock beat to a softer, jazzier tempo. And of course, she did. She slid her hand through his arm, allowing him to guide her through the throngs of people and onto the hardwood dance floor that had been specially built for tonight’s party. Sliding into his arms, feeling his large, warm hand close over hers, she became even more determined than ever to finish this evening out as she’d planned. It had taken her a month to find the perfect dress and even then, she hadn’t known if he would be attending. So now that he was here and she was wearing what was undeniably a sexy dress, she had to figure out how to make this night end with the hoped for result. Seeing all the space he maintained between their bodies, she became slightly discouraged but no less determined. Unfortunately, she wasn’t exactly sure how to close the gap between their bodies. Sighing, she wondered why men treated her as if she were made of glass. Max was no different, she thought with frustration and a large dose of irritation that he would treat her just as other men did. Why was he being so nice? She read the papers, for goodness sake! She knew that other women threw themselves at him and, according to the gossip columns, he was finicky but generally always had some woman warming his bed. Why not her? Tonight! Knowing that her wayward thoughts wouldn’t get her goal accomplished, she focused on the man, figuring she should get to know him better so she could find a way to get him to move closer to her. “Why were you delayed?” she asked, trying desperately for a topic of conversation. “I had meetings that lasted until about a half hour ago. But my intention was always to come here tonight,” he replied, swinging her out of the way of a couple that had imbibed too liberally of the flowing champagne. “And what have you been up to since I last saw you? I think you mentioned something about a French manuscript you were translating.” She smiled, delighted that he remembered their conversation. “I finished that. It was fascinating. Unfortunately, I’m translating a very dry, very tedious users’ manual for a software product now,” she explained. “Definitely not as interesting as the French mystery.” “How many languages do you speak?” he asked, twirling her under his arm gracefully. Clarissa’s heartbeat increased. How could such a large man be so wonderful of a dancer? He should be clumsy and awkward but he managed to lead her through all the steps as if he were born on the dance floor. “I speak three, not including English but my forte is French.” “Italian?” he suggested, speaking of his mother tongue. She smiled brightly. “Not yet but I’m going to learn it.” “Belissimo,” he replied, his voice coming over her skin like a piece of rich satin. His eyes were looking at her as if she’d accomplished something magnificent instead of only language translations. She didn’t understand this man, but that only made her more determined. He was the one, she thought to herself. The Billionaire’s Gamble Chapter 1 It was time, Sid Matthews thought. The woman crossed the elegantly decorated lobby and his eyes watched, his body instantly reacting to her lovely, innocent looking face and lush body. His eyes continued to follow her as he watched the computer screen which was connected to the security cameras all over the Solara Resort and Casino. His dark, intense eyes never left the image of the petite, red haired woman who was currently crossing the lavish lobby of the resort, the sophisticated cameras catching even the flash of fire that sparked through her hair as the light glinted off the fiery strands. It had been six months since she’d started working here. Six months since he’d sat in this very office, interviewing the woman and being distracted by her long, sexy legs the whole time. He’d known as soon as she’d walked into his office what his plans were for her. And it wasn’t as the Special Events Coordinator for which he’d hired her. She was going to be his. Sabrina Charmichael was everything he knew he wanted in a wife. As she continued her elegant, purposeful walk across the lobby, she fell out of site in one camera. He pressed a few more buttons on the computer keyboard and the next camera picked her up. Crossing his arms over his chest, he considered the way she moved, with grace and style. She was unlike any other woman he’d ever known and Sid had known many. Too many, he thought dismissively. With Sabrina, Sid had discovered she was more than just looks. Behind that beautiful façade, the woman was smart, compassionate and friendly with everyone and her staff raved about her ideas. Sid couldn’t argue with them on the smart and creative side of the equation. Her ideas had increased room bookings at the resort by twenty five percent in the short period of time she’d been working here. Before her arrival, the Solara Resort and Casino had already been one of the most successful establishments on the Las Vegas strip. Sid had seen to that through unrelenting ambition and nursing his plan, overcoming the harsh opposition and beating the impossible odds. At the age of thirty five, he sometimes looked back at his beginnings on the dirty streets of Las Vegas and …but he rarely had time to look back. The future was much more interesting. Sabrina Charmichael, the petite and vivacious woman with a figure that made him forget to think at times, had energized his staff behind her ideas and had created a buzz around the strip unlike anything Vegas had seen in a long time. Sabrina Charmichael had been working for him for six months. The moment he’d interviewed her, he’d known that he was going to make her his wife. He took a deep breath and gazed through the one way mirrors that looked out onto the main casino floor. The lavish casino and resort was all his doing and he was proud. It was now time to make a queen to help him with his empire. And that queen was going to be none other than Sabrina. He smiled as he saw her wave to someone in the lobby. His smile was almost harsh as he considered the battle ahead of him. She’d fight it. He knew that. She was afraid of him for some reason. But he also knew that she was attracted to him, just as much as he was to her. He was glad for that. He suspected that he and Sabrina would probably set fire to each other once she got over her initial inhibitions and he would be more than happy to teach her how to light that spark. He didn’t want a cold wife to grace his table and raise his children. He wanted Sabrina with all of her energy and fire. He pressed another button on his desk and his secretary immediately answered. “Yes, Mr. Matthews?” Liz Walters asked efficiently. Sid’s normal decisiveness came through in his voice. “Call Sabrina and ask her to meet me here in fifteen minutes,” he said then released the button to disconnect the call. He hadn’t waited for Liz to agree. Sid knew that all his requests were immediately taken care of with the maximum amount of professionalism. He’d expect nothing less from anyone on his staff. He turned back to the security cameras and watched as Sabrina answered her cell phone. She listened intently and Sid imagined that she was listening to Liz convey his instructions. He saw Sabrina nod her head and hang up her phone. then waited another fraction of a second before he saw what he was waiting for. He wasn’t disappointed; there was the sign, he chuckled. Sabrina hung up her phone and immediately ran a hand along her hair and smoothed her jacket. He’d seen it every time he’d had Liz call Sabrina to his office for various conferences. He suspected it was only when she was about to meet him that she primped slightly. He’d seen her answer her phone for others and rush off but she never cared about her appearance. In fact, once she entered the hotel each day, he never noticed her caring about her appearance in any way. Except when she was about to see him. He liked that about her. He didn’t like the fact that other men turned to stare at her lovely face or spectacular figure as she made her way through the casino toward the management offices. Sid sighed deeply. He supposed he would have to get used to that feeling. If he was going to marry someone as stunning as Sabrina, he would have to allow that others felt the same way he did each time she came into view. As long as they didn’t do anything about it, he could deal with it. But she was his, he thought to himself with deadly determination. And he protected what was his. Moments later, Liz buzzed through to inform him that Sabrina was waiting for him. Sid pressed several buttons which turned off the monitors of the security cameras in his office. “Send her in,” he said and turned to watch his future wife walk through the double doors. Sid could feel his body harden in anticipation and he enjoyed the gentle sway of her slim hips. Would he ever get used to her bright, trusting smile and sexy, graceful walk? He hoped not. “Good morning, Mr. Matthews. I was going to brief you about the details for the car show later today,” she said and walked efficiently toward him. “I thought I told you to call me Sid. Have a seat,” Sid said and waited until she was seated in one of the chairs in front of his desk before he sat down. “Tell me what’s going on,” he said. He already knew everything he needed to know about the car show. He’d gone over everything with her on several occasions and knew that she was in control of the situation. The car show would showcase one hundred and fifty cars from different periods in history. The cars would be parked in various places within the resort or casino, encouraging people to wander through the numerous areas of the resort and see the cars. There would be car races and various competitions, and of course betting on the races. The show would start in two days, the day after Christmas and he had every confidence that it would be yet another huge success. This was usually a slow week for bookings until New Year’s Eve but because of her plan, they were completely booked and he expected guests from other hotels to flock to the car show as well. Sabrina went through all the details of the show and rattled off the issues that might come up and how she was planning on taking care of each. “It sounds great. I think you have everything under control,” he said and was rewarded by her flush of pleasure and another shy yet bright smile. “Thank you, Mr. Matthews. I think it will be well worth all the trouble we’ve been having with the car owners,” she said. “I think so as well,” Sid nodded, then moved on to the next subject. “What are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked. Tomorrow was Christmas Day and he knew she’d moved out here from the East Coast in order to take this job so he wondered if she had family she was spending the day with. Personally, he considered it just another day but he suspected that Sabrina might have more sentimentality attached to the date. He watched as her eyes took on a glow of excitement, his suspicions confirmed. “Oh, I love Christmas,” Sabrina said enthusiastically. “My sister and I will spend the day together, opening presents and laughing about previous years. Then later, I’m having my neighbors over for dinner and it will be wonderful. Everyone brings something different, something to contribute so no one has the whole responsibility for the meal just to make it a little easier. My neighbors are a lot of fun, very silly and irreverent at times but good people. What about you?” she asked. “I have some work to do,” he said tersely, hiding his frustration. His plans to initiate their personal relationship would have to wait one more day, he thought with a flash of irritation. A light in her eyes that had been sparkling a moment before dimmed slightly with his news. She nodded and stood up. Sabrina turned and started to walk uncertainly toward the door, but she stopped and turned back to him, facing him hesitatingly, as if she wanted to say something more but wasn’t sure if she should. Her eyes darted to her file and then to his face, before settling on the file again. Sabrina hated the idea of this incredibly handsome and fascinating man sitting in this sterile office on one of the happiest and holiest days of the year. No one should spend Christmas alone. It just wasn’t right. Christmas was a joyful time of the year but how could one celebrate while doing work? And what work could he be doing on Christmas that couldn’t wait one more day? Should she invite him over? She felt silly just thinking about it. What if he was only being polite about his plans for tomorrow and he actually had something wonderful to go to and just didn’t want to make her jealous? No, that wasn’t his way. Sid was brilliant and creative and handsome and all those other extreme adjectives used to describe successful and gorgeous business men. But she knew she could also add in the term “harsh” to that list. He never beat around the bush so if he was doing something interesting, he would have made a vague reference to it and he certainly wouldn’t care if she was jealous or not. The idea was almost laughable. Why would he care what she thought of him? She was just projecting her own sensibilities onto someone else. Would he want to join her and her neighbors? Sabrina’s heart raced at the idea and her skin tingled with excitement. Sid Matthews, in her house, sitting across the table from her where she could look at him until her heart’s content. That would be the ultimate Christmas present, she thought. The idea was ridiculous and she tossed it aside. He was probably spending the day with some glamorous, talented actress or model. Someone charming and intelligent who could make witty remarks about all the movers and shakers. Sid wasn’t really the type to spend an evening with down to earth people with normal jobs who laughed about the difficulties of getting their children to eat broccoli or picking them up after school for soccer practice. Dismissing the idea as silly and wishful thinking, she smiled and turned slightly back to the door to his office. “Well, if there isn’t any other information you need, I’ll get back to work,” she said, again turning slowly and moving toward the door. She walked across the vast expanse of Sid’s overwhelmingly masculine office, nervously aware of him watching her. Her hand was on the door knob when she stopped once again, tense and biting her lower lip in indecision. But what if he wasn’t with someone else? She turned and looked back at the forceful man sitting behind his large, polished desk. He looked so elegant and powerful. The man radiated sexuality in a way she’d only read about in books. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome but those words just seemed completely inadequate to describe Sid Matthews, owner of Solara. Incredibly tall at well over six feet, enigmatic, dizzyingly handsome, charming and extremely dangerous were all words she had applied to the man either in her descriptions to her sister or in her mind as she wondered what he was like personally. Machine was another applicable word that would adequately describe the man so she didn’t understand why she was about to act on the thought that popped into her head. She twisted the corner of the file folder, worried that what she was thinking would make her look silly or foolish. Should she? Could she? Sabrina looked into the man’s eyes and saw the flash of something she didn’t understand. With that one look, her heart melted as it always did whenever she was around him. She knew he would turn her down flat, but she wanted to offer the suggestion just in case. Stilling her fidgeting hands, she squared her shoulders and faced him with the small amount of confidence she had built up inside her over the past six months. “Excuse me, Mr. Mathews, I know you’re incredibly busy running the Solara but if you could spare a few hours and don’t have anything better to do, why don’t you stop by my house for dinner tomorrow night?” she suggested. “It will be simple, probably not anything you’re used to,” she said, shrugging her shoulders and almost brushing off the suggestion as soon as she uttered the invitation. She felt silly. He probably had some beautiful woman waiting in the wings ready to while the hours away in bed. Sid watched her for a long moment, a feeling of deep satisfaction entering his body and mind. He liked the way she glanced up at him shyly, as if she were hoping for acceptance, but bracing herself for rejection. “What time?” he asked, leaning back in his big leather chair. Sabrina’s eyes widened in shock and pleasure. A bright smile spread across her face as she replied, “How about six o’clock? I know it isn’t sophisticated to dine that early but most of my friends need to get up early for work the next day.” He nodded, tapping his pen against his chin as he considered her across the room. “I’ll be there,” he said. Sabrina released the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “Wonderful,” she said, excited but terribly nervous at the same time. She pulled the door open quickly, deciding a fast exit was better than falling on the floor in excitement over the prospect of spending time with this dynamic man. “I’ll give directions to Liz,” Sabrina said and smiled brightly again. Sabrina let herself out and gave directions Sid’s secretary, hoping the older woman didn’t detect the butterflies whirling around inside her stomach. She left the executive area and walked slowly down the hallway towards the casino area, careful to hide her excitement. “Cool it, Sabrina,” she warned herself as she walked sedately to her office. “He didn’t have any other plans. It means nothing except that he’s probably bored and wanted some company on Christmas.” Regardless, Sabrina left work early that day and rushed to the store to buy several bottles of wine. She had no idea what he might like and knew that he probably was used to wine that cost more than her weekly salary, but she got the best she could afford as well as some gourmet cheese and a few other items that were nicer than what she’d originally planned to serve. She and her neighbors had agreed on a pot luck dinner and Sabrina had volunteered to make a salad and dessert as well as act as hostess for the event. She’s said it would be simple, but there wasn’t anything wrong with spicing things up a bit, was there? Chapter 2 “Good morning, sunshine,” Nina Matthews called out loudly, opening the door to Sabrina’s small cottage home with her own key. The sisters had exchanged keys the moment they’d both settled into Las Vegas, far away from parents who lived on the East Coast. “Aren’t you awake yet?” Sabrina’s younger sister called up the stair case. Sabrina groaned with the fatigue that kept her magnetized to the soft mattress. Opening one blurry eye wearily, she rolled over to look out her window. When she saw the glorious, bright sunshine, she grimaced. “No,” she called back down and pulled the rose and chintz patterned comforter over her head. Sabrina had been up until two in the morning making a special dessert she’d remembered from her mother’s Christmas dinners. She’d had to try it twice before it looked right. The first one she dumped into the trash since it looked, and tasted, awful. There was no way she’d bring out something like that when Sid Matthews arrived. Nina laughed at the grumpy sounding voice but was unrelenting. “Wake up, sleepy head,” she called back and walked farther into the foyer. “If you don’t get down here, I’ll come up and you know you won’t like that,” her younger sister called up over the banister. Sabrina rolled over and peered out the window just to be sure her sleepy eyes hadn’t deceived her. It was no use. Sunny again. She sighed and pushed the covers back. She knew she’d have to get out of bed. Staying under the covers while her sister was around was always a bad idea. Nina would be merciless, pulling off sheets and blankets, pillows and generally just being a nuisance until Sabrina got out of bed. Better to do it on her own, she knew from past experience. Frowning at the window, she hurried as fast as her muddled mind would allow. “Doesn’t it ever get cloudy here? I want snow, woman!” she said and padded down the stairs in her red Christmas socks and red sleep shirt with a reindeer on the front. Sabrina enfolded her sister in her arms. “Merry Christmas,” she said grumpily, still not recovered from her sleep, or more specifically, her lack of it. Eyeing her sister’s rumpled mass of bright red curls, she chuckled under her breath. “Uh oh. Did you miss your run this morning?” Nina said cheerfully and dropped her presents under Sabrina’s tree then headed for the kitchen to start coffee. Sabrina followed and sat down on one of the stools pulled up to the counter. She pushed her fiery red hair out of her face and propped her head onto her hands. “Yes,” she sighed, grateful to her sister for initiating the caffeine jump start since she’d slept through her physical one. Nina stopped dumping coffee grounds into the coffee maker, her face showing her astonishment over Sabrina’s announcement. “Wow! This is a first. You never miss your morning run. What’s your jogging group going to say?” she joked and dumped an extra scoop of coffee into the machine for good measure. Sabrina’s eyes were already closing and she ignored her sister’s cheerfulness. “Who cares, just speed up the process,” Sabrina yawned. “And could you shave some ice and sprinkle it around outside please? I don’t understand why you like this area so much. There’s no snow. There’s no change in the weather. It is sunny every day!” she said, her tone expressing her frustration. Nina laughed and poured the water into the coffee machine. “Sabrina, it’s the desert. You’re not living on the east coast anymore. You’re living in the world’s largest adult playground. The weather is beautiful. Get used to it.” “Hmmph,” was Sabrina’s only muffled response as she laid her head in her arms on top of the kitchen counter. Nina drove home her point with more statistics, not giving Sabrina a chance to fall back to sleep while the coffee brewed. “The average monthly rainfall here is less than a quarter of an inch. You’re not going to get a whole lot of snow,” Nina went on. She laughed at her sister’s shudder at that tid bit of information. “Sorry, most people learn to like it. Eventually.” Her sister didn’t sound very sorry, Sabrina thought as her eyes faded a little more. “Why are you so cheerful?” she groused. Nina smiled as she leaned against the sink, watching her older sister fall back to sleep on the counter. “Perhaps because it’s a wonderful day and I get to spend some time with you?” she suggested. That opened Sabrina’s eyes wide. “Oh,” she started to say, instantly feeling guilty for being so grumpy when her sister had only sweet things to say about their planned day together. “I’m sor…” she began, but then stopped when she saw her sister’s teasing look. “You’re evil, Nina,” she grumped, her chin falling back onto her palm, not having the energy to hold it up on her own. “What’s going on?” she demanded. Nina laughed delightedly. “I just got a good grade on an exam. Sorry for being in such a good mood, but you’re the perfect target right now. Defenseless.” Sabrina ignored that and changed the subject, lifting her head up to look across the tiny kitchen at her sister. She suddenly remembered why she was so tired and her nervousness instantly reappeared. “Are you sure you can’t come to dinner tonight?” Sabrina asked, the butterflies immediately starting up in her stomach again in anticipation of seeing Sid later in the day. Nina shook her head and took the stool next to her sister. “Sorry. I have to study this afternoon and I have a show tonight.” Sabrina sighed and propped her head onto her hands, elbows resting on the counter as she pushed her disappointment aside. “I know. How’s that going?” Sabrina asked. Nina grimaced, imitating her sister’s propped up chin. “Rough. But that’s okay. I’ll get through it.”" Nina had moved to Las Vegas three years ago, right after graduating from Georgetown University with an undergraduate degree in history. Nina had gone off to Las Vegas, determined to be a glamorous show girl. After only a few months, she’d known that it wasn’t her dream job. The hours were long and hard and the pay was only decent at best. She liked dancing and loved the people she worked with, but was now determined to get a degree in law and was pursuing that with hard driving determination through the University of Nevada, Las Vegas in every spare minute. Her hard work was paying off as she was about to graduate with honors this coming summer. Sabrina nodded, accepting her sister’s schedule. “That’s too bad,” she said. Sabrina looked down at her hands, becoming overly concerned with her perfectly manicured nails. Nina looked at her older sister and knew that something had happened. “Okay, spill it,” she said, leaning over the counter to look into her sister’s eyes. “What’s going on?” “Nothing,” Sabrina replied quickly, avoiding her sister’s too-knowing eyes. “How’s that coffee coming?” she asked and jumped from her stool to pull down the coffee cups. Nina wasn’t fooled. “Sabrina, I know that look and it’s telling me that you’re trying to hide something from me. You might as well tell me before I have to drag it out of you. What is it?” she demanded, hands on her hips as she looked intently at her sister. Sabrina grimaced but her back was to her sister so it went unnoticed. “You’re imagining things. Don’t worry, everything is just hunky dorey,” she countered. She pretended to search for cream while she prayed the blush in her cheeks would fade before she had to turn around and face her sister. Nina’s silence made Sabrina turn around more quickly than she’d wanted. Her younger sister was having none of it and her disbelieving expression showed that. “The last time you used the term ‘hunky dorey’ Lucy Munroe had just glued the ends of your braids together and you were pretending that nothing was wrong as you battled tears of anger, humiliation and frustration. I remember having to go to Lucy’s house and beat her up for being so mean. So something is definitely wrong and you’re not going to get out of telling me. I’ll just find out later and who knows what I’ll run into. Lucy was easy to defeat. I’m guessing by the look on your face that this enemy isn’t as short.” Sabrina hesitated for only a moment. She knew her sister wouldn’t be happy about her announcement but she also knew that Nina wouldn’t give up her nagging until she had the full reason for Sabrina’s nervousness. “I invited Sid Matthews to dinner tonight,” saying the words quickly, both to get the telling over with and in the vain hope that her sister might misunderstand her announcement and move on to another subject. Nina stared at Sabrina for a full minute while her words sunk in. The speed of delivery didn’t obfuscate the message. Her sister understood every word. Immediately, Sabrina could tell that her sister wasn’t happy about the idea by the gathering storm in the younger woman’s expression. “He said, no, right?” she said, and it was more of a statement than a question. Sabrina shook her head, her eyes lighting up with her excitement. “Actually, he’s coming.” Sabrina was so excited, she was almost dancing in reaction. It was too good to be true and despite her fear that she was making a fool of herself, there was also the amazing anticipation that was chasing away all her drowsiness and bad mood over the weather. The Tycoon’s Seduction Plan Chapter 1 Lana stared at her editor in horror. “You want me to change what?” she asked, her body tense and almost shivering with the revulsion she was feeling. The bland cream walls receded and all she could see was the red glare of humiliation, that sickening feeling of dread and horror as the painful memories came back to haunt her. “Sex,” Nancy Kirkpatrick, Lana’s editor replied succinctly, a grin forming on her face as she watched her favorite writer’s shocked reaction. “We need sultry, exciting, passionate sex scenes,” she went on to clarify. Lana blinked and stared. Had her friend and mentor just said the one word in the English language which could horrify her more than any other? Spiders, sharks, snakes….ick. Public speaking…terrifying. But sex? Oh no! That one word sent her mind into a tailspin of painful memories. Lana suspected that her mouth had fallen open but she couldn’t do anything to change her stunned reaction. That word hadn’t really just been uttered, she told herself. It was impossible. Lana tried to convince herself that Nancy had said something else, something that probably rhymed with the word “sex”…all the while wondering if it was possible to spontaneously explode from anger and frustration. Snapping her mouth closed, Lana shook her head, as if she were trying to clear it. “Could you repeat what you just said?” Lana asked as politely as possible, ignoring the trembling that had started in her stomach and was quickly spreading outward. Nancy chuckled, misunderstanding Lana’s expression but she was genuinely amused at her stunned features. “It isn’t like I just said you need to murder the hero, Lana. The stories just need more sex, more ‘oomph’,” Nancy replied encouragingly. “Just add a few sex scenes and everything will be perfect!” It hadn’t been a bad dream, Lana realized. Nancy really had said The Word. Multiple times, actually. It was a word, a concept that Lana had done her best to banish from her mind for the past couple of years. Just hearing it made Lana feel queasy. She shook her head, trying to dispel the nausea that was threatening to overwhelm her. Closing her eyes, she counted to three before opening them again. Nancy was still watching her curiously and Lana dropped her gaze to her hands which were folded demurely in her lap. Taking a deep breath, she accepted that her next statement was potentially life altering, but she just couldn’t change that. “I can’t do it. It’s just not possible.” Nancy laughed, not understanding the depth of Lana’s fears. “Of course it’s possible. I’m sure you have a boyfriend,” she replied, eying Lana’s long blond hair, almond shaped blue eyes and full pouty lips. If Nancy had to name one person who was genuinely beautiful inside and out, it would be this gorgeous woman sitting in her office. She lifted one shoulder casually and said, “Just ask him to help you come up with some new ideas. I doubt he’ll mind reading about his sexual prowess described in a romance novel a couple of months later.” Lana licked her dry lips and shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t have a boyfriend and what’s more, her ex-husband had considered her impossibly frigid in bed. So even if Lana were to go out right now and find a man, the experience would be doomed to failure. She just wasn’t a sexual creature. She’d never been interested in sex in any way and would be completely okay if she never had to deal with the issue again in her life. Unless it meant being homeless, she thought, looking at her editor with rising panic. Lana’s huge blue eyes pleaded with her editor. “But why?” she asked, needing to understand this new change in policy. “Why, all of a sudden, do I need to add sex to my novels?” She stood up and walked to the window of the office, wishing it were big enough to pace in. Unfortunately, the stacks of manuals, plus desk and chairs took up most of the available space so nervous pacing wasn’t an option. Getting a window office in New York was a prime deal. Only the extremely well paid executives rated large offices. “I thought my stories were good just the way they are, without the sex scenes.” She frantically looked around but salvation didn’t magically appear in the office while her hands waved in the air helplessly, “I mean, isn’t just the implication of sex good enough? It always has been in the past.” She crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive move as she looked back at Nancy. “Don’t women want to imagine things instead of being told outright what is going on?” Nancy’s eyes slid away and she sighed. “Apparently, sales have been dropping for the past year so we’ve all been ordered to pull in more sex scenes.” Nancy grimaced as she sat back in her chair, obviously resigned. “You know the old line; sex, money and murder sell.” Economics? Finally, this was something she could understand; something she could sink her teeth into. Having been broke before, desperate for her next meal and a way to pay her rent, she could easily understand money. “Yes, but the economy will pick up. I don’t see why an entire company needs to alter its established practices just on an economic whim which will be over soon anyway. Where’s the integrity? Will the readers who like subtlety want to follow us back when we switch to the non-sexual, but wonderfully romantic plots again?” She sank into the chair she’d just vacated since pacing was pointless. Nancy shook her head, sighing with sadness and frustration. “It isn’t just the economy, Lana. We’ve been bought out because of our contracting sales,” Nancy explained painfully. “I’ve seen how the sales figures have been slipping over the past several months but I hadn’t thought much about it. Just like you, I thought it was only because of the economy and things would pick up soon. But the rest of the industry isn’t feeling the same trend. In fact, the publishing world is flourishing. It’s just us and we’ve now been bought out by one of the big corporations with huge resources that could really help us out with advertising and other expenses. Our line is going away and only those authors who can produce romances with hot, steamy sex will be published in the future.” Lana felt as if a steel band were wrapping around her chest. It was difficult to breathe and she wanted to scream out or cry. She wasn’t sure which. Looking at her editor, she knew that this wasn’t a battle she was going to win. She had to deal with this latest obstacle, no matter how overwhelming it appeared right at the moment. How she was going to deal with it, well, she wasn’t exactly sure. Her mind wanted screaming and arguing but logic told her that she’d get nowhere. Nancy had mentioned that a big corporation had bought out the publishing company and that meant one thing to Lana; profit won out over loyalty. Instead of screaming about the unfairness of the situation, she pasted a smile on her face and stood up. Forcing a bright, optimistic expression even though it felt as if her cheeks were going to fall off with the pain of the exercise, she maintained the pretense, not wanting Nancy to see inside too easily. “Okay, then I think I have some more work to do, don’t I?” She took Nancy’s hand and shook it. “Thanks for your advice,” she said and turned to leave the office. Lana could feel Nancy’s worried eyes on her back but she lifted her chin and walked out of the office with as much dignity as possible. The hallways were teeming with traffic as people moved busily from one task to another. Everyone looked so harried that she didn’t want to break down in front of them. With a stiff upper lip, she moved along the carpet, praying in her mind to just reach the elevators and she could relax. It became a mantra in her head, echoing with each step she took. She made it all the way to the outer hallway which was empty, thankfully, before the tears started. She hurried her footsteps to the lobby, then out to the bank of elevators, hiding her face with her head bowed low, praying that no one would stop and question her. She bumped into something big and solid, then quickly shifted her path to go around the mountain. hurried onto the elevator. “Excuse me,” she mumbled as an apology, then It was blissfully empty for a moment and Lana hoped that she’d have the elevator to herself for the descent. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep the tears at bay and she desperately didn’t want to cry in front of someone who might know her, even as an acquaintance or another writer. Unfortunately, as days go, this one continued to roll out poorly and her wish for a solitary elevator was not granted. A large shadow entered and Lana bowed her head once again, closing her eyes in an effort to stifle the tears that were threatening. The elevator dinged as the doors closed and she took deep, cleansing breaths in the hope that she would be able to hold off on the tears that were threatening. She tried. She really tried hard but it was no use. All the old insecurities, the hateful feelings of inadequacy, all the anger and resentment exploded inside her and she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. The sobs broke through and she turned her body toward the wall of the elevator cab, desperate to maintain some sort of dignity but the effort was failing. Her shoulders shook as the sobs overwhelmed her and she couldn’t stop the flow anymore. Digging in her purse, she searched fruitlessly for a tissue. Nothing but an old receipt, she thought angrily and wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. Unfortunately, the tears continued to fall and the back of her hand was completely inadequate. “Here you go,” a deep voice said and a moment later, a white handkerchief dangled in front of her face. She took it with shaking fingers. “Thank you,” she said as politely as possible under the circumstances. She pretended to glance at the kind stranger but she only saw a large chest where someone’s head should have been. She turned back toward the wall and used the handkerchief to wipe away the tears. Thankfully, she wasn’t wearing much makeup so at least she wasn’t getting powder and foundation all over the man’s immaculate, linen square. The tears continued to flow no matter how hard she tried to stop them. It was just too much, she thought to herself. It wasn’t fair. She’d picked herself up once and come out ahead. impossible! Now she was being asked to do something completely She even hated her pity party, wishing she was stronger and could roll more with the punches. For a while there, she’d imagined herself to be a strong, confident woman and now, here she was, sobbing her frustration out in an elevator. How humiliating! She’d fought so hard for so long and now, to be dumped with this….well, it was all too much to take in so suddenly. Those thoughts only made her cry harder and she lost a sense of where she was. She tried to look around and get her bearings, but her eyes were so clouded with tears, she couldn’t focus on the world around her. “Come along,” the deep voice said and a large, warm, insistent hand was placed at the small of her back, guiding her out of the elevator when the doors opened. “Please,” she tried to say and pull back but the man’s hand was relentless and she was carried out of the elevator and onto the busy streets with his momentum. “Please, I’m okay, really,” she finally said, twisting around and getting away from the hand that seemed to burn through her red cardigan sweater and white turtleneck shirt. She looked up, then up again. And up some more still so she could see the face of the man who was now directing her out of the stream of impatient body traffic on the busy sidewalk. Her eyes widened at the man’s enormous size but she still couldn’t focus on anything and she didn’t want to talk to anyone. All she wanted to do was to rush home and bury her face in a pillow and have a genuine pity party until she’d worked this latest wrinkle out. Taking a deep breath in an effort to stem the tide of tears, she blinked her eyes and sniffled slightly. “Thank you very much for the use of your handkerchief but I’m okay now,” she lied. If she only could have made it a few more minutes without more crying, she might have gotten away. But instead, her eyes did that irritating weepy thing and the man shook his dark head. “You need more than a handkerchief,” he said. “Come along.” He put his hand back to the small of her back and Lana was just too upset to stop him. Besides, she couldn’t see since the tears were blurring her vision once again. She had no idea where he was leading her but this section of New York City was busy so she wasn’t concerned about crime. And he seemed gentle enough. The hand on her back was lightly insistent, but he wasn’t causing her any pain, except for a sensation of awareness, something she didn’t really understand since she’d never felt it before. If she weren’t feeling so miserable, she might have laughed at the idea of a man so large being this gentle. She couldn’t see underneath his suit but anyone this tall probably couldn’t be considered gentle. Even with her low-heeled shoes, her head only came up to his shoulder so he quite literally towered over her. And he certainly wasn’t taking no for an answer, she thought with a slight frown. Suddenly, the noise from the cabs and the masses of people walking along the streets of the early afternoon were gone. He’d pulled her into a restaurant, one of those expensive places that let a patron watch the chaos outside while enjoying absolute peace and tranquility inside. Her mind barely registered the crisp, white linen table cloths and dark, expensive wood as he guided her through the main dining room to a table tucked away in the back. He pulled out a chair for her and ordered her to sit and Lana was just too grateful for the relative privacy and the ability to simply release the emotions she couldn’t contain any longer. She heard him mumble something behind her but couldn’t hear the words. Then he sat down next to her and waited while she continued to cry. She sobbed out all of her frustrations, her fears, the insecurity of what and how she was going to accomplish the next step in her life, unsure of exactly what that next step would even be. It was two years ago all over again. The day Drew had walked out on her had been particularly awful but this day easily made it into second place. She had no idea how long she sat there and cried, but finally the sobs seemed to wear down. With one more swipe, she used the napkin, the handkerchief completely drenched by now and discarded onto the table next to her. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head, closed her eyes. Then another deep breath. She started to feel a little more in control and she lifted her shoulders, attempting to release some of the tension that was tightening her muscles. One more deep breath, inhale, exhale, she commanded of her body. The ritual still worked, she thought to herself and opened her eyes. Wow! Her first thought as she looked across the table at the handsome man watching her was one of stunned, incredible awe. The man sitting across from her bewildered her. He was huge! She had no idea how tall he was, but his shoulders were massive. Since he was leaning back in his chair and his suit jacket had fallen open, one arm braced against the empty chair to his left, she could see that the wide shoulders and obviously muscular chest tapered to a narrow waist and his long legs were stretched out in front of him, his ankles crossed over one another. And he was gorgeous! Goodness, she had been crying for the past…who knows how long…while this handsome man sat there and waited? Good grief! How embarrassing. Realizing that her mouth had been hanging open as she examined this stranger, she closed it abruptly and glanced away, embarrassed beyond anything to find herself in this awkward position. “Um….thank you,” she said finally, getting her mind to function. “I apologize for being so silly,” she got out and looked down at her hands, folding them in her lap and taking another deep breath. “Don’t worry about the apology,” he said, his voice deep and velvety. He leaned forward and looked into her pretty, soft, blue eyes. “Tell me why you were crying. I’m sure it’s a fascinating story and I’m eager to hear it.” Victor Davenport watched in fascination as the tiny, prim woman with beautiful eyes that showed her every thought and lips that were full and luscious, tried to pull herself together. The tears were still in her eyes and on her long, dark lashes, but she was valiantly fighting them now. He wasn’t sure which had caught his attention first, her cute, sexy little bottom in the prim, plaid skirt, or the curtain of long, brown hair that fell down her back, dancing around her as if she were some sort of mermaid out of the water. It was odd, he thought to himself as he watched the emotions flit across her features, he usually hated it when women cried. It was irritating and he’d never allowed it in his presence, knowing that it was more than likely a ploy to manipulate him into buying the woman a piece of jewelry or some other expensive trinket. But this woman’s tears were sincere and since she’d been walking out of his building, he considered her his personal responsibility at the moment. Not to mention she was beautiful. He liked women, thought they were lovely little butterflies and interesting as long as they suited his needs. He respected women in the work place but liked them even more in his bed. At least, the lovely ones. And this one was definitely a looker. He wasn’t sure about her figure since it was covered in the primmest outfit he’d seen in years. The red and black plaid wool skirt ended at her knees and had a coordinating red cardigan sweater covering a neat, white turtleneck shirt. The pearl necklace at her throat and pearl stud earrings were the perfect complement to the outfit. She wore black opaque tights and black shoes with prim, one inch heels. Was she trying to counter the face that practically screamed sensuality? Her cheekbones were high and highlighted her stunning blue eyes but it was really her mouth that captured his attention. They were full and pink and his mind wondered what it would be like to kiss her. As well as many other things. How could a woman with lips like that dress like a school librarian? He watched in fascination as her mouth opened and closed, trying to figure out what she could tell him. He knew the exact moment when she made the decision to lie to him. “I know I made a fool of myself,” she started off. “But I just stubbed my toe.” Lana held her breath, waiting for him to call her on the fib. She was a horrible liar but there was no way she could explain to this man what had really happened. Maybe if he’d been old, ugly or even fat and short or bald, she could have come up with some half truths that would be more believable than the silly stubbed toe line. No one in their right mind would cry that long and hard over a small ache. Yes, she could have passed off some form of the truth to someone less attractive and overwhelming. But not this handsome, dynamic man who had probably never cried in his life. He was too strong and looked like “confidence” was his middle name. She wiggled uncomfortably under his intense, dark gaze and was relieved when he looked away. He ignored her lie and lifted his hand to signal the waiter. Within moments, a martini with two olives appeared at her elbow. Lana looked at the drink, then up at him in confusion. “What’s this?” she asked, not daring to touch it. She rarely drank anything at all and on the few occasions she did, she preferred a glass of wine which she could slowly sip. Generally she could only take half a glass before she put it aside, feeling the impact from only a few ounces. It had been one of the irritants Drew had laughed at her about during their marriage. “It’s a martini,” he explained patiently. “You look like you could use a drink.” Her fingers gently touched the bottom of the glass and shifted it away from her slightly. “I don’t drink,” she explained, but smiled gently to soften the words. “Ever?” he asked. She looked down at the linen tablecloth self-consciously. “Of course I drink occasionally. But not liquor.” Immediately, her body braced to hear the sarcasm about how weak she was and what a lightweight to not be able to drink. Drew had done it so often she could practically write the script. She waited a long moment, tense and frustrated. When he said nothing, she glanced up at him but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking for the waiter or bar tender. He started to raise his hand again but she placed her fingers on his sleeve gently, then pulled them quickly away when she felt the muscles tense underneath the fabric. “No,” she said hurriedly, knowing that drinks in this kind of establishment were probably very expensive. “This is fine,” she said and to counter the question in his eyes she picked up the drink and took a daring sip, showing him that she wasn’t going to waste her present cocktail. She smiled tentatively, showing him that everything was fine. And then the fire started. As the gin slid down her throat, she felt as if she were going to die! Gasping, she glanced around to figure out how to put out the flames but there was no instant relief in sight. Knowing that she could either make a fool of herself again, or drink the horrible liquid, she decided against appearing foolish once again. Daring to tough it out, she swallowed all the liquid and smiled, wishing she were anywhere but here, in front of this sophisticated, elegant man who, quite literally, took her breath away. Her eyes were burning and she was sure she’d scorched off most of the taste buds on her tongue but she blinked rapidly in an effort to show him that she was fine with the current drink. “No need for anything else,” she gasped out. Victor watched in amusement as she fought the fire of the martini. He wasn’t sure why she didn’t want him to order her something more to her liking but wanted to find out why she’d been so upset instead. He couldn’t believe what a fascinating creature she was. He was entranced despite years of cynicism that had made him lose faith in women and humanity. She was an intriguing breath of fresh air. The Sheik’s Rebellious Mistress Prologue Your Majesty: I am sorry to ask you for advice but I have no one to turn to at this point. I have used up all of my resources trying to resolve the situation but nothing has fixed the problem. I am imposing upon your letter of years ago where you offered help raising Electra after her father’s untimely death. Simply put, the child is out of control. She is running with the wrong crowd and, as she reaches her teen years, I fear for her safety and her future. If her father were around, I would trust that he would know how to stop her dangerous behavior. But since his death five years ago, Electra has just become more and more unmanageable. I understand that she is hurting from the loss of her last parent, but I can’t seem to get through to her and teach her to stop. In my old age, I fear I am unable to provide more than love and kisses, which isn’t up to the task any longer. Any advice would be wonderful. Sincerely, Edna Knight Electra’s Grandmother “You called, father?” Dharr Rashid Abbas, Sheik of Sandura asked as he walked into his father’s private study. “Yes,” the king said weakly. “Sit down,” he waved to a chair beside his bed. Dharr immediately sat down, pulling the blanket higher over his father’s chest, the worry eating into him while he maintained a calm exterior for his father’s benefit. “Read this,” the king said, handing the letter to Dharr. Dharr read through the words quickly, then glanced at his father. “This is your ward? The girl you have been caring for since the incident?” “Yes. The bullet was meant for me but her father selflessly dove in front of me, protecting me at the cost of his own life.” No expression came over Dharr’s face, but the assassination attempt had dramatically changed his way of looking at security issues. “The mother died years earlier, correct?” “That’s correct. It will be up to you to ensure for this girl’s safety now.” Dharr suppressed the horror that his father’s words provoked inside him. He shook his head confidently. “No father, you will survive this bout just as you have all the others. You need to have hope and be strong.” The king smiled weakly but then became serious again. “You owe her your life as well. Without the sacrifice of her father, you would have been king years ago. Now that you have had time, you are ready to carry on the throne. You are strong and powerful which would not have been the case if I had died that time. Her father’s sacrifice allowed me more time to guide you and teach you about the world and ruling our kingdom.” “You are still strong,” Dharr commanded sternly as if the force of his voice could make it so. The king took his son’s hand earnestly, wanting to make sure the responsibility was understood. “Listen, my son. You must protect this girl as I have done. She is now your ward. She has only her grandmother. There is money being sent for her care every month but if she ever needs anything else, you must ensure that she is cared for and protected.” “I will see to it, father,” Dharr said immediately. “The grandparents are very nice, but are also older than I am. They can’t be expected to turn this wild child into a presentable adult. It will be up to you. They will give her the love she needs. You will give her the protection.” “Yes, father,” Dharr agreed. “I will set someone upon the task immediately.” “Good.” The king’s eyes shut and Dharr froze in his seat until he noticed the slight rise and fall of his father’s chest. Breathing more easily, Dharr stood up and walked quietly out of the bedroom and down the palace hallways to his own office. Handing the letter to his aide he said, “Put some body guards on this woman. Her name is Electra Knight. I believe she is about sixteen years old. The guards should protect her around the clock and pull her out of any trouble she gets into. She should be guarded as if she were my sister.” The aide quickly took the letter while efficiently writing down the instructions at the same time, nodding his head as well. “I will make it happen.” “Tonight,” Dharr commanded. “Yes, Your Highness.” Chapter 1 Eight Years Later Electra Knight stood in the small but elegant restaurant feeling nervous but determined. “This has to work,” she whispered to herself before taking a sip of hot coffee. The caffeine immediately went to her system, giving her an alertness she’d been lacking earlier. The stress of preparing for this meeting, and all it could do for her future, had kept her up last night worrying. Looking straight ahead, she went through her speech one more time although she’d rehearsed it over and over again. She didn’t look to her right or left, knowing the sight of the bulky men seated at nearby tables would only make her furious and resentful. She needed all her wits about her in order to make this work and negative emotions would only fog her brain. She had only five minutes with King Dharr Abbas. Five minutes to convince the man to get rid of the guards. They were destroying her life and driving her crazy in the meantime. Pulling the newspaper forward, she idly skimmed through the front page articles. She was a half hour early for her appointment and she really should check the job openings. Unfortunately, her focus was not on the words describing possible jobs but on her upcoming interview with the man whose orders had destroyed what little was left of her normal childhood. He’d stolen her father’s life and then, in an attempt to ease a guilty conscience, had placed guards on her around the clock. As if the guards could take the place of the man she’d lost! It was ridiculous and she had to make it stop before more of her life was turned upside down by the ridiculous guards. Eight years ago, the men had showed up unexpectedly at a party she’d been attending. It had been horribly embarrassing since she was playing spin the bottle and was thrilled when the bottle had stopped spinning on Danny Miller, the cutest boy in school. She was just about to lean over and kiss him when one of the men came down into the basement where they were playing the relatively innocent game. The man standing at the bottom of the stairs didn’t do anything at all. He simply stood there, his arms crossed over his chest watching Electra. All the others in the room were completely intimidated, as she was but Electra was the only one willing to stand up and question the man. “Excuse me, what can we do for you?” she asked, planting her hands on her slender, sixteen year old hips. “I’m here at the request of your grandmother and Prince Abbas.” Electra’s jaw immediately dropped. “Are you serious?” At the time, the prince’s name only reminded her of the man her father had worked for and lost his life for, taking a bullet meant for the king. Resentment welled up inside her at the representative of the man who, in her teenage mind, had killed her father. “Absolutely, miss,” the man said, his face impassive as he looked down at her. “For what purpose?” she demanded, irritated immediately at her grandmother’s interference. King What’s-His-Name was only a face in a far away country. Her grandmother was here, close by and therefore, Electra determined that she was a much better target than a faceless ruler. The guard at the bottom of the stairs looked at her impassively, not impressed with her teenage hostility. “I am here to protect you. From yourself if necessary,” he clarified, his eyes moving to the teens behind her. Electra didn’t like the sound of that. “My grandmother requested a goon to stand watch over me? That’s ridiculous. I can take care of myself.” Her tone was purposefully insulting but the man didn’t even blink. “I believe your grandmother thought differently,” was all he said, his dark eyes looking across to her with no emotion. Her fists balled up under her arms and she considered punching the man, but his bulging muscles would probably protect him. “And do I have any say in this matter? I mean,” she harrumphed, looking back at her friends and Danny in particular to gain support, “no one here is going to do anything wrong,” she lied. The man didn’t respond. His silence only infuriated her more. Electra was known throughout school as someone who spoke her mind, was daring and challenged authority. This was obviously not going as it normally would. “Well, what’s your name?” she asked, mimicking his crossed arms, her anger increasing several notches with his uncommunicative demeanor and inability to be intimidated or even irritated by her attitude. Usually, she was quite adept at producing some sort of emotion in all the people she met, either frustration, irritation or outright anger. She liked that one the best. People’s guard came down when they got angry and she could get away with more things. “You may call me Micha.” Electra eyed the man carefully for a long moment. “You work for me?” “In a sense,” he responded. “Good,” she brightened, her face breaking out into a bright smile. “Then head on upstairs and wait for me there. I’ll be up in a while.” The man didn’t return her smile. He simply stood his ground, unblinking as he watched her. Her hands dropped and she waved them forward as if he were a heard of sheep she was trying to get out of the road. “Go on! Get out! I don’t want you down here,” she said, becoming embarrassed that the man was intimidating her friends, and more importantly, Danny. When he didn’t move, she got angry. “What? Are you some sort of baboon? Get out of here! This isn’t your house. You can’t be here like this.” Her best friend cleared her throat. “Ellie, maybe we should all head home,” she suggested from behind Electra. That only roused her temper more. She’d probably missed her opportunity to experience her first kiss, but there were always other opportunities and she meant to make one here, tonight, with Danny! “No. This is ridiculous. This man shouldn’t be here. I have no need of his protection so he should go. Not us.” The other boys and two other girls laughed self-consciously. One of them said, “Electra, I’m not sure how you’re going to get that man to move, but I’d better head home. I have homework to do.” The others chimed in with similar excuses and Micha moved slightly to the right, allowing them to ascend the bare, wooden stairs to the main level of the house. “Fine,” Electra spat out. “I’d better get home as well.” She walked around the man, unsure of what he would do to follow her. She pulled her keys out of her purse and offered a wan smile to her friend. “I’m sorry about this. I’ll get it straightened out with Gran.” Electra walked up the stairs sadly, knowing that her chance with Danny was gone. There might be others, but this one was lost and it was painfully embarrassing. Out in the cool, autumn evening, she looked back at Micha and smiled secretly. With her keys in her hands, she unlocked her dilapidated car and dove inside. Slamming the keys into the ignition, she turned it over and sped away as quickly as possible. Racing through the drowsy streets, she sped along, eager to lose the man who had ruined her kiss with Danny, the man of her dreams. Unfortunately, luck was not on her side. As soon as she turned the corner, the sirens and lights started flashing in her rear view mirror. “Oh, no!” she said to the darkness. Pulling over, she knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to try and out-race the police. Adding insult to injury, the black Land Rover pulled up behind the police officer. Without letting her into the conversation, Micha and the police officer spoke softly. Electra tried to hear the conversation with her window rolled down but nothing came along. She was hoping Micha was convincing the officer that she shouldn’t get a ticket. Could he? Would he? No luck. “May I see your license and registration, Miss?” the officer said sternly. Fifteen minutes later, the officer came forward again, handing her the ticket for reckless driving. A moment later, Micha was opening the door to her car and pushing her into the passenger seat. “I’ll drive,” he said and started the engine, waving to the officer who immediately laughed before getting back into his cruiser. “What are you doing?” Electra demanded. “Put your seatbelt on,” was Micha’s only reply. First the lost kiss, the not-lost ticket, the shoving aside and now an order? “No!” she said adamantly. He didn’t even shrug as he said calmly, “Then we sit here until you do.” Electra’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t do that!” Micha did not respond. He simply waited, staring out the front window with teeth grinding patience. The battle of wills was soon won that night, but Electra was unwilling to accept defeat in the war. Unfortunately, she didn’t know that twenty-four hour surveillance had been posted on her. She discovered that night that sneaking out of her window was a pointless endeavor. As she climbed out the window and shimmied down the tree, strong arms reached up and simply plucked her from the lowest branch, then tossed her over his shoulder and carried her right back to her room. There were five different body guards that protected her, drove her to and from school since the reckless driving incident had her license revoked for two years, and worst of all, rode with her on her very few dates that happened after that night. In college, they slept in a dorm room across the hallway from her and followed her to all her classes. They waited outside the rooms for her to reemerge, sat at other tables in the library, close but not too close. They tailed her on her dates and made her life safe, but utterly miserable. She went through college and graduate school, all with perfect grades since none of her friends could convince her to defy her guards and none dared to contradict the men who forced her to study when they thought she was misbehaving. They tested her on all her classes, pushing her harder than the professors to succeed. Now, it was all down to this meeting with a man she’d never met and had grown to hate over the years. She had learned to accept her guards, had even grown to understand their position and respect their abilities. But she’d never liked the fact that they were there, always with her, always protecting and pushing her. They were all wonderful men, but she hated the imposition they were putting on her lifestyle. She’d just wanted a normal life and that had been impossible with personal body guards two feet away. And now that she was ready to enter the workforce, she couldn’t very well go to a job interview with one of them tailing behind her. She’d never get a job. Every employer would be completely intimidated by the fact that she was protected around the clock. “Electra! I’m over here,” Susan Reyes called out from the small coffee shop, waving her hand. Electra spied her friend and walked through the tables, a bright smile lighting up her face. “Look at you!” she exclaimed, eyeing her friend’s business suit and name plate that announced she was a lead clerk for the hotel. “I’m so impressed!” she cried out, swallowing the jealousy that surged up. She was genuinely happy for her friend, but also wished for the same kind of opportunities. Susan laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance. You’re going to be wonderfully convincing for your meeting in a little while.” She smiled as she looked across the small, linen covered table at her friend. “And let me just say that your choice of outfits is smashing! The pink color looks wonderful with your skin tone and brings out the green in your eyes.” Electra glanced down at her suit and smoothed the pink wool covering her lap. “Are you sure it’s okay? I changed about four times, the outfits ranging from defiant jeans to a severe black pant suit.” Susan nodded her head emphatically and poured Electra some coffee from the decanter already on the table. “It’s perfect. The pink will show him you’re not afraid of your feminine side but the cut of the suit demonstrates that you’re smart and mean business.” Electra sighed and grimaced slightly. “I’m not sure I wanted to show him my feminine side. That might be a mistake.” “Nonsense. You look great.” Electra smiled at the encouragement and changed the subject. No matter what she was wearing, it was too late to change now. She was meeting King Abbas in an hour and it had taken her forty five minutes to get here as it was. Knowing that worrying about her outfit was a futile exercise, she quickly changed the subject. “So tell me about this new boyfriend of yours,” she said, adding cream and sugar to her coffee. Susan’s eyes closed as if she’d just taken a bite of rich, dark chocolate. “Oh, he’s just wonderful. His name is Barry and he’s an accountant for one of the big firms. We met at last week’s happy hour and I have found over the past seven days that he’s a wonderfully charming man, full of intelligence and humor and makes me feel all giddy inside.” Electra sighed with longing. “Was that the one at O’Hooligan’s? I didn’t notice you with anyone last week,” she said. Her friend’s eyes shuttered. knowing this was a touchy subject. “You left early,” Susan replied carefully, Electra grimaced again. “I had to. Micha was scaring everyone away.” Her comment only made her more resolute to make sure the meeting today worked out the way she planned. Susan nodded and tried to hide her expression. “He’s a little intimidating.” Clearing away the irritation over her guards’ imposing disposition, she changed the subject back to something more interesting. “How many dates have you been on with this new Mr. Wonderful?” Susan smiled and her eyes glowed with excitement. “We’ve been out with each other every day and night for the past week,” she enthused. “He meets me for lunch and we talk and laugh about our days,” she explained, closing her eyes as she thought back to her dates with Mr. Wonderful, “then he picks me up after work and we either go out to dinner or we cook at each other’s flats. He’s incredibly romantic.” Electra’s eyes widened in fascination. “Nights?” she confirmed. Susan nodded emphatically. “Yes! He’s a great lover. Very generous and sweet.” The Sheik’s Missing Bride Chapter 1 The twig breaking softly to her left instantly alerted Sarila Tedrum. Her ears were on alert and she sat very still on the almost deserted beach, trying to hear other sounds. She had been calmly watching the sun set on the horizon for the past half hour. Now it was almost completely dark with the smells of the night starting to creep up onto the beach. With her ears on alert, she tried to listen for any other suspicious sounds. The only thing she heard for several minutes was the waves crashing against the sand and the wind blowing her long, black hair off her shoulders and back. Sarila hurriedly let the sand the sand sift through her fingers then dusted them off as she stood up, intending to head back to her apartment as quickly as possible. She didn’t think she was in danger, but she didn’t want to push her luck. It was dusk and the beach was basically deserted by now. Another noise caught her attention, this time from the right. She bent down, trying to appear casual as she pretended to examine a shell. This second sound changed her feeling of unease to one of severe alarm. She could barely hear anything now because her heartbeat was pounding in her ears and the taste of fear rose in her mouth. She told herself to calm down and concentrate. She couldn’t let the fear take over or she was already through. Sarila took a deep, calming breath and straightened, trying to figure out where the threat was now. As she rose, she saw a shadow off to the right and she took steps in the opposite direction. Her shoes were on the steps behind her and her motorcycle was only a few more feet after that. If she could get to her shoes, she could then sprint to her motor cycle and get away. Unfortunately the suspicious shadow was too close for her to make it to safety. Whoever it was, they were very large and they were moving with her, starting to close into a circle around her. “Calm down,” she told herself softly. “You know what to do.” Sarila moved cautiously and made sure to keep the shadow in her line of sight at all times. Her muscles tensed in preparation, she looked around and calculated the distance. Every nerve in her body was tingling with fear and anticipation of the fight. She worked her way closer to the shadow, hoping she appeared unconcerned and, even better, unaware, of the threat. Then, without warning, she reached out quickly, kicking hard with her heel then spinning around at her waist and grabbing the man’s hand, twisting it quickly behind his back. The man landed with a quiet thud onto the sand and oat grass. “What do you want?” she whispered, careful to not alert the others she’d heard a little farther off. The man didn’t move, nor did he speak to answer her question. She tightened her hold. “What are you doing here?” she demanded more forcefully. A deep voice laughed softly behind her. “He will not answer you, nor will he defend himself, Princess,” the voice said. Sarila gasped as the voice moved closer. From the current distance, he was only a very large, very intimidating shadow but she knew that voice. It was from her past. A voice she swore she’d never have to listen to again. And it terrified her now more than the threat she’d been defending herself against only moments earlier. “Who are you?” she called to the approaching shadow, not releasing her hold on the man who was still face down in the sand and weeds. “Ah!” the voice said, feigning offense at her words. “You wound me, Sarila. I can’t believe you don’t remember me. I definitely remember you,” the voice said, unquestionably closer now. The words were teasing and that only confirmed her worst fears. “Kasar?” she gasped, not wanting him to validate that the voice belonged the man she’d been running from for the past six years. “What are you doing here?” she asked, wishing her voice didn’t sound so scared and pathetic. Sarila’s world started spinning out of control, her fear making her chest ache painfully. She immediately stood up and stepped back from the man prone in the sand, her feet tripping over his legs but she didn’t glance down to find out where safe ground was. Kasar was here. That meant nothing was safe anymore. She watched more closely as the large form became larger still as he approached. His size was overwhelming and she was grateful when he stopped several feet away. Any closer and she would be craning her neck to look at his face, and that was a feeling she didn’t really like to experience. She could see his white teeth even in the dim lights from the parking lot as he smiled and moved even closer. “I’ve come for you, of course.” She shook her head, too many awful scenarios screaming through her mind. She tried desperately to hide the fear in her voice but knew it was coming across despite her best efforts. “Why though? And how did you find me?” The man laughed again and stepped closer. His eyes glanced down to the man slowly getting up off the ground. Kasar didn’t bother to answer her question as he arrogantly looked at her face, noting the long, black hair blowing in the soft breeze, lifting it and causing it to dance around her face and shoulders. Sarila’s almond shaped eyes were a light, crystal blue and he could still see their color against her tanned face. They stood out against her high cheekbones that had developed in the six years since she’d been gone. Sarila noted his examination and wondered if he was seeing the gawky, skinny teenager she’d been before leaving home, or if he was seeing the woman she was today. Why did she care? She admonished herself for even having the thought and pushed her hair back off of her shoulders, defiantly facing the man she’d been running away from for the past several years. When he was done with his arrogant perusal of her features, he looked back at the man flexing his arm and dusting himself off. “You’ve done a number on my body guard. I’m impressed with your skills at self-defense. remember martial arts being part of your curriculum.” I don’t Sarila glanced away, but only for a moment to see for herself that the man was okay. “No, there wouldn’t have been a need for me to know how to defend myself back home, would there? I’d be surrounded by body guards, just as you are now,” she said, almost to herself. She watched the body guard for another moment, knowing he was embarrassed that he had been taken down by a female. He stood up stiffly and walked quickly away, taking a new sentry post farther from her and Kasar. As soon as he stopped, Sarila noticed the other body guards. They were effectively forming a protective perimeter around Kasar, and probably herself. Suddenly she was self-conscious of her attire. She was only wearing a white bikini, with a gauzy cover up tied loosely around her hips. Despite the fact that the bikini was relatively conservative compared to some of the others that might be seen on the beach during the day, there was still more skin showing than there was covered. Kasar took that moment to notice her attire as well. His eyebrows shot up as he took in her bikini and voluptuous curves. “You’ve grown up in the past six years, Sarila. There is more to be impressed with than your fighting skills.” “Why are you here?” she asked again, crossing her arms over her stomach. She’d prefer to cover her breasts, but he’d know how much he affected her if she did that. Sarila didn’t want to give him any more power than he already had. She could feel the intense magnetic pull toward him. Kasar was the ultimate female fantasy. He was incredibly tall with broad shoulders padded with obvious muscles. Add to his physical attributes were the ability to charm anyone, male or female and an intelligence that could create humor or shred a person to the core with a few well spoken words. It made him a very powerful leader for his country, but also a dangerous man for her peace of mind. He raised one eyebrow as if the question were ridiculous. “For you, of course.” Those calmly spoken words terrified her but she wasn’t going to give in to the fear. She lifted her chin defiantly and ignored the shivers that coursed down her spine. Giving in to the fear and anger would only debilitate her and she needed all her wits about her in order to get out of this situation. Taking a deep breath, she tried to appear calm and unconcerned. “How did you find me?” His white teeth again flashed in the darkness and he laughed gently at her question. Reaching out, he took a lock of hair that was being carried with the wind and wrapped the silky strands around his finger gently. “Do you honestly believe there has been a single moment in the past six years that your location and protection has not been assured, Sarila?” “I go by Sara now,” she said defiantly, pulling her hair free of his clasp. Then his words hit her. Her blue eyes looked at his in the dusk, “Are you telling me that my parents, and you, have known where I have been all this time?” She could barely make out his nod in the darkness. “Why does that shock you?” Sarila sighed, feeling defeated. “Yes. I guess, in retrospect, it shouldn’t surprise me but I had hoped that I was actually making my way by myself.” Kasar didn’t like the slender shoulders that drooped on this proud beauty. He looked down at her dejected face and took pity on her pride. “I don’t believe your parents have helped you in any way,” he said kindly despite himself. “But you are the daughter to a Sultan. No man in your father’s position, or a mother I suppose, would allow his daughter to roam the world without protection. Your father is the head diplomat for Abasar and a very powerful man in our kingdom. You could too easily be used as a weapon against your father.” Sarila noted that he didn’t say against him as well. After all, she was only betrothed to him. Nothing really important, she reminded herself. Straightening her shoulders so he couldn’t see how his words affected her, she brushed her long hair over her shoulder. “Interesting, but irrelevant,” she said and looked up at him. She couldn’t see him clearly in the dim light on the beach, but she could see enough to know that he was still one of the most handsome men she’d ever encountered in her life. She imagined that his dark, black eyes were just as piercing as they were the last time she saw him when she was eighteen. “I can see you’ve grown up physically, but haven’t matured much over the past six years,” he said softly. Suddenly, all the softness was gone and he turned business-like. “Regardless, we have to talk. Please come with me and we’ll discuss an important issue in private.” He turned and immediately started walking up the beach, fully expecting her to follow his order. Sarila braced herself before saying, “No, thank you.” Kasar stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at her. He was more surprised than angered by her defiance. No one, not even rulers of countries, had ever said no to him before. And yet, this tiny, beautiful woman with a figure made for a man’s touch and soft, scared eyes, was telling him no. He almost smiled at her defiance. He didn’t of course. Instead, he pierced her with his gaze, daring her to defy him again. “Sarila, please follow me back to the car,” he repeated in a much softer, but much more menacing tone. “We have a great many issues to discuss. One of very obvious importance,” he pointed out and immediately started walking toward the waiting black cars again. Sarila ignored him as she reached down and pulled on her sneakers, trying to hide her shaking hands. “No, thank you, Kasar.” He was no longer amused but irritated that he’d had to come halfway around the world to find her and now she was challenging him as if he weren’t her future ruler as well as her betrothed. The idea of her disobedience was outrageous in his mind. He turned around and faced her, suddenly losing patience. “So you are eager to be wed, are you?” he snapped. “That is fine with me. I’ll have one of my guards put you in the car and we can be finished with this business,” he said and signaled to the nearest body guard. Sarila watched as the body guard immediately moved forward, ready to do the slightest bidding of Kasar. She quickly backed up, looking for an escape route as the man with bulging biceps closed in on her. “No! What are you doing?” Kasar turned impatiently back to her. “I told you. We must talk. If you don’t wish to talk, then we must finish this business and be done with it.” “Fine!” she yelled when the man was less than five feet away from her. “If you want to talk, we can go back to my apartment. Its close; only about five blocks away. But we’re not getting married,” she said with more confidence than she felt as the man stopped in his tracks, waiting for a signal from Kasar before proceeding. “My intentions exactly,” he snapped and motioned for her to precede him. Sarila finished pulling her shoes on, ignoring the resentment that almost choked her. This was one of the reasons she’d run away six years ago. She’d been determined that she would not be controlled by a man, especially this one. It was infuriating that he could so easily bend her to his will with simple brute strength and she thought quickly of a way to outmaneuver him. An idea formed in her mind as she saw her motorcycle about a hundred feet away. Could she make it? Would he stop her? She didn’t care about the consequences if she didn’t make it. She had to try. There was no way she would allow herself to be bound to him. It was a matter of personal pride and emotional survival. Having made the decision, she calculated the distance. Two more steps, then she’d run. One, two….taking a deep breath, Sarila palmed the key to her motorcycle and ran full out, her feet digging into the soft sand as she pushed herself harder and faster to get out of Kasar’s reach. Her breathing was hard but she didn’t look back, afraid that it might slow her down or scare her too much. Ignoring the helmet strapped to the back and the yells behind her, she threw her leg over the machine, slid the key into the ignition and gunned the engine. As soon as the motor roared to life, she floored the accelerator, speeding off down the street and kicking up tiny pebbles in her wake. She heard someone yell behind her but she ignored it and sped off, her cover up skirt and her waist length black hair flaring out behind her. She looked back as she turned the corner that would lead to her apartment. Kasar was standing on the beach, hands on his hips as he watched her ride away. His body guards weren’t as calm though. As she turned the corner, she saw them all running toward the black, menacing SUV parked behind the limousine, hurrying to follow in her wake. She figured she had less than five minutes before they caught up with her. She increased the speed and drove the two miles back to her apartment. Chapter 2 Once in the relative safety of her apartment complex, she sprinted up the stairs, her breathing coming hard and the panic slowly rising as the seconds ticked by. Grabbing a duffel bag, she crammed some clothes inside, not even caring what they were. Glancing at the clock, she ignored the rest of her clothes, passed on the toiletries and makeup in her desperate need to escape. She only took another second to grab her purse which contained her wallet, then dashed back out the door. Right into a solid brick wall in the form of Kasar. “Oomph,” she said inadvertently as she tried to regain her balance in the hallway. Kasar ignored her gasp of fear and stared down at her. After a long moment, he walked forward, forcing her to back up through her door. His eyes looking down at her were furious and a muscle twitched on his jaw as he took a deep breath, obviously striving for patience. “That was very naughty of you, Sarila. Why the rush?” Sarila backed up quickly, worried about being in his arms for two reasons. She was nervous because she’d run away and he was probably angry about that. She was more terrified of her reaction to his closeness. Despite her fear of him, her body reacted to his male scent. It was earthy with just a little spice. It invaded her nose and tempted her, as did the firm muscles underneath her hands. Backing farther into the room so she wouldn’t be touching him anymore, she searched for some way to calm him down while at the same time, searching her brain for another escape route. There was no other alternative in her mind. This was the man she’d thought herself in love with as a teenager. He was half the reason she’d run away from her home and family after seeing him kissing another woman in the garden one night. Her jealousy had been so uncontrollable, she’d run from the garden crying. Wringing her hands together and stumbling over furniture as she walked backwards into her apartment, she tried to reason with him or at least appeal to his mercy. “I can’t marry you, Kasar. Please don’t do this. I’d make you an awful wife,” she said, walking carefully backwards with him matching her step for step. They were finally inside her apartment and he closed the door quietly. He didn’t stop until she backed up against a chair. She tried to slide to the left which would allow her to put more space between their bodies, but he trapped her by placing an arm on either side of her hips. Sarila glanced frantically around, desperate to get away from his heat, his intense gaze and, most of all, her overwhelming attraction to the man that even six years of separation had failed to diminish. His eyes searched her face, noting the slight flush on her cheekbones. “What does a man do to control a woman, Sarila?” he asked softly. Pushing her chin up, she refused to show him how scared she was. “You don’t! Women are not pawns that are on this earth to do what you want them to whenever you snap your fingers!” Sarila could feel her whole body shaking and leaned farther back. But that position only drew his eyes downward as her breasts thrust forward. “They are human beings with minds of their own. Definitely not yours to control.” The end was barely a whisper as he moved infinitesimally closer to her. “You really are lovely,” he said, his voice husky. “Kasar, this is silly,” she whispered, trying to ignore the magnetic pull of his body. “Let me go. You don’t want me but I’m sure there are many women who would love your….attentions,” she said breathlessly. His response was a slow, sensuous smile and he looked down at her breasts. “A challenge, Sarila?” he asked, one eyebrow rising as he glanced at her hardened nipples through the thin, white material of her bikini top. “Are you trying to tell me that you are not one of those women who would love my… attentions? Have you ever known me to back away from a challenge?” Blackmailed by the Billionaire Chapter 1 Information. It was arguably more powerful than money, Nikolai thought as he put the report down on the desk, his fingers forming a pyramid as he considered the data he had just received. A sense of triumph filled Nikolai. His midnight blue eyes looked away from the words on the report he’d just been given and out to the stunning view of the sun rising over the buildings of London, enjoying the feeling of triumph as it washed over him like a satin touch. Patience had always been his best asset, he thought. And now, revenge would be sweet. Tabitha MacComber would beg for mercy. The only question was whether Nik would allow it. His mind remembered her smiling green eyes, her flawless, porcelain skin and a body any man would happily die to possess. Of course, hidden behind that stunningly beautiful façade was a cunning and mercenary nature that had blindsided him four years ago. Nikolai Andretti smiled coldly as he looked back down at the stock prices on his computer. It was not a smile of amusement although it was filled with deep satisfaction. His eyes quickly scanned down the list of stock prices. When he found the line he was looking for, he raised one eyebrow and mentally did some calculations. He had waited patiently for this situation to come about and now that victory was almost his, he wanted to savor the feeling, let it slide down like a woman’s tender caress. It had actually taken less time than he’d anticipated but the keenness of victory was no less satisfying for the speed with which her downfall had come. Setting the delicate china cup filled with fragrant coffee down on the white linen table cloth, he reflected on how the world seemed to right itself, provide opportunities. With a deep sense of amusement and irony, he leaned back in the leather chair and considered his options. Because of the mess she was currently in, there were several possibilities open to him, and all would end in the same way. He just had to choose the most effective. He would have to conduct the transactions discreetly, he knew. No one could know about the stock purchases until he was ready to reveal his hand. Quickly analyzing the options and calculating the costs as well as the risks associated with each scenario, he made a decision. Raising the phone, he gave curt instructions to his personal assistant, then ended the call abruptly, knowing his assistant would be able to fill in the blanks accurately. Standing up, he looked out one of the floor to ceiling windows that made up three walls of his office. Being on the top floor of this particular skyscraper, he had an extraordinary view of London. Today though, he saw nothing of the striking horizon as the sun rose over the vast city. His mind’s eye was remembering the perfect beauty of Tabitha MacComber, her startling blue eyes, her tiny waist that flared gently out to slender hips, ending in long legs that a man could fantasize about forever. The lying, deceitful bitch that still occasionally haunted his dreams would finally be exorcised from his mind. He wanted her. After seeing her smiling face in the report, he had to accept that reality. Tabitha MacComber was incredibly lovely but also the only woman who had tricked him so completely, gotten under his skin and then made a fool of him. Nikolai considered himself extremely experienced when it came to women specifically and people in general. He knew most of their tricks and thought they were amusing at times. But Tabitha had duped him. Her air of sweetness and fragility, innocence, had definitely deceived him. But now it was his turn to hold the reins. He would have her, on his terms, on his turf, for as long as he wanted her. And there would be nothing she could do to stop him this time. Chapter 2 “Good morning, Nancy,” Tabitha MacComber said, smiling brightly at the woman sitting just outside the executive board room. Tabitha instantly noted the worried look in the other woman’s soft, brown eyes. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked with curiosity. Nancy had been the receptionist at MacComber Industries for longer than Tabitha was alive and she was always cheerful and ready with a smile. Nancy nodded, but the anxiety stayed in her eyes. “I’m fine, Ms. MacComber.” Tabitha could see that the woman was nervous but had no idea why. She made a mental note to stop by and talk with her, find out if there was something genuinely wrong. Maybe there were problems with her daughter’s first pregnancy. At the moment, Tabitha was running a few minutes late so she pushed through the double oak doors that had stood guard outside the board room of MacComber Industries for the last hundred years. The silence that greeted her as she breezed through the door almost made her steps falter, but she continued down the long room to the opposite end of the table, pasting a bright smile onto her face. “Gentlemen,” she said to the fourteen grim-looking men who were already seated at the polished oak conference table. The fact that they were all seated at the appointed meeting time was unprecedented. “What an extraordinary event to be starting on time!” she joked. When she received no response, she quickly placed her pink purse under the table and opened the leather notebook expectantly. “Is something wrong?” she asked, looking at all the faces. “I can’t imagine why everyone is so tense,” she started to say and tucked a blond curl back behind her ear. “After all, the stock price is finally creeping back up. That’s good news as far as I can tell,” she said, smiling cheerfully at the rest of the table. Again, no response. Only forbidding faces looking down at their notebooks. “Charlie,” she said, turning to grin gaily at a man mid way down the table. “Why are you looking so glum? You should be celebrating. Didn’t your son just marry Melody Miller down in Australia? You should be thrilled. What a match!” she said, hiding her abhorrence for society marriages. She knew these men lived and died for them. She shivered in revulsion but pushed the memory of her own failed marriage aside. When she only received a tense smile from Charlie, she turned to another man who was sitting closer. “Mark, didn’t you just receive news of grandchild number five? That’s wonderful to hear!” she enthused. Mark nodded and she received a brief glimpse of a smile, but it quickly faded. The tension was odd and she wished she could figure out what had happened to cause such behavior in men who generally joked and laughed about numerous issues before finally getting down to business. “Okay, I give up,” she laughed. “Does someone want to enlighten me as to why it seems that the sky is falling?” Nelson Miller cleared his throat and sat forward. Nelson was the current chief operating officer of MacComber Industries and a sweet, if somewhat hesitant, man in his early forties. She noticed him glance behind her momentarily and hesitate but she focused all of her attention on the man, knowing that there was only a landscape painting on the wall behind her. “It’s like this, Tabitha,” he started, his fingers nervously swiping at the lock of hair that had fallen free of its usually perfect setting. “You remember how we invested in that factory in Dorset?” he started off. “Of course,” she smiled. “Are you telling me that I was wrong? That the factory has actually started to show a profit? Because if that’s true, I think I owe you a very large apology,” she said, smiling encouragingly at him. “I didn’t think that plan would work and it was a large amount of money to throw at a risky scheme.” Nelson leaned forward, his face turning red all of a sudden. “Now see here,” he started off, huffing slightly in his anger, “it would have worked. There were just some complications.” He glanced behind her again, then down at his paper. “The distribution venues just weren’t adequate for our needs,” he explained. “And there was poor management that we weren’t aware of.” Tabitha smothered a spark of anger. “I thought you said that you’d met with the management of the factory and they were quite adequate,” she countered, maintaining her smile despite her frustrations with the man’s continued incompetence. “Well, the deal was about to close and I didn’t….” he trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. Tabitha’s eyes sharpened and she had to struggle to not show her irritation at the man. “You mean you didn’t even speak to the management of the factory? Nelson, do you think that was wise? I even offered to go out there and talk with them before the purchase deadline.” Nelson stood up and banged his fist on the table. “You are a woman,” he yelled angrily. “You couldn’t possibly have the skills necessary to judge a man’s character and tell if he is an adequate manager.” Tabitha bowed her head, realizing that their sexist attitudes were welling up. Some of the other men were actually nodding, their frowns deepening and she had to grit her teeth. “Well, then. From what I’m gathering as I read between the lines, the purchase of that particular factory was a mistake. Am I correct?” she asked, looking around the table at the gentlemen. Many of them looked away. Some pushed their pens or papers around. But none of them acknowledged her question. “I think I was the one that was cautioning against this purchase,” she said evenly, shuddering at the cost of the factory and wondering what kind of financial impact this setback would have on the company. “Okay. We made a mistake,” she said, including herself in that decision. She hadn’t argued loudly enough against the issue so she was part of the problem. “What do we have to do to clean it up?” she asked to the group of men. When none of them answered, she glanced to the other side of the table. “George, what do you think? How soon can we sell off the factory and recoup our losses?” she asked. Nelson shook his head. “You’re out of your league, Tabitha. Why don’t you run off and go shopping and let us handle this situation?” he said, his tone patronizing. “I’ll even take you out for dinner once the dust has settled.” Tabitha gripped her pen until her knuckles were white, struggling to hold her temper. She ignored his offer of dinner and continued, “Well, it looks like we’re all in a bit of a pickle, wouldn’t you say? And I doubt sending me on a shopping trip is going to solve that problem. Do any of you?” she asked, looking at each of the elderly men, disheartened to know now what they actually thought about her. The chuckle behind her was terrifying in its familiarity and an electric shock immediately went through her body at the sound. Was that…..no. Impossible, she told herself, frozen in the big, leather chair. He wouldn’t be here….there’s no way….! It just couldn’t be, she told herself. Her breath caught in her throat and her blood seemed to freeze in her veins as her mind recognized the voice behind that laughter. Even her body understood who was behind her although her mind still refused to believe what every cell was telling her. It simply couldn’t be him. She turned bit by bit, the world moving in slow motion as she swiveled in her leather chair to face the owner of the deep voice. Praying that it wasn’t so, her eyes widening as she took in the man leaning casually against the wall. “You!” she spat out, her whole mind instantly forgetting about the fourteen men seated around the table as her world focused on the one man that had been behind her for the past fifteen minutes. Nikolai Andretti! “What are you doing here!” she demanded, standing up in an effort to gain some height and lose some of the fear that was quickly spreading throughout her body, freezing her mind. How could this man make her instantly feel something so strong? It had been four years! Couldn’t the impact of his presence dim somewhat? He didn’t rise to her angry challenge, one eyebrow rising slightly the only indication that he had heard her question. He didn’t even bother to stand up, but continued to lean casually against the wall, appearing as if this whole mess was highly amusing to him. “Good morning, Tabitha. I see the heart grows fonder with time, does it not?” he asked sardonically. Tabitha’s whole body started shaking as she took in the presence of the man that could evoke so many memories, so many painful, dreadful and yet also beautiful memories for her. She pushed those thoughts and feelings aside and squared her shoulders. “I’m not sure who invited you here but it is completely inappropriate. This is a board meeting and only board members and large stock holders are permitted,” she stated slowly, afraid that her voice might fail if she didn’t concentrate on each syllable. Her stomach muscles tightened as his sensuous mouth eased into a triumphant smile. His midnight blue eyes darkened to black. “Ah, pethia meu,” he said, pushing away from the wall and walking toward her. He was so tall, Tabitha had to push her head back in order to continue to hold his gaze. “As you so aptly put it a few moments ago, the stock price has gone up considerably. Have you not stopped to consider how that occurred?” Tabitha opened her mouth, her mind frantically working to come up with a plausible explanation. “I assumed it was the factory coming on line.” His smile was lethal, giving her ample clues that her assumption was incorrect. “And now that you know that the factory has not come on line as expected, is in fact pulling your company into bankruptcy, what would be your next guess?” Tabitha thought hard, wishing she could come up with some other reason. Frantically working through all the scenarios, she came to the final, and worst, possibility. Her eyes snapping to his in disbelief and horror. “No!” she whispered. Nikolai smiled again, his sexy mouth curving in triumphant pleasure. “I see you’ve finally come to the correct conclusion,” he said with a great deal of gratification. “That’s impossible!” she countered. “All of these men own stock and, combined, they have a controlling interest. There’s no way you could be a stock holder with any kind of power in this company.” Nik looked around at the men, none of whom were willing to hold his gaze. “I’m afraid you have put your trust into the wrong source,” he said softly. “Again.” He let those words float in the air for a long moment before continuing. “Each of these men were more than willing to sell their stock in your precious company. I now own fifty-five percent of the stock. It is mine to do with as I please,” he said, his eyes hard and brilliant with the success of his acquisition. Tabitha pulled back, her hatred for this man and all he knew about her was too painful to endure. “Why on earth would you bother with a company so small?” she demanded. “You’re reputation is that you take over billion dollar companies. What is the appeal of MacComber Industries? Don’t you have bigger fish to mercilessly gobble up?” she demanded. “Our revenue is only in the millions. We employ less than five hundred people. I would have thought we were beneath your notice,” she said, knowing that he could buy and sell MacComber Industries a hundred times over and never even blink at the impact to his personal bank balance. He shrugged his shoulders slightly. “When an opportunity arrives, I jump at it,” he said coolly. It was hard for her to believe anyone could be so casual about an amount of money that, to her, was enormous. But she knew that, to him, it was almost insignificant. “An opportunity for what?” she asked breathlessly. “This is nothing but petty vindictiveness and I’m not going to let you get away with it.” Nikolai surveyed her flushed, angry expression without any outward reaction. “Perhaps this is a conversation we should have in private,” he said softly. “Don’t bother with niceties,” she replied. “I have nothing to say to you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her chin going up a notch in challenge. Without another word, he looked down the board room table at the men behind her. Instantly, fourteen elderly men stood up and hurried out of the room. Within thirty seconds, all of them had disappeared, closing the door softly and leaving Tabitha alone with the one man in the world she hated. “What were you saying?” he asked once they were alone. Her arms dropped in defeat and she couldn’t look up at him. “You have a photographic memory,” she snapped, turning her back on him in a defensive gesture. “You remember exactly what the accusation was,” she said and took several steps away, afraid to let him see her expression. Nikolai smiled and nodded. “Yes. In fact, you are right,” he said, his Greek accent coming through as his amusement surfaced. “Revenge,” he said simply. She spun back around to face him, her eyes searching his dark, mysterious eyes in the hopes that he was joking. The blood actually chilled in her veins when she realized that he wasn’t. Her worst fears had come true. Nikolai being here was bad enough. But that he wanted revenge that was awful. Terrifying! “And what if I told you that revenge has already been had?” she asked, the fear coming through to her voice in the form of a slight break despite her efforts to appear calm and in control of this horrifying situation. Nikolai shook his head. “Ah, my dear Tabitha. I don’t think you know the meaning of the word,” he said, one hand coming up to run a finger down the soft, creamy texture of her skin. “But I intend to remedy that,” he explained. She pulled her face away, desperate to end the touch that, even after so many years, could still heat her body. She was ashamed of her reaction and couldn’t hide the anger from him. “No!” He pulled back abruptly and dropped his hand. “In fact, yes.” He moved away and poured her a glass of icy water from a side table, handing her the glass. Tabitha took it with shaking fingers, unaware of how he could have read her mind so accurately. Drinking the water quickly, she placed the empty glass behind her on the oak table. “What are you telling me?” His smile broadened. “I’m telling you that we have some unfinished business. I intend to close out that brief period in our lives. But this time, we will have a more satisfying end. And we will do it on my terms,” he said. She shivered, the memories of how they had parted coming back to her conscious mind. He chuckled. “I can see that you are thinking about the same memory as I am.” “No,” she said, rubbing her forehead in frustration and an overwhelming need to find a place to hide, perhaps start the day over again with a less horrifying beginning. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” His eyes sharpened, reminding her of painful shards of glass. “Then let me enlighten you,” he started and moved closer so there was barely an inch of space between their bodies. “That last night we shared together, you were all hot and heavy for me, willing to do anything, just as into the moment as I was. Then you stopped, claiming modesty and virtue, something we both know you have neither of!” he said calmly, but with venom in his eyes. “Since you decided to go off and marry someone else, I was left hanging.” “I won’t believe you were alone for long!” she spat at him, the pain of her last phone call to him hitting her with painful clarity. “If in fact, you were ever waiting on me to come to your bed?” she asked, stepping back so she could breathe. “I’m guessing there were many women already clamoring for your pathetic brand of romance.” She walked away from the table, needing space away from his body so she could focus. Nikolai followed her, not giving her any room to think, cornering her against the wall. His dark eyes revealed nothing as he said, “Ah, no, my sweet Tabitha. There is no retreat for you. Let me explain exactly what is going to happen. We’re going to make love, you and I. Over and over again. Until I have had my fill of you. And this time, there will be no teasing,” he said harshly. “I will have you whenever and however I want.” Her body reacted strongly but not in the way she wished. Her mind was remembering the exquisitely beautiful kisses they had shared four years ago and her body ached to experience that kind of magic again. Shaking her head to rid herself of those ridiculous fantasies, she turned away from him, not wanting to look at the man who had destroyed her dreams all those years ago. “That’s not possible,” she said, her voice low and pained. His smile was a combination of triumph and male arrogance as he said, “It will still be your choice.” “Then my choice is no. Adamantly no!” she shot back at him. He chuckled at her vehemence. “Perhaps you should hear the terms before making your decision.” “There’s nothing you can say that will convince me to sleep with you,” she said angrily. He reached up and touched her shoulder length, brown, curly hair, capturing a lock between his fingers and rubbing the silken strands, testing their softness. “Since sleeping will be the last thing on my mind when we get to my bed, I will agree with you on that point,” he said evenly. “You’re disgusting!” she said and pulled her hair out of his fingers. “Leave me alone!” He pulled back and walked away, straightening the cuffs on his snowy white shirt. “Very well. I’ll start the sales proceedings immediately.” Those words chilled her to the bone. “Wh…What are you talking about?” she asked, straightening now that he wasn’t standing over her, trying to intimidate her. His eyes were cold and hard as he looked across the expanse of the conference room at her. “I’ll sell off every piece of this company, starting with the headquarters. All of these people will be out of a job by the end of this month.” He flicked a glance across the room and started walking toward the doors. Tabitha didn’t think that things could get worse, but his words proved her wrong. “Are you kidding?” she asked, moving quickly to stand in front of him, blocking the double door exit. His smile was merciless. “Have I ever joked about anything? Especially something this serious?” Tabitha shook her head slowly. “No,” she finally said through a painfully tight throat. “I can assure you that I have not started at this juncture in my life. Business is business,” he said simply, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re reducing sex down to a business arrangement? And you’ll put over five hundred people out of work simply because I won’t sleep with you?” Her shock was making her mind work slowly. She just couldn’t fathom anyone acting in such a heartless manner. “Absolutely,” he said without remorse. “I’ve found that most liaisons are basically a business arrangement. Women always want something; a trinket, a vacation, or their picture in the paper connecting their name to mine.” His voice softened slightly when he added, “But I can also guarantee that none of them leave my bed unsatisfied. I take great pleasure in ensuring each of my companions leave with a smile.” “Stop it,” she said, covering her ears with her hands. “I don’t want to hear these things! Leave all those other women out of this conversation. If you hate me so much, why in the world would you do this to me? Why would you spend millions of dollars buying controlling stock in this company?” His eyes traveled down her body and she was ashamed when her nipples peaked under his knowing look. She hated that her body reacted, willing her trembling anticipation to go away. “There are some things the mind ignores when it comes to pleasures of the flesh. I saw your picture in the paper last month and realized that I still wanted you. Therefore, I have found a way to have you. It’s all in your hands.” His dark blue eyes glittered moments before he said, “Example in point,” and without any further warning, his strong, muscular arms pulled her against his body, one arm wrapping around her waist while his other hand came up to tangle in her curls, bringing her head up only a moment before his mouth covered hers. He took advantage of her gasp, his tongue moving into her mouth and mating with hers. Tabitha was stunned and her mind stopped working as her body took over. She reacted without thought to his kiss, her body glorying in the amazing feel of his hands, his lips and his tongue as he showed her again how wonderful and skilled he was as a lover. She was unaware of the soft moans that escaped her as his mouth caressed hers, his hard body molding against her softer one. He pulled free suddenly and looked down at her for a long moment, noting with satisfaction the stunned expression in her soft, blue eyes. “You have twentyfour hours to contact me. If I don’t hear from you, the auction begins tomorrow at noon,” he said and flipped a business card from a pocket, handing it to her. A moment later, he was gone, leaving Tabitha staring at the expensive velum business card, her whole body trembling in reaction to both his kiss and his ultimatum. The Billionaire’s Runaway Bride Chapter 1 Each day was getting easier, Sophie Randal thought to herself. This living thing was becoming less agonizing. A few months ago, taking a breath had been difficult. Blinking had hurt because her eyes were too swollen from crying and her heart ached beyond what she’d thought a heart’s capacity for pain could endure. Sophie wiped the sweat absently from her brow before pulling the hydrangea bush more to the left, centered the leaves so they were rounded in the front and then filled in the hole with soil and mulch. “There, that should leave you happy over the winter,” she said to the plant, patting the mulch and gently touching the leaves. She sighed contentedly, knowing she had accomplished something today. She was productive now, not just someone’s burden. Looking at the plant, she tucked a stray lock of curly red hair behind her ear absently and, with dark blue eyes that finally sparkled with life again after months of appearing blank, looked around with satisfaction at the newly created landscape she’d been working on all day. “This is good,” she said out loud. “You’re all going to be happy and healthy, aren’t you?” she said, talking to herself as much as to the plants. Unfortunately, that feeling of peace and satisfaction was to disappear with the next sound, making her heart freeze in her chest. She felt the shadow only moments before he spoke, sending a shiver down her spine in both fear and anticipation. “Talking to plants again, Sophie?” a deep voice behind her asked. Sophie froze as fear and incredulity intruded. It couldn’t be! There was no way Jason Randal could have found her. She was even at a client’s site instead of her tiny little cottage or the landscaping company’s headquarters! How on earth could he have tracked her down to this upper class house in the middle of nowhere? But then Jason had more resources than any one person had the right to have. He was wealthier than anyone else she knew with an obscene amount of money at his disposal, all personally made. He wasn’t the kind of man who had inherited anything. Jason Randal had built up his massive empire by intelligence, amazing determination and, if the news reports were true, merciless strategizing. So why wouldn’t he now use those resources to find her? Unfortunately, Sophie had assumed that he wouldn’t. She had, in fact, prayed that he wouldn’t. Over the past few months, she had convinced herself that she was too trivial for him to waste the effort and expense. She had been hoping that Jason Randal would just forget that she even existed. But as she considered that fantasy, she realized that she had obviously been wrong. Incredibly wrong. She’d forgotten one important detail about Jason’s personality. Jason Randal didn’t like sharing. And as his wife, he would want to make sure she was under his wing and acting appropriately. Sophie stood up and turned around slowly, hoping and praying that she was wrong and that Jason Randal was not standing two feet behind her. Please let it be some other man who had the same kind of deep, velvet voice that made her insides quiver and her heart speed up with anticipation. As she turned around, her fears were confirmed. The tall, muscular man that had invaded her dreams every night for the past six months, leaving her breathless and wanting each morning upon waking, was behind her, casually leaning against a wooden fence that was bordered by the pretty purple and yellow pansies she’d planted just an hour ago and looking more handsome than anyone should. Her throat clenched and her eyes surveyed his broad shoulders, flat stomach and long, muscular legs all encased in a masterfully tailored suit. She knew the suit didn’t have any padding in the shoulders. She knew every inch of the man’s body intimately. Unfortunately, her traitorous body was reacting to merely the sight of him. Jason’s eyebrow went up, just as she’d remembered him doing whenever she’d amused him in some way. “No words, Sophie? Not even a greeting? How ungracious of you,” he said and pushed off the fence to walk towards her. “What are we going to do about your manners?” he considered, taking a stray lock of her fiery red hair and wrapping it around his finger. “Ready to go home, Sophie?” The last words broke her out of her trance and she reared back, only to be stopped painfully as the hair that was still tangled in his large hand, yanked against her scalp. “What are you doing here, Jason?” she demanded again, unwrapping her hair from his fingers, careful not to touch him in any way. From past experience, she knew that would lead to her wanting him. Humiliatingly, since he could have just about any woman he wanted with a crook of his sexy finger whereas she was a nobody, someone he’d married out of pity. She raised her face up, determined to not cower around him anymore. She was a new person and she was finished with cowering. She’d done it for twentyfive years but when she’d walked out on her marriage, she decided it was time to stop. “I am home,” she asserted and turned away, determined to walk back to her truck and drive away. Her retreat was stopped by a steel band that wrapped around her arm, pulling the rest of her body up against his hard frame and Sophie couldn’t help but cringe. Seeing the anger in his eyes, the clenched jaw and the nerve that was ticking in his cheek, all her old fears came back to her. “You are my wife!” Jason said. “No wife of mine will be digging around in the dirt.” The spicy scent of his aftershave reached her and she fought hard against her longing for his incredible masculinity. She hated the insecurity that crept into her voice, but she couldn’t help it. “I sent the divorce papers already. You should have received them by now,” she choked out, wishing she could put just a small amount of space between her body and this angry man holding her. Jason never showed emotion! They had been married for only a short time and never during that entire time had he ever shown her any emotion other than mild amusement. But he was definitely angry now. Her words only seemed to infuriate him more but he fought for control and won. “Ah, yes. I received them. ‘Irreconcilable Differences’,” he quoted, referencing the reason she’d stated for the divorce. “But I disagree my love,” he replied, one finger sliding sensuously across her cheek to brush against her extremely sensitive earlobe before dropping to her waist again. “I think we can work through whatever differences you perceive as irreconcilable.” “No!” she cried, trying yet again to pull away from him. “Why? Why in the world would you want to stay married to me?” Sophie had heard too many times from her father that her hair was too wild for any respectable man to pay attention to her. The titian curls swirled around her shoulders no matter how hard she tried to subdue them with pins. Her eyes were pretty, she knew but her skin was too white and her lips too full to be classically pretty, which were the kinds of women Jason used to date before he’d married her. She knew because she’d seen the pictures of those women, smiling in the newspapers as they walked on his arm - elegant, classically beautiful women who were confident and daring, everything she was not. She was too thin. The only part of her anatomy that showed any sign of femininity was her large bosom which she’d learned over the years to conceal out of shame, a shame that her father had impressed upon her at the first sign of their impending bloom. “Why wouldn’t I?” he said, loosening his hold but not letting her go. “You’re my wife.” Sophie’s chin went up a notch as she desperately searched for the small bit of confidence she’d gained in the past few months. “You’ve said that but I won’t do it anymore. You married me out of pity and I won’t be pitied by anyone!” Jason’s hands dropped down to his sides and his hard, dark eyes looked down at her in surprise. “Pity? Why in the world do you think I married you out of pity?” Sophie put several feet between them, rubbing her arms together although the early spring afternoon was unusually warm. Nor was it because he’d hurt her arms. Jason would never hurt her. It was more that any touch from Jason burned her skin, melting her insides and making her mind turn from whatever it had been thinking and focus only on him and the heat of his hands or body. It was a dangerous road and one she was determined not to go down. She had pride now. She wasn’t going to lose it simply because her traitorous body wanted to melt into his. “Don’t worry about how I know. I just do. You don’t have to hide it anymore, Jason. It was very noble of you to marry me after my father’s death and show me kindness but I’m okay now. I can survive on my own.” Jason looked around her, down at the ground where the rusty tools were laying and her filthy work gloves were tossed. “Is this what you call surviving?” he demanded. “You gave up on our marriage and the position as my wife in order to live here, in this tiny village and drive that?” He waved to the ancient truck with the other gardening tools in the back. “Yes!” Sophie claimed, not ashamed of her job or what she chose to drive. She didn’t expect him to understand. Jason lived in an enormous mansion with rooms decorated by the best designers, his personal chef cooked extravagant meals for which Jason may or may not be home for, and the rest of his staff waited on him hand and foot, pushing themselves to be noticed by the man who saw everything but handed out praise sparingly because his standards were exacting. “Don’t be ridiculous, Sophie,” he scoffed. “I’ve seen where you live. You have no food and there is barely room for a person to live. That is not surviving!” he claimed. Her eyes flashed with the news that he had been inside her tiny cottage, investigating the contents enough to know that she didn’t even have a carton of milk in the refrigerator at the moment. “It is my choice and you have no right to judge me!” Jason took several steps towards her, intimidating her despite her intentions not to let him. “You made your choice when you took the vows to be my obedient and faithful wife,” he enunciated. “That makes me sound like I’m a dog,” she countered. He actually smiled and the humor reached his dark, enigmatic eyes. “I can assure you, I definitely don’t consider you a dog in any sense.” Sophie hated the feelings his smile created within her. All those silly butterflies kicked into overdrive simply because of his charming smile. “What do you want from me?” she asked, crossing her hands over her chest as if she could shield herself from his charm. “I want you to get into the car and come back with me, for starters.” He didn’t pause to see if she would obey; he turned on his heel and moved in the direction of the waiting limousine. Sophie watched him for about two steps before she gritted out, “No.” That stopped him. Probably because he’d never heard it before. Definitely not from any of his employees and never had Sophie had the courage to say it during their marriage. Jason turned around and raised one dark eyebrow in mild shock as he took in her stubborn stance. “No?” he asked with deadly and terrifying calm. Sophie didn’t like the amusement still in his eyes. She thought a different tactic might be more effective since her current one was only making him angry or amused, she wasn’t positive which. Softening her stance, she turned her eyes to pleading, her palms up in the hope that she could make him understand her position. “Jason, our marriage was a farce and you know it. Let’s just let it die as it should.” Instantly his lips firmed in anger. “Because I disagree that it is over. And until I agree, I will not grant you a divorce.” Her eyes widened and her whole body recoiled at his statement. “You can’t do that!” But she knew he could. He had enough wealth and influence to do just about anything he wanted. “Don’t challenge me on this, Sophie,” he said calmly. “I will,” she said although her body was now shivering in fear, both of what he could do to her physically with one touch of his hands, melting her into a ball of sexual desire; and also because Jason never backed down. When he wanted something, he got it. She’d seen it too many times during their short marriage and she’d always prayed she’d never be on the opposite side of Jason Randal. He didn’t respond until he was standing less than an inch from her, his angry, dark blue eyes looking down into her stubborn green ones. “Then you will lose. Get in the car.” He didn’t ask, he simply commanded and assumed that all his orders would be followed immediately. And why shouldn’t he make those kinds of assumptions? All his employees followed his instructions to the letter without any sort of resistance or argument. She was shivering with impotent anger and fear but still resisted, determined to not lose the small amount of independence she’d gained while being away. “You can’t make me.” Sophie knew she was playing with fire but couldn’t help herself. Getting near him was lethal to her control and possibly her newfound self esteem. Jason sighed and shook his head. “You think not? Never doubt me, Sophie.” Before he even explained his actions, the calm, victorious look in his eyes told her that he’d won. “I’ve already spoken to your employer and explained that you must resign without notice. I’ve also…” “You can’t do that!” Her income was gone? That easily? Was it possible? Looking into his steely expression, she knew that it was not only possible, but an incontrovertible fact. “I can and I did,” he stated. “As I said a few moments ago, my wife will not be supporting herself by digging in the dirt! Furthermore, I have spoken to your landlord and bought out the remainder of your lease. If you persist in living there, I will make a very generous offer to your landlord to buy the building, then I will evict you. If you find another place to live, I will do the same,” he stated. With each word, he moved closer to her, not letting her retreat or move away from him. “Don’t doubt my determination to have you exactly where you belong, Sophie. You are coming home. Now!” “No!” she cried, feeling trapped because she knew he’d do exactly as he’d stated. Jason never made idle threats. “Yes,” he countered. “Since you are no longer employed, you have no license to drive this vehicle. Your current employer, Henry Wilson, I believe was his name, has agreed to have someone come out and pick up the vehicle later. Now,” he said, obviously his patience was at an end, “get into the car.” Sophie fought back the tears. “I hate you,” she said with feeling. “That has yet to be determined,” Jason replied mercilessly but he followed her into the back of the waiting limousine. Chapter 2 Sophie sat in the corner of the soft, comfortable seat and fumed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at Jason as he followed her in. As soon as he was seated, the car moved, heading off in the direction of London. The silence lasted for about five minutes before Jason spoke into the tense atmosphere. “I’m surprised to find you here. The investigators were looking for you in Europe, Sophie. Very smart of you to hide right under my nose,” Jason said but before she could respond, his cell phone rang and he answered it, immediately dismissing her from his mind as he dealt with yet another of the multitude of business details he responded to each day. She wished she could tell him that she wasn’t hiding from him. But she was. She’d run away from him all those months ago when she determined that Jason had only married her out of pity. It hadn’t been a guess. Her stepsister Jocelyn had told her that, in no uncertain terms, Jason had found her silly, heartbreaking existence too much to bear and had taken it upon himself to keep her from being a laughing stock after Sophie’s father had died. That afternoon had been devastating for Sophie. From the first moment she’d met Jason, she’d woven fantasies around him. She’d been twenty three when her father had taken her to a ball and had been wearing one of her father’s favorite dresses which meant it looked like a funeral dress in Sophie’s mind. The long, black dress which covered her from her neck to her ankles, even the long sleeves not showing any skin, was the kind of dress her father thought was appropriate for his daughter. Sophie remembered seeing Jason across the room and her heart had instantly accelerated. When he’d turned and caught her eye, it was as if a spark of electricity had traveled the length of the room and connected the two of them. He hadn’t let her look away as he made his way across the room. But he didn’t need to worry that night. As her father made the introductions, Sophie was transfixed by his hard, chiseled face and determined eyes. He was so tall, he practically towered over her by at least seven inches. Her head barely came to his shoulder even in her heels. But when he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor, she fit into his arms perfectly. The entire dance, she continued to look up at him, thrilled with his handsome looks and feeling other women’s eyes on her. When the dance ended, Jason was gentlemanly as he tucked her hand into his arm and led her back to her father’s side. He bowed away, smiling and winking at her. That was the last time she saw him until her father’s funeral. The Billionaire’s Elusive Lover Chapter 1 “Thank you so much Edna,” Helen Miller enthused, shaking the older woman’s hand. “I promise I’ll be out of here quickly.” Edna chuckled. “Don’t worry. My boss isn’t scheduled to be back for hours. He won’t know a thing.” Edna looked at the beautiful woman with the black hair that curled down her back in what could only be described as riotous. “What are you trying to capture?” she asked, fascinated at the way the young woman was examining the sky and the windows, as if they held the secret to the world and she was determined to unlock the key. Edna had never seen such passion, she thought silently. The idea of maintaining that much energy all the time seemed exhausting to Edna. Helen smiled back at Edna. “The sunset today is going to be perfect,” she enthused. “The afternoon heat has created a heavy haze that will filter the sunshine. I guarantee the colors will be spectacular. Just wait and you’ll see.” Edna smiled at the young woman. She couldn’t believe she’d let this woman into Alec Dionysius’ office but there was just something about her that had Edna violating sacred rules. Maybe it was her energy or enthusiasm, or something even more subtle that had her convinced that everything will be okay. No one got through to this office without an appointment and usually those appointments were booked months in advance. Mr. Dionysius was a very busy and extremely powerful man and everyone wanted to have “just five minutes” of his time. His security team always surrounded him when he was out and about in public or even at private parties. But up here, in this office, it was Edna that was the obstacle. No one got through her unless Mr. Dionysius allowed it. Which made this aberration all the more strange. She watched as the lovely woman clicked her camera over and over again, fascinated by her facial expressions. When she pulled out another camera, Edna considered asking her questions, but then stopped herself, seeing the intense concentration on the younger woman’s face. Ten minutes later, Helen snapped the last shot and dropped her camera. “See what I mean?” she said almost breathlessly, staring out at the horizon. Edna stopped her curious inspection of the brunette beauty and looked out the floor to ceiling windows in her boss’ office. At her first glimpse, she gasped in surprise. “Oh, my!” she said, her hand covering her throat as she looked at the spectacular array of colors minutely shifting over the horizon. In a reverent whisper, Edna agreed, “You were right, Helen. Amazing!” The two women stood there for a long time, their eyes glued to the horizon as they continued to watch the changing colors of the sunset. Neither were aware of the executive floor security guard or the clerical support woman who worked for Edna as they both walked into the sacred domain of the man in charge. All four of them stood still, awestruck by the light show. The silence was complete, broken only by the flashes of color slowly forming a silent melody as they shifted across the evening sky. The shifting light from the setting sun had an almost symphonic beauty to it that even a heavy breath would be a violation against. “What the hell is going on in here?” a deep voice asked from the doorway. Four people jumped at the same moment. Edna spun around, her shoulders instantly tense and wary. “Oh, Mr. Dionysius! You’re back early! I’m so sorry!” she gasped. “That’s not very informative,” he replied with dry sarcasm. Helen tried to look away. She really did. She didn’t want to be fascinated by a man who would interrupt such an incredible moment in time and not appreciate its beauty. Unfortunately, her eyes were glued to the most amazing male she’d ever seen. He was tall with a chiseled jaw, hawk-like nose and black, dangerous eyes. His perfectly tailored suit framed his body with an elegant façade but she was still able to see the broad shoulders and flat stomach which distinguished the latent menace underneath the tailored fabric. His hands were aggressively resting on his hips, pushing back the suit jacket to reveal power more suited to a furious male lion than a mere human male. The fact that he was glaring at her didn’t register with her mind for a long moment until her gaze finally came to rest back on his face after surveying the rest of him with a slow, compulsive perusal. The heat that flared within her stomach almost made her knees give out. His eyes captured hers, held her captive and she felt powerless, completely at his mercy. No man had ever made her feel this helpless. Nor had any man ever made her feel anything like this. Her stomach felt like it was filled with bubbles that were floating, popping and moving into her bloodstream to zing around her body. Her mind told her to leave but her feet were immobile as she continued to take in the man with all of his incredible strength. Helen heard her new friend’s attempt at conciliating the angry man and Helen wished she could step in and offer her apology, protect Edna from the man’s wrath, but she was held captive by his eyes. “I..um…I was just letting Ms. Miller…she wanted to…” Edna fumbled through the explanation but she was too nervous to finish it. The stumbling explanation finally did the trick. Helen was at last able to break through her stupor and focus, turning to Edna and Mick, the security guard who had called Edna with her request. “Mr….” she fumbled because she wasn’t sure who he was but wouldn’t let her new friends down in this situation. They’d gone out of their way to help her and she didn’t want to repay their kindness by dumping them to the wolves. Or wolf, she corrected. This man was definitely baring his teeth. “I’m sorry but I don’t know your name but this is all my fault. I asked Mick to introduce me to Edna who allowed me into your office. I just wanted a picture,” she explained, lifting her camera bag, “and she’s stood with me the whole time to make sure I didn’t do anything besides take pictures so if there’s anything confidential in this office, I promise I didn’t see it.” Obviously, her explanation didn’t do the trick because the anger in his eyes didn’t ease. “And you think that’s okay?” he commented with an affectation of calm, moving slowly across the room, his eyes never leaving her face. “What, exactly, were you photographing?” he asked. Good! An easy question. She needed those right now since her knees were trembling at his closer proximity. “The sunset,” Helen brightened. “Because of the storm and the intense heat we had earlier today, the refracting light was particularly extraordinary tonight. I really didn’t mean to invade your space in this way. I promise I’ll get out of your way now.” Helen grabbed her camera bag with shaking fingers, pulling it onto her shoulder and quickly walked toward the double doors that would give her freedom from the strange power he seemed to have over her. “Stop,” he said in a deep, commanding voice when she started to move past him. Turning to the others, he dismissed them with a glare. They immediately got the message and left the office silently. Helen watched her friends leave, knowing they still felt as if they were in trouble. She hated thinking that her actions had caused them harm and turned to face the person who had made them feel uncomfortable, allowing all her confused emotions toward this man to coalesce into anger, which was much easier to define and handle than the ambiguous feelings that were spiraling through her system. She didn’t understand those feelings. She understood, and could react to, this burgeoning anger that filled her with a righteous fury, all directed towards this tall, formidable man who thought he could speak to people in such a demoralizing manner. “That was very rude of you,” Helen snapped, her eyes coming back to him, unafraid of showing her irritation. Alec’s eyes snapped back to hers but he didn't say a word. He waited until he heard the door close behind them before speaking. “Excuse me?” he replied with lethal calm. Anyone else would know that he’d just been pushed beyond what he considered acceptable but this tiny woman seemed oblivious to the possible consequences. Despite the queasiness that filled her stomach, she straightened her shoulders and faced him head on. “I said, you were very rude to your staff. You should apologize. It’s my fault that they let me in here so you should only be mad at me. There was no need for you to show your impatience at them.” Alec couldn’t believe his ears. Was he actually being taken to task by a woman who barely reached his shoulders? His eyes traveled up and down her figure once again and he couldn’t deny that he was intrigued. No, he corrected. He’d been intrigued when he’d walked in and caught sight of her gorgeous hair that fell down her back and witnessed her cute little bottom wiggling against her gauzy skirt. Now that she was standing here, challenging him and telling him off, so to speak, he was more than intrigued. He was fascinated. He acknowledged that a large part of his fascination came also from her voluptuous curves that were barely encased in the tight, green tee-shirt and the stunning dark green eyes that were glaring back at him. Her mouth was spouting commands and issuing statements he wouldn’t allow from any of his staff under any circumstances. In a split second decision, he also knew in that moment that he would soon have those lips whispering softer words into his ear in the very near future. He kept his face impassive as he moved closer to her, explaining in the most reasonable tones that she was currently in a great deal of danger. “It is their responsibility to make sure no one enters this office without my approval. You standing here is evidence that they were not doing their job very well. What makes you think that I should apologize for mediocre performance?” Her mouth dropped open at his statement that her friends had been slack in their vigilance simply because she’d used his office for a few short minutes. “That’s ridiculous,” she snapped at him, taking a step back. He was so tall, she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. And she didn’t discount the impact he was having on her senses as well. Being this close to the man was definitely not good for her concentration. She was thinking about what he had underneath that perfect white shirt, wondering if he had muscles or if he was just well made, instead of defending Edna and Mick. Concentrate, she told herself sternly. What happened in the next few minutes could me the difference between two people having a job tomorrow or being sacked immediately. “They were just being nice,” she stated in as cooperative a tone as she could muster under the direct glare of this handsome man. His lips thinned slightly at her response. “I don’t pay them to be nice,” he replied with a voice that suggested she shouldn't argue any longer. Helen couldn’t believe anyone could be so handsome and yet at the same time, so lethal. She wouldn’t admit that she was scared and squared her shoulders, wishing she could find the right words to help out Edna and Mick. Deciding that caution was the better part of valor, she decided to take this argument down a notch. “Well, they were very nice and helped me out a lot tonight. I got some wonderful pictures of the sunset so…” she started to move around him warily. “I’ll just get out of your hair if you’ll promise me that you won’t be mean to them about this situation.” His arm reached out and imprisoned her, pinning her between his long, muscular arm and the hard wall behind her, effectively halting her retreat. He stared at her for a long moment, searching her face to see if she genuinely thought he would take her orders. When he saw the sincerity and confidence on her face, Alec laughed outright. He couldn’t believe it but this woman who had invaded his office and charmed his staff to violate sacrosanct rules, was actually issuing an ultimatum. “You’re joking, right?” he asked. Since she was trapped on the right by his arm blocking her exit, she slipped deftly to the left in order to put just a little space between them. His close proximity wasn't good for her. Unfortunately, he must have anticipated her move, because his body shifted so suddenly, and so subtly, she didn't know how but she was suddenly trapped once again by his body and the sofa. Helen shook her head, her long gold hoops brushing against her cheek. “Absolutely not. If you’re going to be mad at someone, then be mad at me. Call the police and have me arrested for trespassing if you’d like but leave them out of this.” He leaned forward, his broad chest pressing her legs back against the back of the sofa, all anger vanishing at her astonishing demand. “So you used my office to take pictures. I’m guessing you’re a professional photographer, correct?” Helen was stunned by the sudden change in him. His eyes were no longer glaring at her angrily. In fact, she thought she saw a small smile curl his lips. But that was ridiculous, she told herself quickly. No one could change emotions that fast. “Yes,” she replied, pulling her heavy camera bag closer defensively. His anger she could deal with. This new challenge was different, and oh so much more intimidating. She didn’t understand why her heart was beating frantically and her breath seemed to be caught in her throat. She leaned back, wishing she could stand up tall and face the challenge he was silently issuing but, for some reason, she was terrified of the new threat. swallowed hard and licked her dry lips. “I do freelance photography.” She He watched the movement of her tongue, noted the increased pulse at the base of her long, sexy neck and smiled lethally. “So you owe me, as far as I can see.” Helen blinked in confusion. “I owe you?” she gasped. “How so?” He moved in closer, his eyes noting the small shiver that ran down her slender form and the slight rosy flush that was coloring her lovely, high cheekbones. “You are here in my building, using my office to take pictures which you’re then going to turn around and sell to someone else, probably a magazine or some sort of collection, correct?” he stated. His questions suddenly made sense and for a moment, she was suddenly extremely disappointed that this conversation had turned to profit. She shrugged as if she did this kind of negotiation all the time. “You want a portion of the sale, is that it?” she asked, her heart falling to her stomach because she wouldn’t get much for the pictures and every penny counted when one was a photographer. His eyes didn’t reveal any hint of his next words so they took Helen by surprise. “No. You owe me dinner,” he stated firmly. He took her bag from her shoulder and started walking away. Helen gasped, completely off kilter with his demand, and thrown utterly for a loop by his action. “What are you doing with my cameras?” she almost yelled, chasing after him as he started to leave his office. “Give them back!” “I’m not taking them from you,” he said, turning so suddenly that she plowed into him. His arm immediately went around her waist to hold her steady, her small frame trapped against his taller one and he instantly liked the feeling. He saw her mouth open and his mind had to work hard to control his body. He wanted this woman. And if his body had anything to say about it, it would have to be soon. “I’m simply carrying them for you until we reach my car. This bag is heavy.” Helen tried to form a thought but she couldn’t. Her mind was spinning and her fingers itched to touch him, to further investigate the hard muscles that her body was currently feeling. Her hands touched his arms to steady herself and her eyes followed, fascinated by the muscles underneath the smooth Egyptian cotton of his shirt. He was amazingly strong, she thought absently. Her mind clicked back, refocusing on the issue at hand and dismissing her fascination with his body. “I can’t go to dinner with you.” She quickly dropped her hands down to her side and prayed she wouldn’t fall down. “Why not?” he asked, enjoying her breasts that were pressed against his chest. They felt full and soft and extraordinarily good. “Um….because….” she couldn’t think when he was this close. She needed to put space between them but her arms and legs weren’t following the direction from her brain. “Because,” she said once again but this time, it came out only as a whisper. “Not a good enough excuse,” he said softly, his voice husky as he watched her attraction for him on her face and in her beautiful, expressive soft green eyes. He stood up quickly and released her, knowing that remaining in that position would only scare her. He’d only met the woman fifteen minutes ago and all he could think about was getting her into his bed. From the wariness he was seeing, he would have to take things a bit slower than he’d like. He turned and walked out of his office. “Edna, call The Westin and get a table for two in…,” he glanced at his watch, “twenty minutes,” he said to the still nervous Edna as he passed by her desk. Helen raced along behind him, her mouth dropping open at the mention of the very exclusive restaurant located in the heart of the financial district of London. Now that she had some breathing room, her anger was able to diffuse the more mystifying feelings she’d been experiencing. She liked anger much more. It was cleansing and helped her regain her focus. “She can’t get a table on this short a notice at The Westin,” she snapped, instantly defending the woman who had helped her earlier. “That’s impossible.” In response, Alec turned back to look down at the lovely and enticing brunette, his dark eyes holding her green ones hostage. He didn’t say a word but simply waited, listening for Edna’s voice. He smiled wolfishly as his secretary calmly informed the maitre’d of the restaurant that Alec and a guest would be arriving shortly. “Thank you very much, Jeffrey,” she said. Placing the receiver down, she smiled at Helen. “The table will be waiting for you when you arrive,” she stated efficiently. Helen shook her head in amazement. “How is that possible? You need reservations so far in advance it isn’t even worth trying. And yet you call up only a few minutes before you want to eat and you get a table?” “Of course,” Alec replied. “This way.” He walked to a private elevator which opened immediately for him. He waited for Helen to enter but held back his chuckle at her obvious irritation as she followed at a slower pace, every movement of her slender figure showing him her irritation. They rode down the elevator in silence and stepped out into a parking garage where his chauffer was already waiting with the back door open. Two other men stepped into an SUV parked behind the limousine while a third stepped into the passenger seat next to the chauffer. “Who are they?” she asked, slightly nervous of the angry looking men with black suits and suspicious bulges at their sides. “My security detail,” he replied curtly before putting a hand to her back and urging her into the car. Helen watched nervously until they were all in the vehicle. As soon as the door closed, the car sped away. She sat in the back of the limousine, her arms crossed over her chest and wondered when she had agreed to have dinner with him. This was crazy! She should demand that he pull the vehicle to the curb and let her out. Just as her head turned towards him and her mouth opened up, he stopped her with a simple denial. “No,” he said, obviously reading her mind. Helen decided to play dumb, give herself time to formulate a response. “No, what?” she asked, knowing he couldn’t really be reading her mind. “No, I’m not letting you out of the car. So sit back and enjoy the ride. We’ll be at the restaurant in a moment.” Helen tried not to show her increased irritation at the accuracy of his mind reading but she couldn’t help the small breath that he heard. “How did you…?” she started to say. He laughed, enjoying the expressions flitting across her face. She was beautiful yes, but still young and everything she was thinking was transparent on her face. “Your eyes darted to the door handle and then scanned the sidewalk, Helen. I didn’t have to read your mind. Reading your body language and facial expressions is easy enough.” He chuckled at her disgruntled expression, then let his eyes go lower. Did she realize that her arms were pushing her breasts higher? That he could see her nipples through the thin layer of her shirt? Did she have any idea how desirable she looked right at the moment? “What do you do, Mr. Dionysius?” she asked, desperately wanting some way to get him to stop looking at her. She was embarrassed that he could read her so easily and wanted to figure him out as well. Any clue she could garner from conversations that might give her the upper hand, if only for a moment, would make her feel much better, more in control. “Call me Alec, Helen. And what do you think I do?” Helen shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t imagine. I’m guessing you’re pretty awful.” His eyebrows went up at her reply, both in amusement and surprise at her audacity. “Why would you say that?” She smiled impishly, loving the fact that she was about to give him a good set-down. “Obviously a lot of people hate you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t need the extra body guards. I’m guessing they’re here to keep the angry hordes at bay?” Alec laughed softly. “Yes, at times, they keep the paparazzi out of the way. But they have other purposes.” “What would those other purposes be?” she asked, wishing she knew who he was. She felt at a disadvantage. He looked like he knew so much, whereas, she barely knew his name. “I don’t think you want to know,” he said simply and enjoyed the frustration in her beautiful green eyes. He wasn’t just being annoying. He didn’t want to worry her about the potential threats that he received occasionally or the fact that, due to his wealth, there was a constant danger of kidnapping. They might live in the civilized world where these things were more rare. But they weren’t unheard of and unscrupulous people would do a lot for even a fraction of the money in only one of his bank accounts. Helen eyed him carefully before shrugging and looking down. “I probably don’t although leaving it that way leaves much to the imagination.” She laughed and peeked back at him before saying, “I can imagine a lot of things people might want to do with you.” The Intimate, Intricate Rescue Chapter 1 “Something smells rotten, Mitch,” Jim Anderson said in a low voice as the two of them hurriedly walked toward the conference room. The hushed atmosphere of the secure area only intensified the stinging tension that seemed to be radiating from the assembled staff. Mitch Hamilton didn’t say a word in response, just continued to walk down the hallway that was quiet, pulsating, and still buzzing with tension. Mitch didn’t look to the left or right, impatient with the situation that seemed to have exploded unnecessarily. As he approached the conference room doors, two bulky men who were obviously guarding the area straightened to heightened attention and quickly opened the double doors that led to a large operations room, allowing both Mitch and Jim to walk in without breaking stride. Entering the room which initially seemed to be a high tech conference room, Mitch looked around the assembly of his top advisors, strategists and field agents, all of whom wore grim expressions on their faces. “Talk to me, gentlemen,” Mitch said quietly but with forbidding emphasis and absolute authority, walking towards the bank of top of the line computer screens that showed the progress of the current mission as well as other data and intelligence that had been gathered recently about the operation. With one fast, comprehensive sweep of his blue eyes, Mitch had taken in all the details and was waiting to be briefed verbally, knowing there were issues that could not be explained by data but might be just as relevant, if not more so in some cases. He’d learned from personal experience that no computer or machine could eliminate the power of the human brain. On the largest screen, there were three green outlines indicating his men out in the field. All were heavily armed and slowly approaching the operation’s target. The green figures were the field agents his company had sent in for this mission and they were all very good, extremely competent men. All the personnel on his staff were excellent at field work as well as analyzing the situation and reacting appropriately. While one of his technical analysts explained the data to him, Mitch watched silently as the green figures gained entrance to the building through a window and made their way stealthily through the initial hallway, searching each of the rooms which were highlighted on the screen by thin, blue lines. A satellite was the screen’s source for the images and Mitch crossed his massive arms over his muscular chest as he watched the monitors, his midnight blue eyes never leaving the figures on the screen as they made their way toward their objective. Behind him, Mitch heard a commotion, but he intently continued to monitor the unfolding situation on the screen, deciphering what was happening both through intuition as well as intelligence and satellite images. “Where’s my daughter?” an obnoxious, angry voice broke through the tense silence. Mitch ignored the man, his focus remaining on the screen and the situation which, his gut instincts were telling him was rapidly deteriorating, although there wasn’t any evidence to suggest this was the case. One of his many strengths was his ability to eliminate any superfluous sounds or distractions when an operation was underway. It was that ability that had kept him alive on many occasions and had made his security company an international success. The brusque, white haired man behind him with an enormous stomach covered by an immaculately tailored suit obviously didn’t like being ignored. He puffed up like a peacock, thinking that if he got louder and more forceful, someone was bound to acknowledge him in some way and give him what he wanted. “Dammit! I asked a question and I demand an explanation to what is happening here! I hired this company to find and save my daughter and it doesn’t appear that any saving is underway. I want to know where my daughter is right now!” the man demanded once again. His huffing and puffing made his skin look pink as his blood pressure increased. The outrage he was suffering was obviously beyond anything of his experience, probably because he’d been raised in the upper echelon of society and been pampered and petted by everyone his whole life, including his parents as well as the army of servants he employed. There was no question of his wealth, for only someone with a large bankroll could have afforded this kind of operation. Hamilton Securities had many levels of services but only a few could pay for this kind of jungle rescue operation. This rescue mission, because of the danger and complexity not to mention the location deep in the jungles of Central America and in hostile, drug cartel territory, had been especially costly. Besides, only someone with a vast amount of resources would have been put into this kind of a kidnapping situation in the first place. There were the numerous kidnappings that happened along the Columbia and other South American country borders, but this one was different, special. And much more dangerous. These were professionals and their professional tactics indicated that they had gone after a very specific mark instead of a random group. Mitch continued to ignore the rotund man but, with his peripheral vision, he noticed that one of the technical agents in the room walked over and spoke quietly to the man, giving him instructions on the mission protocol and explaining what was happening, pointing to the screen and the data while the puffed up man nodded, obviously feeling that he was finally being given adequate attention. Whatever the agent said had obviously mollified the pompous man. “Fine. But I want her out safely and quickly,” Mitch heard the man grumble. Mitch continued to watch, the tension building when he saw additional men entering the building from the opposite side. This was the visual evidence that his intuition had anticipated. These figures lined in red which indicated that they were not friendly to the rescue team and the others in the conference room grasped the increased danger to both the victim as well as to their agents in the field. The screen showed that all of the red images were armed and prepared to shoot, and from the way they were holding their weapons, they had obviously been tipped off to the presence of the rescue team. The three green figures froze, obviously hearing the sounds of the kidnappers in the next room. Mitch could see the red figures crouch, motion silent communications to each other. What’s worse, he could see the exact moment when things started to go wrong from his vantage point. His agents were walking into a trap. With a low growl, he ordered, “Tell them to get out fast.” Mitch could tell that his men were signaling the wrong direction. It would take them directly into the paths of the waiting kidnappers. It was his policy to avoid confrontations in these kinds of situations. Get the kidnappers later and regroup to eliminate the danger to the victim. The primary goal was to secure the release the hostages as safely as possible. His agents could probably handle the kidnappers even though they were walking into a trap, especially since the agents here at the home office could pinpoint the hostile sources through radio to the agents, but the hostage might become harmed in the process. At Mitch’s command, the operator immediately gave the order to the men to abort the mission. Mitch watched with growing anger as the men on the screen hesitated, then continued on. The kidnappers were suddenly still and Mitch knew without a doubt that they were poised and ready. “Give the order again!” Mitch said emphatically, his tone lower, allowing no argument. “Tell them they are disobeying orders and must retreat immediately.” The pressure in the room escalated and Mitch could even sense the atmosphere in the building thousands of miles away as if he were there himself. His men knew something wasn’t right. Again, the command was relayed and the three figures ignored the command. The hostages were in a huddle in the room right next to them. Obviously, the agents could sense their presence, probably could hear them. Knowing the goal was so close was a difficult thing to reject. Instead of obeying, the three men moved forward. “Dammit,” Mitch growled under his breath. Moving forward, he took the microphone from the operator. “This is Mitch Hamilton,” he said, his voice low since it was possible for the kidnappers to hear his voice even if the receiver was an ear piece. “There are three men standing right outside your door. They have obviously been tipped off to your presence and you’re walking into a trap. Retreat immediately. That is an order.” He watched as the agents stopped with his words. It took several hand signals but Mitch waited tensely for the silent argument to conclude. He took a deep breath of relief as he watched the three agents retreat back through the window they had come through. Thankfully, all three agents were back into the jungle area before the kidnappers stormed the room. But that didn’t make the fact that someone had tipped them off to the rescue any more palatable. Mitch turned around, his hard, dark eyes catching the softer ones of the father. “If you’ll excuse us, we need to discuss strategy, Mr. Peterson.” The man puffed up and looked back at Mitch, obviously not in an accommodating mood. “If you’re going to discuss getting my daughter out of that hell hole, and you damn well better be,” he growled with his hands on his hips, showing off his rotund belly as if it were a medal of honor, “then I want to know what you’re going to do to accomplish that feat. I’ve paid this company an enormous amount of money to extricate her from this ridiculous mess and from the looks of it, your men just failed. Now do your damn job or I’ll find another company that can!” The man was yelling by the time he was finished and his bushy white eyebrows pinched together as if he were trying to stare down Mitch who was easily a foot taller and with the addition of packed muscles hidden behind his own tailored suit. Mitch didn’t have the patience to deal with the older man right at the moment. He signaled to one of the other agents who quickly moved to escort the furious father from the room. The man didn’t go willingly but within moments, his agent had the man quieted and following behind him in a more docile manner. Mitch was relieved because, at this point, he wasn’t above throwing the father out physically – no matter how much money his company had been paid. Something about the father’s actions struck him as false and Mitch had some suspicions that needed to be worked out. As soon as they were alone, Mitch looked at each of his agents around the table, his eyes assessing and surveying. “Okay, what happened?” he demanded, looking into the eyes of each man as they found a seat in one of the leather chairs around the highly polished wooden conference room table. There were high- tech gadgets built into every space available but Mitch tuned all of it out, preferring human logic and intuition to figure things out. He used the gadgets to get the job done, but his instincts to build a plan. There was a moment of silence as each man considered his thoughts. But then, “Someone tipped off the kidnappers,” John Miller said from one corner of the table. “They were too well informed of the operation for me to come up with any other possibility.” Mitch nodded his head, glad to have his gut instincts confirmed. “I thought so too. Who are the men out there?” He was asking about the agents that worked for Hamilton Security and everyone knew that. There was no misunderstanding from the others around the table. All had worked with Mitch Hamilton either during his black operations days in the military or for him at Hamilton Security for years and all trusted each other implicitly. They also knew the rules, some of which were never to be broken. One of those rules was to obey orders from the satellite command room and the men out there in the field had violated that rule. There was a point when field agents had to think for themselves, and other times when orders had to be followed. Good agents knew the difference between those two scenarios. “Larry, Bill and Joe. They’re not new and have been around for a while and know better than to ignore an outright command. They aren’t our best, but they are very good and their skills matched the requirements for this job. Although I think that Bill and Joe might have been a bit too arrogant for their own good in this case.” “They’re out as of this moment,” Mitch said calmly, hiding any kind of anger or frustration he might be showing at this turn of events. “No one disobeys a direct order under those circumstances and they should have known better. They’re lucky to be alive but I’m not giving them any chances to kill themselves again.” One of the men started to argue, but stopped himself. There was no use. In this organization, people stayed alive by following orders. The three men had disobeyed a sacred rule and there was no one who could save them after their performance especially since Mitch Hamilton himself had given the order. Mitch didn’t wait for the rest of the men to agree with his orders. This was not the time for discussion, it was the time for action and discipline. “Now someone tell me what’s going on out in that war zone.” A file folder was placed in front of him and Mitch tensed yet again before opening the red folder. It was red because the case was high priority and high risk. He didn’t tense because of the risk though. He stiffened because he was about to view the woman once again, the one he hadn’t been able to get out of his head ever since the first time he’d seen her picture. He’d reviewed the operation before approving of the mission, especially in situations like this one where the risk was so high. He reviewed and approved of all missions that had any sense of danger to them, preferring to keep his men alive and make sure that all precautions were in place rather than make a profit. Of course people died in this business, but with careful planning and experience, the risks could at least be minimized. He didn’t open the file immediately. He didn’t want the distraction of her image right now. There was work to be done and he had to get a grip on the situation in order to salvage the mess that had evolved over the past half hour. “Was it a trap?” he asked. Again, a moment of silence as each man around the table considered the possibility before slowly shaking their heads. “I don’t think so,” one of them finally said. “All the intelligence says that the kidnapping was genuine.” Mitch nodded again, agreeing with that assessment. “So what happened?” He opened the file folder and stared at her stunning blue eyes and open, lovely smile. His stomach tightened and he wondered how only a picture could have such an impact on his system. She was beautiful, but he dated beautiful women all the time. Some were amusing for a time but he always grew bored with them eventually. Women were nice to have around but he had no intention of hanging onto any of them. He was brutally honest with them before any kind of relationship began. So if any of them had illusions of long term, they were sadly mistaken. This one though, with her shining eyes and gut wrenching smile…it just did something to him that no other woman, even a woman standing right in front of him, had ever done to him. A part of his mind knew he should never have any physical contact with her. She was definitely trouble. Every instinct within him was telling him to avoid her at all costs. Her hair was thick with golden waves coming down to her slender shoulders and curling softly around her heart shaped, angelic face. Her full, pink lips were smiling almost shyly into the camera and she was obviously at some sort of society function. He hated society women, he reminded himself. They were shallow, mercenary and so full of their own worth that no one had a chance to get past their vanity. They were good for one thing, and one thing only. Sex. Slapping the file folder closed, he re-focused his attention on the discussion going on around him. The men were formulating a backup plan to go in and extract the young woman. He heard their words, listened for only half a minute before he knew what he had to do. It wasn’t that he wanted to save her, he told himself firmly. It was that he wanted to save this situation. Something had gone wrong and he wasn’t going to let it happen again. Even as plans were tossed out for brainstorming, Mitch shook his head, immediately silencing the current mission plan. “I’m going in,” he said firmly. Ten stunned faces turned to look his way. Mitch was the owner of this company and was built like a mountain with muscles that everyone at Hamilton Securities tried to emulate but none could even come close to matching. He was a legend in the field and all of them knew that he could do anything he set his mind to, some of the things even they wouldn’t dare to attempt in their craziest moments while Mitch could do them with one hand tied behind his back. But he never took missions any longer, needing to be at the helm of the company to make sure things ran smoothly. He was the brilliant mastermind of operations although no one doubted he could do the job as well, or even better, than his field agents. Mitch was the kind of man that his teams both respected and feared because of what they knew about him, but also because Mitch would never send any of his men into a situation that wasn’t doable. In this situation, he could probably do this operation in his sleep compared to some of the other missions he’d reputedly accomplished. But the idea of Mitch taking on this kind of task now was just…unheard of. If the truth were told, he was stunned himself. He’d taken enough bullets and stabbings in his lifetime that he didn’t need to prove himself anymore. And he definitely didn’t need the adrenaline rush like some of the younger agents who thrived on the thrill and excitement of danger. So what was it about this woman’s picture that got under his skin? He couldn’t honestly answer their unspoken questions reflected in their astonished expressions, nor was he willing to delve into the issue too closely himself. He’d made his decision and, having said it out loud, he knew that it was right even though he couldn’t rationalize it intellectually. Something just told him…gut instinct, a premonition, however one defined that thought in one’s head that guided actions that didn’t make any sense, but Mitch knew it was the right answer. Without hesitating in any way, he stood up and spoke to the rest of the table. “Get George and Luke on the line,” he commanded, referring to the two other men he’d done missions with in a previous life. “The three of us will go in together tonight. Tell the others to get back to the airport and tell Bill he’s flying me, George and Luke out tonight. We’ll land in the morning. With any luck, those guards will be drinking themselves silly tonight to celebrate their victory and won’t be expecting or prepared for a new assault in the morning, especially during daylight. No one will be anticipating a second rescue attempt this quickly so we’ll have the advantage of surprise and hopefully some pretty powerful hangovers.” He took a few steps and turned back to the group of stunned agents. “And gentlemen,” he said to all the people in the room, “not a word of this goes out to anyone. Not even Jim Peterson. There’s something wrong with this situation and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.” Turning to his second in command, he said, “Jason, put two guards on the father and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Put a wire tap on his home and cell phones and someone needs to monitor them at all times. Keep him here as much as possible but if he leaves, make sure someone is with him. I even want someone in his bedroom when he’s sleeping. Tell him that we’ve received a threat on his life or make up another story, whatever it takes but don’t let him out of your sight.” Jason nodded quickly. Having worked for Mitch for years, he knew when to argue and this definitely wasn’t the time. He couldn’t help asking the question they were all thinking though. “You don’t suspect him of hurting his own daughter, do you?” Mitch looked across the table, his blue eyes turning into ice with the anger churning within him. “Something about his reaction was wrong. I can’t put my finger on it right now but I just don’t like it. At this point, I’m not saying he’s involved, but I think he might do something to put her in further danger. Something stupid.” Jason nodded curtly, his boss’ explanation good enough for him. “Consider it done.” Mitch Hamilton’s instincts were legendary so if he had a feeling about the father, there would be extra caution taken in all matters dealing with the man. Mitch didn’t even nod to his agent, since carrying out orders was part of their job. He expected and received expeditious actions to all commands. At times, life or death were at stake and everyone had to react quickly. “I’ll be at the airport in thirty minutes,” he said. “Make sure Luke and George are there as well,” he said, walking out the door. To the agent who followed him out the door he said, “And get me the schematics to the building the agents were approaching earlier. We should have something more solid from the satellite images. I also want a more complete file on the woman. Get me all the data you can find on her finances, interview the people she works with, I want to know every man she’s dated and anything else you can find out about her. I know there won’t be much from the usual sources because of her father’s position, but get everyone working on digging deeper. There’s something here that we’re missing and I want to find out what it is.” Twenty five minutes later, Mitch was on board one of the private company planes that were maintained for just this sort of situation. Hamilton Securities was one of the most successful security agencies in the world partly because of the ability to get anywhere in the world quickly but also because Mitch hired only the best in the business. His two top agents were already at the airport when he arrived, neither of whom had hesitated in backing him up on this mission. Five minutes after they boarded, the plane was airborne, heading south, the pilots understanding the urgency of the situation and had taken steps to have air clearance within moments of passengers boarding. Luke and George took their seats and, after several jokes to break the tension present at the start of every mission, were instantly asleep, both of them knowing they would be without sleep for potentially a significant amount of time and were trained to take it when they had an opportunity. Mitch knew he should do the same. The plane would land in four hours, maybe less depending on the tail wind, and he’d have a two hour hike to the holding point where the hostage was being held. Unable to sleep for some reason during this mission, he pulled out the building schematics and several drawings of the nearby buildings, going over his plan once again and looking for areas in which there could be a problem. After looking at the layout of the hostage site, Mitch had already decided he wouldn’t go through the window as the others had before. The guards would be expecting that and might have traps set up to capture, wound or kill any team trying a rescue for a second time. Assessing the vegetation around the building, he quickly calculated the weight of the branches on the surrounding trees to determine if they could take the required weight. Once he was sure it would work, he checked his backup plan. The walls were thin and with the right tools, it would work. He’d just have to distract the guards enough to make sure they didn’t hear the noise. A few grenades in the right direction at the right time would provide enough distraction. Especially if the objects in the corner of one building were what he expected them to be. Satisfied that he had everything planned out, he sat back on a pile of black nylon rope and re-read the case history and some of the new information his agents had dug up since the debacle earlier today, trying to figure out what was bothering him about the mission. There was something about the story that didn’t ring true. Eve Peterson was twenty four years old, blond, blue eyed, slender and with a great smile. There were several photographs in the file and he looked at each one. There were three pictures of her with different men, each one of them described as her latest fiancé. She’d apparently been engaged three times, never making it all the way to the altar, but so far, none of his analysts had found any other men she’d dated. In fact, the dating period would have to be very short for each of the men due to the dates on the engagement announcements for each man. Studying the pictures, he noticed that the men were smiling but Eve Peterson was not. Her expression wasn’t angry, but just…expressionless, he thought after several moments of looking into those soft, blue eyes in each of the pictures. Cynically, he assumed she was probably already trying to figure out how to get herself out of the latest engagement and move on to the next sucker who would fall for her lines. Flighty little thing, he told himself, pretending it didn’t bother him. He wondered if she just didn’t like commitment or if she was one of those women who liked to lure men into her web, then cut them dead when she had what she wanted. Either way, she was beautiful on the outside but probably a cold-hearted bitch on the inside. He questioned why he was flying down to a hostile country in the middle of the night, going through what might be a great deal of trouble to help a woman who was probably not worth his efforts. The thought didn’t have an answer so he stopped asking questions to which he probably wouldn’t like the answers. Mitch tossed the pictures back into the file and went to the rear of the plane to check his equipment. He went through each bag, ensuring that the equipment was not only sturdy and in good repair but that he had backups of everything. Electronic equipment failed, ropes tore, metal broke with enough strain. Nothing could be depended upon so a back up plan and equipment was not only preferred, but essential. Once that was done, he came back to the front of the plane and sat down in one of the soft leather chairs and forced his mind to go blank. He might not be able to sleep but he definitely needed to relax. Tension caused accidents which created failed missions. Hamilton Securities had a reputation for no failed missions and he wasn’t going to let this one be the first. When the pilot rang three and a half hours later to let the passengers know they were within a few miles of the drop zone, all three men woke, were instantly alert and moving into action. Mitch nodded with satisfaction as both of his agents immediately went to work, no one needing direction. They were all pros and knew exactly what needed to be done and in what order. About The Sisterhood Trilogy When writing this trilogy, I knew that I wanted to create an impulsive, blond bombshell.  The other characters hadn't fleshed out yet in my mind.  As I started writing about Claire, the other two ladies slowly came to life in my mind.  Usually, coming up with the names for my characters is pretty difficult.  But with The Billionaire's Impulsive Lover, I knew that Claire's name had to be the opposite of her personality.   She's a computer hacker and loves breaking into Mitch's home. She is very secretive and loves the espionage side of Mitch's work.  I started The Sheik's Virgin Lover on a sweltering hot day.  The only thing that could make the day hotter was to do some sort of sports activity.  My son was (is) really into basketball at the time so my thinking was to make the opening scene hot and sweaty.  That - and the fact that I absolutely love writing sheik stories! The Russian's Tender Lover is another one of those stories that I started many years ago, wrote probably eight or ten thousand words on the idea and then couldn't make it work.  I knew I wanted a story about a woman that the world didn't understand - sort of a Paris Hilton type of figure - but one with a personality that was the complete opposite of that perception.  One of the things I love about writing is that I wrap myself up in the world I'm creating.  So I can become anyone for a few hours at a time.  The double life is a recurring theme in many of my stories.  It probably stems from the fact that I was a number cruncher (and manager of number crunchers) for a Government consulting companies for years, presenting and analyzing numbers, profit margins, gross contribution and variances.  But at night, I changed out of that role into my "secret identity" of romance writer.  It was a heady change!  I started out intending to write just a trilogy, but when I completed The Russian's Tender Lover, I knew that I wasn't finished.  Darcy's brother simply had to become part of the series.  He'd lost his sister because of his father's criminal activities but he fought to find her once again.  So, I knew that I had to write Marco's story - The Billionaire’s Gentle Rescue - as well.  That's the reason that this "trilogy" actually has four stories instead of the normal three. The Sheik’s Virgin Lover Chapter 1 The sounds were ominous for this time of the day. Only the skidding of shoes along the pavement, an occasional grunt and, of course, the thump of the ball. This was a serious issue and every move was quickly calculated before execution, each person accounted for if only out of the corner of one’s eye. Failure was not to be tolerated in this game. With July’s smoldering sun beating down on the blacktop, Emma Knightly swung to the right, then faked to the left, spinning on her back heel before racing down the court, dodging in between taller players. Ignoring the heat from the blazing summer sun and the sweat as it chased its way irritably down her back, soaking her cotton tee-shirt and plastering it against her skin, she almost smiled as she angled between two teens, easily a foot taller than she. Emma was hot, but she was also on fire. She’d get this basket, she just knew it! Two more steps, dribble, swing to the right, one more step…. And the basket ball disappeared. She blinked once. Twice. Her hands seeming to be still dribbling even when the basketball wasn’t with them. Emma looked around, stunned that she wasn’t still in possession of the ball. And then she spotted the evil ball stealer as he raced down the asphalt court in the opposite direction. Furiously, she spun on her heel and raced after him, tossing her long brown pony tail off of her neck impatiently. “Jerome! You stole that ball,” she cried out and called out after him, running towards the back court, after what she now considered her ball, her topaz eyes glaring with determination as she sprinted down the court, her shorter legs unable to compete with the teen’s longer stride. The wily teenager didn’t even pause as he shifted quickly on the heel of his shoe, making headway against the opposing team. “Hey, short stuff, come on over and get it if you think you can,” Jerome called back and Emma didn’t bother to glare at the others who laughed. She was on a mission. “Over here, J!” she heard Manny call out. Mike, T-Jay and Gregg all shot out of nowhere and blocked her so she spun on her heel and faked them to the left this time, easily getting around their human, testosterone laden barricade. “Out of my way, boys. Padre, get to the left,” she called out to her one and only teammate. She almost smiled with delight as the five guys shifted to the left, ready to block Father Michael’s progress down the court but they’d worked out a plan in advance and Father Michael shifted to the right and sped down the court, already in position when Emma ducked under the arm of a six foot three inch Jerome who was blocking, whipped her arm out and stole the ball. In a perfect pass, she tossed it high, down the court to Father Michael who shot from the center, sinking the ball through the hoop. She high fived Father Michael on the two point gain among the groans and complaints from the opposing team. “Don’t let it get to you boys,” she laughed. “But you can guarantee I’m going to be spreading it around that you got the ball stolen from someone you referred to as ‘short stuff’. Jerome, you bring it in,” she said. Jerome walked to the edge, no lines in place here, everyone just assumed the boundaries of this basketball court where precious paint was reserved for covering up gang graffiti and wouldn’t be wasted on applying regulation lines to the beaten up asphalt court. Jerome, in an over abundance of confidence, decided to mimic the pass Emma had just done down court to Father Michael. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the advantage of experience, or practice. Emma, along with all six other players, watched in slow motion as the basketball soared through the air, over the basketball hoop at the other end of the court, over the tall fence designed to keep the ball in the area, and just kept on going, arcing beautifully, gracefully and mercilessly, down onto the windshield of the most beautiful limousine any of them had ever seen. All of them stood there, unable to stop the ball, unable to believe that something so horrific had happened on top of the painfully hot afternoon. Maybe one or two of them, in that millisecond space of time, had the forethought to wonder why a vehicle like that was traveling in this section of Washington, D.C. when most people didn’t even leave their houses after the sun started setting over the capitol building for fear of being mugged. But none had the time to voice that thought aloud as the horror of the moment struck each and every one of them. Within seconds, the limousine had stopped, as had three other black SUVs that had been traveling in front of and behind the limousine. Black suited men with large machine guns and pistols at the ready lined up, all of them scouring the area to determine the threat, calling out to each other in a foreign language. Emma cringed, wishing more than anything a rusty old pickup truck or tow truck had been passing through this neighborhood. It was the inner city, and there hadn’t been a vehicle worth more than ten thousand dollars pass through here in more than a decade. What kind of luck was there when the one time an expensive car comes through, it gets hit with a basketball as it passes? What kind of crazy game was fate playing? With the sun beating down hard, the smell of hot, sweaty bodies surrounding her and panic welling up in her chest, Emma moved slowly forward, holding out her hands as the focus of all those weapons, not to mention the scary eyes hidden behind even scarier dark glasses, trained on her. “I’m really sorry, gentlemen, but I promise you there is no threat here. Please stand down,” she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw curtains flicker as neighbors poked their heads out of windows. Someone jumped from the street into an open door, disappearing as the tension became palpable. “Really, it was simply an accident and we’ll pay for the damage,” she said, her mind frantically searching for some way to diffuse this situation. “Please, let me explain.” The back door to the limousine opened and two of the men in black suits raced forward, speaking quickly but whoever was behind the door ignored the arguments and stepped out. Emma almost gasped as her eyes took in the man who was slowly standing up from the back of the beautiful car. He was incredibly tall with heavenly shoulders. If all those men had been standing together, she would have said that this man was the lead guard instead of some important person who had yet to be defined. He was also wearing sunglasses, but as he stepped out, he pulled them off and looked around, his eyes moving over the group of teenage boys until they spotted her, and then stayed. As he moved forward, the tension seemed to change. It had been violent scary before, but now, as the man moved forward and Emma’s eyes took in this man from head to toe, noting his dark eyes, his almost handsome face centered by a hawk like nose and black eyes, firm but somehow incredibly sexy lips, she knew that the tension was different. Scarier in some way. More personal. She didn’t understand it, and she definitely didn’t like it any better than before, but at least now she didn’t feel like deathly bullets would be flying around imminently, wounding and killing. The men with guns moved forward with the man and Emma glared at their guns. Now that she didn’t think they were going to use them, she wanted them hidden away but she didn’t say anything, waiting for someone else to speak. The man walked up to within one foot of where she was standing. Looking down at her, with that horrible heat of the sun still pulsing down on her head, Emma wanted to do something but she wasn’t sure what to say or do. Squirming, she simply stared back at the man who was looking at her as if she were some sort of bug he was about to dissect, wishing she didn’t look so hot and sweaty…so unfeminine at the moment. Clearing her throat, she started to say something but instead, she heard a growled, “Bow,” off to the side. Her eyes moved from the scary huge man in front of her to where she’d heard the word. “Excuse me?” she asked. “Bow!” the man in a black suit and black glasses repeated. Emma blinked. “Why would I do that?” she asked, completely confused. She glanced back up at the man in front of her, her hands moving to her hips. “Does he really expect me to bow?” she asked him. The sexy and oh-so-dangerous mouth quirked up into a smile. “I believe my body guard is explaining the appropriate action at the moment.” Emma almost laughed but restrained herself. “Interesting, but still uninformative. Why would I bow? I’m not really grasping why that would be appropriate at this time.” she asked. The man smiled now, his white teeth showing through his tanned skin. “It is expected when someone is formally introduced to me. But allow me to do the honors,” he said as he held out his hand. Emma automatically took his hand, but was even more surprised when, instead of a firm handshake which would immediately convey reciprocal respect, he lifted her hand to his lips. She allowed the touch for almost three seconds, before the burning sensation caused by his touched terrified her. Jerking her hand free, she stared up at him, her heart racing and her knees suddenly wobbly. One of the guards started forward the moment her hand was jerked away but the man was instantly halted when the man in front of her simply raised his hand slightly, his eyes never leaving her face. “I am Prince Dharran Mihail Bin Wassan, Sheik of Sundab.” “No way!” Jerome said from the side of her. Emma turned to look in Jerome’s direction, her eyes widening as the name sunk in. Jerome took a step forward but the guard stopped him. “Ms. Emma, this is the guy here for meetings with the President. He’s doing some sort of cooperative energy conference that’s going to experiment with solar power that will be used in conjunction with hot fusion.” “Hot fusion?” another voice came in and Emma thought it was Father Michael’s voice, but she wasn’t positive. At this moment in time, she couldn’t say anything with certainty, possibly even her own name as confusion ruled her mind from his touch. Someone else stepped forward, eagerly explaining for Emma. “Sure! It’s the latest technology and so many people are racing to get it right. It could replace fossil fuels as the energy of the future.” Emma turned back to the strange, tall man, grateful for the reprieve but knowing she had to do the right thing in front of these teens, who had only been exposed to the wrong thing and were finally learning to make good decisions with their lives. “Your Highness, I apologize for the basketball mishap. I promise there was no threat to your person, and the Rec Center will pay to have the windshield replaced.” She hoped that would suffice to get things cleared up. The man didn’t speak and she started to wonder if he spoke English. Turning to the body guard who had ordered her to bow, she asked, “Does he speak English?” The man surprised her by chuckling softly. “Indeed I do speak English, my lady. And several other languages.” She looked up at him, her heart racing even faster with the amusement lurking in his eyes, along with something else that absolutely terrified her. “I’m sorry. That was insulting. I guess Americans just assume that everyone speaks English and at the slightest hesitation, we assume the worst. When in reality, we’re the country that is the least educated in the various languages.” That little speech pacified the body guard, but the prince didn’t seem to change his expression. Emma took a deep breath, desperately trying to figure out how to ease this situation for both sides. “If you’ll follow me inside, I’ll give you my contact information so you can let me know how much the repairs will cost.” She turned and started walking inside, then turned back when she realized that she was the only one walking towards the building. Turning to the boys, she called out, “Jerome, bring it inside to the showers. Game’s over.” Jerome was no longer looking at the man with awe and respect. But instead, he had a belligerent stance, one that Emma knew all too well. “Ms. Emma, this man was staring at your butt!” he said, his chest puffing out and his shoulders rearing back. “He was disrespecting you!” The other teenagers had noticed as well and were filing in behind Jerome with Father Michael looking around and shaking his head. Emma also started shaking her head. “Guys, he wasn’t staring at me at all. He was being polite and considerate, just as all of you should striving to be.” Her words didn’t have the effect she’d hoped to achieve since all five teenage boys continued to stand firm, lined up and ready to defend her honor. “Ms. Emma, you turned around and he stared at your butt,” Macky replied, backing up Jerome’s claim. Father Michael started forward but Emma knew this wasn’t going to end easily unless she cleared it up. “So what? Are you saying you’ve never stared at a girl’s butt?” The boy’s face flushed slightly under his dark skin as she challenged his double standard. “You’re different, Ms. Emma.” “To you, maybe. Because I’m older but there’s really no difference. This is exactly what Father Mike’s discussion last week was about, objectifying women and you guys do it all the time. So don’t be a hypocrite when someone else does it.” She turned to face the man who was too scary for words. “Apparently it’s a universal trait among all who have testosterone racing through their blood stream.” Turning back to the teens, she shook her head. “If I’m going to ignore it, then so are you.” She didn’t wait for a response but turned back to the center’s building, intending to go inside and pray that they all followed. “Hit the showers,” she called back, not bothering to check. If they didn’t follow her instructions, there would be hell to pay. As soon as she got to the door, she looked in the glass, checking the reflection. Thankfully, the boys were dispersing, but not happy about it. All were mumbling and shaking their heads. “Give it a rest, T-Jay. After the way Janey broke up with you last week, you have no room to give this man any grief.” Instantly, she noticed the changed body language of T-Jay. His shoulders drooped and he looked at her instead of Prince Whatchamacallit. The rest of the boys followed suit, distracted by the mention of T-Jay’s breakup and they moved to the side, discussing the issue amongst themselves. “Your Highness?” she prompted when the man continued to watch the scene play out, his attention moving from the teens to her and back again. Father Mike moved over to the boys and Emma, disgusted with the whole situation, simply walked inside to her office, preferring to leave the kids to deal with it now that the threat of violence was gone. In her office, she shuffled through her papers to find something to write on. Finding an old grocery list, she wrote the phone number across the center of the back as well as the address of the Recreation Center, along with her name underneath. By the time she had finished writing, she felt the heat in the already hot office go up by about fifty degrees as the man himself walked in. Looking around, Dharran noted with fascinated interest the rusted desk covered with papers, the plastic covered chair and the book shelves being precariously balanced with chipped cinder block squares. His eyes noted with disgust that the other rooms in the building were in better shape than this tiny office and yet the woman with the fascinating cat eyes and scintillating body was actually proud of her surroundings. How could a slender, stunning young woman with a figure men would pay a ransom to hold in his arms, and yet she seemed extremely content, happy even, to be shooting hoops with a group of troubled teens and a Catholic minister. “This is where you work?” he asked, his eyes taking in the striking beauty smiling at him. Her eyes were an odd color, almost the color of a dark topaz, with all of the facets of a well cut stone shimmering out her nervousness of his presence through their depths. Her long, dark hair curled around her face despite the band that was trying to control it at the base of her neck. She might possibly be described as an all American beauty, but there was something more to her than normal. Her smile was extraordinary, while still being warm and welcoming. And her figure beneath her sweaty clothes that were about two sizes too large for her petite frame, was something any man would dream about. Emma barely had time to register his perusal before the veiled interest was securely locked behind those sharp, ice-blue eyes. She looked around at her office as if nothing were out of the ordinary and shrugged at his question. “Well, it’s where all the paperwork is kept. I’m not in it much.” His hands slid into the immaculately tailored slacks, bringing Emma’s eyes to his trim waist, distracting her for a moment before she re-focused on his face once again. “Why is that?” he asked. She blinked, trying to focus on the conversation and refusing to look at his broad, enticing shoulders. “Because of the heat. It’s a bit stifling, if you didn’t notice.” She wasn’t sure he did though. Even though it was the peak of summer with all the stifling, oppressive humidity that comes along with any summer in Washington, D.C., this man was the picture of cool and comfort. There was not a hair out of place on his perfectly cut head of hair and she didn’t detect even a hint of sweat anywhere on him. Meanwhile, she was becoming uncomfortably aware of her own odiferous presence after playing two hours of basketball in ninety degree heat with an equal dose of humidity. “Can I get you something to drink?” Dharran looked down at the woman who was going to be his next mistress and smiled. “I would like that very much. But perhaps you would like to freshen up so you are more comfortable?” he asked, reaching out and tapping a curl at her temple. “You look very fetching when you are like this, although I would prefer that the perspiration be due to my ministrations versus an energetic game of ball.” Emma’s eyes flickered in confusion, sure she’d misunderstood him. “Excuse me?” she asked. Dharran shrugged. “Shower? And then perhaps you could also show me around the center? I was impressed with the way you handled those boys outside and I’d like to learn more about the things this center does.” Emma was sure he was only humoring her, but considering that she probably owed him several thousands of dollars to fix the windshield of his car, perhaps a tour of the facility could ease that amount downward a bit. Any sort of outflow of cash that didn’t help the kids was to be avoided whenever possible. “Of course,” she responded with an enthusiastic smile. She stepped around him, careful not to touch him in any way. Grabbing her gym bag, she turned back to him. “I’ll just be a few moments,” she said, then slipped gratefully out of her office, noting with frustration that the other men who apparently were his personal body guards had followed him and were currently stationed outside her office. Of course, they hadn’t followed her, but had followed him since he was the one who needed protecting, but even still, it was weird having body guards in her center. Rushing through her shower, she changed quickly into a cotton dress and, not bothering to dry it due to the heat, simply pulled her hair up off her shoulders, pinning it on top of her head and ignoring the curls that escaped out the sides. She had always wished she had smooth, straight hair that was more disciplined, or hair that curled softly at the ends and looked more elegant like her friend Darcy, but she couldn’t help what she had. Besides, she only had to impress the man with the center’s accomplishments, she reminded herself, not with her appearance. She stopped and applied a bit of lipstick and powder though. Not because she wanted to make an impact on him, she told herself as she added a touch of mascara, but only because she needed to look professional as she led him around the facility. Stepping out of the shower area, she felt the cool air hit her and she was grateful. She needed more of this air conditioning to cool herself down. Her knees were already shaking in anticipation of seeing him once again and she felt a bit nauseous. Needing to get this over with, she dumped her bag in her office, then went in search of her missing prince. She found him in the study hall area, looking around at the books on the shelves. She was proud of this area, with the relatively new computers and the multiple shelves books of all types lining the walls and tables. She’d been able to build up this library bigger than the city’s school library and many of the kids flocked to this area. “We spend a great deal of our budget on books,” she said as she approached him. Dharran swung around, eager to see what she looked like without the perspiration and grungy clothes. And he definitely wasn’t disappointed. As lovely and intriguing as she was after an energetic game, this woman was stunning in a simple dress and sandals, fresh and vibrantly alive with her hair curling around her forehead and delicate earlobes. His fingers itched to feel those curls, and slide down her smooth, white skin to see if she was as soft as she looked. Right now, she looked like a kitten. A soft, sexy kitten with topaz eyes that promised so much. He wanted to find out more about this woman, see what made her purr. Patience, he told himself. He sensed a resistance about her that was unusual, but not insurmountable. He pictured her laying back against the silk sheets of his bed in the Paris apartment and his body hardened even more. He wanted her, no doubt about it. “You have an impressive library here. How do you account for all the books?” Emma smiled, proud of what she’d accomplished here along with the students and parents. “We have an honor system. The kids take the books and promise to bring them back.” One eyebrow went up cynically. “And if they don’t?” “They do.” “But if they don’t?” Emma shrugged. “So far, it hasn’t been an issue. These kids are so starved for knowledge and attention that taking a book and not returning it would be a huge violation of their code here on the streets of this neighborhood.” She touched the spine on a science book talking about chemistry. “I suppose if one became lost, we would work something out.” “That’s an impressive statement” She looked into his eyes, seeing the hardness, the skepticism. “The kids who come here have either been in a gang or experienced some other sort of violence their whole life. If they are here, it’s a given that they want to learn or they’d still be out on the street with their old friends. They have to earn the trust. It isn’t given freely. But once they earn it, it’s pretty precious to them and they aren’t willing to give it up easily.” She watched his eyes and a sadness filled her heart. “You don’t trust very easily, do you?” Dharran watched her features soften, an almost melting quality appeared in their startling depths, and didn’t like it. The question was ridiculous anyway. Trust wasn’t something he ever gave out to anyone, man or woman. He’d learned growing up in the palace and through many political and military battles that trust was given only by a fool. “What else does this center provide for the neighborhood?” he asked instead of answering her question. She hesitated before answering, looking deeply into his eyes as if she could see into his soul. She couldn’t, he knew. His soul was black and guarded and he’d never let anyone in, especially not a woman as beautiful as she was. Women were playthings but, just as a kitten is cute and sweet initially, the claws of even a small creature could draw blood. Emma wondered what it must be like to be so hardened and distrustful. This man had been hurt by someone in the past and she wished she had the courage to reach out and try to heal his soul. But the man was hard, dangerous even, she suspected and so she kept her hands by her sides. Healing this man was for someone more courageous than she was. Refocusing on his question, she looked away from those eyes that reminded her of a blue tinted iceberg. “We partner with several businesses in the city to provide a work study program for the kids who qualify. All the kids have to achieve a certain grade point average in school to participate in the center.” “And if they don’t achieve that?” “We don’t turn anyone away. If their grades don’t qualify initially, all they have to do is get help to raise their grade point average. It’s as simple as asking one of the members to tutor them until their grades have improved enough. And we try to entice the kids as early as possible so that they succumb to the allure of whatever activities we have going on.” “How do they pay for the tutors?” She looked back at him strangely, as if the question were completely bizarre. “They simply ask for help.” “And the help is given freely?” he asked, one eyebrow raised as if the possibility was completely ridiculous. “Of course.” She stopped and looked up at him. “This is a neighborhood center and each person who participates here is dedicated to the success of the center. So if someone needs help, they ask for it. If they’re given help in some way, then they try to give that back at some point. It’s a chain reaction that supports the ongoing efforts.” “And all agree to this benevolence?” “Of course. Any activity needs volunteers. Each of the major events is hosted by the participants.” “And the food?” “We have some funding from government and private agencies as well as some commercial businesses, but for the most part, everyone contributes what they can. There are some amazing cooks in this neighborhood. When we have our next bake sale, I’ll let you know so you can sample the offerings,” she replied with a bright smile. He watched her lovely features light up with genuine excitement as she spoke and he was impressed that she had accomplished so much at such a young age. “How old are you?” That question surprised her but it shouldn’t have. “I’m twenty-five years old. Is that relevant?” “To me it is,” he said and one finger ran down her cheek. “Now that you have given me the tour of your wonderful facility, I will take you to dinner to repay you.” Emma stepped back, burned by his touch and terrified of his offer. It wasn’t really an offer though, it was more of a command. She couldn’t hold his gaze and looked away, frazzled and her heart racing. “The tour was my pleasure but dinner is unnecessary.” “Of course it is necessary. I would like to know more.” “About the center.” “About you.” She shook her head, not wanting to get any closer to this tall, dangerous man who terrified her on so many levels. “Thank you but I’m afraid that’s not possible.” “Anything is possible.” The Billionaire’s Impulsive Lover Chapter 1 “I’m in,” Claire Johnson whispered to herself, her fingers flying skillfully over the keyboard as she typed in the various coding she would need. The low murmur of voices from the other patrons faded away, her complete concentration focused on the screen in front of her. The only pause was when she sipped her raspberry flavored cappuccino and the delicious scent of the coffee momentarily broke through her focus. She had to move fast, get the information and get out, hopefully without being detected, but more importantly, without getting caught. This project, this mission, was too important to fail. This particular coffee shop had an extremely good connection so it was easy for her to work expeditiously. The well-used computers weren’t the best, although they would hide her presence adequately. “Ha!” she laughed as the files filled up the screen and she absently tucked a platinum curl behind her ear. With a click and a tap, she downloaded the files onto her flash drive, unknowing and uncaring that several men stopped to admire her Marylyn Monroe-like appearance. While the data was downloading, she scanned the gourmet coffee bistro, blinking chocolate brown eyes made larger with the mascara and dramatic eye liner she’d worn this morning in an effort to create a bit of excitement to her day. She glanced to the right and left of her temporarily rented computer, wondering if anyone else might know what she was doing. She’d chosen a computer closer to the window where no one else was working so she had a bit of privacy, but she of all people knew that privacy was illusory. Hopefully, she was still flying under the radar but nothing was absolute. That’s one of the reasons she was doing this at a public facility with multiple terminals instead of at her house on her own computer. Hacking into company databases to search for information wasn’t a good idea if one wanted to stay out of jail. Normally, she wouldn’t have dared to do anything so drastic, but Gary had been missing for three weeks now and she was the only person who had the capability to figure out where he might have disappeared to, besides the police, who hadn’t taken her seriously during her last visit. It was also why she only accessed one database at a time, making sure no one was able to tag her and find out where she was. After another forty-five seconds, she had the information downloaded and she carefully logged off of the computer. As casually as possible, she slid the chair back and pocketed her flash drive, now filled with the information she hoped would lead her to finding her friend. Picking up her coffee and opening a magazine to the latest fashion article, she strolled through the coffee shop looking as if she were trying to understand the national debt. If anyone were to look closely, they’d notice that she wasn’t actually reading the article on the various shoes coming onto the fashion world this fall but Claire hoped no one was looking that carefully. Normally people in these sorts of establishments were absorbed in their own worlds, wanting privacy themselves. Twenty minutes later, she badged herself through the gate at her work office, smiled to George, the security guard, and stepped into the elevator along with about twenty other workers returning from their lunch breaks. With a sigh, she set her café coffee on the side of her desk and pulled up the latest computer code she’d been assigned to work on. Within another twenty minutes, she’d fixed the code and sent it off to the programmer who was having problems, then pulled up the next code. Claire did this for four hours, one set of code after another, she worked on fixing other people’s errors. Some were simple fixes that the programmers should have figured out on their own, others were slightly more complicated, but nothing took her more than a few minutes to fix. She’d been promoted to this position six months ago after being a programmer for a couple of years. Her current company thought her position was a huge advancement, had lauded her as one of the best and brightest, an up and coming star in the corporate information technology world. Unfortunately, Claire hated the job, even though the promotion came with a window office, which was nice, but the space was still cramped, beige and boring. She didn’t really think of her work as a career, since she knew she didn’t want to do this for the rest of her life. It was just a job, one that paid the bills. Unfortunately, her heart wasn’t really into it. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do, but fixing other people’s problems definitely wasn’t it and so far, she hadn’t been able to work on any programming that was challenging and exciting. She knew how to write code quickly and efficiently, better than the average programmer by far. That didn’t mean she had to like it though. She wanted something daring and exciting, something that was cutting edge and over the top. Something that would make a difference in the world. As soon as she walked into her apartment that night, the phone started ringing. Dumping her laptop and purse onto a red plush chair, she picked up the phone while checking caller ID at the same time. “Hi Darcy. No, I haven’t found him yet, but I downloaded a bunch of data during lunch.” While her friend spoke, she walked to her personal computer, unplugged the internet connection and moved the mouse to take the system out of hibernation mode. She didn’t want to analyze any data while connected. She wanted total privacy while reviewing this information, since she wasn’t supposed to have it in the first place. “Give me thirty minutes and I’ll call you back. Call Emma and let her know what’s going on, okay?” Claire hung up and plugged in her flash drive. Her fingers manipulated the information and she sifted through the data. Darcy and Emma were her best friends, had been friends since college and had stayed in touch ever since. They got together about once a week now, catching up on each other’s lives. Well, she and Darcy got together. Emma was in some foreign country, married now to a gorgeous sheik and helping him run his empire. She’d just had a little girl a couple of months ago but Emma still took time away from her royal obligations to call or chat online with both her and Darcy. Their conversations were wonderful and it didn’t matter that they weren’t physically together anymore. Besides, Emma was madly in love with her new husband, which made her not being a physical part of their trio much easier to endure. Claire was starting to worry a bit about Darcy though. Her friend was absolutely gorgeous with soft brown hair and the sexiest hazel eyes known to womanhood. Darcy was also estranged from her mob boss father and brother, her mother having passed away when she was younger. Darcy’s father was constantly trying to get his daughter into settle down to a good mafia marriage. Darcy on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with that world, abhorring the criminal element and what they did to society. Instead, she used her celebrity status to raise money for her one and only passion; animals. About once a month, Darcy would hit the nightclubs, getting paid to show up simply because the paparazzi would photograph her coming and going, report on anything she did, who she danced with, what she wore and anyone she spoke with. It was the perfect advertising for the nightclubs, who got their names in the tabloids and glossy magazines, and with Darcy’s stamp of approval, their success was practically guaranteed. Any club Darcy showed up at became an instant success, and the current talk of the town, with other celebrities following wherever she appeared. The fact that Darcy only showed up occasionally in public only increased her mystique, the papers frantically trying to anticipate where she might be and what she did while she was out of circulation. The rumors were rampant that she’d slept with many, many men. The truth was the complete opposite, but Darcy didn’t care what the tabloids said, as long as the night clubs continued to pay her to show up and she could fund her animal rescue hospital. Claire’s concern came with Darcy’s increasing celebrity status and the way the paparazzi were following her so obsessively. Men were also considering her a challenge, which was increasing her costs because she now had to hire additional body guards when she went out. It was all a game, but Claire worried that something bad would happen to Darcy, perhaps that one of her fans would take things too far, or that her attitude towards men would continue to deteriorate. It was a difficult tightrope Darcy walked, one that could cause serious harm if she were to fail in some way. Vowing to discuss her concerns with Darcy the next time they met for lunch, Claire’s fingers whipped through the data, sorting and filing much of it for later, but trying to zero in on anything that could give her a clue that Gary might be doing something for someone at this particular company. She knew he was a private investigator who had worked for Titus Securities, but mostly under cover. After a half hour, she realized that the information she’d recovered today was useless. There wasn’t a single indication that Gary had ever worked for Titus Securities, but that might be simply because she hadn’t gone deep enough or that this round of data didn’t include the clues necessary to determine his assignments and where he might be now. Hopefully, he was still working and not lying in a ditch somewhere, hurt and unable to get help. Sighing with frustration, she plopped her head in her hand, closing her brown eyes before the tears of frustration started. Claire knew in her heart that something was wrong. Gary had been so sweet and attentive, always bringing her coffee at work, meeting her for lunch and bringing her flowers before almost every date, leaving her each evening with a gentle kiss and no pressure. He was the ultimate boyfriend, she remembered as she dialed up Darcy’s number. She couldn’t leave a man like that to some horrible fate. No, any man who wanted to just be with her on a date, who didn’t make a move for something she wasn’t willing to give, was definitely worth the effort to help when he was in trouble. Except for that one little thing, she thought. The one fly in the ointment of their perfect relationship. He just didn’t turn her on like she wanted. There was no fire when they touched, no sparks after, or during, any kiss. It was nice and pleasant, but Claire wanted passion. She wanted excitement and danger. Sighing, she thought that perhaps she just couldn’t have that kind of experience with a man. She was starting to suspect that she’d simply have to find that through her work life. She’d dated so many men over the years and not a single one tempted her even a little bit. Gary was kind and considerate though, which covered a lot more ground than the other men of her past. Most of them were obnoxious and few had lasted more than a couple of weeks because she simply wasn’t willing to put up with their pressure to take their relationship to the next level. None of them tempted her to go down that path. Maybe that’s why she was so interested in Gary. He represented all the things she wanted to do with her life. He was kind, considerate, fun, had a very exciting career based on the cases he’d told her about on their dinner dates, and he had to disappear every once in a while for what she thought had been exciting, secret agent types of missions. Meanwhile, she was stuck in a computer job that had her tied to a desk reviewing other peoples’ code. Claire waited while Darcy’s phone rang, wondering if maybe an aerobics class or perhaps a pottery class could fill the void she was feeling now. “Nothing,” she said as soon as Darcy answered the phone. “Not even a social security number that would indicate he had worked for Titus in the past.” Darcy sighed with relief. “Are you going to accept that Gary lied to you now?” Claire sat up straighter at her desk, surprised that Darcy had jumped to that conclusion after such a short investigation. “He didn’t lie to me. I just haven’t found the information that can help him.” “You’re being sweet and loyal, Claire. But perhaps a bit obtuse as well because you’re lonely and bored, a dangerous combination with someone as brilliant as you are, I’m realizing. If there’s no indication that the man worked for Titus Securities, then maybe he didn’t work for that company and lied about the fact that he was even employed.” Claire instantly rejected that idea. “No. In my gut, I know something is wrong. He wasn’t the kind of person who would simply leave like this. He’s in trouble. I can feel it.” Darcy groaned softly but the sound came through the phone lines. “Claire, you’re about as stubborn as they come, aren’t you?” “Absolutely not. I prefer to think of myself as tenacious,” she said with a mischievous smile. “Potato, patahto,” Darcy chimed. “You’re out of your mind and one of these days you’re going to get yourself into a heap of trouble. The police should be looking into this guy’s disappearance. Not you. You’re not equipped to deal with all the intricacies of this kind of situation, despite your unquestioned brilliance at software programming.” Claire pushed her fingers through her platinum hair with frustration. “I went to the police. They shrugged it off like Gary had just found another girlfriend. They wouldn’t believe me when I explained that I knew something was wrong.” Darcy heard the tone in Claire’s voice and knew there was more to the story than what Claire was saying. “And? What happened next?” Claire sighed and slumped back in her chair. “He hit on me. Asked me out to dinner and said he’d be happy to take Gary’s place.” Darcy laughed but Claire didn’t think it was very funny. “You’re laughing, but you don’t like it either when men think you’re easy. And I can’t even describe the irritating leer the police officer gave me as he leaned over the counter to get a closer look down my sweater. He actually thought I was too stupid to realize what he was doing!” “I’m always amazed at how men underestimate you. And I’m with ya on the irritating men hitting on women side of things too,” she agreed and sobered quickly. “But it’s just comical the way men are around you. It’s like you’re some sort of honey and all the bees are flocking to you.” “That’s silly. Especially coming from you. You always have a man on your arm when you hit the clubs.” “That’s all advertising and contracts. The men I’m with have paid to be on my arm.” That stunned her. “Really?” “Sure,” Darcy confirmed. “My agent suggested it about a year ago. She explained that some men just wanted their names attached to mine, exactly like the night clubs. So she said we should get paid for that as well.” “Isn’t that dangerous?” “It’s all choreographed, just like the night club visits. They sign a contract that is pretty tight. Some of the men reject the contract thinking a date with me might get them a chance at more, but that’s their choice. The terms are nonnegotiable and I’d rather know up front if a guy is going to be a problem. The contract terms easily weeds out the freaks.” Claire considered that for a moment. “Interesting,” she thought, wondering if perhaps Titus contracted out help to private contractors. “Claire, I don’t like the sound of that tone. What are you thinking?” Darcy asked. Claire was already distracted, her fingers typing in new code for her next visit to a coffee shop. “I’ll get back to you when I have more details,” she said and hung up before Darcy could argue with her. She loved her friend but at times, Darcy was too much of a mother hen, wanting to protect her chicks from non-existent wolves. Chapter 2 “Another breach, sir,” Jeff Fulton said as he walked into Mitch Sargent’s office. Tossing a report on the man’s desk, he stood in front of it, prepared to answer questions. Mitch picked up the report, instantly irritated but not showing anything on his hard, experienced face. “Where was it this time and how the hell did someone get through our firewalls again? It’s like this person doesn’t even realize there’s a security wall to breach, they get in to our systems much too easily.” “Anther coffee shop with pay by the hour internet access. The code is good,” Gary said, letting the information sink in. “Whoever this hacker is, they’re looking for something specific. The same types of files are downloaded each time.” “What type of files is the hacker getting into?” he demanded, his ice grey eyes quickly skimming through the details of the hacker’s code. Mitch was impressed despite himself. This code was good and fast, going for exactly one type of file with efficiency. “Human resources data?” he guessed. “Exactly,” Gary confirmed. “None of the stolen data is confidential information but it could be pretty important.” “We do it ourselves when we need information about certain issues. We do it legally though.” Mitch tossed the report onto his large, polished desk and looked out at the magnificent view from his office window. From here he could see the Shenandoah Mountains which never ceased to amaze him. Their majestic peaks and valleys, old, weathered and beaten but still standing tall in the distance, served as inspiration as well as a challenge and he loved the sight as much as he loved this company he’d built up on his own from sweat, hard work and intelligence. Titus Securities was known internationally for ensuring corporate data and superior building security, among other things. And this hacker, although only a nuisance, he was getting into information that was none of his business. But until Mitch could figure out what they were going after, he wanted them to keep on digging. Dismissing Jeff with a curt nod, he rubbed his chin, considering all the options. “I’ll get back to you shortly,” he said and turned to his computer. This wasn’t a normal computer though. This puppy was state of the art with eight screens and connections to some of the world’s most protected information. His concentration was unswerving as he worked through the details of a program. Mitch didn’t even notice that the daylight had faded and velvety night time was moving deep into the morning hours. When he finally looked up and stretched, he’d been working for twelve hours straight but the program he’d created was perfect. There was a Trojan horse that would be installed whenever someone hacked into one of his computer systems again. If they downloaded information from his company one more time, they’d also be downloading a virus that would give him the information he needed to catch the bastards. With another few clicks on his keyboard, he sent it off to his security team with instructions on how to load it up. First thing in the morning, all the databases would be loaded and, when this hacker tried again, he’d have the location of where they were downloading the data within seconds. Catching the person was another issue, he thought. Going down to the communications control room, he went directly to the map of Washington, DC, ignoring the shocked reactions of the late night analysts who were working on their monitors. It was extremely rare that the CEO of their company showed up in the control room. Titus Securities was headquartered in Washington, D.C. but he had branches in fifteen other cities of the United States and twelve countries worldwide. All the coffee shops that had sponsored the hacker were located in the Alexandria, Virginia area, a suburb of Washington, D.C. which was a data point in itself. With a red erasable marker, he worked on locating each of the coffee shops. Realizing when he was done that the marks were scattered within a five mile radius of each other. Another interesting point. As he worked on the details, the night shift shut down and the morning crew came back in, all of them staying quiet as they noticed their big boss working in the control room. By eight the next morning, Mitch was on his second pot of coffee and Jeff strolled up next to him. Noting his boss’s unshaved appearance and slightly unkempt clothing, which was normally immaculate, he deduced that Mitch hadn’t left the building yet. “Find anything interesting?” he asked as Mitch grimaced on a large swallow of cold coffee. “I got more information last night,” he said and showed Mitch the cross checking he’d done overnight. Mitch was impressed and, with another few keystrokes, he loaded Jeff’s information into his. As the other analysts noticed what was on the main screen, a few of them came over and started brainstorming. Mitch took their ideas, working them into what information they had and by lunch time, he had a plan and a program that would start to close in on the culprit. “Good work, everyone,” he said to the group of men and women who were the brains of his analytical operation. All of them had higher than average IQs but were a little less socially adept. As long as they could whiz through computer systems, he didn’t care if they dated. They produced results and that was enough for him. An hour later, he drove home, his sleek grey Jaguar eating up the miles into the mountain side until he came to the tree line that hid the entrance to his house. The large, white modern building was an oasis from the chaos that sometimes erupted in his business. As he walked into the house, he greeted Duke, his German shepherd guard dog and best friend who was already wagging his tale in anticipation of their nightly adventures, stripped off his clothes and walked straight out to the swimming pool. With one clean stroke, he dove into the pool, instantly feeling refreshed. He swam lap after lap for over an hour, tossing the ball to Duke who jumped into the pool after retrieving the ball, happily bringing the ball back to his master. The punishing swim and the enthusiastic antics of his fierce friend quickly cleared his mind of the cobwebs from the previous eighteen hours but he mentally continued to go through the details of his programming and trap to see if there was something else he could do to catch this person. He didn’t like someone trying to hack into his company files and he was damn well going to throw the person into prison for as long as possible. The trick was catching the culprits. The Russian’s Tender Lover Chapter 1 Darcy watched it all as if it were a movie. The only way to get through the evening was to pretend like she wasn’t here. It was the only way to get through the night so the flashing lights didn’t make her dizzy, the painfully loud music, which could be felt by the thumping vibrations as well as heard, didn’t give her a splitting headache and the four inch heels she was wearing didn’t make her feet ache as if the bones themselves were rebelling against the abuse. Instead of being in the middle of the dance floor as she was now, she pretended that she was sitting in a comfortable theatre seat watching the scene. In her movie, the people moving to the heavy beat of the music, laughing and flirting, were all actors, all playing their parts. As was she. She was only an actress playing a part, Darcy reminded herself. She’d developed this part, this character, coming up with the props, choreographing not just the movements but also the entrance and exits of the main players in each scene, the accessories, the clothing. She’d even written the script. It had taken her years to perfect this scene, years of sweat and aching feet, cheeks sore from smiling and laughing, sleep deprived nights, exhausting, draining flights zipping across the globe to wherever the next scene needed to be played. She had worked to ensure that the correct “audience” was watching too. It wasn’t all about the place, props and the costumes. Any director will admit that the audience is key. Play to the audience and everything works out exactly as planned. Smothering a yawn because there as always someone watching, Darcy continued moving, swinging, laughing. All in an effort to play to the audience. Every time she wanted to just toss everything to the wind, she reminded herself of Fred and Ginger. They needed her. She was all they had and she couldn’t let them or any of the others down. “I need a drink,” she yelled out above the music. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her already indignant toes and glided off the dance floor heading straight to the bar. Uncaring if her dance partner was with her or had even heard her, she slipped between the tightly packed bodies until she reached the bar, her eyes rapidly surveying the group of bartenders working diligently to mix all the drinks for the other patrons, slipping their tips into pockets, ringing up credit cards and flashing smiles to whoever was the highest bidder. It was all so cumbersome, she thought, smiling as seductively as possible to Jim, another actor who was playing his part perfectly. Stepping up onto the stool’s wooden foot rest next to her, she was able to get her whole upper body above the bar. Leaning over at the exact angle so that her dress titillated those behind her, hoping to get a flash of more than simply skin, she also purposely looked like she was flashing the bartender, who ogled on cue, and then smiled his gratitude as he leaned in as Darcy whispered something in his ear. Right on time, she felt rather than saw, the flash out of the corner of her eye. Perfect, she thought with relish. The cameras had been smuggled in somehow, as they always were. Those paparazzi were ingenious at stalking their prey. Nodding, the bartender moved back, winked and proceeded to mix her “special”. A few moments later, two large martini glasses were placed in front of her, just as her dance partner managed to make his way to her side. Her partner apparently wasn’t as agile at sneaking through hot, sweaty bodies as she was, but since this was her profession, she’d refined her skill so she was especially adept at maneuvering through the throngs. Leaning against him slightly, she smiled up at him, winked and downed the contents of the first glass in one smooth movement. With a walk that started to falter, she reached out to hand the martini glass back to the bartender with a nod to fill it up again. “More of the same!” she called out, being heard by several other patrons nearby. Her dance partner wasn’t as smooth and was only able to sip his martini. She felt a bit sorry for him since his was straight gin with only a breath of vermouth but there was no time for sympathy in this drama. The play had to go on! When the next martini arrived with great fanfare, she drank half of that one as well, then pressed against her date, smiling seductively up at him, winked, then moved back through the crowd, all of whom recognized her by now and moved out of the way, eager to see what antics she’d be up to tonight. Chapter 2 Just a few more minutes, Darcy told herself, trying to encourage her feet to keep moving despite the painful throb each time she stepped onto the hard concrete surface of the sidewalk. She and her “date” had just left the night club and the limousine was within reach so she only had a few more steps and she’d be okay. George, her driver, stood beside the back door, holding it open as she and her date made their way from the last nightclub of the evening to the car. Just a few more steps and she’d be done for the night, she told herself. Smile, look up at the guy adoringly, three steps, avoid looking at the flashes of cameras, she told herself, stumble a bit more to make the ten “martinis” more believable. It was all choreographed perfectly and she had to maintain her character for only a few more moments. At the open doorway of the limousine, she stopped and looked up at her date as if she were in love, making sure the name of the nightclub was in the background. Not that she’d know what being in love felt like, she thought disdainfully as her date helped her into the waiting back seat. As a bonus, because this guy was so nice and considerate, she leaned up and touched his cheek with her hand, looking into his eyes, seduction evident in every movement. And Jeremy, sweet, considerate, kind Jeremy, moments before he too dove into the back of the limousine, howled like a wolf in heat. She heard the chuckles of the papparazi a moment before Jeremy slammed the door closed as the engine pulled the long, sleek car away from the curb. Away from the flashes of cameras that made the wee hours of the morning light up like it was mid-day on a hot beach. Darcy laughed as Jeremy chuckled and messed up his hair. “Good job, Jeremy,” she said without even a trace of an inebriated slur. He ruffled his already messed up hair and sighed, sinking into the soft leather of the luxurious seats. “That was fun,” he replied. “You’re very good at this.” She waved her hand as she slipped off her strappy shoes, cringing painfully as the leather straps pulled way from her tender skin. Straightening her feet was the next best thing to heaven, she thought. Or at least right now. She’d soak her feet as soon as she could, easing the pain a bit more. “It’s all in a night’s work,” she said once her shoes were off and she could straighten out again. A moment later, she pulled a bag off the opposite seat and unzipped the top. “You’re going to have to turn away for a moment.” She pulled out a pair of well worn jeans and a sweat shirt. Jeremy did as she asked, even closing his eyes so he couldn’t see her reflection in the darkly tinted window. Not that he’d see anything. Her night clubbing costume came complete with a body stocking that was comfortable enough to wear underneath her sweatshirt while she could just slide her jeans up underneath her itsy bitsy dress. The body stocking covered everything underneath her dress and ensured that she could move around during these plays without any embarrassing photos showing up on the internet the following morning. It took her less than sixty seconds to get out of her costume, at which time she tossed the dress onto the other seat. She didn’t care how it landed, she’d never be able to wear it again after tonight. It would go to a consignment shop for re-sale, but not quite yet. She had to wait until the photos of her in the dress showed up in the tabloids and sometimes that took a few weeks. Even her dress sales were carefully choreographed. “Thanks, you can turn around now.” Jeremy immediately turned, his eyes widening at her complete transformation. “Wow, you really hated that dress, huh?” “Oh yeah,” Darcy replied with fervor. “They’re all pretty annoying but serve a higher purpose. Are they still following us, George?” she called to the driver. “I think I lost them a few blocks back but give me a bit more time just to make sure,” he replied. Darcy nodded her head and started pulling out pins from her hair. “Don’t you want to take off that tie? Relax a bit?” Jeremy shook his head. “This is a bit too fascinating to ignore.” He watched as her long, brown tresses fell down around her shoulders, which were then quickly gathered back up and clamped together with an old scrunchy, complete with locks hanging down behind her and loosely hanging down about her neck and shoulders. At this point in the evening, she didn’t care if her hair looked neat and tidy or like a rat’s nest as long as nothing was poking her scalp. Next came the makeup cloths. Darcy loved this process the most. As she wiped the already damp cloths against her skin, she could feel her pores start breathing once again. This process took significantly longer than the clothes and hair transformation, but when she was finished, Jeremy’s whistle of astonishment proved that she was completely transformed. “You could pass for the girl next door,” he said, amazed at the before and after difference in the woman with whom he’d just spent the last several hours dancing. “Bite your tongue!” she said, looking at him aghast. He laughed and glanced back through the rear window. “Looks like we’re free.” Darcy looked as well, her eyes scanning the buildings and corners, ensuring that they weren’t being followed. “I think you’re correct.” Calling out to George, “What do you think? Are we safe?” “Think so!” he replied and immediately swung to the left, heading towards the rendezvous point. Thankfully it was only minutes away but Darcy was already packed up by the time the limousine pulled up next to the darkened Lincoln. Sticking out her hand, she smiled, “Jeremy, you were wonderful tonight. Let’s hope we both have good outcomes tomorrow.” “You’re a real trip,” he commented back, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. As soon as the limousine stopped, Darcy jumped out and dove into the passenger seat of the waiting Lincoln. As soon as both doors were closed, the black vehicles separated, splitting off and going in opposite directions. “You’re right on time, Matt,” she sighed as the driver and her friend winked at her and turned up the heat, knowing how she felt the cold more than others. He always told her it was because she didn’t have enough body fat but she would just roll her eyes and shake her head. Darcy looked out at the night, sighing wearily. The city lights flashed by but she didn’t see them anymore. She was tired of the lights, tired of the game. Tired of everything right at the moment. As they traveled away from the city, slowly the city lights faded and became fewer but the Lincoln continued to travel west, heading into the rural areas beyond the city. Darcy wouldn’t know this since she was fast asleep, her legs tucked underneath her and her head resting on her bag as a pillow. The sun was almost over the horizon when the Lincoln came to a gentle stop. Matt put the car into park then got out and came around to the side. “Darcy. You’re home,” he whispered. From experience, he knew to wake her slowly. She was generally disoriented when she was out this completely and would need a bit of help. Darcy sat up and looked around, not saying a word. There was only one light on outside the car but her mind slowly started to function. “We’re home,” she croaked out, her voice gone from all the shouting in the clubs, not to mention the smoke of the night clubs. “Yep. Do you need help walking?” Matt asked. Darcy shook her head and slid off the seat. Taking a tentative step, she pulled herself out of the car, grabbing the sides to steady herself. The walk from the car to her tiny cottage seemed like a mile but in reality it was only about twenty feet. “I’m fine,” she claimed, trying to reassure both herself as well as Matt who was hovering, looking concerned. “Don’t worry about me. Go ahead and let Dave know that you’re back. He always worries on these nights.” “Dave knows the drill just as well as I do and I’m not leaving until you’re sitting on the side of your bed, darling.” Dave and Matt were significant others who helped her on so many levels, not to mention just being very good friends. Matt was always there for her, knew the routine and no matter what Darcy said, he wouldn’t leave her until she was in her snug little cottage. There was a great deal of comfort knowing that someone was there to pick you up when you fall, she thought, smiling at his stubborn expression. Sure enough, as soon as she stepped out of the car, her legs gave out on her, too tired from hours of dancing in painfully high heeled sandals. That’s what happens when one doesn’t train for these things correctly. Matt didn’t laugh, didn’t joke or say “I told you so”. He simply put a long, muscular arm around her waist and took most of her weight onto his side, practically carrying her inside. The lights were dim and she sighed with pleasure as she spotted her bed, quilt turned back and pillows even fluffed. “Dave’s a good guy,” she sighed as Matt lowered her to the bed. He even bent down and pulled her sneakers off. “He sure is, love. Go to sleep,” he said but he didn’t need to tell her. Darcy had already slid down onto the mattress, jeans and all, her arms curled up under her pillow as she sighed with happiness. Chapter 3 Sergei Anchova’s cup stopped mid way to his mouth, his concentration broken by the doors to his office bursting open, his baby sister in tears as she stomped up to his desk. He was busy reviewing the latest financial reports on one of his companies and wasn’t amused by the interruption. “You have to do something, Sergei! This has to stop!” Sergei considered family most important, until they gave him orders. His little sister was generally a beautiful woman with her blond hair curling softly around her shoulders. That image was distorted at the moment since her brown eyes were tearfully shooting daggers at him. Besides her lovely exterior beauty that could so easily be destroyed by her anger issues, she also possessed a lamentable addiction to being spoiled and a sense of entitlement that he couldn’t seem to break her free of. On more than one occasion, he’d considered cutting off her allowance and forcing her to work for a living, but his mother had always talked him out of it somehow. Carefully setting the china cup back onto the saucer, he looked calmly at the crazed looking termagant standing in front of him. “Good afternoon, Anya. To what do I owe this…not so unprecedented outburst?” Anya was a decent sort, tending to be a bit impetuous but he attributed this latest outburst to her upcoming nuptials, assuming something else with one of her vendors had gone wrong and she wanted him to fix it. Again. “I told you. Get rid of her!” Sergei leaned back in his chair, noting the color in his sister’s cheeks and the tears artfully dropping from her long, black lashes. She really was a lovely girl, if she would just grow up and gain some perspective. Obtaining employment would be advantageous to her temperament, although he doubted she would follow through on anything. It was probably his fault though. Being thirteen years older, he tended to see her as more of a child. It didn’t help that she acted like one more often than he cared to admit. But she was getting married, albeit to a man he didn’t fully approve of yet. If Sergei had his way, he’d marry his sister off to someone with a bit more back bone. Anya tended to walk over her fiancée, Nicolai, who did everything she demanded of him. She claimed to love him though, so he’d allowed the wedding to proceed. Although he was currently tempted to send her to her room rather than indulge in yet another fit of outrage over something probably as trivial as the napkins being rose instead of blush, a detail he couldn’t give a damn about but was apparently of utmost importance to a bride. “Could you be a bit more specific?” he inquired, nodding to one of the chairs in front of his desk, silently ordering his sister to take a seat and calm down. Anya didn’t heed the warning, but continued to rant and rave, becoming more agitated when she realized that her big brother, the man who always came to her rescue, was not as outraged at this latest atrocity as she thought he should be. “That woman! She’s stealing Nico from me!” A napkin was one thing. An insult to his family name and honor was entirely a different matter. With deadly calm, Sergei stared his sister into silence. “Please explain in more detail, Anya,” he commanded. Now that she had her brother’s full attention, she took a deep breath and sat down in one of the chairs. “That witch! That stupid, vile, fiancé stealer has put some sort of spell on Nico and now he wants to call off the wedding. A month before the date! I’ve already had my final fitting!” Sergei didn’t give a whit about her dress. A cheating fiancé, on the other hand, was a completely different subject. That implied weakness on his part, something he would not allow to persist. In business, any sign of weakness was considered an invitation to raid. He wouldn’t allow anyone to consider him, or his family, weak. “Tell me more,” he said with soft, deadly patience. Anya hesitated, not sure that coming to her merciless older brother was such a good idea now. “You won’t hurt him, Sergei!” she sniffed. “I will do what needs to be done. Tell me why you think he’s cheating on you.” She hesitated once more, but wasn’t willing to let her Nicolai go to this tramp of a woman. She loved him too much and she needed desperately to marry him. Although she couldn’t tell her brother that, or he’d…she shuddered, not wanting to contemplate what he might do if he knew the truth. Sergei was not just merciless, he was terrifying when he put actions into play. She’d seen him crush his competition over the years and even as a small girl, she’d known not to get in his way. Anya was eternally glad that he was on her side, she thought as she took a deep breath. “Over the past week, I’d noticed that he kept calling one phone number repeatedly, so last night, I stole his cell phone and found the number. After finding out who it was, I was livid. I told him to delete the number from both his cell phone as well as his memory and never see her again, but he refused. He said he was in love with her and had to find out if there was anything between them.” Sergei raised a thin eyebrow at her words. “Your fiancé is in love with another woman? And you still want him?” She scoffed. “Nico isn’t in love with that tramp! He’s just having prewedding jitters. But it’s humiliating and I want it stopped. You’re the only one I could turn to who wouldn’t blab the news all over the tabloids.” Sergei acknowledged her assumptions with a nod of his head. “It was wise of you to bring this to me. Although I would recommend that you eliminate him from your life, despite the wedding. He isn’t worthy of your love if he’s going off calling another woman.” “But don’t you see? He really does love me. And he’s perfect for me. I just know we’ll be happy once he forgets her and comes back to me. It’s all just a silly little crush that he’s using as a way to weasel out of the wedding. He’ll be fine once he understands that.” “Why don’t you talk to him?” She didn’t answer for a moment, trying to control the tears that threatened her makeup once again. “Because he’s gone off in search of this….” Cutting her off before she started voicing more foul language which would only delay understanding of the issue, he smoothly interrupted, “Why did he have to leave?” Anya waved her hand in the air as if his question was silly. “Because no one knows where she goes. The rumor mill has her in a million different places so even I can’t find her. I’ve even called all my favors with the press and they’re stumped. You wouldn’t believe what I had to promise to make sure this didn’t get into the tabloids.” Sergei sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps you should fill in the details. A name would be helpful.” “Darcy DiAngelo,” she said with exasperation. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said?” “Yes. Of course, but I can assure you that at no point in our conversation did you ever provide a name for this mysterious vixen.” Anya was having none of that. “Don’t call her anything so complimentary. She’s horrible and she’s ruining my life!” “I would argue that perhaps Nicolai is the responsible party. Or more specifically, you are giving someone the power to do that to you.” She waved that aside. “Don’t give me that philosophical mumbo-jumbo, Sergei. Will you help me or not?” “Of course. I cannot have your fiancé embarrassing the Anchova name. I will have him back at your side for the Brenizi party.” Anya jumped up, all smiles once again now that her latest problem had been resolved and she didn’t have to lift a finger. The Billionaire’s Gentle Rescue Chapter 1 Zoe Parker stared at the piece of paper detailing her company’s financials, closed her eyes for a moment while she took a deep, calming breath, and then opened her eyes so she could look one more time. Unfortunately, the numbers didn’t change! She took another deep breath and tried to calm down. Something had to be incorrect because this balance simply couldn’t be accurate. That negative sign before the ending total surely couldn’t be right! There had to be a mistake, someone had calculated the amounts wrong or a number entered incorrectly. With shaking fingers, she dialed her bank, not even patient enough to deal with an e-mail which she normally would have preferred to use. That negative balance at the bottom of the page was too terrifying to wait for an e-mail response. When she finally reached a human being, Zoe gave the teller her account information and all the pertinent information. “Can you confirm my company’s bank balance?” she asked, almost whispering through the phone. When the woman read off the amount, it was the exact same amount that was on her statement. “But how can that be?” she asked, trying to think and not let the panic overwhelm her. “The balance on last month’s statement was…” she rifled through the papers on her desk and came up with the prior month’s statement, “It was over one hundred thousand dollars,” she said, swallowing painfully. “That’s correct ma’am, but there was a large payment made one week ago, a check submitted to a bank in the Cayman Islands.” Zoe was already shaking her head. “No. That can’t be correct. There’s a mistake. I don’t do business with anyone in the Cayman Islands.” There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then some tapping on a keyboard. “I’m sending a scan of the check to you now.” Zoe gripped the phone with one hand while she pulled her keyboard closer with the other, typing in the password to get to her e-mail account. “I see it,” she said and pressed the key that would open up the check. As she stared at it, she started shaking. “No, this isn’t possible. We don’t have any business with this vendor. I don’t understand.” “There have been over a dozen other checks made to that account in the past ten months, ma’am,” the teller explained kindly. “Could this possibly be a matter that we need to bring the police in on?” she asked politely. Zoe nodded her head, then realized that the teller couldn’t see her. “Yes. I believe this is definitely a matter for the police. I think there’s been a mistake. Let me call my accountant and I’ll get back to you.” She hung up the phone and quickly dialed Andrew Miller’s private office, her fingers almost missing the numbers they were shaking so violently. The phone line didn’t pick up although she let it ring more than twenty times. She hung up the phone and jumped about a foot when someone knocked on her door. “Look at this fabric!” her assistant Debbie said, bubbling over with excitement as she showed Zoe a bolt of butter yellow silk satin that seemed to change colors as Debbie moved it in the light. One moment it was buttercup yellow, the next it was a shimmering peacock green. “Isn’t it amazing?” Any other time, Zoe would have instantly moved from her desk to her drawing board, coming up with several dress designs that would suit fabric so stunning. But right at the moment, there was no creative inspiration, no designs zinging through her mind and no price point on which to sell the final design. There was nothing but a paralyzing fear of what the future of her clothing design company might be if she didn’t find her accountant and get this mess straightened out with the bank. “It’s lovely,” Zoe replied with as much enthusiasm as she could muster under the circumstances. Unfortunately, Debbie wasn’t fooled. “What’s wrong?” she asked, placing the bolt of fabric onto the table. expecting?” “Did Justin break it off like you were Zoe had completely forgotten about her wayward boyfriend who had missed the last few dates they had set up. This morning, Zoe had been pretty blasé about the whole thing, not hurt at all by Justin’s defection. In fact, she’d actually been relieved because she knew she wasn’t interested in Justin although she’d tried very hard this time around to show more interest. Her friends had been teasing her about her lack of romance, and all because she refused to settle for lukewarm ardor from a man. She’d experienced intense passion once, although it was a long, long time ago. They all told her that mind blowing, finger zinging passion didn’t truly exist, except in her imagination and she needed to be more realistic and give men more of a chance. Zoe had tried, but she just couldn’t settle. She’d never been one to settle in her life, which was why she’d been able to create her own company, manufacturing her own designs every quarter with seven percent annual growth over the past four years. She’d never settled romantically either, although she’d dated some genuine losers over the years trying to recreate that passion she’d experience once. “Justin wasn’t one of those liars or cheats you’ve dated in the past,” Debbie was saying. “He was the genuine article. He was one of those nice, sweet, dependable guys a woman can count on and settle down with. You even ran a background check on him, nothing came up. So what was the problem?” Zoe shook her head, her long, brown hair falling about her shoulders over the long sleeved red sheath dress she’d worn today, reminding her that she was supposed to meet Justin for lunch. “Justin and I didn’t break up,” she said. “But I have something urgent to do.” Her mind worked frantically to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t throw her friend and assistant into the same panic Zoe was currently fighting. “The fabrics for the spring line are held up so I need to find another supplier,” she lied, coming up with the first thing she could think of. She hated lying to Debbie who had been with her since the beginning, hanging on during the troubled times with late nights, no sleep, pricked fingers, crazy vendors, clients and employees as well as lots of tears and laughter. Zoe couldn’t tell her friend that the business might be bankrupt. Not right now anyway. “Ugh!” Debbie replied, rolling her eyes. “If that supplier didn’t have the best fabric designs, I’d tell you to find someone else. But they really are spectacular,” she said and backed out of the office. “I’ll leave that with you anyway,” indicating the iridescent yellow fabric. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with for that color,” she said and closed the door once again. As soon as she was alone again, Zoe’s office was once again thrown into stunned, horrified silence. The work room beyond her office filled with more than fifty staff members were all laughing and chatting as they worked hard to finish the orders for the current fall line which was due to be mailed by Friday. Since it was Wednesday already, they had only two days left. Thankfully, this crew was loyal and dedicated and the previous pattern of crazy time crunch and late nights in order to meet the supply order deadlines wasn’t going to happen this quarter. Zoe picked up the phone once again and called her accountant’s home phone number. She almost started crying when the mechanical voice told her that the phone had been disconnected. Grabbing her purse, she raced out of the office, waving to anyone who called out to her. Normally, she would stop and answer questions but today, the crisis was just too ghastly. In her car, she sped out of the parking lot behind her building, slipping sunglasses on as she exited from the alley into the bright sunshine. This couldn’t be happening, she thought, trying to remain as calm as possible. There was too much money involved, too many lives that would be impacted if her suspicions were correct. Three hours later, her whole body ached. She let herself into her loft apartment, slipped her feet out of her shoes, and then curled up on the multi colored sofa. The loft was basically the only thing she had left. She had no money to make payroll, which was due in five days. Apparently, she hadn’t been paying her suppliers for the past three months and there was no trace of her accountant. His office was even cleared out, not even a desk was left and the trash had been taken out. Not a scrap of paper or furniture anywhere in the suite where he’d previously had several assistants working diligently. His house out in the suburbs was empty with a “Sold” sign in the front yard. There wasn’t even a newspaper in the driveway, so thoroughly had the place been cleaned out and shut down. Apparently her accountant had been planning this for months, stocking up the money she’d entrusted to him to pay her bills and make her payroll. He’d wiped her out. She had some money in her private account, but that was only enough to cover her personal bills each month. She didn’t take a salary, putting everything back into her business so even that amount would run dry very soon. She’d been trying desperately hard to come up with explanations for the lack of funding, but when she’d found Andrew’s home empty, she couldn’t deny the truth any longer. She’d been robbed. Her accountant had embezzled all her money and she had nothing left. Nothing but her clothes. She’d gone to the police and filed a report, but their initial search had shown that Andrew had already left the country, his passport number showing him leaving the Unites States through the Miami Airport yesterday afternoon, heading to Grand Cayman. There wasn’t anything she could do from that end, but they would pursue some leads and check with his other clients to see if they had also been robbed. It didn’t matter that she was the victim of a crime and that the police were now involved to try and help, she’d still lose her company, the people who were relying on her for their livelihoods would be distraught as well because they wouldn’t be able to meet their mortgage payments or put food on their tables for their families. The man had stolen millions of dollars from her over the past few years. And what was worse, she’d given him the ability to do it. The responsibility was all on her shoulders. She’d failed. She’d failed her entire staff and she had no idea how to tell them. The tears were falling freely now that she was alone. Her loft was silent except for the light sounds of traffic outside her windows. A part of her mind told her she should make herself something for dinner, but she simply couldn’t get up off the sofa, despite the fact that she hadn’t eaten anything since her cup of coffee this morning. The knock on the door made her jump, but she didn’t get up. She simply stared at the wall, praying that whoever was knocking would simply assume she was not here and go away. “Zoe! I know you’re in there and I know something is horribly wrong,” Debbie called out through the metal door. “I’m not leaving until we talk.” Zoe smiled through the tears rushing down her cheeks, blinking to try and get control over her emotions. She sat up and looked in the mirror over her fireplace. Her cheeks were pink and eyes red, but she would have to come up with something to tell Debbie, but not the truth. Not yet. Zoe wasn’t ready for everyone to know how horribly she’d failed. As she padded barefoot over to the door, she took several deep breaths, hoping the extra oxygen would even out her skin tone and hide the effects of the second worse day in her life. Possibly the worst, she thought sarcastically because the day wasn’t over yet. Pasting a bright smile on her face, she pulled the metal door open. “What’s up Debbie?” she asked. Debbie stood in the hallway, her eyes taking in all the details of her friend’s face. After several moments, she shook her head and pushed her way into the apartment. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?” Zoe sighed and closed the door, following Debbie in her purple and black dress that would be overwhelming on someone with less of a personality. But Debbie could pull it off somehow. On Debbie, drama seemed…right. Ignoring Debbie’s fashion choices, Zoe sighed and crossed her arms over her stomach, hoping to hide the worst of the trauma. “Oh, just a tough day.” “Was it man problems like I guessed earlier this morning?” Zoe pounced on that excuse, not wanting to panic her friend just yet. “Yes. Justin didn’t show up for lunch again today. I’m going to dump him. It wasn’t working out anyway.” Debbie moved over to the kitchen, tossing her purple ruffled shawl over one of the painted wooden bar stools, this one orange which clashed even more with her deep purple shawl. With a thunk, she placed the canvas bag onto the counter which was actually a recycled old barn door, the rough wood sanded down and coated with a polyurethane coating to prevent splinters. “Justin called from the restaurant wondering where you were. He was worried about you.” With that little bombshell dropped, Debbie pulled out two bottles of red wine and watched Zoe’s expression. When the tears started, she pulled out two pints of ice cream, one cherry vanilla, the other chunky monkey. “Is there something wrong with your mom?” she asked. Zoe sighed, her shoulders slumping in as the totality of her failure overwhelmed her. “I wasn’t lying about the men problems.” “I’m guessing that some guy did something horrible to you. Since you’re still dressed, it wasn’t a rape. Since you’re in bare feet and not your slippers, it has to be monumental. And since you’re not downstairs working with the others to make the fall delivery deadline, it has to have something to do with the company. So spill the beans. What is it?” Zoe laughed through her tears and shook her head, somehow comforted that her friend and co-worker knew her so well. “Are you going to keep pulling things out of that bag?” Debbie nodded. “Depending on how bad it is, I have something for each problem. So spill it, darling. Did someone die?” Zoe gasped and shook her head. “No! Nothing like that.” “Then you won’t need the chocolates,” Debbie replied, taking her hand out of her canvas bag. Zoe laughed and ran over to her friend, throwing her arms around her shoulders and giving her a bear hug. “Oh, Debbie, what would I have done all these years without you by my side to help me through all this insanity?” “You probably would be one dress size smaller than you are now, because I’m the one who thinks all problems can be solved, or at least ignored for a little while, by eating. Since you’re already a skinny little creative genius, I don’t care that I’ve fattened you up a bit. So what’s going on?” she asked, pulling open a cabinet and getting two wine glasses, then sliding open a drawer for the spoons, pushing the cherry vanilla to Zoe and taking the chunky monkey for herself while she slid onto the hunter green bar stool beside Zoe. “Tell me. Whatever it is, we’ll get through this just like we have all the other crises in the past four years.” Zoe laughed, but that only made her crying worse. “You’d better hand me the chocolates,” she said, using the napkin Debbie handed her to wipe her tears away. “Or maybe you shouldn’t. When you hear what has happened, you’ll hate me and I’ll deserve all your animosity because I’ve messed up supremely bad.” “That bad, huh?” she asked, then slid the box of expensive chocolates across the counter. Pouring the wine, she said, “You’d better spill it because my mind might not be as imaginative as yours, but it’s coming up with some pretty awful things right now.” Zoe took a long sip of the wine, unable to appreciate the heady taste of the excellent brand Debbie had brought. She then set her glass down, took a deep breath and looked away from her friend as she said, “Andrew stole all the money from the company. I have nothing to pay the teams, no way to pay the current set of suppliers, and he hasn’t paid them for the past three months. The police have a report filed on him, but apparently he’s already off on some extravagant, and I’m guessing long term vacation in the Caribbean and as soon as the creditors find out about all this, they’re going to demand payment, of which I have no way to make. That means that our clients will also back out because we won’t be able to function on credit, nor will we be able to set up for the spring collection.” After she finished saying all that, she took another long sip of wine, set the glass down and waited in silence as Debbie absorbed everything Zoe had just told her. When the silence continued, Zoe couldn’t take it any longer. With trepidation, she looked over at her friend, her heart breaking as she saw the stunned look of horror on her face. “My sentiments exactly,” she said, and the tears started once more. Zoe turned away and took another long sip of wine, draining her wine glass, then lifted the bottle and poured more. Zoe couldn’t look at her friend, but the empty wine glass that appeared next to her newly filled one told her how much her news had impacted Debbie. Without a word, Zoe filled Debbie’s wine glass as well. “This calls for Sinatra,” Debbie said and took her glass of wine over to Zoe’s book shelves. They were the cheap kind, made of pine with only the supports and the shelves, but they worked in Zoe’s loft, fitting in with all the other eclectic pieces and colors. Debbie turned on the old fashioned stereo and put on a Sinatra record, swaying to the static filled music as she walked back to Zoe. Putting her arms around her friend, Debbie took a deep breath. “We’ve been through some tough times before. This won’t bring down the company. You’ve worked too hard to let it die now.” Debbie’s absolute show of confidence and support broke all of Zoe’s control. Her shoulders slumped and her head fell down, resting on her arms as she let the sobs break through. Debbie just stood there, holding Zoe as they both cried out the pain and disappointment over the day’s revelations. When Zoe was able to take a deep breath, Debbie pulled her over to the sofa. “Come on, let’s talk this through. We have to figure out what to do about this. There’s a solution somewhere.” Zoe took a deep breath and followed her friend, holding the ice cream and spoon close with one hand and the glass of wine and wine bottle in the other. Debbie sat down and both of them propped their feet up on the coffee table, took a large scoop of ice cream, drank a long sip of wine and each ate a piece of decadent chocolate. With all the essentials covered for the moment, Zoe asked, “How big is Grand Cayman?” “I don’t know,” Debbie replied, her mouth full of ice cream. “Is that where this bastard is hiding out?” “According to his passport papers, he is.” “I don’t know how large it is, but it can’t be larger than one of the states and we drive across that just for a weekend getaway. We could just fly down there and find the little weasel and demand our money back.” “There’s a problem with that idea,” Zoe said, downing half her glass of wine. Debbie took another bite of ice cream. “What’s that? Sounds simple enough to me.” “I don’t have any money to get there.” “I’ll pay for it.” Zoe laughed. “You don’t have any money either. Remember? I can’t pay you.” “Bob still has his job. He’ll pay,” she said, referring to her husband of ten years. “He can’t pay for anything because you can’t reach him most of the time. He’s working for that guy you call ‘The Evil One’, the guy that makes him work twenty hour days, remember?” “Hmm…I remember,” Debbie replied, filling her mouth with ice cream. “Okay, what’s your idea?” Zoe thought for a long moment. “Maybe we could build a boat to get down there. We could cut up all the cutting tables downstairs.” “And use the fabrics for a sail since we can’t afford gasoline.” ‘ “There you go!” Zoe laughed, her toes tapping to the sounds of Sinatra as he belted out ‘New York, New York’. “See? There’s a solution to every problem!” Debbie announced, re-filling both of their glasses. The two of them finished off the ice cream, the second bottle of wine and most of the chocolates by midnight, laughing hysterically at some of the ideas they were coming up with. Zoe was still miserable, but after two bottles of wine, she wasn’t really acknowledging the pain any longer. “Whose phone is that?” Zoe asked, squinting at her watch as she tried to figure out what time it was. “And why would anyone be calling at this time of the night?” She hiccupped as she worked at deciphering the time, “Or morning,” she said when she finally realized it was close to one in the morning. “Ah, that must be my phone, indicating that my darling husband has finally come home and realized that his loving and ever sweet wife is not there pining away for him.” Zoe groaned. “I can’t believe how many hours that man works.” Debbie struggled to sit up and find her purse, which had been nudged under the sofa during one of their forays into the kitchen for another bottle of wine. “I get to see him some weekends,” she joked as she pulled the phone out from her purse, still lying on the floor as she answered sweetly, “Helloooo!” Zoe thought about laughing, but was too afraid it would come out as a sob so she just took another sip of wine. “Of course you are! Why would anything be different?” she said with a groan. “So what time are you going to pick me up at Zoe’s place?” she asked. Zoe raised one eyebrow, frowning at the fact that her friend’s husband was obviously still at work. “An hour?” Debbie glanced at the bottle of wine, seeing that it was still half full. “That should work,” she replied happily. “Don’t you dare be late!” And she hung up the phone. “Okay, we have about two more hours to down this one, finish the next and come up with some sort of solution to this pickle.” Zoe giggled at the idea of her business going bankrupt, her employees being furious and possibly losing their houses or not being able to feed their families as a “pickle”. This was so much more, but she couldn’t think about that right now. More wine would fix that, she told herself and filled up both their glasses one more time. They continued to laugh and talk, coming up with even more outrageous ideas as they finished off the rest of the wine. When the doorbell rang, Debbie was the only one able to get up and make her way to the doorway. Zoe thought about it, but her legs just wouldn’t hold her up, so she sank to the floor by the sofa and tipped up her wineglass, frustrated when she came up empty. “Ah, my loving husband, come to take me home,” Debbie said from the doorway. Zoe closed her eyes and chuckled. “No making fun of him,” Zoe called out. “He’s not sitting on the floor after….” She squinted at the coffee table trying to count the empty bottles of wine, “several” she compromised, “bottles of wine.” “Very true,” a deep voice said from her left. squinted up. Zoe turned her head and “You!” She struggled to sit up so she didn’t look so foolish, but only fell more to the side, almost flat on the floor as her mind saw the man who had ruined her for so many other men over the years. Sighing, she closed her eyes. “You’re just a figment of my overactive imagination,” she said and pulled an orange pillow off her sofa to cushion her head from the wooden floor. “Go away, I don’t believe that it’s really you.” Then her eyes popped open as a terrible thought occurred to her. “You’re not Debbie’s husband, are you?” she gasped. The tall, extremely rugged man bent down to look into her eyes. “You know exactly who I am, Zoe,” he replied, his amused expression surveying her red dress and bare legs. “Even drunk and flat on your back, you look just as beautiful now as you did all those years ago.” The Tycoon’s Toddler Surprise Prologue She wasn’t aware of the salty tears streaming down her face as she listened to the soft beeping beside her. Kristin watched the monitor carefully, her eyes never leaving the jumping line that coincided with each beep, willing the line to jump. Praying with all of her heart that the line would jump. “You need to sleep,” the nurse said gently as she walked quietly into Kristen’s hospital room. “You’re body needs to recover.” Kristen knew that the nurse was right. She even nodded and closed her eyes for a moment, wanting to follow the nurse’s advice, willing her body to relax. But as soon as she heard the door swoosh shut indicating that the nurse had left the room, her eyes popped open and she continued to watch, both her hands gently covering her stomach as if to keep the tiny human fighting for life under her fingers warm and safe. “Please don’t give up on me little one,” she said to the empty room, although she was talking to the tiny girl in her womb, the tenacious heartbeat that was fighting for her life at the moment. “I promise I’ll do better if you’ll just hang on.” The antiseptic smells almost comforted her and the muffled murmurs of the medical personnel outside the room told her that help would be close if she needed it. Unfortunately it was all up to the little girl, barely sixteen weeks along in this life, who would have to decide if she wanted to stick around and meet her momma, or if she was too tired and frail from all the stress of the past few weeks to keep up her effort to survive. The doctors and nurses had done all they could at this point. It was now up to God and this child’s will to live. At some point during the night she must have fallen asleep because she woke to a darkened room but knew that Mikhail was there. She couldn’t see him, but there had always been something about him that had stirred her senses. From the first moment she’d met him it had been that way and even the terror of losing her baby couldn’t diminish the impact he had on her senses. “You’re awake,” she heard his deep, sexy voice say from somewhere at the end of her bed. She considered ignoring him, but knew from experience that one simply didn’t ignore Mikhail. “What are you doing here?” His sigh indicated his frustration, but he had better control of his emotions than she did. He always had more control she thought, and the tears started once again because he hadn’t been there to help her when she’d needed some of that strength and control. “You didn’t tell me you were pregnant,” he replied. His words, spoken so calmly, as if this were simply a meeting that she hadn’t included him in, broke through her control, releasing the stream of tears that had stopped while she slept. “You don’t have to worry about the baby any longer,” she said, knowing that he wouldn’t anyway. He was too busy setting up his next business deal, buying up whatever company he considered would be a profitable investment or a strategic move for a future business tactic. The man was a genius at making money and was worth more than one human being could spend in several lifetimes, but it was never enough for him. To be fair, Mikhail didn’t care as much about the money as he did about the challenge of beating the competition. He was brilliant at strategy and moved through the business world as if he owned it all. In fact, he owned such a large portion of the world it was ridiculous, but that didn’t help her right now and she wanted to hurt him as much as she’d been hurting for the past twelve hours as she watched her unborn child fight for life inside her body. “Just leave me alone, Mikhail.” Mikhail Benovich stared at the defeated woman lying on the hospital bed, her slender form taking up only a fraction of the space, and for the first time since becoming an adult, he didn’t know what to do. As he looked at her long, brown hair curling against the clinical white sheets, there was a sharp, stabbing pain emanating from the general area of his chest but he wasn’t sure if the cramping in his stomach was worse. As a man used to being in complete control, of knowing exactly what to do to win, usually several steps ahead of any competition he might run into, watching his wife of only six months cry silently in front of him made him ache in areas of his body that he didn’t recognize or know how to deal with and he hated the feeling. He wanted to fix this, but he didn’t know how. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that the loss of their baby was okay, but even thinking the thought in his mind made him hurt even more. He had to be strong though. She needed him now even if she didn’t know it and wouldn’t admit to wanting his strength. He sighed and thought about all the moments in the past two months that she’d been trying to tell him something and now he knew what that message was. He hadn’t listened though. He worked at least twelve hours a day and when he wasn’t working, he was socializing in ways that would gain him knowledge or valuable connections for a future acquisition. Kristen was the only person in his life that hadn’t wanted anything from him but his time. Sadly, time was something he had given her very little of since their honeymoon and even that had been cut short because he’d needed to get back to his business interests. He couldn’t even remember what crisis had occurred that pulled him away that week. Over the past two months, he’d noticed that she’d tried to talk to him, but he’d been so busy with this latest acquisition and the debacles of inefficiency he’d run into, that he’d either been coming or going from a meeting, or on a conference call with someone trying to work out the crisis du jour. He’d brushed her off so many times and, looking at her now, lying in the bed, defeated and more sad than he’d ever seen anyone in his life, he wished to have those moments back, to hold her in his arms and feel her softness, her sweet breath against his neck. She’d been trying to tell him that she was pregnant, that they’d created a life together and he’d pushed her away. Now it was too late. He understood from her response and the constant tears, the dark circles under her eyes and the way her hands were covering her stomach, that she’d lost the baby. How does one comfort when he was still reeling from the fact that he’d just lost his own child? It didn’t matter that he hadn’t know the child existed until a few hours ago, he still was furious with the God that had done this to him. He didn’t want comfort from anyone at the moment, much less a cruel deity that would cause such unbearable pain. He wanted to smash something. He wanted to grab one of the doctors outside this horrific room and demand that they fix this and make her whole again, to give him his child back. As his hands clenched the bars of the hospital bed, he wanted to fold Kristen into his arms and hold her gently, to feel her soft arms wrap around him like they had each time he’d pulled her to him at night when he’d finally joined her in bed. And she’d always turned to him no matter what time it was, her giving was unending. But instead of holding her, he watched helplessly as she cried herself to sleep, the damned beeping noise from the machines beside her driving him insane as it matched the rapid beating of his heart while he ruthlessly berated himself for not being there to protect his family, or even his wife. Sitting down in the plastic covered seat, he covered her hands on her stomach, praying to a God that he’d dismissed angrily as a child, asking for help and forgiveness, since he didn’t know where else to go. Throughout the whole night he prayed, yelling at God in his mind, and then transitioning into begging him to save this woman who was such an essential part of his life. He didn’t love her, he told God. He didn’t love anyone. That emotion had been destroyed when his own mother had died in the shack they’d called a home and he’d been left an orphan on the vicious, heartless streets of St. Petersburg, fighting for food from other homeless kids, finding shelter from the brutal winters in basements of abandoned buildings or warehouses. The warehouses had been worse because there was no protection from the cold but if that was all there was, he’d hidden out, hiding from the authorities in order to survive away from their cruel “protection”. Mikhail felt like that now. There was no defense from the pain shooting through him as he railed against an unjust and unloving God who would do this to his wife who had never hurt anyone in her life. The pain was unstoppable and he didn’t understand how to push it away. He wanted to help Kristen, but didn’t think she would allow his touch at this point. He took her hand anyway, stroking her cold fingers with one hand and covering her other hand, the one over her stomach, with his other. He knew it wouldn’t help but it made him feel better to be touching her, to be warming her if only through her fingers. He watched her as he prayed, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the cheekbones that were too prominent. She hadn’t been eating or sleeping well he realized and yelled at God for not taking better care of one of his own. And then he became angry with himself because, of all the things he had learned in life, it was that he took care of his own. And he hadn’t done that with Kristen. Sighing, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the high back of the nightmarish chair. He would rest for just a moment, he told himself, just a quick rest before he would wake and keep his vigil beside her. Chapter 1 Missy rolled her eyes when she spotted the envelope as Kristen slid the pictures in. “I can’t believe you’re still sending him updates, even after all this time.” Kristen forced her facial features to not tighten as she sealed the envelope. “It’s his daughter too.” “But has he ever acknowledged her?” Kristen didn’t answer since they both knew the answer. “He’s a very busy man. And whether he acknowledges Victoria or not, he still has a right to know what’s happening in her life.” “I would agree if there was any response at all. Even acknowledgement that he’d received any of the letters but you have sent them every month, religiously on the last day of the month for two years. There hasn’t been any response, Kristen. It’s time you gave up and moved on with your life.” Kristen turned away, looking at Victoria and her heart swelled with pride and love. “Would you ever give up on Tony?” she asked. Missy snorted. “As if that man would let me. But we’re talking about two different creatures here,” she said, glancing at her own three kids as well, two of them racing around the playground playing ‘tag’ and the youngest right behind Victoria on the toddler slide waiting his turn, although not very patiently she recognized. “Tony whooped and hollered the day I told him I was pregnant with Ethan,” she recalled, thinking of her oldest. “Whereas Mikhail had to wait until his business dinner was over before meeting you in the hospital the night you almost lost Victoria.” Kristen knew that there was a significant difference, and she’d give anything to have Mikhail home with them like Tony was every night, storming into their kitchen as Missy cooked and getting their three kids all riled up after Missy had finally settled them down to do their homework or playing quietly while she finished getting dinner ready. Missy pretended to be annoyed, but Kristen knew better. Missy wouldn’t trade Tony’s craziness for the world. She had a perfect family, even though it might be a bit more rambunctious and not as tidy as she’d like. “I know. You’re lucky, Missy,” she said softly, then shook herself out of the beginnings of melancholy. “But who knows, maybe I’ll say something in one of these letters that will get through to him and he’ll realize that he has a little girl who would love to meet him one day. They’ll meet, he’ll fall in love and our world will be as perfectly chaotic as yours.” Missy rolled her eyes once again. “You’re dreaming. Mikhail will never leave his billion dollar empire and you know it.” She paused for a pregnant moment and then ventured into the topic she’d been trying to open up for a while. “Kristen, I think it’s time for you to consider a divorce,” she said, holding her breath as she waited for Kristen’s reaction. “We’ve all discussed it and we all agree,” she said, implying that her other sister, Debbie, and two brothers, Harmon and Greg, agreed with Missy’s comment. It wasn’t long in coming. Kristen heard the words and stilled, not a muscle moving in her body as she absorbed the implications of what her sister had said. Her lips wouldn’t move, couldn’t form the words as her heart ached at the idea of severing ties with Mikhail. “I’m not ready for that yet,” she finally was able to say, although her lips were numb and her stomach clenched painfully. Missy watched her younger sister carefully. “Well, at least that wasn’t an absolute ‘no’ so I think you’re making progress. But I’d like you to think about it. I know you still think about him a lot,” she said and put her hand on Kristen’s as her baby sister looked back, blinking the tears away, “but there are other men out there, men who could be a real father to Victoria and a husband to you.” “Victoria has a father.” “No, she doesn’t, Kristen. She has a distant male persona who she knows only through stories you tell her and news articles you cut out for her about his business interests. A real father is someone who is there for her when she falls off her bike, who will dry her eyes when she comes home after her first bad date, and who will be cheering for her in the audience when she’s up on a stage performing for the first time. Right now, Mikhail doesn’t appear to want any of that. Meanwhile, you’re here and the men around you are panting after you, waiting for any small sign of encouragement before they might dredge up a bit of courage to ask you out.” Kristen’s eyes snapped over to her sister’s. “What men?” Missy laughed. “Are you kidding? Tom over at the hardware store has been lusting after you for the past year. George from the grocery store purposely stocks the produce aisle at the same time you shop each week just so he can say hello and there are at least five other guys who have joined the church so they can see you on Sundays. Are you blind?” Kristen looked away and shrugged. “I’m not ready to date yet.” “I can see that. But you’re going to be some day. And that day is going to come when you realize that Mikhail has cut you out of his life. If he’d wanted any kind of relationship, even a long distance one with his daughter, he would have shown it now after three years. Her third birthday is next week. Do you really think he’s going to show up?” “Of course not. He’s got that big thing in Tokyo next week.” “I bet you sent him an invitation anyway, didn’t you?” Kristen sighed. “Yes. Okay, you’ve made your point.” She was quiet for a long moment. “I’ll think about it. Okay?” Missy put her arm around Kristen and gave her a quick hug. “I’m not trying to be the mean one here. I’m just the messenger.” She paused for a long moment before saying, “We all think you should move on.” She thought about that and her hurt eyes looked back at her friend and sister. “Then you’ve all been talking about me?” Missy nodded. “Of course we have. That’s what families do. We talk and harp and horrify until we get our way, then we admonish you for following our advice and messing up your life by not following your own instincts. We’re good at that,” she said and grinned, unashamed. Kristen burst out laughing and shook her head. “You’re incorrigible. “ “You betcha!” she said and put her arm around sister’s shoulders, hugging her gently. “So how about if we get this brood back to the house for lunch before they start to lose their minds from too much fresh air?” Kristen sighed and stood up. “I’m with you. Just let me run this over to the mail box. Can you watch Tory for just a moment?” Missy rolled her eyes, but walked over to the slide where Victoria had just slid down, landing on the soft mulch and rolling onto her tummy so she could race back around for another trip down the slide. Missy almost caught her niece but the little girl was much too fast and didn’t want to waste time brushing off the mulch that now coated her tummy, afraid she wouldn’t have another turn at the slide. Thirty minutes later, seven kids were settled around Missy’s kitchen table. Her three were leading the way while their older brother’s two were settling the younger ones into their chairs and their sister’s only child to date was sitting in a high chair next to Victoria. Victoria watched with a giggle as they all dug into the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches Missy placed in front of them. The other adults were off grocery shopping or doing errands while Missy and Kristen took care of the kids. They rotated each week having a Saturday morning off unless there were sports activities and even then, most of the clan showed up for those to cheer on their cousin, nieces or nephews. As Kristen poured milk for all seven kids, she grabbed a peanut butter and jelly triangle herself, hungry after having skipped breakfast this morning in order to get all the invitations finalized for Victoria’s birthday party. It was tough work being a single mom but she wouldn’t trade a single moment with Victoria, loving her daughter so much it almost hurt at times. And if the nights were cold and lonely, she just threw on another blanket and grabbed the extra pillow from the opposite side of the bed to snuggle up to at night. She laughed as Missy placed a tray of sliced apples on the table and the older kids begged for potato chips instead, saying they were too old to be eating baby food like apples. Missy shrugged her shoulders at that argument and simply put extra apples on Ethan’s plate, her oldest that was turning ten this winter. Ethan didn’t blink an eye at the extra fruit but when Jennifer, his younger sister by three years turned to whisper in her cousin’s ear, Ethan slyly placed the fruit on her plate. When Jennifer turned back, she noticed the fruit and looked confused, but almost immediately knew who the culprit was. Missy and Kristen watched as the fruit was snuck around to the various plates, all the kids snickering about how slick they were to get rid of it. Meanwhile, Victoria happily ate her own apple chunks that had been cut up so she wouldn’t choke on them, oblivious to the older kids’ machinations. All seven kids were settled into Missy’s play room a few hours later when Harmon and Laura showed up. There was a great deal of chaos as they rounded up their kids, plans were made for a pizza get together for the following night and then they were off. It was easier for Kristen to round up Victoria since her daughter was more than ready for her afternoon nap, happily clinging to her mother’s arms as she snuggled down, already asleep as she was strapped into her car seat. Kristen didn’t pick up the phone that night when it rang, preferring to spend a quiet night reading with Victoria, playing games on the floor and having a tea party with her stuffed animals. But once Victoria was settled in for the night, Kristen pulled her laptop closer and did what she did every night, surfing the internet for anything relating to Mikhail that would give her the smallest connection to the man who had turned her world upside down from the moment she’d met him. She sighed as she pushed the computer away and turned on the television to watch the news, feeling foolish for wanting such a vicarious connection to a man who obviously didn’t want anything to do with her or the beautiful daughter they’d created together. She thought about that first night and wondered, if she knew now what would happen, would she do it all over again? She smiled into the unseeing television for thinking such a ridiculous thought. Mikhail had seen her across the room at a corporate party and from that moment on, there had been no stopping him. That night had been magical, she thought. The Tycoon’s Tender Triumph Chapter 1 Chloe slipped out of the comfortable sedan nervously, forcing a smile to her face as David came around to help her out. “Dinner was very nice,” she said anxiously and glanced up at her apartment, feeling the cold air on her cheeks and ignoring the scent of garlic and onions on David’s breath. Was there any way at all to escape the next few awkward hours? She cared for David but she just wasn’t in the mood to be with him. The thought struck her that, recently, she rarely wanted to be alone with him because of the increasing pressure she felt to take their relationship to the next level. As she pulled the heavy apartment gate open so they could both walk through, she realized that she didn’t particularly like kissing David. What was wrong with her? He was an attractive guy. All her friends in the office envied her whenever he came to take her out to lunch. His blond, blue eyed good looks combined with a great smile made the other women sigh whenever he tossed one of his winks their way. So why didn’t his gentle touch make her heart race? Why couldn’t she be even slightly attracted to him? Why, why why? She hated this! It wasn’t fair that one man from her past could affect her so dramatically, leaving all other men mere shadows of his memory. Would it be like this forever? Would she always be comparing her current boyfriend to that one man who had loomed so large throughout her childhood? Or was it just lately? It was probably just those irritating letters, she thought, pressing the button on the elevator more firmly than she needed to. “Ouch!” she gasped, looking down at her finger and groaning when she’d hit the button so hard she’d broken her fingernail. David took her hand in his and kissed the end of her finger. It was a sweet gesture, but because it was David, the touch left her unmoved and feeling guilty because of it. In an effort to get more in the spirit of the night, she smiled engagingly up at David. She cringed only slightly when she saw his eyes flare with excitement but she managed not to step backward. He put an arm around her waist and pulled her closer as the elevator rose through the various floors. “You look beautiful tonight,” he said softly and took her hand to lead her into the hallway once the doors opened up. Chloe sighed heavily. Maybe tonight would be different, she thought sadly. He certainly seemed to be different tonight. “Are you warm enough?” he asked when they reached her floor and she shivered slightly. He wrapped his arm around her but Chloe couldn’t help but feel awkward with his affection. “I’m fine,” she replied, but couldn’t look in his eyes. He was going to kiss her, she thought sadly. And it would be yet another disappointment. Chloe walked beside him down the hallway to her apartment, wishing things were different. She desperately wished she’d never met that other one, hadn’t seen him struggling to make his way in the world and grown to respect him so much, to admire his determination and intelligence. No man could match him and she should just leave him in the past and get on with her life. Sam Marchant was not the man for her and she needed to get over her silly infatuation with him. Who was she kidding? All other men looked anemic compared to Sam. Unlocking her door with more force than was necessary, she pushed that man’s physique out of her mind and forced herself to focus on David. Sam was nothing to her. And never had been. Just because they’d shared a few dinners while she was in college, one every few months when he flew into town, that didn’t mean that she was ruined for other men. So the evenings had been wonderful, leaving her knees weak and her heart pounding with her infatuation. It had also hurt horribly when she’d seen the society papers showing him with another woman the following night. Every time, no matter where she was in the world, from the time she turned eighteen he’d called her up and invited her to dinner. At first, those nights had been magical. He was so witty, so fun to be with and amazingly handsome with his dark hair, tall, powerful stature and a five o’clock shadow no matter what time of the day it was. She’d always been proud to be on his arm. But when she’d realized the pattern, that the second night he was in town he’d always go somewhere more glamorous with a stunningly gorgeous woman on his arm, clinging to him and usually smiling up at his handsome face just as the camera captured their entrance or exit, she started refusing his invitations. She’d gotten smart enough not to put herself in a position to be hurt by his betrayal. It wasn’t even a true betrayal, which almost hurt more, because he would always preface every invitation with the comment that he wanted to check up on her for her dad. In the beginning, she’d assumed the excuse was just that, an excuse to see her. But when she’d consistently read about his exploits the next night, she had to accept that it wasn’t an excuse. Sam really thought of her as a kid no matter how many activities she joined or classes she took, and Sam really was just checking up on her. He would never see her as an adult woman, someone he might consider in a more romantic way. Chloe was destined to remain in the “kid sister” category to Sam. A few years ago, she stopped accepting his invitations, ignoring the stunned silence when she explained that she was too busy, or too tired or whatever popped into her mind. And when that became too hard, she simply stopped answering his calls, stopped returning them and ignored her father’s comments that she should check in with him “because Sam cared” about her. It was better all around when she cut off communication. A heart could only take so much, she told herself. And now he was on her mind more, popping into her dreams, making her inefficient at work because she found herself thinking about him, wondering how he was and if he was still as successful as he’d been before she’d gone off to college. It was only because of the phone calls and letters that she’d been thinking of him lately. As she opened her door, she quickly glanced down at the mail littering her doorway and cringed when she saw yet another letter with that bold, powerful scrawl. Glancing at her voice mail, sure enough, she noticed the red light was blinking. Chloe ignored it for the moment, turning back to David and smiling. “I’ll make some coffee,” she suggested and slipped into the kitchen, depositing her meager stack of mail onto the small kitchen table that took up half the space in the tiny area. “Do you want decaf or are you working again tonight and need the full force kind?” she asked, hiding her face in the fridge, afraid that he might see the anger in her eyes. Those letters did it to her every time, she thought furiously. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? She didn’t understand why he was calling her. Their only connection, her father, was firmly ensconced in his cottage style house on the edge of Sam’s property. She knew they were friends but that didn’t make Sam her friend. As a kid, she had idolized Sam, had followed him around like a puppy every summer while she tried to learn anything there was to know about horses and was always impressed when she came back each summer to see more progress on his ranch. He’d done well over the years and she’d considered him a very good friend when she visited her father each summer. Until the dinners he’d taken her out to while she was away at college. The pictures of his lady loves in the newspapers the following nights also helped her get a grip on her rampaging infatuation she thought miserably, pulling cream out of the refrigerator since she knew David liked his coffee more brown than black. Turning around, she almost dropped the cream when she saw what he was holding. “What are you doing?” she gasped, seeing him with the letters in his soft hands. All six of them. “Why would you be getting letters from Sam Marchant?” he asked, a confused look on his face as he counted the unopened envelopes. “Sam is my father’s neighbor,” she explained and turned away to dump coffee grounds in the coffee maker. “I have no idea what he wants.” David hesitated a moment as he looked down at the address on the envelopes. “There’s a Sam Marchant that owns half of Texas as well as probably five other states. He’s into just about every different kind of business around. Surely these letters aren’t from the same guy,” he stated, then his eyes glanced at the Texas return address and his expression became perplexed. And wary. “Are we talking about the same Sam Marchant?” he asked, almost whispering the name as if Sam might hear him from thousands of miles away. Chloe gritted her teeth, her brown eyes sparkling with frustration. “Why does everyone refer to him in that manner? It isn’t like he’s royalty or anything like that.” David chuckled. “He might as well be. He’s one of the richest men in the world.” David was shaking his head. “And why would he be sending you a letter he wrote personally? A man like that probably has dozens of secretaries to do all of his administrative work.” Chloe shrugged, pretending like talking about Sam didn’t make her stomach clench with fear and frustration. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?” He raised his eyebrows at her defensive response but she didn’t see that, since she was concentrating on watching the coffee drip out of the coffee maker. “Why haven’t you opened the letters?” She tossed the spoon into the sink, cringing when it made a loud noise in the small apartment. “Because I don’t like him. Whatever he has to say, he can…” she struggled to find words that wouldn’t be too revealing. “Well, I just don’t like him.” David laughed but she could see the surprise in his face. “What’s not to like? From what the papers say, he’s wealthy beyond description, charming, the press are always quoting him with his humorous little quips and,” he took on a teasing voice as he said, “some women might think he’s handsome.” “I don’t,” she said adamantly, then cringed slightly when she realized she might have been too loud in her refusal. “His hair is too dark, he’s irritatingly tall and he throws his weight around like he’s some sort of…” she struggled to find the right word, “jerk,” she finished lamely. Chloe really didn’t want to talk about him. “As for his wealth, I think it’s a little bit crass to wonder about someone’s net worth, don’t you think? Does he own half of Texas? Who knows? Probably half of the country but I’m not interested in keeping track of him or his material assets.” David wasn’t relenting on the subject. “How can he be your father’s next door neighbor? Doesn’t he run businesses all over the world?” She couldn’t get him off the subject of the one person she hated talking about more than anyone else in the world. “David, I have no idea what he does or why he does it. Remember, I only lived in Texas during my summer breaks. All the rest of the time, I lived with my mom in Boston. My mom and dad never spoke after I was three years old, only communicating through lawyers. So what is in those letters, I have no idea. Nor will I ever know because I don’t need to read them. I’m not interested.” David was obviously not convinced about the pointlessness of those letters. “Yeah, but Chloe, he sent them personally. I would think that one of the richest men in the world sending you something like that would arouse mild curiosity.” She turned back from him to pull two cups out of the cabinet. “Nope. I don’t care about him. I don’t trust him.” David choked on his response. “Don’t trust him?” he parroted. “How can you not trust him? What on earth could be untrustworthy about the man? He’s a financial genius. He made billionaire status about ten years ago from nothing,” he explained, obviously in awe of the man. “Newspapers describe him as some kind of king of the financial jungle. He consults with governments before he moves his money because of the impact those kinds of changes could potentially make on their economies.” “Again,” she said, becoming irritated with the subject, “what does this have to do with me?” she asked. David just looked at her as if she’d grown a second and third head. He was so obviously horrified that she almost laughed. Almost. If it had been any other subject, she would have but Sam Marchant was not an amusing subject. “David, can we get back to our evening?” she coaxed, pouring him a cup of coffee with cream, just the way he liked it. “I don’t think anything in those letters is important enough to ruin our night together.” She led him over to the love seat, a sofa being too large to fit in her tiny apartment. He allowed her to seat him, then turned to face her. “You’re right,” he said, a touch nervously. He took her coffee cup and placed it on the small table. Taking her hands in his, he put them on his shoulders. Chloe watched with detached interest as David positioned her exactly as he wanted her. His head then slowly bent towards hers, his lips touching hers tentatively. When she didn’t pull back, he increased the pressure, caressing her lips with a practiced touch. Nothing, she thought to herself. She felt no excitement, no joy. Nothing at all. Chloe opened her mouth, thinking that perhaps she just needed a more intensified version of his kiss. Her tongue touched his gently and his reaction was instantaneous. He groaned and pushed her backwards, his mouth pressing against hers, his tongue searching and exploring. She tried to get into the kiss. She closed her eyes and desperately tried to get into the spirit of the moment. But all she felt was a mild irritation that his tongue was inside her mouth. In desperation, she increased the pressure, pushing her body against his and almost jerked back when she felt his erection against her body. She wasn’t scared of it, she just didn’t want to encourage him in that way. But he noticed her reaction and pulled away slightly, moving his mouth to her neck. “Don’t be afraid, Chloe,” he groaned against her skin while she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. “It’s just natural. We’ve been seeing each other for three months now and all you’ve allowed is a gentle kiss,” he said, laughing almost to himself. “The fact that you’re letting me touch you now makes me feel as if you’re ready for the next step,” he said, his hand moving from her back to her stomach, then slightly higher. Reaching up, she pulled his hand away from its obvious path towards her breast, but didn’t stop his mouth. Instead, she pressed harder, willing herself to feel something, to stop thinking and just let go. When the knock sounded on her door, she almost sighed with relief. David sat up and looked around, dazed. “Who would be coming for a visit at this time of night?” he asked, frustration obvious in his glare as he pulled himself up to a sitting position. Something about the impatient knock made Chloe wary. It couldn’t possibly be….could it? Scoffing at her own silliness, she stood up and started walking to the door to answer it. It was just that they had been talking about Sam that he was on her mind. He wasn’t standing beyond the door waiting for her, she mentally chided herself. He wouldn’t fly all this way. The man was known for living on his ranch and rarely leaving it, forcing the rest of the world to come to him. “It’s probably just Suzanne. She had a hot date tonight and probably wants to share,” Chloe forced herself to laugh. She was relieved to be out of his embrace but didn’t want him to know that. Wishing it were so wouldn’t make it, she told herself. If the past fifteen minutes had convinced her of anything, she accepted that she’d have to break up with David. He was too nice to waste his time on her when she didn’t feel anything other than mild friendship toward him. She had to be fair and let him go out and find someone that could make him happy and return his feelings. “Well, get rid of her so we can get back to our hot date,” he teased as her hand settled on her door handle. Chloe glanced back at him, wondering if he could really be completely unaware of her lack of response to his kisses. When he wiggled his eyebrows at her, she knew that he was oblivious. Astonishingly, he had no idea that she felt nothing when he kissed her. Her distraction over his comments made her forget to check through the peep hole before opening the door. If she had, she would never have opened it. As it was, she stood there, staring at the tall man blocking out the hallway lights with his enormous size. Sam Marchant was here? In New York? What on earth? She closed her eyes and opened them again, hoping he would simply disappear. But he didn’t. In fact, one dark eyebrow went up in amusement at her attempt and that’s when Chloe knew he was real. “Are you going to invite me in?” his deep voice asked. Instead of waiting, he simply pushed his way through the door, making Chloe plaster herself against the wall as he passed by since there wasn’t enough space in the tiny hallway. “What are you doing here?” she breathed, following behind him, her mind unable to figure out a way to circumvent his invasion into her precious sanctuary. Her only thought was to karate chop him somehow that would knock him out, then she could drag him to the door and kick it shut, with him on the other side. The only problem with that little scenario was that, number one, she didn’t know karate. And number two, if he fell onto the floor, he’d still be there when he woke up because the man was just too huge for her to drag. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder and he had muscles everywhere, adding bulk to his height. Not an ounce of fat, she noted silently. The man definitely kept in shape. She arrived just in time for David to be rising from the love seat, shock on his face as he registered who was now in front of him. “Sam Marchant?” David said, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “Evenin’,” Sam said, his Texas drawl making the word come out more lyrical than normal. He stuck out his hand. “And you are?” Sam asked. Chloe was confused. Was that hostility in Sam’s voice? Impossible, she told herself as she snuck around to stand beside David, wanting to show Sam that she’d moved on and he had no business coming here. “Good grief,” David was saying, shaking Sam’s hand with embarrassing enthusiasm. “Chloe and I were just talking about you earlier.” Sam looked down at Chloe, his expression unreadable. “Is that right?” he asked when she started squirming under his intense gaze. “What was the conversation about?” he asked. “The letters,” David said, pointing lamely towards the counter where they were now neatly stacked. “Nothing,” Chloe said at the same time, hoping to find out what Sam wanted and get him out of her apartment. She’d always thought it was tiny but with Sam in it, his broad shoulders and enormous height seemed to take up all the remaining space. He overwhelmed her with his presence and made her feel uncomfortable, irritated. “Sam, what can I do for you? I know you’re extremely busy and probably have to get back to Texas quickly, don’t you?” “We have business to discuss.” He glanced at David and continued, “Privately.” Chloe hated the way his voice felt on her skin. It was like liquid chocolate, melting and taking her breath away. Shaking her head, she said, “Sam, I don’t know what it is, but David and I have no secrets from each other.” Sam’s gaze slid away from hers and focused on David who quickly got the message. “Um…Chloe,” he said, obviously nervous of Sam’s intimidating gaze, not to mention the seemingly threatening body language, “I’ll just call you tomorrow.” He quickly picked up his coat from the chair where he’d thrown in earlier. “You obviously have things to discuss and I’ll just be in the way.” He bent down to peck her cheek, then hurried out the door. As soon as the door closed, Sam pulled off his coat, then turned to face her, his arms crossed over his massive chest. “You’ve been ignoring me, Chloe,” he said. His voice was calm, soft even, but she heard the note of steel in his tone. He was reprimanding her and she bristled at the implication. “Yes. I have,” she said, and because she needed something to do with her hands, she picked up the two cups of barely touched coffee and carried them to the kitchen, dumping the contents down the sink. “Why?” he asked. She shrugged, not willing to turn back to face him so she dumped the coffee from the pot down the drain as well, hoping he’d get the message that he wasn’t welcome here. “You didn’t read any of my letters,” he said and it was a statement, not a question. Chloe then realized that David had probably left the letters on the counter instead of tucked into her stack of papers she kept on the corner. Glancing behind her, sure enough, Sam had all of his unopened letters in his large, dark hand. Trying to feign indifference, she shrugged her shoulders. “I haven’t gotten around to them yet. Are they important?” “And my phone calls?” he asked, pressing the button on her answering machine. Instantly, his voice came through the speakers and Chloe almost groaned as she heard his voice explain that he’d be coming into town to talk with her. If she’d only listened to his message, she could have been gone tonight. And all the other times he tried to contact her. Accepting defeat, she leaned back against the kitchen sink and crossed her arms over her chest. She couldn’t quite force herself to look at his face, so she let her eyes rest on his chin. “Okay, so I haven’t opened the mail and I haven’t listened to your messages. I know it was rude but I didn’t think there was anything important enough to bother. I spoke to my father two weeks ago and he’s fine,” she said, irritated at the lump that formed in her throat at how much she missed him, “so there’s really nothing more for us to discuss.” “Except that he’s not fine as of ten days ago. He fell off the roof of his stable and broke his leg,” he said casually. “Go pack a bag, Chloe. My plane is standing by and you’re coming with me.” “What?” she squeaked, her body instantly tense, her mind terrified of the words he’d just spoken. “Why didn’t he call me and say something? I should have been there. Is he okay now? What was he doing on the roof?” she demanded. His face was completely devoid of humor as she squirmed under his direct, intense gaze. “He’s fine now but he couldn’t get to a phone for a long time so he was out in the elements. I went over to talk with him about something the afternoon it happened but he’d already been on the ground for several hours out in the rain.” That stunned her. “No!” she denied, already feeling horribly guilty for not answering his calls now. Why hadn’t her father called her himself? He should have let her know! Chloe couldn’t believe her ears. She felt as if she were in some sort of dream world with a wicked, teasing twist. “Of course I’ll come back to take care of him. Why didn’t he call and tell me himself?” “Because he didn’t want you to worry. You’re father has a great deal of pride and he doesn’t want to rely on me to get him through this. I owe him though so I’m not going to let anything happen to him.” “Does he have any horses housed in the stable right now?” “Yes. And you’d know that if you’d just opened my letters.” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Horses. She loved riding. Besides being with her father and seeing Sam each summer, riding the horses he’d raised had been the best part of her summers with him in Texas. She’d go out early each morning and ride through the plains, watching the sun rise as she cantered along the tall, early summer grasses that quickly faded to crackling straw by the end of the summer. “He really has some horses to ride at his ranch?” she asked, a smile breaking out on her face as the news broke through her disbelief. Sam’s arms crossed over his chest once again and, instead of answering her, he simply raised his dark eyebrow as if to say that she shouldn’t ever question his word. Sam watched as Chloe came to terms with the fact that she now had a great deal of responsibility. Now he just had to get her back to Texas and get her settled. Getting her there wouldn’t be a problem, he thought. Keeping her there…well, that’s going to be the trick. The Sheik’s Mysterious Mistress Chapter 1 Dana stared at the elderly chief of staff with growing horror. “But….I really don’t want to be promoted,” she said through stiff lips that could barely move from the fear caving in on her, the metallic taste of terror overwhelming the sandalwood and strong coffee scents that normally permeated this man’s office. “I’m perfectly happy in my current role.” Even the normal low hum off office noises from the surrounding employees faded as the blood pounded through her brain, blocking out everything but the panic. This was really bad. Her current position as an office assistant was perfect, keeping her in the background and giving her the anonymity she craved, a state of being she hadn’t had in a long time and something she desperately needed. Forget the extra pay, Dana thought anxiously. She wanted to be invisible. She needed to be just a face in the crowd that no one noticed, no one looked at twice. Her assistant’s position was challenging, interesting and, what was more important, it didn’t give her any visibility. Being promoted to a senior assistant’s role was a much more obvious position. Because of the previous year, being noticed meant danger, something she’d traveled halfway around the world to avoid. She wasn’t going to give it up without a fight. Unfortunately, the chief of staff wasn’t a man one could argue with. He laid down the rules and the rest of the staff followed without question. That had been fine before but she had to really think hard to come up with a good reason to not accept that promotion. “I’m really not qualified for this role, sir. There are so many people more deserving of this promotion that…” Omar Suleiman, the Sheik of Odar’s Chief of Staff, interrupted her impatiently, waving his hand in front of him as if the conversation were over. He’d made his decision and he rarely allowed arguments, much less discussion from office personnel. “You’ve earned it. Your work is excellent, you’re attention to detail has been noticed not to mention your fluency in Arabic, English and French, an important asset to His Highness. The role comes with a significant increase in salary, of course, not to mention prestige and a great deal of travel.” Her head was spinning, and not from excitement but from the overwhelming urge to run and hide. “What happened to Mr. Kingsley? He’s been doing this job for the past twenty years. I thought he was happy in the role.” “He has done an excellent job for the kingdom. But he has requested retirement and since he is now over seventy years old, we have granted this request.” This was said as if to inform Dana that she too would be expected to remain in the role until well after her expected retirement. Her mind swam with the various possibilities or arguments against this promotion, anything that would get her out of this role. “I really don’t think….” Omar’s eyebrows went down in irritation at her continued resistance to his plan. “Enough,” he said emphatically. “I know this is a bit much for you, but you will take the role if His Highness agrees that you fit the requirements. And you will continue to do an excellent job because I believe it is in your nature to be meticulous in your responsibilities. If you have any questions about anything that comes up, you may come directly to me for assistance.” He stood up from behind his desk, his long, white robes flowing behind him. “Come with me,” he ordered and walked out of the well appointed office, expecting Dana to simply follow because he’d ordered it. And of course, she followed. One simply didn’t ignore the sheik’s chief of staff. That was, until he started to lead her into the sheik’s office. “Why would we be going in there?” she asked, her voice choked and she hesitated before entering the room where decisions were made that could change the economy of massive countries. She peered inside, half expecting to see….well, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Maybe a throne or perhaps even a group of people bowing down in front of an all powerful being. But it certainly wasn’t an innocuous office setup. Since the office was empty except for Omar, she entered and looked around, amazed at how gorgeous the office was. There were tall windows that let in sunshine and bookcases along one wall that went from the floor to the ceiling with a ladder that swung along a rail so a person could select books on any shelf. The furniture was dark and heavy, very masculine but it fit the man who ruled this oil rich, powerful country. She’d seen the sheik many times of course. Who hadn’t? He was one of those men that women did internet searches on just to gaze at his rugged, handsome looks. She’d never seen him close up though. He was much too powerful for anyone at her level to get close to but she knew him to be tall, was rumored to be charming and he worked out regularly with his guards, although she had no idea what that meant. Perhaps they all just competed to see who could lift the most weights or maybe they battled each other until someone was bloody. She didn’t care, and didn’t want to know. All she wanted was her tiny office in the back hallway where she could do her work and remain safe and unnoticed. “His Highness will be with you shortly,” the chief of staff said, before walking out of the office. Dana stared after him for a long, terrified moment before she started pacing. Her mind worked frantically, trying to come up with reasons why she wasn’t the best candidate for the position. She just couldn’t risk having that kind of spotlight but she also didn’t want to leave her current role. She loved her job, but more importantly, she loved the security of the palace. No one was getting to her while she worked within the palace walls, especially not to see a lowly secretary. The role of assistant to the sheik would require her to work outside the palace much more often, to be at his side during travel, official visits and various other events. Possibly even social events that would be publicized although maybe she could remain hidden in the shadows during those functions. Dana had no idea what the protocol might be and the lack of knowledge made her even more frantic. No, she’d just have to be brilliant and come up with a fabulous, valid, irrefutable reason for why she was completely inappropriate for the job. She spotted a pad of paper on the corner of the desk and picked it up, selecting a pen as well. She paced back and forth in the office as she thought about different reasons why she wasn’t right, writing them down in a list. Some of the ideas were ridiculous and she crossed them out, but others were very valid. Of course, she didn’t write the main reason. No, that one would have to remain a secret since it might get her fired from her current role and probably tossed out of the country. Sheik Hassan Bin Faisir-Al-Takar watched in fascination as the lovely woman walked back and forth across his office, mumbling something under her breath before scribbling on his note pad. She also had his favorite pen but since she looked so earnest in whatever she was trying to think of, he didn’t want to disturb her. Besides, she was definitely a sight to behold. She was wearing a wrap around dress that hugged her in all the right places and he enjoyed it both when she was heading towards him so he could see her lush breasts that tapered to a tiny waist, or when she was walking away from him and he was presented with her cute derriere that moved underneath the fabric with each step she took, drawing his eyes to the enticing flesh underneath. He wondered how long her brown hair was since it was contained in a neat chignon at the base of her neck but her eyes were a warm, sexy brown that seemed to dance with whatever was on her mind. This woman was so intent, she didn’t even realize that he was there, leaning in the doorway watching her. But after several moments, his curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to know what could possibly be troubling a woman as lovely as this little one. He knew this was the woman he was supposed to be interviewing for the role of his executive assistant but she was completely inappropriate for the role. Her porcelain skin and her rosebud lips, not to mention that knockout figure, meant she would be too much of a distraction. Beautiful women were lovely to have around, but not during business hours. The work of the kingdom had to be accomplished and with this one flitting in and out of his office and meetings, he would be hard pressed to concentrate. Omar must be getting old if he thought this little beauty was the perfect candidate. Dana turned around, trying to come up with at least three more reasons why she wouldn’t work out when she spotted the man standing in the doorway. Goodness he was tall! And getting taller as he came closer! The top of her head barely reached his shoulder and she shrank back slightly as he approached. At his dark, intent look, she cringed slightly, intimidated despite herself. When he was a few feet away, she remembered palace protocol and dropped her pen and note pad while she dipped into a deep curtsy. “Your Highness!” she gasped and looked down at the ground, wondering how one was supposed to gracefully curtsy and then pick up a stolen pen and pad of paper without looking like a fool. Probably too late for that, she thought with an inward grimace. He smiled slightly at her genuflection, done with enthusiasm, but very little practice. “You’re here to interview for the role of my executive assistant?” he stated, moving to a seating area away from his desk that contained two large, brown, leather chairs and an enormous brown, leather sofa. “Please, have a seat and let’s discuss the possibilities.” Dana smiled gratefully, glad that he wasn’t going to sit behind that massive desk and look even more daunting. She thought it would be less intimidating if they were sitting away from a symbol of his absolute power in this country. But as they sat down, his long, muscular legs coming much too close to her own, she realized that she’d been wrong. This man wasn’t intimidating because of some external symbol of power. He was just terrifying as a man! As his intelligent, grey eyes looked at her, she had to glance away or get lost in their sensuous depths. She’d always thought of those lines as a crock when she’d read them in books but now she understood what it meant when a man had “bedroom eyes”. She literally couldn’t focus when he looked at her like that and once again, the idea of running and hiding someplace was very tempting but for completely different reasons now. First things first, she reminded herself. Get her old job back and then she could worry about all these silly little feelings she had for a man she’d met thirty seconds ago. “About the job,” she started to say, “I think that your chief of staff might have been a bit too hasty about submitting my name for the position.” “Why do you say that?” he asked, already confused by her approach. He’d been expecting her to immediately begin listing all of her experience and how she would be perfect for the role. After which, he would have to gently tell her that she wouldn’t work out, but that he would see what other options might suit her better within the palace. The opposite approach to this interview certainly had his attention. “Well, for one, I’m definitely too young and inexperienced. I certainly don’t have all the skills necessary to be your executive assistant.” He tried not to show the surprise on his face as she stated the first thing that had come to his mind. But with her comment, he was somehow forced to challenge her assertion. “It’s my understanding that you’ve already met all the skills requirements for this role and they’ve been amply demonstrated. Otherwise, Omar wouldn’t have suggested you for the position.” That stumped her. “I can’t imagine that my experience could surpass the skills of your last assistant. He’d been with you for years.” “You’ve been helping my previous assistant for the past six months, is that correct?” “Yes, but…” “So you have the requirements.” He stated that with emphasis and a slight shrug that told her he wasn’t going to argue her skill set any longer. “But….” She scrambled and looked down, focusing her mind to regroup and quickly go over the notes she’d scribbled minutes ago. “I don’t know palace protocol well enough. I could make some pretty horrible errors and offend someone. Even my curtsy is pretty pathetic and that’s just the beginning of my lack of knowledge.” He nodded his head, about to say something, but she stopped him again with what she considered another mark against her. “I don’t know all of the personnel who would be useful so if something needed to be done quickly, I might go to the wrong person to ask for help, thereby slowing down the efficiency of everyone in the office. The things you do for this country are much too important to be delayed simply because you have an assistant who asked the wrong person or question. Not to mention the security risks associated with asking someone a question that might be outside of their clearance area. The work you do is completely confidential and revealing something to the wrong person, even accidentally, could be a serious breach in security.” She was really getting into the swing of this, she thought. That last comment was on the fly, not from her notes, but it sounded really good. Hassan sat back, amused but trying to hide it. He’d never interviewed someone who was trying to dissuade him from hiring them. “Please continue.” She glanced down at her notes, looking very earnest and confident that she shouldn’t do the job. “I don’t know the first thing about diplomacy. You work with so many people and my honesty might slip out and ruin a plan you’ve been working hard to develop.” She realized that he was listening to her and not getting angry. Was she convincing him? “I really don’t get out much, I’m a horrible introvert and you need someone who is good around people, someone who prefers to be surrounded by others and gets energized by being around people. I actually avoid crowds, preferring a good book. Or even a not so good book,” she said with complete honesty and a grimace because most of the books she read were what she called “brain candy” and Dana was unapologetic about her reading preferences. “So all the parties and functions you need to attend, well, I’d be trying to get out of them as much as possible not to mention being unable to converse intelligently on the latest best seller or cerebral tome of which the media thinks is the next best mind game to success.” “Is there anything else?” “My language skills are only passable,” she explained lamely, worried about the amusement she was starting to detect in his voice and those damnable grey eyes that kept luring her out of her focus. “I’m pretty good in French and English and of course I can speak Arabic,” she admitted. “But other languages I struggle with.” Hassan nodded, paying more attention to her dancing brown eyes than her words, although he was still amused by her approach. “Anything else?” “Well…” she couldn’t think of anything else. Glancing down, she read through all of her notes and nothing else made sense. She glanced up at him, wishing this were true but it was all she could think of. “I don’t really like you.” Hassan was stunned at first. Then threw his head back and laughed, delighted with her refreshing attitude. Dana grimaced and thought quickly. “Okay, so it isn’t that I don’t really like you so much as I disagree with several of your policies. Number one is the fact that your country’s wealth is resting on the oil underneath your ground and that’s a fossil fuel that is changing the whole weather pattern of the earth and I’d much rather drive an electric vehicle than damage the environment any longer…” she knew she wasn’t getting through to him and her voice slowly faltered to an awkward halt. “You start immediately,” he said and stood up. “There are several meetings this afternoon. You will sit in on them and take notes. Talk to Omar about the other issues with the meetings and he’ll fill you in,” he replied. With that, he walked over to his desk, picking up several documents and handing them to her with instructions on what to do with each. Dana listened, stunned and horrified for several minutes before she realized that she should be writing down everything he was telling her. She’d already missed the first few instructions but scrambled quickly to turn things around, writing as fast as her fingers could move. Ten minutes later, she walked out of his office with her arms filled with files, contracts and instructions that she dumped onto her already crowded desk in her miniscule office. As she stood back and looked at everything, she was stunned that the man had so much to do. Okay, so he ran a country. Literally ran a country. But doesn’t he delegate anything? And why in the world had he hired her? Hadn’t he listened to anything she’d said? She was completely inappropriate for the job. Good grief, she’d more than convinced herself that she was an idiot so why hadn’t he even blinked at the problems she’d presented to him about her taking on the role. With a sigh, she started with what she thought were the highest priority items and worked her way through each, referencing his instructions over and over again, unsure what to do in several situations but since she couldn’t find anyone to ask, apparently everyone was in some important, private meeting, she was on her own. She’d have to catch him when he’s thinking more clearly and then maybe he would let her step back into her previous position. Dana did the best she could but knew that she was probably missing the mark on several issues. Lunch time came and went and she didn’t even realize that it was almost dinner time until Hassan came out of the meeting. With barely a nod in her direction, he disappeared once again into his office with his advisors and she clenched her teeth in an effort to not scream out that she hadn’t asked for, nor wanted, this job that was now making her stay late to get through all the worked he’d piled on top of her narrow shoulders. By nine o’clock that night she finished the last of his instructions. As she turned off her computer, she poked her head out of her office and looked at the other desks, wondering when everyone else had left the office. “You’re here very late,” Hassan said from the doorway to his office. He slowly walked down the hall until he was standing in front of her. “I hope you had dinner.” Dana glanced down at her watch and sighed, all her hunger suddenly appearing now that she wasn’t frantically trying to get the work accomplished. “I’ll grab something when I get home.” He pushed away from the doorway and shook his head. “One of the perks of this position is having the kitchen on speed dial.” He looked down at her phone and lifted the receiver, pressing a button. A moment later, he instructed that a sandwich be delivered immediately to her desk. She tried to protest, not wanting to hang out here any longer, especially if he was going to be here as well. All she wanted was to go home, curl up on her soft bed and fall asleep. She didn’t even care if she had dinner, because fatigue was her overwhelming issue right at the moment. “Tell me what you’ve accomplished today. Where are you on all the items we discussed this morning?” Dana picked up her notebook and glanced down at her notes, with all the additional scribbles she’d notated throughout the day and accepting that she wasn’t getting out of here very soon. She went through the issues, describing what she’d done for each. When she was finished, she took a deep breath and set her notepad back down on her desk, then glared back up at him, daring him to tell her she’d done something wrong after all that. She saw the surprise on his face but wasn’t sure what it indicated. “You finished everything from this morning?” She blinked, confused. “Of course.” He smiled slightly and shook his head. “The deadline for most of those items was the end of the week.” Her mouth dropped open, shocked at the news that she’d worked this hard for nothing. “Are you kidding me?” He laughed softly. “I never joke about work.” A knock on the door revealed a man with a tray and Dana’s mouth immediately started watering at the sight of food. “That looks delicious,” she sighed happily. The man set the tray on the desk and Dana ignored the gorgeous man standing there watching her eat. She was too hungry to care at this point. “Why didn’t you tell me that stuff didn’t need to be done by the end of today?” “You’ll start to understand the deadlines a bit more as you gain experience.” “In the meantime, I’m just going to have to guess?” “Or ask.” “Who was I supposed to ask? No one was here.” “You are my personal assistant now, Dana. Feel free to interrupt me for further guidance.” She watched him carefully, wondering where that interruption line would be drawn. Her cell phone rang and she glanced down at the number but didn’t recognize it. She tucked it back into her purse, then wrapped up the rest of the sandwich after eating only a few bites. “Thank you for dinner. That was delicious.” It really had been a crazy day and although the sandwich hadn’t filled her up yet, it at least pushed the hunger pains away until she could create some space between herself and this man who made her body tremble slightly. As she stood up, she was struck again by how tall the man was. She’d wear her highest heels tomorrow just so she could reach the top of his shoulder. She really hated feeling short. It made her feel somehow inadequate and powerless. “I’ll try very hard to do a good job.” “Even though you don’t like me.” She blushed and glanced down. “Okay, so maybe I don’t really know you and I admitted that it isn’t you that I disagree with but some of your policies.” She grimaced and shook her head again. “And maybe I’m just too tired to realize that this is one of those moments when I really shouldn’t speak out loud because I’m too tired and worn out and I’ll probably say something I shouldn’t. I apologize Your Highness. I was out of line.” He smiled, watching the soft pink blush stain her porcelain cheeks. “I’d like to hear what you disagree with besides burning fossil fuels. We’ll discuss those and other topics another time. You look exhausted from today’s efforts but I’m impressed that you finished an entire week’s worth of work in one day. Just goes to show that Omar was right in selecting you for the role,” he said and chuckled at her grimace as he started walking out the door. When her phone rang again, she glanced at the number and frowned, pressing the “ignore” button. It was the same number as before. She looked up nervously and stuffed her phone into her purse. “Boyfriend wondering why you are so late in coming home?” Hassan asked. Dana shook her head. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said and started walking down the hallway, hoping her new boss would drop the subject. Hassan had probably twenty things he needed to do, but instead of doing them, he followed her down the hallway, drawn to her on many levels and not simply because she was a beautiful woman with something mysterious hiding in her soft, brown eyes. “Why not?” She stepped around someone’s desk, pretending to be busy looking for something in her purse. “I was just promoted and my boss is a slave driver,” she joked. He didn’t laugh. “You’re a beautiful woman. I can’t believe that a man hasn’t captured your attention.” Another blush, she really wished she could stop doing that. If it were anyone else other than this man with his dark, dangerous eyes, she might be able to brush off the questions. But this man made her nervous, which made her mind clumsy. “Oh, I’ve dated in the past.” “Just not anyone special right now?” Hassan was both intellectually and personally intrigued that some man hadn’t already snatched up a woman with Dana’s spirit and beauty, not to mention her intelligence and integrity. “No. Definitely not,” she replied, thinking of all the men who were chasing her, unfortunately not for the reason she wanted. “I’d better get home. You start work pretty early each morning.” Hassan watched her leave, his eyes appreciating her slender waist and enticing bottom once again. There was just something about her that bothered him. He could tell she was hiding something, although what that was, he had no idea. He wasn’t concerned that she was doing something illegal or unethical. In order to work in the palace, all employees had to go through a rigorous background check so if there was a criminal or even questionable past, she never would have been considered for employment, much less allowed to enter the palace grounds. Shrugging away the mystery for now, he called the front gate. “Make sure Dana Miller is escorted home safely,” he said. Then as an afterthought, “She might not like the interference so make sure she’s unaware of the escort.” He had no idea why he’d done that. Employees and guests left the palace late all the time and he never ordered an escort for any of them. Why he’d chosen to do that for his new assistant was yet another mystery he was too tired to figure out at the moment. The Duke’s Willful Wife Chapter 1 Sasha picked up the paintbrush, her fingers shaking and her stomach churning with fear and anticipation. “I’m over him,” she whispered out loud, ignoring the cold mist that showed her breath as she took the step closer to the canvas. Dipping her brush into the first color, she braced herself and started the process, the first colors hitting the white canvas no longer a shock to her mind but still something she didn’t particularly enjoy. But since this whole process of painting this particular subject was physically painful for her, she ignored the starting sensation and concentrated on working through to get to the answer. There was no other way to do it, she told herself, but to dive right in and face the results. Being afraid of the answer wasn’t going to solve the problem and she wouldn’t know the truth until she started. Procrastinating wouldn’t give her the information she desperately needed. Impatiently, she pushed her long, brown hair out of her way, tucking it up on top of her head with the end of her paint brush, uncaring that a bit of paint smeared across her lovely cheekbone. She wore no makeup, but her soft, brown eyes and peaches and cream complexion were rarely viewed by anyone anymore. She went out each day for a long walk and she occasionally saw the others in the village, but the only daily care she took in her appearance was to remove her paint smock that covered her from neck to knee while she worked. She was unaware, and unconcerned if people questioned her appearance. At least that was the case over the past year. Classical music flowed around her as she worked on the painting. She didn’t stop for food, didn’t notice the light changing as the morning turned to afternoon, nor when the evening faded into night, and neither did she acknowledge the ache in her legs from standing all day. It was almost midnight before she put her paintbrush down and sighed in frustration. As she looked at the painting, her heart lurched, the truth staring at her from the eyes she’d just painted. The truth was irrevocable and no matter how many times she told herself that she didn’t, when she painted his face, she knew she was still in love with her husband. She sighed with the acceptance that she wasn’t yet over the man who had hurt her so deeply that even a year later, she still felt as if a hole had been torn out of her chest. Maintaining a stoic face while she worked, Sasha carefully cleaned her brushes and set them in the appropriate place in their holders to dry out, meticulously ensuring that they were immaculate and ready for her next project. When she was finished with her supplies, she wearily carried the canvas to the barn behind her tiny cottage and stored it with the others that she’d worked on recently. The paintings here were items she’d either started and hadn’t finished because she’d lost the inspiration, or that she didn’t want the world to see because they were too personal or not good enough. This one fell into all of those categories so she stacked it towards the back, pulling the heavy tarp over the stack to ensure dust and water didn’t get to it, and made sure that the moth balls were in place to deter some of the more curious animals from damaging any of the works. She might not be ready to sell or get rid of these efforts, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything to happen to them. Back in her cottage, she turned off the music, poured herself a glass of milk for dinner, then climbed into bed without bothering to change. Worn out jeans, flannel, tattered shirt and all, she just needed the warmth of the relative softness of her bed. And the pillows. She pulled them close, hugging one to her chest and the other tucked under her head. Not the same because the pillows didn’t emanate the same heat as his arms and chest and they were much too soft compared to his muscles that were more analogous to rocks than anything else, but close enough and they were all she had at the moment, she thought as the tears spilled down her cheeks. Tomorrow would be better, she promised herself. And she wouldn’t try again for another month. Long walks, maybe some different music and a new painting. Her mind went through all the rituals she’d discovered that would help her get through the day. One breath at a time, she sighed into the night. Just one breath, one moment, one step at a time. The following morning, she forced herself to fix some breakfast and eat it. It was only a soft boiled egg and whole wheat toast, but it was more than she’d eaten the whole previous day. A cup of tea warmed her up and she pulled her sneakers on for her morning walk. She pushed herself harder this time, walking around the pond, through the village, smiling and waving to the people she saw. She’d grown up in this small town so she knew just about everyone, but she didn’t socialize a great deal anymore. Ever since Dante and his accusations, his rejection of her, she hadn’t felt strong enough to be around other people. Soon though, she’d start accepting some of the invitations. She needed to get out more, to be with other people and stop acting like a miserable, old recluse. Her activities lately weren’t healthy and she needed to rejoin the world, to feel life again even if it might be painful at times. She knew she wasn’t ready to start dating again, but she needed to reconnect with her friends, especially her college friends. She missed Kallista and Dana terribly and she knew they worried about her. She e-mailed with them when she remembered to log into her account, but the communication was sporadic. Dana was married with a baby on the way and Kallista was doing well as a journalist. They both had stopped by over the past year to check in on her and she’d done a relatively good job of convincing them that she was okay. The banging on the door as she stepped through her back access startled her. Since the house was so small, she could see straight through from the back to her front entrance but the solid oak wouldn’t allow her to see through and discover who had invaded her space so unexpectedly. “Sasha! I’m here for the paintings. I know you’re here so don’t try and pretend otherwise,” the male voice said. Sasha’s body relaxed as she released a relieved laugh, then hurried to the front door. “Robert, you know I’d never pretend with you,” she said and hugged him enthusiastically. “What are you doing way out here in the country? I told you I’d bring the paintings to you Monday and I know you abhor leaving your precious city life and risk running into a leaf or, heaven forbid, a bug.” Sasha’s agent and friend stepped through the front door and took his favorite client into his arms, as much to greet her as so determine if she was taking care of herself. As his arms closed around her slender frame, he became worried that she wasn’t eating well. “I didn’t trust you to be on time and you know that’s a completely justified terror when it comes to you lately. Your sense of timeliness seems to have disappeared completely. Besides, Monday is too far in the future. I need the paintings this weekend.” He surveyed her face, noting the more pronounced cheekbones and prominent, brown eyes still filled with so much loneliness. Damn that man who had done this to her gentle soul! Sasha was one of those sweet, caring people who pushed spiders out of her house instead of stomping on them. How Dante Fuitello could do this to such a beautiful woman was beyond anything Robert could understand. Sasha pulled away, knowing that Robert would comment on her weight if he felt how much she’d lost in the past few weeks. And since there wasn’t a whole lot to lose in the first place, he wouldn’t be shy about mentioning her health, a subject that he brought up constantly it seemed. “I thought you had a full gallery.” She pulled him into her house, excited to see him but not sure why he’d come all this way instead of waiting for her to deliver the paintings she’d promised. His comment about being too slow was worrisome, only compounded by the fact that Robert was a city man, completely in tune with the rhythm of London and all the excitement available. He hated coming out to the country where she lived, considering it too “earthy”. “I did until I sold your last two yesterday.” He looked around the dark, dingy little cottage that had only four rooms, a number that was abhorrently tiny in his estimation. “You’re a wealthy woman and a famous artist now. Why are you still living in this hovel?” Sasha rolled her eyes at the comment he made about her humble dwelling each time he visited, horrified that anyone would live in a place that doesn’t have hardwood floors and twelve foot ceilings with strategically designed lighting to enhance one’s living space. “I love this hovel. Thank you very much for not disrespecting the hovel.” She moved into the galley style kitchen that was about the size of some people’s closet and put her battered tea kettle on one of the two burners of her ancient stove. With a flick of the lighter, a flame popped up under the kettle. Robert leaned against the rough, wooden door frame that looked like a termite had rejected it about a hundred years ago. “The condo next to mine is about to go on the market. I can tell my neighbor that you’re interested. Lots of light, plenty of room and it doesn’t smell like turpentine or burnt toast all the time.” He looked around disdainfully. “How in the world do you create such amazing masterpieces in this kind of light?” Sasha looked away, the memory of the most amazing place she’d ever painted coming to mind. This little cottage was the antithesis of that room with all the windows and natural light, the skylights that let in the sunshine no matter what time of the day. Unfortunately, with that wonderful room came a not-so-perfect existence. One she had tried, and failed, to endure. “This place is perfect for me. At least for now.” She still held out the hope that she’d get over that time in her life and be able to move on. “I only have three pictures ready for you unfortunately.” Robert rolled his eyes. “Do you have any life outside of painting?” he asked without sarcasm. For an artist of her caliber to produce three paintings in the last month, he suspected that she barely slept and did nothing other than paint. He also knew it was her way of working through her emotions, which had been severely tattered, but maybe if she got out a bit, she might recover more quickly. And for him to want an artist to slow down, which would mean less commissions for his bank account, that was genuine concern as Robert never really considered himself very selfless. But if she didn’t slow down, she was going to burn out and that also wouldn’t be good, for his bank account or his friendship with a woman who was truly special to him. Sasha looked up at him, distressed by his comment. “Am I too slow? I’m sorry….” She started to say but Robert interrupted her with a laugh. “Dear, three paintings from you is like money in the bank. I don’t know any other artist who can produce like you can so please, ignore my silly comments and understand that I’m absolutely thrilled with three paintings from you. I have some artists that work on one painting a year, and they don’t have half as much talent as you do. With all the emotion you put into your paintings, I don’t know how you get through the day. Your productivity concerns me, is all.” Sasha was relieved, not sure what the art world expected of her. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She could only paint what she felt at the speed at which she was feeling things. The past year had been a pretty emotional disaster for her so she’d been extremely prolific lately. But she hoped to be able to focus on only one painting per year at some point. Maybe when she wasn’t so centered on the past, she could…. Some day, she reassured herself. There will come a point in her life when she wouldn’t feel this kind of pain or betrayal. There had been joy at one point. That period in her work had been a completely different style, but it had lasted for only a short period of time. She knew others who viewed her work might see the emotions in her paintings, but she hoped that they didn’t understand them. Not completely at least. An hour later, she helped Robert carefully pack the paintings into his trunk, ensuring that they were cautiously stored so they wouldn’t be damaged, then waved goodbye to him as he drove back down the dusty, gravel road that was her driveway. He’d made her laugh this afternoon, which was a good thing. He was a delightful friend, even though she knew his motivation was more than a little mercenary. Robert gathered friends only to further his art business. Everyone had a purpose, either on the supply or demand side of the chain and he treated each person accordingly. Sasha knew this about him and still accepted his friendship, but was also relieved when he drove away after each visit, needing his interruptions but appreciating the stillness and peace of her hideaway even more after he’d left. Back inside, she put the kettle on to heat more water, her mind considering options for what she might paint next. Thoughts flitted through her mind and she considered and rejected some of them, storing others away. She was just about to pick up her sketch pad to work through some ideas when a strange noise in the distance distracted her. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was later than she thought. She hadn’t had lunch yet and it was already three o’clock in the afternoon. Placing her sketch pad back on the table, she told herself she’d take just a peek outside to find out what the odd sound was breaking the stillness of the early springtime afternoon. Then she’d make a sandwich and maybe even venture into the village to grab a cup of coffee, talk to some of her old friends a bit and make sure she stretched her social skills slightly. The noise was becoming louder and she tucked her sketch pad down between her overstuffed chair and her easel, glancing out the window. What she saw made her heart stop for a split second. Then her stomach dropped, followed immediately by the painful racing of her heart. A helicopter? There was only one reason a helicopter would be heading this way. The town was too quiet, too isolated for any other reason. Sure enough, a moment later, the helicopter hovered over the small field in front of her cottage, then slowly descended. Glancing around the tree line of her property, she noted there were already several men standing around the edge of her field, the bulges under their dark suits barely concealing the large weapons Sasha knew to be hidden underneath the deceptive material. As soon as the helicopter touched down, she watched in horror as the one man she’d prayed never to see again outside of a white fabric canvas stepped out, his long legs eating up the space between the powerful machine and her tiny, dilapidated cottage. He wore expensive sunglasses and a perfectly tailored, summer weight tan suit with a white shirt opened at the collar, but nothing could hide the power of this man. It was physically apparent both in the way he walked and the commanding way he approached the world and her house, not to mention the muscles that were ripped over his body from grueling daily workouts that a lesser man would collapse under. No suit could hide the power of that physique, she thought while her mind whirled frantically. As he approached her door with that intimidating stride, she wasn’t sure what to do. To let him into her house would mean that his whole demeanor would invade the private space she’d created, a space that was devoid of any memories of this man. To not let him in would be dangerous. Not that he would allow that though. When Dante Fuitello wanted in, everyone else needed to just step back. She’d never known him let anyone stand in his way. She had no idea what the consequences would be if someone dared to challenge him, because it simply was never done. At least she’d never seen or heard of it happening. And then he was there, standing in front of her house. The option of not letting him inside was gone and her whole body trembled with memories of their time together, of how passionate and wonderful he could be. And how brutally cold, impersonal and dispassionate he could turn. She’d experienced both sides and never wanted either extreme again. Her life was calm and, if not peaceful, at least it wasn’t disrupted by the angry words and horrible accusations that had been almost daily life with him. And the passion, she thought. Yes, there had been more passion than she thought was possible. Dante could bring her to the heights of heaven, but life with him could also be a living hell. Loving him was….difficult. The knock on the door was fast and reflected the confidence this man had that the world would react exactly as he demanded it would, and it didn’t matter if it was the stock market or a company, somehow the world complied and bowed to this man’s wishes. She couldn’t open the door. So many feelings were clogging her senses right now that her feet were rooted on the floor. There were no messages from her brain to her feet telling her to move. She simply stood in the middle of her small den, staring at the door. Sasha should have known that he’d just enter. Dante wasn’t the kind of man who waited for permission so when the initial knock didn’t provide the desired reaction, he simply opened the door and walked in. Why hadn’t she locked the door? Why hadn’t she hidden in her bedroom? Why hadn’t she run into the woods at the very first realization of a helicopter approaching? As he stepped into her house, he had to duck underneath the door frame because he was so tall. The house had been made over two hundred years ago at a time when people were shorter, but even by today’s standards Dante was huge. At six feet, three inches tall, he was at least half a head taller than most men. If that didn’t separate him out from the rest of the world, his black hair and black eyes, chiseled facial features that were normally devoid of any emotion except for the rare moments when he was mildly amused, would capture anyone’s attention. “What are you doing here?” she finally asked after they’d stood there watching each other for a long, awkward moment. Dante looked at the one woman who had gotten beneath his guard. The one person who had never bowed to his bidding, never reacted the way he expected. He was surprised at how angry he had become just by entering her world. He’d thought this would be a simple mission but seeing her standing in front of him, looking like the goddess he’d first glimpsed so long ago, his reaction was probably understandable. She’d lost a good deal of weight over the past year. She’d always been thin but now her jeans hung on her hips and the large shirt that was tied at her waist couldn’t cinch in enough. It was a man’s shirt anyway and on her delicate frame, it was about ten sizes too large. Eyes that had once danced with laughter and excitement over everything, were now large, brown saucers in a face that looked….haunted. She was pale, the only color in her face were those still beautiful, soulful, brown eyes. And he had no idea what she’d done with her hair. He suspected nothing at all which was a crime since this woman’s hair had been the softest, most luxurious thing he’d ever…. Dante forced his mind back to the problem. “I’ve tried calling you,” he said to break the silence. Sasha wasn’t sure how to respond. When she worked, she shut off her cell phone so if he’d tried to reach her, he would have gotten her voice mail and she hadn’t checked it yet. She tried to speak, but the words were stuck in her throat. She coughed and tore her hungry eyes away from him. “Would you like some tea?” she asked, manners coming to save her in this instance. She wasn’t sure what was the polite comment to make when one’s estranged husband walked through the door unexpectedly. There was no answer but she didn’t care. She moved into her tiny kitchen, needing to do something with her hands. She filled up the kettle and lit the burner, becoming more nervous as he prowled her cottage, looking at all the details. There wasn’t much to see. The furniture was sparse with only one large chair and an ottoman for reading, a side table and lamp, all of which were positioned for a body to obtain maximum heat from the now cold and blackened fireplace. There was an old, wooden bookshelf filled with various genres, but that was about it. Her dining room had been converted to her studio and that contained several lights to help her work, stacks of varying sized canvases, her easel and paints. There wasn’t a table and no chairs. The two windows and another fireplace were on the opposite wall, but the room wasn’t meant for guests, although he prowled through that space as well but didn’t look very interested, only mildly curious. Sasha pulled down two cups and fiddled with the bags of tea, busying herself until she got up the nerve to ask him why he had decided to break away from his business empire to visit her quaint little town. While they’d been married, the man had worked fourteen to eighteen hour days, sometimes seven days a week. He’d rarely taken the time to spend quiet days with her. At least that was the case when they’d returned to his home in Rome. The whole time he prowled her domain, she tried to work through in her mind why he was here. There had been no communication between the two of them, and even though she’d been expecting notice, she hadn’t received anything from him or his lawyers asking for a divorce. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from her hiding place and faced him, her chin going up defiantly. “Why did you come here?” she asked, angry that her voice quivered slightly, revealing how emotionally distraught she was with his presence. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “After the accusations you tossed at me the last time we were together, I’d rather hoped never to see you again.” “After the perfidy I discovered about you, I had resolved that very same thing.” “What you think you discovered. You’re too distrusting to know what you saw.” She snapped her mouth shut quickly. The last time they’d had this argument she’d sworn she would never defend herself against his callous words again. There was just something about this man that made her furious and defensive. He shrugged slightly. “I’m not going to rehash the same, tedious argument with you, Sasha.” She was relieved, because this wasn’t a dispute she could win and maintain her word to a friend. “Good. Then tell me why you’re here and get out of my house.” In her fantasy world, she lifted him up and tossed him out, just like she felt he’d done to her. He’d never touched her in anger, but his words had hurt just as badly. “Nonna is ill.” There wasn’t much he could have said that would have broken through her pain and anger at their last parting, but those words got her attention. During the nightmarish year that she’d been with this amazing man, his Grandmother Rennata had been the one steady, friendly and loving force in her life. She’d been a true friend and confidant. “She’s not!” He didn’t even blink at her vehement rejection, but continued to stare at her steadily. “She’s in the intensive care unit. She fell sick last week, but refused to see a doctor. It became steadily worse until two days ago when she didn’t come down for dinner. When my mother went upstairs to check on her, Nonna Rennata couldn’t be revived. We called an ambulance and by the time the doctors examined her, they explained that she’d had a series of heart attacks.” Those two last words spoken about the small, wonderful woman who had taken Sasha under her wing and treated her like a granddaughter struck her as painful. “No!” Dante realized that his wife was genuinely upset by this, which confused him. She’d always kept apart from the family. He had no idea that Sasha cared one whit about his grandmother even though the elderly lady had asked for Sasha repeatedly during her illness. “She’s stable,” he said quickly, but the pained expression in his wife’s eyes didn’t diminish. When she thought she could speak without her voice breaking, she asked, “How long has she been in the hospital? “Three days.” With a slight nod, Sasha accepted this, berating herself for not already knowing and keeping in touch with Rennata more closely. They communicated via e-mail and text, but the communication was sporadic and Sasha only logged into her e-mail about once a week. “Is she still…?” Dante’s mouth compressed in frustration and confusion. “As I said, she’s stable. But she’s been asking for you.” That snapped Sasha out of her panic and gave her something to do, something to help. “Of course. If Nonna needs me, I’ll be there as fast as I can.” She was already walking towards the stairs to pack a bag. “We can be airborne as soon as you grab your purse.” That startled her. She glanced out the window and cringed inwardly at the thought of flying in a helicopter. Her fear of flying had been a source of embarrassment and she’d kept that from Dante, who didn’t seem to have any fears. But to date, she’d only flown in planes which were much more reliable in her mind. A helicopter ride brought up new and more terrifying issues she’d never faced while flying in Dante’s private fleet of jets. She hated the idea of getting into that contraption but she needed time to figure out how to avoid it. And she needed to get away from this tall, devastatingly handsome man who hated her from the depths of his being. Bowing her head slightly, she started to move towards the stairs. “Let me just pack some clothes,” she said, refusing to let the panic take over. She could deal with the fear of flying, even in a helicopter, if it meant getting to Nonna Rennata more quickly. She’d flown often enough in order to be close to Dante during their marriage and she hadn’t broken down, she could get through this. Deep breathing, imaging exercises, remember the “up” bumps in turbulence and not just the “down” bumps…most important, positive thinking. The plane, or now the helicopter, is not going to crash and millions of people fly safely in planes every day. Sasha wasn’t sure about the number that traveled safely in helicopters, but she pushed herself to focus on packing. Getting to Rennata. That was the most important issue. Dante tried to halt her momentum but Sasha was already heading towards the stairs. “You don’t need clothes. All the clothes you had during our short marriage are still at the house are still available for your use.” She stopped and looked at him with confusion. And thankfully it also distracted her from the upcoming flight in what she was trying desperately hard not to think of as a death trap. “Those clothes I had I lived with you in Italy?” She couldn’t claim that she’d bought them, but she’d definitely worn them to try and please him and placate his mother. “You didn’t get rid of them?” His eye brows snapped together, revealing his irritation with the question. “Of course not. They are worth a small fortune.” She squared her shoulders, wishing she didn’t feel the need to defend the cost of clothes she didn’t like and weren’t her style. But something about the expression on his handsome face made her step back and shake her head. “Not my choice. Your mother bought most of those for me. I never asked for nor wanted most of them.” He sighed and shrugged slightly, his expression changing from the subtly accusatory to the unconcerned. “She probably bought whatever she thought was appropriate for you. Can you get your purse? We need to be in the air as soon as possible. I don’t want Nonna to be wondering where you are. Any stress could cause a problem so we should hurry.” That shook her to the core, all the fight knocked out of her at the possibility of hurting that gentle lady. “Of course,” she said and stood up straighter, forcing her mind to work faster. “I need to get some clothes. I know there are designer clothes at your house, but I won’t wear those ever again.” She raced up the stairs before he could argue with her or try and convince her that the clothes from their marriage were more appropriate than the items she felt comfortable wearing. Tossing a couple pairs of jeans and a pair of shorts into a suitcase defiantly, she added tee shirts, sandals, a few dressier clothes that she preferred, and a casual sundress just to irritate Dante’s mother and she was ready to leave. It took her less than five minutes and she was pulling the small case back down the stairs. “I’m ready,” she said and glanced around, wondering if there was anything she needed to do. But since she’d only be gone for a day or two, she thought that anything she’d left hanging here could wait. She grabbed her purse, her passport and made sure her cell phone was inside, then turned to follow Dante. “Lead the way,” she quipped. Dante had always been fascinated by this woman although why he had no idea. She had never fit his lifestyle, was too gregarious, too trusting and too undisciplined. He lived his life with great deliberation, requiring order and schedule to each part of his day. This woman lived her life on the edge of one emotion or another, feeling too much and reacting on those emotions. Regardless, from the moment he’d met her, he had been drawn to her. She was beautiful, no doubt about that. Her figure had tormented him from the first time he’d run into her, and he’d resisted her allure for all of five minutes before finally giving in and accepting that there was just something about her that he needed. He certainly accepted the sexual need, that had been present from first sight. But seeing her now with her ragged duffle bag and her eyes once again alight with purpose and determination, he remembered how much he’d wanted to posses her, to control her and place his stamp of ownership on her. She was like a beautiful, delicate and rare hummingbird flitting wherever she needed to be. If she liked a place, she would return. If she didn’t, she was strong enough to fly away leaving just a taunting glimpse of heaven. He cursed under his breath as he followed her across the field of weeds and overgrown grass towards the helicopter, his eyes drawn to her long legs, picturing those legs wrapped around his waist as they had so many times in the past. No woman had ever gotten to him like this one had. And he resented that she still had power over him, even knowing what he knew about her morals, his body still wanted to melt into her and his mind wanted to possess her. Unfortunately, he’d found out that her morals were non-existent, a character trait that should have eliminated his desire for her. It just went to prove that a man’s body was controlled by what he saw, and not what was underneath. He could ignore this attraction though. He had more evidence than he had the first time he’d tried to fight it and he would win this round no matter how lush and sultry her body appeared to him. He resisted the urge to help her by putting a hand to her round derriere as she climbed into the luxurious helicopter. His hands burned when she slipped slightly and they automatically reached out to steady her. Fortunately, he pulled back quickly enough and she was able to right herself without his assistance. She stepped into the helicopter and took one of the plush, leather seats, sitting back and closing her eyes. The Sheik’s Secret Twins Chapter 1 “No, Jacob, you can’t eat Sam’s fruit. It doesn’t count even if you are twins.” Glancing at her watch, Siri Michaels realized they were again running behind on their morning schedule. As she put the milk back in the refrigerator, she caught a suspicious movement out of the corner of her eye. “Sam, you can’t hide your fruit in your pockets. You did that last week and forgot about them. I found them when I was doing the laundry and it was disgusting.” She almost rolled her eyes when her twin three year old boys laughed delightedly at rotting fruit in their jeans pockets. Were all boys fascinated by anything disgusting? Or were hers just abnormally enthralled? “Come on guys. We need to hurry up. Just finish your milk and gobble up those apples.” She shoved the files she’d been working on the previous night into her computer bag and looked around, stepping over Legos and narrowly missing a toy fire truck. Thankfully, she was still in her slippers because if she’d changed into her heels for the work day, she’d have been a gonner. In the midst of making a path, she remembered one very important question. “Sam, did you put on underwear today?” Why she even had to ask was beyond her but the tike liked going as free as a bird. She wasn’t looking at him but since there was no response, she glanced back and found two dark, curly heads bent close. As much as she loved these little guys, that pose was never good. And she’d learned the hard way that silence was bad. Generally, very bad. “Sam,” she called out from three feet away and waited until she had his full attention. When he looked up, the guilt in his eyes told her she’d caught them doing something wrong, but the trick was figuring out what that “something” might be. Had it already occurred? Or was their mischief imminent? She had to maintain a straight face under these circumstances, otherwise, they would consider her humor as encouragement in whatever they had planned. “Sam, do you have underwear on?” she asked again. She couldn’t help it when the chuckle escaped as he looked down and pulled his pants away to check. How could he not know? It seemed to her like underwear was an essential piece of clothing and the absence of that piece would be bothersome and uncomfortable. Siri knew the answer to her question when he looked up with that devilish grin. “Go put some on,” she commanded. The little guy scrambled off his chair before racing full speed to the bedroom and Siri was grateful that he was still at an age when he would obey her. She couldn’t take a break to ponder the future at this point in the morning. With Sam out of the picture, that left Jacob alone. Together, the twins were as thick as thieves. Separate them though, and she could usually get one to confess. “What are you guys planning?” she asked, bending down so she was at eye level with Jacob. They were fraternal twins, but they looked so similar it was extremely difficult for strangers to tell them apart. Siri could because she knew them and loved every tiny freckle on their faces. “We’re not planning anything,” Jacob whispered, and he placed a chubby hand on both sides of her face. “I promise, momma. We’re innocent.” Siri knew she was in trouble then. “Jacob, if you let me in on the secret, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert tonight.” Jacob’s eyes widened and he smiled excitedly, showing his tiny white toddler teeth with gaps in between because not all of his teeth were in. “Momma, Sam has a surprise for you.” Siri’s stomach churned with those words. The last time Sam brought her a surprise, he was covered in mud and had two little kittens under each arm. He’d “rescued” the kittens from someone else’s backyard. How he’d done that, she had no idea since her back yard was fenced in with a gate that only an adult could handle and there weren’t any kittens, much less mud, in her backyard. It had taken a week and several lost kitten posters posted around the neighborhood before the original owners had been found and kittens returned. “Jacob, you know I love surprises,” she lied and felt no remorse, “but I also know that sometimes Sam’s surprises can be a bit scary. Can you give me a hint?” Jacob was torn because he didn’t want his mother to be scared, but he couldn’t reveal the amazing surprise. “This won’t scare you. I promise. It’s a good surprise.” Sam was coming back down the hallway by that point so there wasn’t anything else Siri could say to convince him at the moment. But she’d have to work on him a bit later, her stomach churning at the idea of whatever these two extremely intelligent children had devised. “Okay, don’t tell him I know there’s going to be a surprise, okay?” It would make it easier to work on Jacob if Sam didn’t reinforce the “surprise” aspect of the treat they were creating for her. At least she hoped it was for her. The idea of her boys devising something for someone else, where she wasn’t able to run interference, wasn’t a scenario she relished. Jacob nodded happily, then jumped down off his chair himself and caught up with his brother. She cringed when she saw their heads immediately bend towards each other. “Get your shoes and coats on,” she called out and looked at the news on her computer screen, surveying the headlines on the Chicago Tribune website. Elections coming, check. Jobs report getting better, check. Weather, rainy. Not check, not good.” Put on your rain coats,” she called out again. Oil prices down, for how long? She started to put her computer to sleep, but something caught her eye. Oil prices down because….No! That simply wasn’t possible! In her panic, she couldn’t even ensure that the boys were following her instructions. Her eyes skimmed the text, then re-read the first paragraph over again since her panic was diminishing her ability to absorb what the words were explaining. He’s divorcing? She sat down heavily in the kitchen chair and clicked on the screen to get the full article. As she read through the words, only the message that Sheik Malik bin Saqqaf was in the midst of a divorce and pressure was mounting for him to re-marry quickly in order to produce an heir, something that hadn’t happened in his first marriage and his advisors were becoming worried about an end to the dynasty. A dynasty that had been extremely good for Duban. Why was a divorce necessary? Why wasn’t he just marrying another woman, she wondered? Couldn’t he have several wives? The idea actually made her stomach ache so she slapped the computer shut and turned around, only to find several sets of eyes staring at her. Sam and Jacob were in their rain coats and shoes, although Sam had his shoes on the wrong feet. To the left of Sam were their two dogs, “Rover” and “Boy”, neither canine having a very celebrated parentage and to the right of Jacob was “Kitty”, a white, short haired feline that loved shedding on Siri’s black slacks. All three animals had not been her choice but had shown up at various stages in her sons’ short lives and become part of the family. Sam was the animal lover and any creature that crossed his path needed to be adopted and “loved” by her adorable little son. He brought home animals even when they had owners, and she had to return them, sometimes with a very sad boy on her hands because, in his mind, no one could take care of animals and give them enough love like he could. “What’s wrong, momma?” Sam asked, his hand holding Rover’s scraggly fur nervously. Jacob, sensing the same tension, leaned into Sam and both boys somehow figured out how to have as much of their bodies touching each other without lying on top of the other. They didn’t need to be concerned with her trauma, she told herself. All they needed in their lives right now was a secure home with lots of hugs, kisses, understanding and parameters. “Nothing is wrong, little guys,” she said and pasted a bright smile on her face. “I just remembered that I needed to stop and get gas but I can do that after I drop you two off at school. I know you have your big day today, don’t you?” The boys relaxed slightly, but they kept close, not sure if they believed their mother or not. “Let’s go,” she said and herded the boys out to the car, kept the animals in the house with one foot while she closed and locked the door, all the while balancing their school bags on one shoulder, her computer bag in the other, her keys in her right hand and her coffee in the left. She refused to let her mind think about that man and his divorce as well as all the painful memories that were long gone and should never to be thought of again. As she drove them the short distance to their preschool, she did her best to appear upbeat and unconcerned until she kissed each of them on their chubby cheeks moments before they each ran off to play with their friends. She watched them carefully for a few moments, noting that each other was their real best friend. The others in the play group were interesting, but Sam and Jacob were two halves of a whole. When they were in elementary school, she’d have to separate them, encourage them to open up to others and diversify their lives, but for now, they were doing well. They were so smart it scared her sometimes. Would she be able to give them everything they needed as they grew up? Was she a good mother? Was she doing everything right? She sighed as she exited the school, her mid whirling with questions and insecurities. How nice it would be if she could talk to someone, bounce her ideas off of them and have someone take a bit of the worry away. But she didn’t have that. She was a single mother of twin boys who were always running around, always chasing something, curious about anything that moved, and if it didn’t move, they wanted to know why. If she wasn’t working to support them, she was searching the internet to keep up with their questions. But no matter how exhausting it was, she loved them and knew she’d never give them up for anything or anyone. Even a man who needed an heir, she thought angrily. He’d walked out, he’d rejected her letter, he’d never called or checked in on her. He could just go on about his merry old way and raise oil prices or let them fall, whatever made his day. He’d never find out about her sons! She’d tried to let him know about their existence but he’d rejected that letter, hadn’t even opened the letter since it was “returned to sender”. At the warehouse, she went to her office, smiling at the employees who were already on duty, chatting with several of them about deliveries and inventories, before moving on to her office. Once there, she closed her door, something she rarely did, and sat down in her chair to try and figure out what to do. She had to think through this latest news carefully, put it into perspective and then move on with her life. Malik’s marriage or dissolution of his marriage had no bearing on her life. She was independent, she’d worked hard to build up her toy business and she had two wonderful boys that depended on her. The days were always chaotic and she worked hard, proud of the company she’d built up four years ago. She’d built up this toy company from nothing, just an idea to distribute educational toys for kids, working hard over the years to ensure its success. There were several people who hadn’t liked working for someone younger, but she’d quickly changed their minds as she’d grown the company, expanding and giving all of them more opportunities. The idea for her company had come to her almost immediately after she’d discovered she was pregnant. She and her mother had been searching for toys that would be appropriate for what she’d thought would be her only child. What they’d been able to find had been some great toys, some bad ones and some mediocre, but nothing all in one spot. After a great deal of trial and error, she’d created a web site that consolidated all of the toys she thought were educational and beneficial to kids at various stages of their lives. The web site had taken off and she’d quickly expanded from her parents’ dining room to a small store, and then to this warehouse that could hold a larger inventory so she could get the toys out to her customers more quickly as well as several other retail stores. At lunch, her assistant placed a sandwich beside her elbow and Siri smiled her thanks. “Would you close the door again, Jane?” she asked as the woman was walking out. Jane was startled at the unprecedented request but complied and, as soon as she was alone, Siri put her head in her hands, closing her eyes and trying to push the memories at bay. She didn’t want to think about him but that article this morning had really gotten to her. She looked out her window at the drizzle that continued to fall, her mind traveling back to those halcyon days when everything was rosy and beautiful. And she hadn’t known the pain of a man’s betrayal. Chapter 2 Four Years Ago Siri glanced once more at her date for the night, wondering what in the world she possibly could have seen in him. She was in her second year of university and he was in his last so when he’d asked if she could accompany him on a dinner with his new boss, she’d eagerly accepted, thinking it would be nice to spend some time with people who might be intellectually stimulating. Not to mention Gary was a very handsome man. She wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, and maybe something could grow. They’d spent some time together at coffee shops and study groups although she’d been too intimidated by everyone else to speak up much. As she listened to him now, she couldn’t believe how stupid he was. If he mis-quoted one more philosopher, she might have to say something. Looking at their dinner companions, Gary’s new boss and his extremely patient wife, she wasn’t sure if they were just bored out of their minds by Gary’s monologue on why he’d adopted various aspects of some philosophers’ doctrines, discarding other parts as “superfluous” or “redundant”. Or if they were thinking of something else just to keep their minds off of what Gary was saying. When he once again ascribed Aristotle to the introduction of Forms to philosophy instead of Plato, Siri looked away, unwilling to see if their dinner companions, and Gary’s future employer, agreed or were showing contempt at the man’s blatant abuse of the great philosophers. As she glanced to her right, her eyes collided with a pair of dark, amused ones. The man was exceptionally handsome with dark, wavy hair and a strong jaw, and a half smiling mouth that showed he too had overheard Gary’s comments. This man, whoever he was, understood the differences between Plato and Aristotle and wasn’t impressed with Siri’s dinner companion. Siri glanced away, feeling somewhat odd with that man’s gaze. She placed a hand over her fluttery stomach and picked up her ice water, taking a long draw to cool herself down. Trying hard to focus on the conversation, hoping she might be able to liven it up a bit, she waited for a break in Gary’s diatribe about Durkheim. How had they gone from philosophy to sociology? She really must have missed a great deal of the conversation. Their food arrived and she picked up her fork, hoping Gary would also take the hint and start eating. His boss appeared to be moving out of the bored range and into the irritated. “Gary, that looks delicious. What did you order?” she asked, only to be polite. It didn’t work and Gary shifted back to philosophy after declaring emphatically that agnostics, like he claimed to be, shouldn’t limit their world after rejecting the existence of a divine being. Siri actually choked on her water with that one and her eyes went once more to the man at the next table. Sure enough, he was looking right back at her with an eyebrow raised in question. She tried very hard to smother the amusement at Gary’s confusion with agnostics versus atheists, but she kept quiet and just prayed to the divine being that she sincerely believed in, that this dinner would end quickly and their dinner companions were unaware of Gary’s gaffes. When the meal was finally over, Gary’s exuberance over his performance was astounding. The four of them were walking out of the restaurant and Siri pulled her wrap closer around her. It wasn’t that it was chilly so much as she didn’t want Gary to touch her bare skin. She was so repulsed by his ignorance that she couldn’t deal with any kind of affection from him. She turned to the side and once again, she found herself caught up in the stranger’s gaze. He was surrounded by his dinner companions, but he wasn’t paying any attention to them, just as she was in an island that seemed to contain only herself and the man standing ten feet away. He was much taller than she’d originally have guessed and in the brighter light of the valet area, she could see that his eyes were genuinely a light grey and weren’t a factor from the dim lighting of the restaurant. He was handsome, in an off-hand kind of way. It wasn’t so much his looks though, but something that was alluring about his appearance, something that drew one’s eyes towards him. He wouldn’t release her eyes and she felt captured, unable to look away, unable to hear anything that was going on around her and she wasn’t sure if she was standing or sitting, just too transfixed to do anything other than stand there until he released her. Fortunately, she didn’t really mind the hold he had over her. This stranger’s gaze was much more enjoyable than anything that was going on around her. Until Gary realized that she wasn’t paying attention to him. He grabbed her arm and nudged her. “Are you okay?” he asked in an almost angry tone. Siri blinked and that seemed to break the magic. She looked away, noticed where she was, that three pairs of eyes were waiting on her expectantly. “I’m sorry, I dazed out for a moment. Did someone ask me a question?” Gary puffed up like some angry cave man. “I asked if you knew that man over there.” Siri glanced back, but the tall man was getting into a large, black sport utility vehicle, disappearing from her sight. “No. I’ve never met him before,” she replied honestly. “He was sitting at the table next to ours during dinner.” “Then why were you staring at him like that?” he demanded. Siri glanced away, feeling slightly guilty. “I apologize. He was just….” She shook her head, unable to explain what had gone on between herself and the stranger. She couldn’t explain it in her mind, so putting words to her feelings and reactions wasn’t really possible. Gary cursed under his breath and turned back to his future boss. “I’m sorry, Mr. Meyers. Siri isn’t usually this rude. I suppose I simply made the wrong choice in companions for the evening.” Siri looked at the man who had been boring her all evening, her mouth falling open in astonishment. “Excuse me?” “You heard me,” Gary replied, shaking his head in disdain. “You’re rude and inconsiderate and I don’t think we’re going to work out well together.” Siri laughed and took a step back. Turning to the other couple, she smiled brightly. “Mr. Meyers, Ms. Meyers, I appreciate the dinner tonight. The food was exceptionally good. Unfortunately, the man you are considering hiring doesn’t know the difference between Plato, who’s primary doctrine was about Forms and their abstract meaning, to put a great mind in a nutshell,” she said turning to glare at Gary, “and Aristotle, who was a student of Plato. And how on earth you thought Durkheim was a companion of Socrates is beyond me, since the man was born in France several centuries after Socrates died, over thirteen hundred miles from Athens, Greece. Not only that, Durkheim studied sociology.” She was just about to turn away when she thought of one other subject. “Oh, and one other stupid comment? Atheists don’t believe in a divine being. Agnostics accept the existence of a divine being is unknown. A subtle difference, but one your mind is too small to understand.” She turned to the other couple, surprised to see their amusement at her comments. “Well said,” Mr. Meyers replied, the first time he revealed that he was fully aware of all the unintelligent comments Gary had mouthed during the dinner. “Please give me a call when you’re ready for a job. I’d like to talk to you about possibilities,” he said, handing her his business card. Looking back at Gary, “I don’t think that position we discussed is going to work out after all. And please don’t blame this young lady. I was going to tell you this in the morning, but since you pushed the envelope by speaking to her so poorly a few moments ago, I decided it was pointless to pull my punches since you set the tone.” Ms. Meyers was already nodding and tucking her hand into her husband’s elbow. “Would you like a ride back to your apartment, Siri? I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you going back with this young man.” Siri glanced up at Gary and stepped back. “Thank you. That’s very considerate of you.” She thought about catching a cab back to her place, but Gary was red enough in the face to be a problem so it was probably better to get out of the area. Besides, she didn’t really have the funds for a cab ride. The dress had cost her a great deal, not to mention the shoes that were biting into the tender flesh of her feet. The valet arrived at that moment, handing keys to both Gary and Mr. Meyers. Siri followed the couple, slipping into their back seat and refusing to glance at Gary the whole time. She was relieved when the older couple pulled away from the curb, both of them chatting away at some of Gary’s more idiotic comments during the meal. The next day, Siri was in her tiny apartment that she shared with another student. Both of them were studying, relaxed on the battered sofa and chair that made up their den area. Both pieces of furniture had seen better days but were covered with blankets or sheets that hid the worst of their wear. Siri had gone to her two classes for the day already and was propped up on the chair with her legs hanging over the side, her brown, slightly curly hair piled on top of her head, held there with a couple of pencils and a pen. She had a highlighter in one hand and was flipping the pages of her Art History book, making notes in the margins with the pen and highlighting anything that might be pertinent in the text. When the doorbell rang, her roommate, Linda, jumped up and answered the door, dumping her calculus book onto the floor eagerly. “Expecting someone? Maybe an agitated, unemployed idiot perhaps?” she joked, referring to Gary. Siri had told her all about the meal as soon as she’d gotten home last night, both of them laughing at some of Gary’s comments. “Not for me,” Siri said, focusing on the history of Renaissance paintings. In the back of her mind, Siri heard Linda answer the door, but the mumbled greetings didn’t break her concentration. “Uh, Siri?” Linda called out. “Tell them I’m not here,” she called back, knowing that whoever it was could hear her comments but still hoping they would be discouraged. “Um…I’m not sure this guy is going to take no for an answer.” That got through to Siri and she glanced up from her book. When she saw the tall man in the dark suit standing in her kitchen, the only other area besides the den and the two bedrooms which were on opposite sides of the den, Siri jumped up, dumping her books and notes all over the orange, shag carpet. “Oh!” she cried out and looked down at the papers, then back up at the gorgeous man who was looking at her with a blank expression on his face. He looked scarier, more intimidating, in the bright afternoon sunshine. And much, much taller! She pulled the pen out of her hair, wishing she’d pulled on something better than leggings and an old tee shirt which had definitely seen better days and only came down to her waist. “Sorry,” she said and grabbed Linda’s boyfriend’s shirt which was draped over the back of the only other chair in the apartment. “I wasn’t expecting anyone today. We were just studying.” “I’m sorry to interrupt,” the man replied with a slight accent which Siri couldn’t place immediately. “I thought perhaps we might be formally introduced since we had such an amusing evening last night.” Siri had to laugh despite her nervousness at this extremely large man in her apartment. “It wasn’t so funny towards the end, but he did serve as a good amusement factor, didn’t he?” Malik took a step forward, his eyes looking over her beautiful skin for signs of abuse. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? I know that you confronted him at the end, and I apologize for not being there to stop him if things became physical.” She looked up at him curiously. “It wasn’t your responsibility to ensure my safety, but I appreciate the thought. I can take care of myself,” she claimed. Malik stopped his laughter, but only just in time. This woman who barely reached his shoulder thought she could handle an angry man with his pride wounded in front of his future employer? “I’m glad to hear it.” He stepped back and smiled. “I would like to take you out to dinner myself, if you have the time.” Siri was startled and not sure how to respond. She looked to Linda who was just as awestruck. Regrouping quickly so she didn’t appear so ridiculous, she replied, “I’m flattered, but I really don’t think that I’m I your league,” she stated softly, wishing that she could be in his league. This man was hunk material, but also terrifying for some reason. Linda really didn’t like Siri’s response and stepped forward. “She’d be delighted,” she contradicted. “What time and where should she meet you?” she asked, already picking up a pen and notebook and writing something down on it. Malik glanced at the cute redhead who interceded on his behalf, appreciating her efforts. “Eight o’clock, tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up here.” Linda nodded, ignoring Siri’s attempt to contradict her. “That sounds perfect, “ she said, nodding her head for emphasis. “Here’s Siri’s cell phone number in case anything comes up. And she’ll be ready tomorrow at eight.” The tall, gorgeous man took the paper and bowed slightly, handing the paper to one of the large, bulky men behind him without even glancing at it. “I look forward to our evening. And I will work hard to ensure that I don’t mistake my philosophers since you apparently are so well versed in their doctrines.” With that, he stepped out of the apartment and closed the door, leaving behind two stunned women who looked at each other as if they’d just been invited to a royal ball. “Who was that man?” Linda asked, when she remembered to close her mouth, her whole body showing her excitement for Siri’s new man. Siri shrugged, still staring at the now closed door. “I have no idea. He was at the table next to ours last night and we looked at each other every time Gary said something stupid but I don’t know his name. And I couldn’t even guess where he’s from since I couldn’t place his accent.” Linda wasn’t excited any longer. She was actually looking a bit worried now. “And you’re going out with him? Is that safe?” Siri turned to glare at her roommate, astonished that she was asking that question now after Linda had just accepted the date despite Siri’s rejection. “Not really,” she said with emphasis, raising an eyebrow. “But did I have a choice? Not really!” Linda laughed and flopped back down on the sofa, her worry dissipating just as easily as it had appeared. “Well, it’s about time you got out and explored a little. Have a bit of adventure tomorrow night with your mystery guy. He looks yummy, so enjoy it!” “I might enjoy it more if I knew his name.” At that moment, her cell phone rang and she looked down at the tiny screen. It was an unknown number, but something told her to answer the call anyway. “Hello?” she answered warily. “I think I forgot to tell you my name,” a deep voice said over the phone. “Yes, we were just mentioning that,” she replied, glancing at Linda who was watching her eagerly. “I’m Malik,” he explained. “And I’m very glad to meet you, Siri.” She hesitated to ask, actually afraid of the answer but knowing she had to find out anyway. “How did you find out who I am?” “I have a few resources.” “And how do you know where I live?” “Same resources. I promise I’m not a stalker. Just consider me a man interested in getting to know a beautiful woman. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Siri glanced at her phone, then at Linda. “His name is Malik and he has ‘resources’,” she explained to her curious roommate. “He has a lot more than resources,” Linda replied with a grin before once more diving back into her books. The Tycoon’s Marriage Exchange Chapter 1 Kallista Papadelias shook her head, her eyes wary as she faced this large, intimidating man who was waiting patiently for her answer. “Surely there’s an alternative. I really don’t want to marry you.” She braced herself, her muscles tense and guarded as the powerful man sitting across from her absorbed her rejection. Goose bumps rose up on her arms and she knew that the shivers running through her were due more to the man’s darkening eyes than the cold air blowing down from the ceiling’s ventilation system. She wrapped her cold, shaking fingers around the coffee cup in front of her, trying to gain some warmth but she was too nervous. “Have you heard a thing I’ve said?” Hector Christophe asked digging deeper to find more patience. This woman sitting in front of him was lovely, but he wasn’t sure how much was going on inside her pretty head. He’d thought she was exceptionally intelligent but she wasn’t displaying any right at the moment. “Your father’s business is in jeopardy. He is going to lose everything if I don’t help him. And he won’t accept my help because of his pride.” Kallista tried to focus, truly she did, but the way this man was watching her unnerved her, made her stomach quake and her muscles tense. Unfortunately, if his irritated look was any indication, she’d obviously missed something significant during this discussion. “What does me marrying you have to do with that?” Hector was proud that he didn’t grind his teeth in frustration, knowing that would only make her more nervous. “Don’t be obtuse, Kallista. You know how our culture works,” he replied heartlessly. “If we are married, I would be family. Your father would accept help from a family member. As it stands now, he won’t even acknowledge to me that there’s a problem. But I can see in his eyes when I try and talk to him about some of the issues I’ve discovered, and I know that he’s fully aware of the dangers to his company and all he’s built over the years. He’s trying to fix this himself but he doesn’t have the resources so he’s making a bigger mess of the situation. I’m already working behind the scenes to help, but I need to become more out in the open to deter the takeover.” He watched carefully as the woman with soft blue eyes and pale, porcelain skin listened carefully. She was tall for a woman at five feet, seven inches but he still towered over her and he couldn’t help his size. It was scaring her and he shifted to give her more space, but there was only so much he could do. He was six feet, three inches tall which made him loom larger than most of the men she was probably used to. She smelled good, he thought, then banished that from his mind. Her scent, no matter how lovely, had nothing to do with this conversation. There was a crisis and he could see her occasional shivers so he had to ignore her allure and focus on saving her family’s reputation, and her father’s company. Kallista’s hands squeezed tightly together under the table. She loved her parents and they’d done so much for her. How could she not do this if it would help them? Hector was right, her father wouldn’t accept help from a friend but in her culture, family was not only allowed to help when needed, they were expected to help however possible. Families stuck together, they worked together, lived, laughed, fought and loved together. And when things got tough, they all came together to find a solution to whatever problem was facing them. Her father, bless his soul, had more pride than sense sometimes, Kallista thought angrily. She pulled the complicated reports and colorful charts closer, trying to understand the immense data this man was attempting to impart to her. “Okay, so please explain all this to me one more time and let me try and absorb the situation. Surly there’s a less drastic way to deal with this horrible situation other than the two of us marrying.” Hector sighed and pulled the files together. He’d gone through all the information himself and tried to come up with an alternative but every time he’d approached Demetrius Papadelias with a solution, Kallista’s father, the man had simply shut down and changed the subject. Unfortunately, whenever Hector visited his old friend, he saw that the valuable paintings that were slowly leaving the walls of Demetrius’ once regal home, he recognized the slow deterioration and the dust intermingled with the missing valuables. Kallista’s mother no longer wore even her beautiful engagement ring, which led Hector to suspect that she had sold the ring to try and raise needed money to counter this latest threat to their company. It wasn’t that Kallista’s parents were in a bad situation. Hector’s information told him that Demetrius Papadelias, and more than five thousand employees, were about to be swindled horribly, the entire company and all of its employees and their families will lose their life savings and their pensions if someone didn’t come in and stop this takeover threat. So it wasn’t just Demetrius and Kallista’s family who needed to be saved. It was the life savings of thousands of innocent families who could be completely destroyed if someone didn’t step in and stop the insidious problem this takeover presented. With a patience Hector didn’t realize he had, he straightened and once again went through the data, trying to explain to Kallista Papadelias what had happened and what impact the crisis could mean for everyone involved. “Six months ago, stock in your father’s company started getting bought up. The price has remained relatively stable...” he explained, showing Kallista the charts and graphs his staff had generated to explain the takeover attempt. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just a takeover. The man who was slowly, secretly buying up stock in her family’s business was known for purchasing troubled companies and liquidating everything, sometimes even draining the pension funds if there was a weak pension manager. There were stories that he even denied final paychecks to employees after some sales when he took over a company. The man in charge operated both above and below the law, uncaring if anything he did was legal. Since he’d done this so many times, the man was a relatively wealthy and had a team of unethical lawyers who sometimes provided bogus cover or slammed the opposition with inane but expensive litigation to protect him from any repercussions. Kallista rubbed her forehead, a headache forming as she tried to understand all this data. “Who is this man that is doing all of this and how can he operate in this nasty manner?” she asked, going cross eyed from all of the financial information. She didn’t understand most of it but didn’t want to admit that to Hector Christophe who was reportedly a financial genius. She might have joked that he thought he controlled the world to her parents one evening, but the reality was that his holdings internationally were so broad, so far flung, that the man really might control the world. Or at least a very large part of it. He was so powerful, she still didn’t understand why Hector and her family were friends. Although he’d always come by her parents’ house when he was in town, she’d never really understood the friendship Hector had with her father. Kallista had avoided these intimidating meetings whenever possible, but was polite when her parents insisted that she be present for the occasional dinners when Hector was in town and had time for a meal at her parents’ house. It wasn’t that her parents were poor. They were definitely what most people considered wealthy. Even the elite, some might say. But they weren’t even close to the stratosphere where Hector reigned. He was the top dog in a pack of some of the most powerful men in the world. And he’d done it all from nothing according to the vague news reports that had come out over the years. As a reporter, she was fascinated by his incredible rise to power. Her mind might not be able to absorb the technical financial issues he was explaining, but she had a great mind for digging into an issue and finding the story. Her fingers were itching to write up her impressions of the man, ask him questions and interview him for an article. Maybe, after this latest investigation she was working on, she might tackle the great and famous Hector Christophe and see if she could discover how he’d really made his first million. Or all the subsequent billions, she thought with irritation. The man had never granted an interview with any reporter, so he was a mystery she would enjoy tackling. One challenge at a time, she admonished herself and re-focused on the spreadsheets in front of her, not daring to look up at the man in front of her because, each time she did, she lost her train of thought. Those intense, grey eyes didn’t relent as he tried to make her understand. There was so much more behind those eyes, something she didn’t understand, something shocking in a way she didn’t comprehend and yet, the feeling was still somehow alluring and tempting. “Everything ties back to this man,” Hector was saying and he pushed the grainy picture of a thin man with a Roman looking nose and receding hairline closer to her. “Somehow, your father and he met and they started investing together. It’s from that moment that your father’s business started to decline.” Kallista smothered the gasp of horror as she stared down at the man in the picture. He was the man she was currently investigating! She had a whole story surrounding this man who she suspected was controlling drug distribution at many of the ports along the Greek coastline. And what was worse, Kallista had introduced her father to this man! It had been an accidental meeting about seven months ago. She and the man in the picture named Rolf Peterson were having coffee one afternoon. Kallista had pretended to run into him one day and she’d “accidentally” dropped the contents of her bag on the sidewalk in an effort to gain his attention. Acting like a flighty klutz with her short skirt and high heels, she’d gotten Rolf to suggest coffee, which was exactly the opening for which she’d been aiming. It was a horrible coincidence that her father had run into her that day. There had been nothing she could do but invite her father to join them for coffee and introduce him to Rolf. Her father hadn’t stayed long, but it must have been long enough for Rolf to get an idea on how to infiltrate her father’s company. Her father hadn’t told her that he’d contacted, or been contacted by, the man she’d introduced to him that day. So this whole business was her fault? She’d done this to her family? She stared at Hector’s face as he continued to explain but she didn’t hear the words any longer. She was trying to figure out an alternative, not wanting to sacrifice her life by marrying a man as cold, frightening and unfeeling as Hector Christophe. She reacted to this man in an elemental way that, in her mind, was shockingly unsuitable. Her stomach muscles tightened as his male scent drifted to her nostrils, making her head swim in an inappropriate way. He wasn’t handsome, but she had to admit that there was a certain bold, earthy appeal to the man. He was extremely tall and he definitely had a good tailor because his shoulders looked very broad and muscular. Good padding, she thought. His eyes were grey and sharp, intelligent was the best she could describe if she were being generous. But she didn’t want to marry a man like that. She wanted a man who was warm and comforting, someone she could cry to when she needed help or who would listen when she was stuck on a problem. She was fairly certain that Hector Christophe wouldn’t listen. He’d just fix everything and tell her in a patronizing tone that she was a good girl for coming to him with the problem, then carry on with his own business issues. Kallista put her hand over the pile of papers, stopping him from continuing. She had no idea what he was saying, nor would she even if he tried to patiently explain it all over again. Her mind was too consumed with the fact that, at the bottom of all of this, she’d started the ball rolling. If she could stop it simply by marrying Hector and saving her father’s pride, she had to do it. “I’ll marry you,” she said softly, looking away and trying to hide her tears and confusion. Wasn’t she a good daughter? Hadn’t she been raised to think of marriage as a union between two people who loved and respected one another? So why was she entering into this marriage with cold deliberation? And, if she were completely honest with herself, secret admiration for a man she didn’t understand. Hector looked at the lovely woman with the soft hair and blue, alluring eyes. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything would be okay, that he would fix this problem and maybe they could be happy. But he wasn’t sure he could do that. He could definitely fix the problem with her father, but there was so much more to happiness and he couldn’t promise her that. Not with his history. As an orphaned child, left on the streets to rob and steal, to scrounge in the garbage and gutters for food, he knew that happiness was elusive. If it weren’t for Kallista’s father, he might still be in the gutters. The day Hector had tried to steal from Demetrius, and been caught, had been the day his life had become worth something. Demetrius hadn’t allowed the police to take Hector. Instead, the gentle, elderly man had brought him to a restaurant and fed him. He’d been kind, patient, ignoring the shifting eyes of a young boy who was looking for his next victim and told that young boy that he was better than this. That he could be so much more if he wanted. Demetrius had saved Hector’s life and now the tables were turned. There was no way he would allow Demetrius, nor the other employees of his company, to fall victim to Rolf Peterson’s activities. Having lived the life of a gutter rat, Hector knew how to play with the worst of them. He’d never break the law again. That would be letting down the man who had given him so much. But Hector had quickly learned how to use the laws to his advantage. As he watched Kallista’s gentle features, he knew instinctively that he wanted to protect her again. So many evenings he’d sat across the table from her at her parents’ house, watching her, knowing that she was out of his league, that she was too good for him. He’d honestly tried to come up with an alternative to this predicament with her father, but when it came down to it, marriage to her was the best he could do and would allow him to move in quickly and fight Peterson with everything in his arsenal. With a stern nod, he stood up. “I’ll stop by your house tonight and we’ll tell your parents the news.” Kallista also stood and followed him, trying to get her mind to focus but she wasn’t sure that was possible anymore. This had been a crazy morning and she was off kilter, needing some way to ground herself. The thought occurred to her that his shoulders were definitely wide enough and strong enough to give her a place to cry out her fears. But she squashed that thought, knowing that Hector Christophe was not the kind of man who would endure tears with fortitude. “I’ll meet you there then.” “What do you mean?” he asked, his hand resting on the door to his office but not opening it. Kallista smiled slightly, realizing that Hector probably thought that she still lived with her parents. She was a single woman in his eyes and therefore, he probably assumed she would be living at her parents’ house until she was married. “I have my own place,” she said, staring at the center of his red silk tie, unable to look him in the eye. “Why aren’t you living with your parents?” She laughed softly, even though his comment wasn’t the least bit amusing. “Why don’t you live with your parents?” she asked softly. When she received no response, she took that to mean that she’d explained her point. “Everyone needs their own space. I grew up, graduated from university and thought it was time to stand on my own two feet. I’ve had my own apartment ever since I finished college.” Since there were double doors, she reached out for the knob of the other door and pulled it open, walking out without bothering to say goodbye, leaving him with a small smile which she hoped conveyed her thanks, but she suspected that it might just give him a hint as to how frightened she was of being in his presence. At the elevator, she pressed the button and thought about all she’d just committed herself to. Would her parents even approve of the marriage? She wasn’t sure she could hide her fear of Hector from them. He was so different from the other men she’d dated, surely they would see through the lie and call her on it. He was a large, domineering man who frightened her in some elemental way that she didn’t understand. On the other hand, he also made her feel things, emotions or shivering experiences that none of her other dates had even come close to doing to her. That both frightened her, and in an odd, bizarre way, it thrilled her right down to her belly. It made her feel feminine and….wanted? No, she was just imagining those crazy feelings. She’d wanted so badly to fall into a crazy-in-love relationship and just because Hector scared her more than the other men she’d met to date, that didn’t mean that he was the man for her. Maybe if her parents objected to the marriage, she could then sit down with them, explain Hector’s offer of help and they would finally accept it. That would get her out of a marriage that terrified her, wouldn’t it? Yes, her parents would see through the lie. They would sense her fears and she could convince them to accept Hector’s help. Wasn’t her whole world all about convincing people through words? As a journalist, she knew that finding the right story to tell was only part of the question. Telling the story so everyone could understand and absorb the information, that was the other half of the challenge. Right now, she was working on a huge story, one that could catapult her into another realm of journalism and she wasn’t about to let it go just to marry a man who was the equivalent of a terrifying, unfeeling cold fish. Albeit a tall fish, she thought with a chuckle. And an extremely handsome one. No chuckle this time as her body shivered with the memory of his strong, elegant hands. Out in the street and back in the sunshine, she felt enormously better. With Hector’s generous help, she could get her parents through this crisis and they would be stronger for it. She wouldn’t have to sacrifice her life or her career for the problem and she might even get additional information about the subject of her investigation from Hector once they’d resolved the corporate crisis. Chapter 2 “You’re getting married?” Aella Papadelias, Kallista’s mother, asked with an incredulous expression. Her shaking hands covered her mouth and she turned to her father. “They’re getting married!” she whispered reverently. “Oh, dear, they’re getting married.” Kallista watched with a sinking heart as her mother and father looked at each other, the relief in both their expressions and their shoulders, in fact, their whole bodies, was evident. Aella stood up and rushed to her daughter. “Oh, Kallista! You have no idea how happy this has made me and your papa.” Kallista hugged her mother, looking over her shoulder at Hector who was standing stoically beside the sofa. It was as if he were aloof, not willing to be a part of their small family and the excitement the announcement had caused. Or maybe he didn’t think he belonged. She blinked and looked back at her parents, not wanting to see the almost brutally blank expression on Hector’s features. Where that thought came from she didn’t know. Hector had a way of belonging anywhere he went, she thought as she accepted her father’s ecstatic hug as well. She was being ridiculous, she told herself firmly. Hector had enough power to crush anyone who made him feel like an outsider, even if their exclusion was accidental, so people went out of their way to make him feel welcome. So why did she get the strong sense that he was feeling like an outcast? Kallista didn’t like thinking of Hector as vulnerable. It made him human, gave him feelings and she preferred thinking of him as a robot, unfeeling and invulnerable to the lesser human emotions others had to deal with. But something about his face, the way he refused to allow any emotions to cross his rough features, told her that there was something more to him than she realized. Her mother sensed Hector behind her as well and she rushed over, taking his face between her hands and bringing his face down for a motherly kiss. “I’m very honored to have you as a son in law,” she said with a great deal of emotion, tears forming on her eyes as she looked up at him with pride. Hector was uncomfortable with her praise. He wanted to step out, to let the three of them celebrate this event on their own without his interference, but Aella wouldn’t let him even step back. She looped her arm through his, giving him another hug and making him brace himself to resist the warmth she was showing him. Kallista’s father also came over, shaking Hector’s hand and bringing him over to the sofa so they were all once again sitting down. Hector wanted to pull the man aside and apologize for even considering marrying his daughter, to explain that he knew that he was unworthy of such an honor and he would treat her with the care and respect she deserved. But Demetrius was too vociferous in his congratulations and there wasn’t a point in the conversation where Hector could pull him aside. He was being dragged into this, even though his inclusion was wrong on so many levels. Demetrius looked over at the two of them, his eyes alight with relief and excitement. “How did all this happen? I didn’t even know you two were dating?” Kallista cringed inside and looked to Hector for help. “We haven’t really been dating so much as just seeing each other,” he explained carefully. “And the idea of marriage came up pretty suddenly.” Kallista wanted to laugh at how accurate that statement truly was, to applaud his use of half truths so that they weren’t lying to her parents but still protecting them from the cold reality of their relationship. Since she and Hector had just discussed marriage this afternoon, and they honestly only saw each other at some social functions even though they rarely spoke, there was no untruth to that statement at all. It was a wonderful twist on reality that made a very sweet fairy tale, something for her parents to hang onto. Dinner that night was festive for her parents and Kallista tried to at least pretend to be in the mood, but she was tense and worried, barely tasting the food that was served even though everyone else exclaimed that it was delicious. Her plan to try and talk with her parents was slowly disintegrating as the night progressed and they became happier, more relieved. She knew she couldn’t back out of this now. She’d have to help them out and if that meant marrying a man she didn’t know or love, she’d do it. Looking at Hector across the table, she considered his profile as he talked with her mother. He definitely wasn’t bad looking. He wasn’t traditionally handsome but there was a definite ruggedness that was definitely appealing. He certainly had strong features, dark, intelligent eyes and broad shoulders. And he was so intelligent that it was downright scary. Besides, the marriage didn’t have to be real. Hector probably didn’t think of it as a real proposal, but something he was doing out of respect for her parents, right? They could end the marriage once he’d done whatever it was he needed to do to help her father’s ailing company. Or was he the kind of man who thought of marriage as a forever kind of contract? He was reputed in the business world to be brutal, but also respected and honorable. One didn’t gain that reputation without a great deal of experience behind it. No way, she thought. Although she didn’t know much about the man, she knew that he regularly escorted fabulously glamorous women to functions all over the world. He’d reputedly had an affair with one of the biggest Hollywood actresses, and several models, even a ballerina. She doubted he was the kind of man who would want to be stuck with one female for the rest of his life. Especially a female like herself who had no glamour, no fabulous career and minimal connections that could assist him in his business dealings. “So when were you planning to have the wedding? Any ideas on what time of the year? Perhaps a spring or fall wedding?” Aella was asking, looking to Kallista hopefully. “Soon,” Hector announced before Kallista could reply. Which was probably a good thing because she might have said something like “A year or so,” instead of the ambiguous “Soon”. Her mother beamed and sat up a bit straighter in her chair. “I’ll have to organize an engagement party. Between the two of us, we can get that done in the next month or so, can’t we Kallista?” “We’ll be married in two weeks,” Hector announced with his deep, strong voice, surprising the whole group. “And Kallista has asked if we can have the engagement party at my house because she likes my backyard so much. I know that’s an imposition to ask, but I hope that’s okay.” Aella was startled at first, but Kallista again saw that flash of relief in her mother’s eyes and her heart sank even lower, both at how oblivious she had become to her parents’ troubles as well as the trap that that was slowly closing around her future. “Oh, goodness, how could I mind? Your backyard is exceptionally beautiful with all of that magnificent landscaping and stunning views of both the city and the sea.” She turned to Kallista and smiled, “It was very nice of you to think of something like that. It shows that you have a good eye for entertaining which will be important for your new role as Hector’s wife.” And that was something Kallista hadn’t realized would be on her plate of responsibilities. A new issue to worry about, she thought as her mother started listing all the things they would have to arrange for an engagement party. Her mother was eager, excited and deliriously happy while her father simply looked on with pride and acceptance for whatever his wife decreed. Hector saw where things were going and stepped in to circumvent any delays. In a tone that wouldn’t accept any arguments, he said, “We’ll have the engagement party next week, and the wedding the following week. I know that’s not very conventional, but we’ll just have to insult some people’s sense of protocol since I want the wedding to take place sooner rather than later.” Aella’s hand quickly went to her throat. She looked quickly between her daughter and the man she was going to marry, her suspicions clashing around in her mind. “Is there a reason the wedding needs to happen so soon?” she asked, looking worriedly from Kallista to Hector. Kallista was quick to understand her meaning and pretended like her face wasn’t flaming with color. “Of course not!” she replied emphatically. She was blushing painfully and couldn’t look across the table, not wanting to see the derision on Hector’s features. “Goodness, I would tell you if that were the case.” Her shoulders visibly relaxed with that news, but she still looked confused. “So what’s the rush?” Once again, Hector stepped in with an easy answer. “I have business in New York and London in the next few weeks so I wanted to announce the engagement officially as soon as possible so Kallista can accompany me. I wouldn’t want her reputation to be hurt by attending these functions without my ring on her finger. And I wanted to give you time to make the announcement instead of the press seeing us together and making suppositions on their own.” He was speaking to her parents, but Kallista knew that the words were soothing to her parents as well, and would allow them to save face with their friends and neighbors. And when she didn’t show up pregnant so soon after the wedding, their suspicions would be dismissed. The relief and acceptance on her mother’s face was instant and Kallista relaxed. At least until her next words. “Goodness! If we have a party to organize in a week, Kallista, you and I have a lot we need to get done. No more running around with all your friends for a while, eh?” Her mother and father knew she worked, even to the point of accepting her choice of professions, but they thought she only did entertainment pieces or reported on social issues. Kallista hadn’t told her parents about her desire to become an investigative journalist, nor had she mentioned the story she was currently working on about the drugs moving through the harbors. That would worry them too much. “I suppose you’re right,” she said, looking at her water glass, her heart sinking as she tried to figure out how she was going to investigate her story when she had to help her mother plan what was probably going to be a huge bash. Something her parents couldn’t afford. Hector immediately stepped in, once again to the rescue. “I have a caterer I use for business functions that is able to get food ready quickly. They do an excellent job too. I’ll have my secretary send over the name and contact information.” Kallista suddenly realized what he was doing. By having the party in his backyard, and using his company’s caterer, he was arranging it so that he paid for most of the party. With gratitude, she looked across at him, smiling her thanks. He nodded slightly, acknowledging her thanks without letting her parents see their silent interchange. After dinner, Hector apologized and said he had some business calls to make. “Would you walk me out?” he asked, turning to Kallista. She stood up immediately and ignored her parents knowing smile. Walking Hector to the door was a very odd sensation. He was so tall that her head barely topped his shoulder even in her heels. And he seemed larger, broader for some reason tonight. Maybe she was just tired but she wanted the evening to be over so she could collapse and let her mind sift through the events of the day, try to make sense of everything. “You did well tonight,” he said and looked down at her in the dim light of the foyer. He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks so he wouldn’t touch her, wouldn’t be tempted to find out what the skin on her cheeks felt like or test the softness of her silky brown tresses. “You’re parents are happy and relieved.” Kallista forced a smile on her face and hid her hands behind her back. She wished she could get over this silly feeling she had every time he was close but her knees were wobbly and her mouth felt dry, her hands were shaky and she had the embarrassing suspicion that he knew she wanted to touch him, to find out what was underneath that immaculate suit he wore. “Yes. Thank you for coming to the rescue. I had no idea that things were as bad as they were, even with all those numbers you were discussing with me earlier today.” “Numbers you completely ignored,” he said with a half smile as he looked down at the top of her head. She laughed and glanced up at him, her blue eyes dancing with acceptance that she’d been caught. “Was it that obvious?” He chuckled and shifted slightly. “A little.” She grimaced and stole another peek at his dark features. “I never claimed to be a numbers person. I always hated math.” “Don’t worry,” he said and bowed slightly in a formal, almost old fashioned way. “I can now start the ball rolling to resolve this issue although I doubt your father will allow me to do much until after the wedding. Which is one of the reasons why we need to be married so soon. I’ll need to move quickly to reinforce your father’s company.” Gone was the fleeting tenderness she thought she saw, and back was the tough, unrelenting businessman. “I understand. I’ll do what I can to help.” “You’re already doing it,” he said and opened the door, nodding to her slightly before he left. Kallista walked up the stairs to her old room, glad that she still had some clothes here since she didn’t have an easy way to get back to her place. She smiled slightly as she wondered if Hector thought it was better for her to be with her parents than at her own place, or if he’d just forgotten that she didn’t live here any longer. Good grief, she was twenty-four years old, of course she wouldn’t be living with her parents. She wondered about the odd expression she’d seen on his face when she’d asked about living with his parents earlier today. Had she seen a flash of pain? Or was that just male dominance? Or perhaps he thought there was a difference between men and women. Maybe he thought that women should either live with their parents or their husbands, never alone or without male supervision because they were inferior, stupid, and needed male guidance. She didn’t think that was the case. He didn’t strike her as misogynistic. Arrogant, opinionated, exceptionally intelligent and perhaps more than a bit domineering. Not a woman hater, though. As she got ready for bed that night, she smiled at how thoughtful it was that Hector had realized her parents wouldn’t be able to pay for an engagement party, much less the lavish one they’d like to give for their only child. He really was a nice man, she thought. If only she could understand him! The Russian’s Furious Fiancée Chapter 1 “We have the most eligible candidates ready for your review, sir,” Joan Bezzel said to the tall, handsome man striding into the luxurious office. She sat up straighter, letting the hem of her skirt ride up just a little bit higher as the gorgeous man glanced in her direction. If she were twenty years younger, she might have put herself into the list of candidates, she thought. Of all the clients who had sought out her services, this one was definitely the dishiest. Well, maybe not, she corrected as the man sat down across from her. She might want a man who had a few more emotions. Damon Kelopatros was tall, handsome and sinfully wealthy, but he was one of the coldest men she’d ever met. His Russian heritage was definitely apparent in his directness and cold, emotionless determination. He was going about this whole business with a bit too much logic, in her opinion. And she’d seen a lot! Most of her clients wanted to at least meet the eligible women before making a decision on which candidate would be their wife. Mr. Kelopatros was coolly logical, coldly calculating and hadn’t met a single candidate. And this was their final meeting. “What do you have for me?” Damon Kelopatros barely glanced at the team sitting at the polished conference room table. This was a business meeting and he didn’t have time for niceties. As far as he was concerned, he was paying Ms. Bezzel a large fee in order to find him the perfect wife and he wanted the business concluded as soon as possible so he could move on to his next acquisition. Joan efficiently pushed the files forward, head shots of each candidate pinned on top of each folder since appearance was always what people noticed first. And most candidates were eliminated on that aspect as well so she had learned over the years to just get that out of the way first. “We have five candidates for your inspection. All of them have been researched by my team and all are single, with no significant prior relationships or children from other relationships, all have impeccable backgrounds and have been raised in families that understand your business needs.” Damon nodded, laying out the five files so that he could view the pictures together. Joan had done an excellent job of sticking to his personal preferences he noted. All were physically acceptable candidates with well styled hair and good skin. He quickly read through their education and current employment positions. “Not this one,” he said, dismissing one woman with a medical degree, “and not this one,” he replied, pushing away another who was a certified public accountant. “I want a woman who is going to help me with my career, Joan. These two will be more focused on their careers than mine.” Joan quickly tucked the two files away into her briefcase, then calmly settled her hands back in her lap, waiting for other comments. While he surveyed the files, she took a moment to examine the great, forbidding man himself. He certainly was handsome with his black hair cut very short and that dark shadow already forming on his strong jaw. She wondered how much of his terrifying reputation was due to his height which she guessed was around six feet, four inches, maybe even closer to six-five. The man looked down at everyone! Not to mention his yummy physique. She’d seen him still in his exercise clothes one day when she’d come to his house for an early morning meeting and this man was drool worthy with thick muscles everywhere on his tall frame. His eyes were probably his most interesting characteristic. Well, besides his obscenely large bank balance, she thought with secret relish. Those eyes were almost golden but deeper. Not quite brown, but she couldn’t really come up with an accurate description. Amber perhaps? Not really. They seemed to change depending on his mood. When he’d first walked in, she would have sworn that his eyes were golden but as he looked at the picture of Ms. Fontini, those remarkable eyes seemed to darken to that odd, indefinable color. Fascinating! Damon took the next three files and read through the biographies but his eyes kept straying to one picture. It wasn’t that this one was more beautiful, he thought, although she was definitely lovely. There was just something that repeatedly drew his eye. She was exquisite with long, brown hair that was cut into layers that framed her face then her shoulders. In the picture, her grey eyes were laughing at something outside of the picture frame, but her smile struck something inside of him. Her smile made him want to grin, something he rarely did. It was good that she was Greek, living right here in Athens where a great deal of his current business was headquartered. That would make things more convenient he thought. “This one,” he said and tossed the file of the grey eyed woman into the middle of the table. “You’ll arrange it?” he asked as he stood up, but it wasn’t really a question since he was sure the woman he had hired to find him an acceptable wife would follow his instructions regardless if they were presented as a question. She understood the implied command. By the time he reached his next meeting, the thought of his upcoming nuptials was already out of his mind. Although he was perfectly agreeable to pay for the wedding, he expected his soon to be fiancée to plan the event without his involvement. He would introduce her to his extremely efficient secretary with instructions to work the date of ceremony in between his already scheduled business meetings. As he sat down and opened the report on his next discussion, it occurred to him that he probably should have gotten the name of the woman he was going to marry. Regardless, he had confidence that Joan would deliver a copy of the entire file to his secretary so that he could review the details at a more convenient time. Chapter 2 Eva Fontini slipped into the satin dress, zipping up the side, then efficiently pulled her hair into an elegant twist at the back of her head, smoothing out the stray curls that defied her fingers. The sapphire blue dress skimmed along her figure, not being too obvious but giving a hint of what might be beneath. She put on a bit of lipstick, a touch of mascara and then, just because she’d had a busy week, she dabbed some concealer under her eyes to hide the dark circles. She glanced at her watch and sighed. “Only three hours,” she told herself. In three hours, she’d be free to escape her parents’ party and she could be alone once again. Alone to work on her novel in peace and solitude. And secrecy. She also had some lesson plans to develop, her apartment to clean and several loads of laundry to wash. A party tonight was really the last place she wanted to be, but her parents had requested her presence here tonight so she’d come. Hopefully the evening wouldn’t be too terrible. As she heard the doorbell ring, indicating the first guests were starting to arrive, she quickly went down the stairs, stepping into place beside her parents just as the servant opened the heavy front door. In another twenty minutes, the dinner party was in full swing with only one person missing. Eva looked around, wondering why she needed to be here tonight. This wasn’t normally her type of party, and her parents had long since stopped requesting her presence at these functions. Her father had been firm about her attending though, so she’d acquiesced and donned her party shoes. Shoes that were already hurting her feet and she was wishing she could slip on her sneakers before heading to her own apartment tonight. “Thank you so much for coming,” she replied after her mother’s greeting, feeling like her face was going to crack from the pressure of her false smile. “Why am I here, Mother?” she asked during a relatively calm moment between arriving guests. Her mother looked at her, blinking in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you be here, dear?” she asked as if that were the silliest question ever asked. As the arriving guests dwindled, Eva was free to move about the room. She smiled and greeted each of the guests as she passed, but she wasn’t really interested in talking with any of them. They were friends of her parents and she didn’t feel as if she had anything in common with them. “You look lovely,” her mother said as she walked through the living room, patting Eva’s shoulder. “Why don’t you have a drink?” Eva glanced down at her glass filled with seltzer water and lime. “I already have a drink,” she said, biting her tongue with impatience. Her mother lived in a different world. One that alternated between valium and alcohol with intermittent cups of coffee to remain awake. That was not a state in which Eva wanted to exist. As she glanced at her mother’s eyes, she noted the slightly glazed look and knew that her mother had already taken something to ease the tension of the evening. Something in addition to the glass of wine in her hands that was now half empty. “Nonsense dear. A glass of seltzer water isn’t a drink, it’s a waste of a glass,” she argued, waving her hand in the air as if to dismiss seltzer water as superfluous. “Go get a glass of wine at least,” she said, but didn’t wait for a response before moving off to greet another group of guests with a gregarious, alcohol or valium induced smile. Eva shook her head at her mother’s chemical dependence and turned away, heading in the opposite direction of the bartender who was mixing drinks in one corner of the formal living room. She’d tried to pull her mother away from that method of coping, even going so far as to ask her father for help, but to no avail. Until her mother wanted out of that kind of cycle, there was nothing Eva could do. Except avoid that same fate herself, she thought with determination. Being the wife of a wealthy man wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It came with a great deal of stress and problems. The competition was fierce among her mother’s peers to be the best hostess, have the most acclaimed house and the highest earning husband. It was a superficial existence. Eva wanted more substance to her life. She took a seat on one of the ivory brocade sofas and smiled politely to the group around her. She was grateful when they accepted her into their conversation, but discussing the latest art craze wasn’t the most exciting topic. Trying to look as if she were enjoying the conversation, she smiled politely towards the speaker, but inside, she was completely unaware of what the person was saying. In her mind, she was working out the details of her latest scene in the book she was writing, trying to figure out where she was going to put the next clue or if the murderer was going to escape. Damon entered the living room and glanced around, his eyes taking it all in with a swift look. The house was acceptable, indicating that Joan’s firm had done their research accurately. This family was wealthy without being ostentatious. Old money, he thought. Good. His own investigation was accurate as well and he found himself congratulating himself on another step towards his ultimate goal. He hadn’t relied simply on Joan’s firm. Never accept only one point of reference, he’d learned over the years. He didn’t engage with the other guests immediately, wanting to hold back and understand the party’s dynamics. He also wanted to observe the one woman he was interested in, the only reason he was attending this dinner party tonight. He spotted his quarry across the room and stood back, observing her carefully. She was very attentive, sitting up straight with a lovely profile. She was slender without being too thin which was also good. He didn’t want a wife with an eating disorder, but nor did he want one who took no pride in her appearance. His noticed with admiration that his future wife smiled in what seemed like the correct places of the conversation and encouraged others to talk instead of dominating the discussion. He liked that and respected her social skills. His needed a woman who would be a social asset and she would have to understand how to make other people feel important and welcome. With a nod of approval, he moved off to find the woman’s father, ready to be introduced to his future wife. “Good evening, George,” Damon said to the tall, refined looking gentleman standing in a group of other men sipping scotch. George turned and looked pleased to see Damon standing beside him. “Good evening,” the older man replied with deference. “It’s certainly a pleasure that you could join us for dinner tonight,” he said and turned to make introductions to the others in the group. Damon knew most of them, having done business with them at one time or another. Several of them gave him veiled angry looks which he ignored. They hadn’t been as vigilant about their business assets and he’d taken advantage of that weakness. He couldn’t fault them for being upset about it but he wasn’t going to lose any sleep over the issue either. Besides, none would dare become blatant about their animosity, at least in his presence. The repercussions of disrespecting Damon Kelopatros meant complete financial and social destruction to anyone who openly defied or disrespected him and they all knew it. George looked at the taller man by his side and immediately waved to a passing waiter. “Let me get you a drink, and then I’ll introduce you to my daughter. I believe she’s around here somewhere.” Eva smiled politely, wondering how many times a person could discuss the weather at a party without doing something odd, like breaking out in a crazy singing stunt or jumping from sofa to chair and seeing how many heads she could turn. Eva almost laughed out loud at that last thought, knowing she’d never do anything so insane, but it kept the smile on her face. She was on her fourth weather conversation and yes, the weather was abnormally warm for this time of the year and no, rain wasn’t expected this week, and so on and so on. She reached for her glass of seltzer water and took a long sip, relishing the cold as it slid down her throat. The bubbles at least gave her mind something to focus on, something that was more stimulating than the conversation. She was circumspectly glancing around when she saw her father out of the corner of her eye. He had broken away from the group of men he’d been talking with a moment ago and was now slowly approaching their group and pulling along a tall, intimidating man beside him. As circumspectly as possible, she watched the other man carefully, wondering who he was. He was extremely tall with broad, muscular shoulders but not like a bull dog. He was more lithe than bulky. Sensuous. Dangerous! As he moved, his tuxedo jacket slid open slightly and she could see that he had a flat stomach and very long legs. He was at least a head taller than most of the people in the room so he was easy to watch. His eyes were dark, formidable almost and his strong, square jaw had a slight five o’clock shadow, even though she suspected he’d just shaved prior to arriving at the party. His tuxedo fit him perfectly, she thought, but what did she care about something like that? She knew how easily a well designed dress could hide many flaws, she thought as she unconsciously ran a hand down her left hip. She’d always wanted to lose those last ten pounds but they stubbornly kept to her like glue on a school kid’s fingers. When her father continued to approach, Eva became nervous. The almost possessive look in the man’s eyes made her very wary and her heart started pounding. She looked away, trying to concentrate on the conversation around her but her eyes strayed once again to the taller man, surprised to find that they’d made so much progress crossing the room. For some reason she couldn’t understand, she didn’t want to meet this man. He was still halfway across the room and already her heart was pounding and her palms felt damp. How juvenile, she thought with exasperation at her own body’s reaction to a man who was still too far away to be a threat in any kind of way. Regardless, she didn’t like the look about him, and she could tell that her father was bringing him over to introduce to her. She had to escape, considering that action an urgent mission she suddenly had to make happen. Someone in another cluster of guests put a hand on her father’s arm, slowing him down slightly. When her father looked away, she smiled to the rest of the group around her and patted the elderly woman’s arm next to her. “Excuse me. I think my mother needs me.” She gracefully stood up and quickly moved in the opposite direction, not bothering to glance back towards her father just in case that man was still watching her. She efficiently worked her way around the perimeter of the room, smiling and waving to her parents’ friends and guests, weaving in and out of groups but making sure to look like she was on a mission, which deterred people from stopping her. She made it all the way into the kitchen and was grateful for the reprieve, feeling trapped and frightened simply because her father wanted to introduce her to another man. He did this all the time so what was different about this one man? Okay, so he was much more handsome than the others, and definitely taller, more muscular. But that only indicated that he was probably gay, which should have relieved her mind. But she knew he wasn’t. The man with the intent gaze and amusement lurking on his firm lips was definitely heterosexual. There was too much male interest in his gaze for her to dismiss the man as innocuous. He was dangerous and she was determined to avoid him for the rest of the evening. Standing by the kitchen door and out of the way of the catering staff, she fanned herself for a few moments and let the sounds from the waiters and waitresses create a bubble around her while she calmed her shaking hands. This was ridiculous, she told herself. The guy was probably married, and her father just was being polite by trying to provide an introduction. But her father wouldn’t have gone to so much effort to introduce her to a married man. Her father was quite determined to get her married off as soon as he could, frustrated that his single daughter had thwarted all his efforts to rectify this situation prior to now. He wanted her married and stated the intention often enough that Eva knew when the diatribe was coming. Preferably to a nice, reliable Greek man who would help him in business. Eva’s father was old fashioned, believing in arranged marriages and mutually beneficial relationships. Ugh! Why couldn’t she get that man’s heated gaze out of her mind? The look he gave her that last time had really shaken her. It was what those silly romance novels would describe as “bedroom” eyes. Or knowing, powerful eyes. Eyes that took possession of anything they wanted. “There you are!” her mother said as she passed through from the opposite door. “Why are you hiding here in the kitchen? We’re about to sit down to dinner and your father has been looking for you for the past ten minutes. He wants to introduce you to someone. Come along, dear,” her mother said and looped her arm through Eva’s, pretending to be the ultimate, loving mother who had a fabulous, close relationship with her daughter. In reality, her mother only needed Eva’s arm to hold her up and walk straight. Her mother wasn’t just tipsy, she was flat out drunk, she realized. Thankfully, only Eva noticed. And probably her father who tossed out his obligatory disapproving look and then completely ignored his wife for the remainder of the evening. At least her mother knew how to hide her inebriation well enough. Maybe the start of dinner was a good thing, Eva thought. It would get some food into her mother and dilute some of the alcohol, slow down the inebriation process. Eva walked her mother to the dining room where the guests were already taking their seats. She escorted her mother to the end of the table, then noted she was seated midway down among the guests. Thankfully, that arrogant man she’d been trying to avoid was on the end nearest her father, so Eva was saved from needing to be polite to him during the meal. As the other guests moved into the dining room, she was careful to glance only at those who would be near her during the meal, meticulously keeping her gaze away from “him”. When everyone was finally settled, the wait staff came through with the first course and Eva relaxed, sipping her wine and smiling through the conversations. She’d learned early on in life that one really only needed to ask a few pointed questions to dinner guests and they would fill in the silence. The best question to ask was, “How are your children doing?” and that would fill in the next thirty minutes while the person regaled the people closest about their children’s foibles or accomplishments. Damon surreptitiously watched Eva from his end of the table, impressed once again with her social skills while his target worked the people around her. She encouraged them to talk and had most of them laughing although he couldn’t hear what they were saying since he was farther away. He turned to the people next to him and asked the elderly woman to his right how her grandchildren were doing in school. While the white haired woman talked about her youngest grandchild’s attempts to learn to walk, Damon glanced down the table, considering how long it would take before the lovely woman could organize the wedding. Just watching her, even from a distance, had his body stirring and he knew that he was going to enjoy their wedding night. He acknowledged that he’d made a good choice with this one and made a mental note to thank Joan for a job well done. There were many things about Eva that he already appreciated, including her delightful profile and her lush figure encased in that sapphire gown. Eva wasn’t stick skinny but was curvaceous in all the right places, a preference he hadn’t realized he wanted until now. He’d watched Eva sneak away earlier and had appreciated the glimpse of her sumptuous hips and long legs, emphasized by the blue dress she was wearing which was both elegant and conservative, a style which he heartily approved. If anyone was going to see his wife, he wanted it to be himself. He definitely didn’t want a wife who displayed her charms for strangers to ogle. It was good that he was attracted to his fiancée although he knew it wasn’t a prerequisite. He wanted several children so he was relieved that he wouldn’t abhor climbing into bed to procreate with his wife. He hadn’t anticipated giving up his mistresses, but with Eva, he would at least be interested in his wife for a while before finding his next mistress. The Tycoon’s Misunderstood Bride Chapter 1 Emma watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground, the feeling of freedom seeping into her bones with every turn of the crank. And she felt guilty. But she couldn’t feel anything else for the man who had died. He’d killed any soft feelings she might have had for him over the last twenty five years. The air was cold and the freezing mist that drizzled on the funeral attendees only made the whole burial ritual more uncomfortable. There weren’t very many, Emma noted. Only a handful in fact. As she stole glances at the grave side mourners, she counted only about fifteen people. Almost all of them were employees of her father, the man who was now being lowered into the frozen, unforgiving ground. Appropriate, she thought since her father had been hard, cold and completely unforgiving of any transgression, no matter how small. Emma knew that she should be feeling sorrow and grief for the man who had raised her but those emotions just wouldn’t come. Hatred, anger, desperation and humiliation were the only feelings her father had engendered within her while he was alive. And now that he had passed away, the main emotion she was feeling was relief. And freedom. A small portion of her heart was even having that painful emotion; hope. It was small, tiny. But as she passed by the deep, heartless grave and tossed dirt onto the coffin, and as each person passed by and did the same, that small light of hope grew. Was it possible that the life she’d lived with her father was finally over? Could she genuinely be free of his ridicule and harsh words? Emma breathed in a lung full of the cold, wintery air, letting her body absorb the fact that her father was finally dead. The possibilities for her future loomed up in her mind, crowding her imagination and jumbling that ray of hope into a larger light that was starting to fill her up. She tried to tamp it down, knowing that each time she’d started to feel hope in the past, it had been mercilessly killed by some sort of diabolical scheme of her father’s. It didn’t matter that he was dead. The fear that somehow, some way, he would figure out how to destroy that tiny bit of hope was there in the back of her mind, pressuring her to release the kernel and give in to the depression and frustration that had been her life prior to his demise. The words he’d taunted her with over and over while he’d been alive came back to haunt her and if it weren’t for her early childhood, she might start to believe them. She had to hang on though! She had to survive and thrive, just to spite that mean, vindictive man! Her father had tormented her from the moment her mother had left them twenty years ago, leaving a grief-stricken Emma to deal with the harsh father that had driven her mother away with his cruel tirades and accusations. Emma remembered the screaming and the allegations but as a small child, she hadn’t understood them. She’d only understood the fear that had her hiding under her blankets at night, covering her ears as the fights raged on after she’d been put to bed. As an adult, she understood that her father had been insanely jealous of her beautiful mother, the red haired and intensely gorgeous Elizabeth, and his constant accusations of unfaithfulness had driven her away. But why had her mother left Emma? Of all the things that had hurt over the years, Emma knew that her mother’s abandonment had been the most painful. Her memories of her mother were bitter-sweet. She had soft hands, a ready laugh, twinkling eyes and continually smelled of flowers. In Emma’s mind, her mother had always been incredibly gorgeous, with lots of hugs and kisses at the ready for any hurt feelings or bruised knees. Emma had been carefree during those days, knowing that her mother would always be there for her. Not only did the five year old Emma lose her mother on that horrible day, but she’d also gained the continuous censure of her father. Once her mother had fled, Edward Mason the Third, Earl of Denton, had turned his anger and humiliating accusations onto his daughter who had turned out to be the spitting image of her mother, according to Edward Mason. Oh, Emma knew that she wasn’t the raving beauty her mother had been although she only had one, stolen picture to remember her by. After Emma’s mother had left, Edward destroyed all the other pictures of her that had been in the house, including a portrait that had been specially commissioned after their wedding by a world famous painter. Besides demoralizing and humiliating Emma on a continuous basis, Edward Mason had been a bitter, evil man who had made millions of pounds by cheating and stealing in his business dealings. Emma had overheard him on numerous occasions laughing in his study with one person or another about how he had cheated someone or lied to another in order to scrape another million pounds together. The first time she’d overhead his laughter she’d been horrified that he was so amoral. She’d been hiding from him that morning to avoid his wrath, which could be invoked for anything including a wisp of hair being out of place or her eyes looking happy. When she’d started to understand how unethical he was with his business dealings, she’d shunned away from that information. Unfortunately, living in the same house with the man and hearing him brag about his felonious activities, it was hard to avoid seeing his truly black soul. It always amazed her that he’d never been caught. He’d been so blatant about his business dealings, she would have thought that eventually someone would have figured out what an awful person he’d been and not done business with him. She also didn’t understand why the authorities had turned a blind eye to all of his tricks. But in all the times she’d hidden away in a closet as a child or teenager, she never heard of anyone who had bested her father. bragging about his deeds. He’d taken delight in These thoughts and many others floated through her mind as the funeral progressed. She didn’t hear the words, didn’t mourn the passing of the man so much as the passing of her life under his dictatorial and cruel parentage. So when the final words broke through her contemplation, she was surprised that the ceremony was finally over. The minister came over and took Emma’s hands, offering his condolences. Then each of the other guests who had attended the funeral, one by one, they came over and did the same before moving off to their vehicles and driving away. Emma accepted their words and hoped that her face was appropriately somber. But that strange feeling was growing inside of her. Hope. Was it possible? Could she actually have a life? Was it possible that she could move on to something new? Something fresh? Something untainted by her father’s despicable mind? Could she actually be a reflection of her mother instead of carrying on her father’s legacy? She’d had her mother for only five years and her father for twenty, minus the periods when she’d been away at boarding school. She’d just have to recall her mother’s goodness and kindness, countering all of her father’s heartlessness. One after another, the people stood in front of her, offering words of sympathy that Emma neither needed nor wanted but she nodded and smiled, eager to be off and consider the possibilities of what she could now do with her life. “Ms. Mason,” a strong, tanned hand reached down and gently clasped her cold white one. The touch sent an electric shock through her fingers and Emma was so startled, she actually looked up, directly into the handsome man’s eyes. He was tall! Definitely over six feet. His face was tanned with lines in the corners of his eyes as if he laughed a lot. But his dark, black eyes weren’t smiling now. They were looking at her as if he were trying to see into her soul. Emma’s mouth opened and she almost gasped, a tingle of fear shooting through her and she was afraid he might be able to read her small light of happiness. “My name is Jason Montenegro. I worked with your father several years ago. I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said. The words were spoken but Emma didn’t want them. She wasn’t sorry, except for all the horrible things her father had done. Not just to her, but to anyone around him. “Thank you. You have kind words,” she recited the same thing she’d been saying over and over again to the others as they’d passed by her. Emma looked around but they were now alone except for the bulldozer operator who was waiting to push the remaining dirt onto the coffin and finalize the end of an evil man’s life. “Mr. Montenegro,” she replied, her fingers shaking and a shiver of awareness sped down her spine. “I think I do remember you. I believe you came to the house several times for meetings with my father. What are you doing here?” she asked. “It has been a long time,” she replied. “Yes, it has.” Jason Montenegro looked down at the defeated beauty of Emma Mason, trying to determine if she mourned the passing of her father. She probably didn’t know what a bastard he was, Jason thought. And he wasn’t going to tell her. He’d been called three days ago to be told about the death of Edward Mason from the old man’s solicitor. Something about Mason’s will and how Jason needed to be there for the reading. At the moment of the call, Jason considered simply disconnecting the line and ignoring the command performance for the reading of the will. But something had stopped him. It was the gentle innocence of Edward Mason’s daughter he remembered from twelve years ago. Edward Mason had given Jason his first job out of college and Jason had been thrilled, eager to learn the ropes of corporate takeovers and management. Edward Mason had built an empire that had impressed Jason at twenty two. In those years, he ate, breathed and slept Mason Enterprises for two, long years before Jason understood exactly how Edward had made so many millions. And with that understanding, Jason found that he had wanted nothing to do with it. Jason still remembered that rainy afternoon when Edward had ordered him to lie about a target company to the board of directors in order to gain final approval for the acquisition. The rage that filled the office that afternoon when Jason had refused had been intense. And when Jason tendered his resignation the following day, Edward had promised that Jason would never work in the industry again. Now, twelve years later, Jason could have bought and sold Edward Mason several times over if he had the inclination. Montenegro Industries was worldwide and Jason’s business acumen was reported on almost daily in one newspaper or another, depending on what country he was working in at that moment. His accomplishments had far outweighed Edward’s conglomerate, a fact which Edward had hated, Jason knew. Jason was just as ruthless as Edward Mason but the difference was that Jason never broke the law or lied. He used intelligence and cutthroat business tactics but they were all ethical and always passed audits. He had, in fact, become the darling of the business world whereas Edward Mason had burned too many people with his business practices and, recently, had become known in business circles as a pariah to be avoided. As the drizzle increased to rain, Jason looked down at the shy woman who was shivering from the cold and remembered how he’d felt the first time he’d seen Emma Mason. Twelve years ago, he’d seen the small, red haired teenager in a dress three sized too big for her as she scurried down the hallway. She hadn’t seen him outside her father’s office but he’d seen her. And he’d watched in horror as her huge green eyes monitored her father’s door. She was almost out of sight when Edward Mason’s door opened but Jason hadn’t been watching the office door. He’d been watching Emma Mason and had to swallow the lump in his throat when the small, terrified girl dashed into a closet, closing the door only seconds before her father appeared in the same hallway. The idea that a man’s daughter would be so terrified of him that she would hide! And in a closet dammit! It had sickened Jason that day. If it hadn’t been for that scene, Jason never would have started looking into Edward’s business practices more closely and he wouldn’t be where he was today. He remembered the way Edward had looked at him that afternoon. Jason hadn’t had time to look away from the closet fast enough and Edward’s eyes had gone from Jason’s, to the then-closed door. Nothing had happened, but Jason saw the narrowing of the older man’s eyes, as if he knew that Jason had seen something he shouldn’t have. Emma pasted a false smile on her face, wondering if it were possible for cheeks to freeze from the cold. “Well, it is good to see you again. Thank you for stopping by,” she said and walked to her waiting car. Jason watched the tiny woman disappear into the back seat of the black sedan. As she stepped in, her long dress pulled up slightly and he was given a glimpse of one shapely leg, the calf encased in black stockings, was slender with a dainty ankle and small feet. Jason’s eyes narrowed, curiosity firing in him. What was going on? Why would a woman with legs that lovely hide them under long, woolen skirts like that? Why was she wearing those awful looking clothes? He wasn’t sure, but years of experience with the opposite sex told him that she probably had an incredible figure hiding underneath that dress. And why the hell didn’t she wear some makeup? Let her hair down? Of course, with skin like that, she didn’t really need makeup. A redhead should have freckles, but Emma Mason’s cheeks were pure, soft and blemish-free, making her long, dark lashes seem almost black as they surrounded those fascinating green eyes. Jason pushed thoughts of the mysterious woman out of his mind. This whole issue was none of his concern. He was furious with the curiosity which had driven him here today after the phone call. Edward Mason’s will was none of his concern, and the man’s daughter was better off without the father in her life to mess things up. He walked over to his own waiting car and ducked into the back. Immediately picking up his phone, he pressed the speed dial, instantly connecting with his secretary. “Betty, what’s the story on the figures for the DiMarco acquisition?” He listened for a long moment, then nodded. “Fine, have the papers on my desk by the time I get back. I should be back at the office in less than thirty minutes.” “The flowers were delivered this morning,” Betty said. “Flowers?” Jason snapped, his mind already moving on to the details of the next business meeting. He flipped open the file folder Betty had given him that morning that outlined the details. “The flowers you asked to be delivered to Ms. Stephanie Michaels this morning,” Betty reminded him. “Ah,” Jason said, ignoring the issue of his now-past mistress and moving on to more current issues. He’d asked Betty to send some flowers but had immediately dismissed it from his mind moments after he’d given the command. “Fine, thank you. What about Tom Daniels? Has he called back?” “Of course. He’s confirmed that the package was delivered and all the terms were accepted.” “Good.” Jason eased back in his seat, a feeling of success washing over him as yet another company joined the Montenegro conglomerate. But that moment passed and he went through the details of five other deals that were currently in the works. Montenegro Industries bought companies and incorporated them under the larger umbrella, cutting the fat, trimming down the superfluous employees and making all of the systems more efficient and profitable. Each additional company was bought in order to somehow benefit the others, making the Montenegro machine more and more powerful. “How was the funeral?” Betty asked when Jason stopped giving her directions fifteen minutes later. “The funeral?” Jason asked absently. He heard a small sigh, before, “The funeral of Edward Mason?” she reminded him. “You mentioned you were going to stop by earlier today.” “Oh. Yes, fine,” he replied. The memory of a slender, sexy leg and shy green eyes popped into his head. But he pushed it aside and rattled off a new list of things for Betty to finalize. He hung up and sat back, reading through the file, his sharp mind memorizing every detail as soon as he read it. By the time Tim, his driver, pulled up in the underground garage of Montenegro Industries headquarters, Jason had already moved on to the meeting. Chapter 2 Coming home after the funeral, Emma walked into her father’s study, looking around in curiosity. She had never been permitted in this office while her father had been alive. She’d only had glimpses when the door cracked open. But if she’d been near, Emma had been too terrified of her father finding her to stop and peer inside. Her life’s goal had been to become invisible. Whenever he caught sight of her, a lecture or some sort of perceived misdeed was brought down upon her. And punishments always followed. Edward Mason never hit his daughter. No, that could be too easily discovered by the bruises or the marks. He’d always been more evil than that. There were times Emma had wished he’d hit her. For then, perhaps the punishment would be over or maybe she would black out. But God was never that compassionate. Emma had endured seemingly endless hours of lectures about how she had been born from a slut but he would not allow her to become one herself. He would order her to accompany him on a function but if she dared to look at a man, even if he spoke directly at her, Emma would be banished to her room, sometimes without food for days. Later, when he arranged dates for her, he would accompany her on the activity himself and would always find fault with her demeanor or conduct. During her teen years, one of the punishments she’d “endured” had been banishment to an all girls’ boarding school. She had thrived during those four years of high school, making friends for the first time, learning new things, being out in the open more often when she’d dared to join a sports team. She had spent almost every second of her spare time studying, fearful that even one low grade would have her brought back to her father’s merciless supervision but she’d absolutely loved the four years during which she’d been sent away from her father’s heavy presence. University was almost as good but she was required to attend closer to home. According to her father, she was becoming too independent and needed a man to guide her as she moved into adulthood. And since he was the only trustworthy man capable of defending her virtue, she lived at home and was chauffeured to all her classes. The solicitor cleared his throat and Emma snapped out of her memories. She smiled an apology, then quickly glanced down, afraid the solicitor would think she was coming on to him as well. The thought occurred to her that her father was no longer around to punish her, but years of training couldn’t be pushed away only three days after his death. The solicitor, Mr. Bernstein, was obviously uncomfortable. “I apologize for the odd requirements of your father’s will, Ms. Mason,” he was saying. Emma’s eyes snapped up quickly. It was the first sense that she had that something was wrong. Something terribly, terribly wrong. The small ray of hope that had been building for the past hour was flickering. “Please, let’s just move along,” Emma said softly. She dropped her eyes, afraid the anger and despair she was feeling would show in her eyes. Emma didn’t know what her father could do to her from the grave, but she braced herself for the pain he was about to inflict. “Ahem,” Mr. Bernstein said again, “According to your father’s last will and testament, all of his money will be held in trust for his grandson.” Mr. Bernstein straightened his glasses, the movement indicating his discomfiture with the terms. “Ms. Emma Mason will have access to the funds for six month, allowing her time to plan her wedding. After that point, she will have access only after she has become pregnant with a son, a sonogram being needed to verify the gender of the child. This son must come from the union of Mr. Jason Montenegro and Ms. Emma Mason and a DNA test will need to be confirmed once the child is born.” Emma’s body froze in fear and dread. The horror was too much and she bowed her head in shame for her father’s terms. Without hesitation, she shook her head. “I’ll forego the money. You can give it to charity or whatever he stipulates if I don’t comply with the terms.” Mr. Bernstein’s face turned red and Emma knew that the nightmare was only beginning. “He left a letter for you in case you insist on ignoring his dying orders.” An envelope was pulled out from under some papers and handed to Emma. She took the white envelope wish shaking fingers, determined to not fall victim to her father any longer. Unfortunately, her father was more diabolical than she could ever have imagined. With a stiff chin, Emma read the words, her heart breaking as once again her father won the battle. The words were horrible and just as vicious as she remembered him being. Emma – if you are reading this then that means you have scorned my wealth once again. You are an ungrateful, evil child who will definitely rot in hell for all the anguish you have caused me over the years with your promiscuous ways. Knowing that there is more than one currency for everyone, I have endeavored to find a way that will ensure your compliance with my will. In anticipation of your behavior, I have set aside certain clues that will allow you to find your slut of a mother. Each clue will be given to you once you reach certain milestones. Marrying Mr. Jason Montenegro will give you the key to a storeroom where all of your mother’s belongings were taken after her departure. Conception of a child will allow you to have her diary. It is from this that I have been able to identify her current location. At that point, you should come to your senses and realize that my money will ensure the security of your child. But if it does not, and you have not located your mother by that point, there is one final clue which will be given to you once you deliver my grandson. Just so you know, your mother has been fighting for custody of you ever since her ill-thought out departure. I have been ultimately successful in keeping her filthy, cheating hands off of you One more thing. You can try and search her out yourself. I warn you though that, given all my resources, it took me seven years to find her on my own, even while she was fighting for custody. The bitch has herself well hidden. Mind me well, daughter. The fastest way to find your mother is to obey my will. Sincerely yours Edward Mason Emma crumpled the paper in her hands, her whole body working to maintain control and not release the tears of anger and frustration which welled up inside her with her father’s words. Love By Accident Series - An Introduction The Beginning... Nine year old Rashid looked at the pink and pudgy thing in his mother’s arms, disgusted and irritated. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to get back to his studies. His instructor was just telling him how to calculate an angle which was much more fascinating than whatever this...thing...was. “It’s a girl,” he said with nine year old disdain and stepped back from the bed where his mother was laying with the ‘thing’ in her arms. He didn’t know why she wanted anyone else in the family. The three of them were just fine! Lila, Rashid’s mother laughed softly and nodded her head. “You’re very smart,” he teased. “She’s a girl and she’s very interested in meeting you.” Lila looked down at her already handsome son with pride, understanding that he felt as if this new baby might usurp his place in her heart. She had to be gentle so that he knew that she loved him just as much as before the birth of their new baby. Rashid glanced down once again, noting that the eyes in the round, pink face were closed. He discarded the notion that the baby was even remotely interested in meeting him. “I believe it’s more concerned with sleep mother,” he said carefully, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but still not interested in his new baby sister. “Besides, I wanted a brother. Not a sister.” Lila glanced up at the man standing at the end of the hospital bed with amusement. Majid El Hasham Busain, current Sheik of Tasain and one of the most handsome men she’d ever met in her life, looked down at his first born son with pride and amusement as well. When Lila looked back at her son, still standing stiffly beside the bed and pretending to not be interested in the baby girl, she chuckled. “Why would I want another boy? I have a perfect son with you,” she replied and leaned over to kiss his dark hair. Rashid sighed, leaning in to the kiss and stepping closer to his mother. “What are you going to call it?” he asked, trying to get into the spirit of the occasion. Since they were alone in the room, he accepted her affection but he didn’t like it when others might see him. They might think he was weak if they knew how much he liked his mother’s hugs and kisses and that couldn’t be allowed. His father had told him over and over again how a ruler must never show weakness. And the people of Tasain loved his father, almost as much as he did, so the invincible man must be doing something right. His father smiled down at his slightly larger family, beaming with delight. “Her name is Isla and she’s going to love you just as much as we do, son.” Rashid felt better when his tall, strong father walked to the side of the bed next to him. “Will it cry?” Rashid asked carefully, slipping his hand into his father’s larger one, feeling better when his dad’s warm, strong hand wrapped around his smaller one. His mother laughed softly. “Your sister isn’t an ‘it’, dear. And yes, Isla doesn’t know how to talk yet so the only way she can tell us she’s hungry or uncomfortable is by crying.” Rashid leaned against his father’s strong leg. “I still don’t understand why you wanted a baby,” he grumbled. He didn’t see the look cross between his mother and father because he was watching as the pink bundle moved, her lips pouting together and one hand reaching out as if to touch him. Her eyes were still closed so he wasn’t sure what she was doing, but he reluctantly agreed that pink wasn’t such a bad color, as long as it was on a girl. Eight years later.... “Come on!” Rashid called out, pulling eight year old Isla along behind him. “You’ve got to see this!” he said. Isla ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, but her older brother was much taller. She hoped she could be as tall as he was when she got to be seventeen but she knew she had a long way to go before she could match her beloved brother. Well, she loved him today. That wasn’t always the case. Sometimes she just wanted to punch him but knew she shouldn’t. She did on occasion though. And only when he wasn’t expecting it because Rashid was fast and strong. The last time she’d done something to him, he’d caught her and tickled her until she was crying, which she didn’t like. But most of the time, he was pretty nice. Especially when he helped her with her homework. He had a lot of patience with her then. “Just trust me,” he said, his deep voice and broad shoulders already more than matching his father’s. In fact, they were the spitting image, except that Rashid was now slightly taller. Isla’s brother was extremely protective of his baby sister, especially since she’d transformed from a pink pudgy ball into a little girl he could play tricks on and he could talk to, when he wasn’t talking with his father about everything from politics to economics. “Is it mother?” Isla asked, concerned because she’d gotten so big lately. “Has the baby come yet?” “You’ll have to wait and see,” he said, only slightly disappointed that she’d guessed so accurately. Most of the time, he enjoyed his sister’s intelligence. He was glad she wasn’t one of those irritating girls who only thought about shoes and clothes. Isla was smart and picked up on her lessons quickly. Otherwise, he would stay away from her as much as possible. He really disliked women who were brainless and there were enough of them in the world! Well, there were stupid men too, but he was thinking about the soft, sexy women and the way he liked to kiss them. A horrible thought occurred to him and he stopped in the middle of the hallway. Isla stopped as well and looked up at him and he was startled to realize that his little sister was going to be a great beauty. Would some other man do to her the things he thought about doing to other women? The idea of his sweet little sister in the arms of another man suddenly enraged him. “What’s wrong, Rashid?” Isla asked, suddenly worried about the furious expression on his face. He’d been so excited a moment ago, what had changed? Rashid started to say something, his hand tightening on his arm as he looked down at her innocent expression. “Don’t ever...” he started off, but stopped himself. He knew that his sister would eventually marry, but he gritted his teeth with determination. She wouldn’t marry some jerk! Or someone like him, who....well, just not someone who would think of doing things to her that he thought of doing to other women. Things like kissing and touching their breasts, of moving inside.... No! She would be protected from that! She was sweet and innocent. She shouldn’t even think about having sex, much less doing it. His mind always seemed to be thinking about sex and women and how lovely they were and how soft and pretty. Dammit! He had a responsibility towards his little sister, and now there were two of them! What was a man to do? Father would know, he thought to himself. Rashid knew he’d have a talk with his father as soon as possible. He had to protect his sisters now! “Rashid?” Isla prompted when she saw his jaw clench. She put her hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him as best she could. “Are you ill? Should I call a doctor?” Her mind frantically went through the possibilities but he didn’t have any of the symptoms she’d read about in the medical books she’d snuck out of the palace library. She read them in secret, thinking they were the most fascinating things to read. But none of them helped her right at the moment. She couldn’t discern any problems with Rashid and that scared her. Just as suddenly as his ager came, Isla saw his face clear up and he smiled down at her. “It’s nothing. I just thought of something I need to discuss with dad.” He squeezed her hand to reassure her. “I promise, it’s nothing I can’t take care of.” Isla smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. He was right. Rashid could do anything and if he had trouble, father was always there to advise him. She sometimes became irritated with their discussions because they were always filled with boring talk of politics and money or buildings. That was so boring! But they liked it, so she tried very hard to keep quiet when they were intently arguing their side during a conversation. Rashid pulled her along again and they were walking as quickly as possible towards the area where the palace hospital was located. The closer they got, the more concerned she became. At the hospital room door, he looked down at her with an eager expression, then shoved open the door to allow her entrance. Isla looked inside the room and saw her mother and father. “Mother, why are you in here?” she asked, more than a little worried because everything looked strange here. The bed wasn’t comfortable like the one at the palace, and the people all were wearing strange clothes, very plain and dull. She peered over the high bed, ignoring her mother and father’s huge grins. Something was wiggling and she wanted to see. “What’s that?” she asked as she noticed the baby. “It looks like a baby. Is that what was in your tummy?” she asked curiously. Lila laughed and nodded her head. Patting the side of the bed, she encouraged her daughter to get a better look. Rashid came over and lifted his little sister up high. “Isn’t she pretty?” her mother asked, her long, tapered finger running down the chubby cheek of the newborn. Isla looked down, wondering what it was her mother and father saw in the baby. “She looks squished,” she replied. Lila looked at her husband and they both laughed. “She’ll get pretty, just like you,” Majid said and took his daughter out of his son’s arms. “Go ahead and hold her, Rashid. You never held Isla when she was a baby so this is your chance.” Majid came over and lifted Isla into Rashid’s arms, not giving him an excuse to avoid holding his newest baby sister. He then reached down and picked up Isla, wanting her to see the new baby as well. Isla giggled as her father nuzzled her neck, but she watched with rapt attention as her fabulous brother gently held the tiny bundle that had been their mother’s arms. His face slowly changed from wariness to fascination as the tiny bundle opened her eyes and looked up at him. Rashid looked down at the tiny infant, amazed that such a small human could actually survive. “She’s so small!” he gasped. Majid tickled his daughter. “Your brother was that size once,” he said and laughed again at her disbelieving expression. “I have pictures,” he said. Isla looked from her giant father, to her huge brother and shook her head, crinkling up her nose. “Na ah,” she argued. “Rashid was never a baby.” Rashid just rolled his eyes and handed the infant back to his mother. “I’ve received word back,” he said, his tone ominous and he looked carefully at his little sister. “I’ve decided to accept Harvard’s offer. I think they’re the best school for business, which is what I think I should study for Tasain’s future.” Isla didn’t understand what he was talking about. “What’s Harvard? And what did they offer you?” Rashid’s father pumped up with pride. “I know you’ll do very well there, son.” Isla didn’t like where this was going. Something was happening and she was instantly nervous. Her little arm went around her father’s neck, holding him tighter because her father always protected her from bad things, even scaring away the monsters in her closet when she suspected they’d snuck back into the palace. “What’s he going to do?” Lila shifted her newborn daughter in her arms. “He’s going to school, dear.” “But he goes to school here. We’re in the same class.” Majid shook his head. “Next year, your big brother will be going away to school.” She didn’t like that at all. “Will I be going too?” Rashid shook his head. “You’ll have to stay here and take care of our baby sister. Just like I took care of you, Isla. Zarah is going to need you to show her how to do things.” Isla felt very important all of a sudden and looked at the baby in her mother’s arms. “Will she listen better than I do?” Rashid laughed, as did her mother and father. “I certainly hope so.” Eight Years Later.... “Rashid!” Isla yelled out, immediately dropping her pencil to race across the school room, throwing herself into her brother’s arms. “You’re home!” she cried out, excited to see her older brother once again. “I can’t believe you’re finally home!” Rashid grabbed his sister in a giant bear hug. “I’ve missed you too, brat,” he said with deep emotion. He’d missed home and his sisters, his parents and all the wonderful scents that were co-mingled with his life and memories here in Tasain. He loved this country and his family had always been the center of his life. He was sincerely glad to be back for good this time. “My turn!” Zarah called out, stomping her foot impatiently when her older sister wouldn’t let go of their brother. “Just because you turned sixteen doesn’t mean you get to hog him all to yourself,” she said, glaring at her sister’s back. Isla pulled back from her brother and grimaced up at him. “She’s been a beast these past few weeks waiting for you.” Rashid looked down over his sister’s head and spied the little grouch behind her. “So you’ve been misbehaving, have you?” Zarah’s face went from angry to horrified in seconds. “I have not!” she gasped. The tears formed in her pretty eyes and Rashid couldn’t take the possibility of hurting her feelings. “I was just teasing, little one. Come here,” he said and bent down with his arms wide open. When her little body hurtled into his arms, he pretended to fall backwards with the impact as she giggled her delight. He wrapped an arm around her back, protecting her as they tumbled to the marble floor and he laughed along with her. As he looked up, he saw a tall figure glaring down at him and his grin widened. “Hello dad,” he said, not bothering to get up off the floor since the eight year old Zarah seemed to be in no mood to release him. “I can’t move with Zarah on top of me, sir,” he explained. Majid looked at his oldest, sprawled on the floor with his daughter’s legs straddling his chest. “She does look like quite the victor,” he replied. Zarah jumped up, grinning from ear to ear and reached her hand out to assist her huge, older brother to his feet. “So I won this round?” she asked excitedly. She’d sparred with her sister on several occasions but never with her brother, although she’d watched him on many occasions during his breaks while sparring with his trainers. Rashid was magnificent as he fought all of them, sometimes more than one at a time. He was slowly learning to best all of them and she cheered him on whenever she was allowed to watch. She’d never beat her sister yet, but there was still time. She had high hopes that she could eventually be skilled enough to best both of them. She might be small, but she knew she was faster than both of them. And she was meaner, she thought to herself. Isla rolled her eyes and shook her head. “He let you win, silly.” Rashid winked down at the deflated little girl. “Not true. She won fair and square.” “Your mother is waiting impatiently for your return,” his father explained with a look that told Rashid that he needed to make haste to his mother’s office or face dire consequences. Rashid laughed as he bowed to his father. “I’m positive that she’ll have some sort of horrible punishment if I don’t greet her immediately.” He turned to his sisters. “Will you both come with me?” The four of them walked down the hallway towards the greenhouse. Sure enough, as soon as Rashid walked through the door, his mother rushed into his arms to hug him, but with a great deal more decorum than her daughters. “You’re home! Oh, goodness, it’s wonderful to see you again!” “Hello, mother,” Rashid said formally, bowing once she’d stepped back. Lila looked at her oldest child, surveying his appearance to check for any signs of stress or problems. “How have you been? Have you been eating well? Not staying out too late with your rowdy friends from school, I hope?” Rashid laughed softly and kissed her beautiful, still wrinkle free cheek. “I’ve been well. Have these two rug rats been driving you crazy?” he asked, referring to Isla and Zarah who were standing just behind him. Lila laughed and shook her head. She opened her arms and both girls came to her side. “Just for the past few weeks waiting for you to finish your final exams and turn in all your papers.” She hesitated for a moment. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be there for your graduation this time,” she said softly, her eyes filling with tears. Rashid shook his head. “I understand, mom. I knew you were there in spirit,” he assured her. He looked down at his sisters. “Besides, these two sent me enough letters and e-mails so that I got homesick!” he ruffled Zarah’s hair and chucked Isla underneath her chin. Knowing how to get even with them, he teased, “Have you chosen their husbands yet, dad?” Majid sighed and slumped into a chair. “As if I could!” he stated, exasperation in every syllable. “Don’t you dare!” Lila admonished, shaking her finger at her husband. “They’re way too young. Let them live a little before they have to deal with the insanity of a husband, or even the prospect of one!” Majid opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it just as quickly when he saw his wife’s stern gaze. He knew better than to bring up this subject with her. He’d tried on several occasions, explaining that they could form alliances early by simply betrothing the girls to their future husbands while letting them have their freedom now. It was done in every ruling family but she would have nothing to do with it. She’d been his betrothed since birth and it was just a stroke of incredible luck that they fell in love at first site. After meeting her when he was twenty-five, he’d never wanted another woman. She’d been only eighteen at the time, so he’d had to wait another two years before making her his bride, but he’d never regretted a moment of their time together. Now, twenty-six years later, he still loved her just as much as that first day. “I’m never getting married,” Zarah proclaimed and plopped herself down in one of the brocade covered chairs in her mother’s office, crossing her arms over her chest with an emphatic nod. “Boys are gross.” “Hey!” her brother called out as he poured himself and his father a glass of bourbon. “You’re not a boy,” Zarah giggled. “You’re my brother!” “Has Rashid’s bride been chosen?” Isla asked, sitting more primly on the edge of another chair, looking curiously at her parents. She saw Rashid stiffen slightly, but then he relaxed and looked at his parents curiously. Lila looked to Majid, trying to hide her concern. “Your father has been offered several potential brides but to date, he’s resisted pinning anyone down.” She said that with scorn because her handsome, wonderful husband’s biggest fault was his sexist attitudes. He wanted to quickly select husbands for his daughters but wanted to let Rashid have a few more years of freedom. Majid rolled his eyes. “Woman, you know the issue there! He’s a man! He needs to...” he started to say but then stopped as he looked at his two daughters. “Well, never mind. We’ll discuss this later.” Lila accepted the chilled glass of white wine Rashid brought to her, all the while, shaking her head. “We will not discuss this further, my love.” Majid looked at his son who was holding back his amusement over the bickering of his parents. “Don’t laugh, son. Wait until you marry! I’ll bet that you’ll be manipulated just as easily by your bride as I am by mine.” Rashid bowed slightly, pretending to accept his father’s guidance. But in his mind, he knew he’d never allow a female, especially his wife, to disobey his commands. He would have a biddable wife who was beautiful and intelligent, but who would trust him and his decisions. Lila stood up and raised her hand. “Enough about your future spouses. I’m sure they will all be absolutely wonderful and I look forward to each and every one of you getting exactly the man or woman you deserve,” she said and looked darkly at her son who was arrogantly leaning against the door frame. Her look was blatantly saying that she expected his wife to be just as biddable as he was, which was not at all. “It is time for dinner and I’m truly grateful to have all of you here again at last.” Continue the story in the Love By Accident series! Rashid’s Story: The Sheik’s Pregnant Lover Isla’s Story: The Sheik’s Furious Bride Zarah’s Story: The Duke’s Runaway Princess The Sheik’s Pregnant Lover The storm approaching was extraordinary with one half of the morning sky lit up with the rising sun and the other half blazing with fierce lightening as an early morning storm quickly approached. It was a rare, meteorological event that should have captured Rashid’s attention, but his eyes were captured on something much more fascinating. The woman standing on the side of the road, bent over the hood of her car had possibly the cutest derriere he’d ever seen in his entire life. A sweet bottom like that should be on a woman much more rotund, but instead, that amazing, adorable bottom was paired with a slender waist and long, lean legs that were slightly tanned and looked to be well toned underneath the well worn denim shorts. Her lustrous, dark brown hair cascaded over one shoulder and, although he couldn’t see the face at the moment, he was hoping that her facial features would match the figure he’d been surveying for possibly the last five minutes. While Rashid Samara Bousaid, Sheik of Tasain continued his fascinated perusal, his eyes glanced up at the storm once again, then at the black smoke rising out of the obviously broken engine of the ancient car. Thinking to do the heroic act and save his damsel in distress, he nudged his stallion forward with his heels. As ruler of Tasain, he rarely had time to ride anymore so when he’d woken with a precious free hour this morning, he’d immediately thrown on a pair of old riding pants and a well worn pair of riding boots and left the house before anyone could use up this unanticipated free time. Seeing this lovely wood nymph that needed his assistance had only improved his mood. “Need some help?” Rashid asked as he stopped his horse, Zafir, at the edge of the gravel road. Sidra pulled her hand off of the filthy radiator where she’d just located the mechanical problem when she heard the deep voice. She pulled her head out from under the metal hood of the useless vehicle and looked around to identify the voice. What she saw was definitely not human, and didn’t appear to be friendly at all! She stumbled backwards once before regaining her footing and realizing that the giant, brown muzzle was part of a horse. An extremely large horse! The enormous horse was staring at her with what looked to be furious black eyes and bared teeth. When she took a step back, she realized that the horse was just standing there on the side of the road waiting and she took a deep breath, putting a hand over her rapidly beating heart. “Goodness, you startled me,” she said and peered around the horse’s head to see the man sitting in the saddle. And then her heart truly did increase in pace, feeling as though it might just fly out of her chest. As she stared at the tall, black haired man with crystal blue eyes, she just about stumbled over her feet all over again. His skin was tanned and his shoulders were almost as wide as the horse’s. Or maybe they just looked that way in the white polo shirt he was wearing. As he climbed down from the horse, her eyes were magnetized by the strong muscles flexing in his legs that she could see even through the material of his riding pants. As her eyes traveled upwards, she was even more impressed. Her mind told her to look away, but her eyes had a different opinion and she couldn’t seem to stop herself from surveying the rest of the man. Broad, muscular shoulders, very tall, and those eyes! She’d never seen that color blue before and she’d seen lots of blue eyed people in her life. Maybe it was just the tanned skin and almost black hair that made those eyes appear so incredible, but whatever the reason, the man was really quite magnificent. “I apologize for startling you,” he replied softly as he approached. “I saw you from the tree line and noticed the smoke coming from your vehicle. Do you need some help?” Sidra finally pulled her eyes away from the man, embarrassed that she’d been staring like that. Could she be more obvious, she berated herself. She looked back at the tiny vehicle she’d rented at the airport this morning upon her arrival and wanted to kick the obnoxious machine. “The alternator belt has snapped and I suspect there’s a hole in the radiator. So unless you have an extra motor belt and some soldering materials in that saddle bag, I don’t think there’s much you can do, but I appreciate your offer.” She tried to be brave and hold the man’s gaze, but he was just too tall, too intimidating and just too darn handsome. She glanced down at her clothes, wishing she was wearing something more sophisticated than jeans shorts and this plain tee-shirt. Even her hair was probably flat after having traveled most of the night on a cramped plane. Her only excuse was that it was going to be a hot day and she’d been traveling all night. Rashid had no idea what an alternator belt was and he suspected that the soldering materials would do something to fix the radiator, but wasn’t sure how. “I’m afraid I don’t have either of those, but if you tell me where you’re going, I can help you find that location.” She smiled at his formal words which were softened by the melodic accent but, coming from the United States, she suspected that perhaps most of the people in this country were pretty formal. His accent didn’t sound British, though. It was foreign, but she couldn’t place it easily and her mind wasn’t functioning in top form right at the moment. Her heart sped up crazily when he smiled that incredible smile at her and she had to glance away again, although she peeked back up at him when she found a spare bit of courage. When his eyebrows went up, she realized that he’d asked her a question and she jumped slightly. “Oh, um…yes…location.” She slammed the hood of the car closed and pulled the map off of the roof of the car. She’d spread it out earlier in an effort to try and find out where she was and how she could reach her destination. She looked back down at the map she’d been trying to figure out and pointed to her desired location. “I’m visiting a friend and I know she’s here,” Sidra said, pointing to a place on the map she’d identified at the airport, “and I think I’m here. But nothing seems to be making any sense.” Rashid looked at the map spread out on the car’s hood and, without cracking a smile, turned the map so that it was oriented properly, which meant that it was no longer upside down. With a long finger, he pointed to where she was. “If you follow this road back around,” he explained, smothering his amusement at her groan of frustration, “then you’ll be to your destination in about five minutes.” Sidra smacked her forehead and shook her head in embarrassment. “I’ve been driving around in this ridiculous rental car for the past hour! And now you’re telling me I’m only five minutes away?” “It would appear so,” he said and one side of his mouth turned up with the amusement he couldn’t hide any longer. “It’s a common mistake,” he lied, trying to make her feel better. She looked annoyed with herself but her pretty hazel eyes were looking back up at him so he tried to hide his laughter, but it was difficult. Sidra glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, feeling ridiculous in front of this incredible stranger who probably never had trouble reading a map. “Go ahead, you can laugh. I’m a directional idiot but my only excuse is that I’m not used to reading a map. I generally just plug in the location of wherever I want to go and my car’s GPS tells me to turn right or left.” She grimaced and looked away, “Or make a U turn and try again when I miss a particular turn.” Rashid laughed softly and folded her map. “Since the storm is approaching quickly and your vehicle doesn’t appear able to participate in the endeavor, perhaps you would allow me to help you reach your destination?” Sidra looked around him, staring at the giant horse, then back up at the handsome man. “I think I’ll just phone my friend and tell her where I am. She can pick me up in a few minutes. Surely she can out-drive that storm,” she said as she glanced back over her shoulder at the approaching dark clouds. Rashid chuckled at her obvious fear of his horse. She was cute in a sexy, kittenish kind of way as she looked warily at the large animal. “Nonsense,” he replied. “I promise no harm will come to you.” He turned on his heel and grabbed Zafir’s reigns. The slender woman was already backing away and shaking her head but he ignored her and threw himself into the saddle. Maneuvering Zafir alongside the woman, he simply reached down and pulled her onto his lap, then squeezed his knees to tell Zafir to move. “I’ll have you to your friend’s house in no time,” he said. Sidra clenched the man’s arms as if they were a life jacket and she could barely breathe for several moments as the horse cantered in the direction she hoped was her friend’s apartment. She wasn’t sure if her breathlessness was because she was on top of the scary horse or because her whole back was pressed against this man’s muscular chest and abdomen, his thighs pressing against the backs of her legs. “Relax,” he said a moment later, his mouth sensuously close to her ear and she shivered involuntarily. “I can’t.” “What’s your name?” Rashid asked, and pulled her higher up on his thigh to help her get more comfortable, his arm holding her around her stomach and waist. She was more slender than he’d thought, but round in all the right places. From his vantage point, he had an excellent view of her lovely breasts, the nude colored lace on the upper swell enticing him as no other lingerie had ever done before. Sidra heard his voice but honestly wished he would stop talking. His deep, husky voice was creating ripples of pleasure to shoot throughout her body and she was having a great deal of trouble concentrating on staying on top of the horse. “Sidra,” she finally whispered and tried to look off into the distance. She didn’t see the storm clouds, nor did she see the sunrise coming up over the horizon in the other direction. All she saw were his strong hands holding her even though her eyes were no longer looking downward. His arms were extremely strong and on the one hand, she felt very secure and comforted by that strength. But on the other hand, she was more aware of him as a man than she should be. It was embarrassing to feel so strongly about a man she’d just met only moments ago. “That’s a very nice name,” he replied. “Latin meaning ‘of the stars’. Very appropriate.” She turned slightly and looked up at him. “How do you know that?” she asked, then quickly pulled her eyes away. Those blue eyes were looking at her as if he could tell that she was quivering inside, as if he knew how much she wanted him to touch her! “Latin is a very basic language.” She was horrible with languages so couldn’t add anything to that comment. She supposed Latin was basic but since she could barely pass her required French courses in high school, she had to accept his word for it. “What’s your name?” “Rashid.” He didn’t bother to tell her that very few people outside of his family were allowed to call him by his first name. He could have told her his title, which was what most people used, but he didn’t want that between them. There was something about this woman that was different. He had no basis for that assumption but there was something about her that pulled at him. Something deep and invisible, but powerful. He should probably walk away from her, ignore her allure and ride in the other direction. This feeling, or perhaps instinct, was probably dangerous since he’d just met her. She could be an assassin for all he knew. But he was going with his gut on this one, which told him that she was feeling exactly as he was right at the moment. He couldn’t define it, but it felt wonderful. And she felt perfect in his arms. Sidra wanted to ask him so many questions, or perhaps just listen to his deep, sexy voice. But her mind was blank as his warm hands held her steady on the massive animal. She wasn’t even concerned about how uncomfortable she was in the saddle because she felt so wonderful wherever he was touching her. “Where are you from?” “I own a house over there,” he explained, pointing towards the east. Sidra glanced in that direction, but all she saw was a line of trees. There was a fence along parts of the tree line but she had no idea if that delineated the perimeter of his property or if it was just a random fence for one of his neighbors. “You’re not from Great Britain, are you?” she asked, her curiosity increasing the more she heard him speak. “No.” She smiled and turned slightly, looking up at him. “Are you going to tell me where you are from?” Rashid considered the possible answers. He could tell her he was from Tasain and only here on business, or he could name one of several other countries where he owned property. But for some reason, he didn’t want to lie to this beautiful woman, or even prevaricate. Evan a half truth seemed like a betrayal. Odd, he thought silently, he’d never had any qualms about stating his heritage before but with Sidra, he wanted to be just a man who was in the same area as she was. “I’m actually from Tasain.” Sidra laughed and looked forward. “I heard it’s a pretty harsh country. What do you do there?” “It’s actually a very beautiful country, if you know how to live in the dessert.” She hesitated, her fingers still holding his arms, but she no longer needed that reassurance. The man held her with confidence and strength. She simply didn’t want to stop touching him, even though he probably didn’t even realize her hands were pressing against his warm skin. “Where are you from?” he asked after a pregnant pause. Sidra was relieved. At least this was something she could talk about. “I’m from the United States.” “Which state?” She smiled. Most people either didn’t know to ask which state, or they thought everyone was from New York or California. “I live right outside of Washington, D.C.” “Maryland or Virginia?” he persisted. Sidra had to laugh and turn around. “Virginia of course.” “Why of course?” She shook her head and stared forward. “There’s just a running battle between Maryland and Virginia about which state is more beautiful. In reality, they’re equally lovely but the underlying argument rages within the confines of the metro area.” “Is it true about Virginia?” he asked softly. Sidra knew exactly what he was talking about and blushed, not sure exactly how to answer that. “I suppose there are many lovers in Virginia.” “Anyone waiting for you to come back from your European jaunt?” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No. No one.” He didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally she heard him say quietly, “Stupid men in Virginia.” The comment gave her a soft, warm glow and she secretly hugged the knowledge that he thought she was attractive. At least, that’s what she thought he might be saying to her. “And what about you? Is there someone in Tasain or back at your house that might be missing you while you’re here on business?” “How do you know I’m here on business and not for pleasure?” She turned around slightly, looking at his strong, handsome features. “For some reason, I don’t think you have a great deal of pleasure in your life.” She blushed when he raised an eyebrow at her statement and Sidra stammered out, “Well, I mean….you don’t seem like the kind of man who takes vacations.” Rashid chuckled softly, enjoying her embarrassment. She was an extremely lovely young woman, but when she blushed, her soft cheeks were even more alluring. “I suppose you’re right. And I’m here on business for the week.” She nodded her head and looked around. They were coming into the village now and she wanted to turn the horse around and have more time with him. If her directions were correct, Laura’s house was only about three blocks away. She didn’t want to leave him, even though he hadn’t assured her that he wasn’t taken by some fabulously gorgeous woman. “I don’t want to drop you off,” he said, his deep voice in her ear and his arms tightened around her waist. She smiled and bowed her head. “I don’t want to go either. You’ve been a wonderful interlude, but I’d better get to my friend’s house.” “And if I asked you to stay with me at my house?” Sidra laughed. “We just met a few moments ago,” she said, but that glow increased in intensity. Rashid sighed and steered the horse towards the area she’d said her friend resided. He didn’t mention that many women wouldn’t need to know much more about him other than his title and position before throwing themselves at him. This woman, as he’d suspected all along, was different though. He respected that much more about her but that didn’t ease the ache in his chest at the idea of giving her up to her friend. “She’s just around the corner,” Sidra said, pointing to the red building at the edge of the village that was just starting to stir for the morning. There were a few people milling about, some with coffee cups in their hand, the paperboy on his bike and a police officer walking out of the diner on the opposite corner. “Maybe I should just turn around and ride off with you in my arms. I could convince you to ride away with me in the sunset, Sidra from Virginia.” She laughed. “That doesn’t even happen in the movies.” “What do you do in Virginia?” “I’m an interior designer.” “Hmmm…” She shifted around, trying to figure out what he meant by that mumble. “What’s that for?” He shrugged his broad shoulders and pulled on the reigns to stop his horse. “I was just thinking that I might need your services soon. Some of my rooms are looking a bit dated.” Sidra smiled brightly. “I’d love to help with any projects.” He swung down over the horse but when she started to follow, he put his hand on her thigh to stop her. “This isn’t over Sidra. I want to see you again.” She looked down at him and felt happiness wash over her. “I don’t know how that’s going to be possible. Laura has been trying to get me to visit for months but things are pretty busy right now.” He put his hands on her waist and lifted her down, holding her in place while he looked into her pretty hazel eyes. “Things have a way of happening.” “You’re here!” Laura burst out of her building, her blond hair billowing out behind her as she rushed up to Sidra, throwing her arms around her in a huge hug. “I’d been expecting you an hour ago. What happened?” she asked, then turned to see the tall man standing next to her friend. “Goodness! And what have you brought for us today?” Laura asked, linking her arm with Sidra’s. Rashid kept his face neutral, but the blue eyes of the blond woman were sizing him up and he knew it was time for an escape. “I must be on my way.” Turning to Laura, he said, “Sidra’s car is over on the Willow Bend Road. I’ll arrange to have it towed and a replacement delivered immediately.” Sidra shook her head. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll call the rental agency and have them exchange cars.” “I insist,” Rashid countered and before his little woman could argue further, he climbed back into Zafir’s saddle and turned the horse around. “Until next time,” he said to Sidra, then nudged his horse and they were off down the street at a fast pace. Sidra watched him ride off, her eyes sad because she suspected she’d never see that man again. Laura watched Sidra carefully, seeing the look in her eyes and her smile grew wider. “I think you have some explaining to do,” she said and pulled Sidra into the building, understanding her friend’s reluctance but since they couldn’t see the horse and rider any longer, there was no reason to stand out in the open like this. Sidra walked up the stairs of Laura’s building, wishing she’d had just a few more moments with Rashid. Or maybe a few more hours. Days perhaps? Anything but the short time they’d spent together. She glanced down at her watch and realized that they’d known each other less than twenty minutes and she felt sad that she’d never see the man again. All that day, Sidra fought the jet lag that was pushing against her. She and Laura took the train into London, all the while, dodging questions about how she’d met the man on the horse. They dined that night with some of Laura’s colleagues, but by eight o’clock that night, Sidra couldn’t stay awake any longer. When Laura finally brought her back to her flat, Sidra washed her face, brushed her teeth and fell into bed exhausted. The Sheik’s Furious Bride Chapter 1 Isla stormed out of the dining room, furious with her brother for threatening her in that way! How dare he! Her younger sister Zarah tried to keep up but Isla had righteous anger propelling her forward. “Are you okay?” Zarah asked, her pretty face suffused with concern for her older sister. “He didn’t mean it, Isla. You know he’s all torn up about Sidra and finding out he’s going to be a father so soon.” Rashid, their older brother, had been frantically searching for the woman he’d met in England three weeks ago. She’d disappeared and they’d only this morning found out that she was also pregnant from their brief weekend. Needless to say, Rashid wasn’t thinking too carefully right at the moment. Isla stopped, covering her face with both of her hands right there in the middle of the hallway. “I know. I just….” She sniffed and tried to pull herself together. “Of all the things he could threaten, that was pretty mean.” Zarah put her arms around her older sister. At seventeen, Zarah didn’t need to worry too much about her future husband but she knew that Isla was anxious about the issue. Isla was eight years older and should have been wed several years ago. Both of them knew the time was coming when she would need to marry, and it might not be to someone she cared for. They both knew that their marriages would be political. “Give him time, Isla. He’s just now found Sidra. He’s not thinking clearly.” Isla took a deep breath and tried to regain her perspective on the whole marriage issue. Zarah was right. Their brother would never marry her off to a monster. He cared for both of his sisters and would put their welfare above a political alliance. The idea of Rashid marrying her off to someone like Sheik Hussan El-Hamin was ridiculous. Pulling herself together, she looked around and was embarrassed to have lost control right here in the middle of the main palace hallway where servants and guards were witnessing her outburst. She shook her hair out, then smoothed it down to make sure that she looked presentable. Her long, black hair fell naturally back into place around her heart shaped face and shoulders. “You’re right. He’d never do anything so vile or cruel,” she said to Zarah. “Come on, let’s go start getting things ready for the wedding. Sidra won’t know what hit her when all of this wedding and political stuff starts to fly around her so we need to help her as best we can.” Isla only appeared calm on the outside. Inside, she was still reeling from the threat her brother had issued. Marry her off to that bastard El-Hamin! That’s the most disgusting, most horrifying, awful thing Rashid could have said. El-Hamin was a monster! He might have subdued the civil war in his country, but that didn’t mean he was worthy of any civilized female company. He was a gross, disgusting man with a dark beard that covered more than half his face and angry, evil eyes. At least that’s the way the recent pictures depicted him. Hussan El-Hamin was an enormous man who ruled the neighboring country of Silaria. It had once been a beautiful, lush country, very prosperous with oil revenues that equaled and sometimes surpassed those of Tasain. But the previous ruler, El-Hamin’s uncle, had oppressed the people, destroyed a great deal of the infrastructure and sucked most of the money out of the country with his profligate ways. El-Hamin had left for school and hadn’t been allowed back in after his graduation from Stanford University. It had taken more than a decade, but El-Hamin had wrested control from his uncle, then several more years to get rid of the remaining men loyal to him. El-Hamin ruled Silaria with an iron fist and Isla suspected that the nephew wasn’t much better than the uncle. No one knew what was happening though, because visitors were no longer allowed inside the borders of the country. Not even reporters so the information was sketchy on the plight of the people. Isla knew though. She knew firsthand what was happening and she hated the man who ruled so cruelly. At least in the border areas. The people in those villages were struggling, living in abject poverty, their roads still not fixed and many didn’t even have running water so they were using whatever streams they could find, some of which were contaminated by now which meant disease could rage through a village, killing off many before medicine could reach them. Zarah patted Isla’s shoulder gently, trying to offer support. “Don’t worry about it,” she said comfortingly. “He didn’t mean it. He’ll be better once he’s married and all this political and wedding craziness is over with.” Isla wasn’t to be reassured. She was still angry, even though she knew that Rashid wouldn’t marry her off to a man who was basically no better than a thug. “Just because he found out he’s going to be a father and has finally found a woman he’s in love with, that doesn’t mean he needs to say something so vile, Zarah.” Her younger sister was smart and beautiful, but still too young to know the terrifying prospect of being married off to someone. In Isla’s world, the threat of marriage was always close, always present. At seventeen, Zarah had several more years before she had to worry about who her brother would choose for her husband. Isla had been terrified of that imminent threat for the past three years. She’d been comforted by the fact that Rashid hadn’t chosen a wife yet but even that cushion was now gone. Or would be in a couple of days. “I know,” her sister said soothingly. “He’s just mixed up right now. It isn’t like him to make threats like that. He was just trying to get us out of the room quickly. You know he wanted to talk with his new fiancée alone.” Isla perked up at that reminder. “Do you think he’s really in love with her?” she asked, almost forgetting the thought of her older brother’s threat with the reminder that her brother had finally found the woman he’d been searching for. It was an amazingly romantic story, she thought with a tinge of jealousy. Zarah laughed as she nodded her head. “I think he’s crazy in love with her.” The two sisters walked silently down the hallway towards their rooms, oblivious to the guards who were following after them at a respectful distance. They were both used to guards within the palace, but the increased security was necessary as massive preparations for Rashid’s wedding were progressing at a fast pace because of the urgency. Sidra, his fiancée, was pregnant but even if she weren’t, the sisters knew that their brother would have pushed for a fast wedding, wanting Sidra all to himself as quickly as possible. She could understand that. Isla wanted a sweet love story for herself but knew she probably wouldn’t find it. As the sister to a very powerful sheik, her husband would be chosen for her, she just hoped Rashid would take her feelings into consideration since she was beyond the age when she must be married off. Surely she could find someone that wouldn’t be so overbearing and would give her the space she desired. She refused to give up her secret work simply because she married. Maybe if Rashid chose someone who wasn’t a ruler of a country to marry her to, she could be more open about her work. She loved helping people and she was good at it. Being the sister to a sheik meant she had to be more….surreptitious about her activities. “I’m off to discuss the menu with the chef for tomorrow’s festivities,” Zarah mentioned. Isla sighed and turned in the opposite direction. “Rashid has asked me to personally phone several people to request their presence for tomorrow’s ceremony.” Zarah laughed. “I think I have the better task.” “You do,” Isla grumbled and headed off to Rashid’s office to pick up the list of names he wanted her to call. She was jealous of her sister’s task but knew that Zarah was too young to be making these phone calls. And some of them really did need to be made by a family member to soothe the ruffled diplomatic feathers caused by the last minute invitation. It was all about perception, she knew. Many of the world rulers wanted to be perceived as important and being called by a member of Rashid’s family would give them that impression. Isla spent the rest of the day making the phone calls, pretending to care if one or another of the rulers of various countries showed up at her brother’s wedding. As far as she was concerned, the only two people who needed to attend were the bride and groom. A large wedding wasn’t really her style. She actually would choose to have only her family and her groom’s family in attendance for her wedding. She liked it simple with little fanfare, something romantic and intimate. But she knew she’d have to have a large, extravagant affair. Rashid would demand it. Zarah was still too young to be worrying about her wedding, but she was thinking about it and dreaming about the day she’d become engaged to some man who would carry her off into the sunset where they would live happily ever after. Isla knew that wasn’t going to happen in her life. She would find contentment somehow in her marriage, but happiness was not in the cards. Not with an arranged marriage for political reasons. She worked hard all day, helping the staff prepare the palace for the numerous visitors. Security was painfully tight since so many people would be staying within the palace walls. She couldn’t go anywhere without her assigned body guard following her. The wedding wasn’t even going to be very large, but the risk was there regardless of the number of people. That night, she was restless for some reason. She wanted desperately to sleep, but she stared up at the ceiling, wondering what it would be like to be in love, to be excited about one’s wedding. She was actually jealous of Sidra, she realized in the early hours of the morning. The woman had fallen in love with her future husband and she was ecstatically happy about tomorrow’s events. Isla rolled over and pulled her pillow closer. Tomorrow was going to be a tough day, watching her older brother get married, seeing the love both of them couldn’t hide for each other. They’d known each other for such a short time, but they knew how they felt. She finally fell asleep just as the sun was rising over the horizon. Unfortunately, that meant that she overslept and by the time her maid was finally able to rouse her, she had to rush through the final preparations for the wedding. Her maid did her hair, then she quickly pulled on her dress and slid her feet into shoes. She was out the door less than an hour after she’d woken up. Forgetting breakfast and only taking a moment to grab a cup of coffee in the now deserted dining room, she got her jolt of caffeine and hurried down the hallway to the elaborately decorated receiving room filled with flowers for the wedding. She glanced at her watch, trying to orient herself for the day’s events. Less than two hours until the ceremony, she thought with resignation. She would have loved to see Sidra before the ceremony, wishing her luck, but that was not going to happen because she’d woken up so late. Dratted hopes and dreams! Why couldn’t she just accept her fate? She’d had a wonderful childhood and shouldn’t complain. So many people had it much worse. The palace was already filling up with guests and she would need to hurry to the receiving line to greet the incoming dignitaries, there were flowers everywhere and so many jewels on various hands and necks she couldn’t imagine the sum total of wealth being worn right now. Isla slipped into the receiving line, pretending as if it had been planned to happen like this. “Where have you been?” Zarah whispered furiously, but keeping the gracious smile on her face since too many important people were milling about. “Half the people are already here.” Isla smoothed her dress down and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself so that she could appear dignified. “I overslept.” She felt her sister stiffen beside her a moment before she whispered, “You didn’t go out last night, did you?” Ambassador and his wife. They both smiled and greeted the British “No!” she came back, then smiled as the French Prime Minister and his wife presented themselves to her. When that couple moved off towards the ceremonial room, she whispered back, “I wouldn’t go out the night before Rashid’s wedding. Don’t be ridiculous.” Zarah instantly relaxed with the reassurance. “Good. You should stop doing that. One day you’re either going to get caught or your you’re going to get hurt and you know it’s just a matter of time before one of those things happens,” she replied, then they both smiled as the United States Secretary of State approached. Her sister was right, but she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop. Her work was just too important. Besides, it made her feel as if she were contributing to the world as more than just another pretty face in a sea of millions of beautiful women. She wanted to make a difference in this world. One after another, the heads of various countries, or their representatives, filed into the palace. For a small wedding, this seemed ridiculously large, Isla thought as the five hundredth guest finally came through security. Everyone had been milling about with late morning cocktails and appetizers being passed about by the additional catering staff. Every security guard was on duty, watching for any suspicious activity. All food had been prepared offsite since Rashid wouldn’t allow un-vetted vendors into the palace walls and his personal stores of liquor were used so that there was no risk of poisoning. All too soon, the wedding music sounded and the guests were invited to find a seat. Isla took her place in front of Sidra, giving her future sister-in-law a wink for encouragement. The bride was radiant in a glowing white gown that had been brought in from Paris and fitted overnight. She looked a bit nervous and kept glancing towards the front of the wall of people and Isla instantly knew what was going through her head. She turned around and smiled brightly. “Don’t worry, Sidra. He wouldn’t miss this for the world. He’s completely smitten with you.” Isla was glad she’d said something when Sidra’s shoulders relaxed slightly and the worried look diminished. She was probably still terrified of going in front of all of these people, but she looked dazzling. Even Sidra’s brother Ryan who had flown in late last night looked magnificent in his formal clothes. As the music sounded, Isla walked carefully down the aisle, then stood at the front of the room while Zarah came next. When Sidra finally walked down the aisle on her handsome brother’s arm, Isla was embarrassed to find tears coming to her eyes. She quickly blinked them away and concentrated only on getting through the ceremony. Cameras were not allowed inside the room, but she knew that the ceremony was being recorded for the press. She didn’t want her makeup spoiled by tears, she thought to herself. She looked away from Sidra and scanned the other guests. There was one large man sitting in the front row who immediately caught her eye. He was deliciously handsome in a scary, dark and dangerous way. His hawk-like nose and dark eyes captured her attention and she wondered who he was. She thought he looked vaguely familiar, but she knew she’d remember that chiseled jaw and broad shoulders if she’d seen him before. The man was exquisitely made up physically with broad shoulders and long legs that he had extended slightly so that he didn’t look ridiculous on the dainty chair. He wore his dark suit and snowy tailored shirt perfectly and she even liked the simplicity of his light blue, silk tie. It somehow gave her the impression that he was at least trying not to be scary looking at a wedding, even if it didn’t work because of those eyes and his sharp nose. If he was in the front row, he had to be a very important person so it was increasingly embarrassing that she didn’t remember who he was. Rashid’s assistant had done the seating chart and placed everyone by importance, but Isla hadn’t had a chance to look at the chart. She glanced at his eyes and was startled to find him looking straight back at her. He glanced down at something but she ignored him, wondering what he could be noticing. When he glanced up again, then down, she knew he was giving her some sort of signal. Isla looked up, looked around and knew that everyone’s eyes were focused on Sidra as she and her brother walked down the aisle. So Isla took a moment and looked down, praying that nothing had spilled on her light blue dress. That would be horrible if she’d been greeting all of these people with a stain. But the only thing she’d eaten so far today was the coffee she’d grabbed for breakfast. As she looked down, there wasn’t anything on her dress. She looked back up and the man was still looking directly at her, then back down. What had she missed? Had she dropped something? Goodness, had she forgotten to put on stockings or a slip? She moved her legs slightly and she felt the silk, thigh high stocking she’d put on, so that wasn’t it. She couldn’t remember putting on a slip, but her dress wasn’t see-through so the man couldn’t possible know if she’d forgotten something so intimate. She clutched the flowers to her waist, trying desperately hard to figure out what the attractive man was trying to signal to her. Isla looked lower and gasped in horror. As she looked back up, suddenly realizing what he had been trying to tell her, she blushed painfully, but still couldn’t keep the amusement off of her face. She pressed her lips together and looked away, willing herself to not laugh, not to chuckle, don’t do anything at all. She was wearing two different shoes! Both were beautiful and both matched her dress. One had glass beads decorating the toe while the other was covered in soft, blue flowers. She’d been shown both the previous day but because of all the issues she’d been trying to deal with, she had told her maid to simply leave both and she’d wear the one that was the most comfortable for the ceremony. If they’d felt different enough on her feet, she would have noticed, but they actually were both very comfortable shoes. So here she stood, in front of world leaders and honored guests at her only brother’s wedding in two completely different shoes. She wondered if anyone else had noticed or if it was just this one man. She glanced back at him and, sure enough, he was still watching her, that slight amusement still on those sexy lips and in his dangerous eyes. She pressed her own lips together again, trying very hard not to look back at the man. She was able to do that for the whole service, but after the first kiss, the announcement of bride and groom, all the fanfare of the crowning ceremony that took place immediately after the wedding to crown Sidra queen….she just happened to glance back at the man who was now standing and applauding as the two newlyweds walked back down the aisle. He wasn’t looking at Isla’s brother and new sister-in-law though. He was looking right back at her and she couldn’t help the laughter that broke free when he winked at her. Incorrigible man! She made her way down the aisle after the newlyweds and out the door. The guests would be directed to the reception area while official photos of the wedding party were taken in another room. Everything had to happen quickly and on a tight schedule, she knew, so she waved her body guard over to her. Whispering in his ear, she explained the situation. Judar quickly looked down at her feet, then nodded his head. He bustled over to one of the servants who immediately acknowledged the instructions and raced off. Five minutes later, the servant returned with both shoes in her hands and Isla smiled her thanks that the official wedding pictures would not include her in two different shoes. She pulled on the jeweled shoe and handed the flowered one back to the servant, then quickly took her place in the picture. Only Zarah noticed the exchange since Sidra and Rashid were busy with the photographer, and very preoccupied with each other. Isla smiled at the way they looked together. Wouldn’t it be nice to be that in love? She wondered if she would ever have that feeling. She’d been to boarding school, but she’d been guarded the whole time and had never been allowed to really date any of the boys at the opposite school. She might have grown to resent her sheltered life, but her parents had instilled in her a strong sense of responsibility. She shared her love of her country with her family, wished that her parents were still alive to see their only son married, but knew that life went on and things happened. The rest of the day was predictable as the reception, dinner and endless toasts to the bride and groom were offered, but Isla couldn’t believe how disappointed she was that she didn’t see the man from the ceremony during any of the events. She was looking for him, but knew she couldn’t ask anyone who he was or what his position might be, not even from which country he hailed. She couldn’t let anyone know about her interest in any man, much less someone she’d met in the palace. She knew her place. She knew that her husband would be chosen by Rashid. It went along with the rest of her life and she had long ago accepted this role. She might not like it, but she would do her duty and follow Rashid’s orders as to her spouse. She knew that her brother wouldn’t marry her to anyone she distinctly disliked. He would take her opinion into consideration. But ultimately, it would be his decision. With a sigh, she looked down at her meal, not really hungry but knowing she had to eat something. It was late, she’d been on her feet for more than twelve hours and all she wanted to do was crawl back into her bed and sleep for hours. She knew she couldn’t do that yet, still had the departure of the more important guests to get through, but it was almost finished. Rashid and Sidra had already left for their honeymoon, Zarah had been sent to bed because she was younger, and so it was up to her and her cousin Jamal to stand in their stead and thank them all for coming on such short notice. Despite her fatigue, the thought of the departure line protocol actually perked her right up. If the man had been in the front row during the wedding, surely he would be one of those directed towards her and Jamal. The two of them were required to say goodbye to all of the important guests and she could find out more about him. Or at a minimum, shake his hand and find out his name. Or maybe she shouldn’t be hoping for that. She bit her lip as she made her way through the palace towards the exit where people were already starting to depart. She really shouldn’t get any additional information on the man since there could be no future at all with him. Just thinking about it could be dangerous and might lead to a major letdown when Rashid decided on a husband for her. No, it was best to leave silly romantic ideas alone and concentrate on reality. She had her work which made a difference. She’d have a successful marriage and maybe she could grow to love the man she married. This was her life and she accepted it. She smiled until her face hurt and thanked the guests as they departed, repeatedly telling each one that she’d convey their thanks and admiration to both Sidra and Rashid. Her hands were chapped from the many times she shook someone else’s and the shoes she’d thought so comfortable earlier in the day were actually biting into her feet now. But she’d been on her feet, literally on her feet walking or standing, for sixteen hours now. When the last few guests finally departed, she was so relieved that she took her shoes off and padded barefoot through the hallways to her bedroom. She heard Jamal next to her talking about one thing or another, but she wasn’t really listening, too tired by this point. She’d have no problems sleeping tonight, she thought with relish. “Good night, Isla,” Jamal said softly as she walked into his bedroom. “You looked exceptionally lovely today in the blue. I’m glad you chose that color.” Isla looked down at her blue dress, then back up at her cousin who was in a dark suit for the occasion. “You looked pretty good yourself,” she replied and waved goodnight. She smiled her thanks at the security guard who went into her room first and did a sweep before she entered, then stood outside while she washed her face, changed her clothes and crawled into bed. The soft sheets felt wonderful on her aching body and she closed her eyes. The last thing she thought of before sleep carried her away was that her dress and the stranger’s tie matched perfectly. Chapter 2 Isla pressed her persistent alarm, desperately wanting just a few more precious minutes of sleep. She’d slept so poorly the night before and all the wedding festivities yesterday had taken a toll on her. She just wanted a few more minutes to sleep. Was that really so much to ask? Her feet still ached from standing so long and her new shoes had been merciless. As her mind continued to resist sleep, she wondered what her mysterious stranger would think if he caught her walking through the palace in fluffy slippers. She smiled and pulled her pillow close, her mind drifting to the thought that maybe this is what it would be like to pull his body close so she could curl up in her sleep next to him. She reached over and pressed the snooze button, not wanting to lose the delicious feeling of curling up next to her stranger’s muscular body. But the alarm didn’t stop when she pressed the snooze button. Darn thing! She sat up and looked at the numbers. It was only four thirty in the morning! She didn’t need to be up until seven o’clock and she hadn’t gotten into bed until just after midnight. She looked around at her darkened bedroom, pushing the soft sheets out of the way. What was that infuriating sound? And then she woke up enough to figure it out, springing out of bed to grab her beeping cell phone. She rubbed her eyes, trying to eliminate the haze of sleep so she could focus on the small screen that was trying to give her some information. universe.” The text message was clear. “Zone five is up. Center of the Isla didn’t wait any longer. She ran into her closet and changed, pulling on her black leggings and black jacket with a hood. Her backpack was already set to go, she just needed to get out of the palace. That would be an extremely tricky endeavor if she hadn’t found a secret way out several years ago. She’d originally left the palace in disguise during the day, just to have a few hours of freedom from the restrictions of palace life and being the daughter of the sheik. Initially, she’d just visited the marketplace, or walked through the museums, doing anything that normal people might do. But one day, she’d come up with the idea of actually helping people. She’d read so many medical books, pouring through the information and was always fascinated by how the body worked and healed. So instead of just wandering about the capital city aimlessly, she started looking for a group of people, men or women with specific skills who could go out and find people who needed help. They would then combine their areas of expertise to make a difference, to help the people who couldn’t get help anywhere else. Sometimes, it was just smuggling medicine across the border, paid for with her own money and never stolen, but medicine needed to go through so many official channels and so much of it was siphoned off by those who claimed to be officials. Those ‘officials’ would sell off the medicine on the black market whereas her way brought the medicine directly to the people who needed it the most. She never dispersed medicine, only giving it to qualified doctors who were trustworthy and dedicated. She only performed minor medical attention. She was sort of like a paramedic who could help people just until she and her team could get the person trained medical treatment. She wished she’d been allowed to attend medical school. But she didn’t dare ask for something so outrageous. Rashid would never allow it anyway, so she hadn’t wasted her breath. She carefully moved the cover of shoes that hid the secret passageway. Not even the servants who cleaned her room knew of this opening and she was careful to maintain its secrecy. Opening the trap door, she slithered into the tunnel and down the ladder, careful to close the door as soon as she was through and make sure it was sealed shut with the lock bolted on her side. Within five minutes of her leaving her bedroom, she was outside the palace walls and gave the signal – a small pen light flashed three times in the direction of the palace kitchens. A black van immediately pulled up and she quickly jumped in the side door. The van was already speeding up by the time she had both feet on the floorboards while someone else slammed the door shut. There was a team of five people in the van but no time for greetings. As soon as she was seated, a map was pulled out and the information on the situation relayed to the team. They went through the details they knew about so far, questions asked, answers given. Meanwhile, they drove through the night towards the border to Silaria. The Duke’s Runaway Princess The lightning slashed across the black sky and Zarah grabbed hold of the wet railing, bracing herself for the next ocean wave. It came just as the thunder erupted with vibrations that she could actually feel and she bowed her head, praying that the wave wasn’t too large this time. The freezing cold rain was driving down onto the deck of the ship hard, feeling like needles against her skin and she couldn’t understand why her long sleeved shirt wasn’t protecting her more effectively. How had she gotten into this mess? How was she going to get out of it? The wave of water crashed but it knocked her against the wooden railing of the ship. She had to ignore the pain tearing through her side, forcing her mind to focus on just surviving the storm. There was a door off to the side and she rushed towards it but it was locked! She tried to grab hold of the wheel of the ship, tried to steer out of this insane storm, but the waves and current were too strong and the downpour from the heavens made it difficult to see more than a couple of feet in front of her. The moment she tried to steer, the current ripped the wheel out of her hands, hurting her fingers. Looking around, she peered through the darkness, desperate to find something to protect her from this storm. It was her own fault, she thought as she tripped her way towards the bow of the ship, wishing her legs would move faster. She had known that this storm was coming and she hadn’t done anything to avoid it. There were so many things she could have done to steer around this storm but she’d just sailed along, pretending it wasn’t coming. Suddenly, she tripped and looked down, surprised by the coarse ropes that were wrapped around her ankles and the scrapes along her legs where the rough wood of the deck had torn her wet skin. How had she missed those huge rolls of ropes? Why hadn’t she walked around them? Another wave was coming. More lightning slashed and the thunder boomed but she ignored those problems. The thing she feared the most was almost upon her and she told herself that the wave was the worst. She could deal with the thunder because it wouldn’t hurt her while the lightening was too far away at this point. The wave! She had to get out of the way! She had to find shelter or the wave would take her out to sea! Run faster! She tried to dash to safety but the rope was still tangled up around her legs, holding her back. Her numb fingers couldn’t unravel the rope from around her ankles and she kept glancing at the wave then to the rope that was now knotted to her legs. Panic filled her chest as she watched the wall of water build higher, the fear that she would be washed off the deck and drowned at sea terrified her. The wave was coming closer, closer….her fingers ripped at the knots but nothing would unravel them and the wave was almost upon her now! Someone was coming! More lightning but it didn’t illuminate the man’s face. He was terrifying. Large and dark, coming directly towards her. Why wasn’t he affected by the storm? He seemed dry and he stepped over the ropes, not getting tangled up even though they were everywhere. The wave! She could see the swell in the distance. It was coming faster! She had to find something to hold onto! But it was too late. The swell rushed over the top of the ship and she hadn’t made it to the railing yet. She had nothing to hang onto and she felt the water wash over her, taking her with it out to sea. And then it was all gone. Zarah sat up in bed, gasping for breath as her mind shifted away from the nightmare, trying to orient herself to the present and wakefulness. She looked around, confused because the storm…it had been so real! She squinted her eyes trying to figure out where she was and what had just happened. Her breathing was heavy as reality slowly returned. “It was just a dream,” she told herself, trying to calm her racing heartbeat and orient herself to her bedroom. Just a dream. The doorbell rang. She looked around, seeing the blanket wrapped around her ankles and she sighed, taking in deep, cleansing breaths to try and release the nightmare from her sluggish mind. She’d taken a nap after her last exam and now it was early evening. The doorbell rang again, sounding more insistent. Zarah looked at her watch and gasped. “Rashid!” she whispered and hurried out of her bedroom and over to the apartment door. Looking out through the peep hole, she saw her older brother, Rashid, and his wife, Sidra, standing outside. Rashid looked impatient as he reached for the doorbell again while Sidra simply looked concerned. Zarah wondered how long the two of them had been there but didn’t take the time to figure it out. The dream had muddled her mind and gave her an odd sense of time so she just pulled open the door and threw herself into her brother’s arms. “Rashid! It’s so good to see you!” She felt safe and secure in her brother’s strong arms. As sheik of her country, she knew he was extremely busy but he always made time for her, evidenced by the fact that he flew all the way to New York just to take her out to dinner. After hugging her brother, she spied her sister-in-law and grinned broadly. “Sidra, you look stunning, as usual,” she said as she put her hands on her sister-in-law’s growing stomach. “How far along is he?” Sidra smiled and touched her stomach as well. “She,” Sidra replied, emphasizing the feminine pronoun, “is about five months along. We’re in the twenty-fourth week and she’s really starting to prance around.” “Come in!” Zarah laughed. “I’m sorry, but I sincerely hope that this one is another boy. Believe me, you do not want to have a baby girl. Can you imagine Rashid with a girl? He’d never let her out of the palace!” She glanced at her older brother who was looking down at her with exasperation. “Trust me, I know. It took me years of arguing just to get him to let me go to school.” “But you’re finished,” Rashid announced emphatically. “And you’re ready to come home. I’m very proud of you,” he said and kissed her on the top of Zarah’s head. Zarah bit her lower lip, wondering when it would be a good time to bring up her suggestion regarding her future to her older brother. She knew what Rashid expected of her. She was to be married, become the wife of an important ally of Tasain, her home. Rashid was a very powerful man and she could help him by marrying someone who could give him support in either the region or on the international scene. But she didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to become some man’s trophy wife or his political asset. Her older sister Isla had accepted her role as a female in their country but Zarah had always rebelled against their place. She wanted something more. Although she had to admit that Isla was extremely happy with her current place. She was expecting their second child any day now and was still madly in love with her husband after several years of marriage. Sidra noticed Zarah’s forlorn expression and glanced at her husband but he seemed to be more interested in his baby sister’s apartment. He was currently surveying the small space filled with well worn furniture, chipped plates on the shelves above the counter and a bookshelf that was propped up by broken pieces of wood to ensure that it didn’t topple over from the weight of all the books lining its shelves. “Is this where you’ve been living all this time, Zarah?” he asked, his voice coming out as harsh and disapproving. Zarah looked around and beamed with pride. “Yes. It’s been a great place to stay while I’ve been at school. My friends and I have had some great times here.” Sidra laughed softly and put her hand in Rashid’s, squeezing to give him warning. “It looks like a fabulous apartment for a college student. Very comfortable and conducive to great study time. Doesn’t it?” she asked her glowering husband who obviously didn’t approve of his baby sister living in anything lower than the fabulously decorated condominium he’d bought for her several years ago. Zarah seemed to glow with Sidra’s approval and Rashid quickly caught on. “Yes. I’m sure it’s favorable to a great deal of concentration.” He sighed and put his arm around his wife. “Do you still have time for dinner tonight?” he asked, refusing to look at the tiny apartment and the contents that might be better off in a trash heap that in his baby sister’s apartment. She was a princess! She shouldn’t be living in a closet and wearing a tee shirt and jeans, regardless of her student status. Besides, her exams were now over, her thesis paper had been approved with high praise from her professors and she should be packing up to move back home. Zarah nodded eagerly. “For you? I’m always available for dinner. Let me go change.” Rashid watched carefully as his sister walked through one of two other doors in the apartment. Sidra watched him watching her and her concern grew. As soon as Zarah had disappeared behind her bedroom door, she turned to face him, her eyes looking up into his concerned features. “What’s wrong?” she asked, placing a gentle hand on his chest to get his attention. Rashid looked down into his beautiful wife’s face and sighed. “She’s going to fight it.” Sidra nodded, sadness growing in her eyes because she didn’t want her husband to go through the confrontation she knew was brewing with his baby sister. “I know.” She put a hand to his cheek to comfort him and he covered her hand with his larger one. “She can’t.” “She will.” She smiled gently, praying that it wouldn’t tear him up too harshly. He was strong and knew how to handle his family. And she’d be there for him the whole way. He pulled her closer and gently hugged her, mindful of her protruding stomach. “Any ideas on how to change her mind?” Sidra laughed and hugged him back. “Personally, I wouldn’t even try. But I didn’t grow up in Tasain so I’m not as close to the culture as she is.” “She knows what her role is. We can’t fight it.” She stood up on tip toe and kissed his jaw. “Do you have a groom in mind?” Rashid shook his head. “Several men have asked for her. But I haven’t responded. I wanted to put the names to her and let her decide.” Sidra glanced over at the closed door. “And what if she rejects all of them?” His face hardened. “Then I’ll choose the one that can protect her the best.” She knew that was coming, but it still made her heart ache that he would have to make that kind of a decision. Sidra didn’t fully understand his position, but she trusted him to do the right thing. Inside her bedroom, Zarah leaned against the door, her stomach churning with the conversation her brother and sister-in-law were having on the other side of the paper thin door. Several men had already asked for her? Who were they? And how long did she have to decide? Would Rashid take her preferences into consideration? Or would he choose the one he wanted even after she’d met all of them? She had so many friends from classes and various activities, all of them were dating and having a grand old time. She’d been on a few dates, but no man had piqued her interest so far. She supposed that she couldn’t imagine being with a man who wasn’t as strong and powerful as her father was, or her brother currently is. They were both physically imposing men with a brilliant intelligence and a great sense of humor. The men she’d met here in New York were smaller and shorter than her father and brother by several inches and none had the muscles she was used to in a man. Having been raised in the palace, surrounded by body guards and her brother or father, she had high standards for men and so far, none that she’d met had lived up to those expectations. And now her brother was going to sell her off to any man who could protect her adequately? What exactly did that mean? She could protect herself! She didn’t need a man to do that. She was strong, capable, intelligent! She could damn well make it through this world on her own. Opening her closet, she surveyed the clothes hanging to one side. There were two sides to her wardrobe. The majority of the clothes were jeans and teeshirts, things she could wear to class and blend in with the rest of the student population. The other side had less outfits, but they were still just as useful. Hanging to the back and covered with plastic covers were her “princess” clothes. They were designed and tailored especially for her, with matching accessories and shoes. She pulled out a soft, purple dress from this side of her closet, grabbing the shoe box which contained the appropriate shoes. She had to keep them in boxes because of the dust that accumulated due to the lack of use. It wasn’t very often that her brother would come to New York to visit with her. More often, she flew home for significant events and she had other clothes there which she could wear for those occasions. It took her less than ten minutes to change into the sophisticated dress, slip on her purple, Prada shoes and wind her long, black hair into a twist at the base of her neck. Adding a pair of diamond earrings, a bit of lipstick and she was set. At the last minute, she added mascara and powder, but only because Rashid would expect her to look nothing less than her best when they were out in public. There was always the risk of the press when they were outside of Tasain and she didn’t want to embarrass her brother by looking even slightly dowdy. She also knew that the cameras tended to make her look pale and sickly if she didn’t have just a small touch of makeup on and she’d rather not have the paparazzi assuming she was falling ill with a deathly disease and all the silly speculations that came with that conjecture. As they sat down to an elegant dinner at the exclusive, beautifully decorated restaurant, Rashid glanced at his baby sister carefully. She really was a stunningly beautiful woman. He hadn’t realized that she’d grown up so well, but looking at her across the table, he was impressed with how she held herself, the dignified way she moved, the inherent grace of her stature. Where was the immature girl who had argued passionately to be allowed to attend university? Who had thrown a temper tantrum when he’d refused? He remembered Zarah storming out of his office several years ago, slamming the door in her wake when he’d refused to allow her to leave the security of the palace to attend a school thousands of miles away. Gone was that girl and in her place was a sophisticated, elegant woman and, despite his previous objections to her wishes, he was very proud of all that she’d accomplished and how she presented herself. He wasn’t even sure how she’d finally convinced him in the end, but here she was. Not only had she completed her undergraduate work, but she had a Masters of Business Administration from Columbia University. Not a small accomplishment since Columbia was an extremely good school. “So what are you planning to do now that you’re finished with school?” Sidra asked as soon as the wine was served. Rashid glared at his wife, wondering what she was up to. They had just been discussing the offers he’d received for her hand in marriage. That was the only option for Zarah and Sidra knew it. Putting ideas into her head that there were alternatives was not helpful. Unfortunately, Sidra didn’t look back at him so she didn’t see his irritation. Zarah glanced from Sidra to her brother, then back again. Could it be this easy? Had Sidra knowingly provided the needed opening? Zarah wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She took the presented opportunity and ran with it before the window closed with Rashid rejecting any other possibilities. “I was actually considering various options,” she started to say and looked over at her brother, trying to gauge his reaction. “Now that I have my degree,” she said carefully, “I think the best way to be an asset to my future husband is to get some experience in the business world.” She saw Rashid open his mouth and knew he was going to reject the idea for the more traditional marriage route so she spoke quickly. “I know that, whoever I marry, will have many business interests. It would be much better if I could speak intelligently with my husband and help him through the multi-faceted issues he will probably be facing.” She couldn’t believe she was speaking such ridiculous tripe! Helping her husband? Good grief, let the man figure out his own problems. She intended to have several of her own to work through so the old coot would be on his own. Nor could she imagine even wanting to hear about some old man’s problems, much less caring and hoping to advise him. But she had to play to the audience and Rashid wanted her safely married off to someone who could ‘protect her’. She didn’t even want to contemplate what that might mean in terms of men. Old and fat with a protective detail surrounding him, and her, came to mind. She hated the idea. All of her freedom to come and go and explore the world would be eliminated simply because some disgusting old man wanted to protect his property, namely his wife and children. “I don’t think…” Rashid started to say but Zarah interrupted him again. “I’d like to be able to converse intelligently at meals with his guests. Right now, I have business theories in my mind but no practical knowledge. Could you imagine me spouting off about some random economic theory to a world leader when they’ve already dismissed that idea for their country?” She added a forced shiver of ‘revulsion’ for affect and kept her eyes on Rashid. She’d glanced at Sidra during her little speech and saw the amusement. Sidra knew exactly what was going on. But did she approve? Being an American, maybe Sidra could add her influence to her brother’s decision. “Enough!” Rashid commanded. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was adamant. “Zarah, you know…” Sidra laid a hand on his arm and he stopped instantly. Looking at her, he shook his head and sighed heavily. “Let’s have a relaxing dinner and discuss your future another time.” Zarah glanced at Sidra to thank her, but her heart was sinking in her chest because she knew it was only a matter of time before Rashid laid down the law and denied her the opportunity to find a job. All she could do was take the time to come up with another argument for delaying what was probably the inevitable. But the longer she delayed, the stronger the possibility that she’d find someone that would suit her better. And she’d be stronger as well. The more she learned, the better off she would be in her marriage. She didn’t want to be a doormat. She wanted to be respected and needed. Just as any other woman wanted. The meal was uneventful but delicious. Zarah hadn’t forgotten that one of the perks of being Rashid’s sister was the delicious food. He had a fabulous chef in the palace and, since she’d never needed to learn to cook, she relied on salads a great deal of the time while at school. It was hard to mess up raw vegetables, she knew. At least they were healthy if not creative or interesting. Besides, there were so many other things she wanted to do and cooking was way down on the list so bland food was acceptable most of the time. As Rashid dropped her off, walking her up to her apartment, he looked down at her with concern in his eyes. “We still need to talk about your marriage, Zarah.” Zarah looked away, her heart sinking even further and she had to fight back the tears that formed in her eyes. “I know.” “I’ll meet you for breakfast tomorrow at my hotel. Sidra won’t be able to stop the conversation then. Do you understand?” he asked carefully. Zarah took a deep breath and nodded, her head bowed with frustration. Rashid wished that he could help her feel better about her future but he didn’t know what to say, what words would help her. They’d discuss it in the morning, he told himself and kissed her head before walking out the door. He shook his head in amazement that she enjoyed living in such a hovel. As he stepped into the limousine beside an exhausted Sidra, he pulled out his phone and issued a curt order, ensuring that two men watched her apartment at all times going forward. “Why does she need a body guard now?” Sidra asked as she leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, her pregnancy making her sleepy a lot of the time. Rashid took her hand and pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her. “I didn’t know she wasn’t living in a gated community with adequate security around her. That was the type of apartment I’d selected for her when she’d started this whole college debacle so how she ended up here is a mystery. What was wrong with the condominium I bought for her years ago?” Sidra laughed softly and kissed his shoulder. “I’ve never heard anyone refer to a person getting an education as a debacle before.” It didn’t matter how many years they’d been married, she was still amazed by some of his sexist attitudes. “You know what I mean,” he grumbled and pulled her closer. “She shouldn’t be living like that. She doesn’t understand the danger she’s in by living so unguarded.” “But you do and you’re here to fix it, eh?” “Don’t joke, Sidra. She’s a princess and the world isn’t as kind as you would like to think it is.” “I’m sorry,” she sighed and snuggled against him. “But she’s also a woman and an independent one at that.” “The men I’ve considered for her to marry will take that into consideration.” At least he hoped so, but he didn’t say that to his wife. He knew there were certain things that riled her up, with that crazy American independent attitude of hers. Sometimes he really didn’t understand her, but he always appreciated her gentleness of spirit and kindness towards the world. Sidra didn’t respond, but she couldn’t help but worry about her sister-in-law who wasn’t much younger than she was. She could definitely imagine how she would feel if someone told her that she couldn’t work anymore because it had happened when she’d married Rashid. As an interior designer by education and profession, it had been hard to let that go but there hadn’t been any hesitation. She loved Rashid too much and if it were a choice between her career and him, she’d choose him any day. Oh, he let her redecorate the palace when the mood struck her but she couldn’t offer her services to other clients. She didn’t mind though because she had Rashid and her sons, and hopefully a daughter on the way. Sidra strongly prayed that one of the men Rashid had lined up as possible grooms might tempt Zarah and be an interesting possibility for a husband. Unfortunately, she didn’t hold out much hope of that after living in the palace for so many years and meeting some of the men who came through to speak with Rashid. They were just as stubborn and opinionated as he was which didn’t bode well for her young sister-in-law’s independent mindset. The Russian’s Pregnant Mistress - An Introduction Five year old Devlin curled his legs up on the hard, wooden chair, his terrified eyes watching as each of the nurses or doctors came out of the room where his mother had disappeared. “It’s going to be okay, son,” his father said, but the white knuckles and the anxious look in his father’s eyes told another story and devlin was paying attention to the body language instead of the words. He was only five, but he already knew that people rarely told the truth. And instinctively, Devlin knew that his father was lying. Philosophically, just so he didn’t have to think so much about his mother, he wondered if it was better when someone lied to make the other person feel better, or if a lie was still a lie. At this point, he wasn’t sure, but his mind weighed the pros and cons, taking his mind out of the sterile hospital waiting area, into the minds of others. He went back and forth on the subject and, over the next ten hours, he came to the conclusion that a lie was still not good even if it was to protect someone, but someone who lied just to be evil was worse than someone who was trying to protect. In other words, intent counted. He wasn’t sure about many things in this world. But as the sun dipped down over the horizon and the nurses stopped looking in their direction as they moved hurriedly thorugh those double doors, he came to two conculsions. First, his mother was not going to be fine. How unfine she was, he wasn’t exactly sure, but she definitely wasn’t okay. And secondly, his father was doing his best, even though the truth would have been less confusing. It was hard to reconcile the worried expressions with the calming words and that confusion only increased his fears. He watched it all though. Every movement, all the additional doctors that pushed their way into the unknown room, they all looked too serious for his mother to come out the way she’d gone in. When one doctor came out with blood, Devlin closed his mind off to the horror. That wasn’t his mother’s blood, he told himself, curling up into a ball in the corner of the waiting room. It simply couldn’t be his mother’s blood because she hadn’t skinned her knee, she hadn’t scratched herself in any way. As his father had explained to him, his mother was having a baby and it was a perfectly normal occurrence. Devlin had watched, completely unconcerned, as his mother’s tummy grew over time. She smiled a bit less and her hand covered her fat belly more often, but she’d still rubbed her fingers through his hair when she passed by him, she still sat down and read to him every night before she leaned over and kissed him goodnight. He loved her smiles, but her gentle touch was more important. And those kisses. Yes, he liked her kisses. And the way she smelled. She was sweet, he thought. No one else was in the waiting room by the time the doctor finally came out and approached Devlin’s father. They whispered to each other, glancing over their shoulders to Devlin who watched it all with eyes that had aged that night. And when his father broke down in tears, the doctor helping his father to sit down in the uncomfortable chairs, Devlin swallowed hard, trying to be strong for his father. He wouldn’t cry, he told himself. Walking over to his dad, Devlin put his arms around his dad’s shoulders and patted him, just like his mom had done so many times when Devlin had been scared, had been hurt or just needed a hug. Ten Years Later… Devlin stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work, feeling tired but trying to smother the resentful feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. His father had missed work again today. The foreman had told Devlin that, if his dad didn’t show up tomorrow, he’d be fired. Devlin knew that they needed his dad’s income to pay the rent and buy groceries. But Devlin also knew that there were days when his father just didn’t hear anything. Last night had been one of those nights. He’d just sat in the corner, drinking the whiskey and staring out the window. Devlin had made eggs and toast for dinner, but his father hadn’t eaten them, just kept putting the whiskey to his lips and drawing the amber liquid down until he’d eventually passed out. Devlin had gone through his dad’s pockets afterwards, taking all of his money and dumping the rest of the whiskey down the drain. It would still take at least a day for his dad to sober up enough to be fit to work, but Devlin didn’t have time to help with that tonight. He had classes and he’d have to hurry if he was going to make it. There wasn’t time for school during the day, but Devlin had arranged to work the early shift at the factory. That meant he could get out early enough to make it to the night classes. He loved those classes, taking as many as the night school would allow. Everything was fascinating to him, especially the business classes. He couldn’t believe how many ways there were to work around a problem and he was so eager to learn, the teacher gave him extra books to study. When he entered the one bedroom apartment that night, his father was still sleeping. Devlin made a sandwich for himself, grabbed a glass of milk, then headed out for his classes. He wanted to get to class early tonight since they were discussing real estate laws. He had an idea that he wanted to run by the teacher, see what he thought about the idea. With a glance at his father, he rushed out, heading down the street and pulling the collar of his thin, wool coat up around his neck. The temperatures in Moscow were below zero again today and that didn’t include the wind that seemed to slice through his coat. Only a few more months until springtime, he thought grimly, pulling the frigid door open a moment before he barreled through the opening to the night school. Scarlett’s story…. Scarlett lugged her books up the stairs, sighing as she released the weight onto her best friend’s bed. “Ms. Johnson gave us a ton of homework, didn’t she?” she asked as her friend followed behind. Audrey dropped her book bag on the floor only moments before flopping her long, slender body onto Scarlett’s bed. “She always does. That woman doesn’t seem to know the meaning of spring break, does she?” Scarlette didn’t respond, nor was any response necessary since Audrey had already opened up a fashion magazine and was drooling over the latest glossy advertisements. “Isn’t Fawna Tinsdale the most gorgeous creature?” Audrey gushed. “Not really,” Scarlett replied, although she hadn’t seen the sultry Ms. Tinsdale in several issues so perhaps Scarlett wasn’t the best judge of a woman’s beauty. “Shouldn’t we get this project started? I want to hurry and get to the art project. Mr. Kimmer says we can start that early if we want.” Audrey just rolled her eyes at her friend. “Mr. Kimmer says that you can start the project early. I’m pretty sure he won’t care if anyone else in the class start the project early.” Scarlett opened her books, but she snuck her journal underneath her math book. During math class, she’d thought of several ideas for her latest book and was eager to try and put them all down on paper. After an hour and a half of homework, Scarlett looked up at Audrey’s latest question. “Why don’t we go over to your house for a while?” she suggested, listening to her mother’s classical music come on downstairs. Scarlett loved her mother, but when the classical music started, Scarlett thought she was going to fall asleep. She hated the music and kept trying to convince her mother to enjoy the more modern sounds, but so far hadn’t gotten very far with that effort. The Russian’s Pregnant Mistress Gabriella Smith cringed inwardly as the repetitive, techno-rap music started up again. The loud, thumping, pulse pounding techno sound vibrated around her, pulsing rhythmically with the same throbbing beat as the pain in her head. Her headache was growing stronger as she listened, or tried to listen, to the other women in her group. The music was so loud, she had no idea what half of them were saying but she smiled as if she were thrilled by the environment. The only reason Gabby was still here was because her best friend, Margaret Baker, was getting married. This was her bridal shower, although why it was being held in a dark dance club with headache inducing, pulsing lights instead of in Gabby’s small home with lots of wine and a pretty, flower covered cake was specifically due to none other than Sylvia Henslow, debutante extraordinaire and obnoxious cousin of the groom. Maggie had found the love of her life about a year ago with Mark Henslow. Unfortunately, as with most marriages, he came with a lot of family. Sylvia’s idea of bridal shower games was significantly different than Gabby’s preference. Instead of the trivia games about the bride and groom or even the more daring lingerie theme, Sylvia had commanded that they all play a ‘fishing’ game. It was Sylvia’s job to challenge each of the members of the bridal shower entourage to a new sport where the men attending the dance club were the unknowing victims…or targets as Sylvia preferred to call them. The others in the group chose the quarry and the selected bridal shower member had thirty minutes to get the guy to buy her a drink. If she failed in the allotted time, she had to buy everyone else a round of drinks. For Sylvia and several other members of the bridal shower, this was not an issue except for their pride. Their trust funds had plenty of cash flow to cover several rounds of drinks every night of the week if needed. But Maggie’s other friends, Gabby included, thought that paying fifteen to twenty dollars per drink was a bit exorbitant. With fifteen members of the party, that many drinks would put a serious dent in the members of the group who had to work for a living. The alcohol was flowing though and everyone else was on their fourth or fifth drink. Gabby was still sipping her first one and had barely finished a quarter of the potent mixture, not liking the feeling of being inebriated and the out of control issues associated with overindulgence. She had no idea what was in the cocktail, but even the small amount she’d ingested in the last hour was starting to impact her thinking capacity. Gabby loved Maggie, was extremely happy that she’d found Mark and was excited for her friend’s future. But this ‘party’ was a bit too obnoxious for her taste. Gabby also knew that Maggie wasn’t having a good time either. She’d known her best friend since grade school and recognized the irritated facial expressions easily, although Sylvia was oblivious and on her way to becoming completely smashed. Gabby forced a smile for Debra, one of the other guests who had just returned victorious with her drink held high in the air as if it were some sort of trophy. Gabby considered the whole concept was disgusting and in poor taste, not to mention abusive to the men who thought they were getting a dance companion in exchange for the drink. She glanced to the side, not wanting to participate in the victory celebration. Looking away, her eyes were riveted by a broad shouldered, dark haired man who was sitting off to the side. He looked dangerous, with a hawk-like nose and dark, sinister eyes. She could tell that he was very tall simply by the way his long legs were positioned in front of him. With the low couches, his legs barely fit between the edge of the sofa and the table in front of him. He didn’t look uncomfortable though. In fact, he looked like he owned the whole dance club. He exuded a confidence that suggested wealth and power. And some undefinable attribute that was eye-catching…alluring. Dangerously enticing. When he turned his head, she gasped as he caught her glance. Gabby quickly looked way, focusing on the other women who were laughing at Debra’s recounting of her triumph, ridiculing the man who had been suckered out of his money for a drink only to find himself alone as Debra took her prize and walked away, leaving the poor guy standing by the bar wondering why he was suddenly alone and out forty bucks. Maggie smiled up at her, then turned her head as she rolled her eyes in Gabby’s direction. Gabby smothered a laugh and turned away as well so the others wouldn’t be offended by their amusement. But as soon as Maggie politely turned her attention back to Debra, Gabby looked back at the man, wanting just another quick look. She gasped when she found him staring right back at her! Why hadn’t he turned away? He wasn’t playing the game right. Here in this dance club, men and women looked towards one another, then pulled their gaze away, pretending to not be interested in each other until one of them made the first move. It was a power struggle that was played out over and over again amongst these wealthy patrons but this man was simply staring back at her without worrying that Gabby might think he was weak for showing his interest. Okay, to be fair, there was really no way anyone could think that this man was weak. His black turtleneck hugged his broad shoulders and bulging biceps, showing off muscles that the other men in the room could only wish they had. Gabby pulled her eyes away and refocused on the group. They were putting in their drink orders, Sylvia offering to buy the next round and nominating Maggie for the following set of drinks if their subsequent candidate failed. Gabby wasn’t so sure that was fair, seeing as how Maggie was the guest of honor. Jenny was up next for the man versus drink challenge and all of the ladies were glancing about the bar and dance floor, trying to find Jenny’s male victim. “Oh my goodness!” Sylvia gasped. All eyes turned towards her, waiting until Sylvia closed her overly glossed mouth and explained her shock. “Don’t look now, but you’re never going to guess who is sitting about thirty feet to our left.” Gabby’s stomach clenched with fear of what Sylvia was about to say. Was it her man? The guy she’d spotted a moment ago? She couldn’t look, didn’t want to know. And yet her eyes looked up just at that moment. Debra obviously didn’t follow Sylvia’s command to ‘not look’ since she too gasped when her eyes took in the delectable, tall male sitting on the nearest sofa by himself. “It’s Damon Petrov! Isn’t he the yummiest?” Debra was saying. “I love it when the filthy rich ones are also handsome.” Gabby’s heart sank when she noticed that it was indeed the man in question. Two other women had somehow found a way to sit next to the man, both were barely covered by the material of their dresses and leaning towards him with a look that shouted, “I’m yours! Take me!” One brazen woman was clad in a metallic looking dress that was so low in the front it was almost indecent and there was absolutely nothing on her back until the material covered her round little bottom. The second woman was wearing a red dress that clung to every curve of her body. She might as well be naked since nothing was left to the imagination. Gabby looked away, swallowing past the lump in her throat as she watched the two women sit down next to the handsome man, disappointment creating a metallic taste in her mouth. She continued to keep her eyes focused on her drink while the women surrounding her leaned forward eagerly, discussing the man in question. She didn’t want to hear, but their excitement and mercenary interest broke through even the loud, pounding music. Was this jealousy she was feeling? Towards a stranger? That was ridiculous! She’d never even met the guy, didn’t know his name and had only looked at him across the room. Being jealous of someone she didn’t know and had no claim on was not healthy. “Isn’t he that billionaire communications guy?” Debra asked, actually licking her lips in anticipation of meeting the man in question. Sylvia nodded eagerly, her eyes showing that she was mentally calculating the man’s net worth. “The one and only. He was on the cover of one of last month’s magazine as one of the world’s richest men.” Silvia continued to strain her neck to get a better look at him, her eyes alight with anticipation. Gabby hated the idea of the man in question falling for Sylvia’s blond sleekness. But there was no help for it. Sylvia was so stunning and confident, no man stood a chance of resisting when she approached. Debra suddenly let out a burst of harsh, nasty laughter. “Uh oh. Those little wannabees were rejected pretty quickly,” Debra said, laughing maliciously. Gabby wasn’t sure what had happened. She dared a look back over and noticed that the man was alone once again. And staring right at her! Gabby blushed and looked away, that wretched feeling instantly dissipating when she saw that the man in question wasn’t with those tramps. “Gabby! This guy is all yours,” Maggie called out, turning to Gabby and raising her glass for encouragement. Sylvia snickered and looked across their small space at Gabby in her borrowed dress and shoulder length brown hair with curls going in every direction. “There’s no way Gabby could get Damon Petrov to buy her a drink,” the spiteful woman declared and stood up. Debra stood up as well. “No way, Syl. I get this one!” she said and both women started forward, determined to approach the man and win a place in his bed for the rest of the evening. Gabby gasped and moved her legs out of the way quickly. Sylvia and Debra weren’t paying the bridal shower any attention in their quest to reach the mysterious Damon Petrov. Maggie moved over so she was sitting next to Gabby. “What a twisted mind,” Maggie said so that only Gabby could hear. “She puts new meaning to the term gold digger.” Gabby couldn’t help but laugh and nod her head, but she didn’t want to watch the two beautiful blond women approach Mr. Petrov. She knew that one of them would be successful and she hated the idea. She didn’t want him for herself. No, that was out of the question. Mr. Petrov was completely out of her league. She was a website designer with muddy brown hair and boring blue eyes. Even the dress she was wearing was borrowed from Maggie earlier tonight. The green and turquoise chiffon dress floated around her, hugging her breasts with a deep V that showed off the inside swells of her breasts before floating downward past the empire waist to about mid-thigh. This wasn’t anything like what she would normally wear, but she wouldn’t ordinarily be in a dance club. Maggie had lent her the dress, and the matching shoes so that she wouldn’t feel out of place. But even in the borrowed dress, she still couldn’t compare to the sultry, unashamed sexuality that Sylvia and Debra conveyed effortlessly. Those women were the types that would appeal to a man as blatantly sexual as Damon Petrov. He was dark and dangerous and his broad shoulders screamed sex. But as they approached, sitting down as close as possible to the man in question, they were immediately and unceremoniously ejected by the guards who magically appeared, taking each woman’s elbow and pulling them back off the seats. Damon watched with disgust as two more blonds began their approach. With a flick of his wrist, Justin and Marco stepped in and took care of the situation. He hadn’t come here to find a woman. He was here to find his brother. His information told him that Yuri frequented this establishment often so here he was, lying in wait for his absent minded brother, listening to music that was beyond annoying and swatting away women who were little better than prostitutes. He knew that everything came with a price. He’d grown up on the streets, fighting for the survival of him and his brother and the basic rule of the streets was that nothing was free. If he hadn’t needed to check in with Yuri, who had been ignoring his phone calls for the past few weeks, Damon wouldn’t ever have stepped foot into this night club. But Yuri was the only family he had and Damon became worried when his little brother didn’t check in with him. Yuri wouldn’t do anything illegal, but that didn’t mean some miscreant wouldn’t take advantage of him. Yuri spent most of his time in a university library, reading and working on his dissertation. Every once in a while, he stuck his head up for breath and came out dancing. It was such a contradiction to Yuri’s normal lifestyle, but Damon supposed that everyone needed an escape in some way. This particular club was on the more obnoxious end. The women might not blatantly be selling their bodies, but they definitely weren’t free. Succeeding in business had only reinforced that knowledge. His communications firm was one of the largest in the world and he had plans to expand even further, doing so by understanding the way the world worked in all aspects of society. He swallowed up weaker companies almost weekly in order to expand his business reach and had no qualms about exploiting other businesses’ weaknesses. It was the law of the streets, he told himself. competition. The only way to survive was to crush one’s He didn’t even care that some people hated him with an all consuming passion for the way he did business. Everything he did was legal but if the competition was too slow or too stupid to find the cracks in their empire, he was more than happy to show them how their empires could crumble. Yuri, on the other hand, had been weaker growing up in Moscow, less enthusiastic about business and ambition. His asthma had almost killed him during the bitterly cold nights when they were barely finding shelter for the nights. Warehouses, barns, abandoned stores…anything that would keep a bit of the cold out was fair game during the years after their mother died and they were out in the streets. Perhaps Damon should have made Yuri fend for himself more often. Maybe then he would have a better sense of himself. Instead, Damon had protected his younger brother, fought his battles, brought him food, watched out for him. And when Damon’s business sense clicked in, it had been Damon who had succeeded while Yuri preferred the intellectual challenges of literature. Initially, Yuri had managed several of the initial phases of the business, but his true calling was to read, discuss what he’d read, share his insights with students and anyone who would listen and, perhaps in the next few years, write something that someone else might read and discuss. Damon certainly hoped so. Until then, Damon would keep tabs on his little brother, just like he’d done throughout their whole lives. Yuri was too sensitive and eager to view the world as it was portrayed in his stories. In reality though, there weren’t any heroes or damsels in distress. Just one person trying to get ahead in any way possible, stepping over the smaller person to get that edge. So here he was, waiting for his brother to show up. His personal body guards, Marco and Justin, standing off to the side to protect his little brother if someone seemed to be too eager to get to know either Yuri if he showed up, or Damon while he waited for his brother to show up. What a mess, he thought and glanced back at the petite brunette across the floor. He stared at her, willing her to look at him. She was cute, completely different than the barely dressed women that were gyrating around him on the dance floor and he was just trying to figure out a way to approach her when she glanced over at him. The shock that went through him at that moment was intense and he leaned forward, keeping her eye contact for a long moment before she bowed her head and looked away. Damn! She was gorgeous! He’d only seen her profile, but he could see that she had blue eyes all the way from this distance. And her cat-like eyes weren’t even her best feature! Those high cheekbones were worthy of a model and those lips! He wanted to taste those lips, feel them and know what it would be like to kiss her. The fullness of her rosebud mouth was sexy in an innocent, don’t-touch-me kind of way. When she peeked up through those lashes again, he was still watching her. Normally, he would have approached by now, not wanting to wait for something but going after what he wanted with a powerful force that left nothing to chance. But he was still reeling from the impact of her look, reveling in the feeling of knowing that she was looking back. Yes. He would have her. When the two blonds sat down on either side of him, he looked across the room at his little woman. He felt a stab of pain when he noticed the disappointed look in her eyes and immediately got rid of the women and their barely covered breasts. For some reason, he wasn’t interested in the blatant call of sexuality tonight. The shy woman sitting with the group of revelers fascinated him, challenged him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He knew the instant her group of friends recognized him and his irritation increased. He was just about to stand up and ask his woman if she wanted to get out of this place when two of the woman in her group stood up, almost tripping over themselves to approach him. When they stepped on his woman’s toes, he just about yelled out, but instead, waited patiently for them to approach before waving to Justin and Marco to disperse them. With a simple look, his guards knew to not be polite about the eviction. He almost chuckled at their offended expressions. He knew they were more embarrassed than anything else. He didn’t care one bit but his eyes moved directly back to his little woman, wondering why she was in that group. About half the women looked like they belonged in a tea shop with pretty little cakes and dainty lemonade while the other half looked as if they were the typical, pointless society women who flitted from party to party without any sense of responsibility. He was just about to stand up and approach her when he saw the rest of the group address her. His eyes narrowed as he watched her reaction. The lights were dim so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw her face pale as the catty woman spoke. “Since Damon Petrov seems to be so fascinated with you,” Sylvia sneered, “I’m challenging you to the test. Come back with a drink he’s bought or you’re on the hook for all the drinks.” She paused a moment before saying, “And I think I’m in the mood for Perrier-Jouet next.” She glanced at the rest of the women, half of whom nodded while the other half, the half that Gabby and Maggie normally hung out with, looked uncomfortable and glanced downward. “I think I’m in the mood for a bit of seltzer water,” Maggie stated. “It’s time to lighten up on the drinks.” Half of them nodded, relieved to have an excuse to not order a bottle of champagne that could cost several thousand dollars. It was outrageous even for Sylvia’s extravagant allowance. Gabby looked back at the malicious woman with a wide-eyed look and wasn’t sure what to do. It suddenly felt like high school all over again with the petty competitions for the best outfit or smoothest hair style. She’d hated it back then, and now that she was an adult, she refused to accept that kind of small mindedness. She turned to Maggie and whispered in her ear, apologizing for her early departure. “I’m sorry Maggie, but this is ridiculous. And as maid of honor, I owe you a real bridal shower. I promise not to let it get high-jacked next time.” She stood up and glanced at the others, but ignored Sylvia’s smirk and Debra’s jealous look. “Everyone, thank you for including me tonight, but I have to head out. This isn’t my kind of scene and I don’t like treating people in this manner.” She received applause and cheers from the more conservative half of the group. Obviously several of the others had been feeling the same thing but were too intimidated by the debutants’ cattiness to say something. That actually made Gabby feel stronger, more in control and powerful. Maggie laughed and was about to stand up but Gabby put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Maggs. I can get home on my own. Stay and dance, have a great time. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” With as much dignity as possible, Gabby picked up her purse and turned on her heel. She didn’t even glance at the smirking Sylvia and Debra, ignoring the way they put their heads together as if they were gossiping about her inability to hook up with a man like Mr. Petrov. With her head held high, she started walking through the crowd but instead of turning towards the man in question, she walked in the opposite direction. She wished she had the courage to talk to him, at least say hello or introduce herself, but that really wasn’t her style. Well, to be perfectly honest, she didn’t really have a style when it came to picking up men. She tended to tread very carefully with the men she went out with, usually accepting dates only from men she knew well and were already friends with. She grimaced as she headed for the exit, knowing that her current ‘modus operandi’ wasn’t working too well for her since she was twenty-five and still single. Not that twenty-five was old. But she’d only had two significant relationships, and neither had resulted in an intimate, physical relationship because the men hadn’t fascinated her enough to take the plunge into a sexual bond. She smiled politely at several men who tried to step in her way, but kept on walking, showing them with her body language that she was not interested. Unfortunately, she might not be interested for a long time after seeing her mystery man. How does one go back to sipping tap water when one has seen the champagne? The men who were trying to stall her exit all seemed like milk toast compared to that man Sylvia and Debra had called Damon Petrov. Even from a distance he had increased her pulse. She didn’t want to deal with any of this, besides, it was late and she wanted to just fall asleep in her warm, comfortable bed and not think about this disastrous evening until tomorrow morning, when she could start planning Maggie’s real bridal shower and not some sham of a dance club fiasco. “You left a very angry group of women behind,” a deep voice said from the side of the lobby. The music was much softer from this area and Gabby swung around, wanting to find the source of that sexy voice. It couldn’t be him! Could it? There he was, in the flesh and walking towards her. She looked up at him as if he were some sort of approaching god and she knew she should close her mouth and appear casual, but this man was even more handsome up close. And goodness he was tall! She had to tilt her head back to look up at him when he stopped about a foot away from her. “I’m sorry?” “Your friends? They were very angry that you walked out on their fun.” He let that sink in then stepped slightly closer. “You should have risen to their challenge,” he said more softly. “You would have won the bet.” Gabby tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but she was having trouble breathing with his spicy male scent filling her nostrils. “Excuse me?” she asked, her voice sounding as if she’d just run a marathon. She even liked the lilting accent. It was barely there, but still noticeable and it gave each of his words a texture that wasn’t apparent when Americans spoke. Damon reached down and touched a soft curl that looked as if it were tickling her cheek. “The bet,” he repeated. “The challenge where you have to get a man to buy you a drink or you owe the rest of the ladies a round of drinks?” She nodded stupidly, ashamed that he’d already understood their game. “You should have taken them up on the bet. You would have won.” He slid his hand into the pockets of his dark slacks again. “In fact, I would be honored if you would allow me to buy you a drink now.” Gabby swallowed, not sure how to respond. She was about to shake her head, then thought back to all the men she’d passed on her way out. Was she really going to pass up the opportunity to get to know this man? To sit across the table from him and find out what he was like? “A drink would be very nice. But only under two conditions.” He smiled slightly, enjoying her soft, flowery perfume. “What’s that?” he asked, leaning down slightly so he could hear her more clearly. “I get to buy you that drink and we make it coffee or something less potent than the brew I was drinking inside.” She watched his eyes, wondering if he was going to laugh at her. She couldn’t help it. The drinks hadn’t been enjoyable, containing too much alcohol. He didn’t laugh and she saw only admiration and interest in his eyes. “Coffee sounds great,” he said, not committing to letting her buy him anything. “Let’s go,” he said and took her hand, tucking it into his elbow with an old fashioned flair which Gabby thought was charming. There was actually a coffee shop right across the street and he led her quickly through the heavy street traffic and into the small, cozy café. She ordered herbal tea and he asked for an espresso, then he found them a small table over by the window so they could watch the traffic pass by. “I’m Damon Petrov, by the way,” he said as soon as they were sitting down. He stuck out his hand and Gabby tentatively put her smaller one into his large, masculine hand. “I’m Gabriella Smith,” she said, her heart rate increasing once again with his warm touch. “Pleased to meet you.” “I’m also very pleased to meet you Gabriella. I wanted to introduce myself from the first moment I saw you.” “Everyone calls me Gabby,” she replied, pushing her curls out of her face and tucking her hair behind her ears. “You’re a very beautiful woman. Why were you with that group?” It sounded as if he thought she didn’t fit in with them. He was right, but she bristled slightly, thinking that it was criticism. “It was my best friend’s bridal shower. She’s marrying Marc Henslow in a week.” Damon nodded. “I know Marc. He’s a smart man.” Gabby’s eyes widened. “How do you know Marc?” He laughed softly. “I know many people.” She smiled back at him, starting to relax as the hot tea eased the tension that had accumulated from her venture into the night club. As soon as she started talking to him, she relaxed even more and enjoyed the lyrical sound of his accent. The man might look intimidating, but he was actually a very kind gentleman. She had no concept of time as they laughed and talked about various subjects, one topic rolling to another. She was fascinated by his facial features, entranced when he laughed at anything she said and wanted to make him laugh again and again. As the night grew old, she thought she saw things in him, in his expressions, that made her want to ease something that she sensed was hurting inside of him. He didn’t talk about himself much, but their conversation revolved more around opinions, politics or various places they’d visited. But something in his eyes told her that he’d lived a very hard life. The man might have anything he wanted at his fingertips now, but instinctively she knew that hadn’t always been the case. She found out that he was born in Moscow but had lived all over the world, but he didn’t share much more than that before he changed the subject. She saw his hands and they were not the hands of a wealthy man. Taking his hand in hers, she turned it over and examined the roughness she found, amazed that someone Sylvia would describe as one of the wealthiest men in the world wouldn’t have soft, perfectly manicured hands. There were calluses, she realized as her fingers rubbed the rough spots gently with her fingertips. And his fingers were long and lean, but they were also hard, well used hands. She wanted to soothe the struggle inside of him but didn’t know him well enough to even suggest such a thing. She glanced out the window and her eyes caught sight of Maggie and the rest of the bridal shower coming out of the dance club. “Oh my,” Gabby said and looked down at her watch. “It’s already three o’clock in the morning,” she gasped. “I can’t believe how much time has passed.” She looked across the table at him, surprise showing on his face as well. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.” “Nonsense. I’ve enjoyed this time with you,” he said, surprised that he really had had a good time. It was the first time in….ever…he’d sincerely enjoyed the company of a female in a non-sexual activity. “I’ll drive you home,” he said and tossed down several bills to cover the cost of their coffee and tea. “You can’t do that!” she said and shoved the money back across the table, reaching for her purse. “That was our deal. I get to pay for our drinks.” She pulled out her wallet and dropped some money there, then shoved it back into her purse. She was flustered and not sure where this night would lead. She sincerely wanted to see Damon again, wanted to talk with him and make him laugh another time. But she didn’t know what he wanted. Perhaps tonight was just his way of getting out of the dance club un-accosted by aggressive females. Damon shook his head and picked up her money a moment after she turned away. He put his own money back and slipped her bills back into her purse as she pulled her sweater over her shoulders. “Where do you live?” he asked. Gabby looked up at him, not sure how to respond. “You don’t need to drive me home,” she said softly. “It’s late and I’m sure you’re tired.” He put a hand to her shoulder as she started to turn away. “Gabriella, there is absolutely no way I’m going to allow you to get home by yourself. So you either let my driver take you home alone and I’ll catch a cab, or we head to your place together and I see for myself that you’re safely home. It’s too late for me to allow you to head home without protection.” Gabby thought he was charming. “That’s very sweet of you, but completely unnecessary.” “Are you going to stand there and argue with me?” he asked, towering over her with amusement turning up those firm, sexy lips of his. “Or are you going to let me make sure you get home safely? Because I’m bigger and stronger and meaner than you are and that means there’s absolutely no way you’re going to win this argument.” In the end, she wanted to spend more time with him, so she allowed him to drive her home. Or, she allowed his driver to take her home. Sitting in the back of his luxurious limousine, she felt like a princess on a magic carpet, the vehicle was so smooth with none of the street sounds entering the dimly lit cabin. In no time at all, they were pulling up outside of her small, cottage style house. The light over her front door was inviting her and she stepped out of the car, surprised when he was right behind her. She walked silently to her door, her fingers nervously holding the keys to her house. When she reached the door, she unlocked it and turned to thank him. But with her mouth open, no sound escaped. He was so tall, so handsome…and she saw the same thing in his eyes that she knew was shining out from hers. Desire. He slowly bent to kiss her, letting his lips caress hers, rubbing back and forth, testing her to see if she would push him away. But there was no way she would do that. She’d been thinking about what it would be like to be kissed by this man ever since she’d seen him at the dance club. She savored this moment, reveling in the electric shocks that spun through her body. She moved closer, her fingers touching his cheek gently, caressing his jaw and his ear before her fingers dove into his very soft hair. After that, she wasn’t sure what happened. Except that she was lost in a haze of passion and lust so intense, she wasn’t sure if she was on fire or just smoking up her house. Within moments, they were both inside and the zipper of her dress was pulled down. It was only a matter of a tug and a push and the chiffon fell silently to the floor. His hand slid down her back, tracking where the zipper had once been and Gabby shivered, closing her eyes. Her fingers moved to his shirt and slid up his chest. She wanted to remove his shirt, but was too shy to do that on her own. She was almost completely naked but he stood there fully dressed and she didn’t think that was fair, especially since she wanted very desperately to feel his skin just as he was doing to her. “Please, may I touch you?” she whispered, her hands moving against him restlessly. “Absolutely,” he growled and pulled his black shirt out of his dark slacks, tossing the material behind him. He then took her hands and placed them against his chest, his breath hissing sharply as her fingers slid against his skin. “Yes! Just like that,” he encouraged. His hands moved back down to her waist, his fingers sliding into her underwear and tugging them down. Gabby stepped out of her underwear, holding onto his shoulders so she didn’t fall, but when his hands moved higher to cup her breasts, she leaned into him, her legs unable to hold her upright for a long moment. The shock of feeling his fingers on her breasts was startling. And then his thumb rubbed over her nipple and she cried out, arching her body into his hand then biting her lip to stop any other sounds from coming out. Her bra was suddenly whisked away and then his hands were once again cupping both of her breasts. He lifted her up and placed her back onto the bed, coming down after her. His hands held him above her and she looked at those hands, longing for him to touch her again. But he had other plans. Gabby watched with amazement as his head dipped down, his mouth taking her nipple and sucking. Hard. She screamed out, her body almost sitting up as the heat spiked through her. Her fingers dove into his hair and she gripped the strands almost violently. When he lifted his head to move to the other one, she whimpered, in both anticipation and fear of that feeling. She couldn’t let him stop though. Her hips moved beneath him, her legs rubbing against his and she couldn’t seem to lay still. She needed more, something deeper and she couldn’t think long enough to figure out how to control this. “Damon, you’ve got to stop,” she gasped and then felt his teeth nip at her tender nipple and she cried out again. He did it over and over again until she pulled his head up, her breathing coming in gasping breaths and she wasn’t sure what she wanted any longer. “I’m not going to stop, Gabriella. Just lay back and enjoy this,” he said with a mysterious smile. His hands reached up for hers because they were holding his head away from her, an activity that he wouldn’t allow. With a firm grip, he pried her hands away from his head and held them by her side. She was shaking her head as he moved lower, but her body was still telling him to continue. Even as he moved lower, her legs were still tightly wrapped around him. He kissed his way down her stomach, teasing and tickling and slowly, her legs relaxed enough for him to move lower still. When he reached his goal, he smiled in anticipation. He could tell she was more than ready for him, but he wanted to taste her, to watch her climax. He held her hips still as she tried to scoot away from him and he released her hands so that he could use his own for his main purpose, which was to drive her absolutely insane with need. When his mouth kissed her thigh, she took a shallow breath, her hands now clenching the comforter beside her. She couldn’t move away and couldn’t stop his mouth so he knew that she was bracing for this, and he held the anticipation out longer, enjoying the smell of her arousal which only made him ache harder. When he finally kissed that most intimate part of her, he just about lost it as he tasted her sweetness. She was incredibly hot and his hands held her hips more tightly as her body tried to pull away from the intense feeling of his tongue. He slid a finger inside her, then two, while his tongue moved against her. In the end, he was almost disappointed that she climaxed so quickly. But the sight of her exploding was so arousing, he could barely contain himself. Moving higher, he didn’t wait for her first orgasm to subside. He reached for his slacks and grabbed a condom, quickly putting it on as he watched her continue to move on the bed. When he was finished with the task, he held himself over her as he slid into her heat, thrilled when her body automatically made room for him. Her legs lifted, her knees by his hips and he plunged into her body. And then froze. Her nails digging into his skin and the slight barrier told him that she’d never done this before. He pushed higher, unable to stop himself, but his mind whirled around the fact that this little tigress had been a virgin until moments ago. How that was possible, he didn’t know. She was too sensuous for him to have suspected this could be the case, but the proof was there and he slowed down, letting her body adjust to his size and his invasion. When she opened her eyes and smiled at him, he knew that she was okay. More than okay, he thought when she shifted her hips against him, squeezing him with those muscles and he closed his own eyes to regain control. He would go slowly, he told himself. He wouldn’t pound into her as his body was clamoring to do. He would be gentle and careful and…. Damn it felt good when she moved like that, he thought and tried to think of something, anything other than her hot, tight heat and how incredibly perfect she felt. He moved again and again, but he’d never felt anything so incredible and when her body climaxed once again, he couldn’t stop his body’s response. Just a few more strokes and he was flying over the cliff himself, both amazed and ecstatic that this tiny woman could be so passionate. About The Lovers Exchange Series The Earl's Outrageous Lover was another one of those books that I'd started and stopped several times over the years.  I actually had the original text I'd written and tried to make it work over and over again, but in the end, I simply re-started the whole story from the beginning.  When I finally did that, the story flowed much better.   With my first few attempts, Jessica was much more obnoxious, which tended to make Edward a bit too mean.  So when I re-wrote the story from the beginning, I tried to make Jessica outrageously gregarious instead of overly obnoxious.  That allowed Edward to be stiff and conservative a fun counterpoint to Jessica.  I wanted to give Edward some competition with Jessica so I brought James into the story as well.  But when James appeared, I had to make him into a yummy male as well.  And since he was such a hunk of a guy, I had to write his story with Julianna as his opposite - this became The Tycoon’s Resistant Lover.  It was fun to bring an American into the mixture of British aristocrats, especially as James introduces the them to some American traditions. The Earl’s Outrageous Lover - An Introduction Edward…. “Stiff upper lip, son,” Edward’s father said softly, barely moving his lips. Edward Livingston didn’t nod, didn’t agree or in any way acknowledge his father’s command. He knew exactly what was expected of him. At sixteen, he was fully prepared to follow in his father’s footsteps and knew that protocol would not allow him to cry or show any emotion. As the coffin was lowered into the ground, Edward smothered the grief deep down inside, burying it so that it couldn’t come out. Later, when he was alone he could release the anguish that was clawing at his insides, but while in public he would remain steady and calm. Too many eyes were waiting, watching to see his reaction and he refused to allow them into his private misery. He couldn’t watch as his mother’s body was lowered into the ground. He looked away, needing some other scene to distract him from the wrenching pain he was feeling at the moment. He could deal with this, he told himself. Rise above the sorrow, was the mantra his father had drilled into him over and over again throughout his life. His mother was gone now. Letting these people see his grief wouldn’t bring her back and would only give everyone something to talk about later. He looked around, his eyes searching for something else to look at. His eyes caught a little girl, her brown, curly hair pinned back off of her face and her huge eyes staring back at him. He knew her but couldn’t remember her name. At least, he knew her family and respected the little girl’s father. Edward sifted through his brain, finally remembering that the father’s name was Franklin Mallory. He wasn’t sure about the mother’s name, but he was pretty sure he remembered the daughter was called Jessica. The tears this little girl was shedding seemed out of proportion to the event and her personal sting at the loss of a stranger’s mother. Why was she as staring right back at him, her huge, five year old eyes weeping for someone else’s mother? Why would she do that, he wondered. She didn’t move at all, her tiny body wrapped in a black, wool coat, her feet dangling off of the end of the chair as the afternoon sunshine glinted off of her shining dark curls. Despite the fact that her little legs were too short, causing her feet didn’t reach the ground, her legs were appropriately crossed at the ankles just as her mother’s were. Edward took it all in, slowly absorbing each detail and watching every tear fall from her cheeks passed her adorable, button nose. He’d never witnessed anyone crying so steadily, and so silently. With a deep sense of relief, he heard the minister say the final words, words that would release him from this horrible ordeal and allow him to return home so he could cry about his mother’s death in private, no longer surrounded by all these people who had shown up to pay their respects. Just a few more minutes, he told himself and glanced back at the little girl. Yes, the tears were still falling and that oddly soothed him, allowed some of the pain of this end-of-life ritual to ease slightly. It was almost as if she were crying the tears he wanted to release, but couldn’t because it wasn’t appropriate due to his position. As the only son of the Earl of Locton, Edward knew that he had to maintain his stoic demeanor and he would not embarrass his father by showing any emotion during this ceremony. He pulled his eyes away from the little girl’s angelic face, feeling slightly better now. He knew he could face the rest of the afternoon, the reception and all of the handshaking. The sorrow was still there, but he didn’t feel as if his grief were crushing him, constricting his chest. Taking a deep breath, he followed his father out of the cemetery. He looked back where he thought Jessica Mallory would be but she wasn’t there. Johanna Holbrook stood in her place. When he caught her eye accidentally, Johanna bowed her blond head slightly, not even a hint of a smile showing during this somber procession and the tears were well hidden. Edward acknowledged the girl’s nod before ducking into the limousine behind his father. “You did well son,” George said. Edward sat in the limousine, his eyes staring out at the cold, autumn day while their driver pulled away from the cemetery. He saw Johanna once again, her hands folded politely in front of her while her parents conversed softly with other mourners. She didn’t look up, she didn’t fidget and her blond tresses were neatly pulled back into a smooth pony tail. She was young, he thought she might be about six years old but wasn’t sure. At sixteen, he generally knew of the other members of the community, but someone that young wouldn’t be in his group of friends. The limousine turned a corner and he caught sight of Jessica once again. The girl was still staring at him, or at least at the vehicle as it slowly maneuvered through the twisting cemetery streets. Her brunette curls flew out in every direction as the cold wind picked up. Her tiny hand was held in her mother’s larger one and her eyes watched as Edward’s limousine drove down the cemetery street. Again, Edward wasn’t positive, but he thought she might be Jessica Mallory and was about four or five years old. Why was she staring at his vehicle like that? She couldn’t see him due to the tinted windows, but there was something about her gaze that still struck him as….soothing, almost comforting. It was almost like he could feel her gaze and it stirred something inside of him, something that eased the pain a small amount. He pushed the feeling aside, reminding himself that showing emotions wasn’t allowed. Even being content right now would be inappropriate and his father would not approve. A blank face was what his father expected throughout the day. There were no other words from his father, but the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder back at the house, accepting each person’s condolences with a somber thank you or simple nod before they were invited to share in the reception. It seemed as if the line would never end but when he turned to the next person, he was surprised to see the blond Johanna standing beside her mother, Ellen Holbrook. Her blue eyes quickly revealed her sympathy before she hid that behind a cool mask of politeness. Ellen was greeting Edward’s father, so Edward took the offered hand as Johanna lifted her cool, blue eyes up to Edward. “I’m terribly sorry about your mother’s passing,” she said softly. Edward bowed slightly, taking the six year old’s cold hand in his. “Thank you very much, Lady Johanna,” he said with the same amount of civility. He thought she was very pretty and appreciated her decorum. someone so young. It was rare in Johanna’s mother touched the young girl’s shoulder and Johanna stepped out of the way, folding her hands in front of her and allowing her mother the appropriate few moments of relative privacy to express her own condolences. Edward bowed at Ellen’s comments as well before they moved off. Edward turned to glance out the door, trying to determine how much longer this would take. His eyes opened wider as he spotted the little brunette…and she was staring right back at him, those soulful eyes gave him pause. When it was finally her turn to greet him, Edward took her hand. It wasn’t cold. In fact, her warm, chubby hand wasn’t even empty. “This is for you,” she whispered and looked back at her father, ensuring that she wasn’t overheard or her gift seen by a parent. “It’s for you, to remember your mother by,” she said. A moment later, she was gone and Edward looked down at his palm. In it, she’d placed one white rose, the petals perfectly formed and one leaf still intact. Startled, Edward looked up, his heart hurting at the memory of all the white roses that had covered his mother’s coffin and surrounded her grave site. The little girl had torn one of those roses off, keeping it safe for him. A part of him wanted to crush the flower, to tear it apart just like the pain that was once again ripping through his body. The rose reminded him that his mother was now gone, that he’d never see her face or feel her warm hand on his shoulder or gently stroke his cheek. She’d never slip into his room at night to give him one more kiss goodnight. He was sixteen years old and those small things shouldn’t matter to him. He should be strong. He shouldn’t need his mother’s soft touch or her sweet perfume. And damn this rose! All those memories were rushing back, threatening to smother him. He took a deep, shuddering breath and pushed them down, forcing his mind to ignore those memories. He wouldn’t think about that right now. Later, when he was alone. He slipped the rose into his pocket, careful to not hurt the petals but needing the image out of his head. With iron determination, he turned to the next person in line, wondering if he’d missed anything during that horrible moment when he’d let his guard down. Little girls! What did they know?! With a blank face, he accepted the next handshake, the next comment about what a wonderful person his mother was. The ritual continued over and over again. Edward had no concept of time, just sheer grit getting him through the day and helping him to not break down as he thought about that flower in his pocket. Jessica…. She watched him closely, her small hand tucked into the warm security of her own mother’s hand. She couldn’t imagine losing her mother but Edward looked like he was bored. She knew that he wasn’t though. Something inside her told her that the teenage boy was in pain but trying very hard to pretend otherwise. She didn’t know how she knew, but as she watched him, she felt his pain as if it were a living, breathing force that drifted angrily among the mourners who were sitting politely at the graveside, all of them also hiding their emotions behind polite masks of either concern or blank stares. She knew that the boy wouldn’t cry, so she did it for him, wishing he could release his pain so that he could mourn his momma properly. It wasn’t right that he sat there so still, the pain of his loss written all over his face and in the stiffness of his shoulders, his whole body. Everything about Edward Livingston was stiff and sad and angry. She knew this, felt it and wanted to run over and wrap her arms around him. But she didn’t. She sat in between her mother and her father, behaving properly and demurely, just as she’d been told to do all morning long. But she couldn’t stop her tears. If he wouldn’t cry for his mother’s death, Jessica would do it for him. She could cry silently for all of the pain he was feeling but didn’t think he could show in front of the guests. She’d help him in this way and hopefully, some of his sadness would ease. When the funeral was over, she kept her eyes on him, willing him to let it out, to yell and scream and feel the sadness she knew he was feeling. But as the limousine rolled away with the sad man inside, her tiny heart wrenched for the despondent boy she knew he was. As the limousine moved forward, out of sight and towards the house where the reception was to be held, she had an idea that might help him through this difficult period. She looked up, knew that her mother was distracted enough talking to the lady from the church so she was conscious of the fact that she had only a few more moments. Jessica pulled her hand out of her mother’s and slowly walked over to the burial site. With a twist and a pinch, she took one of the roses from the large bouquet beside the grave. She wanted to climb down into the hole and get one of the roses that rested on the coffin, but that idea terrified her. The bouquet rose would have to do and she held it by her side, hiding it from everyone else by tucking it inside the folds of her dark jacket and dress. As she and her parents moved to their own limousine, Jessica was careful to not let anyone see her stolen flower. They would take it away, probably toss it out the window like it was trash. But it wasn’t. She knew it would help the sad boy. Maybe it would make him smile to know that he had a part of his momma’s flowers with him. The line to get into the house was long but Jessica gritted her teeth and stood as still as possible next to her parents. They spoke softly to the people in front and in back of them in the line, but there wasn’t anyone she could talk to. She wanted to run over to the small pond beside this house and look into the water, see what might be hiding in the murky depths or climb the old oak tree she saw in the distance with the perfect low-hanging branches, but she knew that her father would be upset with that kind of activity. Reverence for the deceased and respect for the living had been hammered into her head this morning over and over again so she was trying very hard to be still, which seemed like all they needed her to do. She had no idea how to be reverent or even what that meant. Respect, at least in her father’s household, meant little people like her being as quiet as possible. When they finally reached the receiving line, Jessica peered around the thick coats of the woman in front of her. Yes, the boy was still there and yes, his eyes were filled with pain, just as they had been at the funeral but there were no tears or any other indication that he was sad. His face was completely blank and Jessica suspected that she was the only one who could see past his polite smiles. When she reached him, she put her hand out, just like all the others, her big, brown eyes watching him carefully in case he needed more from her. When he bent down slightly, she looked up at him, her heart breaking for all the pain and sadness he was probably feeling. “This is for you,” she whispered. She said something else, but was too nervous of being caught, and the surprise in his eyes made her knees shake so she hurried off, finding a chair she could sit in and become inconspicuous. Why had she done something so silly? She sat on the edge of the chair, her face a blank mask as she worked hard to not cry. Funerals had enough people crying, they didn’t need a five year old girl who just felt ridiculous crying. While the adults moved around the room, talking quietly and sipping drinks, Jessica watched it all, taking everything in. She loved watching people, seeing their reactions to different events or comments. She saw the anger and frustration behind the polite masks. So many people milling about who really didn’t want to be here but they all pretended that they were fine. When she got to be an adult, she promised herself she wouldn’t do anything that she didn’t want to do! And she would never, ever sit still! Thirteen years later…. Jessica walked through the halls of school, smiling to her friends who were eagerly rushing to meet their parents. Jessica thought about her father who she knew was waiting to pick her up outside. She’d received a text from him just a few moments ago and knew that she should already be out there, but these were her last few moments of freedom and she wasn’t exactly eager to be going home, even if she hadn’t seen her parents in the past three months. Boarding school was more of a home to her than the house in which she’d grown up. She could be herself here and she loved the friendships she’d made. Besides, her father wanted to send her off to finishing school next year while all of her other friends were getting ready for university. She walked out into the late spring sunshine and immediately spotted her father. How could she miss him? He was pacing back and forth in front of his Mercedes, glancing at his watch impatiently. Why hadn’t he just sent her a ticket and money to catch a cab to the train station? Why had he even bothered to show up here to school to pick her up? “Hello father,” she said as she stepped forward where he could see her. Joseph looked at his daughter, surveying her immaculate appearance with a critical eye. “Hello, Jessica. It’s good to see you,” he said and leaned forward, putting his arms around her but not really hugging her. It was more of an air hug. He would say that he didn’t want to mess up her pressed shirt, but it really came down to two things. First and foremost, he didn’t want her to wrinkle his shirt. And secondly, he didn’t really like children, even his own offspring. She understood her father perfectly. Unlike some of her other friends who resented their fathers for their long absences or their strict natures, Jessica accepted that her father had procreated solely in order to carry on the family name. Unfortunately, he and Jessica’s mother were only able to have a female, much to her father’s everlasting irritation. Females, according to her father, could not carry on the family name and his legacy would be lost. Males were preferred in his mind. Oh, he loved her, in his own way and she respected him as a good provider and a man she knew she could trust. Jessica didn’t hate him for his lack of affection or his desire to have a son. She understood him, even though it hurt sometimes that fates had conspired to limit their relationship simply because of her gender. At the end of every day, she knew he was proud of her accomplishments and was more than eager to debate issues with her over dinner. But if she ever scored a winning point in the argument, his response was always, “Females just don’t understand,” and he would then change the subject. In other words, there were limits to his affection which she had accepted a long time ago. “How was the drive?” she asked as she handed her luggage over to her father’s driver who in turn loaded it into the trunk of the car. “Long,” he snapped. “Would you care to tell me why you are the last girl out of the dormitories today?” he asked sternly as he held the door to the back seat open for her. Jessica glanced back to her dormitory building and saw several other girls exiting at that moment. Her father had always been prone to exaggeration when it came to her deficiencies and she’d learned to just pretend like it didn’t bother her. She thought quickly, coming up with a reasonable explanation for her presumed tardiness. “I was hand delivering several thank you notes to my professors. They’ve been very valuable this year,” she lied, and didn’t have any guilt over the fib. Her father was being unreasonable, again, and this was her coping mechanism. She mitigated her guilt by being scrupulously honest with all others who weren’t as impatient and domineering. Her father nodded, accepting her answer. “How were your classes this semester?” he asked, looking straight ahead. Jessica went through her classes, explaining her perfect marks but knowing that he would prefer details rather than just the end result. When she was finished, he turned to face her. “You’ve become a very well rounded young lady, Jessica. I’m proud of you. And once you’ve completed finishing school, you’ll be married and have a very successful marriage.” Jessica cringed inwardly, not wanting to attend finishing school or get married just yet. She’d been anticipating this conversation for months, knowing what his plans were for her but not having the courage to contradict him, but also unwilling to follow his plan. “Father, I appreciate all that you’ve done for me and I know the Kilton School is an excellent finishing school.” He nodded sagely. “Yes, many good marriages are formed once a woman has finalized her classes at Kilton’s, as you well know. Your mother was also a graduate and I have high expectations for you as well. By the time you have finished in two years, I expect Robert Rothston to be prepared to marry. He would be an excellent candidate for a groom, Jessica.” Jessica couldn’t stop the grimace from crossing her features but thankfully her father was looking out the left side window at that moment. Her eyes looked at the driver who was glancing at her in the rear view mirror. He quickly glanced away as soon as she caught him, but she knew that he’d seen her. There was nothing to do but confront her father now. “Father, I’m not going to marry Robert Rothston,” she declared firmly. It had nothing to do with the ridiculous alliteration in the man’s first and last name. “I’m going to the University Of London on a full scholarship. I’ll be studying in their psychology department.” There, she’d said it and she let out the air that had been burning in her lungs. Her father’s head turned slowly to face his daughter and Jessica tried very hard to hide the shaking of her hands by folding them in her lap. “Excuse me?” he said ominously. Jessica knew this was the first time she’d ever openly defied him. She’d done it several times when he wasn’t aware, by taking certain classes at school or traveling to places without his knowledge. But completely defying him in this manner, by telling him that she was not going to marry and, even worse, that she’d gone and made plans for herself that he had no control over…this was going to be a blowup argument. But this was her life and she was now an adult. Her father could kick her out of the house, in which case she would have to find an apartment, get a job and pay any extra expenses herself. As she’d considered this option over the past year, she’d formed plans, researched issues and wasn’t afraid of anything facing her other than her father’s wrath. So many other students faced college with much less. She wasn’t afraid of hard work or even poverty. “And if I won’t allow this?” he asked, still turned away from her. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before saying, “I know that you’re going to disapprove. And that’s fine. You have the power not only to disown me for this decision but I know you also have the power to eliminate the scholarship I earned. If you feel that I’ve wronged you so horribly, I can leave the house and find housing on my own. I understand that you have a certain plan set out for me and I’m flying in the face of those plans. But this is what I’m going to do. Even if you cut me off, I will work full time as a waitress in some horrible, greasy spoon, and love it by the way, while I attend school on my own. But I’m not marrying as my career. I’m going to do something wonderful and productive with my life.” She waited for his response, but after several minutes of silence, he only said, “We’ll discuss this later.” Jessica slumped into the comfortable leather seat, wondering what was going through his mind. But she’d won this battle, at least for now and she was satisfied. The Earl’s Outrageous Lover Prologue – One Year Earlier Jessica Mallory stared at the man, stunned by what he’d just told her. “Please, tell me you’re kidding.” She wiped the tears from her eyes so she could focus more clearly on the tall, thin man sitting behind her father’s desk. The man straightened his yellow tie nervously. “I’m afraid it is no joke, Ms. Mallory.” She let out the air in her lungs and slumped back against the chair in stunned horror. “Fine. Just sell it all off. His assets don’t mean much to me anyway. Let someone else run the factories.” Her father’s irritating lawyer again shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not allowed.” Jessica couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It had been a horrible week that started with her parents dying in a car accident. There had been so many details to figure out and all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry out her grief. But every time she resolved one issue, someone came to her with yet another. Their death had occurred on Monday. The exhausting funeral had been Thursday morning and today, Friday, she was sitting with her father’s lawyer discussing her parents’ will and trying to figure out why her father had done something so insane. “What century did my father live in?” she whispered, shaking her head as she tried to absorb the terms of her father’s wishes. The man blinked. “Excuse me?” Jessica looked up, not realizing that she’d spoken out loud. “I was just wondering what century my father lived in,” she said more clearly. “This will would be more appropriate for someone who lived in the eighteenth century. The terms of this will are so outrageous. It’s like the plot to a really cheap novel!” The man smiled briefly because he agreed with the exquisite women. But he was only the messenger and it wasn’t his job to offer his opinion. The will had been drawn up by one of his colleagues six years earlier. “I agree that the terms are….unusual,” he stated as he looked down at the document, his mind whirling with the bizarre provisions. “But unfortunately, they are legal and binding.” Jessica thought through her options but she didn’t really appear to have any but one. “Okay, so let me get this straight. If I’m not married by the time I’m twenty-five years old, the three factories in Scotland, the one in Manchester and all the other entities my father accumulated over his lifetime will be shut down, the equipment inside each factory will be dismantled and sold for parts, the actual buildings in which these factories are house in will be blown up and over one thousand families will be out of a job.” The lawyer hesitated, but in the end, Ms. Mallory’s summation was complete. He pulled a piece of paper out of the filing folder and handed it to her. “Here’s a list of the contractors that have been retained to accomplish all of what you’ve just mentioned. So yes, your father was quite serious. He wanted you married and this was his way of accomplishing that.” Jessica couldn’t believe that her father…a memory came to mind, the day her father had picked her up from boarding school so he could tell her that he’d gotten her into one of the finest finishing schools in Great Britain, a school which would set her up perfectly for a well placed marriage. It was also the first time she’d ever defied her father. She’d sat in the back of the car next to him and told him that she wouldn’t be attending the finishing school of his choice. She’d calmly explained that she’d already applied to the University of London and would be attending that institution in the fall instead. She’d challenged him to disown her back then but he hadn’t. He’d waited. And now he was getting his revenge for her defiance. Why couldn’t he just be proud of her? She’d finished at the top of her class, had interned at some of the finest hospitals under great psychologists and psychiatrists. Didn’t he even care that she was following her heart? That she could help people and heal people? Apparently not, she thought as she looked out the large picture window, noticing the last of the catering trucks pulling out of the driveway of her father’s London home. A home which she now owned, or at least was allowed to live in until she married, at which time, ownership would then be transferred to her husband. What a mess, she thought. “I supposed I have some thinking to do, don’t I?” she finally replied to the lawyer who was calmly sitting at her father’s massive desk, looking painfully awkward. With those words of dismissal, he gathered up his papers and shoved them quickly into his leather briefcase. “Let me know if I can assist you in any way,” he said, taking her hand and bowing slightly before departing the house. Jessica didn’t stay in that room, disliking the dusty, musty smell. Her father had smoked cigars in that office with his cronies and the smell was still there so she wandered into the living room. Where her father’s office was bleak and dingy with dark wood paneled walls and heavy leather chairs, the living room was where her mother had held court. It was the opposite in every way. The walls were a soft cream color and the sofas were all done in a robin’s egg blue shade as were the curtains. There was a large fireplace where her mother used to curl up in front of on cold winter days or where she served tea to the various wives of her father’s business interests. She curled up on that sofa, pulling the cashmere throw down over her as the night descended. She still had no idea how to get herself out of this problem. But her mind refused to function. She was too hurt over everything she’d learned today. Her parents were gone now so she couldn’t even ask for an explanation. She had lots of friends, but no one she could really turn to for help with this kind of a predicament. There had been the name of the executor of her father’s will, but she didn’t think she’d ever met the man. At least she didn’t recognize the man’s name, but there were many people in and out of her father’s life so it could have been any one of his good friends. She fell asleep that night curled up on her mother’s sofa, the blue throw blanket wrapped around her. She didn’t sleep well though. Instead of a sound sleep after the exhausting events of the past week, she was plagued with dreams of wedding dresses floating around her head, taunting her and laughing because she couldn’t wear any of them. Nor could she reach the alter because a chain was wrapped around her ankle, keeping her from succeeding. The following morning, she showered and pulled on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt, trying to shrug off the disturbing dreams. One thing was clear, despite her groggy state of mind, she had to make a decision about what she was going to do about her father’s will and she couldn’t make that decision without facts. She had the directions to her father’s factories in one hand and an overnight bag in another. She was on a mission! It took her three hours but she finally found the first factory. Sitting outside in the parking lot, she smiled as she watched several of the workers wander out during their break. They sat on one of the low walls and sipped coffee or soda while punching each other on the shoulder as they joked about something. At the other end, there was a delivery door with suppliers coming and going, the whole operation looking very industrious. On the one hand, she was proud of her father for running such a smooth operation. But on the other hand, she really hated him for putting all of these peoples’ livelihoods at risk simply so he could get back at her for defying him that one time. And really, why would he care if she was married or not? It wasn’t as if she could guarantee that the man she married would be good at business. What if she married someone who liked history or maybe a scientist? Or just a simple accountant? That wouldn’t help lead these businesses to bigger and better things! Or even stability! What a mess, she thought as she drove away. It took her two days, but she went to every business her father had owned at the end of his lifetime. With some, she went inside, introduced herself and asked for a tour of the facility. At other times, she just sat in her car and watched, noticing small things about the workers and the industriousness of everyone around it. She realized two things during these tours. First of all, if she failed to find a husband, she wouldn’t just be putting her father’s workers out of business. She would be hurting hundreds of suppliers as well, not to mention the businesses that depended on the output of these factories. The second thing she realized was that she couldn’t let them down. She had to accomplish this mission, regardless of how much she disagreed with her father’s mandates. He’d done this to her, not to the workers. If she’d been a better daughter, she would have gone to him and worked with him to find a compromise. Instead, she’d simply gone off to school, ignoring his preferences because she’d considered this to be her life. Not anymore. Her choices for the next twelve months would result in so many people being able to pay their mortgage and put food on their tables. She wasn’t opposed to marriage. She just hadn’t thought she’d be married so young. But it wasn’t unheard of to be married by twenty-five. Her mother had been married by the age of twenty and had given birth at twenty-one. Oh, if only her mother had been able to conceive of another baby, she thought with a deep sadness that left tears streaming down her face. She curled her legs up underneath her and pulled the soft, blue cashmere blanket around her. Where would Jessica be right now if her father had been able to raise a son as well as a daughter? Or what if she’d been born a male instead of a female? What if she’d just given in and gone to finishing school as her father had wanted? If her marriage to…whoever he’d chosen hadn’t worked…would he still be angry with her? As exhaustion took over and her eyes closed, she accepted that these scenarios didn’t really matter. Because she had been an only child, she’d been born a female and she’d gone her own way at eighteen. So all her musings were pointless because, in the end, she was still here and she still had to face the hard reality that her father had distrusted her so much and been so angry at her defiance that he’d created a will that trapped her into looking for a husband over the next twelve months. The last thing she thought about before she gave in to sleep was that she needed to contact this Charles Livingston, the man named as executor of her father’s will, to see what he could do to help her through this problem of finding a husband quickly and under bizarre circumstances. Chapter 1 Edward Livingston, Earl of Locton, straightened his tie as he walked down the central stairway of his ancestral home, accepted the steaming hot, black coffee from his butler and walked out of the house, his mind already reviewing his busy schedule for the day. As he was every morning at this time, his driver Tim stood at the bottom of the stone stairs, the door to the back of the limousine open. Tim bowed ever so slightly as Edward descended the stairs. “Good morning, my lord.” “Good morning, Tim. How is Martha?” Edward asked, referring to Tim’s wife who helped out in the kitchens occasionally. “Very well, thank you, my lord.” And that was the end of Edward’s socializing with his staff for the day. He was already pulling out a file folder for his first meeting by the time Tim closed the door and walked around to the front of the vehicle. Edward pressed a button on the panel of his door to call his executive assistant and instantly a crisp, efficient voice greeted him. “Good morning, my lord,” Alice replied. Edward didn’t even acknowledge the greeting, nor praise her for being in the office before him and prepared for the day. He paid her a very good salary and he expected her to be professional, punctual and detailed. He called her precisely at seven-thirty each morning for any updates to his schedule or events that had occurred overnight. Alice rarely disappointed him and on those rare occasions when she did, he never raised his voice. He found that a pointed look was sufficient to gain the expected results he required of his staff. His companies ran like a well oiled machine and he expected results from everyone on his team, or they could find other employment. “Good morning, Alice.” He didn’t ask for the updates. Alice knew to simply deliver them since that was the exact purpose of this call. “I’ve already updated your schedule and it is on your blackberry and there is a printout in your morning file.” Edward pulled the printout from the file folder that Tim had ensured was on the seat before Edward walked out of the house. He glanced over the information, asking questions and handing out directions on several of the items. By the time the limousine pulled up to the headquarters building, he was fully briefed on the day’s upcoming events and walked straight into his first meeting. By ten o’clock that morning, he was passing by Alice’s desk, heading towards his own office when she called out for him. “I’m sorry, my lord,” Alice said, standing up and handing him a sheet of paper. “Your uncle has been calling every few minutes for the past two hours. Apparently, he’s been in a skiing accident in Switzerland and needs to speak with you urgently.” Edward didn’t show any outward sign of his irritation with his schedule being interrupted. He glanced at his watch and nodded. “Put the call through. I’ll take it in my office.” He walked into his office and sat down behind his large, steel and glass desk. The difference between the way Edward ran the Livingston holdings and his father’s methods was that Edward’s financial acumen had tripled the family’s net worth in the past 5 years whereas his predecessors had simply maintained the status quo. Edward enjoyed business and making deals, had a ten year plan to expand his holdings even further. He wasn’t satisfied with just maintaining. Expanding, creating, figuring out the next move and what his enemies and competitors would do before they even knew it themselves, that was the challenge that pushed him on each day. Some would consider the enormous weight of his responsibilities to be crushing, but he took everything in stride, analyzing the data and making rational evaluations based on facts and leaving emotions out of any equation and decision. He didn’t consider it to be a weight of responsibility, but more of a contest as to what he could do better, or bigger. His uncle, on the other hand, was not of the same opinion. After his father’s death ten years ago, Uncle Charles had urged Edward to have more fun, to take time off and go on genuine vacations. Edward didn’t need to take time off, he needed to get to his next meeting. And finding out why Uncle Charles was in the hospital, from skiing no less, was an irritation that would create several shifts in his schedule that weren’t appreciated. But family was important, and that had been drilled into him from childhood. Family, responsibility and the Earl of Locton title were what he had to constantly keep in mind during everything he did throughout each day. “Uncle Charles, why are you in the hospital?” he asked, looking down at the papers Alice had efficiently arranged on his desk. “Eddie, my boy! How the hell are you?” his uncle cheerfully answered, completely ignoring Edward’s question and using the hated nickname. The man didn’t sound like someone who had just been in a skiing accident, Edward thought absently. Edward’s mind was focused more on the contract Alice had place in the center of his desk, the contract he would be discussing in his next meeting that would finalize his company’s purchase of a business worth more than three billion dollars. “Busy. What’s going on and why are you in the hospital?” he asked, repeating his question, pushing the contract back after checking the clauses he’d been concerned about while his mind already started going over the details for his next meeting. His uncle wasn’t fazed by Edward’s impatient tone at all, used to it from years of experience. “Look away from all of your papers Eddie. something important to discuss with you, my boy.” I have Edward sighed and did as his uncle asked, taking a seat in the large leather chair and spinning around so that he was looking out at the London skyline instead of the contracts and reports. “Okay, you have my undivided attention. Now will you tell me why you are in the hospital? Alice mentioned you’d broken your leg while skiing but surely that doesn’t require a hospital stay, does it?” Charles chuckled softly and Edward heard some music in the background. “Not normally, but when an old man like me gets knocked down while racing, that creates a bit of a nuisance break. Apparently, the leg needs to heal a bit before I can put any weight on it. They also said something about my heart, but that’s pointless at this stage of the game.” That caught Edward’s attention. “What’s wrong with your heart, Uncle Charles?” he asked, more alert and concerned than he had been a moment ago. Uncle Charles might be outrageous and irresponsible, but he was family. The only family he had left and he didn’t like hearing that something might be threatening the man’s health. “I’m an old man, Edward! That about sums it all up.” “Nonsense,” Edward countered. “I’ll have Dr. Mamford arrive in the morning. He’s the best cardiologist in the world. Let him examine you and he’ll get you fixed up.” Charles laughed again, emotion filling the sound. “You’re a wonderful man, Edward. You just need to loosen up a bit and have some fun. Don’t worry about Dr. Mamford. The doctors here are taking wonderful care of me. But I have a favor to ask. I’ve committed to something and with my broken leg, I won’t be able to fulfill that commitment. I was hoping you could take over and finish up the issue.” “Of course. Send me the documents and I’ll wrap up the issue for you.” He was still going to have the doctor review his uncle’s medical files, already making a note to Alice to have the hospital send the medical information over to the renowned cardiologist. “Well, it isn’t really a document but it’s a legal matter.” “Just send it over. Don’t worry about anything, just concentrate on getting healthy again.” “Slow down. Before you take on this challenge, understand that there’s a deadline of only a matter of weeks.” Edward shook his head. details,” he said patiently. “No matter, Uncle Charles. Just send me the “She’s twenty-four years old, a stunning beauty, lots of fun and she needs to get married in two week’s time.” Edward was completely confused now. “Excuse me?” he replied after a long pause while he absorbed his uncle’s statement. Charles laughed again, delighted that he’d been able to stun his always calm and collected nephew. “I’m the executor of her father’s will. And her father demanded that she get married by the time she was twenty-five or she loses all of her inheritance. But she turns twenty-five in two weeks, Edward. And she hasn’t found anyone who sparks an interest and she’s willing to marry a man who is kind and generous who has already proposed. Unfortunately, they don’t love each other and this little woman deserves something better. The only reason her father is doing this to her now is because she defied him about his plans for her future. There are a lot of jobs at stake and this little beauty is distraught over the fact that she can’t save everyone. She’s willing to marry a man she doesn’t love at this point just to save those jobs. I can’t let that happen.” “Is she that obnoxious?” he asked, wondering what could be so difficult about finding a groom for a wealthy heiress. It should have taken days, not months. “On the contrary. Everywhere we go, she meets people and they are instantly part of her social group. She loves all of her friends and they return the feelings. The men’s feelings are significantly deeper than just friendship, but she sees all of them only as friends and nothing more, even though they tend to fall all over themselves to gain her attention. Not that she’d notice though. She’s too kind and generous to hurt their feelings, thinking they’re all her best friend. Unfortunately, just not husband material. Like I said, she’s beautiful and lively and she has a love of life that’s contagious, hence the reason I’m in a hospital bed instead of home reading my boring books. We’ve been trotting all over Europe looking for the ideal groom and having a wonderful time, but she hasn’t found anyone with whom she would want to marry.” “And that’s where I come in?” Edward asked, already mentally lining up eligible bachelors for the woman in question. He had several social engagements over the next few days. He figured he could introduce her to some appropriate men and have this finished by the weekend. It was Wednesday, perhaps Alice could arrange the wedding by the following Saturday. He had to be in Rome by the following Monday so that would work out well. “Exactly. If you’re up for the challenge. She’s vivacious and charming, but she has a mind of her own.” “Don’t worry Uncle Charles,” he said, ready to lay down the law to whatever irresponsible party girl had attached herself to his uncle. “I’ll handle her and get her married off quickly. Just heal up and I’ll see you for the wedding.” “I knew I could count on you. She’s on her way already and should be there soon.” “I’ll have Tim pick her up at the airport then.” Charles chuckled at Edward’s offer. “Don’t worry about picking her up. She can get to your office easily.” Edward grimaced, picturing several things in his mind on how she would obtain a ride from the airport to his office. “That’s fine. What’s her name?” “You might even know of her,” Charles replied. “She was much younger, but I know your father and hers socialized occasionally. Her name is Jessica Mallory and she’s an absolute delight! Be kind to her, Edward. She’s been through a great deal, losing both of her parents just over eleven months ago. Apparently she was very close to her mother even though they were very strict and possibly a bit old fashioned, but she’s moved on with grace and dignity, embracing life with both arms.” Edward refrained from rolling his eyes. “Understand, Uncle Charles. Send over her parents’ will and I’ll ensure that she fulfills the obligations of their provisions.” “I know you will, dear boy!” he chuckled. “The documents should already be on the way. Good luck! Remember, two weeks and she has to be married.” “Understand,” Edward repeated. “I’ll check in with you this weekend.” Charles shook his head as he hung up the phone. His plan was in place and he almost laughed out loud at how easily Edward had fallen into the trap. It was all for his own good, he told himself. Jessica would breathe some life into Edward’s dreary existence if his nephew would just allow her to work her magic. She’d definitely done it for him and he already thought of Jessica as an angel. One that he wanted in his family more than anything. The only obstacle was Edward’s monumental stubbornness, he thought with a small kernel of concern. But he knew that Jessica was perfect for Edward. If anyone could break through that tough, hard exterior Edward showed to the outside world, it would be Jessica’s kind, gentle and loving touch. The Tycoon’s Resistant Lover - An Introduction Julianna’s Story…. “Stop biting your nails!” her mother whispered harshly. Six year old Julianna immediately whipped her hands out of her mouth and hid her broken nails behind her skirt. She didn’t want her mother to know that she’d been doing it at night. She sighed as she followed her elegant mother through the white room filled with flowers. It was the gardening committee’s monthly meeting and Julianna was required to parade around for her mother’s friends, all of whom would then provide the obligatory praise on Julianna’s looks or height or whatever struck them at the moment. It was such a tedious pretense. It irked her that the old ladies acted so surprised when they looked upon her at these sorts of gatherings. Had she been a troll as a child? Or are their kids so ugly that they are now surprised someone from their social group could have an attractive child? Not that she thought she was particularly beautiful. She was just a normal kid with blond hair and blue eyes. Boring blond and tedious blue, she thought as she looked at one of the blue hydrangeas on the table in front of her. Yes, she almost blended in with the décor. Her blue eyes were virtually the same color as the flowers, she realized. How uninteresting. She took her white gloves out of her small white purse and slipped them on, thinking to cover her fingernails so that her mother wouldn’t see the damage she’d done last night. If her mother discovered the bitten nails, she’d put that horrid liquid on them that made her eyes water and her tongue hurt. Julianna looked around, seeing other girls among the old ladies in their stiff, uncomfortable looking suits. The other girls didn’t seem to mind being here. But Julianna minded very much. She didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to eat the tasteless food and she definitely didn’t care a hoot about silly flowers. In her opinion, everyone should just plant a bunch of bushes that didn’t bloom so that these kinds of meetings, where boring, elderly ladies discussed rotting blooms and shrubs that didn’t bloom ‘quite as brilliantly as last year’, or even worse, when the discussed bugs in those ridiculous secret terms. She had gotten into trouble last month when she’d rolled her eyes after a comment about a particularly bad infestation of aphids which were described only as ‘disgusting bump bugs’. It was the combination of the description as well as the knowing nods of the many grey heads that got to her. There was no way, in her six year old mind, that all of these ladies could figure out that ‘disgusting bump bugs’ were really aphids. The only reason Julianna could translate was because she’d read in her science book about the issue on roses. Seriously, couldn’t they just order a bunch of lady bugs and be done with the problem? So here she sat, perfectly still and not rolling her eyes, smiling politely when someone commented about her hair or her dress, or whatever it was that caught their eye at the moment of approach. The compliments weren’t genuine, just another requirement of polite conversation during these sorts of meetings. It was all agonizingly superficial. “Sit up straight,” her mother snapped under her breath while maintaining her polished smile, and Julianna’s back straightened even more than she thought possible. Two hours later, Julianna was sitting at the dining room table at home, her spine hovering the required two inches from the back of the chair, her hands placed on her lap as she chewed her food twenty times before taking the next small bite. As her mother admonished constantly, bites of food should be small enough to swallow quickly so that one may respond to one’s dinner companion’s questions or conversations. She could never understand why the small bites were necessary when it was just family, she thought, because her parents’ conversations were mainly malicious sniping at each other. Her mother and father hated each other but presented the perfect family to the outside world. Images must be maintained, she’d been told over and over again. “Honestly child! How can you do something so inappropriate?” Julianna’s startled blue eyes shifted to her mother’s censorious expression. She wasn’t sure what rule she’d broken now, but she stopped moving, going completely still as she waited to hear about her latest infraction. Julianna’s mother scowled across the table, then sighed as if her patience had run out. “Just go to the kitchen to eat,” she snapped with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Margo, please take my daughter’s plate to the kitchen, I can’t stand watching that kind of behavior any longer.” Julianna’s father didn’t even look up from his newspaper, just turned the page as the maid who had been standing sentry by the dining room doorway stepped forward and took Julianna’s plate and glass of milk, carrying both to the kitchen silently. As Julianna entered the kitchen, the warmth and smells of freshly baked bread hit her full force and she stopped, looking around in awe and wonder. The kitchen was nothing like the sterile elegance of the dining room and she desperately wanted to move about and explore this new area. Instead, she sat down on the stool that had been moved to one of the old oak tables, her plate placed in front of the stool. The cook was a large woman with a ruddy complexion that tsked the moment she saw Julianna’s skinny frame perched nervously at the wooden counter. “Just sit right down there, dearie and have a good meal. Don’t you worry about anything,” the cook said with her heavy Manchester accent. Julianna stared at the bustling woman, amazed at how much she looked like the cooks in her fairy tale stories. Her whole body was round and her cheeks were red from the heat of the stove. Her eyes even sparkled like the pictures of Santa Claus. She’d never seen anyone this merry in her life and the atmosphere almost terrified her. She didn’t understand how to sit or eat when so many people were bustling about. Her father employed a household staff of more than fifteen people including maids and gardeners, most of whom she’d never met before because they were required by their contracts to stay out of sight. But to a six year old’s eyes, the staff were completely different from the people she knew from her mother’s meetings and her classes. She sat carefully on the stool and picked up her fork, her eyes wide and her ears attentive as she listened to the magical sounds of the kitchen and household staff. They joked and teased, each of them passing her by and nodding in her direction, some of them bold enough to actually greet her with a smile. Her fingers touched the rough surface of the wooden countertop that had been in the kitchen for centuries, the wood sanded down when needed. The result was a rough, somewhat flat surface with nicks and dents, gouges in places even where some unknown chef had angrily chopped something and missed. The smells were so delicious and she ate her meal in peace while she watched and absorbed everything around her. From that night forward she ate her meals in the kitchen and loved it. Gone were the upset stomachs and headaches and she went from being a pale, almost sickly looking child to one that blossomed like the English roses each summer. Her pale beauty shone out to all who bothered to look at the quiet, elegant woman. She still had to attend functions with her mother and occasionally with both parents. But she didn’t cower in fear and confusion, terrified of breaking some rule with her horrible behavior. Eating in the kitchen changed her life, for the better. Ten Years Later…. “Julianna, you’ll be dining with us tonight,” her mother announced as she made her way down the grand staircase in a black, silk dress. Julianna had just returned home from boarding school. Receiving perfect scores once again this year, of course. Her father would not accept anything less than perfection from his offspring. Julianna’s heart sank because she had been eagerly looking forward to catching up with the household staff after her return home. “Of course, mother,” she said politely as she carried her bags up the staircase to her room. “It’s good to be home.” Her mother turned and looked up at Julianna, a confused look on her face. Understanding dawned on her. “Ah, yes. Of course, welcome home dear.” With those words of welcome, her mother continued down the stairs to greet the guests who were arriving for dinner. “I’ve selected appropriate gowns for the evening. Go change and hurry downstairs, Julianna. You’re expected.” Julianna entered her room and set her suitcase down just inside the doorway. Russel, the chauffer, would be bringing her other luggage and trunk up later so she had a few moments to enjoy the peace of being back in her home. Funny, but her room seemed to greet her more than her mother had. The gracious furniture was exactly as it had been before she’d left with the Queen Anne headboard and dressers placed at perfect angles in the room. Everything had been done by a decorator when she’d been ten at her mother’s direction. But there were secrets in this room. Things her mother didn’t know about. She ran her fingers along the back side of her bed, feeling the nicks where she’d counted out the days until she went away to boarding school last summer. There were seventy seven of them, she knew. On the inside drawer of her large dresser, there was a calendar hidden on the bottom. She hurried over and slipped it out of her hiding space and looked at the dates there. Yes, only eleven weeks until she was back in school. She glanced at the bed and selected the dress she would wear for the night. There were two options. A pink one with bows or a blue one with no bows. Julianna hadn’t worn bows since she was eight years old, but her mother didn’t know that. She showered and dried her hair, brushing it into a smooth, sophisticated twist. Adding a touch of makeup, she then pulled on the blue dress. It was still youngish looking, but if she snipped a bit here, and tucked in a seam over here, she might just make this into something more fashionable. As she stared at her appearance in the mirror, she found that she liked her reflection. Perhaps just a bit too thin still. And she wished she had larger breasts, but hopefully those would still come in time. But she wanted her image to be approved by her parents. Her fingernails even looked good, she thought as she opened the door to descend the stairs. James’ Story…. “This way!” James called out, running through the field at a breakneck speed while he looked up in the air, his tongue off to one side as he concentrated. With a whoosh, the baseball fell right into his baseball mitt and he held it up high, showing the crowd that he’d caught the ball. Even from this distance in outfield, literally way out in the field with knee high grass all around him and cicadas doing their chatting, he could hear the applause. The runner was out and he jogged back to the field, grinning from ear to ear. As soon as he was close enough, his whole team converged on him at once, jostling him every which way as they dog piled the guy who won the game for them. “Enough!” a stern voice said from above. James and twelve other boys all froze, looking up at the coach, James’ blond hair caked with dust from the dog pile and sweat and his big, teenager body scuffed in various places from his antics both on and off the field. “Get up, you Neanderthals,” Coach ordered. Then lowered his hand to James and another boy who were at the bottom of the dog pile, both of them covered in red dust. “Good job,” he said and patted both boys on the back. “Go get cleaned up.” James nudged his friend Bobby. “Race you to the dugout,” he said. A nanosecond later, both boys were racing to the dugout, almost bloodying themselves to get there first, laughing hilariously as they slid into the doorway and almost knocking their heads on the cement block wall. “You’re both idiots,” Liz scoffed. His youngest sister was standing near the dugout with her brown hair cascading down her back in unbrushed glory. “Mom says you’d better get home quick because it’s your turn to take out the trash.” With that, she turned on her heel and ran away, determined to not be around when her oldest brother was off the ground. That was always bad news. James glanced up at the summer sky, the heat beating down on him but he didn’t care. At sixteen, life was pretty good. “Are you taking Diane to the party tonight?” Bobby asked as they both gathered up their equipment and slung it over their shoulders for the walk home. “Sure am,” James replied with a grin. “I think you should break up with her. She’s no good for you.” James scoffed. “Right. You just want a shot at her yourself.” Bobby laughed. “Of course!” James punched his friend on the arm as they walked down the street. “I got a job for the summer though. Want to help me? The foreman over on Jersey Street needs helpers to clean up the lot.” “How much does it pay?” he asked, not sure he wanted to commit to something that tedious. “More than you’d get paid sitting around playing video games,” James teased, again with another punch which earned him a punch right back. “Okay. But if it interferes with my attempts to break up you and Diane, the deal is off.” “Right,” James came right back. The following day, James and Bobby reported to the work site. James was bigger than Bobby, in fact, he was almost bigger than most of the other workers, so he had the harder jobs like loading up the big wheel barrows and dumping the heavy construction materials in the dump truck. But that also meant that he got paid a little bit more so he didn’t mind too much. One afternoon in late summer, James was playing gopher with the foreman and the architect as they visited the work site that was about to break ground. James stood off to the side, a long piece of grass in his mouth as he chewed on the end. The other two men were looking at the drawings and James, curious, wandered over to look at what was happening. The site was a complicated map of the buildings and where they’d go, how they would fit in with the current streets and city sewer lines. His eyes took it all in at once. He’d never seen anything like it before, but to his sixteen year old mind with a knack for math and geometry, he easily pictured the rows of houses and townhouses that were scheduled to be built. “Why did you do it like that?” he asked, pointing to the drawing’s bottom corner. Jordan Miller, the architect scowled at the teenager. “Just stand off to the side, son. We have to figure this out.” The foreman, Derrick Hicks, took a bit more interest in James, having worked with the kid over the past several weeks. “The project might not happen James. The profit margins aren’t wide enough. At least not in this market.” James didn’t move away as instructed. He stared down at the drawings, his mind angling things differently than what was currently planned. With half an ear, he listened to the conversation and absorbed it all. “Why don’t you just build another set of townhomes over here,” he suggested, interrupting their conversation. He ignored their scowls and turned the drawings around. Grabbing the slide rule out of the architect’s hands and the pencil off of the foreman’s right ear, he moved the ruler around on the drawings. “Here, you change these from single family homes here,” he said, pointing to the left bottom corner where a field was placed. “Then shift those single family homes so they are over here. Drop a foot of space between these homes,” he looked up at the other two men with a let’s-be-real look, “will they really miss that extra foot?” then pointed to where he was looking, “And put three more homes here. That would push the profits over to…” he used the numbers the two men had been discussing to recalculate the cost and profit margins, “Twenty percent and you’ll have the needed margins for the project instead of the three percent that this drawing will generate.” The architect looked down at the numbers and the lighter drawings the boy had made. At first, he was going to snap at the foreman to get this kid out of the way. But as he examined the suggestion, twisting the plans to the right and left, then did the calculations in his own although doing them on paper and with a calculator, he realized that the kid was right. “How did you do this?” Jordan asked, staring at him with awe and disbelief. James grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “It just makes sense,” he replied, then pushed his hands into his pockets and went back to leaning against a tree with a fresh piece of grass in his mouth. That evening, James walked into the house and raced upstairs to shower before his mother found, or rather smelled him. “James, hurry up and come help set the table,” her mother called out. He groaned, wondering how she had heard that he was even in the house. He’d been quiet! At least he’d thought he’d been pretty stealthy. James hurried into the shower, tying knots in his sister’s bra just because several were laying across the top of the shower stall and he knew it would infuriate her. He then jumped into the shower and lathered himself quickly before jumping out again. The banging on his door told him that the gig was up. “James! If you’ve done anything to my clothes in there, you’re gonna get it!” Gracie, his middle sister called out in warning. He grabbed a towel and dried himself while scooping up his own clothes at the same time. Opening the door, he barreled through the doorway and down the hall to his bedroom, slamming the door only moments before he heard her screech his name, followed almost immediately with, “Mom, would you look at what he did to my bras?” As the oldest of five, James was also the only one that had his own room. But that didn’t mean it was ever empty. Thomas let the car magazine drop so he could watch James pull on his boxers and jeans. “What did you do to Gracie?” he asked, unperturbed by the noises coming from the floor below them. In their house, someone was almost always yelling or in trouble. Thomas was just glad it wasn’t him this time. James laughed as he pulled a clean tee-shirt over his head. “The temptation was too great,” he said as he grabbed a pair of socks. “I tied four of her bras in knots. They were there, the idea occurred to me, I had to act.” Thomas snorted and lifted his magazine, his mind already absorbed in the intricacies of cars, his latest passion. “Boys!” his mother called out from the bottom of the stairs. Both James and Tom froze, staring at each other as they waited for the next part of her bellow. “Come downstairs to help set the table.” With a grin of relief, James ran his fingers through his hair, then pushed his brother off his bed. Since it was a tiny room, Tom fell onto the floor and almost hit his head. James didn’t wait around, but rushed through the door and down the stairs, Tom right on his heels. Their mother was at the doorway so both of them had to screech to a stop. “You!” she said, pointing to James, “are in charge of plates and glasses.” Turning to Tom, “You have condiments. Get to work.” The two brothers immediately set about doing as she ordered, but as they passed by each other while doing their assignments, they took precious moments to punch one another or smack the back of his opponent’s head. Life in the Cavanaugh house was always a contact sport and if you couldn’t handle it, just step to the side and stay out of the way. Within five minutes, the table was set. A moment later, Mr. Cavanaugh stepped into the house, putting his briefcase down by the door. He kissed his wife on the cheek, then both of them sat down. All five children knew that the moment their parents sat down was their cue to take their own seats. Anyone not sitting down during the dinner prayers would not be allowed to eat. With three huge teenage boys and two preteen girls, food was as essential as breathing. The only calm moment of the day at the Cavanaugh house was during the prayers as their father’s deep, resonant voice thanked God for the food present and asked for the continued health of his wife and children as well as continued hope for peace in the world. A fraction of a second after seven voices said, “Amen,” hands were flying across the table. The wooden spoon had to be brought out tonight as his mother smacked hands that were reaching inappropriately. “Calm down Mike,” she said to the youngest boy who was in between Gracie and Liz. “You’ll get fed. There’s no need for any kind of grabbing.” As the meal progressed, teasing was doled out to anyone who deserved, or even didn’t deserve it. Activities throughout the day were discussed, politics argued over and challenges issued about almost any subject. After the initial feeding frenzy, things calmed down and an all around conversation could be had. That didn’t mean that the meal was quieter, just that it wasn’t as crazy. Cleanup was just as dangerous as the setting of the table with lots of ducking going on. The boys taunted the girls, the girls teased the boys and the boys smacked each other around when a particularly good zinger was tossed out. The phone rang about eight o’clock that evening and everyone looked up from their books or computer as their father picked up the phone. “Hello?” he asked with an authoritative voice. James swallowed hard when his father’s eyes moved in his direction, his eyebrows narrowing as he listened. “I see,” his father said, nodding his head. James had the knotted up bras on his lap and a pair of tweezers as he worked out all the knots he’d tied in Gracie’s underwear before his shower. James grimaced and thought back to any trouble he might have caused recently. Nothing particular came to mind, but who said his infraction had to be recent? “Yes, he’ll be there. Tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. Thank you.” As his father put down the phone, James raised his eyebrows. “That was an architect named Jordan Miller. He wants your help tomorrow in his office to work out the final details on the new site map he’s creating.” He let that statement hang in the air as seven pairs of eyes stared back at him. “Do you have something to explain?” James laughed and shook his head, relieved that he wasn’t in trouble. “They were having problems today on the new site trying to figure out how to make it profitable. They were going to give up, so I just helped them out a little.” He looked at his mom who had a worried expression on her face. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” He heard the snort but wasn’t sure who did it. “At least not this time,” he amended with a grin and a smack on the back of Tom’s head, just for general purposes and because he was sitting next to him on the couch. His father nodded sagely. “I see. So you single handedly increased the profit margins of a multi-billion dollar project from three percent to nineteen point eight percent profit and you didn’t think to mention this during dinner?” James shrugged and leaned forward, pressing the knot of bras into the cushions of the sofa. “It wasn’t that hard, Dad.” His father just continued to nod, watching his oldest son carefully. “Okay, well, you’re going to work in an office tomorrow, son. So make sure to wear your Sunday clothes at least. I’ll drop you off at seven thirty.” And that was the end of that conversation. His mother stepped around two long legs on her way to the kitchen to get more tea. Along the way, she pulled the knot of bras out from underneath the cushion and dumped them back in her son’s lap for additional unknotting. “Good work son,” she said and bent to kiss the top of his head affectionately. Ten Years Later…. James walked through the parking lot, heat beating down on him from both above with the sun and below as the asphalt radiated the Colorado heat back up at him. He squinted his eyes as he took in the angle of the sun, then wrote down several numbers on the note pad. After walking the site several more times, he had everything he needed. Heading back to the office in his truck, he turned the air conditioner up to full blast, enjoying the heat now that he wasn’t in it any longer. “Good morning, Mr. Cavanaugh,” his efficient secretary said as soon as he walked into the temporary headquarters. “Here are your messages, sir,” she said and pushed the glasses higher onto her nose. “You have a meeting with the mayor in five minutes and your foreman showed up a half hour ago saying that there were more problems. James didn’t bother rolling his eyes, but a part of him thought about firing the idiot foreman. Every time he came to this office his foreman was coming up with a new problem instead of making suggestions to overcome the obstacles. “Send in Joe now,” he said, referring to the foreman. “Tell the mayor I’ll be right with him and call these people back and tell them that I have all the funding I need.” “But you haven’t looked at the messages,” she said with surprise. She took them back automatically but raced after him in her sensible shoes to argue that he should probably at least talk to some of them. “I don’t need to. I know what happens at this stage of any project. Tell them thanks but no thanks.” He turned to face her, gave her a charming wink and almost chuckled as her sixty year old cheeks pinkened, then turned around as he turned into the conference room where his foreman was standing, nervously pacing the room. “What’s the problem now, Joe?” Joe shook his head. “I know you have a reputation for fixing the impossible, but even you can’t get around this issue.” Joe bent over the conference room table and started talking, showing James the documents and the plans, then looked up at him with deep anxiety. Ten minutes later, Joe walked out of the conference room chuckling and shaking his head. Once again, astounded by the way the younger man had resolved this latest issue. That was probably why he was just the foreman and James Cavanaugh was one of the richest men in real estate. Joe almost bumped into a man as he hurried out of the office, then realized who it was and just about bowed. “Sorry, Mr. Mayor. I’m trying to…never mind,” he stammered and hurried out, eager to apply the workaround James had come up with. James watched the man hurriedly leaving the office and shook his head. Looking around, several of the female employees glanced quickly away and James sighed. He had to get out of the office, he thought. Too many distractions and not enough challenges. He walked by his manager’s office. “Jeff, I’m going on location to find the next project with the mayor. Call me if anything comes up.” Jeff smiled as his boss walked out. There wasn’t ever a dull moment with this man. Jeff was sixty years old this year and he’d been working for the young James Cavanaugh for the past four and hadn’t regretted his decision for a moment. The hours were long but it was always exciting working for someone with that kind of vision and intellect. The Tycoon’s Resistant Lover Julianna Holbrook sipped the cold white wine and shifted her back so it was more towards the orange flames of the crackling fire. She was suddenly cold and she shivered as she rubbed her icy hands over her wool covered arms to warm them. Or was it just that ominous feeling she couldn’t shake? That foreboding sense of impending doom that had nothing to do with the air temperature? She’d never considered herself a superstitious person before. She believed there was a scientific explanation for everything, even when humans couldn’t explain something yet. But this was a feeling that wasn’t really tangible. It was…just…a sensation. Almost an awareness that something was going to happen. Just an expectation, probably. When had this feeling started? Why was she being so silly and even thinking about it? Normally, she would simply shrug off something so….metaphysical for lack of a better term. So why was she wasting any energy trying to decipher to this odd sensation now? She had no idea, but she wiggled again, trying to get comfortable. This was ridiculous, she told herself and smoothed the ice blue wool skirt back over her knees, crossed her legs at the ankles….tucked the pillow more firmly behind her. She still couldn’t get comfortable! There was just something…..wrong. She looked at the other two occupants of the room, wondering if they were feeling this odd, tingling sensation as well. Edward Livingston, her significant other, for lack of a better word because boyfriend seemed too juvenile, appeared to be engrossed in a conversation with their vivacious hostess, a beautiful woman named Jessica Mallory who wore a fabulous pink dress that hugged her incredible figure, adorned with gold chains around her neck and wrists along with gold hoop earrings. Her curly hair swished and danced about her face as if nothing could be still around her. In fact, the air surrounding the mysterious and beautiful Jessica Mallory seemed to be vibrating with energy as her chocolate brown eyes smiled at both her and Edward while the three of them conversed. Julianna smoothed her blond hair self-consciously. The glossy, elegant twist she’d pulled it into for the dinner party was still in place but she wished she’d worn a color other than the light blue dress. The material was excellent and the cut made the dress a perfect fit for her figure, but she felt washed out, bland, especially compared to the fabulously adorned Ms. Mallory. Unfortunately, Julianna melted into the décor. The walls were cream, about the same color as her hair and the sofa was blue, nearly the same color as her dress. She sighed as she thought about how often she looked like the decorations. It seemed to be an issue that plagued her consistently Jessica Mallory probably never had that problem, she thought. The bright pink looked extraordinary on her. It took a great deal of confidence to pull off that color and Jessica added just the right touch with the gold chains. Julianna fingered her demure pearl necklace, wishing she had the kind of confidence to wear something with more flair and flamboyance. When the doorbell rang, Julianna jumped, strangely feeling as if the tension in the atmosphere had suddenly increased. Which it probably had because their hostess didn’t look like she was expecting anyone else for dinner. Jessica’s eyes were wide with concern as she glanced between her guests and the doorway to the living room where she heard her housekeeper start to answer the door. Julianna’s eyes snapped to Edward’s. “Did you invite anyone else, perhaps?” she asked. She immediately felt guilty when she caught the sharp glance he gave her. Both Edward and Jessica were wondering why she sounded so snappish. It was only because of this dratted premonition of doom! But she couldn’t say anything, afraid of sounding ridiculous. Before she could apologize to Edward, a deep voice was already booming from the foyer into the living room and Julianna glanced at their hostess. Jessica’s face lit up as she recognized her unexpected visitor, her pace increasing as she moved towards the front door to greet the newcomer with visible excitement. “I’m looking for Jessica Mallory. Is she in tonight?” the booming, male voice declared as if he had every right to crash their quiet evening. Julianna heard the voice and her hand froze in mid air, her wine glass inches from her mouth while her eyes snapped towards the door. That deep, resonant voice sent shivers through her body, making her uncomfortable. Embarrassingly uncomfortable! Who on earth could have that deep of a voice? It was like Barry White with a bit of gravel as well as a touch of southern charm thrown in just for zing. Edward’s voice was deep and made her think of intense, rich coffee, but this voice was more….disturbing in a way that made her knees wobble and her heart rate increase. Just by the sound of a man’s voice? Ridiculous, she told herself, but she put her wine glass on the coffee table because her hands were shaking ever so slightly. “James?” Jessica called out, her feet moving faster as she tried to peer around the door. “Is that really you?” Johanna felt an intense stab of jealousy shoot through her as the vibrant brunette hurried towards the voice in question. Something inside of her wanted to shout out that the other woman needed to step back and slam the door shut, warn her not to let the strange man into her house. She actually glanced around the room, wondering if there was a place to hide and then realized how silly she was being. Hiding? At a dinner party no less? This had to be the most outrageous thought she’d ever had in her life! Instead of following her ridiculous instincts, she pulled herself together, gave herself a stern lecture about greeting others properly and, with as much dignity as she could muster, rose from the sofa to stand and welcome the newcomer. Before she was ready for the intrusion, a tall, muscular man with enormous shoulders filled the doorway to the living room and her knees instantly started shaking. He was about the same height as Edward, but with a different look about him. Where Edward was refined power wrapped in a mask of elegance and manners, this man was just raw, blatant strength. There was no masking anything with the tall, blond man, just an almost painful shock to her senses that had her grabbing the arm of the sofa to steady herself from the man’s sensuous impact on her mind, not to mention the effect his presence had on her body. His black turtleneck showed off his muscles to perfection and his long legs were encased in black slacks, but she instantly wished he were wearing jeans. Jeans that would mold to his long, muscular legs and….what was she thinking? She was practically an engaged woman and she was picturing another man in jeans? She didn’t even wear jeans herself! And this man was a stranger! They hadn’t been introduced as of this moment and she was already reacting to him in such a physical….carnal way. She worked hard to suppress her instant reaction, trying to hide her body’s response behind a polite mask of mild interest as the large man’s startling blue eyes swiftly took in the occupants of the room other than the woman in his arms. When his eyes collided with hers, she felt as if an electric shock had just zoomed through her body. He was still ten feet away and she inhaled sharply when his eyes stopped and looked back at her. She suddenly felt hot and cold as his eyes slowly traveled up and down her body, acting as if he had the right to visually accost her in such a manner. She glared back at him, telling him with her eyes that he was out of line and acting horribly rude. But the man was audacious and instead of being contrite and looking away as any normal guest would do, his eyes held hers and his grin widened. The man actually caressed her with his eyes in front of the other two people! When he looked back down at Jessica, Julianna released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, sliding her palms along the sides of her dress as she noticed that her hands were sweating. How adolescent, she thought with derision. When had she reverted to being eighteen again? Julianna sighed inwardly and shook herself to refocus her mind. She should not be thinking about this stranger. Not in jeans, slacks or in any other way. And especially not naked! She blinked and tried to pull her eyes away from his broad shoulders and gain control of herself. She’d never reacted to another man like this! How could her mind betray her so horribly? The man was built with muscles everywhere, but that didn’t give her the right to….well, to do what he was doing to her! She knew that Edward was extremely muscular, had felt similar bulging muscles when he’d taken her into his arms and gently kissed her goodnight on previous dates. But there was something about this man, the way he held himself or maybe the way he looked at the occupants of the room in one allencompassing sweep before stopping on her and not moving that terrified her. He made her want to run and disappear. He was dangerous in ways she couldn’t even begin to understand, had never encountered before. Suddenly those feelings she’d had earlier in the evening, the tension she couldn’t explain, came back to haunt her. She had attributed that strange sense of anticipation to the fact that Edward hadn’t informed their hostess that another guest would be arriving but this was what she’d sensed was going to happen. This man and his arrogance was the issue she should have shied away from. She should have excused herself earlier in the evening, telling both Jessica and Edward that she didn’t feel well. Julianna watched warily as the man approached, her stomach muscles tightening while it churned with some unknown emotion. She didn’t understand her instant dislike of this man, except that she felt that strange sense of danger in him. As his eyes sliced through the other occupants of the room once more, she almost choked on her wine when his eyes came to rest on her again. They were ice blue and intelligent, with something strange in them that increased the shaking in her knees as she endured the introductions. Jessica introduced him as James Cavanaugh, and for some reason, the name rang a bell but her mind wasn’t functioning fully while he looked down at her with that strange sort of omniscience. As he smiled and extended his hand towards her, she wanted to shake her head and tell him ‘no’, that he couldn’t touch her and he should stay away from her. Those eyes, she thought with trepidation, were telling her right back that he wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. His wide mouth smiled broadly, as if he understood what she was feeling. And was equally determined that he wasn’t going to stay away. “James, this is Lady Julianna Holbrook. Be good,” she warned with a stern glance up at the man’s smiling blue eyes. There was nothing she could do. As Jessica introduced the man, Julianna had to offer her hand although she wanted nothing to do with the man and his arrogance. When his hand took hers, she inhaled sharply, her eyes glancing down at their hands clasped together and she tried to quickly pull her hand away. He held on though, not letting her disconnect from him so easily. As she looked back up into those crystal blue eyes, all her suspicions were confirmed. This man was dangerous. And all that danger was directed towards her and she didn’t like it. Not one little bit. James laughed softly as he took Julianna’s cold hand in his large one. “Ah darlin’. I’m always good,” he replied which caused Julianna’s cheeks to turn an even darker shade of pink at his innuendo. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cavanaugh,” she lied, wishing him to purgatory for his boldness. “The pleasure is all mine,” he replied. “Can you stay for dinner?” Jessica asked, her chocolate eyes looking up at the man with pleading, but when he looked back down in her direction, Julianna realized that the two of them were just friends. She was actually shocked that Jessica didn’t feel the same sort of trepidation when James stepped back and put his arm around her waist. Julianna tensed with the dinner offer, praying silently that he would turn down Jessica’s invitation, say anything and make up an excuse that he had to be somewhere else. When his blue eyes flickered her way, she quickly looked down at her glass of wine. Manners would dictate that he decline the invitation after seeing that the dinner party was already in progress. But she knew that he wouldn’t, being the crass, obnoxious man that she already sensed he was after only the ten seconds she’d been in his company. “I thought you’d never asked,” she heard the big, blond man reply and every sense in her system came on fire. She took a sip of her cold wine, wishing it would pass along some of that refreshing coolness to her overheated skin. But nothing seemed to penetrate the heat. She even glanced at the fireplace, wondering if it were one of those automatic, gas fireplaces that could be turned off with a flick of a switch. Even the heat was conspiring against her and she felt like her cheeks were on fire as she looked up at the man who was now staring down at her as Jessica finished the introductions. Jessica poured him a bourbon over ice and they all sat back down. Unfortunately, the man took the seat next to Julianna despite there being ample room in other places around the coffee table. He even sat too close, forcing her to shift her position closer to the arm of the sofa just so their legs weren’t touching. And why in the world did he have to put his arm along the back of the sofa like that? She could actually feel his body heat along her back where that arm was resting as well as all along the side of her where his massive body was too close to hers on the cushion. Jessica sat back down in her chair and smiled admiringly at James. “James does some weird things with real estate. Aren’t you looking at some new property in London now? I thought I remember you mentioning that while we were in Switzerland recently.” Edward almost rolled his eyes. “James is one of the preeminent real estate developers in the world, tackling projects that others think are too risky or even impossible. I wouldn’t describe what he does as ‘weird’, Jessica.” Julianna grasped onto that news as a way to put the man in his place. “I guess that makes your fortunes rise and fall precipitously,” Julianna stated, hoping that it was true. Jessica laughed, her curls dancing once again right along with those gold earrings that made her eyes sparkle even more brightly. “James is the only one I know of that can take a risky project and consistently make it profitable. Investors beg for the opportunity to do business with him even though many of them don’t understand the complexities of the project themselves. They just know about his track record and don’t care about the risks. James can overcome just about any challenge.” embarrassment. She took a sip of her wine, winking at his “Tell me how many hearts you’ve broken since last we met,” he said as he took a sip of his own drink. Jessica glanced over at Edward nervously before returning her eyes to James. “Alas, I’ve been a very good girl since we last met.” James lifted an eyebrow in her direction. “Why do I find that hard to believe?” She grinned right back at him, refusing to admit she’d done anything inappropriate. “Perhaps because you have a very suspicious mind?” He threw back his head and laughed, then shook his head. “That’s true enough, but I also witnessed you in action. Those men in Belgium were fawning over you left and right and you didn’t even notice.” Julianna was astounded that he took every insult with amusement. Jessica definitely had a special relationship with this man and once again, Julianna tamped down the jealousy she felt at the other woman. Just a friend, she reminded herself. Jessica waved that aside. “You’re being ridiculous, James. No one fawned over anyone.” He looked at her with concern. “You really don’t know how many men were in love with you, do you?” She blushed and rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating. Tell me about the house you’re building in Aruba. Last time we were talking you said that you were having problems with the pool. Have you been able to resolve that issue?” Julianna let the conversation whirl around her. Even Edward laughed and talked about various problems he’d had during a recent renovation, but Julianna wasn’t able to participate as much as a polite guest should. She kept trying to move away from the man, feeling too closed in and overheated. But it seemed as if he moved right along with her each time she inched away. She didn’t see him move, but the air was continuously filled with his spicy male scent and she couldn’t even turn her head away to break that intoxicating scent from filling her lungs. Beth stepped into the room to announce that dinner was ready and Jessica smiled her thanks. “I’d like a word with you,” Edward said to Jessica, putting a hand out to stop her from moving out of the room. James stood up quickly and looked down at Julianna. “I would be honored to escort you into dinner,” he said as he looked down at Julianna’s startled expression. He took her hand in his, lifting her up and almost pulling her into his arms. She thought he was going to wrap his arm around her waist, but he simply tucked her hand into his arm and escorted her out of the room. “I know the way, sir,” she said stiffly as he led her out of the room on his arm. When they were out of the living room and alone in the hallway, she tried to pull her hand out of his grasp, but he held her firmly, looking down at her curiously. “Do I make you nervous, Julianna?” he asked softly so the housekeeper wouldn’t overhear. “Absolutely not!” she gasped and tried to put some space between them but he held her too closely. And the fact was, he didn’t just make her nervous. He terrified her. These feelings coursing through her body were scary, different and unnamed. She didn’t like feeling like this. She preferred the organized, scheduled life she had with Edward while James made her feel completely off balance and chaotic. “What if I told you that you make me nervous?” he countered. “In fact, I think I’m completely terrified of you.” She turned her head away, embarrassed that he could see what she was feeling so easily. “I’d say that you are a liar, but since you’re not nervous, and you can’t say that about me, I won’t be so rude as to say something like that to a stranger.” He smiled, not insulted at all by her words. “But we’re not strangers. We’ve been sitting next to each other for the past hour.” Her chin went up defensively and she glared at him. “You were sitting too close, by the way.” He laughed down at her mutinous expression. “Ah, but your lovely perfume was just too much of an allure to hold back.” He leaned down and winked at her. “If you don’t want a man to notice you, then why did you put so much effort into looking beautiful?” She took a step back, as far as his hand would allow since he was still holding her hand captive on his arm. “I wasn’t trying to entice you! I didn’t even know you would be here.” His eyes moved over her pale, lovely features slowly at that point. “I know you weren’t trying to entice Edward. So I guess I have to assume you’re just naturally beautiful.” She looked up at him, her mouth slightly open with surprise as he looked down at her. They stopped in the middle of the hallway and Julianna tried to think of something to say, but no words would come to her. She should argue that she had been trying to impress Edward, but that wouldn’t be honest at all. She’d barely thought about Edward as she’d dressed for the night, had in fact been resentful that he’d disrupted her plans for the evening with his phone call. But how does one respond to such a sweet compliment from a man like James Cavanaugh? He didn’t wait for her reaction but continued with that disconcerting, introspective gaze. “Actually, I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met in my life,” he admitted. James looked down at the blond woman and was surprised at how strongly he needed to touch her. He wanted to see if she was real, if she might disappear if he touched her. Giving in to the need, he reached up and ran a finger down her soft, porcelain skin and was shocked at how soft she was under his rough fingertips. And when she blushed once again, he wanted to reach down at kiss her. Never had he been so instantly attracted to a woman before. Women threw themselves at him just because of his size. But when they found out who he was, their pursuit could be embarrassingly aggressive. And yet this cool cucumber pretended that she wasn’t interested even while she blushed at his touch and tried to pull away. Her laughter enticed him and her reserve challenged him as no other woman ever had. He wanted to break through that reserved façade and see what she was like when she wasn’t so controlled. His body reacted as he pictured her naked, those small, perfect breasts in his hands and her body writhing whenever he touched her. He wanted to make her scream out as she climaxed from his touch and he wanted to hold her in his arms afterwards, letting the shivers subside. Damn, but she was gorgeous, he thought. “This is a completely inappropriate conversation,” she said, looking away and wishing that her voice was more assertive. “Please release me,” she ordered. “Or you’ll what?” he asked, actually moving closer to her, enjoying the way her nipples peaked underneath the ice blue dress she was wearing. His fingers ached to hold those breasts and his mouth wanted to take those peaks into his mouth. He wondered if he could make her climax from that kind of stimulation and he almost groaned from the image that formed in his mind. “Come home with me tonight,” he growled. “Let me show you what we can share with each other.” Julianna gasped and shook her head. Had the man actually propositioned her? Come home with him? They might have sat next to each other for the past hour but they’d barely spoken. How could he think that she would welcome such an invitation? Goodness, what was happening with her body? Her breathing was ragged and she felt dizzy with the desire his soft touch of his finger on her arm generated inside of her as he let his long finger trail down from her shoulder to her elbow. She couldn’t believe she was actually considering saying yes! But just his soft touch and that voice were hypnotizing her, making her want things that were wicked and….inappropriate. “Leave me alone,” she gasped and stepped away, relieved when he gave her the space. But she should have known better. He followed her retreat, backing her up against the wall and shaking his head. “I don’t think I will,” he said, referring to her command. “I think we’re going to make each other very uncomfortable for a while.” The Sheik’s Reluctant Lover - An Introduction Seventeen Years Ago… Rachel Stuart jumped off of the school bus, racing as fast as her little legs could carry her. She waved to her friends as the bus pulled away, but her mind was focused on only one thing. “Is he here?” she yelled out as soon as she reached the stable area, dumping her book bag right outside the doorway, not wanting to even take the time to open the door and put the bag inside. John Stuart turned to watch his seven year old daughter race towards him, her eyes lit up with excitement. He bent down just in time to catch her in his arms. “Not yet, Rach. But soon.” Rachel’s eyes dimmed, but only slightly. “Do you think he’ll be proud of me when I show him?” “Show me what?” Rais Sayyid Tarif Zaman walked down the stone path from the main house, amusement in his eyes as he approached the father and daughter. John Stuart was the horse trainer at his father’s stud farm and Rachel was the precocious little girl with long, brown hair and glowing eyes who never failed to make Rais smile. “Rais!” she exclaimed with delight. Rachel wiggled out of her father’s arms and scampered over to the tall, muscular teenage boy who was better than a brother, throwing herself into his arms just as she’d done to her father moments ago. Rais laughed and caught her in his arms easily, lifting her up so they were face to face. “How are your grades this quarter?” “Straight As!” she proclaimed proudly, her chin lifting with excitement at being able to deliver the good news. Rais wouldn’t allow anything less from her and she studied hard so she’d be able to make that claim. Her father helped her with her math homework so she could achieve good grades, but she loved reading and was one of the best in her grade so at least that part was easy. “Excellent! And what are you going to do when you grow up?” he asked, always amazed at Rachel’s ambitions which changed almost monthly. Every time she learned something new in school she changed her career goals and he loved hearing what she was going to do next. “I’m going to be a neurosurgeon!” she exclaimed proudly, her eyes wide with the eagerness as she said, “Did you know that the human brain makes up just two percent of the weight of the human body but it uses twenty percent of a body’s energy?” His eyes widened because he hadn’t known about that fact. “That’s fascinating!” “I know! So I’m going to operate on brains and make people feel better!” She nodded her head for emphasis. Rais laughed. “Well, that’s a pretty ambitious goal.” He shot an amused glance at John who rolled his eyes at his daughter’s latest aspiration while he continued to coach the stallion around the corral carefully so it wouldn’t re-injure it’s leg. “So what do you have to show me?” Rais asked, changing the subject. “Wait until you see what I’ve learned!” she said after hugging him with all her strength. “Is your father here too?” “He is in meetings until tonight,” Rais replied, lifting the exuberant girl so she was sitting on the edge of the white fence. “Don’t make me wait though. I’m ready to see whatever it is that you wanted to show me,” he encouraged, thinking she had painted a new picture or written a funny story in her grammar class. Rachel clapped her hands together and giggled delightedly. “Wait until you see!” she replied and jumped off of the high railing in one leap, racing into the stable. Rais looked over at his father’s trainer with a raised eyebrow. “What’s going on?” he asked, squinting in the springtime sunshine. John chuckled and shook his head. “She’s been practicing her jumps ever since your last visit.” The amusement instantly vanished and Rais straightened away from the fence, no longer casual about this latest ‘surprise’. “What do you mean? She’s too small to jump. She’s going to break her neck!” John shook his head with a small smile, used to this man showing concern for his daughter. Rais was like the big, protective brother Rachel never had and he knew that the two had a special bond. “I’m not worried. She’s only been jumping the smaller levels. She saw you and your dad racing your horses back last month and you jumped the stone fence by the back gate. Ever since then, she’s been determined to jump that damn fence too.” Rais shook his head, pacing back and forth in front of the corral gate, debating whether to stop her or…. “She’s too small, John.” Rachel’s father waved to one of the other employees, handing the reins to the other man before turning back to Rais. Taking off his leather gloves, he pushed his hat farther back on his head and sighed. “I know. I’ve held her back from what she was originally trying to do at least. She’s accepted that she can only do the lowest rungs on the jumps at this point. But she’s been racing through her homework every afternoon just so she can spend more time practicing,” he said with more than a hint of pride in his voice. “Wait until you see her.” Rais cursed himself for doing the jump on his last visit. Rachel was only seven years old, definitely too small to start jumping. He already knew that she rode too fast for her size and the little hellion tried to follow him on the more adventurous trails. “Why does she do things like that?” he demanded, already starting to panic at the idea of her tiny body broken because she’d taken too high of a jump or raced too fast on her horse. John laughed softly, looking up at the teenager who already had more responsibility on his broad shoulders simply because he would eventually inherit the title of Sheik of Dunari. “Because you can do it, she thinks she can too. She thinks of you as her big brother, the one she knows she’ll never get from me.” Rais sighed with exasperation and rubbed his hand over his face. “I have years more experience than she does. Shouldn’t we stop her?” he asked, glancing back to the stable doors. Rachel’s father pondered the subject for a moment, then shook his head. “Just wait. I think she’ll be fine.” A moment later, Rachel came out of the stable, already sitting on her pony’s saddle with helmet on and a determined look on her chubby little face. She waved briefly towards her father and Rais, but then concentrated on her task. Patting the neck of her horse, Mindy, she focused all of her attention on the jump in front of her. Pressing her knees together, she and horse shot forward, both of them feeling their heart rate increase. Closer and closer….at exactly the right moment, she pulled up on the reins, and Mindy sprang upwards with Rachel lifting herself up out of the saddle as if her body were flying along with the animal’s. With a jarring thud, both horse and rider landed on the other side of the rail and Rachel hooped with joy at her success. Even Mindy knew she’d done something spectacular and pranced around the corral. Rachel guided her horse over to where her father and Rais were standing, an enormous grin splitting her face as she bowed in front of her father and her best friend. “What did you think?” she asked when neither of them said a word but stood there staring at her, both of them watching with their mouth hanging open. After several seconds her father, gathered his wits about him and started clapping. It took that long to get his heart to start beating once again after the terror of seeing his little girl jump over a rail that was definitely too high for both herself and her smaller horse. If he’d known she was going to take on the higher rail, he would have stopped her. Rais took a deep breath and started clapping as well, but he had a hard time breathing for several moments after her jump. And an equally hard time not grabbing Rachel and giving her a good shake for being so reckless. If she were his daughter…he sighed and focused. Rachel wasn’t his daughter. She was a cute little girl who loved horses just as much as he did. He couldn’t blame her and if he were perfectly honest, Rais knew that he probably took too many chances. The adrenaline rush was heady, he knew. “Come up to the house for dinner to celebrate,” he said to both father and daughter. Then looked down at Rachel. “Although, you probably won’t have time. I bet you have a lot of homework, don’t you?” Rachel’s smile faltered and her eyes grew wide. “Yes, but I can get it all done in time. I promise!” With that, she raced back to her house, grabbed her book bag and slung it over her shoulder before running away once again. Rais watched her with amusement. “Where’s she heading?” he asked when Rachel disappeared behind the stable. John glanced back over his shoulder with a chuckle, his attention more on the horses than on his daughter now that the crisis was over. “She has all these hideouts where she finishes her homework when the weather is good.” Rais wanted to follow her, find out where she hid and what her homework was, but his own father called at that moment and he was called back to business. His father was grooming him to take over and it felt as if there was never a moment to spare. He didn’t mind though. He knew his responsibilities and took them on eagerly. Two Years Later… Rachel hurried around the stables, wanting to surprise her father. School was out early today for the Thanksgiving holiday. That meant she would have two extra hours to ride with no homework until Sunday afternoon. That was four glorious days away! Maybe Rais would be here! That would be even better! She kicked a clump of dirt along the gravel pathway, enjoying the autumn sunshine and wondering if it would get cold enough for snow by Christmas. The scene that greeted her as she rounded the corner stopped her in her tracks. With wide, horrified eyes, she watched while Devlin, a huge, black stallion, was released into the corral. A pretty, prancing mare named Dalia was already there, her nostrils flaring wide. In Rachel’s nine year old mind, all the mare was feeling was terror as Devlin whinnied and stood back on his hind legs. Rachel didn’t know that her fingers had dropped her book bag, or that her father was working hard to control another stallion who had captured Dalia’s scent. All she saw was that the mare was backing up, her eyes so wide that the whites could be seen as she tried to get away from Devlin. The stallion wasn’t taking any of that silliness from Dalia, moving sideways back and forth, intimidating her as he posed and stomped his feet. There were loud noises coming from the horses and Rachel gasped when Devlin maneuvered Dalia into a corner. The next thing she knew, Devlin was behind the mare, his front hooves lifting off and Dalia was screeching. Rachel didn’t understand what was happening, only that there were loud noises in her head and the beautiful mare that she fed apples to each morning was scared and in pain with odd noises coming from deep down inside her. At the first sound of the yell, both John and Rais, along with about ten other staff members looked over at the young girl screaming as she watched the stallion mount the mare. John had both hands on the reins of another stallion and he looked over at Rais who was already moving towards Rachel. “I’ll take care of her John,” Rais called out, his heart just now starting to calm down after hearing the painful yell from the little girl. “Rachel, it’s okay,” he said, bending down to try and get her attention. But Rachel was having none of that. Her eyes were huge as they stared at the lovely mare being brutalized by the larger stallion. She didn’t care how handsome and beautiful Devlin might seem to others, he was hurting Dalia, terrorizing her with his violence. “Make him stop!” she cried out, her skinny arms wrapping around Rais’ neck. Besides her father, when something was wrong, she knew that Rais was always able to make things better. He was her rock. “Please, Rais! Make it all stop. He’s hurting her!” Rais looked over his shoulder and cringed. Devlin was indeed going pretty strong but there was no stopping them at this point. Nor did Dalia actually look like she wanted to be saved. The mating dance was rough, but the horses wanted this intensly. He knew better than to get between two strong animals who were doing this act. “Rachel, he isn’t…” he started to say but she interrupted him. “He is! Oh Rais, please make him stop! Please save her!” The tears streaming down her pretty face was his undoing. Just as much as the horses were intent, he knew that there wasn’t anything that he could do to stop Rachel from watching this scene except to take her away from the problem. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her away, into the stables where there was less noise to hear from the equine mating rituals. He cradled the girl in his arms, letting her sob out her worry and horror at the act, not interrupting but simply sitting there rocking her back and forth. When her crying started to slow, he rubbed her back, noticing the tension in her tiny, skinny body and wished he could make her feel better. The horses’ mating wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, but to a little girl, the scene was confusing and terrifying. “It’s okay, Rachel. Everything is over.” With those words, she lifted her head slightly, listening. Sure enough, the whinnying and screams from the mare were done. It was silent in the stables. Not even the other staff members who cared for the horses were around, giving her privacy to deal with her first impression of the sexual act. “Why did he do it?” she whispered, leaning her head against his strong, broad shoulder. “And why didn’t you make it stop?” This was the first time she’d asked something of him and he hadn’t helped her. When she went to Rais, it was for information or companionship, arguments or just someone to laugh with. When her feelings were hurt, Rais was the man she knew she could talk to. If a friend said something mean, she needed to discuss it with Rais, ponder how to handle the situation. When something exciting happened, Rais was the one she wanted to tell. But this time, he’d failed her. He hadn’t stopped the horror. Rais wasn’t sure what to say under the circumstances. She was traumatized, but it was a completely natural act. “It wasn’t what you think, Rachel.” She shuddered as her mind went through the scene once again. She felt his strong arms tighten around her and she pushed her face into his neck once again as another sob broke through. After regaining control of herself, she pulled away again and looked up at his face. “You haven’t shaved today,” she said, her hand reaching up to test the scruffy, rough texture of his cheek. Rais laughed softly. “I just flew in from Dunari this morning after late meetings last night.” “Why?” Rais looked down at the huge, brown eyes that were still so filled with sadness. He wished he could make it better, but he didn’t know how. For the first time, he didn’t know what to say to make this little girl laugh and he ached to make her feel better, to see that happy glow on her cheeks once again. “I wanted to be here for Devlin and Dalia,” he admitted, not hiding the truth. “They’re going to make beautiful offspring.” He waited for his words to sink in. “Do you understand what they were doing?” he asked gently. She bit her lower lip, her eyes filling up with tears again. “I think so.” “So you know that what they were doing was natural and healthy.” He was more than a little worried that she would be afraid now. Sex was complicated enough. Seeing something like that might warp her for a long time. “I don’t think so,” she argued stubbornly. “That mean, old Devlin might have been okay, but Dalia wasn’t doing anything wrong. She shouldn’t have been treated like that.” Rais smothered his amusement and tried to think of what he could say to counter her impression. This wasn’t funny. It was very serious and he wanted to help her but he was at a loss as to what to do. “Maybe you should talk to your father about this,” he suggested. The hurt that entered her eyes at that moment was more than he could take. “But I’ll tell you anything you want to know. You know that.” Rachel was relieved. For Rais to say he couldn’t talk to her was shocking. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, wondering what she wanted to know. But in the end, she didn’t care to know anything. She just wanted to hide in here away from that horrible horse that had hurt his beautiful Dalia. “I’m okay,” she said softly. “Do you need to go?” He shook his head. “I’m free for the afternoon,” he lied. He actually had several meetings that he would miss. Rachel needed him and he couldn’t abandon her now. Not after the shock she’d just gone through. Rachel tried to smile, but in the end, she just relaxed against his strong body, his muscular arms holding her gently. She didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep, but next thing she knew, she was in her bed, rolling over to snuggle into her pillow more deeply. Nine Years Later…. “Do I look okay, Dad?” Rachel asked, nervously smoothing the cream satin dress over her stomach once again, praying that her sweaty palms would go away, or at least not leave a splotch on the beautiful dress. That would be hugely embarrassing. “Is this the right color for me?” She looked worriedly in the mirror, praying that she’d chosen a color that worked well with her skin tone and eyes. Her best friend Libby had helped her select the dress, assuring Rachel that it was perfect. But Rachel hadn’t confided to her friend the purpose behind the dress. Her love for Rais continued to be a secret! The dress had cost more than she’d expected. Rachel had been saving up for eighteen months, hoarding all of her money and even doing extra chores so she could have extra just in case. Now, standing in front of the mirror only moments before the first guests were to arrive, she wasn’t sure that she’d done the right thing. “You look lovely,” Lucy, the housekeeper gushed, bustling into the guest room of the main house where Rachel was getting ready for her eighteenth birthday party. “All the boys will go crazy once they see you tonight.” Rachel bit her lower lip, not reassured. She didn’t care about the boys in her class. The guys who had been invited were mere boys strutting around as they figured out how to be men. She was out to impress one man. And she wasn’t sure if this dress would do the trick. Would he see her as a woman finally? Would he look at her and understand how much she felt for him? How much he meant to her? Or would he laugh at her feeble attempt at sophistication? Was she setting herself up to look like a fool? Maybe she should change? But she didn’t have anything else to wear! She’d spent all her money on this one dress, previously convinced that the dress would do the trick and show Rais that she wasn’t a little kid anymore. She wanted him to look at her and see that she was just as feminine and sophisticated as all those other women he dated, but she would love him so much more! She hated it when she found pictures on the internet of the various women Rais escorted. He was fabulously wealthy and so handsome it was almost painful to see him now. She’d bought this dress because it was as close as possible to the one another woman had been wearing when he’d escorted her to a dance club in Paris last month. Surely Rais would see her and know how she felt, wouldn’t he? He had to know that she would love him for who he was and not because of his money or power. Surely he would, wouldn’t he? The doorbell rang, indicating that the first guests were arriving and she glanced at the closed door to the bedroom. “I guess this is it,” she said and looked at her reflection. Both Lucy and her father were looking back at her with pride. “Go get ‘em, Rach,” her father said, his voice catching with his comment. Rachel forced a smile on her face, but she didn’t care who was at the door. The only man she wanted to impress probably wouldn’t show up even though this was his house. Rais had been so generous about letting her have her party in his ballroom, even paying for all of the snacks and sodas. But would he really see her? As a woman? Would he finally dance with her? Most of the people coming tonight weren’t even her friends. They all just wanted to attend so they could see the inside of Rais’ palatial house which was normally closed off to anyone other than the wealthy, powerful elite of the world. Rais and his father used this house outside of Washington, D.C. as their base for entertaining when they were in the U.S. As Sheik of Dunari, Rais’ father had a great deal of power, and a huge amount of responsibility. She walked to the door, smothering her laughter when George, Rais’ butler, winked at her only moments before opening the door to admit the first group of guests. From that moment on, Rachel was swept up in the tidal wave of her party. Everyone who had been invited showed up, eager to get a look at Rais’ fabulous house and hopefully get a glance at the man himself. The girls were avidly watching the hallways, wondering if he might pop in and say hello while the boys just wanted to be near a man as powerful as someone like Rais. Rais looked down at the ballroom from one of the balconies, his insides clenching with fury. He actually had to restrain himself when yet another eighteen year old boy approached Rachel and asked her to dance. He imagined breaking the boy’s hand when he had the audacity to touch her waist and, if it weren’t for his father’s strong hand on his shoulder, he might have rushed down the stairs and punched the boy in the face. He knew exactly what was going through each boy’s mind as they took ‘his’ Rachel out onto the dance floor and he wanted to beat those thoughts out of them. She was beautiful and sweet and none had the right to even touch her, much less think things like that. “So this is the one, eh?” his father said softly, looking down on the crowd of teenagers with amusement and happiness. “I’m relieved that you finally have realized your feelings for our little Rachel.” Rais glanced back angrily at his father, not understanding what he was saying. “She’s too young for that boy, father.” Rais held onto the stone railing with a white knuckle grip, trying to figure out what to do to get Rachel out of that crowd of hormone-pumping, gyrating boys. His father peered down at the crowd and chuckled. “It appears that they are approximately the same age as each other.” Rais turned his back on the scene, unable to deal with watching Rachel in another boy’s arms any longer. “She’s too young for him,” he reiterated forcefully. His father laughed softly once again. “She’s too young for you, my son. But soon….” Rais looked at his father with surprise, then back down at Rachel who was once again surrounded by boys. Why wouldn’t she be? She was beautiful with her long, black hair and soft, brown eyes looking like any man’s angel. Not to mention her lithe, teenage body that had blossomed into womanhood over the past few months while he’d been gone. “I don’t think so, Father.” And then it struck him. Hard! He wasn’t angry because Rachel was too young for those other boys. He was furious because he was too old! He was twenty-eight years old and lusting after an eighteen year old girl! “That’s disgusting!” he growled, livid with himself for even thinking such thoughts about Rachel. She was like a kid sister to him! How could he even think…No! His father sighed and shook his head. “She is too young now. But in a few years, she will be even more beautiful and perhaps more eligible.” Rais didn’t want to consider those ideas. He didn’t think that way about Rachel! And yet, when he looked down at her dancing, there was no denying the protective feelings for the beautiful young girl. They weren’t sexual exactly, but they definitely weren’t brotherly anymore. It had been like this for several years now, growing stronger as she grew into adulthood. But it had never been so blatantly in his face as it was now with all those boys vying for her attention. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but he knew that he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Rachel was like a beautiful rose that was slowly opening up to the sun and he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. With a growl of anger, he pushed away from the balcony and strode away, down the back stairs and out into the cool, night air. Slinging himself into his powerful car, he drove away from the party, determined to stay as far away from the woman-child as he could. She needed space to grow up, to learn about life and love. He didn’t like it, but he knew she needed to date other men. Maybe in a few years she might be old enough. But right now, she was young and beautiful and he was confused about what he was feeling. Better to leave her alone than to hurt her in any way. Rachel watched with a pain knifing through her as the powerful car drove down the long, winding driveway. She stood by the ballroom window as her heart broke, wishing Rais would come back and ask her to dance. Just one dance, she thought miserably. She’d searched for so long for this dress, tried on literally hundreds of dresses until she found the perfect one and now he wouldn’t even see her in it. All those months of chores and saving up, all for nothing! With a sniff of anger, she turned her back on the departing tail lights. Perhaps she should forget him. Rais had too much responsibility and he had all those other women. She hated the idea, but maybe it was time to move on. He hadn’t even bothered to come down and wish her a happy birthday! Was he off on another date? Was she blond and beautiful? Would they…? No! She couldn’t even finish that thought, the image of another woman in Rais’ arms was too painful. Rais wouldn’t do that with another woman….would he? The hurt she was feeling was intense but she still had a party going on. If he didn’t want to be here, if he had other things to do that were more important than being here with her, then she needed to accept that. She needed to move on and…get over him? With a sigh of sadness and desolate pain, she pasted a smile on her face and stepped back into the crowd. Yes, Rais wasn’t the man for her. He obviously wanted something else, something she couldn’t give him. It was time to move on, she told herself with finality. If Rais wasn’t interested in her that way, she would find a man who was! The Sheik’s Reluctant Lover “Dad, I just don’t think…” Rachel Stuart started to say. Her father gently interrupted her before she could come up with an excuse. “Don’t say you don’t have the time. I guarantee you won’t regret this.” Rachel bit her lip, wondering how she could say no to her father. She knew he was lonely, but… “He’s not here, honey.” John Stuart said the words softly, but her heart ached that her father knew. She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath as the pain of her last visit to the farm swept through her. She slowly let the air out of her lungs and straightened her shoulders, not willing to reveal too much even to her father. “I don’t care if he’s there or not Dad. This has nothing to…” “Rach’, don’t even try it.” He softly interrupted her comment, knowing where this conversation would go if he allowed it. “Your old Dad knows what’s going on and I feel for you. Rais isn’t scheduled to arrive until late tomorrow afternoon. So if you don’t come out tonight, then you’re not going to be able to see these beauties for another month and I know you’re gonna love these guys.” ‘Beauties’? Did that mean that new horses had arrived on the farm? He knew he’d piqued her interest with that comment and she hesitated only briefly because if there was one thing in this world she loved besides her father it was horses. And she was relieved that the man in question wasn’t scheduled to arrive until the following day. “What is it?” she asked, trying to hide her curiosity but failing because whatever her father was calling about had to be big. His relieved laughter flowed through the phone lines, knowing that he’d gotten her with those words. If there was one thing Rachel hated it was to not know a secret. He tormented her with Christmas and birthday presents, and any surprises he could think of throughout the year just to tease her. “Come out for dinner tonight and you’ll see.” He waited a moment before he said, “I’ll make you macaroni and cheese,” he said with a hopeful tone. He’d hit her weak point, damn him. She closed her eyes, her hand gripping her cell phone as if she could find strength. “With the gorgonzola cheese?” she whispered. “You bet,” he laughed again, knowing that she was caught now. “I’ll see you at six o’clock. Don’t be late or I start eating it myself.” She groaned and shook her head. “Fine. I’ll be there.” He knew exactly how to lure her home for a visit. His macaroni and cheese was the best with gorgonzola cheese and chives. The man didn’t stop there. He added secret ingredients he wouldn’t even give her a hint about so that she couldn’t figure out how to make it herself. She’d tried, just so she didn’t have to risk running into the man in question, but she hadn’t come close and he was using that as her compensation for the risk involved in coming home. After disconnecting, she stared at her computer screen, her eyes not really seeing anything. Her father knew, she thought with resignation and more than a little embarrassment. He wasn’t a stupid man, so it was ridiculous of her to think that he hadn’t noticed her reaction to the man over the years. But it would have been nice if it had just been her secret. With resignation and embarrassment, she accepted that there were just some things a daughter couldn’t hide from her dad. Three hours later, she shut down her laptop and packed up her office, forcing a smile as she walked out of the building so her co-workers didn’t know she felt like she was facing a death squad. She usually timed these things better but she’d already committed to the visit. Coming out tonight was cutting things a bit closer than she preferred. It took her two hours with heavy traffic because she worked in downtown Washington, D.C. and her father lived out west of the city. It felt as if everyone and their brother were heading out west along Interstate 66 so there were long periods when she was crawling in traffic, and those were the good moments. There were other times when she just sat there, the autumn sunshine beating through her window while traffic came to a standstill. This was why she used public transportation, she thought with frustration as she pulled her jacket off during one of the many sitting spells. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any way to get all the way out to the farm on public transit so she had to drive herself, inching along in rush hour traffic. When she finally pulled up behind the stables, she was hot, miserable, irritated and painfully hungry. She walked into her father’s cottage and dumped her overnight bag by the door, already feeling better once she smelled the macaroni and cheese scent wafting through his small home. “Dad? I’m home!” she called out. “Can you tell me what the surprise is that couldn’t wait another month?” Her father stepped out of the kitchen, tossing a dishtowel over his shoulder. The look in his eyes told her something was very wrong. “Glad you’re here!” he said, a little too loudly, his eyes darting from her to the kitchen, then back again worriedly. “Dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you go change and I’ll get everything ready.” Rachel watched her dad carefully, noting the odd look in his eyes. “Didn’t you mention that you made macaroni and cheese for dinner? I can already smell it so there’s no need to change. I can just dig in.” He hesitated, glancing behind him and Rachel peered into the kitchen, wondering what he was trying to see. When the tall man emerged from the tiny kitchen, he took her breath away and her body immediately reacted to those dark, penetrating eyes. He was taller, his shoulders broader and his eyes darker, more dangerous. Everything about him was just….more. She gasped at the sight of him, her eyes taking in the overwhelming presence of the man she’d been avoiding for the past six years. And she’d been doing a damn good job if that until tonight. Her father shuffled around for a moment before he said, “I’ll just go check on dinner.” And he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving her alone to face her demons. “Rais!” she breathed, her heart instantly racing, her knees starting to feel weak and wobbly. She couldn’t believe that he was actually here, in her father’s small cottage. It had never felt this tiny before but Rais was so large, he actually had to duck between the kitchen doorway leading to the den area so he didn’t bump his head. And shockingly, he had to angle his shoulders to get through the doorway? Ridiculous, she thought, trying to pull her eyes away from him. It was difficult, but she finally did it. Unfortunately, her eyes only moved away from his penetrating eyes. Traveling down his body was just as bad. His broad, muscular shoulders tapered to slim hips and long legs that she knew were covered with bulging muscles, just like the rest of him. The man was the epitome of masculinity topped off with an aura of confidence that many, many women found fascinating and alluring. She was not immune to his magnetism either, which was why she’d tried so hard to avoid visiting her father while he was in residence. She knew that Rais’ father passed away several years ago, so he was now Sheik Rais Sayyid Tarif Zaman, Sheik of Dunari, she thought in a ridiculous train of thought that left her speechless. She couldn’t even tell him to get out since, technically, this was his cottage, his farm and all of the horses out in the stables were his. He owned the farm here in Virginia so if he wanted to come to his house earlier than anticipated, he could do whatever he pleased. “It’s been a long time,” Rais finally broke the silence. His deep, husky voice broke through her crazy thoughts, jilting her mind into overdrive. “Yes. I guess it has been a few years.” He raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly as he said, “More like six years, I believe.” He leaned against the wall and slid his hands into the pockets of his immaculately tailored slacks, those dark, dangerous eyes never leaving her face. “One might almost imagine that you have been avoiding me.” Rachel flushed and looked down at her feet. “That would be silly,” she said, hoping he couldn’t see her cheeks flame up in color with the dimmer light in the cottage’s den area. “How have you been?” she asked, suddenly overcome with the need to straighten the magazines that were scattered all over the coffee table and pick up the newspapers that had been carelessly left on the floor. She was nervous and wished she could just slip out the door and fade back into the darkness of the autumn evening. He smiled slightly, crossing his arms over that massive chest of his while he watched her nervously straighten up the room. “I’ve been fine. Why haven’t you been around?” She picked up and refolded the blanket that she’d bought for her dad because he fell asleep on the couch so often. “I’ve been pretty busy.” “Too busy to swing by once in a while to say hello to an old friend?” She stopped and froze, wondering how to respond. She looked up at him, then away once again, too nervous to hold that contact with his too-knowing gaze. “Well, I know it’s not very far but, well, you know how traffic is around here. It’s hard to get out this way. And I don’t have…well, I can’t really take time off very often.” He moved closer, putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her frantic movements. “You’re nervous. Why?” She actually jumped and took a step backwards. “I’m not nervous,” she countered but couldn’t look him in the eye. She took a deep breath to try and steady herself. When she felt like she had a bit more control, she said, “Why are you here?” She looked at his firm chin or his broad shoulders, the middle of his fabulously muscular chest…anywhere but into his eyes. He put his hands back in his slacks and looked down at her. Rais couldn’t believe the beauty she’d grown into. He’d suspected she would be like this as he’d watched her grow up and knew that she would be beautiful. But the woman standing in front of him was stunning. She had a cool sophistication that was startling with a sensuality that was soft and seductive instead of being blatant. Her long, black hair looked like a silk wave as it cascaded down her shoulders and her pretty blue eyes revealed so much, but also hid everything he wanted to know. “Why have you been avoiding me?” he countered in a low voice so her father wouldn’t hear them in the kitchen. He’d wanted her for so long, he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t ached to hold her in his arms. Ever since she’d turned sixteen, his feelings for Rachel had changed from brotherly affection and interest to something much stronger, significantly deeper. And the older she got, the more intense that feeling had become. Suddenly, six years ago she’d simply stopped coming out to his farm to visit her father, his lead trainer, and he’d missed her almost painfully. There had been times when he’d been furious that she wasn’t here for him so he could o feast on her glorious beauty or just revel in her laughter and smile. Then there were other times when he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to find another woman to ease the ache she always left in him after he saw her or spoke with her because she was too young. But she was older now. She wasn’t a teenager with soulful eyes that laughed at his dry humor or teased him about his arrogance. She wouldn’t be racing ahead of him on her horse, her long, slender legs holding onto her horse and her bottom bouncing on her saddle, giving his mind images that were inappropriate and leaving him hard and aching. Every year she’d grown more beautiful and more interesting. Each visit had left him with an ache, a desire to be with her more often which he’d had to fight with every fiber in his being. When she’d turned eighteen, it had been the hardest because she’d continued to grow into that figure that had him dreaming about holding her in his arms. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d woken up in a sweat because he wanted her so desperately. As he looked down into those blue eyes, he reveled in the fact that she was now old enough for his pursuit. And he would have her. She might resist at first, but it would be just out of habit. He would show her that he wanted more from her and they could explore this attraction he knew they both shared. Yes, Rachel would be in his bed and they could expand the friendship they used to have so that it was more, deeper. He stepped closer, his nose filling up with her soft, feminine scent. “I’d like…” “Dinner is ready,” her father called out from the kitchen, interrupting whatever it was that Rais was about to say. Rachel blinked, looking around as if she’d forgotten where they were. He’d been about to touch her, his hand reaching out, his fingers so close to her cheek that she’d almost felt his fingers against her skin even now. She took a deep breath and stepped around Rais, moving on unsteady feet towards the kitchen. “Well…thank you for stopping by…” “You’re father invited me for dinner,” he interrupted, amused that she was trying to get rid of him. Interesting, he thought to himself. She was nervous, he realized. Nervous about being near him. He’d been around women enough to know that her trembling meant she was just as interested in him. That and the way she’d looked into his eyes, the soft blush that had bloomed on her cheeks when she’d first seen him. His grown up Rachel was showing all the signs and he had a hard time hiding the reaction his body was having to her attraction for him. He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her, feel her against him and show her that everything would be okay, that she didn’t need to be nervous around him. But her father’s interruption slowed him down, gave him time to step back and enjoy this delicious tension between the two of them. “He invited you for dinner?” she asked. She looked over at her father, wondering why he would do something like that. If he knew how she felt, why had he cornered her like this? But how could he have avoided issuing the initiation? If Rais had shown up unexpectedly, Rachel knew there was no way her father could avoid inviting Rais in for a meal. It wasn’t just that Rais was her father’s employer. They were friends who respected each other. Rachel knew that they often dined together when she wasn’t here, talking about the horses and the farm, not to mention playing chess together often when Rais wasn’t entertaining the elite of Washington and Virginia society at the main house. She sat down at the table, taking her napkin and placing it over her lap. Her mind just couldn’t wrap itself around the fact that her father, the man who knew how she felt about Rais, had even conspired with her to avoid him so assiduously for the past six years, had violated her trust like this and invited the enemy to dinner. Rais and John discussed the various horses in the stables over dinner while Rachel pushed the food around on her plate, too nervous to actually eat anything. The tiny table barely had enough room for two people so adding a third person, and especially one as large as Rais, made the confines beyond cozy. She kept shifting her legs, trying to avoid touching his, but he would just move his legs right back so that they were touching again. It was frustrating and her stomach clenched each time she felt his leg or his thigh against hers. She pretended like it didn’t matter, but by the end of the meal, she was jumpy and irritated with herself for letting things get like this. “You two go on out to the family room and I’ll clean up,” her father said, picking up the plates and heading towards the sink. “No way,” she said adamantly. “Dad, you cooked dinner so I’ll clean up. It’s obvious that you and Rais have lots to talk about so I’ll do the dishes,” she countered, starting to take the dishes out of his hands but he just pulled them out of her reach and shook his head. He couldn’t look at her as cleared the table, chuckling softly at her feeble attempt. “We’ve been talking all through dinner. You two go out there and catch up and I’ll just finish the dishes in here.” Again? Why was her father doing this to her? “I’d better be heading back to town,” she said instead. “But you haven’t even seen the beauties,” her father countered, looking over his shoulder at her with a worried expression. “Besides, I thought you were staying overnight. Didn’t you bring your bag with a change of clothes? If not, you know there are plenty of clothes still here for you. Rais, how about if you take her out to the stables see them? They’re yours anyway.” He turned back to Rachel with a huge grin on his face. “You’re going to love these guys, Rachel. I’ve never seen anything quite like them in my life, and that’s saying a lot.” Rachel knew he was discussing some new horses Rais had recently purchased, but the very last thing she wanted to do was go out to the stables in the dark with Rais. “That’s okay…” “Nonsense,” Rais argued, stepping in quickly as he suspected she was too nervous to be alone with him. “Go change clothes. You can’t go into the stables like that.” Rachel felt like her whole body was on fire when his eyes traveled down her figure, looking at the lavender straight skirt and cotton shirt she’d donned this morning. She was even wearing matching lavender shoes which had felt so special earlier in the day, but now she just felt dumpy knowing that the women he normally associated with could afford much better, more expensive clothes. Outfits that didn’t droop by the end of the day as this one was doing. Rachel bit her lip in indecision. She wanted to see what were obviously new horses, but she didn’t want to be alone with Rais. She’d seen him in action too many times over the years, spying on him from the loft in the stables or from the rose garden, from an empty stall or in various places where she could see him with his lady loves. She’d always admired the way he would move in closer, stealing a kiss that would eventually lead to more with his expert seduction. Sometimes much more. “I…” she was stumped. “It can wait.” He moved in closer, unwilling to give her a reprieve. “Are you afraid to be alone with me?” he asked gently, forcing her eyes to look into his and reading that fear, that anticipation. She couldn’t speak for a long moment, too stunned to hear him ask such a blatant question. She sputtered, trying to jump start her brain and give him a firm set down, or just a flip response. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind and her only defense was to step around him and shake her head in denial. “Rais, I’m really tired. I think I’ll pass tonight.” He wouldn’t take no for an answer. “If you won’t change clothes, you’ll just have to go out like that,” he said, ignoring her comment about passing on the sights and taking her hand in his, dragging her out into the darkness and closing the door behind them. As the night air closed around them, he slowed down and pulled her closer, tucking her arm into his. “See? This isn’t so bad,” he said and smiled down into her nervous eyes. Rachel tried to pull her hand off of his arm, but he held it in place and kept on walking. “You look beautiful in that color, by the way,” he commented. Rachel tried to ignore the coziness of the atmosphere, the intimacy of the darkness which made everything else fade into the background. “Thank you,” she said, clearing her throat and pretending to look around. “What are you going to show me?” “Some new horses I think you’ll like.” Rachel loved horses, loved riding and just being around the strong, gentle creatures. “Why are they so special?” she asked, becoming interested despite her nervousness and irritation with his commanding attitude. He opened the heavy door to the stables and they were immediately enveloped into the warmer, more humid air that kept the horses comfortable during the colder autumn and winter months. “You’ll see,” he said with a mysterious smile. He led her down to the third stall and opened the top gate. “What do you think?” he asked and stepped back, letting her peer inside. Rachel looked at his handsome face filled with excitement and had to smile herself. He looked a little bit like a small boy on Christmas morning, eager to see what kinds of presents he’d received under the tree. She took a step closer and looked inside the stable and the sight she saw made her gasp with awe. Staring back at her were two of the most beautiful Thoroughbred horses she’d ever seen in her life. One was pure white and the other pure black, both of them just standing in the middle of the large stall, sniffing the air in order to determine if the new scent was friend or foe. When she stuck out her hand, wanting to touch the newest beauties, they rebuffed her initially, too proud to come close. “Here,” Rais said and handed her some sugar cubes. “They both have a horrible sweet tooth.” She took the sugar cubes, pretending that she didn’t shiver when their hands touched, then turned back to the beauties. “I thought a white Thoroughbred was rare.” “They are. But this one came on sale just a few months ago. There was a bidding war for him but I was determined.” As the horses approached, sniffing in her hand to see what she had for them, Rachel couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling at his comment. “Of course you won. Don’t you always?” “I prefer to win. Don’t you?” He leaned against the stall, watching her as she smiled at the horses as they nuzzled her palm licking up the last of the sugar crystals. “Oh, I would love to win all the time. But that doesn’t happen.” “What have you lost recently?” she asked, not believing he’d ever lost at anything in his life. His smile grew slightly and he shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing recently.” She raised one eyebrow at him as she said, “Have you ever lost something?” He laughed softly and moved closer, running his hand down the black mare’s neck. “Sure I’ve lost. I don’t keep track of those issues though. I move on and figure out how to overcome that challenge.” He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Come riding with me tomorrow?” Immediately she shook her head. “I can’t.” “Why not? You used to love to ride. And I used to love watching you ride. I haven’t seen you on a horse in years.” She blushed and shook her head again. “I ride,” she countered. “Just not when I’m around. Why is that?” She shrugged, feeling as if he were closing in on her. “I guess our schedules just haven’t been in sync lately.” “Or you’ve purposely been avoiding me.” She bit her lower lip nervously and took a step backwards. “Why would I do that?” She shook her head. “No, it’s really just been a crazy period in my life.” “Then come with me. Show me that you can ride like you used to.” “I can’t.” “You can’t ride like you used to or you can’t ride at all?” “I can ride!” she gasped, rising to the challenge he was tossing out there at her. “Good. Then we’ll ride tomorrow morning.” She blinked and shook her head slightly. “What? No, I didn’t mean that I could….” “It’s settled, Rachel. You can even ride this guy here.” What had just happened? “I didn’t agree to ride with you!” she gasped. He moved in even closer. “Sure you did. I know that you’re afraid to be alone with me for some reason. But it will be fine tomorrow. I’ll be the perfect gentleman.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’ve seen you in action, Rais. You’re never the perfect gentleman.” He put his hands on her hips as he moved even closer. “Were you spying on me as a kid?” he asked softly, his eyes looking at her lips. She pressed back against the wall, her breathing ragged and heavy. “No!” “Then how do you know I wasn’t a gentleman?” “I wasn’t spying. I was around doing my chores or my homework and you just happened to be around with your….” She halted, not exactly sure what to call the parade of brunettes that had come through his life. “Lady friends?” he put in for lack of a better word. “Yes. Lots of them.” She tried to keep the jealously out of her voice, but even she heard the angry tone come out. “And I really don’t want to be one of them.” She put her hands on his chest and pushed, but he didn’t move, not even an inch. “What if you’re not one in a crowd?” he suggested. “I’m not.” He looked at her beautiful features and had to agree with her. “No. You’re definitely not part of the crowd, Rachel.” “Please let me go,” she begged, looking to the right so she didn’t have to look at him. She was shaking everywhere and his touch was strong and firm, even better than she’d dreamed about. Rachel wanted so much to be kissed by this man, to know what all the other women had experienced. But she wouldn’t be able to endure it when he moved on to the next woman. She had enough trouble coming out here to visit her father. If she had memories of his kiss to deal with, those visits would be even worse. Rais hesitated. She sounded sincere but everything inside him was telling him to move forward, to test those lips and find out if she really was as soft as she looked. His body was already hard and aching, wanting to pull her against him, to make love to this woman so thoroughly that she wouldn’t remember any of the men in her past. The Spanish Tycoon’s Temptress - An Introduction Elana’s Story Five year old Elana stuffed her pool towel under her chin more securely while she watched the ladybug crawl up the rose bush. “Why do you think the ladybug likes roses so much?” she asked Manolita, her father’s housekeeper, as she waited by the pool. Her father had promised to come swimming with her and she wasn’t allowed into the pool until he got here. Manolita looked up from her magazine, smiling at the precocious young girl. “The ladybugs protect the rose bush from the aphids, carina.” “What do the aphids do?” Elana asked, more curious than ever. Manolita chuckled. A more curious child, she’d never met. “The aphids suck the juice out of the rose stems, killing that part of the rose. They also leave a sticky mess that the ants then come and eat. It’s all a circle of life.” “What’s the circle of life?” she asked, glancing over at the door to the house, wishing her father would come out. She’d been waiting forever! Manolita shrugged and glanced over her shoulder. It was her day off today but no one was here to watch out for Elana. She was too young to be left alone, but her employer said he would be here. “The circle of life is what keeps things going. Some things live, some die and others feed off of both the life and the death.” She had plans, she thought mutinously, although this wasn’t the first time that Signor Catelano had neglected to be here to watch his daughter. The man was one of the worst fathers she’d ever encountered. Elana wrinkled her nose. “Nothing lives off of the death of others, Manolita. That’s just…gross!” Manolita laughed softly at Elana’s horrified expression. “Of course it does. How do you think the leaves decompose each winter?” Elana rolled her eyes. “They just blow away,” she said as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. Manolita shook her head. “Not really. The worms eat the leaves, the slugs eat the other material like wood and such, the birds eat the worms and slugs, the fox eats the birds and….” She thought hard, not sure what ate foxes so she improvised, “and Sasquatch eats the foxes.” That got Elana’s attention. Elana pulled her focus away from the ladybug and over to the woman who was more mother than household employee. “What’s Sasquatch?” she asked, her big brown eyes staring up at Manolita. Manolita stood up as Signor Catelano walked out into the sunshine, clearly not prepared to swim as promised with his daughter. That wasn’t any of her business, she told herself firmly. She had errands to run and this man had made her late. “I’m sure you’re Papa would love to explain that to you, carina.” She tossed her magazine onto the table and grabbed her purse, walking out the side door before the old man could come up with some reason why he couldn’t stay and play with his daughter this afternoon. “Adios!” she called out, waving her hand as she let the gate to the backyard close behind her. Elana watched her housekeeper walk away, then turned to smile up at her Papa. “Are we going swimming today?” she asked eagerly. Rufus glared at the now closed gate with irritation. “I can’t swim today. But how about if you come watch television while I have a conference call?” he suggested. Elana wasn’t very interested in television. It seemed that she always watched television when Manolita left for the day. “Why don’t we do something together?” she suggested. “We could have a tea party!” Her heart sank when she noticed the distracted look in his eyes a moment before he turned and walked away. “Papa?” she called out to him, trying to get his attention again. But he was already bustling off to his office so she picked up her pool towel and followed him inside, accepting that she probably wouldn’t be able to swim until Manolita returned. She sat in one of the chairs in her father’s office while he spoke to various people on the phone. With a huge yawn, Elana looked around, trying to think of something she could do. Her father probably would be on the phone for a while and he didn’t have any toys in his office. After ten minutes of sitting still and trying not to make any noise, Elana was bored. She could draw on the paper from his printer, but he didn’t have any interesting colors to use, only blue and black ball point pens. She could do somersaults on the carpet in front of his desk, but she knew from experience that he wouldn’t like that either. Out of desperation, she pulled down one of the books on the shelf beside her. She didn’t really understand the words, but the pictures were interesting, so she let her eyes drift over the words beneath each of the photographs, slowly letting her young brain recognize the letters. Once she recognized the letters, she sounded them out in her mind, then after several minutes, she was able to put two letters together. Sounding out the words was fascinating to her. Her chubby finger moved along the page while her lips formed the words. She found that she was fascinated by the way the words formed a sentence. She didn’t always understand the sentence, or even the most of the words, but was eager to read ahead and find the next few words that she could comprehend. This was exciting stuff! The book was about different words and their meaning and she went through one word after another, absorbing as much as she could. How exciting! A whole book filled with letters and sounds and words that made sentences! She settled more comfortably in the big chair, her mind continuing to wrap around the words. One after another, she sounded them out, reading all the text she could. A long time later, she glanced up, feeling hungry all of a sudden. When she saw her father, she stopped and raised her eyebrows. “Is something wrong, Papa?” she asked him, sitting up and becoming slightly anxious. Rufus looked across his office at his daughter. He’d always thought she was an extraordinarily pretty little thing. But for the past hour, he’d sat at his desk, transfixed by the sight of his precious angel teaching herself to read the dictionary. He chuckled and shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong at all,” he said softly, pride coming through in his voice. “You’re perfect.” He looked at his daughter, truly amazed by her intellect. Briefly he thought about her future, about what she might be able to accomplish with that curious little brain of hers, but then dismissed the idea. The future meant marriage and babies and he knew instantly that no man would be good enough for his little girl. She was too smart, too sweet and just too perfect! Picking her up into his arms, he chuckled at her squeal of excitement as he playfully tossed her over his shoulder. Heading out of the house, he jumped into the pool with his little girl in his arms, laughing at how horrified she was that he was still fully dressed and in the pool. 10 Years Later…. “Come on! We’ve got to get home!” Elana urged her friend. But Cindy didn’t care about the science project that was due the next day or the fascinating experiments of the dissected grasshopper that had been carefully examined and researched. “Will you relax,” Cindy urged. “You’ve already caught and dissected all the bugs. We’ve probably gotten an ‘A’ already just with all of your bug parts pinned up on that giant board of yours.” Elana glared at Tim Grantfield, the main reason Cindy was dragging her feet. “Cindy, we’ve only done the experiments. We still have to write up our findings. And you said that would be your part of this project. We’re not going to finish it on time if you don’t hurry up and stop flirting with Tim!” “We have plenty of time,” Cindy argued, glancing behind her one more time. “The science fair comes every year. A boy like Tim Grantfield comes only once in a lifetime!” She melted with joy as Tim winked in her direction. With a sigh of frustration, Elana walked on ahead of her friend. Cindy was lost now that Tim was showing interest. As much as she resented it, she knew that the rest of the project rested on her shoulders. She hated writing, but she was proud of what she’d learned while dissecting the grasshoppers. They were interesting creatures with lots of moving parts, all of which she had diagrammed after meticulously taking them apart. Of course, she’d only done this to the grasshoppers she’d found dead on the ground. As a budding scientist, she didn’t have the heart to kill an innocent grasshopper only for scientific research. They had a place in the food chain and taking some of them out of that chain, just to pin up on her science project display board, wasn’t right. Ethics had to be maintained! She sat down at her father’s new computer, a tough looking desktop with the newest Pentium III processor. She was just as excited to be working on the new computer as she was to write up her findings on the grasshopper dissection. Technology ranked a close second to discovering how living this worked. Glancing at the clock, she noted that it was only four o’clock in the afternoon. That meant she still had at least two hours before dinner, plenty of time to finish up the report. Her fingers typed as quickly as possible across the keyboard, her mind shifting from one part of the grasshopper to the next, eager to explain all the various parts of the creature and why God had created each with their specific parts. She explained the complex eyes, the amazing legs that allowed the grasshopper to jump more than twenty times its body length. She was just amazed by all the amazing parts of the grasshopper. When Manolita called her down to dinner, she shook her head. “I’ll be right there!” Elana called back, her fingers moving faster over the keys, desperately trying to get this one last thought into the report before she stopped. An hour later, Manolita carefully placed a sandwich at Elana’s elbow, cut up into small triangles, along with a glass of milk. “Eat,” Manolita admonished. Elana glanced to the right, then smiled briefly up at Manolita. “Thanks,” she sighed, grabbing one of the triangles and taking a bite out of one corner. She didn’t bother to look away from her computer screen, her mind already shifting back to describing the technique she’d used to dissect the legs and discover why the grasshopper was able to jump so far. A long time later, she heard a soft voice. “Carina,” Elana heard and felt the gentle hand on her shoulder. She jerked awake, already feeling the pins and needles tingling along the back of her arms and hands. “What happened?” she asked, still groggy as she tried to focus on her surroundings. “You fell asleep again on your computer, Elana,” Manolita explained, bustling around Elana’s bedroom to tidy things up. “And you didn’t eat your dinner. You have to eat a good breakfast this morning to make up for that,” she urged. Elana sat up in her desk chair, looking around. “I fell asleep finishing this report,” she explained, pushing her heavy, long hair out of her eyes and looking down at the neatly printed copy. “I think it’s going to get a good grade.” Feeling enervated now that she remembered what she’d been up to until the early hours of the morning, she jumped up and hurried to the shower, eager to dress for school. All of her fatigue vanished with the anticipation. “You’re late,” Manolita shouted out a moment before Elana closed the door to her en suite bathroom. “I know. Aren’t I always?” she called back, a smile of expectation on her pretty features as she thought about how impressed her science teacher would be with her project. It took her less than five minutes to shower but she took more time with her hair and makeup, wanting to look good when she presented her project to Mr. Dryfus, the science teacher she hugely admired. When she emerged from the bathroom, she glanced back at Manolita who was still cleaning things up. “Where’s my father?” Manolita snorted. “He left earlier this morning on another business trip to Barcelona. He said something about buying a house over there, trying to steal it away from some man, grumbling about everything, just like he always does.” Elana laughed, knowing that her father tended to grumble a great deal about people in general and some he particularly had strong, negative feelings towards. “Well, he’ll be back in time for the weekend, won’t he?” “Who knows,” Manolita replied as she slipped out of the room. “I’m making you eggs for breakfast. You need protein to get you through the day.” Elana didn’t argue, intent on pulling down a clean pair of jeans and trying on various shirts, straightening her hair into a smooth waterfall today instead of the wavy mess it tended to prefer. When she emerged from her bedroom twenty minutes later, she danced down the stairs, her grasshopper report in one hand and the large board with her diagrams and various grasshopper parts pinned neatly to the front. “Want to take a look at my science project Manolita?” she asked eagerly, her big brown eyes excited to show someone her discoveries. Manolita shook her head with a chuckle. “If it’s going to show me all those icky bug parts you’ve been looking at under that microscope of yours, then no. I don’t want to see it. But I’ll drive you to school today so you don’t have to carry that all the way.” “Great!” She sat down at the breakfast table, enjoying the sunshine streaming through the large windows. “Can we stop by and pick up Cindy as well? She helped me on the project too. It was a joint effort.” Manolita snorted in disgust. “What help did that other girl provide?” she challenged as she poured a glass of milk and set it in front of Elana who was already daintily eating the cheesy eggs Manolita had cooked a few minutes earlier. Elana couldn’t answer, so she simply shrugged her shoulders and kept on eating. “I have a French quiz today as well.” Manolita immediately switched into speaking French, quizzing her charge on the various vocabulary words. The morning was swift and a bit chaotic, but Elana and Cindy arrived at school fifteen minutes early so they could deliver their science project to the appropriate position in the school library where the teachers would review the projects and present grades and awards. Elana looked at her board with pride, ignoring Tony Edwards who snickered at her grasshopper findings. Tony preferred architecture and had done a mathematical equation on how bridges held up their weight. Elana dismissed his project as irrelevant. He didn’t even work with anything alive! What’s the point? He walked by her, shaking his head. “I’m going to come in first place this year,” he whispered softly so the nearby teachers couldn’t hear. “You’re run on winning this every time has come to an end, little girl!” Elana glanced over at his science project and rolled her eyes. Pulling out the report she’d worked on last night, she plunked the thirty, neatly typed pages down in front of her science board, slipping Cindy’s one and a half page synopsis into her book bag before walking over to the teachers and handing them another copy of her report. “The first three pages are an outline, Mr. Dryfus. The following pages get into more detail.” She smiled brightly as the science teacher looked down at the huge report and swallowed, silently shaking his head in horror at the amount of reading he was going to have to go through. “Um…very good, Ms. Catelano. I’ll get right on this,” he said and grasped the report gingerly. “I’m sure you’ve done a very thorough job on your science project.” “Thank you Mr. Dryfus.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked to her first class of the day. Elana found Cindy waiting for her out in the hallway, leaning against Tim’s locker and looking at the boy as if he were some sort of demi-god. “Come on Cindy.” She smiled politely to Tim, but sincerely didn’t understand Cindy’s fascination with the opposite sex. Cindy waved to Tim as she tripped along behind Elana. As soon as they rounded the corner, Cindy eyed Elana with trepidation. “You’re mad at me because of the report I did, aren’t you?” Elana sighed and shook her head, not really sure what she was feeling right at the moment. She was more nervous about the competition, she supposed. Elana might have pretended to dismiss Tony’s bridge project, but she silently admitted that it was quite impressive. Her competitive nature just couldn’t rest, for some reason. “Why would I be mad at you? Could it be because your report was hand written and the project instructions required the report to be typed? Or was it because the report didn’t go into any of the details I gave you? It barely even covered the hypothesis. And most of the words were misspelled.” Cindy had the grace to look ashamed. “Well, you didn’t spell most of those words for me and I’d never heard of most of them.” Elana sighed, not really angry with her friend, but anxious about the competition. She wanted to win! “Cindy, you should have come home with me last night. We could have done this together.” “Yes, but Tim called me last night as soon as I got home and asked if he could take me out for a soda. We met at the diner last night and he was soooo sweet!” she explained, melting against the bricks of the wall. “You just don’t understand.” Elana refused to sneer because it would only show Cindy how little she really did grasp about male and female relationships. “I’m all for cute boys, Cindy,” she said smartly, ignoring Cindy when she rolled her eyes. “But when it’s time to work, we need to focus.” “Well, you wrote a book last night. So we’re okay, right?” “Yes, but you didn’t contribute anything to this project.” Cindy looked mortified. “Are you going to tell Mr. Dryfus?” “Why would I do that?” Elana asked, genuinely perplexed. Cindy was relieved. “Great. In that case, you can wear my black mini-skirt tomorrow for the awards ceremony,” she said, linking her elbow through Elana’s and dragging her over to their first class just as the first bell rang. “And you’re going to look fabulous. But I get to borrow your hoop earrings.” Men! Elana vowed that she’d never allow a man to get in the way of her studies. They were such ridiculous creatures. A grasshopper was much more interesting to study, at least in her opinion. Gaston’s Story Gaston winked at the woman in the long, black dress, smothering his chuckle when she glanced around the room to see if anyone else was looking. At twenty-five, he wasn’t one to turn down something so freely offered. A moment later, she separated herself from the group and walked over to where Gaston was leaning against one of the marble columns in the ballroom. “I don’t think we’ve met,” the lovely blond woman said as she sauntered up to the tall, amazingly handsome man in a tailored tuxedo. “Gaston Montebello,” he said, taking her hand and bowing gallantly low. “And you are?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. Or as much as he needed to know. She would be his next mistress, he decided. “I’m Jennifer Markley,” she replied, moving slightly closer. “And I believe you’re an exceptionally naughty man.” Her voice had dropped to a lower, huskier tone and Gaston considered her assets carefully. “Is that your husband?” he asked, glancing to the man in his fifties who didn’t even realize that his arm candy had strayed. “Soon to be my ex-husband,” she smiled, taking another step closer. “Do you care?” Gaston thought about it for a moment, but then shook his head. “Not at all.” Women were lovely creatures, but he could always tell when a woman was dissatisfied with her current lover. And ex-wives were especially creative in bed, wanting to prove that their sexuality hadn’t disappeared along with their husband’s interest. He danced, wined and dined the woman for the evening and by midnight, she was in his bed. By morning though, Gaston had decided that she might not be mistress material after all. He found that he wasn’t as immune to her married status as he would like. As he scrolled through the latest stocks on his computer, he came to several that seemed to be good investments. He sent notes to his assistant, giving him directions on how to research each one. He then sent a message to his father, giving him a head’s up on the possible investments. “I missed you,” the redhead said, sliding into his lap and forcing him to push his laptop out of the way before she sat on it. He sighed and took in her sexy appearance. She was wearing his shirt which irritated him. Why did women always seem to think it was okay to wear his clothes? But instead of showing her his irritation, he allowed his hands to rest on her hips. “I’m sorry to rush out, but I have a business meeting in an hour.” She pouted prettily at him, wiggling her hips in a way that normally he would find interesting. This morning though, he found her only mildly amusing. “Isn’t there anything here that might be more interesting than a boring business meeting?” she asked, leaning forward so he could see that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath his shirt. “You’re a lovely lady,” he replied, irritated with himself for not remembering her name. “But unfortunately, I really have to go.” With one arm around her waist, he stood up and swung her around so she was sitting in the patio chair by herself. “My housekeeper will fix you breakfast.” With that, he touched her cheek gently to soften the blow, but quickly walked out on her. His thought the previous night that women with ex husbands were creative was still accurate, but the night had left a bad taste in his mouth. He found that he wasn’t as interested in women who would cheat on her husband as he’d originally thought. Five Years Later… Gaston folded his hands in front of him, feeling uncomfortable in the grey morning suit. His best friend was getting married, although why Gary had decided to tie the knot was a mystery to Gaston. His friend professed to the woman. In Gaston’s opinion, women were pretty little thing, entertaining at times but he knew all too well that their sense of fidelity was far short of his requirements. Better to enjoy them on a safer playing field instead of marrying one. So he’d decided to let things ride. Gary and his soon-to-be bride, Adriana, had been living together for the past several years. Happily, Gaston had always thought. Adriana was beautiful with a thriving real estate business. Gary was a successful financial analyst living in Manhattan. Gaston didn’t understand why the two of them had to muddy the waters with a vow of ‘happily ever after’ when they were doing just fine as they were. None of his business, Gaston thought with resignation as the music started up, announcing the bride was about to walk down the aisle. Gaston, along with the rest of the congregation stood and turned to face the doors at the end of the cathedral to witness the bride enter. He had to admit that the woman looked stunning in her wedding finery. Her blond tresses were curled around her face and her lush figure seemed to fill out the wedding gown well. Gary was a lucky man, Gaston thought. As the Best Man, Gaston stood next to his friend as the priest cleared his throat, ready to start the ceremony. Gaston glanced over at Gary, trying to discern the other man’s mood. Unfortunately, his eye caught Adriana’s eyes instead. Gaston was just about to look away when Adriana winked at him Gaston was so surprised, he couldn’t look away immediately. When he continued to look, Adriana gave him a sultry smile. He pulled his eyes away, assuming he’d just misunderstood the message she’d been sending. He cleared his throat, ignoring Gary’s surprised glance and focused only on the minister and the words of the ceremony. When the tedious ritual finally ended, Gaston was relieved to walk out of the church, more than ready to head over to the reception. He needed a drink. A stiff one! It was hard to stomach a wedding ceremony in the best of circumstances. But when one was wondering what the bride’s messages were, it was even more difficult. He leaned against the bar, watching the rest of the guests as they started milling about the reception area. There were bouquets of flowers everywhere with white table clothes, white roses, white bows and white garlands on every possible surface. Seemed like a complete waste of time and money in his opinion, but he was just the Best Man so he kept his mouth shut. Sipping a pretty good glass of scotch, Gaston watched as the bride and groom enjoyed their first dance together. They looked good with her blond beauty against his darker looks. They will make beautiful portraits, he thought cynically. The dance ended and everyone clapped politely, Gaston continued to nurse his drink as he watched the proceedings. “You’re looking lonely,” a pretty red-head in a low cut, pink and purple dress said as she leaned against the bar. The position gave him the advantage of seeing her lush breasts pressed higher and he was so irritated he had to look away. He really wasn’t in the mood. Weddings just killed all the romantic thoughts in his mind. It wasn’t that he was against marriage. He just thought weddings were a bit overdone. He supposed that was just the cynical, male part of his brain thinking. “How are you?” he replied politely, but not very interested in flirting. He stepped away, intending to move off into the darker parts of the terrace so he could be alone and not impose his cynical mood on any of the other guests. As he neared one of the overhanging trees, he spied a bench and headed towards it. He was almost there, ready to just take a seat until he was needed again. He had a perfect view of the wedding festivities so if it appeared that he might be needed, he could hurry back into the fray. He was just about to take a seat when a soft, feminine voice had him halting in his tracks. “You’ve been avoiding me,” Adriana said, her white gown glowing in the night air. “Why is that?” she asked, sauntering closer. Gaston stopped and turned to fully face her, wondering why she was here instead of on the dance floor with her new husband. “Adriana,” he replied as a greeting, nodding his head slightly. “You look lovely tonight.” She smiled and he could see her white teeth and her exquisite eyes. “Thank you very much,” she said with a small laugh. She almost skipped her way across the grass, eliminating the space between them. “And I think you look absolutely marvelous. But then, I’ve always thought that.” Gaston’s eyebrow went up at her comment, but she couldn’t see that. “Where is Gary?” he asked. Adriana shrugged. “Who knows? He’s probably halfway to getting drunk by now.” He wasn’t sure how to reply to that. “Shouldn’t you go find him? It is your wedding night, after all.” He was getting an unsettling idea about her goal right about now. She shook her head, the sparkles in her hair reflecting the small amount of light that was able to reach them underneath the branches. “Gary can take care of himself.” She moved closer, one hand coming out to slide up Gaston’s vest. “I was coming here to take care of you,” she explained, tilting her head back to look up into Gaston’s dark eyes. “I’ve always thought you were an exceptionally handsome man, Gaston. Why didn’t you ever make a move on me?” He caught her hand before she could undo any of the buttons on his starched, white shirt. “Because you were living with my best friend,” he replied with increasing revulsion. Tossing her hand away, he stepped back. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head back to the party.” She quickly stepped in front of him. “Why don’t we just have our own, private, party?” He shook his head, keeping his face impassive. “Because I only find women attractive when they aren’t cheating on their significant other.” With that, he stepped around the lovely, if faithless, bride and headed back to the party. He desperately wanted to leave this farce of a celebration but he couldn’t do so without explaining to his friend why he was departing. So he walked to one of the tables and ordered a fresh drink from the bartender, then struck up a conversation with the others around him. But even by the end of the night, he couldn’t remember anything he’d said, too furious with the bride and how she was treating his best friend. Women…did any of them have the ability to remain faithful to one man? Doubtful, he thought as he passed by the reception and headed out into the night. The Spanish Tycoon’s Temptress Chapter 1 Gaston Montebello walked into the office, absently noting the general sense of disrepair and the absence of an efficient staff moving about the hallways. The old man was probably desperate by now which was exactly what Gaston had planned. He walked into Rufus Catelano’s office without knocking which was simple since his assistant wasn’t in her place outside. The old man looked up as soon as the door banged open, furious at the interruption. “What the hell are you doing here?” Rufus demanded gruffly, his grey, bushy eyebrows drawing together in anger at the arrogance of his uninvited guest. Gaston unbuttoned his dark jacket before taking a seat in one of the green plastic chairs in front of the large, heavy desk. “You know exactly what I’m doing here.” He paused for emphasis and also to make the other man squirm for a moment. “I want it back, Rufus.” Gaston stared hard at the old man, hiding his fury and impatience. “You’ve lost about forty percent of your empire fighting this war. And I will make sure that there is nothing left if you don’t give me what I want.” Rufus leaned back in his leather chair, satisfaction smoothing out the anger. Despite his hatred of the younger man, Rufus had to admit that Gaston was a prime specimen of masculinity with his height well over six feet tall and every bit of him packed with hard, bulging muscles, a fact of which Rufus silently admitted he was jealous. Rufus supposed that most women would consider Gaston Montebello a handsome man with his black hair and dark, intense eyes, not to mention the angular face that, in most circles, women thought were sexy and mysterious. Not in Rufus’ circles, but the gossip columns certainly enjoyed following this man’s activities. There was no denying that Gaston Montebello was ruthless in business. He’d never have amassed such an enormous fortune and controlled such a huge empire if that weren’t the case. Rufus hated this man with every fiber of his being, but he accepted that there must be some redeeming qualities if his tender hearted daughter had fallen in love with him. And he suspected that she was still pining for the bastard! A fact which continually ate at him but had also led up to this confrontation. He hated to admit it, but if Gaston was what his daughter wanted, even after all these years, he would help her get him back. Not that he would ever admit to his part in their original breakup. No, that secret Rufus would take to the grave! With a hot sense of satisfaction, Rufus leaned back in his creaking chair, lacing his hands over his protruding stomach. Gaston had finally come. It had been a hard struggle to get him here, a painful, deliberate chess game played out in financial markets and corporate boardrooms, but Rufus had finally won. The end was in sight and all would be well with his precious daughter Elana if he played this situation correctly. He leaned back in his leather chair, ignoring the squeak that needed to be fixed as he continued to glare at the younger man. “You think you can push me into a corner and I’ll roll over and weep, but that’s simply not going to happen.” Gaston raised a sardonic eyebrow. “You have almost no resources left that you can sell off, your companies are losing contracts almost daily and your own house is so heavily mortgaged even the banks are going to start calling in the loans. What do you have left? Just give me what I want and I’ll make it all stop.” Rufus chuckled, the sound echoing his Gaelic ancestry and coming across as both arrogant and amused, fully in charge despite strong evidence denying that possibility. “You don’t understand me very well, do you?” He lifted the cigar to his mouth and inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the pungent smoke before releasing it into the air. Gaston ignored the smoke despite the way it temporarily obliterated his view of the man. Thankfully, the scent was almost pleasant if it weren’t for the fact that the particles were carcinogens that would eventually kill the older man. “I understand that you’re a lying thief and an old man who is losing his grip on an empire that meant so much to him once upon a time,” Gaston said with disgust. He hid his rage, his fury and distaste for this man as much as possible. “You don’t know what I prize.” Rufus laughed softly, squinting at the younger man to keep himself from chortling with victory. He was so close, he could almost taste success now. Gaston was impatient with this farce. “Okay, let’s have it. You know what I want. Tell me your terms and I’ll have the money in your account by this afternoon.” Rufus shook his head, smirking. “I don’t want your money.” Gaston waited, but when the man only sat there smiling, he shook his head. “Explain your terms. I don’t have time for your ridiculous games.” This is exactly where Rufus wanted the younger man to be. Now he had him. All his dreams would finally be realized. “If I give you what you want, you have to give me what I want.” “Just name your price, old man.” Rufus chuckled softly. “I want my daughter married.” Gaston froze, his stomach clenching with renewed fury but he hid his reaction, not wanting to give his nemesis any power. Even the knowledge that his daughter would marry eventually seared his brain with rage. “Fine,” he replied stiffly. “Get her married.” Rufus paused, enjoying the tension, reveling in it. Finally, he said the words that would infuriate the younger man even further. “To you.” Gaston stopped breathing for a long moment. He was still, his body absorbing the impact of those words. “Impossible,” Gaston snapped. If he never saw that woman again it would be perfectly fine. Rufus shrugged his shoulders, pretending the younger man’s response was unimportant. “Then you’ll never see the book again. I won’t live forever and in my will, I have instructions to have the book destroyed.” He paused to let those words sink in before he said, “Although I might grow impatient with the expense of hiding the book from you. You have massive resources and, over the years, your investigators have caused me a great many problems. I have had to work hard to keep one or two steps ahead of them. Perhaps I should just destroy the damn thing now and be done with it.” Gaston shoved out of the seat, not even aware that it fell backwards with the force of his fury. “If you do that, I will make sure that everything you own will be destroyed, including your precious, faithless daughter!” Rufus wasn’t impressed by the man’s threat. “All you have to do is convince Elana to marry you and the book is yours. Free and clear.” “You’re out of your mind! I wouldn’t touch your daughter! You know the history! You yourself showed me the evidence of her betrayal.” Rufus still had some pride left and knew he didn’t want to admit all of his errors to this powerful man. He shrugged once again. “Elana is a very smart woman. If you can’t keep her faithful to you, then you don’t deserve her.” Gaston fisted his hands at his side to keep himself from throttling the older man. “Trust is two sided. She broke my trust.” He paused to try and regain his composure. “This is all beside the point. I want the book and it has nothing to do with your daughter.” Rufus chuckled softly while he shook his head. “It has everything to do with my daughter. You said to name my price. My daughter’s happiness is my price.” “That still doesn’t bring me into the picture.” Rufus wasn’t sure how much to tell this man. He didn’t want to betray Elana’s privacy, but there had to be some hope to give this tall, handsome man. It didn’t matter that Rufus hated Gaston and the entire Montebello family. He loved his daughter more than he hated. She was all that mattered now. “Elana has locked herself away.” “You’re being ridiculous,” Gaston snapped. “She’s working as a botanist at the university.” It was interesting to Rufus that this man knew that. “And she hasn’t dated anyone in….” again, how much to reveal? “In some time,” he finally finished, not mentioning that the last man his daughter dated was this particular one. She’d locked herself away from life, from happiness. He couldn’t remember her laughing, genuinely laughing, in more than seven years. From the day this man walked out of her life, Elana had grown more and more quiet, reserved. She used to love life, attacking it with a vengeance. Seven years ago, she’d said that she was in love with Gaston Montebello but Rufus hadn’t believed that she truly meant it. She’d been only eighteen! No woman knows the love of her life at that age. So he’d convinced this man to push her aside and his precious little girl had been slowly dying, living the life of a recluse. And she never laughed. Oh, she might smile occasionally. She would go through the motions when in a social situation. But the smile was only on her lips and never reached her eyes. Those pretty brown eyes that used to always sparkle, that would tease him and show so much life, were dead now. Gaston scoffed at the idea of Elana not being happy. His cynical nature came into play here and he refused to believe that Elana hadn’t moved on with her life. “That’s hard to believe, considering the picture you showed me of her with that other man.” Rufus refused to let his shame interfere. This was his daughter’s happiness at stake. He had to succeed. “So find a way to make her forget any other man but you.” He paused and looked up at the tall, furious man. “Or are you not up to the challenge? Are all those stories about your female conquests just lies? Or publicity?” Gaston refused to answer. It was none of this man’s business who he dated. And his daughter was definitely not going to be one of them. There had to be another way to get that book. Unfortunately, time was not on his side. His father was asking for the book, begging Gaston to find it and return it to him. The man was dying and they all knew it. What kind of son would he be if he couldn’t give his father his dying request. What was in this book that was so important was a mystery to Gaston. He’d seen it when he was a child but he’d been too young to care about a moldy old book with ancient pictures in it. There had been too many other things to do at that age. His mother had passed away asking for the book and he hadn’t been able to get it. Now his father was dying, asking for the same book. He wouldn’t fail his father. He would get the damn book if he had to marry the faithless wench. It wasn’t as if he had to sleep with her. Chapter 2 Elana peered through the microscope then made some notes on the report by her side. Moving on to the next slide, she did the same thing, over and over again. Each slide showed her the exact same thing and she sighed with frustration when the last slide revealed that nothing had changed. “Shoot,” she said and dropped her head into her palms as she rested her elbows on the black, epoxy-resin countertop. “Why didn’t it work?” “Problems?” Richard Channing asked as he leaned against the other side of the countertop. Elana looked up and grimaced at her fellow researcher. “It didn’t work.” She and Richard worked in the university laboratory on similar research projects, but he had funding from a different source. They had collaborated slightly on their results over the past year but Elana was embarrassed that her research wasn’t going as well as his. Richard sighed and shook his head. “I would have thought that the last batch might have been a winner.” He moved around the table and examined the slides. “None of these worked?” Elana covered her mouth, her mind sifting through the possibilities and potential next step. “Not a single one.” She took her notes and closed the notebook. Richard was a nice guy, but she hesitated to trust anyone in this laboratory. There was fierce competition among her peers to discover a new strain of bacteria resistant wheat and Richard wasn’t above stealing her ideas to help his own experiments. “How are your ideas coming along?” she asked, changing the subject. Richard leaned his back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought I had something with the cellulose last time, but the bacteria didn’t seem to care that I’d given the little buggers a toxin. They ate right through the cells.” Elana nodded. “Same here.” She looked at the clock and sighed. “I guess we’d better be heading home, eh?” It was almost midnight and she’d been here since before six o’clock this morning, eager to start examining her results from the growths she’d been working on for the past month. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to have worked at all. She was working on her doctoral thesis and this was supposed to be the major element in that paper. She wasn’t going to impress the panel much if she didn’t have those results though. She was just about out of her current funding which was worrisome. She needed a new grant to get her through the next set of experiments. Where she would find that funding, she had no idea at the present time. With exasperation, she packed up her computer and stuffed her notes into her leather bag, tossing it all over her shoulder. She needed to take some time out of the laboratory in order to find new funding, but she couldn’t find new funding until she had results from her lab work to show progress. What a conundrum. She walked to her beat up old car and yanked the door open, tossing her bag onto the back seat as she got into the driver’s side. As usual, she closed her eyes and prayed that the engine would turn over this time. When she turned the key, she actually crossed her toes this time, knowing that the engine had not been in the best of moods this morning. With a sigh of relief, the engine started up and she put the car in gear, driving to her tiny apartment while her mind sifted through the data she’d gathered today. The results were disappointing, but she knew there had to be a way. She’d been so optimistic about this last batch. What had gone wrong? Her drive home was only ten minutes at this time of the evening. With no traffic, because sane people were already in bed, she was able to cruise through the streets with barely a single stop. She pulled into her parking space at her apartment building and grabbed her bag, trudging up the stairs while her mind went over the steps in the experiment once again, trying to find a reason why the bacteria hadn’t been stopped, or even slowed, by her new strain of wheat. If she’d been more aware of her surroundings, she would have noticed that her door wasn’t locked when she entered her apartment. But she pushed her door open and dumped her heavy bag on the floor as she made her way to the tiny kitchen to find something for dinner. Looking into the fridge, she realized that she had only yogurt and milk left since she hadn’t gone to the grocery store in over two weeks. She picked up the milk, too tired to contemplate eating the yogurt because of the effort involved. She didn’t bother with a glass, just started drinking the milk right out of the carton despite the fact that it was extremely bad manners. What did she care? No one came into her apartment but her. “The milk is past the expiration date,” a deep voice said from the darkness. Elana gasped and swung around, holding the almost empty carton of milk out as if it were a sword while her eyes skimmed the darkness, trying to find the source of that voice. It sounded vaguely familiar, but something deep down inside of her told her that familiarity was a bad thing. The only light in the apartment was still coming from the refrigerator behind her so her eyes couldn’t penetrate the darkness of the small living room. “Who’s there?” she called out, still trying to see even though she knew it was almost impossible. “I’m hurt that you don’t remember me, Elana,” that deep voice said. A moment later, a light came on and her eyes blinked, her mind refusing to acknowledge that this particular man was sitting casually in her living room, acting as if he had every right to be there. And worse, looking like he’d been there for quite a while. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her mind going blank as it always had when this man came near. “How did you get into my apartment?” Gaston shrugged and stood up, his long legs giving him the height that made him now tower over her. He slid his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks while his eyes took in the slender beauty in front of him. He was surprised to see that she was actually more stunning now than she had been seven years ago. She was too thin though. She hadn’t been overweight to begin with but the lost weight made her appear almost waif-like. He pushed the concern for her heath away. He was doing this for his father, he told himself. What she did with herself was none of his concern. He had a mission and a short period of time in which to accomplish that objective. And if she were hurt in the process, he didn’t give a damn. She’d lost the right to his concern when she’d betrayed him with another man. “I got in like any other person would. Through the door,” he told her sarcastically. Then checked himself. He wasn’t here to start a fight. He was here to get her to the alter and that was it. “How have you been?” he asked, moving closer to her. In the dim light, she didn’t appear to be taking care of herself very well. There were dark circles under her pretty eyes and he already knew that she didn’t have any food in her apartment. “You look tired.” Elana’s body was having a hard time adjusting to the fact that this particular man was standing in her apartment. When the shivering started, she crossed her arms over her stomach in a protective gesture. She’d been so in love with this man. Seven years ago, nothing in the world had mattered except being with him, seeing his smile and sharing her day with him. She’d been so overwhelmed with those feelings that she hadn’t realized what a bastard he was. He’d left her without any word, no explanation. The only way she knew that it was truly over was when she’d seen the picture of him at some society function with a blond woman on his arm. She glared at him across the room, furious with herself for reacting to his presence after all these years. “Don’t you have some party to go to? Or a woman to seduce?” Gaston looked down at her and almost smiled. “I do, as a matter of fact,” he replied evenly, knowing that he had to convince her to trust him and seduction was probably part of the process. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to touch this woman in any way. He hated the thought of even kissing her, much less making love to her. Hopefully it wouldn’t have to come to that. He could get her to the alter with an abbreviated seduction, but after the wedding, he could set her aside and go about his business. He just had to get that book. And fast. His father’s health was fading quickly. She really didn’t like the look that came into his eyes. It was speculative, almost cruel and she shivered again despite her admonition to remain aloof. “So why are you here? Obviously I didn’t invite you.” “We need to talk.” He pushed images of her naked body out of his mind, telling himself that he wasn’t interested in her that way. She had one purpose, and only one. Thoughts of her lovely breasts pressing against his palm had nothing to do with that purpose. He looked back down at her, his eyes dropping lower. Even if those breasts looked like they would fit perfectly in his palm. Where the rest of her had slimmed down, he realized, her breasts had actually filled out. They were larger, fuller, more lush than he remembered. Dammit! He wasn’t going to think of her in that way. She was a means to an end. A tool to achieve his goal. Or more appropriately, an obstacle to overcome. She took a wary step back with the hardness that had entered his eyes, terrified of what he might be thinking and unaware that she was about to put herself into the still-open refrigerator. “You left without any word seven years ago, Gaston. Why don’t you just do the same disappearing act again? I don’t need to hear anything you have to say.” He reached out and pulled a curl from her chin, tucking it behind her ear and ignored the way she tried to pull away from him. “Even if it means getting funding for your wheat project?” he asked softly. Elana froze. That was probably the only thing he could have said that would get her to listen. But then she realized what she was doing and shook her head. “I don’t need your funding. I’m perfectly fine.” He laughed softly and shook his head. “Your current grant funding runs out at the end of this week. What’s more, you don’t have anything to show prospective clients that you’re making progress. And I know why.” Despite her promise, her eyes looked up at his face, her heart clenching with pain as she drank in the handsome man who had hurt her more than she’d thought possible. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gaston had to admire her spunk if not her morals. “This is no time to let pride stand in your way. You’ve made progress but someone in your lab is sabotaging your work. I’m offering you continued funding plus a place in my laboratory where you can ensure that your work is not tampered with.” Elana wasn’t sure what was more surprising. That her work was tampered with or that he was offering her funding. Both ideas were so far outside the realm of possibles that she couldn’t even think for a moment while her mind processed those two items. Because the tampering was less…invasive, for lack of a better word, she attacked on that. “What do you mean about my work? And how would you know if someone were tampering with my results anyway?” She knew she sounded belligerent, but this man just brought out the worst in her. Which was sad because he used to bring out the best, challenging her mind, pushing her harder than she’d ever thought she could go and rising above the petty irritations to get her studying finished faster and more thoroughly, just so she could spend more time with him. Seven years ago, every moment spent in his company had been precious and exciting. Now she just couldn’t wait to get him out of her apartment and as far away from her as possible. “You know exactly what I mean,” he said evenly, leaning his shoulder against the cream colored wall. “Why don’t you have any color in your apartment?” he asked, his eyes looking around. “You used to love color, surrounding yourself with anything that was bright and almost crazy.” Why he cared, he didn’t know. But something about the way she lived didn’t feel right. Elana shifted on her feet, suddenly realizing that the fridge was still open and she had the milk in her hand, holding it as if it were a weapon. She turned around and put the milk back on the shelf, then slammed the fridge. “I don’t need to explain my environment to you,” she replied stiffly. In reality, she’d had no color in her life, not just her apartment. Since he’d left her, everything had seemed dull and pointless. She’d put all of her energy into finishing school and competing with the other students as well as herself to do better, work harder and achieve her goals faster. It had paid off. She was one of the few students working on her PhD in botany for her age. She had him to thank for that, although she wasn’t going to give him the credit since he’d done it by leaving her without any explanation and moving on to, not just the next woman, but the next fifty women. She’d been so heartbroken she had barely been able to function those first few months. But she’d eventually gotten through the pain. With gritty determination, she’d buried herself in her studies and her work, resolutely not allowing Gaston’s absence to throw her into a tailspin like so many other women had gone through. Gaston shrugged, accepting that what her walls looked like wasn’t relevant. “Good point. So, what’s your answer on the funding and lab space?” He took another step closer to her, his nostrils filling up with the sweet scent of her. It was a scent he remembered so well. She was fresh and alive, like roses. She was actually shaking, her whole body trembling as he came closer to her. She wanted him gone, but her voice wouldn’t speak, her eyes looking up at him warily. “I don’t know why you’re here but there has to be a reason. And whatever that is, I don’t care. Get out,” she said, wishing the trembling in her voice would stop so she could appear, at least on the outside, more confident and unaffected by this man. He didn’t listen to her. In fact, he came even closer, his eyes skimming over her features one by one. “Are you sleeping well, little one?” he asked softly, his eyes noticing the dark circles under her previously vibrant eyes. Her mouth fell open at the endearment and she blinked, not sure what he was doing. She didn’t realize that her body language had softened but she felt her insides melting, frustrated because that had always happened when he came close to her. “Don’t do this, Gaston,” she begged, not even caring that she had to plead with him if it got him away from her. “Don’t do what?” he lifted his hand and pushed a stray lock of hair off her cheek gently. “You’ve lost weight, you’re not eating well. What else am I going to find out about you?” he asked. She cleared her throat and pulled her eyes away, staring at the middle of his massive chest. “Perhaps that I hate you and there’s no way I’m letting you back into my life.” His hand stilled and for a moment after she spoke…it just hung there in mid air. His eyes were sharp as he watched her carefully, barely moving. And then he sighed and took a step backwards. “Call me when you change your mind.” He pulled a card out of the inside pocket of his jacket and placed it noiselessly on the counter. The next thing she knew, the door to her apartment was closing and she could hear the silence, the darkness. With a gush of air, she also realized that she’d been holding her breath while he was near and she wanted desperately to run out after him, to scream out that she wasn’t affected by him despite all those little signs that she’d given him. Instead, she walked to her bedroom on shaking legs, falling into her bed and curling up with the pillow clutched to her stomach while the tears she’d thought had been used up seven years ago came rushing back, spilling over her lashes onto her pillow. She cried out for a future she shouldn’t be desperately wanting any longer. She couldn’t trust Gaston and needed to keep him out of her life. She’d moved on. She didn’t need him or those charming smiles ever again! She’d find funding some way. She was smart and she had a good reputation. She could get through this just like she’d gotten through all other obstacles in the past seven years. Through hard work and determination. Resisting the Tycoon’s Seduction - An Introduction Marissa’s Story…. Eight year old Marissa watched with sad, tearful eyes as her mother’s coffin was lowered into the ground. She held onto her sister’s hand, but Sierra was only two so she was too young to understand what was happening. Marissa knew. She understood and she was so sad she could barely see through the tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. The pain in her tummy was making her feel like she wanted to throw up, but her father would get mad at her if she did that. Her nanny stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder and every once in a while she would pat her shoulder, as if that were supposed to make her feel better. It didn’t. She didn’t think anything would make her feel better. Her mother’s arms had always been soft, always inviting. Every time Marissa suspected that the monsters were hiding in her closet, about to invade her room, it was her mother who seemed to instinctively know that she was scared and would come in and sing to her until she fell asleep. Sierra’s hand tightened on hers and Marissa looked down. Her little sister might not understand, but she knew that Marissa was sad. Which made the tears flow down her baby cheeks as well. Marissa wiped the tears away and tried to smile down at her sister. Sierra didn’t need to understand. Marissa would protect her. And when Sierra started to get the monster visitors, Marissa knew that she could make the leap far enough from her bed so the toe-monsters couldn’t catch her. That way, she could go to her sister’s room and sing to Sierra until she fell asleep. She could do it, she told herself firmly. Sierra needed her now. Back at the house, Marissa breathed a sigh of relief that they were finally away from the cemetery. She didn’t like the idea of her mother there either, but she couldn’t ask her father to bring her home. Somehow, she knew that her father wouldn’t allow that, might even get angry with her. “Come on, Sierra,” Marissa coaxed. “Let’s go get some lemonade.” She took Sierra’s hand again and led her through the large house. In the back yard, set up beside the pool, there were four bar stations, all with her father’s men surrounding them. Her large, round eyes looked at the crowd, wondering which place might have the lemonade that Betty, her father’s housekeeper, had promised her. No one else was drinking lemonade so she wasn’t really sure where to go. She looked around, but everyone had a glass with a dark liquid in it, or a beer bottle. She knew all about the beer bottles because her mother used to complain about them filling up the garbage cans instead of the recycling bins. Marissa tried to think of good memories of her mother so she could tell them to Sierra, but she was thirsty and hungry now so it was harder to think. “This way, little ones,” Betty whispered from the doorway of the kitchen. Betty put Sierra into her special chair, the one that gave her enough height to sit at the table while Marissa climbed onto one of the stools. In the middle of the table sat a large pitcher of lemonade and Betty poured them both a glass. “There you go, dears. I have some sandwiches for you as well.” Marissa sipped her lemonade while she watched the party unfold outside the kitchen windows. She saw her dad laughing at something someone just told him. Lots of men were around and only some women. The women didn’t look very sad about her mother “passing”, Marissa thought. She heard Betty sniffle behind them but nothing made sense today. It was such an odd feeling, knowing that she wouldn’t ever see her mother again. The only explanation people kept giving her was “Cancer”. She didn’t know who “Cancer” was or why that person was more important than they were. Surely “Cancer” should be more polite than to take her mother away. Marissa nibbled on the sandwich Betty placed in front of her, but watching her father laugh and joke with his friends had made her hunger disappear. For some reason, his laughter seemed to deepen the sad feelings she was trying to ignore. She wanted to yell at him, to stomp her feet and demand that he get rid of “Cancer” and bring her mother back. She didn’t do anything like that though. She’d watched over the years and knew that no one yelled at her father. The one time Marissa had heard someone raise his voice to her father was Bruno Cordova. He’d been a huge, ugly, mean guy. Come to think of it, Mr. Cordova hadn’t ever come back to the house. She supposed that her father didn’t invite anyone to his parties if they were mean. But that didn’t make sense either. Because her uncle Carl was pretty mean. He was always pinching her if she passed by him. She’d learned to steer clear of him and would make sure he didn’t do that to Sierra either. It really hurt when he pinched her. With a sigh, she stared down at her half eaten sandwich, her tummy starting to hurt again. She looked at Sierra who was busy eating tiny bites of fruit. Sierra’s chubby cheeks crinkled into a smile as soon as she realized Marissa was looking at her. Blinking back the tears, she smiled as well. “It’s going to be okay, Sierra,” she whispered. Ten Years Later… Marissa sat next to her sister on the sofa, both of them watching a movie and relaxing. It had been a hard week with Sierra coming down with the flu first, then Marissa. Her father had actually left the house because he hated being around sick people which suited them just fine. The house was much quieter when he wasn’t around. Besides, they had Betty to help them out. “Have you chosen which school you want to go to?” Sierra asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Both of them were pretty worn out from trying to fight this bug. Marissa sighed, trying to hide her frustration from Sierra. “Dad wants me to go to the University of Chicago,” she said, keeping all inflection from her tone so Sierra wouldn’t know how upset she was about their father’s decision. Sierra lifted her head slowly from the pillow. “I’m sorry, Mari. I thought you were a shoe-in for Northwestern. Do you know why they rejected you?” Marissa smiled and shook her head, patting Sierra’s hand. “I’m not worried about it.” Sierra looked at her older sister for a long moment before she realized the truth. “You got in, didn’t you?” Marissa shrugged one shoulder and pretended to become interested in the movie. “You should go,” Sierra stated firmly, sitting up and fighting the urge to rush to the bathroom again. “You’re smart, Mari. You shouldn’t let this opportunity pass you by.” Marissa smothered her sob, not wanting Sierra to know how desperately she wanted to get out of this house. Northwestern was only forty minutes away from where they lived so it wasn’t like she’d even be very far away. But her father had put his foot down about attending anything other than a school close to home. Marissa thought about arguing with him, or even not arguing and just leaving the house and doing what she wanted, but she had no means to pay for school and no one would give her a loan or financial aid. Not with her father’s income. She could get a job, but the tuition, room and board at Northwestern was almost sixty thousand dollars for just one year of school. She couldn’t afford that unless her father was willing to pay. “The University of Chicago is a very good school,” Marissa countered. Sierra shook her head. “Yes, but it isn’t Northwestern where you deserve to go!” She slumped down, her frustration showing. “Dad won’t let us do anything!” she whispered furiously. At that moment, the character on the movie flung a baseball over to his stereo system, turning off the background snoring sounds before his parents entered his bedroom. At the same moment, Sierra and Marissa both looked at each other, a slow, mischievous grin spreading across their faces. “Do you think…?” Sierra started to ask. Marissa was almost laughing because she’d had the same thought. “Dad hates it when we’re sick,” Marissa continued. “I’m sure there are sounds…” Both women bounded off the sofa, pushing any lingering symptoms aside so they could fashion their escape. With Marissa on the keyboard, they surfed through the Internet until they found wav files with just about any disgusting sound a sick person might make. They giggled as they made their plans, even figuring out how to wire small speakers to their beds as well as inside their bathrooms complete with remote controls. Sierra was the inspiration for the remotes saying that one of them needed to be outside the room if their father were to question the other’s sickness. “Do you think it will work?” Sierra asked the next day, her flu completely forgotten as they drove to the store for the speakers. “I think it’s perfect!” Marissa said, stopping by an ATM machine to get cash. If they’d learned one thing from their father, it was to never leave a paper trail. And since their father reviewed all of their credit card statements, it was best not to have their purchases create any questions. It took them over a week to set up all the equipment they’d bought, not because there was a lot, but simply because they weren’t exactly sure how to wire all of the connections. Thankfully, their father didn’t ask any questions about their outings or silent bedroom activities. He was just relieved to be able to come back into his house. He’d gone to Miami for “meetings” during their last bout with the flu. They tested their equipment over the next few months, carefully planning their “sicknesses”. They no longer asked their father if they could attend social functions because they didn’t want to give him a head’s up for the nights when they wanted to be “sick”, and therefore give him any suspicions. Marissa had to laugh the first time Sierra went to her middle school dance with her friends. She started becoming “ill” three days before, but didn’t miss any school. So on Friday night, when her father looked at her and saw the pale skin and white lips thanks to their creative makeup application, he stayed away. Betty reported back to him later that evening that she’d heard vomiting in the bathroom. The following morning, Marissa was sitting at the breakfast table when Betty reported back to her father about more noises, knowing perfectly well that Sierra had spent a fabulous night out with her friends and had been home in bed by ten o’clock. She was just sleeping in today. By Sunday, she’d made a miraculous “recovery”. Marissa’s class schedule was approved by her father, but he didn’t see the weekly computer classes she started taking on Thursday evenings. Nor was he aware of Sierra’s boyfriend, Marissa’s math classes, Sierra’s cooking classes or the dozens of nights they finally got to spend with their classmates and friends now that they had a reliable system for avoiding their father. Zeke’s Story… Zeke watched with growing frustration as the two older boys pushed the younger one around on the playground. A smarter kid probably would have just walked on by, but Zeke had been ridiculed all his life for both his enormous size and the tiny, dilapidated house he and his father lived in. He was sick of bullies. It didn’t matter if the abuse was physical or verbal, in Zeke’s mind, it was wrong. He’d been heading home from the library which was a long walk and he still had about two more miles to go. It was almost dark so his dad would just be leaving for his job at the factory as a night janitor. Their town was dominated by the factory and its owners. The pay was pretty bad, the work conditions even worse but it kept the two of them fed. Zeke’s dad didn’t mind, as long as Zeke continued to thrive. He placed his library books on the ground and walked over to the three boys. “What’s going on?” he asked casually, placing his hands on his hips so he was ready with whatever might happen. Now that he was closer, he recognized all three of the boys. The older ones were Billy and Tommy while the younger one was less known to him, but Zeke recognized him as the son of the factory owner, Joshua Sanders. He was pretty skinny and probably about the same age as the two other boys, but smaller and wealthier, making the kid a prime target for bullies. Being the richest kid in the city had some disadvantages, he realized suddenly. “This is none of your business, Zeke. Just keep on walking. Or did you miss that dirty hut you and your Pa call home already?” Billy snickered. Tommy joined in the laughter, shaking his head as he added, “Don’t you have some garbage to dig out of your bed?” Neither Zeke nor Joshua thought the quips were very funny. Taking another step closer, Zeke said, “Any reason Josh here needs to be pinned against that tree?” Billy only pushed Joshua’s shoulder harder, causing the smaller boy to cringe. “I’m okay,” Joshua squeaked out, obviously reacting to the pressure of the two boys’ increasingly threatening grip. “Doesn’t look like you’re okay,” Zeke said. A moment later, Zeke reached out and took the wrist of both bullies and twisted. “Josh, you sure you’re okay?” he asked while he maintained his hold. If the boys didn’t move, there was no pain in their arms. But since the boys kept trying to break free of his hold, Zeke knew they were hurting. Zeke’s father also helped out with maintenance problems around the karate school so Zeke had been allowed a few free lessons. They were coming in handy now. “Let go, you stupid oaf!” Billy screamed. Zeke looked down at Joshua, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. “Thanks,” Joshua said, rubbing his shoulders and trying to smile up at Zeke. “But you can let them go.” Zeke released both of the boys who quickly scampered back, glaring at Zeke who was a year older, but more than a foot taller. Zeke had always been selfconscious of his size and strength, but since there wasn’t anything he could do about it, he might as well use it to his advantage. “Why don’t you both head on home?” he suggested. Billy and Tommy were cowards. Unfortunately, they both had a huge dose of false bravado and they weren’t going to put up with commands, even from someone older and much bigger. Standing on either side of Zeke, they felt they had the upper hand. “We can take him, can’t we, Billy?” Tommy called out, crouching down slightly, raising his fists in a fighting stance. Billy looked at his friend warily, but didn’t want to be perceived as weaker. So a second later, he too took up the same position, both boys ready to pummel Zeke into the ground. Josh tried to intervene, but Zeke just shook his head. “I’m okay,” he said with absolute confidence. Billy and Tommy stupidly rushed him at the same time. Zeke didn’t even hesitate. He simply took a step backwards and both boys collided into each other, falling in disgrace onto the ground. Joshua laughed and Zeke even had to chuckle as he watched the bullies try to figure out what had just happened. It was like a comedy act and Zeke wasn’t even breathing hard. Billy wiped his nose, realizing that he’d knocked it into Tommy’s shoulder or elbow, he wasn’t exactly sure which. “You’re going to pay for that,” Billy growled and started towards Zeke again. Zeke reached out and put a hand to the shorter boy’s head. Zeke was taller which meant all of his limbs were longer as well. So Zeke held Billy more than a foot away from him while Billy’s face went redder and redder with both the exertion of trying to break Zeke’s hold and the humiliation of being bested so easily. When Tommy started to rush him, Zeke released Billy’s head which caused him to fall onto his face. Because of the angle of Billy’s fall, Tommy’s foot caught on Billy’s legs which caused him to tumble back down to the ground as well. This continued for several minutes with Zeke barely even touching the two boys while Joshua had to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter. And each time Billy or Tommy stumbled, they would bruise or bloody another part of their bodies not to mention the mud and grass stains on their clothes and faces. Meanwhile, Zeke and Joshua remained clean and unblemished. “Why don’t you two give it up and just go home?” Joshua finally asked when he could control his laughter enough. Bill and Tommy turned around to glare at him. Billy couldn’t see through one of his eyes because he’d run into Tommy’s knee during one of his falls so it was almost swollen shut. While Tommy had completely missed Zeke during one of his rushes and fallen into the tree. The bark had badly scraped Tommy’s cheek. There wasn’t a great deal of blood, but it would look horrible in the morning. Zeke was already late getting home and he was hungry now, which wasn’t unusual since, because of his size, he was pretty much always hungry. But these two boys were an irritation he didn’t need. “Enough!” he shouted when Billy and Tommy picked themselves up and shifted around on unsteady feet, prepared to come at him one more time. “Go home and get yourselves cleaned up! This is over! You’re going to leave Joshua alone.” Tommy looked at Billy, who only glared back at Zeke with fury in his eyes. Tommy nudged Billy’s shoulder, finished with being humiliated himself. “Come on, Billy. Let’s get out of here.” Billy didn’t want to go, but doing this alone seemed suicidal. “Fine. But this isn’t over,” he growled. Both boys grabbed their book bags and headed home on unsteady feet. Joshua came over and stood next to Zeke, shaking his head as they both watched until the boys were far enough away to no longer be a threat. “Thanks for helping,” Joshua said softly, extending his hand with gratitude. “They were really going to hurt me before you stepped in to help.” Zeke shook the little guy’s hand. “No problem. I’ll walk you home just in case they’re hiding around the corner. anything past them.” Josh looked up at the sky. They’re weasels so I wouldn’t put “It’s pretty dark. Shouldn’t you be getting home?” Zeke glanced up as well, then shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s not far out of my way.” Joshua looked relieved as he picked up his own book bag, then waited for Zeke to lift all of his school and library books into his arms. “Don’t you have a book bag?” Joshua asked, walking beside the enormous kid who had saved him from a brutal pummeling. Zeke shrugged. “Not really.” Josh didn’t say anything, suddenly realizing who he was talking to. “Well, thanks for helping,” he said, feeling awkward because his father paid Zeke’s father so little. He was starting to understand the painful differences in their family incomes. They talked about different things as they made their way across the park and over to the huge Victorian house at the edge of the town. This was where Joshua’s family lived. It literally was the largest house in town while Zeke’s humble abode was arguably the smallest and shabbiest. But at that moment, they became friends despite the economic deltas in their lifestyles and their dramatic body size differences. “Want to come in for dinner?” Josh asked. Zeke stood on the steps of the house and shook his head. Josh was wearing a button down shirt with pleated slacks and nice shoes. Zeke was wearing a teeshirt with a ragged hem which barely fit him. This was the third day in a row he’d worn this pair of jeans. It wasn’t because he was lazy and hadn’t bothered with a clean pair. It was that he only had three pairs of jeans and had to wear each of them multiple days. Food was the priority in his father’s household. Clothes came much lower on the list. “Thanks but I’d better…” “Joshua!” a female voice said from the doorway. “Where have you been?” she demanded, coming down the stairs with fury in her eyes. Zeke stared in wonder at the woman wearing a tailored, black dress and high heeled, black shoes. She even wore pearls in her ears and make up. Ms. Sanders was possibly the most beautiful and sophisticated woman Zeke had ever seen. He’d never met his own mother. She’d died giving birth to him but he’d seen her wedding picture. It was faded and torn up now, but he’d always loved looking at her smiling face as she hugged his dad. “This is Zeke,” Joshua stated loudly, not answering her question immediately. Joshua’s mother stopped and looked at Zeke. “Hello, Zeke,” she said, extending her hand politely. “It’s very nice to meet you.” She looked at his face and his clothes, shaking her head. “Have you eaten, dear?” she asked kindly. “He saved me from Billy and Tommy,” Joshua stated proudly. Joshua’s mother stopped, her eyes turning back to Zeke with tears shimmering on the edges. “What were they doing to my son?” she demanded with quiet fury. Zeke shifted uncomfortably on his heels. “They were probably just playing around,” he said, trying to make light of the trouble. The beautiful woman pulled herself up and took a deep breath. “Those boys are horrid!” she stated emphatically. “If I weren’t so polite, I would go over to their houses and speak with their mothers!” Zeke suspected that she wasn’t going over there because she was afraid of yet another confrontation, but he kept that opinion to himself. If it were his son, he probably would be calling the police about now. “Well, that settles it,” she stated firmly. “Come inside and have some dinner. You look like you could use a home cooked meal.” Joshua rolled his eyes. “You didn’t cook it, mom,” he teased. The woman huffed as if that were irrelevant. “Regardless, the boy needs food, as do you.” She shushed them both inside the house. “Zeke, give me your phone number and I’ll call your mother to let her know that you’re staying for dinner. We’ll drive you home afterwards as well.” “There’s no need, Ms. Sanders,” Zeke said, putting his books down on the floor next to Joshua’s book bag. “Of course there’s a need. I don’t want your mother to worry,” she countered, looking at her son meaningfully. Zeke shoved his hands into the worn out pockets of his jeans. “My mom’s not around.” Ms. Sanders held the phone away from her ear. “What do you mean? Is she at the PTA meeting tonight?” Zeke sighed. conversation. “She died,” he said finally, hoping that would end the Ms. Sanders wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Oh,” was all that came out of her mouth. “Well, then your father?” Zeke shrugged one more time. “He’s already at work,” Zeke explained selfconsciously. Ms. Sanders stared for a long moment as she absorbed this information. “I see,” she said softly and hung up the phone. “Well, it is much better that you’ve come here for dinner then,” she finally announced, regrouping quickly. “Come along, boys. Dinner is already on the table.” She led the way into the pristine dining room, introducing Zeke to Joshua’s father. “It’s nice to meet you,” Mr. Sanders said, closing the newspaper and standing up to shake Zeke’s hand. “And where have you been?” Mr. Sanders said to Joshua, tussling his hair. Zeke watched the people before him, amazed at how much the whole scene looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell picture. He thought his jaw was probably on the floor when a servant walked through one of the doors and put an enormous meat loaf onto the center of the table. There were already roasted potatoes and green beans as well as a salad just stuffed with different kinds of vegetables. “Zeke, you sit over here,” Ms. Sanders was saying. “Take your seat, Joshua,” she admonished. Both boys took their assigned seats and Zeke tried to take cues from everyone else, not sure about the appropriate behavior. When they all sat down and said a prayer of thanksgiving, Zeke wasn’t sure exactly what to do but he pretended to bow his head as well. “Hand me your plate, Zeke. This dish is pretty hot,” Mr. Sanders explained. Obediently, Zeke handed Josh’s father his plate, then watched with his mouth watering in anticipation as Mr. Sanders cut a thick slice of the meat loaf for him. Unfortunately, the meat loaf didn’t make its way onto the plate. Because Josh was regaling his mother and father about Zeke’s rescue, the way Billy and Tommy kept falling over themselves trying to beat up Zeke and their mumbling humiliation as they walked away. At the beginning of the story, Mr. and Ms. Sanders simply looked at the two boys with horror and anger that anyone would dare to hurt their son. But by the end, they were laughing so hard, they were having trouble breathing, gasping between bouts of hilarity. Meanwhile, Zeke’s face turned redder as they looked at him with gratitude and amusement but Zeke’s stomach started growling in pain and hunger. He’d had lunch but it was one of the school lunches and they were never enough for him. Usually, his father had three or four sandwiches already made by the time Zeke got home from the library for his dinner and Zeke never had to wait politely. This time though, Zeke endured, even pasting a polite, if embarrassed, smile on his face and tried not to think about the delicious scents wafting around him. He and his father had soup occasionally, and every once in a while, his dad would come home with a whole chicken. But he’d never had meat loaf before. And he’d never had potatoes that looked so appealing, so warm and delicious. He couldn’t even imagine what the salad and green beans would taste like, and as the Sanders family continued to laugh about the early evening’s foibles, Zeke wondered if he ever would. “Good grief, those boys are a nuisance,” Mr. Sanders finally said, wiping tears of laughter from his cheeks. “I’ll have a talk with their fathers in the morning, but I think we need to get the police involved. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and I’ve spoken with the fathers on more than one occasion so obviously, a gentleman’s handshake isn’t going to work. Legal steps must be taken,” he said firmly. Ms. Sanders agreed with him but Zeke was just relieved to finally have some food in front of him. He waited until everyone else was served before picking up his fork. Not because he knew that was polite, but simply because he had no idea what he should do. So he waited for Mr. Sanders to pick up his fork and did everything the other man did. He ate slowly, just like everyone else at the table. Unfortunately, everyone else wasn’t a growing teenager. So even by the time he’d finished off the ice cream for dessert, he was still hungry but kept quiet. By the end of the night, he thanked Ms. Sanders as he got into Mr. Sanders’ sedan. As Mr. Sanders drove him home, they talked about various things and Zeke was proud of how well he was able to keep up his end of the conversation with the older man. The factory came up several times with Mr. Sanders grumbling about competition with other manufacturers. Zeke jumped out of the car that night, thanking Joshua’s father for the ride home. As he walked through the door, his mind was already going through what he knew of the factory, the various machines his father had mentioned and several ideas stormed through his mind. He sat down on his bed, munching on one of the sandwiches his father had left for him while he worked through the math in his mind, quickly coming up with a solution for one of the issues Mr. Sanders had discussed. When the blue, flashing lights showed up outside his bedroom window, Zeke stood up and walked out of the house. Standing on the broken, wooden stoop, he shielded his eyes as the sheriff approached. “Zeke Vaughn?” the gruff man called out, shining his flashlight in Zeke’s face. Zeke nodded and took another bite of his sandwich. “Yes, sir,” he said quickly. “My dad’s not home. Can I help you?” he asked politely, but something about the way the sheriff was approaching was raising the hair on the back of his neck. “You sure can. Turn around and put your hands on your head,” the sheriff commanded. Zeke wasn’t sure what was going on. He was thirteen years old. And he was being arrested? This didn’t make sense. “Excuse me, sir?” he asked, again, trying to be polite, but he was becoming scared. The sheriff walked up and smacked the sandwich out of Zeke’s hand. “Think you can push around the smaller kids, beat them up and get away with it, huh?” he asked cruelly, twisting Zeke’s arm and slamming him up against the rough wood of their ramshackle house. Zeke’s initial thought was to wonder if his sandwich would still be edible if he could pick it up off of the ground quickly. But the sheriff was snapping handcuffs on his wrists then dragging Zeke across their scraggly front lawn before shoving him into the back of the car. Zeke wasn’t sure what to do or even how to get in touch with his father. He was scared, hungry and unsure of how to proceed or even what he’d done wrong. Was he being arrested for not beating up Tommy and Billy? An hour later, after being put in the holding cell with two other drunks, he finally figured out what was happening. Billy and Tommy, along with their fathers, stormed into the sheriff’s office, going on and on about how a brute like Zeke shouldn’t be allowed out of jail if he were going to beat up their sons. And Tommy and Billy played it up well. They were still bruised and bloodied, their eyes tearing up at all the appropriate moments. When the sheriff was looking, they were sad and scared, but when the sheriff looked away, the two boys would smirk across the office space in Zeke’s direction, an “I told you so” expression on their bruised faces. The sheriff didn’t give Zeke a chance to try and reach his father and he spent a cold, terrifying night in the holding cell with no blanket and no food. He barely slept that night, too afraid of what might happen to him. No one knew he was here and it didn’t sound like the sheriff even cared. Zeke’s home was pretty small, just two rooms with one of them being his tiny bedroom which didn’t include any windows. The main room was only big enough to hold a sofa, a television set and a small refrigerator, stove and sink that barely worked. As Zeke looked around the jail cell, he closed his eyes and pictured a place where he would have lots of room, space that would let him cook anything he wanted and a bed bigger than this whole sheriff’s office. There would be lots of sunshine and everything would be clean, he thought to himself. He held that picture in his mind as he curled up into a ball, trying to find a comfortable place on the concrete floor so he might get a little sleep. He was tired and scared and not sure what the next day would hold. When he heard his father’s voice the following morning, Zeke stood up quickly, ignoring the shooting pain in his legs from having slept on the cold, concrete floor. As Zeke looked at his surroundings, the walls seemed to close in around him. The bars were made of cold steel and the wall he was leaning against was freezing cinder blocks, the paint chipping off and making it feel even more frigid. There wasn’t even room for him to straighten his legs without kicking the other two men in the holding cell. “Sheriff, I can’t find Zeke!” his father was saying. “He’s only thirteen years old. He should be home getting ready for school, but he didn’t eat his dinner last night and his bed hasn’t been slept in.” The sheriff adjusted his belt along his hips and raised his hands to calm Duncan Vaughn down. “Slow down Duncan. Your son is fine. He’s been arrested for assault and has spent the night in the holding cell.” Zeke’s father looked over, his eyes widening in horror as he saw in his son behind bars. “What? Why?” The sheriff stepped in between father and son, shaking his head. “Duncan, you can’t see him now. He has to go in front of a judge for sentencing.” Duncan was furious. “Are you telling me that you kept a thirteen year old boy in an adult holding cell and didn’t even bother to contact me? What kind of a man are you?” his father huffed. “And who says Zeke beat him up? Zeke doesn’t do that sort of thing!” The sheriff was ignoring his father. “Zeke beat up Tommy Thornton and Billy McCabe. You should go over and see their fathers, maybe apologize.” There was a loud noise outside of the doors a moment before Mr. Sanders stormed into the sheriff’s office. “Sheriff! What the hell is this I hear about you arresting Zeke Vaughn? How in the world could this have happened?” The sheriff faced off with both furious fathers, his hand resting on his pistol in a threatening manner. “Now hold on, gentlemen. I have two angry dads who are pressing charges.” “Are you referring to your drinking buddies McCabe and Thornton?” Mr. Sanders sneered ominously. The sheriff wasn’t having any of that. “I may be friends with them, but they claim their sons were beaten up by Zeke Vaughn. I had to take action.” “Not by arresting my son!” Duncan Vaughn roared. “He’s only a boy!” Mr. Sanders huffed up, putting a hand out to hold Duncan back. “First of all, you damn well know that you broke the law by arresting a minor, putting him in with adult violators and then by not calling his father immediately. My secretary is already calling the governor’s office to see about pressing charges against you!” Mr. Sanders said in a low, growling voice. This obviously got the sheriff upset because he started to huff and puff himself. But Mr. Sanders wasn’t finished. “Furthermore, Billy and Tommy assaulted my son. If it weren’t for Zeke here, my son might be in a hospital bed. Instead, those two cowardly boys ran home and lied to their fathers about what happened to cover up the beating they gave each other because of their own ineptitude. And if you don’t believe me, ask Ms. Jamison. She watched the whole thing from across the street. Zeke Vaughn didn’t lay a hand on Billy or Tommy.” “So how did they get all beaten up?” the sheriff blustered, furious because he couldn’t intimidate a smaller man. And because he knew he’d done the wrong thing by arresting a minor but didn’t like his authority questioned by anyone. “Why don’t you start investigating instead of just being a stupid, cowardly bully yourself?” Mr. Sanders challenged. Ms. Jameson, a sweet, elderly lady who had lived across the street from the park for at least the last fifty years, stepped into the sheriff’s office, her eyes snapping around until she saw Zeke in the holding cell. “Oh, you dear, sweet boy!” she gasped and rushed over to him, putting her elderly hands on Zeke’s fingers. “If I’d known that the sheriff had done this to you, I’d have been here earlier. I just heard the news and I’m sorry I am so late,” she said, her voice crackling with both age and emotion. Turning around to the sheriff, she said, “Release this child immediately, George!” The sheriff blushed but stood his ground. “Now Adelaide, I have to…” The diminutive, elderly lady was not going to be patronized. “You have to do nothing more than release him immediately. You messed up, George! Now get the keys and release him or I’ll do it myself!” With one more huff, the sheriff walked over to the door of the jail and opened it up with a key attached to his belt. “Okay, so what’s going on?” he demanded when Zeke and Duncan were hugging. Adelaide pulled her white, wool sweater over her shoulders and glared up at the sheriff. “I saw the whole thing. That stupid oaf Tommy knocked Joshua to the ground, grabbed his collar and then Billy and Tommy pinned Joshua to the tree. Zeke was just walking home and stepped in. All he said was to stop but Billy and Tommy wouldn’t release Mr. Sanders’ boy. So Zeke took their wrists and did it for them. Next thing I knew, Billy and Tommy were on the ground with Zeke and Joshua standing there looking at them.” It was at that moment that the two boys in question stepped into the sheriff’s office, obviously dressed up for court in their Sunday church clothes so they could tell their sob story to the judge. Tom Thornton heard the last of the explanation and started to interrupt but Mr. Sanders glared him into silence. Since Mr. Sanders was also Tom Thornton’s employer, the man backed down quickly. Zeke stood beside his father while Adelaide Jamison continued telling the story, causing Zeke’s father and Mr. Sanders to chuckle at the retelling, just as it had done the previous night at dinner. Even the sheriff had to smother his laughter at some of the antics relayed. When Adelaide was finished, the two boys were still looking angry. “I think it’s time you arrested Billy and Tommy for filing a false police report,” she said with a sweet smile towards their fathers. “And Duncan, I think you should get yourself a lawyer. What George did to your son was wrong and I believe you have a very good lawsuit against him.” She pulled out a card and handed it to him. “My son is a lawyer but don’t feel that you have to go with him. I’ve told him about the situation which is why I’m here. He urged me to step in and do something about the problem before it went too far.” She said this with an admonishing look at George. By the end of the week, things had improved considerably. The two boys were expelled from school for fighting on school grounds, the sheriff was on unpaid administrative leave for abuse of power, enforced by the state’s attorney general who stepped in to make a name for himself, Duncan was given a raise and the two boys’ fathers were fired for being dishonest. Throughout all of it, Zeke watched and learned. He was impressed that life could turn out so well if one stood up for something. He even got a job out of the whole mess. When he went to Mr. Sanders and showed him his calculations on how to increase the factory’s shift work without a significant increase in cost, Mr. Sanders hired him on as a special intern, working with him after school. Resisting The Tycoon’s Seduction “Not that one,” the deep voice said firmly. “The black one.” Marissa’s hand quickly pulled away from the beautiful, pink lace lingerie set she was considering while she spun around at the same time to find the voice that had intruded on her favorite pastime. “Excuse me?” she said, moments before her eyes focused on the tall, ruggedly dangerous looking man behind her. When she caught sight of him, she couldn’t believe her eyes. He was at least six feet, four inches tall with shoulders a linebacker would envy. And he had dark, amused eyes that were laughing down at her for some reason. Immediately she swung her arms behind her back, trying desperately to hide the other lacy or satin lingerie she’d been about to try on. She couldn’t believe she’d been caught in here! Of all the places for someone to approach her, a lingerie shop should definitely not one of them! “Who are you and why in the world would you think I might be even remotely interested in your opinion?” she strangled out, horrified that this man, or any man for that matter, might see the items she might want to purchase. Zeke Vaughn considered the lovely woman with lush, black hair that curled softly down her back and the furious, soft chocolate eyes. She was trying to appear confident, but he saw the underlying vulnerability. He smiled slightly, noting the blush that stole into her velvety, pale cheeks. He moved fractionally closer. “I’m going to be your next lover,” he replied, and watched in fascination as her eyes widened, her pulse sped up and her breathing increased. Her full, pink lips opened, then closed while she tried to absorb his comment and her reaction turned him on even more than her sexy, slender body. Had he really said that? “Excuse me?” she huffed, pulling herself up to her full height which still brought her head only up to the top of his shoulder. Marissa was shocked that any man would dare to be so forward. Men simply didn’t approach her in general and when they did, it certainly wasn’t with a salacious glint to his dark, audacious eyes. Zeke moved closer, touching her cheek briefly and realizing that the texture was even softer than it appeared. “You heard me, little one. I don’t mean to scare you. I was actually going for a completely different effect.” She sputtered, trying to hide her terror of this man and the shivers his nearness was causing inside of her stomach. “I’m not scared! I’m insulted.” Zeke noticed that her breasts were peaked underneath her silk shirt and he couldn’t stop his chuckle. “I didn’t mean to offend. Just stating the truth,” he said and moved even closer, smelling her soft, subtle perfume. It was light and flowery, just like she was. He liked it, he realized. The women he normally dated preferred the heavier, more cloying scents and he never realized how much he disliked them until he had an alternative. “You’re very beautiful. And I think I have to change my mind. The pink probably suits you much more than the black lace would.” His fingers ran tenderly down her arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. For some reason, the man’s attempt to be reassuring only struck her as a challenge. A part of her knew her reaction was a bit irrational but she couldn’t stop the words. She squared her shoulders and faced him, pretending that his touch wasn’t causing her knees to tremble. “I could pull off the black!” she asserted firmly, her eyes glaring back up at him. She tried to step back, but the table filled with lacy thong underwear stopped her momentum. “And please stop crowding me.” He took the black lace bra off of the stand and handed it to her. “Prove it,” he challenged. Marissa actually took the bra and was about to step towards the dressing rooms when she realized what she was doing. Turning back to him, she shoved the black lace back at him. “No way!” His arrogant smile cranked up her anger a notch. “See? The pink would be better.” And he actually dared to pick that one up and hold it in front of her, his dark eyes looking at the lace as if he were trying to picture her in it. “Definitely the pink,” he confirmed. “I can’t wait to see the crystal.” Marissa grabbed the pink lace, just trying to get it away from her chest area. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hide her curiosity and held the pink lace up so she could understand his last statement. When she realized that there was a dangly crystal that would sparkle right between her breasts, she couldn’t help the pink that suffused her cheeks and neck once again. “Leave me alone!” she growled. With an urgency she hadn’t ever felt before, she stepped around the man. Stomping up to the cashier, she dumped all of her items onto the counter, surprising the sophisticated cashier. Marissa wanted to turn around and glare at the man, but she didn’t want him to see her flushed face or the way her body seemed to be tingling because she knew with absolute certainty that he was still watching her. Was he laughing at her? She almost jumped a foot in the air when a strong, dark hand dropped a pink, lace thong onto the pile. “She’ll need that as well,” his deep voice said. “Put it all on my account.” Marissa stared at the lace, horrified that she’d kept the pink bra he’d been examining her in. With her mouth hanging open in horror, she tried very hard to come up with a scathing retort, something to bring the man down a peg. Or ten! Unfortunately, by the time she’d turned around, he wasn’t anywhere in the store. She walked to the front, determined to tell him off, but he wasn’t even in the hallway. Where had a man of his size disappeared to so quickly? “Here you go, Ms. Berutelli,” the cashier stated softly. Marissa’s head snapped around and saw the huge bag, the top covered in silver tissue paper. With a groan, she stepped back. “I can’t take that,” she declared emphatically. The cashier smiled with a twinkle in her eye. “Mr. Vaughn just called a moment ago and told me you’d say that. He instructed me to tell you that if you didn’t take the items today, I was to ship them to your house.” Once again, Marissa couldn’t help it when her mouth fell open in surprise. And that annoying tingling started up once again, irritating her beyond anything she’d ever experienced. “He actually said that?” she snarled. The cashier smiled and nodded her head, still holding the large bag. “What arrogance!” she snapped, but she took the bag and stormed out of the shop. She had planned on spending the whole day here at the stores, spending her father’s money on things she didn’t need. But the possibility of running into that man again was too appalling so she quickly walked to the exit, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat of her little, black roadster. Zooming out of the parking lot, she spent the rest of the drive home coming up with several different ways to embarrass that man just like he’d done to her. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to accomplish most of those ideas because she didn’t know who the man was, where he lived or what he did for a living. With a maliciousness she hadn’t known she was capable of, Marissa briefly considered telling her father what the man had done. He wouldn’t ever allow any man to disrespect her in that manner. But as soon as she thought of the idea, she immediately dismissed it. She would never tell her father about that kind of incident. Mr. Vaughn, or whoever he was, would be dead. Literally. Joe Berutelli wasn’t a man to mess with she’d learned over the years. “What’s wrong?” her sister, Sierra, asked as soon as Marissa had dumped her bag in the closet where her father wouldn’t be able to see what she’d purchased. Marissa flung herself on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in exasperation. “I just had an encounter with a man who really….” She wanted to say something horrible, but her sister was only eighteen years old. “He was just a jerk,” she finished. Sierra tossed her book off to the side, moving so her own face blocked her sister’s view of the ceiling. “Tell me what happened,” she said with mock earnestness. Marissa wasn’t in the mood to play. She was in the mood to hurt someone. Namely, a big, huge brute of a man who had no sense of how to treat a lady. “I just hate men sometimes.” Sierra pulled back and pushed the pillows into a more comfortable position behind her back. “I can’t imagine that. Men usually grovel at your feet,” she teased, looking at her older sister’s beautiful, expressive eyes and her slender figure draped in a white silk shirt and blue wool slacks. She even had a simple pearl necklace around her neck and pearl stud earrings. Marissa was the epitome of class and sophistication which generally intimidated most of the men they encountered. Of course, most of the men who socialized with her father thought that the thickest gold chain was the gateway to a promotion. That, or whoever came up with the most creative criminal enterprise. Her father seemed to respect both aspects of their culture, an issue which continued to confound both sisters. Marissa punched the pillow into a more comfortable shape before pushing it behind her back. “This man was simply horrible! I was just shopping by myself and he came right up to me, talking to me as if he…” she wasn’t sure how to describe what the man had done. Especially since she didn’t really understand it herself. Sierra didn’t have any experience with men and Marissa wanted to help keep her innocent for as long as possible. Marissa was almost twenty-five and she didn’t want to expose Sierra’s sweetness to something so vile as what that man had said to her. “He just said some inappropriate things.” At Sierra’s widened eyes, Marissa knew she’d said something her sister could pounce on with relish. Sierra loved romantic novels, was excited about the idea of being swept away by some magnificent, heroic male who would carry her off to an exotic destination where they would love each other continuously and make babies together. That wasn’t the real world and, at some point, Sierra was going to have to face reality. But Marissa didn’t want that to happen today. Not for a long time, if possible. Unfortunately, her little sister understood enough to know that her older sister’s experience was more exciting than she was letting on. “Oh, please tell me what happened? Was he handsome? Did he have soft, curling hair? Did he touch you and both of you fell instantly in love?” Sierra fell onto the bed, her head next to Marissa’s as she sighed with the fantasy she was whirling around in her mind. Marissa made an inelegant sound and Sierra giggled. “Not even close.” She thought back to the man’s rugged, dangerous looking face, thinking that he’d probably broken that nose several times over the years. And his cheekbones were high, but they didn’t come across as a pretty boy. They were just….tough. Everything about that man told her that he was strong and…wicked. She shivered at the memory of his callused fingers against her cheek. She wasn’t feeling excitement, she told herself. It was simply fear. Fear of what the man might do to her if he ever caught her alone. She didn’t want that to happen. She’d lived in fear of her father’s violence all her life and she was thoroughly sick of it. She wanted a kind man in her life. One who didn’t try and intimidate her for no reason! Thinking about the man certainly wasn’t going to push his memory out of her mind. “What did you do today?” she asked her sister, changing the subject and sitting up against one of the posts on her canopy bed. “School,” Sierra replied with a bored sigh. “I just wish Dad would have let me take calculus this term. It would be so much more fascinating than taking yet another literature class. I hate reading. What’s the point?” Marissa laughed softly, knowing her sister’s math abilities were nothing short of brilliant. “What was on the agenda today?” she asked. “Voltaire,” Sierra said, shivering with revulsion. “Voltaire isn’t so bad,” Marissa came back, smiling at the memory of how much she’d loved reading Candide so many years ago. “He’s actually funny occasionally.” Sierra’s response was only a roll of her eyes. “Calculus doesn’t need to be funny to be interesting,” she claimed. They talked about their plans for the future, how Sierra wasn’t sure what she wanted to do but she definitely wanted to study something math related. Marissa had her own business, but it wasn’t something she could share with anyone but her sister. They’d kept many secrets from their father over the years and would continue to do so as they figured out how to get away from their father’s iron control. The only reason Marissa was still living in her father’s house was to protect Sierra. Marissa didn’t want to consider what their father might do to Sierra if Marissa were to leave. He had a bad temper and took it out on anyone nearby. Three days later, Marissa stood by the pool, a cool glass of lemonade in her hand as she surveyed the crowd that had come to party at her father’s house. She hid the boredom and irritation behind a serene expression, hoping her father wouldn’t demand that she interact with any of his cohorts. “They’re all pretty loud, aren’t they?” Sierra observed, standing next to her sister with a glass of iced tea. Neither sister drank any kind of alcohol because they’d observed this scene too many times. The men crowded around the bar, each of them vying to get the attention of the many bartenders working any event. The beer and whiskey were poured out like water with each man trying to show the big boss, namely their father, that they could handle their alcohol. Marissa glanced around the crowd, letting her eyes move over the men without interest. But as her eyes scanned for an escape, they were unexpectedly caught by a tall, dangerous looking man. A man she had prayed never to see again in her life! And he was staring right back at her. Those dark, mysterious eyes were watching her, causing her to wiggle because she now felt like some sort of bug under a microscope. When his eyes dropped lower, she could sense exactly what he was thinking and she actually hated him for that. When his gaze focused on her chest, she couldn’t believe it when she felt her breasts actually tighten, that obnoxious tingling starting up again, even more intense this time around. “What’s going on?” Sierra whispered, her worried eyes looking at her sister’s arrested expression. “Tell me what’s happening!” she demanded when Marissa just continued to stare at the man. Marissa heard the panic in her sister’s voice and took a deep, calming breath. “Nothing,” Marissa finally replied. “Nothing at all.” When she was able to pull her gaze away, she realized that her hand was shaking. She put her lemonade down on a table and started walking towards the kitchens, needing an escape from the man’s intense and knowing gaze. “I’ll be right back,” she explained to her sister. She hurried through the house, eager to get away from this scene. She knew her father would be furious with her, but at this point, she didn’t care. She’d deal with his anger later. She’d just reached for her purse when her cell phone went off. Digging into her purse, she pulled it out while grabbing her keys and walking towards the garage. The party was still going strong as she raced through the living room and glanced down at the window, praying that one of her friends was letting her know of an emergency that would require her attention. But the words she saw on her small screen made her come to a screeching halt. “You’re wearing the pink set aren’t you?” she read. Looking up, she glanced out of the large living room windows, her eyes colliding once again with the one man she was trying to get away from. He was still standing exactly where she’d seen him before, but he was looking directly at her. From her position in the living room, she was actually closer than before and she gasped when he winked at her, the knowing smile coming across loud and clear. She was glad she was far enough away that he couldn’t see the blush spreading across her cheeks. Because yes…she was in fact wearing the pink lace bra and panty set. She actually loved the crystal that was right now dangling between her breasts, making her very aware of her femininity and of the impact this man had on her. She watched with increasing panic as he walked off of the pool patio and unswervingly through the living room doors. When he was standing directly in front of her, it suddenly occurred to her that she should have run away. Why in the world had she just stood in place while he approached? “What are you doing here?” she asked. The overwhelming feeling she had around this man seemed to be anger, but there was a very real sense of disappointment that he was doing business with her father. “Your father invited me.” She wasn’t sure what to say, wishing that he would just turn around and walk away from any business ventures with her father. She wanted to urge him to find legal ways of doing business and, more shockingly, she wanted to help him with those legal avenues, keep him from this side of the business. The overwhelming sadness and disillusionment were threatening to choke her. She had to get away quickly. “Well, I’m sure that you need to hurry off and finish whatever…business, you have with my father. If you’ll excuse me,” she said, not even bothering to look up at him. He caught her arm, holding her in place. “What just happened?” he asked softly, looking down into her suddenly sad, brown eyes. “One moment you’re ready to tear off my head for being so rude to you, the next you look like you’re ready to cry.” He stepped closer, his finger coming up to touch her cheek gently. Marissa wanted to pull back, but he held her firmly. “I just…” her voice cracked and she cleared it before starting over again. “I don’t associate with my father’s business partners.” She tried to pull away again, but he simply shifted his body so she was trapped between his large thighs and the back of the living room sofa. “Please let me go.” “I don’t think I can,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re quite beautiful. I’m guessing your father is in some sort of horrible business enterprises of which you don’t approve. Is that it?” Her eyes looked up at his, startled by his question. “Why are you here if you don’t know what my father does?” He shrugged slightly. “Because I met you the other day and wanted to make love to you.” He ignored her sharp intake of breath as he continued, “The only way I could figure to do that was to get to know you, show you that I’m not such a horrible guy, prove that I’m a good lover and that I’ll satisfy your every need.” He said this so softly, his hand reaching up and pushing her dark hair behind her ear and letting his finger caress her earlobe, causing her whole body to shiver with the contact. “I can, you know. And I think we could be very good together.” “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, trying to tamp down the terror that was making her tremble so he wouldn’t know just how tempting his words sounded to her ears, or how much she suddenly wanted him to touch her again. His large, muscular body was so close, so tempting and she could feel the heat emanating from his thighs and his chest against her own body. She almost swayed closer, wanting to know what he felt like and she had to keep her hands fisted by her sides so she wasn’t tempted to reach out and touch him, to discover the texture of his skin. “Please let me pass.” She tried to sound firm, but even to her own ears, the command sounded more like a whispered plea. “I can’t do that, love. You’re just too tempting.” He bent down and kissed the corner of her mouth, enjoyed the feeling of her trembling which told him that she wanted him almost as much as he wanted her. In fact, he’d never been so fascinated by a woman before. Her soft curls teased his nose as he moved his mouth to her earlobe, kissing the sensitive area right below before taking the lobe between his teeth and gently biting down. He smiled when she jumped, but she didn’t pull away. In fact, one of her small hands came up and rested against his chest. He suspected it was initially to push him away, but her fingers curled slightly as if she needed to both hold onto him and touch him more firmly. “Come home with me, Marissa.” He kissed her neck, grazing his teeth against her skin before kissing it. He wanted to taste the pulse at the base of her throat, to wrap his hands around her tiny waist and pull her closer, but he sensed her hesitation and didn’t want to frighten her any more than what she was already feeling. He didn’t want her fear, he wanted her passion. “Marissa!” a loud, booming voice came from the doorway. Marissa jumped, quickly extricating herself from this stranger’s embrace and took several steps backwards. “Dad, this isn’t what you think,” she was quick to assure her father who was glaring at the two of them. She actually stood in front of the tall man, her arms pushing him behind her as if she could protect him. “We were just having a conversation.” “About what?” her father demanded, stepping into the living room and looking as if he were in a towering rage. “And where the hell is your sister?” His short, rotund body swiveled as if he suspected that his youngest daughter were hiding somewhere behind a chair. He looked angry, ready to take that anger out on whoever irked him even slightly. Marissa blinked, not sure how he could have changed the subject so quickly. “Sierra is outside,” she came back. “I just left her by the pool.” Joe Berutelli’s hands formed fists by his side and Marissa knew this was a very bad sign. “Your sister left the party right behind you. Care to explain what’s going on?” Marissa hadn’t been aware of Sierra’s departure. In fact, she’d only been aware of this man and the anger, and other feelings that he seemed to invoke inside of her. “Dad, you don’t need to worry about this man. I don’t even…” she started to say but the stupid man interrupted her. “I’m Zeke Vaughn,” the tall, mysterious man said, stepping around her and extending his hand towards her father. “I appreciate you inviting me on such short notice.” Marissa was amazed at the transformation in her father at the mention of the man’s name. It was as if all of his anger had suddenly dissipated for some reason. And this man named Zeke…who was he and how could he contrive to dissolve her father’s anger so quickly? Her father seemed to be positively exuberant now as he shook the taller man’s hand with enthusiasm. “Zeke Vaughn! I’ve heard a great deal about you,” her father effused. “Come, let’s go into my office and talk. I think we can do a lot of business together.” Zeke glanced back at Marissa, noting the stoic expression that suddenly came over her lovely features. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take a rain check on that discussion,” he said, turning back to the man. As Zeke surveyed the man’s bloodshot eyes, the spot of blood on his collar and the florid cheeks, things started to fall into place. Zeke had known that Joe Berutelli wasn’t a man to mess around with. But now that he was here, and he understood the fear in Marissa’s eyes, he found himself trying to figure out how to get her out of the house. He was being ridiculous, he told himself as he made his excuses and turned to leave. Marissa was twenty-four years old and had survived living with her father for a long time. He was sure that her father wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. But even as he walked out into the summer heat, something niggled in the back of his mind. For the first time in his life, he felt something more than just sexual need for a woman. He had this strange feeling, as if he wanted to protect Marissa. And was that actually possessiveness he was experiencing? He’d never cared if a woman came or went, as long as they were both mutually satisfied with the relationship. But something about the worried look in her eyes, and the relief when he walked out the door, struck a chord inside of him. Shaking his head, he realized that he was being ridiculous. Marissa was just another woman. A strikingly lovely woman, but merely another luscious, feminine body. They could have a good time together if she would just learn to relax and accept this mind-blowing attraction that they had for each other. As he pulled the door to his black Jaguar open and slid into the leather seats, he looked back at the house, surprised that he hadn’t made the connection between Marissa’s father and the infamous Berutelli family before. The Billionaire’s Secretive Enchantress Prologue Sierra stared at her sister closely, not understanding what was wrong. Something had disturbed her normally unflappable sister and it scared her. “Marissa, what’s happened?” She felt her sister shiver and a moment later, Marissa simply disappeared into the house. Sierra watched carefully, glancing at her father to see if he’d seen the escape as well. Hopefully not and Marissa could make a clean getaway. But as she surveyed the crowd of people around her father’s luxurious pool, her father’s suspicious eyes were following his eldest daughter closely. The look she saw in those dark, evil depths indicated that he definitely wasn’t happy about his eldest daughter’s disappearance. Sierra was just about to try and get her sister’s attention – to call Marissa back – but at that moment, her eyes, and her breath, were snagged by a tall, gorgeous man who stepped out onto the flagstone patio. She gasped, her body frozen in stunned fascination as the strange, attractive man looked around, his eyes seeming to take in all of the important details. Unfortunately, Sierra wasn’t one of those details, but why would she be? A man as striking as he was wouldn’t look twice at a young, skinny teenager who hadn’t a hope of blossoming into the kind of woman who probably caught his eye. Even at eighteen, Sierra hadn’t formed the curves of a woman, not even a hint of what might happen. It hadn’t ever bothered her until this moment, until she’d seen this man. And had his eyes pass over her, barely even seeing her. She wasn’t a raving beauty. Her best asset, her long, brown hair, was tied behind her and braided down her back. That left her skinny, gangly arms and legs left for him to see and they weren’t very interesting. She sometimes thought her eyes were pretty, but there was only so much one could do with boring, blue eyes. In that same instant, her father noticed the man as well and Sierra’s heart sank with disappointment. With a lurch, her father stepped around his contemptible minions hovering like gnats around the bar and moved over to the tall, dark haired stranger, greeting him effusively. Sierra wished with all her heart that this one man wasn’t one of her father’s pathetic, rock-slithering underlings. She was drawn to his earthy looks, handsome demeanor and bulging muscles that strained the fine cotton shirt stretched over his broad shoulders. Sierra watched him with a sinking heart, wondering why he would even associate with her father and his ilk. The stranger certainly didn’t look like the rest of the men surrounding the pool with their gaudy, thick, gold chains and their ill-fitting shirts, most of them with bellies that protruded repulsively over their belts. No, this new man appeared to be refined, dignified. He had no paunch at all. In fact, she suspected that he actually had ridges on that flat stomach of his. There was just something about the way he held himself, the way he walked, with confidence and elegance, that told her he worked out a great deal and took too much pride in his appearance to allow himself to get flabby. In addition, there wasn’t any jewelry on him at all, not even a tacky, pretentious, pinky ring. His white, tailored shirt was tucked neatly into his pressed slacks without any overlap. In fact, he looked more muscular than all of the men combined. In a word, he was gorgeous! But what was he doing here? Her father seemed to be excited to see him. She watched with growing disappointment as her father walked the man over to the others by the bar, all of them looking eager to welcome this new person into their midst simply because her father was introducing him to everyone. That was a sure sign that the stranger was important. The men who hung around her father might not be the best and brightest at math or science, but they were experts at reading body language, understanding politics and sucking up to the important people. In other words, they had street smarts. They knew how to survive. Sort of, she thought with sadness, since there had been men at her father’s previous parties who were just as street savvy but had mysteriously disappeared. Briefly, she noticed the man’s dark eyes glance in her direction. Did he hesitate when he saw her? Or was it just her hopeful imagination? The moment was brief and, all too quickly, her father was leading the handsome stranger in the opposite direction. When the two disappeared into the house, heading towards her father’s office, Sierra felt her heart melt because the only people who went into her father’s office were underlings or business associates. Either alternative was…unfortunate. She felt her body deflate as if it were a balloon, disappointed at the reality that the one man she’d met who looked fascinating, who instantly made her heart race with excitement simply because he was close by, was nothing more than a minion or yet another petty criminal in a pathetic army of unintelligent, irresponsible brutes. In the past, she had tried very hard to love her father, but it was difficult when she completely disagreed with everything he stood for. The man had built an empire on crime and brutality and the more she discovered about his business enterprises, the less she respected him. It wasn’t even that he brought the brutality home. After her mother’s death from cancer when she was two, Sierra and her sister had basically been raised by nannies. Her father was negligent at the best of times. But that one man, with his tall, confident stride, his square jawline and intelligent looking eyes, he’d been different! Surely he couldn’t be… She stopped commiserating her loss when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Why were three of her father’s men walking towards his office? And why the rush? She stared at the door through which her father and the stranger had disappeared, trying to tell herself not to worry. Something told her to go through that door, to stop…whatever was happening inside that dreaded office. But one of her older cousins chose that moment to come over and tease her about school, obviously trying to distract her from what might be happening. She kept up the chatter, but her awareness of the ongoing conversation never left her mind. Looking around at the cluster of men surrounding the bar, she didn’t like the way they were all watching the door either. It looked like several of them were expecting something dramatic to happen, something that might be hazardous to one’s health. Specifically, the health of the man who had disappeared with her father. But they’d gone into her father’s office! That was supposed to be the place he discussed business. She was fairly certain her father didn’t condone violence so near to his house. Sierra was under the impression that he maintained a distance from those kinds of activities, even if he might be the man who ordered the violence. She kept her eye on the doorway to her father’s office, wondering if there was some way she could intervene. Maybe if she just pretended to be a ditzy female, stepped in with a silly question for her father, she might catch a glimpse of what was going on inside. Perhaps she could stop anything that could be going wrong? She’d never done something like that before, nor had her father ever allowed her in his office. If he wanted to speak with her, he came to the main house. It was a well-known fact that his office space was forbidden territory. So if she were to do that, his wrath would come down hard on her head. As she contemplated the situation, she knew that she didn’t care what happened to herself. The man that had been lured into her father’s office was innocent. She had absolutely no way to know this, but she instinctively knew it was the case. Would her conscience allow her to ignore what might be happening simply because she was afraid of the repercussions? No. She’d never forgive herself if she didn’t do something to stop the brutality despite her shaking hands and rapidly beating, terrified heart. She stood beside the pool, the heat of the sunshine beating down on her head, as she struggled to come up with a reasonable, or even an unreasonable excuse, for interrupting her father’s conference. While she debated the issue, two more of her father’s men must have received some sort of signal because both of them started hurrying towards her father’s office and Sierra didn’t like the looks of things. The two men appeared worried, anxious even and that raised her anxiety level even higher. When these men were anxious, bullets started flying. Their idea of diplomacy was to shoot all moving objects first and sort out the problem later. Dead bodies were merely a hindrance, not a hazard. She tried to step in front of her father’s lieutenants, but her father’s second in command, Jimmy, simply stopped her with a hand held out in front of her. She looked up at him, glaring out her anger. “Jimmy, what’s going on?” she demanded, trying to hide her terror at the possibilities of what might be happening. Jimmy was only about two inches taller than she was, but he had an evilness about his eyes that had always made her nervous. He had big, bulky shoulders and a belly that wasn’t as bad as some of the others mooching off of her father at the bar, but it definitely would benefit from some abdominal crunches. Jimmy shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry yourself about, Sierra. Just leave it be,” he replied firmly, standing directly in her path and looking as if he were going to stop her if she proceeded to interfere. Sierra peered around his shoulder, shivering when one of her father’s men came out of the house, dunking his now-bloody hand into one of the ice buckets in which the party’s beer was cooling. That was the clincher, she thought. There had obviously been violence and it was pretty harsh if the man’s hand was any indication. These men prided themselves on dealing with pain inflicted by others, but Tony, the man with his hand in the ice, was not amused by whatever had gone down in the office. When her father’s big, black Lincoln pulled out of the garage, Sierra ignored Jimmy and spun around in the opposite direction. As she rushed through the house, she grabbed her own purse and keys, hurrying out of the house. She raced as quickly as possible through to the garage. She dove into her tiny car, praying she wasn’t too late to catch up with the big, black Lincoln. She also fervently prayed that she hadn’t been wrong about the handsome stranger being in that car. What if he were still back at the house? What if he needed help and she was off chasing some car with just her father’s goons in it heading out for a beer run? As she zipped out of the garage, she spotted the big car turning the corner at the end of the street. She didn’t have time to be indecisive. She had to hurry if she was going to catch up with them. She zipped by several of her neighbors, earning a glare for her rude driving and pushed on ahead. She finally caught up with them at the light over by the local grocery store, but held back, afraid her father’s men might spot her if she got too close. Her eyes focused only on keeping up with the huge, black car. She suspected that, somehow, the stranger was inside of that car. Her heart and several pieces of evidence were telling her that something was very, very wrong. Fifteen minutes later, she stopped a block away from the black car in a relatively dingy, older section of Chicago where the warehouses and now-unused factory buildings were abandoned except for the rats and drug dealers. It was a section that several community groups had tried to revitalize, but without much success. When neither of her father’s men got out of the obtrusive vehicle, but a large, dark form was pushed out of the car from the back seat, she gasped in horror. The black car pulled away with a harsh screeching of tires and Sierra accelerated cautiously forward, her heart pounding frantically with the fear of what she might find. When she pulled up even with the alleyway, she struggled for breath, shocked by what she was seeing. Sierra jumped out of her car, barely remembering to put it in park in her rush to get to the wounded man laying on the gravel as if he were a piece of trash. She rushed over to the man, cradling his head in her lap and trying to shield his face from the harsh glare of the sun. She heard him moan and rested her hand against his cheek. “Please don’t die on me,” she begged to the extremely large, inert form. “You just have to be okay. I’ll make this all okay, if you’ll just survive this horrible incident,” she whispered, unaware that she was actually sobbing out the words. With her cell phone in one hand, she cradled the man’s head, her fingers laying on his cheek as she sobbed almost uncontrollably. She could barely dial nine-one-one because her hand was shaking so badly. As soon as the operator came online she said, “Please, I need an ambulance here as soon as possible.” She squinted into the hot, summer sunshine, trying to read the street signs halfway down the block. It was one of those horrible, hazy days that Chicago was famous for, so the street signs were a bit blurry. Squinting through the smog, sun and haze, she finally read the words and almost yelled them through the phone. She told the operator her location, and then kept answering the questions about this stranger’s condition. She couldn’t believe all the bruises that were quickly forming on the man’s face and body. His previously pristine, white shirt was now torn and bloodied. As she sat with him, she didn’t realize that tears were streaming down her cheeks, inadvertently landing on his face. When she heard the ambulance in the distance, she felt a small amount of relief. It felt like it had taken them hours to reach her location, but it was probably only minutes. Finally, the paramedics were jumping out of the vehicle with their stretchers and equipment, urging her to step away from the man so they could help him. Sierra didn’t want to let go of his head, afraid of letting it rest on the gravel for even a moment. She’d been cradling the man’s head in her lap, praying to God that he would save this man from an undeserved death. She had no idea what had gone on in her father’s office, but she was sure, with an instinct born of desperation and experience, that this man was innocent. From looking at the condition of the man, he’d probably insulted her father in some way, and this was his punishment. It wasn’t fair. No matter what the insult, no one should have to deal with this kind of torture. The paramedics were loading the man into the ambulance, telling her to drive to the hospital so she could help her “brother”. She didn’t understand that part of their comments, but she jumped back into her car and raced behind the ambulance. It took precious moments to find a parking space, but she was racing through the doors of the emergency room entrance just as the stranger was being pushed behind a pair of swinging doors. “You’ll have to wait out here for your brother, ma’am,” one of the nurses was telling her, grabbing her arms gently and leading her towards a plastic chair. “He’s going to be fine,” the woman was assuring her. “Promise?” Sierra whispered, unaware and uncaring that the tears were falling once again – unconcerned that she had mascara streaks on her cheeks and her brown, curly hair was sticking out in different directions. She even had some of the man’s blood on her own shirt. It would ruin the blouse, but that was inconsequential compared to the man’s pain and anguish. She just wanted that man to live. “The doctors at this facility are excellent,” the woman assured Sierra, resting a firm hand on her shoulder. “They will do everything to help him. You can be sure of that.” Sierra didn’t like that statement. It wasn’t the absolute reassurance that she was looking for, but more of an anemic comment that nurses all around the world made to people who were panicking about their loved one. She had no idea how long she sat in the painful, plastic chair, staring at the double doors, watching people rush in and out, doctors going in but not coming out. She lost count of how many doctors were trying to heal the man. On one level, she should be reassured that so much expertise was being expended. On the other hand, she didn’t like the possibility that he was so hurt that he needed that much care. It might have been an hour or ten, she wasn’t really sure. There weren’t any windows where she was sitting so she wouldn’t have been able to gauge the time even if her mind were functioning enough to make the connection between the daylight and nighttime. In fact, she must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, a gentle hand was touching her shoulder. Sierra jerked awake with a start. It took her only seconds to realize where she was and she jumped up, ignoring the shooting pain in her legs that had been curled up in the tiny, uncomfortable, plastic chair for what might have been several hours. “Yes?” Sierra felt the shivering start even before the doctor had a chance to explain. “Is he okay? Is he in pain?” The doctor smiled into her soft, blue eyes, relieved that he could convey good news this time. “Your brother is going to be okay,” he said to reassure her. Sierra felt as if she were going to faint with that news but she gripped the back of the chair and forced her mind to function properly. As the news sunk in, she was so relieved, she started crying again, grabbing the doctor’s hand and gripping it between both of hers. “Thank you!” she whispered with intensity. “Not so fast,” the doctor cautioned gently, clearing his throat at the stunningly beautiful woman standing before him. Even with her mascara running down her face, he could see her porcelain complexion. Her big, blue eyes made him forget his wife while she looked up at him. They actually made him forget to breathe for a moment. This young girl was exquisitely gorgeous and the deep compassion shining through her lovely eyes only added to her beauty. He felt bad when those blue eyes filled up with anxiety. The doctor shook his head and focused on her words, trying to explain the whole situation. He had to stop thinking of her loveliness and focus on explaining her brother’s condition. Clearing his throat, he took her hand and guided her back to the chairs so they were both sitting down. “He’s going to need a great deal of care. Right now, he’s in a coma so that,” he heard her gasp but put a reassuring hand to her shoulder and guided her back to focus on his words, “ so we could operate more safely. He has several broken ribs, one of which punctured a lung. His right collar bone is broken, his left leg is broken in two places and there are several contusions which bruised his internal organs. Thankfully, nothing was punctured or things would have been much worse. But it was a good thing you were right there and able to call when you did. He wouldn’t have made it if you’d been any later.” The doctor chuckled at the young beauty’s worried expression. “That was some bar fight he was in.” Sierra absorbed all of this information with a painful heart. The doctor thought the man had been in a bar fight? Should she tell him the truth? What would happen if she said that her father’s men had done this? Surely there would still be blood in her father’s office. Maybe the police could seize the car and have it tested. But would that get back to his father? He hadn’t been driving the car, she hadn’t seen him beat up this stranger and she hadn’t even heard him order the beating. Or was her father smart enough to clean up all the evidence? He wasn’t a stupid man. No one could create the enormous criminal empire Joe Berutelli commanded and be unintelligent. He’d gone this long without any problems with the law, or at least no problems that she knew about, so it was probably a good bet that he’d already cleaned up any evidence that might incriminate him. Besides, if she told this doctor that it hadn’t been a bar fight, the police would get involved and they might start asking questions. If they asked anything of her father, he would know that the stranger was still alive. Wasn’t it better to let the man heal before she took on gaining justice for the stranger? A moment later, the doctor cleared his throat and looked serious again so Sierra brought her eyes up from the floor to focus on his kind features once again. “He’s in recovery now and the medicine we used to induce the coma will be wearing off pretty soon. He’ll be moved to the intensive care unit and I can’t say how long it will take before he recovers enough to be moved to a regular room, much less to be released.” He looked sad as he said, “This could be a long, painful and expensive ordeal ahead for your brother.” “Don’t worry about payment. I’ll make sure everything is taken care of. Just make sure he’s not in any pain. Please!” Sierra cried, relieved that he was still alive. She’d take it one day at a time. “When can I see him?” she asked, not sure if the beaten man even wanted to see her but she could peek at him while he was unconscious, just to make sure he was really okay. The doctor smiled, blushing slightly when Sierra smiled back at him. Embarrassed at his reaction since he was a fifty year old man and this woman couldn’t be older than twenty, he admonished himself and reminded himself of his mission at the moment. Besides, she was probably younger than twenty by the kind, innocent look about her. As the doctor glanced around, he noticed several other men in the waiting room were having the same problem and he instinctively wanted to put a protective wall around this girl-child, to guard her against their lascivious thoughts. He hated the way several of the men were glancing in her direction, some of them actually staring with adoration. In answer to her question, he said, “He’ll be brought to the ICU as soon as the nurses in the recovery room think that he is well enough to endure the change. Once he’s set up, the nurses will allow you to talk to him. Whatever you say, be positive, talk to him, let him hear your voice so he knows that his family is around him, reassure him that everything is going to be okay and tell him stories of his past or about your other brothers and sisters. We don’t know all that happens with the brain, but we know that he will hear your voice and recognize what you’re telling him.” “Yes!” she gasped, excited about the doctor’s prognosis and eager to help in any way possible. “I’ll go down there right now.” She was grabbing her purse as the doctor walked wearily down the hallway when one of the nurses stopped her. “Miss?” she called out. Sierra stopped hurrying, trying to smile but she was too tired at this point, and too relieved. All she wanted to do was to see this stranger and make sure that her father hadn’t damaged him too much. “Yes?” she asked. “I’m sorry to bring this up at this point, but we need your brother’s insurance information,” the nurse said, handing the forms on a clipboard to Sierra. Sierra had no idea if the man had health insurance or not, but she wasn’t going to impose the expense of her father’s brutality on the man’s financial woes. Pulling out her wallet, she slipped a credit card out of the slot. “Here, use this for any expenses,” she said, knowing that her father hadn’t put any limit on this credit card. It would serve him right to pay for the recovery of the man he’d beaten. “Don’t spare any expense to help this man get better,” Sierra urged the nurse who was looking back at her with a surprised expression. “But don’t you want…” she started to say, only to stop when Sierra shook her head adamantly. “No. All expenses should go on that card. If the card won’t cover it, contact me immediately and I’ll make sure everything is paid for,” she said, writing down her contact information. She would sell the jewelry her father had given her over the years in order to pay the man’s hospital expenses if the credit card wouldn’t cover all the costs. With that, Sierra walked away, furious with her father and shaking with anticipation at seeing the stranger she’d never actually met. Their eyes had seen each other, but she was sure he wouldn’t remember her. There had been too much going on at the party for him to have really seen her so she’d have to be careful. She didn’t want him to recognize her since it might bring back bad memories. She followed the directions to the ICU and was finally directed to the correct room. She found the man lying on the hospital bed hooked up to so many machines her stomach twisted into knots just hearing their beeping noises. She was amazed because, even with bruises covering his face, bandages around his head and around his chest, his leg encased in a cast and so many machines beeping around him, the man still managed to look amazingly sexy and confident. She stepped into the room, her fingers tenderly touching his hand as she sat down in the chair. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, looking at the man’s features in an effort to see if he understood anything she’d said. “I can’t believe my father did this to you, but I’ll try very hard to make it right.” She told him what the doctor had said, commenting on how nice he looked, how handsome he had seemed when he’d first stepped out onto the patio and how he had taken her breath away. She kept talking to him, fearful that one of the nurses would tell her that she had to leave or that visiting hours were finished. But no one disturbed her although occasionally someone came in to check on the man’s vitals or to put something into the IV. The morning sun was just starting to creep over the horizon but she ignored the time and her exhaustion. The nurse came in at some point, smiled at Sierra and urged her to keep talking because it was “helping enormously”. Apparently, the man’s vitals were extremely strong for someone in his condition. There was a worry about infection, but Sierra promised to be careful, not sure if she could do anything to stop an infection, but willing to do anything to try. She had no concept of time, just of the man’s features as he valiantly tried to recover from his injuries. She held his hand, her fingers rubbing his bruised and bloodied knuckles, surprised at the calluses on his fingers and the palm of his hand. It indicated that he was a working man. The complete opposite of what she had thought upon first seeing him. That only made him more attractive to her and she wanted to comfort him. His calluses and his dress shirt were a contradiction. The shirt was obviously expensive, but his hand indicated a completely different lifestyle. She liked even the mystery about him. As she stared at his handsome, beaten and bruised face, her thoughts drifted to what he might be like as a person. She wanted to kiss him, to run her fingers through his hair and feel the softness. Or would his hair be rough like his hands? His chest was so muscular and she blushed when one of the nurses stepped in to check his bandages, revealing the man’s stomach which was ridged with muscles, just as she’d suspected when she’d seen him across the pool. What she hadn’t anticipated was the enticing line of black hair that curled up from below the stiff hospital sheet. Very intriguing, she thought as she tried to hide her interest from the nurses. Was he naked below? She shivered at the idea and then pushed it aside. The man was in a coma! How could she even think something like that? She’d never seen a naked man but here she was, trying to get a peek at him. As soon as they were alone once again, she turned back to the man, a grimace on her face. She knew he couldn’t see it so she felt a little silly. “Sorry about my bad thoughts,” she whispered to him. “I have to confess that you’re a very fascinating specimen of manhood. But that’s really no excuse because you’re…well,” she blushed and looked at the man from the top of his head to his toes that were sticking out of his cast, “you’re incapacitated and that’s not really fair.” “I’ll confess that I haven’t really dated anyone seriously and even those boys that I’ve dated, well, they’re no match to you physically. Not that you would be even remotely interested in me because I’m well…I’m me,” she said, thinking about her breasts, or lack of breasts. She laughed, feeing ridiculous, but she couldn’t move away. She was drawn to this man in some odd, indefinable way. “I’m afraid I’m taking advantage of you by looking at your body when you’re not around to tell me to stop. I know I’d feel very angry if our positions were reversed.” She thought about that for a moment, looking down at his long, elegant fingers, the skin over his knuckles broken and battered which gave her a smile because the man had fought back, at least for a few minutes. “Anyway,” she laughed and moved her fingers higher on his hand, covering his wrist and feeling the strong bones underneath her fingers, “I shouldn’t be so fascinated but I am and you’re asleep so I’ll at least pretend that I’m ashamed of my lack of consideration.” She sighed and ran her fingers over his forearm, loving the almost rough feel of the arm on his skin. It was so different from her own skin and she was completely entranced by the differences. “Okay, I’ll behave,” she promised, but it was only a half-hearted attempt at being appropriate. She laughed softly and shook her head. “At least, I’ll try to behave. It isn’t easy since you are extremely fascinating.” She glanced at his face, so bruised and battered and her heart broke for his pain. “Probably not something you want to hear right now, though. I’m sorry. You’re probably thinking I’m totally insensitive. And you’d be correct.” She looked at him with soft eyes. “My only excuse is that, well, confidentially, you’re quite spellbinding. I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone quite like you.” She grimaced again. “Not that we’ve actually met. Not officially, anyway. Nor will we ever meet. You’ll probably hate me if you knew who I was.” She was rambling now, but the doctor had said he could hear her so she shifted to other, more interesting subjects. She continued to talk to him until her voice was hoarse and she couldn’t speak any longer. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but she fell asleep, her head resting against his hip and her hand holding his own. Drake woke up at some point in the night, confused and in more pain than he’d ever thought was possible. He couldn’t move his leg and he slowly lifted his head in order to figure out why but even that was difficult. His leg was encased in a cast and lifted higher than the bed on some sort of pulley system. There were beeping sounds all around him, lights, white sheets, a hideous mint colored wall…he was in the hospital, he finally realized. His face hurt like hell and he tried to lift his hand to figure out why but he couldn’t move his arm, which confused him. Nothing about his arm hurt. His ribs hurt, it ached to breathe, there was something seriously wrong with his stomach and he couldn’t believe the pain shooting up both of his legs. But nothing was wrong with his arm except that he couldn’t move it. He laid his head on the scratchy hospital pillow, every cell in his brain aching with the pain shooting around in his skull. When he finally had enough energy, he lifted his head once again and looked at his arm and was startled to find the dark-haired beauty he’d seen earlier today. Or was it yesterday? He wasn’t sure what day it was, or even if it was day or night. She was laying on his arm, her hair draped over his thigh with the curls wrapping around in places he really shouldn’t be thinking about right now. He suddenly realized that she’d been crying. He wanted to lift his hand, to touch the tear tracks that had marred that beautiful skin but she was holding his hand tightly and he couldn’t move anything. In the end, he accepted that it felt good to just have her close, to smell that incredible, honeysuckle perfume, and listen to her soft breathing. The Billionaire’s Pregnant Lover - An Introduction Dominic's Story.... Ten year old Dominic glared at the boy in the front of the room.  What a “goody-goody,” Dominic thought with disgust.  The kid had only lived in the neighborhood for a few months, knew nothing of how things were run.  Dominic understood that he’d have to give the kid a lesson, show him that he wasn’t in charge.  Leslie Urman turned around and whispered something to the new guy and Dominic just about spit on the floor as jealousy burned in his gut.  He didn’t spit, but only because he’d been sent to the principal’s office last week for doing the exact same thing. Glancing at the clock, Dominic counted down the minutes until recess.  He’d confront the other boy quickly, get the message across, then charm Leslie back into his corner.  He might be only ten years old, but he still preferred all the girls to like him more than the other boys. The teacher handed out the math test and Dominic rolled his eyes at the simple problems, irritated that he had to waste time on questions like these.  His pencil skimmed down the page, filling out the answers quickly before walking to the front of the room to hand in his paper.  But the new kid slapped his own paper down first!  Unheard of!  Impossible! Dominic looked at the other boy.  They were about the same size although this kid had slightly darker hair.  Even his eyes were dark – almost black – but in reality, they were probably just a dark brown.   In that instant, his animosity dissipated and Dominic nodded his head, acknowledging a fellow math aficionado.  There weren’t any others in the class who could do math as quickly as he could, so there must be some redeeming qualities to the guy. Dominic moved back to his seat, rethinking his plan.  Maybe the guy wasn’t so bad.  Maybe there was some way the two could peacefully co-exist.  His meditations on dropping his loner status were interrupted by the principal walking into the room.   “Ms. Novak,” the principal was saying, interrupting the test the rest of the students were taking, “I have a new student for your class.  His name is Angelo Donati.”  The principal looked down at the boy with a warning in his eye.  “Mr. Donati, please take a seat and make sure you remember all the items we discussed in my office.” Dominic watched as Angelo stared down the principal, an action Dominic admired significantly, and his respect for this new guy rose exponentially without knowing anything else about him.  It took several moments, but the principal actually backed down.  Dominic smirked, thinking about the ridiculous rules the Principal had imposed on several of the students lately.  It was nice to think that someone could take the man down a peg or two. The dark haired new guy took the only available empty seat which was three rows over and five seats up.  It gave Dominic a chance to study the new guy who was immediately given the math test.  “Just give it your best shot,” his teacher, encouraged. Angelo looked down at the paper, picked up his pencil and Dominic noted the time on the clock above the classroom doorway.   Sure enough, he still finished his math test faster than the rest of the class.  As Angelo was walking back to his seat after handing in the paper, Dominic looked towards the front and the dark eyed kid was looking back at him.  He felt it too and Dominic almost laughed out loud.   There was just something about competition that stirred something inside of him.  He loved it!  It gave him purpose, focus, and he never lost!  Perhaps the reason he slacked off most of the time in school was because the other students in the class didn’t offer him any competition.  Hmm….interesting concept, he thought as he pulled out his comic book and the secret one.  He leaned back in his seat and read through Sherlock Holmes, hiding the thick book behind the comic book pages.  He’d be damned if anyone else in the class knew the kinds of things he was reading.  His teacher, Ms. Novak, had suggested the detective mysteries to him yesterday during library time.  It wasn’t one of the normal library books.  Ms. Novak had brought him off to the side and handed him the book.  “This is a bit outside of our normal reading levels,” she said, “but I think you can handle it.”  She looked apprehensively at the librarian as if she might get in trouble for suggesting something so advanced to a fifth grader.  “If you have any problems with any of the words, just come talk to me after school.” That had been yesterday morning.  Dominic was now halfway through the book and was enthralled by the crime solver.  His eyes whipped across the pages, unaware that the other students were slowly finishing up their math tests and handing them in, pulling out their own books or passing notes to each other.  By the time the whole class was finished, Dominic had also finished the book.  He grumbled silently with frustration as he closed it up, then hid it in his threadbare backpack until the end of class. When everyone else filed out of the room for recess, Dominic took the book out and meandered at a more leisurely pace up to the teacher, the book hidden behind his back.  “Hi there, Dominic,” she said with an encouraging smile.  “You got a perfect score on the math test,” she said with a chuckle.   “But you probably were expecting that, weren’t you?” Dominic just shrugged a bit, blushing because Ms. Novak was always encouraging him to do better.  He liked that about her.  His other teachers tended to dismiss him as a screw up because of his ragged clothes or the fact that he missed school so often.  But Ms. Novak simply sent the work home with one of his neighbors on those days and Dominic taught himself the work from home while helping his dad through whatever bout of “hangover” had occurred from the previous night’s drinking.  “It was pretty easy,” he said. Dominic pulled the book around and laid it on her desk, pulling the other papers over it.  Just in case one of the other students came in, he didn’t want them seeing what he might be reading.  “Here’s your book back,” he mumbled.  “Thanks.” Ms. Novak looked at the large tome covered in test papers.   “Was it too tough for you?  I’m sorry, I thought you could…” “I finished it,” he said, shifting his feet on the dirty linoleum floor.   He couldn’t look her in the eye as he said, “I was just wondering if…” he shuffled his feet some more, “if maybe you might have…” he stumbled around slightly, trying desperately to get the words out.  Ms. Novak put a finger under his chin.  “Dominic, it’s okay if you weren’t able to read Sherlock Holmes.  It’s a very difficult book that is generally read by college students.” Dominic shook his head.  “I want more,” he finally was able to get out.  “I loved the book.  I thought maybe you had other books that might be just as interesting.” Ms. Novak stared at the boy, unable to believe that he’d read the entire Sherlock Holmes story in one night.  “Dominic, are you really trying to tell me that you read about four hundred pages in two days?” she asked, her eyes revealing her disbelief. Dominic understood that she didn’t believe him.  So he proved it to her, as he had to do on many other occasions.  People often doubted a lot of what he had to say or what he’d done.   He related details of the story, about the forensic evidence, the clues that the detective had sorted through, his relationship with Watson, even going on to tell Ms. Novak the point at which Dominic had figured out who had committed the crime.  During the whole recitation, Ms. Novak’s face changed from disbelieving to shocked, to amazed that he could even recall so many details.  When he was finished, she blinked several times in the silence.   “That’s quite…” her mind searched frantically for the right term and ended up saying, “stunning.”  In the next moment, she clapped her hands together and looked behind her.  “I apologize for doubting you.  And I have to also compliment you on your extraordinary reading skills.  You’re truly talented.  I’d like to get you tested if that’s…” “I can’t,” Dominic countered, shaking his head emphatically.  “No money.”  Again, he resorted to looking down at the floor, shifting his feet and killing the cockroach that was skittering across the floor.  He even took the time to carefully push the smooshed bug under the desk so Ms. Novak wouldn’t see it.  Dominic knew that his teacher would scream about the bug.  There were even days when she would stand on a pedestal when she’d seen too many of them in the day.  Dominic just shook his head on those days.   He knew from personal experience that cockroaches could climb up anything.  The filthy apartment he shared with his father was evidence of just how agile the disgusting things could be.  Ms. Novak looked at the young boy she suspected might have a genius IQ, frustrated that she couldn’t convince either her department head or her principal of the child’s exceptional capabilities.  “Well, that’s not really the point anyway, is it?” she reassured him.  She looked in her bag and pulled out another book, biting her lip as she considered if this student was ready to advance so quickly.  With a mental nod, she knew that, if she didn’t push him, he’d just languish.  Dominic Carson’s intelligence was one of those rare gifts.  She couldn’t let him teeter into boredom.  Besides, he seemed desperately thirsty for knowledge and, as a teacher, she reacted to that thirst.  “Since you were able to read Sherlock Holmes, this one might be a bit less of a challenge, but perhaps this book will compensate,” she said and handed him the story of Robin Hood.  “This was actually just a ballad that was passed on from person to person,” she explained as Dominic opened the cover, his eyes skimming the words.  “But many people have tried to create stories around the mythical person in Sherwood Forest.”  She took a deep breath and then pushed the other book forward.   “And here’s another idea.  You finish your math too quickly and I know you’re bored.  So I was wondering if you might do me a favor.”  Dominic looked up into her eyes as his dirty hands reverently opened the math book filled with words and symbols that he had no clue how to interpret.  “Here’s a math book for kids that are generally a bit older than you are.   Maybe you could take a stab at the problems in here and come back to me with ideas on how to teach this more effectively.  I’d like to be able to teach students how this kind of math could be used in real life.” With a racing, excited heart, he took both books and hid them inside his book bag, then headed out of the classroom to follow his classmates.  “Thanks,” he mumbled, embarrassed that his teacher was helping him to this extent but just about beside himself with the eagerness to discover whatever Ms. Novak had given him.  He prided himself on taking care of himself, not needing anyone.  But in this case, he didn’t mind.  At least not too much.  Maybe his dad would be drunk again tonight and wouldn’t know he was reading.  It was generally best if his dad came home from work, turned on the television and drowned his sorrows in the rotgut gin he bought on the way home from the factory on most days.  Dominic preferred a drunk father to a sober one.  His dad didn’t have good aim when he was drunk, so Dominic could avoid being backhanded more easily.  Dominic walked through the school playground, winking at Jenny Martin and Suzy Miller, remembering not to chuckle when they giggled at his attentions.  Girls didn’t like it when he chuckled, he reminded himself.  As soon as he turned the corner, he found his secret spot behind the brick wall.  He knew that the other teachers and principals suspected he was up to no good when he was hidden.  But Dominic didn’t really care what they thought.  The other kids thought the same thing and it helped keep them away.  The other kids worried that they’d be tainted with the same brush in the principal’s mind if they sniffed around at his hiding place, so it was better to maintain the bad reputation.  It kept him safe. A few snarls here, posturing as he walked home, and his oddly huge size were the three things he’d learned would keep the bad kids from bothering with him.  It also helped that they thought the bruises he sometimes showed up to school wearing were from afterschool fights.  Well, they sort of were, he thought as he slid his back down the brick wall while pulling the “new” books out of his backpack at the same time.  He also knew that the other kids suspected he had drugs or cigarettes in his backpack, which is why he always carried it around, keeping it close by.  All part of the aura, he told himself. He ignored the dirt under his fingernails as he looked at the two books, trying to decide which to open up first.  They both seemed intriguing.  In the end, he chose the math book, not even sure how to pronounce the title.  “Geometry,” he sounded out in a whisper.  He read through the instructions, his mind sifting through the details and working the math problems through in his head.   He could see the figures, worked through the logic and theorems, found himself fascinated by the processes.  He flipped through the pages quickly, going through each of the formulas as if he were drinking a glass of water at the end of a long, hot run.  He couldn’t get enough of the equations, new symbols, and the words that described them. When the recess bell rang, he slipped both of the books back into his backpack and started to work his way back to the playground.  “Hey buddy,” a voice behind him called out. Dominic turned, irritated that someone had found his secret place.  “What the hell do you want?” he demanded.  All the camaraderie he’d felt back in the classroom for these two boys who could do math as quickly as he could vanished.  They’d invaded his space and he came out fighting, defending his turf. The dark haired boy just stood there staring at him for a long moment.  “I’m Zayn and this is Angelo,” he said, his thumb pointing to the kid that had just come into the classroom right before recess.   “You got something from Ms. Novak.  We want in.” Dominic shoved his backpack further onto his back, his grip tightening on the strap.  “Get your own.  She only gives these things out to me.” Angelo stepped forward, extending his hand politely but without any expression on his dark features.  Dominic’s initial reaction was to slap it away, but something in the way the kid looked at him, not down at him or up at him, but the simple fact that the two were at eye level, gave him pause.  He looked behind the first one at the dark haired guy.  “What do you want?” The only reaction to Dominic’s hostility was a slight raising of a black eyebrow.  No other movement, no change in posture.  It was almost as if Angelo hadn’t moved, hadn’t heard the challenge in Dominic’s voice.  “What, can’t you speak?” Angelo stared at the other boy, not sure exactly what to say.  He was the new kid on the block and he’d never had many friends.  He didn’t need them.  So instead of answering, he simply stepped around the other two boys and walked away. Dominic watched, feeling bad all of a sudden.  He hadn’t meant for Angelo to give in so easily.  All three of them looked pretty scruffy, and he got the sense that the new kid really needed a friend.  So why had Dominic been so hostile?  With a sigh, Dominic pulled his eyes away from Angelo’s retreating back and knew that he wasn’t going to be able to ignore Zayn’s outstretched hand.  There was just something in Zayn’s features that struck him, as if they were kindred souls.   But Dominic knew that wasn’t the case.   This other boy had a mom.  Dominic’s mother had just up and left one day, leaving him and his dad to fend for themselves.  At least, that’s the story his father told him right before he took another swig of the gin and ignored Dominic. “I’m Dominic,” he finally said, shaking the other boy’s hands.  Dominic noticed that Zayn didn’t have dirt under his fingernails and his hands were relatively clean.  Maybe that’s what a mother did, he thought as the two of them eyed each other up and down.  Maybe their job was to make sure their son’s hands were clean.   He wouldn’t mind that too much, all things considered.  “So what did she give you?” Zayn asked, walking beside Dominic as they worked their way quickly back to the school yard.  Dominic shook his head.  “Ask her.” Back in the classroom, Dominic looked at both Angelo and Zayn, wondering about both of them.  He actually felt guilty about the way he’d treated Angelo, but wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it.   He’d never really had friends because the other kids in his class were so much smaller than he was.  Dominic didn’t understand it all, so he’d just found refuge in reading.  Which begged the question, why would these two guys want to hang out with him?  All three of them had dark hair and they were similar in build, but other than that, they probably didn’t have much in common.  Okay, so they all went to the same school and probably lived in the same neighborhood, or at least close to each other.  That was pretty much a given since all the kids in this school lived in the general area surrounding the school.   There were a couple of neighborhoods a few streets over that had nicer houses, but those parents insisted that their kids attend the elementary school in another area.  Apparently, those parents didn’t want their kids associating with Dominic’s neighborhood.  He didn’t mind not associating with the kids with money, he thought.  The classrooms were overcrowded already.  There were more than forty students in his home room class and Ms. Novak had trouble getting everyone to pay attention most days.   Adding a whole new neighborhood wouldn’t help anything. Even Dominic had to admit that the streets around here were pretty tough.  He’d figured out that most of the smaller kids avoided him and he avoided most of the bigger kids.  Thankfully, he was growing tall enough that there weren’t many kids larger than he was lately.  Turning to this new guy, he tentatively told Zayn what Ms. Novak had given him earlier today.  “She gave me a geometry book,” Dominic explained. He felt the other guy’s eyes straining, almost bulging out.   “What’s geometry,” Zayn asked, whispering as if it were something naughty.  Dominic couldn’t hide his excitement any longer.  He was too fascinated by the book and all he’d learned in the last hour.  “It’s how to calculate shapes basically,” he explained.  “But it goes into more detail, like….” And he started listing the different shapes, areas and perimeters, square footage and volume, and things he’d absorbed during recess.  The other students watched with growing horror as the two biggest students in the school walked back into the classroom, apparently oblivious to their concern.  It irked Suzy and Jenny, since they were also the cutest boys in the school.  Well, there was that new guy, they both realized at the same time.  He was still all alone. Dominic took his seat in the back of the classroom, feeling better all of a sudden about life in general.  And then his eyes slid to the new guy and that optimistic feeling plummeted again.  He felt guilty?  Since when did he ever feel guilty? Dominic was impatient for the final bell to ring.  He wanted out of school, feeling uncomfortable because of what he’d done to Angelo. Dominic continued to scan the other students barreling out of the school.  Some of them were heading home to do their homework, but most would just hang out with their older brothers or sisters along the street or in the park down on the corner.  Some might even have a job that would enable them to earn some extra cash for the family.  “He went out the back,” Zayn explained, suddenly standing next to Dominic.  Dominic did a double take at the other boy’s appearance.  “Where did you….?” He started to ask, then shook his head.  “Who went out the back?” he asked. Zayn’s head jerked backwards.  “Angelo.  He’s the other new guy that came into the classroom today.  He went out the back door of the school.” Dominic straightened away from the brick wall and pulled his backpack higher.  “I should be getting home.” “I live in the building next to yours,” Zayn explained.   “My mom and I moved in this past weekend and I saw you walking to school the past few days.” That relieved one of Dominic’s worries.   At least this other kid wouldn’t judge him for where he lived.   If they both lived in the same rundown neighborhood where the rats actually had the best part of the building, neither one had a very good life.  “What does your mother do?” he asked. “She cleans houses when she can,” Zayn said. “And your dad?” Dominic prompted. The other boy shrugged.  “He’s gone.” Dominic was silent for a long time.  “So’s my mom,” he finally said. The two boys walked down the sidewalk, their eyes automatically scanning the streets for trouble.  It wasn’t that they were professionally trained to survey the neighborhood for possible problems.  Not at ten years old.  It was just that, growing up in this neighborhood, one learned early on to be fully aware of one’s surroundings.  Trouble could spring up from the street or a doorway.  It never hurt to be hyper vigilant. As soon as they rounded the corner, Dominic’s fury just about exploded.  Surrounded by six teenage boys, all taller and meaner, was Angelo and he was standing by himself, obviously prepared to defend his right to walk down the sidewalk.  Dominic and Zayn both dropped their backpacks at the same moment, hurrying forward to rush the teenagers.  “What are you doing?” Dominic demanded with a furious growl, standing right behind the black haired boy he’d spurned just hours ago.  The teenage boys looked at the three younger kids, scoffing at their stand together, suddenly noticing how large the three of them were.  “What are you guys?  Freaks of nature?  What are you, fifteen?” Fortunately at that same moment, a police officer’s cruiser turned the corner.  The six teens slapped each other in the middle of their chest, moving off quickly.  As soon as the teens moved far enough away, the three boys relaxed their posture, taking a deep breath.  “Thanks,” Angelo said to the other two boys, picking up the threadbare pillow case that contained his books and homework.  Dominic eyed the kid, that horrible feeling returning.  “Sorry about earlier,” he commented, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.  Both he and Zayn fell into step with Angelo as they walked down the street towards their homes.  Angelo shook his head, dismissing the incident.  “No sweat,” the other boy replied.  The three of them walked off, shoulder to shoulder and all three felt different now, somehow connected in a way that hadn’t been there when they woke up earlier that morning.   Five Years Later.... Dominic whistled softly.  Briefly.  Keeping his back to the concrete wall, he watched a moment longer just to be sure.  He saw the slight movement which indicated that his whistle had been heard.  He then turned his head towards the other direction, watching.  Waiting.  When he saw the signal himself, he leapt forward and grabbed the box.  Angelo and Zayn were right behind him, but no one walking on the street would be able to see any of them.   It was a wellorchestrated process they’d done over and over again.  Theft was not a way of life.   It was a way of survival on these streets.   Over the years, the trio had worked out the kinks in their process, fine-tuned the route, and knew exactly where each other was at any given moment.   They had backup plans, contingency routes, escape methods and hideaways.  Ten minutes later, Dominic plunked his box down next to Angelo’s and Zayn’s pilfered box.  “What did we get?” he asked eagerly, taking the box cutter off of the makeshift shelf they’d constructed from dumped items.   The warehouse in which they’d set up their headquarters had been abandoned several decades ago by the owners and police.  Now it just smelled bad, but it was a perfect place for the three of them to meet, since only the rats dared to come through this building. Dominic opened the box and pulled out a bottle.   “What the hell is ‘Enfamil’?” he asked, looking at the label with growing horror.  Zayn took the bottle out of Dominic’s hand and read through the label himself.  “It’s baby food, you idiot,” he said and plunked the bottle back into the box. Dominic rolled his eyes.   “A whole night wasted for baby formula,” he groaned.  “What do you guys have?” he asked. They’d each stolen a box from the back of a truck of stolen boxes.   Mr. Zantini regularly had these early morning deliveries and, since there wasn’t an inventory of the truck’s contents, Mr. Zantini never knew that three or four of his boxes went missing each time.  Nor could the merchant report any thefts since the entire truck of merchandise had been stolen. Dominic unloaded the box, filling up the shelves with the other items they hadn’t yet disbursed.   There were tall shelves all around the abandoned warehouse forming long aisles.  There were stereos, receivers and other electrical equipment as well as music CDs and DVDs.  Those would all be sold for cash.  “Don’t forget that Mr. Miller needs money to pay for that broken leg.  His car insurance company didn’t pay for some of the hospital fees,” Zayn said as they unloaded their current loot.  There were also food aisles but they didn’t sell that.   No, food was too precious to sell.   And then there were the clothing and miscellaneous aisles.  Those weren’t sold either.  They weren’t as precious as the food, but all of it was desperately needed around the neighborhood. “Ms. Rosenberg’s daughter just had a baby,” Angelo commented and opened his own box.  It was filled with diapers.  Zayn’s box had peanut butter. “Get rid of that stuff,” Dominic stated emphatically as he turned his head away.  “I hate peanut butter.” Zayn laughed and smacked his friend on the back.  “Why?  Because it’s all you eat lately?” he scoffed.  Dominic punched Zayn on the arm, refusing to acknowledge the question.  “It stinks,” was all he said. Angelo watched as Dominic hefted the box onto his shoulders, looking worried.  He too lifted his box onto his shoulders, following Zayn and Dominic out the door.  On the way out, he grabbed a can of tuna fish from a stack on one of the shelves and slipped it into his back pocket.  The three moved silently down the street, knowing that they were carrying stolen goods and not wanting to be caught.  Dominic had been snared by a police officer once and it had been a terrifying ordeal.  For all three of them.  Zayn and Angelo had each come to the police station as soon as each heard.  Unfortunately, they came at different times and gave the arresting officer different alibies for where Dominic had been during the time of the theft.  So the police officer didn’t believe either of them.   The only way the charges were dropped was when several others in the neighborhood came to the police station and talked to the officer, relating various stories about the three boys.  Everyone knew Dominic, and none would allow the officer any peace until the boy was released.  Although that incident had ended well, being caught again with the stolen goods in their hands would be more of a challenge.   Moving as silently as possible, the three of them walked quickly to the building where the Rosenberg’s lived, easily disabling the lock on the building’s front door with a couple pieces of wire and then finding the correct apartment.  They placed the boxes in front of the door, and then rang the bell.  The three of them ran as quietly as possible to safety before the door was opened by a sleepy resident, most likely wielding a weapon of some kind.   Only a fool would open one’s door unarmed in the middle of the night in this neighborhood.  Once back out on the street and down the corner where they couldn’t be associated with the delivery, they joked back and forth about the week’s events.  Dominic teased Angelo about Jocelyn Myer’s interest in him.  Zayn related Jenny Mitchell’s tale of beating Dominic at the math quiz (as if that could really happen).  And the three reminisced  about Zayn’s mother’s meatloaf the other night.  They said it had been horrible, but both Dominic and Angelo asked when she might be making it again. At the next corner, the three of them parted ways to find their own beds.  It had been a good night and they slept easily, relieved that they could relax the following morning.  Dominic woke before his father the next day, running a hand through his emerging beard and the already bulging muscles on his chest and abdomen.  He wasn’t aware of the girls outside on the street who had been sitting there for the past two hours, just waiting to get a look at him as he walked by the windows.  Curtains were something that only Zayn’s household had.  It would never occur to Dominic or his father to cover the drafty windows with fabric.  Two men lived here, why would they?  And he didn’t hear their sighs of happiness as he guzzled a glass of the freshly mixed, powdered milk, grimacing at the lumps that hadn’t completely dissolved in the water.  With resignation, he opened one of two kitchen cabinets, prepared to endure yet another peanut butter sandwich.  It was all he and his father could afford right now.  He had a peanut butter sandwich morning, noon and night towards the end of the month because there was so little money left.  But as he stared, the heavenly manna sat on the shelf.  One, lone can of tuna!  He grabbed the can, looking behind him as if someone were going to snatch it out of his hand for some reason.  Which was ridiculous because his father was still snoring off his previous night’s inebriation.  With excitement, he opened the can and grabbed a fork, scrubbing the utensil before using it.  He regularly cleaned the household dishes, but it wasn’t unheard of for his father to use a dish or fork and simply put it back in the drawer, still dirty.  Ever since Dominic had met Zayn, or more specifically, Zayn’s mother, he had learned to clean.  He cleaned his fingernails and hands, his clothes were washed down at the Laundromat despite his father’s irritation at spending money on useless washing, and he cleaned the house.  It wasn’t as spotless as Zayn’s place, but it was better than it used to be.  It was always nice when they spirited a can of bug spray from one of their midnight “walks”.  It gave the apartment a few weeks of cockroach free living.  Sydney's Story.... Five year old Sydney stared at the man’s face.  She had no idea how old he was, but the skin around his eyes and mouth was wrinkled, like he needed to stretch it out more.  And he hunched over slightly.  Was he tired?  She couldn’t figure it out.  He sat in the pew to the right of her and looked so sad, so achingly desolate.  Had someone in his family died recently perhaps?  The minister said something else, but she didn’t hear the words.  Her eyes moved on to the woman in front of her and slightly to the left.  She wore earrings that at some point had been painted gold, but the color was now flaked off, making the jewelry appear cheap.  She held her head high though, rigidly so.  It was almost as if she had to hold her head up higher than the others so they wouldn’t know how heavy her steel earrings were.  That seemed a bit silly to her, but she loved watching people.  It was better when they were singing or talking.  She loved to hear their voices, to watch their eyes.  Just sitting here in church seemed like such a silly waste of time and no one talked except for the very loud man up in the front of the church.  The choir was pretty interesting.  They sat behind the minister and she loved watching their faces when they sang.  There was one lady who smiled all the time while singing, even when the words to the song were sad.  And there was another woman who closed her eyes during certain words. That seemed kind of silly to her, but she just loved it all anyway.  The men were harder to read, but even they had little expressions that she liked to watch.  One man was obviously in love with the woman in the front row of the choir but she didn’t know the man existed.  At least, that’s what Sydney saw.  She also knew that adults kept a lot of secrets so maybe the woman in the front of the choir new the man behind her was watching her.  And the two of them shouldn’t look at each other because one would reveal the secret. She sighed, then froze when her mother’s hand moved over hers.  She’d been fidgeting again.  It didn’t matter that she was bored out of her mind, her mother made her go to church.  Every Sunday, the same thing.  Just sitting here, listening to someone talk and watching the people.  She wondered if she would ever have the ability to hide her feelings, to sit so still for such long periods of time.  She doubted it.  She couldn’t think of a single reason to hide feelings from someone.  Like right now, all she wanted to do was go outside and play on the playground.  She could imagine herself flying through the air on the swing set, letting the breeze blow her hair all around her face, feeling the fear as she traveled backwards, then forwards again, pushing higher and higher.   There were times she just knew that, if she pushed the swing high enough, her toes could touch the clouds above her.  That, or she’d swing all the way over the top of the swing set.  That wouldn’t be fun, she thought with a new perspective on the activity.  Slides!   Now those were fun.   Unless Annie Maclevene was at the playground as well.   Annie was too slow and she went down inch by inch.  Sydney preferred to race from the top of the slide to the bottom as fast as possible.  She didn’t care that there wasn’t any grass at the bottom of the slide anymore.  Her bottom had lots of cushion, or so her momma said, so she’d just fall on her bottom and run back around to the ladder for her next turn down the slide.  Three days later, Sydney came home from school but there was something different in the atmosphere.  Something was wrong.  She looked at her father, who should be at work.  “Where’s momma?” Sydney asked. Donald Watson bent down and scooped up his daughter.  “I’m afraid she’s going to be gone for just a few days,” he said, trying to hide the sadness in his eyes but Sydney saw it anyway.  Sydney put her chubby hand against his whiskered cheek.  “Are you okay?” she asked, seeing the redness around his eyes.  “I’m fine, sweety.”  The doorbell rang and her father set her down on her feet.  She walked to the entryway, hiding behind one of the half-walls so she could see the person at the door but not let her father know she was spying.  Sydney had seen the woman at the church before.  She was carrying a casserole dish and Sydney wondered why.  The church woman had a sad expression on her face as well.  Why was everyone so upset? Sydney walked over to the sofa and curled up in the corner.  Several more people came, each with yet another casserole. And everyone was talking in whispers.  Sydney started to think that perhaps someone had died.  And since the only person who wasn’t here was her mother, the fear increased.  Sydney didn’t want her mother to have died! Her father picked her up and carried her to the kitchen.  Together, they sat at the table, both of them picking at the barely warm casserole in front of them.  “Where’s Momma?” Sydney asked again. Donald looked down at his little girl and tried to fight the tears once again.  “She’s at the hospital, honey.” “Why?” Sydney demanded.  As far as she was concerned, people only went to the hospital when they were sick.  “What’s wrong with her?” Her father hiccupped as he tried to restrain his emotions.  It wasn’t working.  “Your mother had a miscarriage, Sydney.  Do you know what that means?” Sydney wasn’t sure, but she suspected that it wasn’t good.  “Is she going to be okay?” she asked.  Her father nodded.  “Yes.  But she’s going to be pretty sad for a while.  We’re going to have to take care of her.  Can you help me with that?” he asked. Sydney nodded, feeling as if her world were breaking apart.   But as she watched her father’s silent tears run down his cheek and get lost in his beard, she knew that she had to help him somehow.  She wasn’t sure what she could do, but she’d help him through this.  He had to get through this, she thought with a deep, painful fear.  Over the next week, Sydney did everything she could to help her father cheer up.  Her mother came home but she looked sad and withdrawn.  Sydney looked up jokes on the internet, told her funny stories of things that had happened in school, cleaned up her room and even made the ultimate sacrifice.  She ate her broccoli!  Unfortunately, even that didn’t cheer up either of her parents.  By the end of that week, she was sick of casseroles in general and chicken divan in particular.  She wanted desperately to have things back the way they were before.  She still didn’t understand what a miscarriage was, or why it had made her parents sad, but she couldn’t make them laugh again.  So instead of trying, she simply curled up next to her mother each night, a book on both of their laps and read silently.  After a while, it seemed to help.  By the end of the second week, she was reading next to her mother and smiled when her mother’s fingers moved through her hair.  Just like she used to do.  By the end of that month, Sydney couldn’t eat any more broccoli and snuck it under the table to Muffin, the dog.  Of all the things that she’d tried, that seemed to do the trick.  Not because her mother or father saw her.  Muffin just hated broccoli as much as Sydney did.  Instead of eating the broccoli, Muffin had taken each of the offerings and hidden them away.  Unfortunately, Muffin hid them in the sofa!  When Sydney came home from school the following day, her mother was standing at the door waiting.  “Sydney Watson!” she snapped, her green eyes glaring down at her.   “Do you have an explanation for this?” her mother demanded, holding out her hand with the now-dried broccoli. Sydney couldn’t stop the grimace as she looked at the disgusting, no-longergreen broccoli.  “Muffin did it,” she said with complete honesty. Sydney’s mother stared down at her daughter for a long, silent moment.  There was a tension in the air as Sydney’s legs trembled in fear for what her mother might say next.   But when her mother burst out laughing, grabbing Sydney up into her arms, Sydney couldn’t hide the relief she felt.  It was the first time her mother had hugged her since she’d gone to the hospital.  Her mother laughed and laughed, hugging her close.   In the end, Sydney found herself sitting on the counter, eating forbidden cookies with her mother all afternoon and just talking. The Billionaire’s Pregnant Lover “Who the hell are you?” Sydney jumped and spun around at the harsh, deep voice. The tall, huge man behind her was more than terrifying. He was….well, she couldn’t quite put an adjective to the feelings that were running through her at the moment, but it caused her knees to tremble and her heart rate to spin out of control. She was eternally grateful that she was sitting down instead of standing, although that did put her at a severe height disadvantage. “I’m….uh…” She was so flustered, she wasn’t exactly sure how to explain her presence. It seemed that the man’s sudden appearance and his glaring, angry countenance had rendered her common sense to be absent at the moment. Dominic Carson rolled his eyes, ignoring the lovely woman’s pale cheeks and the fascinating sparkle in those green eyes. He was here to work and not gawk at some pretty face that decided to plunk down in his assistant’s chair. “Okay, so you’re confused. Just get out of this area quickly or I’ll call security.” He stood there glaring down at her and Sydney had a hard time maintaining her grip on the heavy files that she was holding. Placing them onto the elegant desk beside her, she stood and nervously smoothed down her skirt and jerked her suit jacket over the front of her, hoping it didn’t look as messy as she felt. “Actually, I’m your temporary assistant today,” she explained, clearing her throat when it sounded too mousy. This man didn’t look like he would respect mousy. As she surveyed his tall, immaculately dressed and overly muscular frame, she suspected that this man didn’t respect many people, mousy or not. That irritated her and she stood up straighter, unaware that her chin was jutting out with a jerk of defiance at his assumed authority. Dominic wanted to laugh. Her feigned boldness in the face of her barely concealed nervousness actually made her look cute. He didn’t tell her that, but his mind definitely shifted slightly with her adorable chin sticking out as if she were ready to take him on. He had to respect her spunk since not many dared to defy him. Regardless, he had work to do and didn’t have time to admire anything about this woman. She had to go. “You’re too young and inexperienced to handle this job. Go back to personnel and tell them to send me someone more experienced.” He started to walk away, determined to dismiss the woman. If he’d seen those beautiful, green eyes paired with those luscious, red lips in a bar or a restaurant, he’d definitely approach her. But she was the soft, lush kind of woman that he wanted in his bed. Not in his office. Sydney couldn’t believe the gall of this man! He’d walked in, sized her up and found her lacking after just one, arrogant glare? How ridiculous! And unfair! She stood up, visibly shaking, offended by his attitude but trying valiantly to be brave in the face of his withering glare. “I was originally assigned to someone down on the tenth floor today, but too many people are out sick with the flu. So when I arrived, your HR department ordered me to come up here and fill in for your assistant. Apparently, no one else is available to assist you today, experienced or otherwise. But since you seem fully capable of handling everything yourself, I’ll just take my leave. I’ll stop by your HR department on my way out and let them know that you don’t require any assistance today, and probably for the next several days since the flu isn’t a one day condition.” She turned on her barely presentable, obviously cheap shoe and pulled her worn out purse out of the drawer she’d stuck it into an hour ago. Sydney didn’t bother to even look at the man as she walked towards the exit. She was very proud of herself for maintaining her professionalism in the face of such outright rudeness but she also wanted to high-tail it out of this area. This man was a horrible human being! “Stop right there,” she heard him command. In the end, she stopped, but there was a long moment while she silently debated the issue. Her student loans piling up was the decision maker. And the fact that she had only peanut butter and bread until she got paid next week since she’d just emptied out her bank account to pay her final semester’s tuition. Being a grad student was expensive but this job paid extremely well. It would have taken her through the next month if she was careful. But if he was going to obnoxiously dismiss her, she was out of here. When he was standing over her once again, the trembling actually increased. She wanted to slap him, to say something that would bring him down a peg or two, but she could barely speak with him towering over her like this. Dominic looked down at her, noting her trembling but respecting the fact that she was confident enough to stand up to him. He wasn’t going to relent though. If she was an idiot, he’d kick her out of here without pause. “Can you type?” Sydney blinked, surprised by the unexpected, rude question. “Yes.” “And answer phones?” he snapped. She tried very hard not to roll her eyes. “Yes.” Another long moment of silence where she stood trembling, wishing she could just slap his face and tell him exactly where he could shove this job. “Don’t mess up my schedule,” he snapped, then turned around abruptly and headed into his office. “Judy has probably e-mailed a list of instructions and outstanding tasks to complete. Make sure you get as many of them finished as possible in the next hour.” Sydney resisted the urge to throw her purse at his back, relishing the idea of how surprised he’d be at the assault. Of course, he’d probably have her arrested, but as he disappeared behind the double doors at the other end of the room, she wondered if it might be worth it. Remember her loans, she told herself and took a deep, calming breath. This job paid three times the hourly rate as the other jobs she’d been doing lately. When they’d offered her the role, she hadn’t understood why they would pay so much. Now she grasped the problem. It wasn’t the work. In fact, she’d already finished all the action items on Judy’s list and was working on filing the contracts that had been left on the corner of the regular assistant’s desk. The only reason this job paid so much more than normal was because of that man and his horrible attitude! Storing her beaten up, faux-leather purse back in the drawer, she almost fell into her chair but quickly pulled herself forward. For a long moment, she just sat there, trying to calm herself, get her anger under control. She really disliked that man. She couldn’t ever remember instantly disliking someone as intensely as she felt towards him. She glanced at his nameplate. Dominic Carson. As a grad student working towards her degree in psychology, she’d read studies about both his work style and the meteoric growth of his company. He was a case study in work relationships, which was pretty ironic when she contemplated her first confrontation of the morning with the man. The reports of his business prowess, his charisma and persuasive abilities were obviously overstated, she thought with irritation. “I can do this,” she whispered to herself and turned to face the computer. Dominic glared at the files neatly typed up on his desk with growing irritation. How had the woman accomplished all of this already? Even Judy wasn’t this good. As he flipped through the files, his eyes speed reading the words, he didn’t even find a damn mistake. How was he supposed to get rid of her when she didn’t make any errors? His irritation over her presence grew ten-fold. She was a distraction, not an assistant! He couldn’t believe how quickly his body had reacted to her lush, feminine form as soon as he’d stepped off of the elevators a few moments ago. He’d never reacted that strongly to any female but her figure, encased in possibly the worst, ugliest and cheapest suit he’d ever seen in his life, was round in all the right places. Full and sumptuous and his hands actually ached to explore her curves. She wasn’t fat, but nor could she be considered skinny either. She was just… delectable. Mentally, he groaned and admonished himself to get a grip. He had a busy day today with the final negotiations for a multi-billion dollar acquisition. He couldn’t be distracted. Unfortunately, even her enchanting facial features had struck him deeply. He’d wanted to touch her, reach out and feel her soft, peachlike skin. When she’d glared at him with those green eyes, he’d actually wanted to laugh at her courage. Applaud her even! And her hair! Whatever punishment she was enduring by wearing that suit, her hair was the opposite. It was soft and full, small tendrils coming out of the clip behind her head which curled around her lovely features. The rest of that thick, dark brown hair fell like a cascade down her back and he wanted to run his hands through the tresses, to feel it flow through his fingers. He sighed and re-focused on work. The contracts were to be signed today and he had no business thinking about the woman’s hair, curly or otherwise. Why was her hair so soft and beautiful while her suit was about two sizes too large and made of the worst, synthetic crap he’d ever seen in his life? The two parts simply didn’t match. He’d never met anyone with as much daring in the face of his wrath before and he couldn’t help but be impressed. Damn, he wanted her! Never had he been instantly attracted to any woman before. From the time he’d made his first billion ten years ago, women had been throwing themselves at him. At times it was merely a nuisance and other times his security team actually had to block their advances. And now he was going to be tortured for who knew how many hours by a woman he could easily spend the rest of the day in bed exploring and discovering all her secrets. His computer pinged indicating that he had a message. And damn if she hadn’t done it exactly right the first time. The woman sitting out at Judy’s desk must be pretty smart if she’d already figured out the message system. Judy constantly grumbled about its quirks and weaknesses. He pressed the message, already guessing what it was. Sure enough, his first appointment had arrived and was waiting out in her area. He took another moment to skim through his other messages. One in particular he needed to read. From his human resources director, he found out that Ms. Sydney Watson was a graduate student at NYU who had excellent qualifications although not as much experience. Due to the flu virus that was knocking out people left and right, there were limited resources from which they could pull people to assist. Sydney. He tested the name out in his mind and thought that it suited her perfectly. A bit spicy, still elegant despite her atrocious suit. The suit was probably due to her student status though and not just to bad taste or an innate thriftiness. A graduate student, huh? He liked that about her. Ambitious, smart… probably an overachiever. The next few days suddenly didn’t seem so grim, he thought as he walked out to greet Jim McMahan, his first appointment. Normally, Judy would send his appointments to him but he decided to switch things around a bit while Ms. Sydney Watson was here. Sydney smiled to the older gentleman as she handed him a cup of coffee. “Is there anything else I can get you while you wait, Mr. McMahan?” she asked, her eyes smiling in reaction to the twinkle in the older man’s eyes. He’d arrived a few minutes early to His Highness’ meeting time and they’d been chatting while she fixed him a cup of coffee. He was a very jovial sort of gentleman who was telling her stories about his grandchildren’s latest exploits. “Jim,” the deep voice snapped behind her and Sydney stood up quickly, trying to hide the spark of anger that instantly flared up inside of her. Why was he even out here? Judy’s instructions were very clear. Mr. Carson would respond to the appointment message when he was ready for his visitors to come into his office. Nowhere in the instructions did Judy say that Mr. Grouchy Bear would come out and greet his guests. He was supposed to be in his cave, figuring out who was going to be shredded next with his claws. The two men disappeared into the inner office and Sydney breathed a sigh of relief now that she was once again away from His Highness. She pulled out Judy’s instructions and read through them once again. She would not make a mistake this week! She would not give His Highness any reason to get rid of her. But if she discovered that he was just too obnoxious, she wouldn’t hesitate to simply walk out of here. He needed cause to get rid of her. She just needed to call into her temp agency and tell them she wouldn’t work for the man any longer. They’d probably understand. Even applaud her! Sydney worked harder that day and over the next three days than she ever had in her life! She couldn’t believe how much the man worked. And even when he wasn’t working he went to social events, making contacts and sending her instructions through e-mail, while he was socializing! He made business deals at midnight and expected the issues to be summarized and typed up by the time he walked into the office at seven o’clock the next morning. Sydney wanted badly to tell him to stuff his job, but she also couldn’t deny the excitement she felt as she worked throughout the day, trying desperately hard to keep up with the man. He didn’t make any more snide comments, but when she wasn’t as fast as he wanted her to be, she definitely knew it. There was just something in his eyes when she responded to him that told her everything she needed to know. By early Friday afternoon, she was exhausted, but still thrilled that she’d been able to keep up with the man. She wasn’t positive, but Sydney didn’t think she’d made any horrible mistakes. At least nothing he could taunt her with. In that, she considered the week a huge success. Just a few more hours, she told herself, and she’d be free of this evil, insensitive, annoying and arrogant jerk. “Come with me, Ms. Watson,” he snapped, walking by her desk just as she was about to pull out her peanut butter sandwich. She was starving and wanted nothing more than to ignore his summons. But she folded the wax paper back over her sandwich and followed him, carrying her notebook and pen because he shot orders at her so quickly she couldn’t remember all of his instructions unless she was writing them down. In the elevator, she looked up at him, not sure what was going on. “What is next on the agenda?” she asked. She suspected that she should probably tack on a ‘sir’ after that question, to show some respect, but she just couldn’t do it. This man didn’t deserve her respect since he didn’t give any. “I don’t remember any meeting on your calendar.” She replied stiffly, keeping to the opposite side of the elevator from him. She hated feeling so short next to him so if she stood farther away, it didn’t feel like he was towering over her so much. Besides, his broad shoulders tended to take up more space than she thought he should be allowed. He didn’t bother to look at her as he responded. “Lunch. If I have to watch you eat another pathetic peanut butter sandwich, I might just have to throw it out the window.” He exited the elevator and walked out of the building, just assuming she would follow. Sydney glared at his back with growing impatience. Who was he to judge her lunch menu? And how dare he simply command her to follow him? Well, to be technically honest, he didn’t command. He just assumed she would follow him. She debated it long and hard. He was already out of the building when she stepped off of the elevator, ignoring the crowd of people waiting impatiently to get on. She should just turn around and get right back on, eat her sandwich and ignore him. When he stopped at the curb and turned around to wait for her, she couldn’t see from this distance, but she could definitely feel him raise that dark, impatient eyebrow in her direction. With anger spurring her on, she stormed out of the building to confront him. Gracious, she commanded to herself silently. Be gracious and professional. When she was standing in front of him at the curb, she folded her hands in front of her, her notebook and pen gripped in her hand so she didn’t reach out and poke him angrily. “Thank you so much for the generous offer,” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm since he hadn’t offered anything at all. “But I must decline your kind-hearted lunch invitation.” She was just about to turn around when he stopped her. “Get into the car, Ms. Watson.” His voice was firm, filled with authority that just further increased her anger. She was just about to argue with him again when he leaned forward and said, “If you don’t get into the car this moment, I guarantee that I will order an entire buffet of food to be delivered to your office and will stand there and watch you eat it. So if you don’t want to deal with the enormous amount of food I will have delivered so you don’t eat that wretched sandwich, I suggest you get into the car and order something off of the menu at the very nice restaurant I am taking you to.” Sydney didn’t doubt that he would do exactly that. When her stomach grumbled in hunger, she had to grit her teeth at his raised eyebrows. Ducking into the back of the limousine, she slid as far away from him as possible, not wanting to catch that spicy, male scent of his, or even risk a possible touch by his arm. The limousine was large, but he was an enormous man with bulging muscles on his shoulders and biceps, not to mention those incredibly long legs of his. A flash of the man naked whipped through her mind and she blushed at the idea. Thankfully the back of the car was dark so he probably didn’t notice her pink cheeks but she pushed the image aside, forcing her mind to go over all the things she still needed to get done today so she could finish at a relatively early hour. It was Friday, after all! This evening, she was looking forward to meeting her friends at the bar down the street from her apartment, to tell them all about her horrible week and the many frustrations that had been heaped upon her by this obnoxious man. A pitcher of beer, some cheap, greasy food, the laughter and commiseration from her friends and this whole week could be put back into perspective. They drove to the restaurant in silence, Sydney trying very hard to keep her mind from picturing him without the elegant suit covering his muscular physique. She had no clue what he was thinking. But that was generally the case. Unless he was showing impatience or irritation, there weren’t any emotions on His Highness’ face. She thought she might have seen a flash of amusement a time or two over the week in his eyes. But since the man didn’t have a sense of humor, she was sure she’d been mistaken. The restaurant his driver pulled up next to was one of those exclusive places that no one could get into unless they booked a table a year in advance. But His Highness walked in and Sydney almost stomped her foot in disgust when people actually moved out of the way for him. The hostess obviously recognized him, gushing over his presence. There were others waiting for a table already, but the blond bimbo hostess completely ignored them and led His Highness to one of the best tables. Sydney sat in the opposite chair and smiled graciously at the waiter who pushed her chair in and snapped her napkin out, laying it across her lap. She thought it seemed a bit overdone, but she wasn’t a regular patron of these kinds of establishments so she wasn’t sure what the protocol was. “That will be all,” Dominic snapped at the waiter with visible irritation. He couldn’t control the sharp stab of jealousy towards the waiter when Sydney smiled her thanks. She was stunningly gorgeous all the time, but her smile softened her features, transforming her face into a gut-wrenching beauty that made all of his possessive instincts jerk to attention. He also suspected that the waiter was purposely standing behind her in order to get a look down Sydney’s tacky, polyester blouse. It was poorly made so it didn’t lay properly on her shoulders. He was relatively sure that she had no idea that she was offering titillating views of those full, soft-looking breasts to whoever was behind or beside her. He knew simply because he’d been the recipient of those glimpses. And he certainly didn’t appreciate the waiter doing what he wanted to do. Sydney’s smile faded when she turned back to the man sitting across from her. She didn’t want to look at him so she let her eyes wander around the restaurant. “You didn’t need to take me out to lunch. My sandwich was perfectly healthy but this is very nice,” she said, noticing with fascination that the mayor of the city was sitting at a table down below them in the main area. There was even a famous actress in one corner. “Everyone here seems to be very well dressed,” she said, her hand moving up to self-consciously touch her brown suit that she’d found at a consignment shop last year. It had probably been made over forty years ago, but the material was still good and it fit her. Well, it fit her well enough. And the price had been only ten dollars. That definitely fit her extremely tight budget. When he didn’t respond in any way, she turned back to him, her eyes nervously lifting to see what he was doing. When she found him staring right back at her, obviously patiently waiting for her to look at him, she felt as if her whole body started to flame up with a reaction she didn’t completely understand. Her heart was suddenly racing, her face felt flushed and the muscles in her stomach tightened. She sat up straighter, trying to hide her reaction. This just felt….wrong! “That’s better,” he said and leaned forward, taking his own napkin and laying it over his lap. He signaled to the wine steward who appeared by his elbow immediately. “Bring us the 2010 Louis Jadot Montrachet.” He didn’t ask and the waiter didn’t hesitate. Apparently, His Highness didn’t need to request anything. His commands were followed by one and all. She tried to suppress her resentment, but she had trouble getting a sub sandwich at the local market and yet he could order a stupid bottle of wine just by raising his little finger. “You look irritated. Do you not like white wine?” She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Wine would be lovely, although I might just fall asleep this afternoon. I’ll blame it on you because a sandwich doesn’t have the same effect.” She sat up in her chair, calmly placing her hands on her lap and decided to pretend that all of this elegance was commonplace for her. She had been intimidated by the man all week, she refused to be intimidated by a mere restaurant. He chuckled, amazed that she would dare to be so impertinent. “I’ll accept the consequences of our lunch time fare,” he came back. “So you’re a graduate student. What are you studying?” He ignored the waiter when he came back with the wine. He absently took a sip, approving of the vintage immediately. The man came around to her side of the table and poured her a glass of the wine, then left after placing the bottle in a bucket of ice. “I’m studying psychology,” she replied, not even wanting to reveal that much to this man. She didn’t want him to know anything about her. Once Judy was back, she prayed she would never run into him again. Sydney was surprised by how sad that idea suddenly made her. Why would she be desolate that she’d be free of his tyrannical presence? “What did you study in college?” she asked, switching the focus back to him. “Business, of course. Haven’t you read up about me?” “Only your business practices actually.” She shook her head and took a sip of the wine. But instead of giving him a set down for assuming she would be researching him, she was shocked at the explosion of tastes in her mouth. “Wow!” she exclaimed, louder than she had meant to be. She glanced around, relieved that no one had noticed her outburst. “This is incredible wine!” she almost whispered. Dominic chuckled. “I’m glad there’s something about me that you finally approve of.” She ignored his gibe and took another sip, still stunned by the crispness and surprising flavor. “This is really excellent,” she said again, putting the glass down so she wouldn’t drink it all at once. “Le Montrechet makes and excellent wine,” he replied. “Tell me about your studies.” She wrestled with her temper once again. He hadn’t asked. Once again, he simply commanded. She shrugged and tried to avoid answering him. “There isn’t much to tell. Psychology isn’t really an interesting subject.” “It must have some sort of allure for you to have studied it for so long. What interested you in the discipline initially?” Sydney was relieved when the waiter arrived, prepared to take their order. She barely heard any of the specials he discussed, but opened her menu one more time. There weren’t any prices on the menu options which meant that all of them were extremely expensive. She couldn’t even guess at how much a dinner in this restaurant might cost so she selected a salad, assuming it would be the cheapest thing on the menu. “I’ll have the chef’s salad,” she said when the waiter looked in her direction. The waiter didn’t blink an eye but simply turned to Dominic, waiting for his selection. Dominic’s eyebrows drew together with irritation. “She’ll start with the zuppa Toscana, then the Sicilian style tuna steaks. I’ll have the brood di pesce and the seafood risotto. We’ll have the dessert menu when we’re finished.” The waiter immediately crossed off her salad choice and wrote down whatever His Highness had ordered for her. She clasped her hands together under the table to keep herself from throwing her napkin at him. “So I’m not allowed to have a salad?” she inquired with false politeness. “No.” He didn’t explain any further. “You were going to tell me why you chose psychology.” She leaned back in the tapestry covered chair and looked across at him. “No. I wasn’t.” He was so surprised he had to laugh at her belligerent expression. “Why not?” he asked when his amusement had abated. “Because you are…” she debated which adjectives to use and toned down her initial choices. “Commanding. And it just creates a stubbornness within me that I have been trying to suppress all week, but since you’ve taken my lunch break away from me, ridiculed my sandwich, ignored my new choice for lunch, it just irritates me. So no, I’m not going to tell you anything else about myself simply because you ordered me to instead of asking me with kindness and interest.” He smiled throughout her whole tirade, enjoying the sparkle in her fiery green eyes. Oh how he wanted to kiss her and see if he could shift that anger to passion. He suspected that they could light the sheets on fire between the two of them. “Fair enough.” He leaned forward, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that caused that tightening in her belly once again. And a tightening lower, in a more embarrassing place. With what she could only describe as a charming smile, he said, “Sydney, I’m fascinated by you and was wondering if you would mind telling me a bit about your study choices. I would be interested to hear why you chose psychology out of all the possible degree choices.” Sydney could not believe he’d just said that to her. She took a huge sip of wine and place it down on the table. When that didn’t have the cooling effect she needed, she picked up her glass of ice water and drank nearly half the glass before setting it down as well. When she looked back up at him, he was still waiting patiently, a look of polite interest on his suddenly handsome features but a fire in his eyes that she didn’t completely understand. “Um…” Well when he put it that way, she couldn’t really refuse him! Irritating man! “I chose psychology because I’m fascinated by human behaviors. I enjoy trying to find out the underlying reasons why people act in a certain way and try to help them behave in a more positive, life-affirming manner.” Up went his supercilious eyebrows again. “You don’t think people should just work through problems, push their feelings aside to get the job done?” And…he was back! This time though, she couldn’t ignore his cynicism. “That kind of a response comes from a very cold, very suspicious and unfeeling human being.” She didn’t tell him that he was that way, just that it was a typical response from someone like that. He got the message. “Are you implying that I’m cold and unfeeling?” he suggested. Diplomacy, she admonished herself mentally. She had to be diplomatic about her response. She could not tell him that she thought he was a patronizing, contemptuous jerk. “I’m saying that you have a very harsh way of dealing with the world that might not be appropriate for every person.” That comment segued into other social issues and Sydney refused to give in to his rough opinion about the world and how it should run. They argued back and forth about many problems in the world and she sat up in her chair, eager and more than ready to take him on after several days of enduring his patronizing and irritating attitude. Perhaps it was the wine giving her extra courage, but she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, prepared for battle. She preferred to think that there were people in the world that were kind and generous. He believed that everyone should fight for whatever they wanted or needed and if someone got hurt in the process, they should just pick themselves up and dust off the dirt before moving forward. As she argued with him, she countered every one of his arguments with one of her own, adding in both statistical and anecdotal evidence to defend her position. She was surprised when he was able to counter with statistics of his own, but neither of them were swayed to the other’s opinion. She wasn’t aware of the food arriving, but she knew that it was excellent. She didn’t notice when he continued to refill her wine glass or even that they’d been arguing back and forth in the restaurant for more than two hours. All she knew was that she felt exhilarated while arguing with him about all the subjects he brought up, defending her position with a passion she hadn’t known existed within her. It was just his irritating demeanor that made her more vehement, she told herself. She couldn’t let him get away with putting down the less fortunate or less ambitious. She was feeling relaxed and powerful when she glanced at her dollar store watch. “No!” she gasped. “What’s wrong?” Dominic demanded, his eyes sharpening on her lovely features. She looked up at him with an appalled expression. “You have an important meeting in ten minutes.” “Cancel it,” he replied back as if the meeting wasn’t very crucial. In his mind, nothing was more imperative that figuring out how to get this woman into his bed so he could make love to her for the rest of the afternoon. He was so turned on simply by arguing with her that he didn’t care what the meeting was about, as long as he could get her into his bed and explore her body just as he’d been exploring her mind. The more he argued with her, the more fascinating she became in his opinion. “You can’t!” she admonished, placing her napkin beside her plate on the table and looking around for the waiter. “The very kind gentleman you’re supposed to meet with this afternoon called yesterday and again this morning to make sure that he still had time with you this afternoon. He’s been trying to get in to see you for months. You can’t push him off again.” Dominic signaled to the waiter who immediately appeared by his elbow but he was amused by her forcefulness. “I can’t?” She was already picking up her purse but keeping it under the linen covered tablecloth, embarrassed by the poor quality and obvious cheapness. “Absolutely not. He’s a very nice man with a decent proposal for you.” “How do you know it’s a decent proposal?” he handed the waiter his credit card, not even bothering to look at the total on the bill. The man had her there. She actually had no idea if this stranger’s idea was even viable but it had sounded great over the phone. “Because I heard what he wants to do and why he needs you to finance the endeavor. It sounds very promising and I think you should listen to him.” She was busy trying to find her notebook and pen which had somehow fallen onto the floor between them. The waiter returned quickly with the bill and Dominic signed the check before he tossed the pen back on the leather holder. When he was done, Sydney pushed her chair away and stood up, waiting pointedly for him to follow. Dominic was amazed that he was actually going to head back to the office and listen to some pointless business idea when his whole mind was focused around finding out what would make her scream out with pleasure. With a sigh, he too stood up, but he got much closer to her than he had earlier today. He looked down into her expressive, green eyes, his own golden ones not allowing her to look away. “You owe me then,” he said with a soft, threatening voice. Sydney stood there while he started walking down the stairs, the shaking back in full force. She wasn’t sure what she owed him, but from the look in his eyes, it would be…decadent. She rushed to catch up to him, embarrassed as she looked around and realized that there were very few patrons left in the restaurant. The busy crowd had dispersed and the harried wait staff were diligently trying to clean up and prepare for the dinner crowd. The Sheik’s Rediscovered Lover - An Introduction Zayn's Story... Zayn’s eye caught the movement to the left and he turned all of his attention in that direction.  “What’s going on?” Dominic asked behind him, both he and Angelo stilled as they waited to hear what Zayn had seen. “Julia Miller,” Zayn growled back, seeing the smug eight year old with braids walk down the street with a brazenness that just irritated Zayn.   A moment later, the skinnier and much shorter Ella came running down the street as well, but Ella was stealthier about her trip home from school.  Zayn’s eyes narrowed as he watched Ella’s demeanor, becoming angrier for the frightened girl.  She didn’t come barreling down the street, laughing with her friends like so many of the other kids.  No, she was racing from block to block, hiding in doorways, behind buildings or trash cans…basically trying to be as invisible as possible so that Julia Miller wouldn’t see her.  Zayn knew that Ella was afraid of the Miller girl and her friends and he decided in that moment that he was going to eliminate the problem.  Even as he watched, Julia stopped, grabbing onto her friends’ arms so they also halted.  Julia’s smile changed from one of amusement to malicious intent.  “Come on,” Zayn heard the bigger girl command and her friends followed, watching to see what was going on.  Julia stood still, looking directly at Ella’s latest hiding place.  Zayn thought about teaching Ella to stand up for herself, but at the moment, he needed to do something to stop Julia.  The bigger girl was one of those mean, bully type kids who tried to hurt people just for amusement.  Zayn wasn’t afraid of a fight if it was for a good cause.  He would fight and punch and scrape, in fact, he was one of the best in the neighborhood.  At seventeen, he could take on just about anyone and come out the winner.  He was feared in the neighborhood because people knew that he wasn’t afraid to take on anyone.  “Come on out, Ella!” Julia snarled, her chubby body protruding over her cheap shorts, the too-small, filthy shirt unable to fully cover that stomach.  “I know you’re there!  It’s time you learned to just take it.” The other two girls held back, obviously uncomfortable with Julia’s actions but also unwilling to step up and stop Julia.  As far as Zayn was concerned, they were just as guilty.  Not standing up to bullies was broadcasting permission for the bully to continue.  He understood that Julia would simply turn on them and start beating them up, but if the three of them helped each other, they stood a pretty good chance of winning.  Julia was just bigger but she didn’t really know how to fight.  Zayn knew and he wasn’t afraid to step up and help the little Ella.  He didn’t confront Julia though.  Ignoring Dominic and Angelo who were also on high alert, he sprinted around through the back alleys, leaping over rotting food and stinking garbage until he came to Ella’s hiding place.  “I’ll walk with you,” Zayn said a moment before she stepped out into the open.  He took the skinny child’s hand in his, giving her comfort as well as a small bit of courage.  “Come on.  Let’s show Julia that she doesn’t scare us,” he said gently.  Ella looked up into the tall boy’s eyes, her heart racing frantically.  “She’s pretty mean,” Ella whispered.  But her heart soared with his presence because this was Zayn Sarkis!  And if Zayn was around…she peeked over the trash can and sure enough, Dominic and Angelo were standing right behind Julia Miller and her two friends, looking huge and terrifying.  Zayn shook his head, trying to give the girl some courage.  “I’m meaner,” he came back.  “And I’ll teach you to be mean as well.” Ella giggled at the idea.  She was too pathetic looking to appear mean to anyone, but she put her hand in his and stood up, no longer afraid of her nemesis.  She now had a bigger bully on her side than Julia could ever find because no one was bigger than Zayn Sarkis.  Okay, well perhaps the dark and mysterious Angelo Donati was bigger.  He was definitely meaner as well.  As she peered over the top of the trash can, she smiled because Angelo, and even the equally tall, astoundingly handsome and terrifyingly fearsome Dominic Carson, appeared to be on her side as well.  With these three here now…she could walk home without fear!  How exciting!  “Good girl,” Zayn said as he watched the tiny Ella swallow her fears and they both stood up.  As soon as they did, Julia’s eyes widened and her bully stance changed to caution.  “Zayn?  What are you doing here?” she asked. Zayn ignored the girl and continued walking.  “How was school today?” Zayn asked Ella, pretending like Julia didn’t even exist.  And when he walked by the other two girls, he glared at them, emanating anger until those two bowed their heads in shame as well.  It was a mostly quiet walk home with Zayn asking the little girl questions and her answering in one or two word responses, but by the time they arrived at her apartment building, she was at least smiling and he could see her shoulders were a bit more relaxed.  “Thank you,” she whispered, shyly looking up at him. “You’re very welcome.”  Zayn watched as the girl went into her apartment building, wondering if she and her mother had enough food.  Ella looked too thin for her age, but he wasn’t sure how much an eight or nine year old should weigh.  He felt Dominic and Angelo come up on either side of them.  “They need a bag,” Angelo said. Dominic nodded his head.  “Her mother lost one of the houses she cleans in Manhattan last week so they’re short on cash lately.” That made sense, Zayn thought.   The mother was pretty and could be making a lot more money if she were to use her looks to earn her living.  But she obviously refused to take that dangerous career path, preferring to work at a hard, tedious job in order to be home when her daughter came in from school.  “Anyone ever find out what happened to the father?” Zayn asked, suddenly curious about the family.  It wasn’t ever a malicious curiosity.  The three of them just looked out for this neighborhood, trying to even out the odds of survival a bit more.  Any information that would help with that effort was data and not gossip. “Never heard the story,” Dominic replied.  Angelo shook his head as well. One Year Later... Zayn slipped out from the secret warehouse, looking around with his peripheral vision to ensure that his appearance hadn’t been noted by anyone suspicious.  Dominic and Angelo had already left the warehouse, making various deliveries to several of the people in the neighborhood.  All of the donations had been pilfered during late night or early morning adventures.  There were plenty of not-so-legal trucks that delivered to this area, and often one or several of the boxes off of those trucks went missing during off-loading, courtesy of Zayn, Dominic and Angelo.  The three of them considered themselves the Robin Hoods of the area, wanting to even out the odds a bit for the residents who struggled daily to make ends meet.  It was three o’clock in the morning and Zayn was feeling pretty good about life in general.  Six years ago, he had found a book on investing in the library.  Just today, his investment portfolio had topped over one million dollars in assets and that wasn’t counting the apartment building he was working to finance.  He had plans to fix the building, make it more habitable and safer for the residents.  If his plans worked out, he wouldn’t even need to raise the rent.  It would be more of a tax write off than an asset, but it made him feel extremely good to be in a position to help those residents.  He calculated that, within five more years, he would own the entire neighborhood and he could really turn things around.  He would be a silent landlord though.  He enjoyed living among these people too much to move out.  He didn’t need a luxurious apartment.  He just needed to know that the people he’d grown up with were safe and healthy.  Maybe he could get a scholarship fund going to help kids attend college.  That was a new thought.  Immediately, his mind came up with the image of Ella and her bright, smiling face, eager to see him after school each day and tell him about what she’d learned.  The girl was bright, excited about school and eager to gain knowledge.  It would be a shame if she got trapped in the same life as her mother, cleaning other people’s houses for a living, her hands cracking from the chemicals and the backbreaking work.  The two black cars parked near the end of the street caught his eye.  His step didn’t falter in any way, but he was instantly alert, his ears and eyes scanning for any sound or movement that would give him a clue as to who owned those vehicles.  They might be black, but they were shiny and expensive so they stood out in the darkness like a flashing, neon sign.  When it happened, Zayn didn’t hear anything.  In fact, he had gotten far enough away from the vehicles to start to lower his guard.  The attack came out of nowhere, silent feet approaching from an unknown direction.  One moment he was walking down the street, the next moment, a black hood was thrown over his head, his arms tied behind his back and his feet immobilized with some sort of tie as well.  He tossed and turned, trying to shake off his attackers but they were stronger than he was.  He was placed into a large van and the metal door slammed shut.  He froze, his mind trying to listen for any clues as to what was happening.  There wasn’t even a split second between the closing of the door and the engine roaring, the vehicle speeding down the street.  Turn after turn, the vehicle drove through the early morning streets of New York City.  Zayn tried to keep count of the number of turns to try and figure out where he was being taken, but after an hour, there were too many to remember.  He couldn’t keep up.  Just as suddenly as the van started, it came to a complete stop.  The doors were once again opened and his arms and legs were picked up.  Since he’d never been near an airport, he didn’t recognize the high-pitched whine of the private jet.  The smell was unfamiliar to him as well, so he wasn’t able to identify the metallic scent of jet fuel and toxic exhaust as planes took off and landed at the insanely busy JFK Airport.  Was it his imagination, or were his kidnappers trying not to hurt him?  He kicked and thrashed his legs as hard as possible.  He knew he was hitting his targets because he heard the grunts, felt more arms grab his legs and upper body.  There was an odd sensation, as if he were being carried up a flight of stairs, and then he was almost gently placed into a soft chair.  After that, there was only silence.  A door behind him closed. A soft, female voice spoke in front of him. “If you will be still, Your Highness, I will release your arms and legs.” Zayn had no idea who the pretty voice was talking to, but he stilled, trying to hear anything that would help him get free.  Suddenly, cold metal touched the skin on his hands and they were free.  Another moment later, his ankles were freed as well.   The black hood was carefully taken off of his head and he blinked at the subdued lighting. Looking around, the first thing he noticed was that he was in some sort of luxurious office space with large, leather chairs positioned around shining, wood tables.  And then he noticed the man sitting in front of him, watching him.  Zayn was startled by the image.  It was like he was looking at an older version of himself.   The black hair, the dark eyes…the chiseled jaw and hard, angry demeanor.  It was shocking.  “Who the hell are you?” Zayn demanded, furious for some reason.  He felt like standing up and smashing the man’s face, but he couldn’t do that.  It would almost be like smashing in his own image, they were so similar.  “Don’t you know?” the man asked, a small smile playing across his hard mouth and one of his dark eyebrows went up.  Zayn wondered if that was what he looked like, recognizing the affectation since he’d done it exactly like that on several occasions.  He suddenly realized how arrogant it appeared.  “I have no idea who you are,” Zayn replied with cold, hard determination.  Was this some sort of alternate universe?  Was he dreaming and this was actually himself but in thirty years? “Of course you know who I am,” the older version replied, shifting slightly in his chair.  “Or you will once your mind figures it out.  I’ve been told you are exceptionally intelligent.” Zayn sat back in the chair, unaware that he was mimicking the older man.  A lovely woman in a dark, blue uniform and perfectly coifed hair appeared at his side, placing a cup of coffee in front of him and another in front of the older man.  “Thank you, Alicia,” the older version replied and picked up his cup, taking a sip.  The look over the rim of the cup was almost daring Zayn to drink his own coffee but Zayn didn’t take up the challenge.   Adrenaline was still pumping through his body and he didn’t need any additional stimulant.  Suddenly, the high-pitched whine he was hearing increased and the office space moved.  Zayn grabbed the arms of the chair, looking around to try and figure out what was happening.  “You’ll need to buckle your seatbelt, Zayn,” the older man said, doing the same himself.  Zayn didn’t bother with his seatbelt.  Instead, he looked around, seeing the lights moving outside the small window to his right.  “What the hell is going on?” Even as he asked the question, the lights outside the window moved more quickly, almost a blur of light.  And suddenly, there was a lurch.  Zany sat up, his heart thudding inside his chest and he ground his teeth as the fear of the unknown threatened to choke him.  “Tell me what’s going on!” he demanded, his voice low and threatening. “We’re taking off,” the older man replied calmly.  “I’m guessing that this is your first flight?” Zayn’s eyes shifted from the window, to the man and then back again.  Sure enough, the ground was moving away and the movement inside the cabin was suddenly smoother, almost silent.  He didn’t reply, too confused by what was going on.  “Who are you?” Zayn demanded once again, pulling his eyes away from the small window in order to concentrate on his kidnapper exclusively.  The plane’s takeoff didn’t seem like his most important issue at the moment.  The man sighed and carefully placed his coffee cup back in the saucer.  “I’m your father,” he explained, then waited while Zayn absorbed that bombshell. Zayn sat there in silence for the longest time, his mind not really accepting the declaration.  But not rejecting it either.  The possibility was too ludicrous to consider.  And yet….  He said the word over and over in his mind, trying to do a reality check.  He tried to come up with something to say, but his mind was blank.  For eighteen years, he and his mother had lived alone.  He’d asked about his father, but she’d just waved aside his questions with a smile and a change of subject or a nice story about his father and Zayn had accepted that the man was no longer in existence.  The stories weren’t about who his father had been, only about what they’d done together.  They were only descriptions of their love and the excitement of being with him.  Zayn had accepted that she’d been deliriously happy during that time in her life and that had always been enough for him.  But other than that, he knew nothing about the man.  His appearance now, at this point in his life when things were finally turning around, seemed suspicious.  “Why are you here now?” The man smiled slightly but it wasn’t amusement that showed up on his face.  “You’ve been called up,” he replied, still with a mysterious glint in his eyes. Zayn waited for him to continue but when the man simply stared back, Zayn became impatient.   “We have a completely volunteer military in the United States,” Zayn snapped.  “You can’t simply dictate that I’m going to serve and proceed to kidnap me.” The man chuckled.  “You’re not needed to actually serve in the military, but you will run it.” Zayn sighed, impatient with trying to figure things out.  If the man wanted to create a mystery, Zayn wasn’t going to participate.  Instead of asking questions and demanding more information, Zayn sat back in the leather chair as if he always traveled in such mind-boggling luxury.  For several moments, the two men glared at each other, neither willing to break the stand down. In the end, the older man broke the silence.   “My name is Azfal Zaman Sarkis, Sheik of Tusain.”  He waited several moments while that name sunk in.  “Your name is Zayn Sarkis.  You are my third son and rightful heir to the Tusain throne.” Zayn’s mind quickly processed all of that information, going through the stories his mother had told him and came to the conclusion that something was still missing.   “I wasn’t your heir previously or you never would have abandoned me so many years ago.  Why are you here now?” “I didn’t know of your existence until three months ago when my second son, Tafran, died in a plane crash.  My first born son, Ramin, died two years ago.  So you are the next in line and will ascend to your leadership position as the next Sheik of Tusain when I die.” Zayn’s mind was spinning and he gripped the sides of the chair to try and regain control.  “I had brothers?” he demanded, astounded by the news.  He’d always considered Angelo and Dominic to be his brothers and in every sense of the word, they were, except for blood.  Not that he put much stock in heredity, but the idea that he not only had a father who was alive and well, sitting in front of him, but he also had brothers, was too astounding to grasp.  “Why wasn’t I told?” “They didn’t know you existed either.  They never knew about you.  Your mother was a beautiful woman, but she was also stubborn and never told me of your existence.  As I said, you were not known to me until two months ago.  It has been a hard challenge to fight off my enemies so that you would still be able to ascend to the throne, my son.  But now that you are returning, and you are a healthy and strong man, we will both show the world that you are more powerful than my enemies.  We will fight them off together.” Zayn shook his head.  “I don’t want any of this.”  And then his mind caught on something else.  “Do I have any other brothers or sisters?” he asked.  Azfal smiled, realizing that he’d just found the one way to exercise control over this strong, independent man.  “You have five sisters.  They range in age from five years old to twenty.  You also have three nieces, all of them very small babies.”   If family ties would help bring Zayn into the fold, he would use everything in his power.  Most men would be demanding to know what kind of power or wealth came with the title.  And Azfal was proud that this man was more interested in family.  That was a very good sign.  “Sisters…” Zayn whispered, leaning forward, his mind still trying to wrap around all that he was hearing.  He wasn’t even aware of the plane traveling above the Atlantic Ocean and disappearing into the clouds.  He had family.  A very big family, apparently.  Azfal watched carefully, noting the point when his son accepted the news.  This man sitting in front of him was powerful and would be a very strong leader.  He would need training though.  But his investigators had already uncovered so many admirable qualities in this young man.  Yes, he thought as he watched his only surviving son absorb the news that he was part of a very large family.  This man would serve Tusain well.  It wouldn’t be easy.  He’d read the reports from his investigators that discussed this man’s stubbornness and independence.  But even those attributes would serve Tusain well.  Ella's Story... Eight year old Ella peered around the corner of the building, her heart racing with fear and apprehension.  The enemy was out there, she thought with terror.  “I can do this,” Ella told herself firmly.  She stepped out of the school building, pulling her book bag higher up on her shoulder.  Ella knew that Julia was out there somewhere, but she wasn’t expecting the bigger girl to be right outside the school doorway, lying in wait for Ella to appear.  Earlier in the day, Ella had been accosted during recess so being out in the streets now was a risk.   “You’re going to give me the answers to the math questions,” Julia Miller had commanded during recess earlier in the day. Ella had swallowed painfully, her eyes huge but not agreeing to anything.  Julia was over a head taller than Ella and mean!  When the teacher had handed out the math test, Ella had stared at the answers, already doing the work in her head.   But she’d taken a moment to glance over at Julia who sat in the seat next to her.  Ella didn’t like the other girl.  Julia was mean, cheated in any way she could and, during recess, pushed people down when the teacher wasn’t looking.  No one could catch Julia but that wasn’t the biggest issue now that school was over for the day.   The real problem was that Ella hadn’t given Julia the answers to the math quiz.  Now Julia was on a rampage.  All her anger was now directed towards Ella.  As Ella looked around, the path towards home seemed clear.   She raced through the school playground, her breath catching in her throat and a stitch hurting her side, but she didn’t stop.  A stitch was one thing.  Julia’s fist would be something completely different.  When she rounded the corner, she couldn’t believe her eyes.  There he was!  Standing there, looking big and tall and scary!  “What are you doing here?” she whispered to Zayn Sarkis.  He’d walked her home the previous day and had even threatened Julia if she didn’t play nicely.  But for him to be here a second day?  That was amazing!  And extremely sweet!  Zayn stepped closer, chuckling as he watched the little girl’s wide eyes flash to the left and right.  “I came to walk you home.  Do you need some help?” he asked gently.  He didn’t want to hurt her pride, but he knew she was terrified. Ella licked her lips, her eyes looking around.  She wanted to be brave.  She vehemently wished she could stand up for herself, but she was so relieved to see Zayn’s strong, intimidating presence.   “Yes,” she finally replied, barely loud enough for him to hear.  “Good.  Let’s go home,” he said, tilting his head to the side, encouraging her to stand tall.  “How was Ms. Manchester today?” he asked, referring to the third grade teacher of Ella’s class.  “Does she still have a pet turtle?” he asked. Ella’s eyes widened in surprise.   “How did you know that?” she asked, walking taller as she thought about the pet turtle instead of worrying about the female menace named Julia.  As they walked down the street, they discussed the pros and cons of various pets, both agreeing that dogs were better, but cats took less care.  Turtles, they both agreed, were fine, if one were a science teacher but they didn’t really do much other than exist as a pet.  As they walked down the street, on the block right before Ella’s house, Julia Miller stood, glaring at the two of them.  Zayn stood over the smaller girl, stepping in front of Ella, acting as a shield.  “Julia, you don’t look like a very nice person.  I sincerely hope that you aren’t bothering Ms. Ella any longer,” he said, his voice filled with menace. Julia looked around Zayn, trying to see Ella’s face.  “This little twerp means nothing to you, Zayn.  Where’s Angelo and Dominic?  Don’t you have some good deed to do?” she asked with a sneer. Zayn simply stepped in front of Julia again.   “I really don’t like people bothering my friends,” Zayn said, his voice going lower. Julia heard the message and looked up, confused.  “You aren’t friends with this chic.  She’s just a wimp.” Zayn stepped closer.  “She’s my friend.  And I really don’t like bullies.  Are you a bully, Julia?” Zayn interrupted.  Julia sputtered slightly, her hand waving towards Ella who was standing on the bottom stair of her building stoop.  “She’s nothing to you.  But she…” “She’s my friend.  Back off, Julia.  Or your dad won’t get that delivery he’s been waiting for.” Julia looked up again, not sure what he was talking about.  “What delivery?” she demanded. “Go ask your dad.  Every Tuesday, your father receives a delivery around midnight.  If you aren’t careful, we might need to let Officer Jones know about that midnight delivery.” Julia looked down at Ella, then back up at Zayn.  She had no idea what delivery her father received at midnight on Tuesdays, but her father wasn’t someone Julia wanted to mess around with.  Her dad had a habit of backhanding anyone who got too close, too far away, didn’t finish their dinner on time or finished too quickly, didn’t eat the right amount….or basically any infraction he thought up when his arm swung around.  “My dad doesn’t need the Tuesday delivery,” she claimed, unsure if her father even had a Tuesday delivery. Zayn didn’t answer, but one of his black eyebrows went up in question.  It took several more moments, but Julia eventually started to show signs of backing down.  Her eyes turned worried, her shoulders drooped ever so slightly and her feet narrowed from her fighting stance to one that indicated…well, that she wanted to run away as fast as possible.  Ella breathed a huge sigh of relief, her hand moving to the cold, metal banister.  She didn’t even mind the chipped paint or the ever-present scent of rotting trash.  Zayn had accomplished in moments what Ella thought she would never be free of – Julia’s tormenting retribution!  In the next moment, Julia silently turned around and walked down the street.   When she reached the corner, Ella smiled as the bigger girl started running.  Ella had no idea what was in the Tuesday deliveries, but the threat was enough to scare the girl. Throwing herself at Zayn, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him, her eyes closed with delight.   “Thank you!” she cried out, excitement over her new-found freedom all encompassing.  “Thank you thank you thank you!” She heard Zayn’s chuckle and felt his arms wrap around her shoulders as he bent down lower.  “You’re welcome,” he came back.  “I think I need to teach you how to stand up for yourself, little one.  There will be other girls who will try and intimidate you.” Ella pulled away, wonder in her eyes.  “Would you really teach me how?” she asked.  “Of course,” Zayn answered, chucking her on the chin before he stood up.  “I have to go now, but I’ll see you after school tomorrow?” Ella only nodded her head with happiness shining out of her thin features.  She tugged her book bag back up onto her shoulder then raced inside, eager to tell her mother about her walk home.  Ella and her mother spent the rest of the evening making cookies, the only way they could think to thank Zayn for his assistance.  The following day, Ella peered out once again from the door to the school building and, sure enough, there he was!  She skipped down the steps, her face shining with happiness and relief.  “You’re here,” she stated the obvious when she reached his side.  Ella actually preened slightly as the other students saw her standing there talking to Zayn.  Everyone in the neighborhood knew Zayn as well as Angelo and Dominic.  They were a little like movie stars and just being seen with one of them was huge!  She dumped her book bag on the ground and unzipped the top, pulling out a small package.  “These are for you,” she said, suddenly nervous about handing him the offering.  “They are a thank you for your help with Julia.”  She smiled and peered up through her lashes.  “And are you the one who put the bag of groceries outside our door last night?” she asked.  Zayn looked into the bag and his grin widened.  “Cookies?” he said and pulled one out.  He ignored the question about the groceries.  He had done that along with Angelo and Dominic so he wasn’t going to take credit for that.  He just hoped she and her mother ate a bit better for a few days until her mother found another home to clean that would replace the income she’d lost on the apartment she’d lost in Manhattan.  Biting into the chocolate chip cookie, his eyes widened in surprise.  “These are amazing,” he said and gobbled up the entire cookie. Ella’s smile grew wider.   “My mom helped me make them.   She puts something special in them.” “What is it?” he asked, taking two more out of the bag as they started to walk home from school. Ella shrugged her shoulders.  “I don’t know actually.  She snuck it into the mix while I was finishing my math homework.”  Ella’s eyes widened when, they’d just turned the corner, Angelo and Dominic appeared.  “What’s in the bag?” Dominic asked, crowding his friend when he tried to hide the cookies.  Ella giggled as Zayn tried to hold the bag away from Dominic.  He wasn’t fast enough because Angelo, who was standing silently to the side, simply plucked the bag from Zayn’s hand and grabbed a cookie.  While Zayn was trying to grab his stash back, Angelo tossed two cookies to Dominic who instantly caught them, chomping down on one before Zayn had a chance to grab it back.  “Wow!” Dominic exclaimed.  “These are awesome!” While Angelo and Dominic reveled in the taste of the soft, delicious cookies, Zayn grabbed the bag back, snatching two more for himself.  “Thanks for the cookies,” he said, trying not to appear rude by talking with his mouth full, but the cookies genuinely were too good to stop eating.  “I think these are the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had,” he mumbled.  Ella beamed with pride.  With her hands behind her back and her shoulders swinging back and forth, she grinned up at the three boys.  “Thank you so much for getting Julia away from me. Angelo’s eyes darkened and Dominic stopped chewing.  “You let us know if that girl, or anyone else bothers you, okay?” Ella nodded.  “I will,” she promised.  Zayn gently pulled one of her braids.  “And keep getting those good grades, okay?” Ella laughed.  “Definitely.” The three boys moved off down the street but Ella continued to watch them.  Something was bothering her and she bit her lip as she finally walked inside.  The next day at school, Ella watched Julia during math class.  The expression on the mean girl’s face gave Ella pause.  She wasn’t sure what was going through Julia’s mind, but Ella was pretty sure that Julia didn’t understand how to do the work.  It was fractions and most people misunderstood fractions.  They were fun, in her mind. During recess, Ella hung out at the edge of the playground.  Several times her friends called her over, but she just smiled and waved them on.  She stood by the swing set, watching Julia and Rosie, Julia’s best friend.  Several times, Julia glared over at Ella.  Finally, the big girl stomped over to where Ella was standing.  “What do you want, wimp?” she growled.  “You’re pet dogs won’t be around forever.” Ella was terrified, but something inside of her knew that there was more to this issue.  Ella looked up at Julia, behind her to Rosie, then took a deep breath and spilled out what she wanted to say.  “Julia, if you need help with math, I can show you how to do some of the problems.  I have a few tricks that I use to remember how to do fractions.”  She’d said all of that in a rushed whisper, her bravery failing her in the face of Julia’s contempt. The offer, so unexpected, transformed Julia’s face from snarling anger to complete confusion.  “Huh?” was her only response.  Ella shrugged slightly, her charity-box shirt slipping off of her shoulder because it was about three sizes too big.  “I won’t let you cheat off of me, but I can help you.”  She waited for a reaction.  “If you want, that is…”  Ella wasn’t sure what else to say.  Julia finally recovered, then shrugged.  “Who says I need your help, brat?” At least Julia hadn’t punched first.   Ella considered that a good sign.  “Fractions are pretty hard,” Ella came back, her voice only slightly more confident.  Julia at a distance was scary.  Julia up close was terrifying.  “I have some memory tricks.  They aren’t hard and I could teach you, if you’d like.  But if you don’t want that, I understand.”  Ella started to walk away.   She was about five feet off of the asphalt playground when Julia called out to her.   “Why would you help me?” she demanded. Ella turned back, blinking at the harsh sunlight.  She shrugged and looked down at the dirt.  “I’m sure there will be things that you could help me with later on.  I was just offering to help you with something I’m good at.  Maybe we could trade talents?” That made more sense to the bigger girl.  Julia wasn’t used to anyone being nice to her.  Offering to do something was generally a trick that Julia had learned to avoid in her short, young life.  Julia’s stance altered.  “What if…” “Maybe you could teach me to be more confident?” Ella offered, her shoulders cringing at the idea.  “I know I appear wimpy.  And you’re so strong.  I don’t really…”  Ella desperately wanted to get rid of her “victim” posture and Julia was the most confident girl in her grade.  Ella suspected Julia was also just scared, but she hid it well.  Julia’s shoulders puffed up with pride.  “Yeah, I could teach you that.”  She nodded her head slightly before she said.  “Okay, here’s the deal.  You show me fractions, and if I can learn that, then I’ll teach you how to look stronger.” Ella tried to smile, but she was still so scared of the bigger girl.  First lesson, she told herself mentally – don’t back down.  “Okay.  When?” Julia considered things for a moment.  “After school.  I don’t want to be seen with you.  So we’ll meet behind your building.” Ella nodded, accepting the time and place with relief.  “Okay.  Sounds good.” With that, Ella spun around and raced off to find her friends, relieved that she’d at least made the offer.  As soon as she sat down next to her friends, Ella wondered what she’d just done.  She’d agreed to meet the meanest girl in school, the one who had bullied her and tormented her for years, behind her building where there would be no witnesses if Julia decided to pummel Ella.  What was she thinking?  The whole day, Ella trembled and worried so much that by the time she walked out of school at the end of the day, she was almost sick with worry.  Zayn immediately spotted Ella as she walked down the steps of the school.  “What’s wrong, Ella?” he asked as he walked in step beside her.  Ella took a deep breath, blinking back the tears.  “I think I did something really stupid,” she whispered.  Zayn stopped and touched her shoulder.   “What’s wrong?” he asked, bending down to her level so he could look into her eyes.  Ella bit her lip, then rushed out, explaining what she’d offered to Julia only one day after he’d fixed the problem for her. Zayn listened carefully, but when she was finished, he stood up and smiled down at her.  “That was very brave of you.  Are you sure you can teach her fractions?” he asked. Ella cringed.  “I think so, but I’m not positive.” Zayn laughed and patted her on the shoulder.  “Don’t worry.  I think Julia sincerely wants to learn this stuff.  And what you’ve done was amazingly sweet, but I already knew that about you.” Ella laughed, shaking her head.  “I’m pretty sure I can show Julia how to do fractions, but I’m not sure if Julia can show me how to appear confident,” she came back as they both started walking down the busy street towards her building. She and Zayn walked and talked and he laughed at some of her quips.  As she came closer to her building, she spotted a red shirt suddenly whip out of sight.  “I think Julia is here now,” Ella whispered to Zayn. Zayn nodded and bent low again.  “I’ll find a place to watch out for you.” Ella felt uncomfortable with his offer.  “You have more important things to do than watch out for me,” she said, shuffling her feet on the sidewalk.  “No I don’t,” he chuckled.  “Go ahead.  I’ll make sure you’re okay.” Ella sighed with relief.  She pulled her book bag higher on her shoulder, raced up the stairs to let her mother know that she was home, then moved more slowly down the stairway to the back of the building.  Sure enough, Julia was there, leaning against the filthy brick wall.  “Ready?” Ella asked, swallowing painfully.  Even knowing that Zayn was most likely close by, she was still nervous.  The stink of rotting food and urine didn’t help much.  Julia pushed away from the brick wall and came closer.  “You sure you can teach me this stuff?” she demanded. Ella took a deep breath.  “I think so,” she replied.  “Let’s try,” she suggested.  Julia hesitated, then took out her book.   The two girls sat down on the grungy stair and Ella opened her book.  It took only a few minutes, explaining her trick to Julia before the girl’s eyes widened as comprehension hit.  “That’s all?” she demanded.  Ella nodded her head.  “That’s it.  Not much to it.” Julia looked down at her torn-up notebook, now scribbled with the various tips.  “This is too easy,” she grumbled.  “I don’t know why our teacher didn’t tell us all these things.” Two days later, Julia and Ella were once again behind the building.  Julia kept poking Ella’s shoulders.  “Stand up straight,” Julia commanded.  “You can’t slump your shoulders like that.” It took several more pokes before Ella learned to pull her shoulders back and keep her head high.  “That’s it,” Julia said, nodding with approval.  “Now you don’t look like a target.   As much,” she said with a wicked grin.  “So maybe you could help me with multiplication?” Ella smiled with relief and the two sat down once again and they went over the multiplication tables.  It was all a matter of memorization and Julia wasn’t as good at that.  But they worked at it several more days and Julia poked Ella on the playground several times, indicating that Ella needed to straighten her shoulders. It wasn’t that the two girls became good friends over the next few days.  It was more that they simply weren’t enemies.  Julia was thrilled when she got her math test back and received a C for her efforts, which was enormously better than the Ds and Fs she normally got.  And Ella walked down the street feeling much better about herself.  She spotted Zayn along with his friends, Angelo and Dominic, several times.  She had conflicting feelings about her newfound freedom.  She’d loved walking home from school with Zayn.  He was fascinating to talk to and oh-so-handsome!  But with her new courage, he would simply wink at her from across the street and give her nods of approval.  It was nice, but she missed talking to him.  She accepted that life didn’t always give one what one wanted.  But she also knew that it gave one what one needed.  The Sheik’s Rediscovered Lover There was that odd feeling again. Ella looked around the marble and glass lobby, wondering what could be causing such a sensation. She’d been working for six hours without a break already and her feet ached, her fingers were numb from typing in guest information and all she wanted was a sofa to kick her feet up on and a hot cup of tea. Okay, and maybe a bowl of soup. And an ice cold glass of milk. Mentally, she sighed but outwardly, she maintained the pasted on smile as she greeted the next guest. As one of several front desk receptionists at one of the best hotels in Washington, D.C., she knew what was expected of her. She’d worked hard to get into this position, even lying on her employment application. The minimum age was twenty-one for this position and Ella was only eighteen. But she’d had to do something. She’d moved to Washington, D.C. from New York City and her old neighborhood had become too dangerous and none of the jobs she could obtain at her age could pay her enough to escape the horror of that life. Ella now took pride in being one of the best front desk receptionists, despite her age, and she worked hard to maintain this position. She sincerely prayed no one would discover her age. She focused on the guests in front of her, checking them in as quickly as possible, ignoring that niggling feeling that kept hitting the back of her neck. What was wrong with her today? She wasn’t usually this distracted! Looking around, she noted that the end of the line for people trying to check in was finally getting shorter. Thankfully, she counted out the people in line and calculated that she had approximately one more hour before things would slow down. With a sigh of relief, she handed her current guests their room keys, explained all the normal details about the hotel and politely directed them to the elevators. The next guest moved forward and she pasted her normal bright smile on her face. That strange sensation returned and she looked around, distracted once again. Why couldn’t she focus? Pushing the niggling moment out of her mind, she took the new guest’s credit card, checking them in as efficiently as possible. At one moment, she actually reached up to brush the back of her neck, wondering why she kept feeling that awkward, strange feeling. watching her? It was almost as if….was someone She looked around. No one was paying any significant amount of attention to her and she shook off the odd feeling. Too many mystery novels lately, she told herself silently. The next guest moved to her station and she smiled, going through the whole process one more time. Again and again, she checked in the guests, smiling patiently while they asked the same questions, giving out the exact same directions over and over again to the elevators or bathrooms, her fingers flying across the keyboard. She forced her mind to focus only on the next guest, ignoring that silly sensation that wouldn’t go away as well as the heat and humidity that was seeping into the marble lobby as so many people walked in and out of the revolving doors. The glass doors were made to keep most of the generally miserable Washington, D.C. summer weather outside, but when the temperatures reached this level and with the height of the tourist season upon the city, the doors could only do so much. This job might not be the most intellectually stimulating, but it paid the rent and helped her work her way through her first year of college. It also kept her out of the gangs from her old neighborhood. Joining one of the competing factions definitely hadn’t been an option even though they’d tried hard to coerce her into the life. Ella had left all of that behind and, if that neighborhood had taught her anything, it was that she could ignore unsavory characters and overcome difficult challenges. If rude people or miserable weather was the issue today, she could rise above those problems and maintain her professionalism. It didn’t matter if they were selling drugs on the street corner or selling stocks on Wall Street, they all thought they could bully around someone smaller but she would not let them ruin this opportunity for her. She was working her way through a check-in process when she once again felt something odd on the back of her shoulders. Looking around, she thought she was being silly. And then she saw him! He was striding across the lobby floor in a crowd of other men but she could never mistake that incredibly tall, amazingly muscular man! It was him! It was Zayn! He’d disappeared ten years ago and everyone, including his best friends, Dominic and Angelo, had thought he’d either been killed or arrested. But no one had heard from him – he’d just disappeared without anyone having any information, not even the police. Ella remembered that his friends had gone a bit nuts after his disappearance so long ago, searching everywhere, interrogating everyone. And then they’d just as suddenly stopped, no explanation and they hadn’t seemed concerned any longer. Ella had worried for several years about Zayn’s disappearance but with no information, she hadn’t been able to figure out what had happened to him. And now he was here, looking astonishingly vital and wonderfully healthy, more fabulous than he had all those years ago. Goodness he was tall! And so very handsome! Those dark eyes and his tanned skin made him seem like some sort of piratical, romantic hero. He’d obviously done well for himself, she thought, peeking out from her lashes but looking quickly away when she realized that he was still staring at her. Her heartbeat increased frantically at that realization and she wanted to hide under the front desk counter but that was ridiculous. This was Zayn Sarkis! He had always been a complete gentleman. She had no right feeling shy and oddly strange towards a man who had always been very sweet and protective of her. Dominic Carson and Angelo Donati had worked their way out of the neighborhood as well. Now, they were both wealthy men who made it into the business and gossip news occasionally which made Ella proud, even though she hadn’t ever been as close to them as she had been with Zayn. Why was he here? And wow! He looked fabulous! Her hungry eyes followed him across the elegant lobby, wondering how she could say hello to him without her manager seeing. Personal conversations with the hotel guests were a major violation of hotel policy, she knew. But she couldn’t take her eyes off of the man. He looked so wonderful and he’d been the sweetest, kindest, gentlest man from that horrible, old neighborhood. She thought fondly of how he used to meet her at school every day for an entire week when one of her third grade classmates was bullying her. He’d stood up for her, walked her through the streets, helped her carry the groceries home from the store when her mother had sent her with a larger than normal list. He’d been her hero back then even though she’d been only eight years old. She’d never understood how Zayn had been able to just appear when he was needed. He had been like a ghost all those years ago. One moment she was facing her third grade nemesis alone, trembling with fear that Julia Miller would smack her down on her walk home from school and then the next moment, Zayn was beside her, teasing her and telling her jokes to make her laugh. It became known around the neighborhood that Zayn protected her. And by association, Angelo and Dominic would also watch out for her. She wasn’t the only one they protected. There were several girls, including some of the smaller, scrawnier boys who had received help from those three at the time. Those three boys had been demons in the neighborhood and no one, absolutely no one, messed with any of them. They stole cars to make money, stole anything they could get their hands on actually. They had a network of spies all over the area and knew anything that was happening. Good grief, those three seemed to know what was going on even before it occurred! Now that she thought about it, the neighborhood had started going downhill as soon as those three boys had left. First, Zayn had left, just vanished with no one knowing anything about what had happened. Then Dominic and Angelo had started to succeed in their business ventures. They’d grown and invested and done so well for themselves and all of the residents from the old neighborhood liked to brag about how “they knew Dominic Carson and Angelo Donati when…”. Those two were completely legitimate now and she was so proud of them. They were her inspiration. If they could do it, she knew that she could succeed as well. Okay, so the three of them had already made their first million by the time they were her age. She was just a late bloomer! She was taking classes at the community college, just like they’d secretly done. She was working a legal job that paid well and had a decent career path. Maybe Dominic and Angelo had developed a different strategy but hers was working for her. She knew they’d started their own businesses. Angelo was huge into the pharmaceuticals industry, having a knack for chemistry and an instinct for science and scientific advances while Dominic was more into real estate and investments, able to convince just about anyone to do whatever he wanted simply by talking to them, listening to their concerns and figuring out how to create a deal so that everyone came out a winner. Those two had done shockingly well over the years, accumulating wealth that was incomprehensible to her. Since Zayn had disappeared without any word, she didn’t know what area of expertise he’d gone into, but he looked like he was doing fabulously well for himself as well. She wasn’t in their league, but she’d succeed eventually. She’d get there somehow, although probably not as high up on the food chain as those two. She just had to find her passion. But Zayn! She’d always had a little crush on Zayn. She’d known that he was one of those guys that the other neighborhood girls adored. All three of those boys were pretty handsome, but there had always been something about Zayn that had captured her attention. Of course, she’d been eight years old back then and he’d been a dashing eighteen year old before he’d mysteriously disappeared. But it didn’t matter. She’d thought he was a knight in shining armor, so wonderful and sweet, daring anyone to mess with the little people of the neighborhood. She watched as he strode confidently through the lobby, stopping at the private elevators that were reserved for only the very wealthiest of guests. In fact, that whole group stopped and waited. When the elevator doors opened moments after they pressed the button, she watched with fascination as Zayn stepped on first, ignoring the rest of the older men who surrounded him. He must be an employee of those men, she thought with a secret thrill as she greeted her next guest. He’d made it out too! He hadn’t gone to jail or to prison like so many of the others had speculated, nor had he died some horrible death at the hands of one of his enemies. He was here and he looked amazing! Even more muscular and taller than before. He must have grown another foot since he’d left at eighteen which was pretty astounding since he’d been crazy tall back when she’d known him before. Just as the doors closed, his dark eyes sliced to hers and she almost gasped with surprise at the impact of that gaze. His eyes were dark and, even from this distance, she could feel the danger emanating from those eyes. Something in her stomach started fluttering and she put a hand to her belly, trying to quell the ridiculous feeling. This was Zayn! She couldn’t feel this for him! She tore her eyes away and glanced down at the granite reception counter. But a moment later, a fraction of a second before the elevator doors closed, she glanced up and he was still staring at her, still making those flutters go wild in her belly. When the doors finally closed, she pulled her eyes away and realized that she’d been holding her breath. She filled her lungs with oxygen and turned back to the computer. Getting her mind back in gear, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Zayn looked wonderful, yes, but she couldn’t lose this job. She knew that she wouldn’t see him again, so it was best to concentrate and get her work done better than all the others who worked at the front desk. She had to be friendlier, smarter, more considerate and more creative in helping her guests in order to stand out. She had no idea what his business was with that group of men but she had a job to do and couldn’t be caught slacking off for any reason. Thankfully, another flurry of guests arrived at that moment and Ella worked diligently to check each of them into their room or suite carefully and with as much professionalism as possible. Seeing Zayn again gave her last few hours at the front desk an extra spark, allowing her to smile more brightly and be more patient as she gave directions to the lobby bathrooms for the fiftieth time that day. If her eyes glanced around occasionally, she wasn’t trying to find Zayn again, she told herself firmly. She was simply trying to survey the lobby and determine when the rush of guests would abate. Her shift on the front desk finally ended at three o’clock that afternoon and she smiled tiredly at Dorothy, her replacement for the night shift. “It was busy today,” Ella told her. “I just have room checks to do and I’m out of here, thankfully.” Dorothy was a nice woman in her early thirties with four kids. She had the morning shift at home which enabled her to ensure that the kids got off to school each day with a hot breakfast and a warm hug while her husband worked the night shift at a gas station down the road. He arrived home in time to meet the kids coming off of the school bus, feed them dinner, help each with their homework and tuck them into bed with another hug. “Not as crazy as at my house,” Dorothy teased. “Jeremy decided today was a good day to practice his trombone in his sisters’ room. Needless to say, there was lots of shouting going on before I finally got the little demons out the door to school this morning.” Ella laughed but in truth, she was jealous of Dorothy’s home life. She had great kids that made her laugh, an attentive husband who worshiped her and she got to snuggle with her kids every day. Ella definitely wanted kids, she thought as she picked up the clipboard that contained a checklist for inspecting each of the rooms. She just had to find the right guy. She’d love to have a whole houseful of children one day. The tall, incredibly handsome man who had walked through the lobby today popped into her mind. No, she told herself firmly. Zayn definitely wasn’t the right guy. He had other priorities, but she smiled at the memory of him striding so confidently through the lobby. She sighed and pushed through the long hallways, holding her clipboard in front of her as she went down the list once again. She had three more rooms to check before she was finished for the day. It wasn’t that she had big plans. She was just going to sit in her tiny apartment and study, but she was still relieved to be leaving the hotel. It had been a hard, busy day interrupted only by the excitement of seeing Zayn. When she entered the penthouse suite, she knocked first and called out carefully to ensure that no one was there. It was her job to check the rooms and ensure that housekeeping had cleaned properly prior to letting the guests into the rooms. E l l a normally cleaned the penthouse was good, which was the only way they could get onto this team. It was a prime job because there weren’t as many beds to make, the rooms were generally left in very good order so there wasn’t as much cleaning to do. But whatever work there was, it had to be done extremely well. This suite cost more per night than double her entire annual salary. “You’re very beautiful,” a deep voice said. Ella jumped six inches off the ground, so startled she almost dropped her clipboard. “I’m sorry…I didn’t think…” she was about to say that she had thought the penthouse suite was empty but when her eyes glanced up, she realized who it was. “Zayn?” she whispered, excitement fluttering in her tummy once again. “Is that really you?” she asked. She could tell that he didn’t recognize her. She pressed the clipboard to her chest and smiled brightly. “It’s me! Ella Cooper. Remember from the old neighborhood? You were my hero and saved me several times from a beating from Julia Miller.” There was a heartbeat of a pause, then she saw the recognition in his eyes. And then the surprise. “Ella? Is that really you?” he asked, moving forward now, his hand slipping out of his pockets as he took her into a gentle hug. “Yes. Can you believe it?” she laughed, suddenly trembling as his he bent down to wrap those hard, muscular arms around her. Why was she quivering like this? Surely she wasn’t attracted to Zayn as a man! Or was she just afraid of him? There was definitely an aura of authority surrounding him. He’d always been tough, but there was something different, an air of….power? She was being silly. This was Zayn! Surely she was imagining things. She shouldn’t be intimidated by him. He was a sweet, gentle, kind man who would never hurt anyone. She breathed a little easier when he pulled back. She took a step backwards, needing the extra space just to see up into his eyes because of his height. She ignored the excited trembling that invaded her body, pretending that this was just a friend, a guy she’d known just about all her life. “Where have you been for the last ten years? Angelo and Dominic just about went crazy looking for you after you disappeared.” Zayn shrugged slightly. “I contacted them as soon as I could. I knew they’d be worried.” That actually hurt. It meant that Dominic and Angelo were worth notifying of his circumstances but she hadn’t rated a call. But why should she? She’d been just a little girl back then. Maintaining her professional smile, she asked “Well, what happened to you? Rumor had it for a while that you were arrested. Is that true?” Zayn laughed and Ella was embarrassed by the way the sound made her feel. She shifted slightly, wondering if he could tell that the sound had made her stomach tighten slightly. And those darn flutterings were going full force now! But then he smiled. It was a bit rueful but, as she looked up at his handsome face, she couldn’t believe how that smile made her heart rate speed up. “I guess you could say I was imprisoned.” Her eyes widened with concern. “Oh my. Are you okay? You look…” She hesitated, unaware that her eyes were looking at him as if he were a piece of chocolate cheesecake before she got her libido back in check. This was Zayn she told herself again. He was like a brother to her. Wasn’t he? Okay, maybe a cousin. Perhaps a very distant cousin. She looked at his broad, muscular shoulders, her breath catching slightly. Maybe the best friend of a distant cousin, she corrected. “I’m okay now but I was pretty furious initially.” Zayn looked at the petite woman standing in front of him. She was smiling up at him as if he were some sort of relative, which was completely the opposite of what he was feeling for her. He’d had only a brief feel of her softness before she’d pulled away, but that slight touch of her lush, full breasts pressing against his chest had whetted his appetite. He’d seen her several times during the day but she was much more beautiful up close. And moments ago, he’d been ogling her adorable bottom in her stiff suit before he’d revealed himself to her and his body had reacted strongly to her delectable figure. She had great legs too. He wondered what they would look like if they weren’t in those hideous, thick stockings and ugly, demure shoes. She definitely wasn’t the frightened little girl he’d walked home from school several days a week as a kid. She’d filled out in all the right places. She truly was extraordinarily beautiful, he thought. Her high cheekbones and those striking green eyes were fascinating. She was too short to be a model, but he could honestly say that he’d never encountered a woman nearly as beautiful as Ella Cooper. Or one as strikingly elegant or poised. She struck him as the ultimate beauty and he wondered why she kept all that dark hair hidden. He remembered her having straight, almost black hair that she’d pulled all of it back in a ponytail or a braid almost every day. She now wore it pinned on top of her head but those soft, wispy tendrils framing her face told him that she still had the lovely, silky texture. Since it was restrained, he was unsure of the length but he suspected that it was still long and beautiful. With that dark hair and her pale, white skin and gorgeous green eyes, she reminded him of some Irish vixen, her long, dark lashes hiding her amazing eyes from his view but he wanted to see all of her, delve into all that she’d become and learn all about who she had grown into. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I saw you down in the lobby. I suppose you work here?” “Yes,” Ella replied, not sure how she felt about the situation. She wished she could say that she’d been more successful over the years, especially so she could impress Zayn. But there was nothing she could do about that now. Her life wasn’t as glamorous as she’d like, but she wasn’t doing too badly. “I graduated high school early and am now attending college classes a few days a week.” Feeling embarrassed that she hadn’t done more with her life, she changed the subject, shifting it away from herself and her lack of achievements. “Obviously you’ve done pretty well for yourself since you were released.” Zayn chuckled slightly. “I don’t know if I can actually claim that I’ve been released. Although I’ve accepted the situation.” Ella didn’t understand what he was saying. “So what are you doing here now?” “I have some meetings over the next few days.” This meeting with Ella definitely wasn’t going the way he’d anticipated, Zayn thought. Ella was asking about his past and he would really like to discuss their future. He wanted this lovely woman. The more he spoke to her, the more intrigued he was. He’d thought she was sexy and adorable when he’d seen her in the lobby, but now that he could see her up close, see those sparkling green eyes and her soft, red lips, his mind was picturing her amid satin sheets, completely devoid of that unflattering uniform she was wearing. He shifted closer, enjoying her sweet scent and noticing that her fingers were trembling slightly. That was a good sign, he thought. It told him that she was only pretending to think of him platonically and professionally. That was good. Definitely giving him hope. And more lustful thoughts. Obviously he wasn’t in prison any longer, she thought, relieved. “Are you meeting with anyone important? Maybe they could get you out of whatever pickle you’re currently in.” She smiled hopefully, feeling slightly breathless with him this close. It was difficult, but she continued to mentally remind herself that she shouldn’t be thinking like that about Zayn. He was probably a very busy man and he hopefully thought of her as a friend. “I wish I knew some important people who could help you out.” She had a sudden inspiration. “What about Dominic or Angelo? I know they’ve been doing pretty well for themselves.” She knew she was rambling but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. The way he was looking at her made her feel…awkward. She shifted her clipboard so it was covering her breasts, afraid he might notice that her nipples had hardened because of his closeness. She blinked, trying to focus on his problem instead of the nervous way he made her feel. “I’ve lost touch with them but I would be more than happy to help you find them. And if I can’t locate them, I have some money saved up. I’d lend it to you if it would help.” Zayn couldn’t believe this. He was ruler of one of the wealthiest countries in the world and this tiny little female, the one he’d walked home to protect from mean little bullies, was offering to lend him money to get out of the bad state of affairs she thought he might be facing. “I don’t think either Dominic or Angelo could get me out of my current situation. But I thank you for offering.” He took her hand in his and led her over to one of the down filled sofas, pulling her down next to him. “Tell me what you’ve been up to for the past few years.” Ella sat stiffly beside him, painfully aware of the breach in hotel protocol she was creating by sitting here on the sofa. Despite her completely inappropriate and unprofessional fascination with the man, she didn’t want to be here. She wanted to jump up and stand beside this man, afraid to be caught fraternizing with one of the guests. She didn’t want to get him in trouble either with his employers. She didn’t understand what kind of trouble he was currently in but she didn’t want to make it worse by sitting with him in his boss’s suite. “Why don’t we go somewhere else and I can buy you a drink?” she suggested. Zayn smiled slightly, more than intrigued. He was flattered. No woman had ever offered to buy him a drink. Or anything for that matter. Most women thought of him as a walking wallet. “That would be dangerous,” he said softly and kept her hand in his larger one. She was shivering he realized. He wanted to put her at ease, but he wasn’t sure how to do that. He’d never met a more beautiful woman who was so completely unaware of her beauty. He realized that the chemistry between the two of them was a bit more intense than usual. He liked that about her. Her shyness appealed to him at level he’d never been aware of before. He wanted her, definitely, but he wanted her feeling confident about what might happen between the two of them. “Would you like some coffee?” he asked. He raised his hand and immediately a waiter arrived by his side. “Coffee and something to eat please,” he said. The waiter immediately moved away and Ella panicked. “No, really, that’s okay. I don’t really need coffee. I can’t…” “You can,” he contradicted firmly, telling her with his eyes that she should relax with him. “No, please,” she argued, seeing Bart, the all-knowing waiter, disappear through a set of doors that Ella knew led to the butler’s pantry. She was painfully aware that Bart would be calling downstairs to alert her boss that she was sitting here fraternizing with one of the guests. Or more painfully, one of the guests’ employees! Her eyes sliced to the door behind which Bart had just disappeared, then back to Zayn. As much as she would love to sit and chat with him, find out where he had been for the last ten years and how he had been, she couldn’t sit here in this beautiful suite next to him. “I have to go,” she said firmly and tried to stand up but he kept her hand in his. “Ella, sit down,” he said sternly. At her hesitation, he asked, “Have I ever let anything bad happen to you?” Ella immediately shook her head. “Never,” she whispered but her eyes were wide with the electric shock from his touch. “Sit down and have a cup of coffee with me,” he urged. “Nothing will happen from a simple conversation.” Ella sat, only because she wasn’t sure what else to do. She didn’t want to hurt this man’s feelings, but she really didn’t want to lose her job. “Please, let’s just get away from here and I can buy you a drink. The coffee here is even more expensive than I make in a week!” she joked, but not really. She’d wanted to horrify Zayn but he just smiled slightly and held her hand more firmly. “And I really don’t want you to lose your job. If your employers in the other rooms found out that we were sitting here, I’m sure they wouldn’t be very happy.” Zayn smothered a chuckle at the idea of his advisors being upset with him entertaining a woman. If they found out, they’d probably lock the doors to keep her in here. They’d been pushing him to find a suitable wife for years but Zayn had been too focused on getting the country under control and establishing priorities for growth, as well as getting all of his agencies on the same time table. His advisors were desperate for an heir, especially an heir from him. Their dynastic thinking was that Zayn was a strong, fair ruler so his offspring would be as well and the prosperity of Tusain would continue. “I guarantee that it will be okay. I’ll tell the hotel manager that you are a very valuable employee and he should give you a raise.” Ella knew that any comment from one of the guests along those lines would only be viewed poorly, especially if Bart mentioned she’d been sitting with him having coffee. She smiled but it was forced. She fidgeted under his direct gaze because she knew she simply couldn’t be sitting here like this, even if this man was the most gorgeous, most amazingly handsome and sinfully attractive man she’d ever seen in her life. She had to get out of here before Bart finished his phone call and she was fired. “Really, I’d love to find out what’s happened with you over the past ten years,” she said and stood up, pulling her hand out of his as she took a step backwards. “But I have a great deal of work to do.” She wrote down an address on the corner of her checklist then tore it off and handed it to him. “Here. If you have time, meet me at this place,” she whispered, looking behind her nervously to see if Bart might overhear her statement or see her handing him the scrap of paper. “I get off at six and can be there by seven. If you have time, that is,” she said in a hushed, urgent voice and scooted back another step when he stood up. “I have to go.” With that, she spun around and walked quickly out of the penthouse suite, her head held high. She was even able to nod politely to Bart as she walked by the butler’s pantry. He looked slightly startled by her abrupt departure, but she couldn’t stop to analyze his reaction. She just kept walking out as quickly as possible. Until her shift ended, she was painfully nervous, wondering if either her boss might fire her for the slight breach in rules with Zayn or if Zayn himself might show up. She wasn’t sure which would be worse, or better, or not good. By the time she actually clocked out for the day she was exhausted. Leaning her head against her locker, she took several deep breaths, trying to get herself back under control. A few hours later, Ella slid into one of the seats in the back of the bar. He wouldn’t come, she told herself. She was sitting here with her school books open, looking like an idiot as she waited for a man that suddenly terrified her. But she couldn’t help glancing up every time someone walked into the bar. Her heart sank a little bit each time the new arrival didn’t happen to be Zayn, no matter how many times she told herself to stop hoping. She sighed and shook her head. Why would a man like Zayn come to a place like this when he could have any woman he wanted? And he could meet with them in beautiful restaurants or any bar in the city that catered to the rich and powerful? He obviously worked for someone very high up and he had a good job with them. She should have given him the address to a nicer place, perhaps a coffee shop closer to the hotel. No, that wouldn’t have been good. Someone from the staff might have seen her with him and Zayn wasn’t the kind of man that people didn’t notice. Ella knew she wouldn’t have been comfortable talking with him closer to the hotel. “I thought you were going to study,” Dennis called out from the bar, interrupting her mental castigations. He was the owner who let her wait tables on the weekend and her nights off from the hotel to make some extra cash. He was a sweet man in his late fifties that had seen a hard life, but hadn’t let the cruelty of that life batter his soul. He was kind and generous and had practically adopted her when she’d moved into the apartment building across the street three years ago. She’d struggled a great deal that first year, terrified of how she was going to pay her rent, buy food for herself, keep her job and still finish high school. She had cried on his shoulder on more than one occasion but he’d given her sage advice and helped her through it all. She thought of him more as a father figure than a boss and she respected all he’d done with his life as well. She smiled wanly, wondering if she should tell Dennis about Zayn coming in. Biting her lip, she knew that she had to give him a head’s up. He was very protective and might try and get rid of Zayn if he approached her table. It was improbable that he would come, but just in case. “I might have a friend stop by,” she called back to him. Since it was a Monday night, there weren’t many customers except for a few of the usuals who hung out at the bar almost every day. He looked at her skeptically. “You get your studying done, missy,” Dennis called back to her while he poured another beer for one of his customers. “On it,” she called back with a smile for the sweet man. She looked around at Dennis’ bar, wondering how Zayn would feel meeting her here. He obviously was now used to much classier places, but it wasn’t too horrible here. The tables were clean, Dennis never allowed smoking and he didn’t water down the drinks. The alcohol might not be top shelf, but it wasn’t the rot-gut some of the other bars in the area served. So Dennis had a pretty good business going here with his loyal customers appreciating his honesty and better than normal service. Ella smiled slightly but she heeded his advice and looked down at her books. She didn’t take summers off like most of the other students, preferring to plow through continuously so she could get it done as quickly as possible. She had a history quiz in two days and she’d already written her paper for her English class, but it could use some tweaking. There was no reason to waste energy hoping to see Zayn tonight. He most likely had better things to do with his time than meet a shy, painfully pale brunette at some dive bar in the wrong part of the city. Focusing on her schoolwork, she was busy taking notes, highlighting areas of importance and shifting her papers around so that she could study more efficiently when she felt that strange feeling again. It wasn’t that the air stirred or moved so much as it became…electrified. She pushed her hair off of her forehead, tucking the dark, brown strands back behind her ear and trying to focus. It was probably just the annoying gang members that snuck in through the back door, she told herself as she turned the page on her book. Dennis would take care of anyone that might cause trouble. He was well known for promptly getting rid of the riff raff. “You are here,” Zayn said as he approached. “When my driver pulled up outside, I didn’t think he had the correct address.” Ella looked up, astonished that he had come. Goodness, he looked… amazing! And definitely out of place. His tall, muscular physique alone stood out among the shorter, day laborer type of patrons sitting at the bar. But his dark suit and snowy, white shirt definitely were of better quality than the tee-shirt and jeans crowd. She stared as he approached, shocked at how incredible he looked and the terrifying impact his presence had on her body. She tried to sit up straight, to look confident, but the closer he advanced, the more nervous she became. She pressed back against the chair, suddenly afraid of the furious expression on the tall man’s face. “Zayn? You’re here? You came?” she said, not sure if she was happy or concerned. He looked very forbidding. The Tycoon’s Defiant Southern Belle - An Introduction Angelo’s Story… Ten year old Angelo ignored his rapid heart rate, focusing exclusively on the six guys belligerently standing in front of him. He’d only been in the neighborhood for twenty-four hours and he’d been expecting this confrontation, but not so many of them at one time. After his parents’ death six months ago, he’d learned the hard way how to be “street savvy”. Number one rule of the street - find out who controlled the neighborhood and stay away from them. Either that, or rule the streets yourself. Only the fittest and smartest survived on the cruel streets of New York City. They were tough and often brutal. The last time he’d been confronted, he’d been caught off guard. This time, he was ready. He’d known this moment was coming. Angelo automatically squared his shoulders and faced the teens head on, refusing to show fear. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice abnormally deep for one so young. Angelo suspected that the boys confronting him were about fifteen or sixteen but since he was so big, they probably perceived him as a threat. He was only ten years old, but he was almost as tall as they were. Oh well. He’d either be beaten up today and they’d leave him alone, or he’d take them down and he’d be left alone. happening now and he had to deal with it. Either way, the confrontation was The teens mocked him. The one in the middle, the skinnier one, seemed to be their leader. “We want to know what you’re doing here. We didn’t invite you to the neighborhood. And since we’re in charge here, you should have asked politely.” Angelo ignored the snickers from the five others behind the leader, focusing only on the teen’s eyes. “So are you going to ask politely?” Angelo squared off, refusing to back down. He wasn’t asking permission, politely or otherwise. “Just get out of my way,” he growled, knowing that showing fear for any reason would be tantamount to defeat. Even mental fear wasn’t allowed inside his head. He heard the noise behind him and almost groaned with resentment of his upcoming beating. With six in front of him and more coming from behind, there was no way he could withstand whatever was coming his way. Life really had a way of getting worse and worse, he thought. When someone touched his shoulder, his eyes were momentarily distracted. He looked to his flank and was startled to see the two boys from school, Dominic Carson on his right and Zayn Sakir, the other new kid in school, on his left. They were glaring at the older boys with confident defiance. Both of them were standing up for him? But Dominic had just spurned a friendship with Angelo on the school playground earlier today. Why was he standing up against these goons with him? That didn’t make any sense. Zayn, on the other hand, was a good guy. They’d been in the shadows of the playground together, hungrily watching Dominic reading the book. Both of them had been wondering aloud what the book might contain, fascinated by the temptation of knowledge but not sure how to obtain it. At the time, both he and Zayn had held back, knowing how to bide their time. “What are you doing?” Angelo asked. Dominic was snarling with an evilness that Angelo had already suspected was inside the other boy. Zayn was pressing forward, as if he desperately wanted to fight the six teens personally. Astoundingly, the six boys backed off after Dominic’s show of anger. How was that possible? Had Dominic already dealt with these guys before? Regardless, Angelo owed his classmate. There was no way around it. He turned and faced the two boys who had supported him and helped Angelo avoid what might have been a painful episode in his life. He stuck out his hand. “Thanks,” he said grudgingly. He wanted to get away from these guys but he didn’t think that would be polite. Although why he was suddenly assuming manners was a mystery even to him. He’d didn’t have anyone to care whether he said hello or thank you any longer, so what’s with the new attitude? “Come on,” Zayn said and led the three boys down the street. All of them were flexing their shoulders and other muscles in an attempt to release the tension and adrenalize caused by the possible fight. As soon as they walked into the tiny apartment, Angelo stared in awe at the woman making meatloaf. She had blond hair and blue eyes and looked nothing like her son. Zayn had darker skin, almost black eyes and dark brown hair that curled at the ends because he needed a haircut. “Where have you boys been?” the beautiful woman asked as she poured a glass of water for the three boys and handed each of them two cookies. Angelo ate the cookie slowly, absorbing the incredible flavor of a freshly baked, warm cookie. He’d had cookies before, both before his parents had died as well as at the orphanage, but never homemade cookies. And the idea of a warm cookie just about knocked his socks off. Thinking of that, he hid his left toe behind his right leg, not wanting this beautiful woman to see the hole in the top of his shoe. It wasn’t that Zayn’s mother was wealthy. Both mother and son looked to be just slightly above Angelo’s foster parents in the economic pits in which he lived. It was more that she was kind and lovely, reminding him of the soft hands of his mother who had died and he didn’t like the ache in his belly caused by the memories. He sat at the chipped kitchen table, listening to Zayn talk to his mom, describing his day, discussing the teacher and the different subjects. It felt good to simply sit here in this clean but tiny kitchen, listening to the three of them make small talk. Angelo remembered coming home from school before his parents had died. He’d sat in the kitchen, talking with his own mother while she prepared dinner for the three of them. Angelo pushed that memory, and so many others, out of his mind. It hurt to remember moments like that. They were gone, killed by a guy who had drank too many beers during lunch, then gotten into a car only to crash into Angelo’s parents on his way home from some business meeting. Angelo had been in school that day. He vividly remembered the police officer trying to explain that his parents had passed away. At the time, it hadn’t made much sense to him, but as the night approached and his mother never arrived to pick him up from the place they’d taken him after school, he started to grasp the meaning of death. Then Zayn’s mother cleared her throat. “Okay boys, get out your homework and start getting it done,” she said firmly. She fluffed Zayn’s hair and cleared away the cookie paraphernalia. Angelo glanced at the other two and saw the identical, sheepish look. “Finished it, already,” he said, thinking that being the first to say it would make him the bravest. The other two both nodded their heads. Zayn’s mother smiled and rolled her eyes. “Okay, why don’t you go down to the library and get some books to read?” Angelo saw the resistance on the other two boys’ faces and cleared his throat. “What’s a library?” he asked, feeling like an idiot and bracing himself to be teased. Amazingly, that didn’t happen. “It’s a place down the street where you can check out books.” It was the first time since his parents had died that he’d received an explanation without someone thinking he was mentally challenged. Angelo shook his head. “No money,” he replied, embarrassed to have to admit something so desperate. That was always the case these days. But someday, some way he would find a way out of ever using that phrase. He looked up, prepared to see pity in the other two boys’ faces. But there was only understanding. The beautiful woman was smiling gently towards them all. “The library is free. As long as you bring the books back on time, you don’t pay anything.” This was a completely new concept to Angelo. Was there really something out there that was free? Did he have to fight for the books? He had no idea, but he didn’t want to ask anything else. He didn’t want to reveal his ignorance with these two new boys that he desperately hoped would become his friends. Angelo saw Dominic’s face and knew that something monumental was about to occur. There was just something about the boy’s eyes that told him his life was about to change. “I have a geometry book,” Dominic whispered and picked up his book bag from the floor. He hesitated, but eventually revealed the precious book to the other two. The three boys hovered over the book, reading the words, teaching each other the amazing new math concepts. It took them three months of conspiring after school and secret meetings on the edge of the playground, but they went through the whole book, absorbing the knowledge about angles and shapes, logic and theorems. Dominic brought it back to Ms. Novak and she gave them more math books, but even better, Angelo discovered the library. Not only was it a wonderfully cool and comfortable place to relax during the hot summer, but it was also heated in the winter. The three of them spent hours in the library after school and on the weekends, plowing through all the books, absorbing knowledge like sponges. When one of them found something interesting, he’d share it with the others. And even better, Angelo discovered science. He thought that chemistry and biology had to be the most fascinating subjects in the world. He couldn’t believe all the things that could happen in nature or how to manipulate what was found in nature to make all new compounds and materials. Eight Years Later… Angelo took in gulping breaths of air as he sprinted around the corner. When he saw Dominic, both men headed towards each other. “Anything?” he asked. Dominic shook his head. “Nothing,” he replied back. Both boys were bent over with their hands braced on their knees as they struggled to catch their breath. This is pretty unusual, since both of them were capable of running for hours to get exercise. On a normal morning, Angelo could easily do a ten mile run before work. “I have someone standing outside his apartment, watching for him,” Angelo said. “It’s like he just disappeared,” Dominic shook his head, astounded that they couldn’t come up with any leads to find Zayn. “No one just disappears like this!” he growled. Officer Moran ran up to where they were trying to catch their breaths and both teens looked up hopefully. “Nothing!” Pete Moran stated with disgust and frustration. “I have all my contacts asking questions. The entire neighborhood knows what you three guys do for all of them and they are all out looking. But no one saw or heard anything. There aren’t any rumors and no one showed up in any of the hospitals or police stations fitting his description. He’s just gone,” Pete said gruffly. The officer looked at them and shook his head. “You boys need to get some rest and eat something. Zayn is going to show up sometime.” He saw the dark circles under Angelo’s eyes and Dominic’s skin looked pale. He suspected that neither of the young men had eaten or slept in the past three days. “I’m going to run through all the check points again,” he said, referring to the places where there might be information about Zayn’s disappearance. Angelo pushed his hands through his hair, fury over his impotence streaming through his veins like lava. “We’ve got to find him,” he said to Dominic. The police officer nodded and walked away, doing all that he could to find their friend. Even the police knew what Angelo, Dominic and Zayn did for the neighborhood. Bags of food showed up mysteriously at someone’s door when someone in the family lost their job or when it was rumored to have been a slow week at work. Diapers were delivered, gallons of milk, medicine, even a lawn mower and a power drill had arrived in the middle of the night, with no one knowing exactly who had delivered them. But everyone suspected that it was these three boys. Pete Moran knew better than others who was behind the good deeds, not to mention the peace in the neighborhood. The police commissioner might have recognized all the police officers on this beat for the dramatic reduction in crime, but those same officers knew that it was mostly due to these three boys. With one of them missing, it was a moral imperative to find Zayn and ensure he was safe. Not to mention that Angelo and Dominic were going to kill themselves trying to find their friend if something didn’t break. Thirteen hours later, Angelo sat in the park, his body aching from the brutal pace he’d put it through recently. But every time he started to slow down, he thought about Zayn and all the ways his friend had helped him over the years. Angelo had to keep going. He’d lost his parents, there was no way in hell he was going to lose his friend. Dominic fell onto the seat next to him. “Still nothing!” Angelo was just about to call his contacts again when his cell phone vibrated. He lifted it and stared at the unknown phone number. Before he pressed the “accept” button, he nudged Dominic with his elbow, then put the caller on speaker phone. “Hello?” he spoke, his voice angry and determined, thinking this might be a person calling about Zayn. If they wanted ransom money, he had just over a million dollars in assets he could pull together. He suspected Dominic had about the same, so somehow they would get their friend back, even if he had to empty his bank account to do it. “Angelo?” Zayn’s voice came back to them. Angelo glanced at Dominic, wondering if he was hearing things. “Zayn? Is that you?” he asked, his whole body tensing, afraid this was some sort of cruel joke. “Yeah. It’s me. I’m guessing Dominic is right beside you, isn’t he?” Angelo closed his eyes in relief. If the caller with the familiar voice knew that Dominic would be with him, this was definitely their friend. The three of them knew each other so well. “Yeah, Dominic’s here,” Angelo replied. Dominic laughed, thrilled with the voice. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded, leaning towards the phone as if he could somehow get closer to their missing “brother”. “You’re not going to believe it,” Zayn replied. And for the next ten minutes, Angelo and Dominic listened, asked questions and sorted through the mystery of Zayn’s disappearance. “So you’re a sheik?” Angelo asked, amusement in his voice. “What’s that like?” Zayn growled, his frustration apparent. “I’m coming back there. I just have to figure out how.” Dominic and Angelo both shook their heads. “Sound like you have a responsibility.” Both young men laughed heartily, both relieved that their friend was safe but more than ready to tease him about his new position in the world. That night, Angelo laid in bed, exhausted from days of frantically searching for Zayn but his brain still unable to shut down. He stared at the ceiling of his new apartment, feeling once again satisfied that his world was right. He thought about Debbie, the woman he’d been seeing before Zayn had disappeared. But the thought of seeking her out didn’t stir him as much as it should. She’d only been dating him as a status symbol. She was now considered a brave woman. Not only did she approach Angelo, she tempted him into her bed. He sighed and rolled over, punching his pillow in frustration. With Zayn’s whereabouts confirmed, why was he so restless? He was poised to top two million dollars this year and had plans already in place for more growth of his relatively tiny company, his friends were whole and hardy, he had women throwing themselves at him…why was he so….impatient? The Tycoon’s Defiant Southern Belle Chapter 1 The glare of the flashlight could barely cut through the heavy darkness. Was it possible that the night was thicker here in this house? The beautiful, Spanish style mansion was rumored to be haunted and as Jade walked through the long, spooky hallways, she understood how the eerie rumors could have evolved. There was an unnerving, mysterious presence here. Something that just didn’t feel normal. Jade shook off the feeling, thinking she was being ridiculous. There was no such thing as ghosts or spirits or anything like that. Just a stubborn, obnoxious cat that continuously seemed to be running away lately. “Jasper! Where are you?” She wasn’t sure why she was whispering since the house had been vacant for several decades. “I swear you’re not getting any peanut butter for a week!” She froze as a strange, ominous sound came to her. Was that laughter? Or was it just her imagination? She felt her heart rate increase, her blood pounding in her veins and fear started to clog her throat. Impossible! No one had lived in this house for decades! She was just imagining things. Jade shivered again, wishing she were back in her comfortable cottage instead of here in this dark, cold, creepy place. No matter how fascinated she was with the house during the daylight hours, she couldn’t deny that something abnormal was here right now. There was a sense of….something alive. And despite the heat of the day, the house felt freezing! How in the world could a house be cold in the middle of summer? It had been over ninety degrees today! But inside this house, her bare arms were covered with goose bumps from the strange temperature. She continued through the house, but her steps faltered when she saw the peculiar glow coming from the main living area. Her body froze, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what the light could be. Fire? Her heart skipped a beat at the idea of the beautiful place being destroyed by the merciless talons of fire. Her pace picked up as she hurried down the long hallway, her mind frantically trying to figure out a way to stop the fire, if it really was a blaze. Despite her constant reassurances that there were no such things as ghosts, in the back of her mind, she couldn’t stop the possibility from creeping up on her. The cold, the darkness, the odd light…they all roused her imagination, terrifying her as the adrenaline suddenly surged through her body. She couldn’t slow down, she couldn’t stop! Jasper was in here somewhere and this gorgeous house couldn’t be destroyed by fire! No, it just couldn’t! “Talk to me Jasper. What’s going on?” she called out, knowing in her mind that the cat couldn’t talk. It still made her feel better to say the words, to hear her voice as it echoed against the vacant hallway. She skidded to a halt in the doorway of the great room, her eyes scanning the area. The first thing she saw was the fire. There truly was a fire and it was enormous, but thankfully, it was contained within a massive, stone fireplace with beautiful tiles surrounding the floor, making the glow actually shine upwards and reflect off of the ceiling and as she took it all in, she realized that the ceiling was painted in some amazing mural with cherubs dancing in the clouds. But only a portion of that part of the scene broke through her consciousness since every cell in her mind and body was focused on one thing. And it wasn’t the fire. There was a very large, very scary man sitting in the wing-back chair. Or was he a man? Was he even human? There was a darkness that surrounded this man that had nothing to do with the night wrapping around the outer glow of the fire. As she stared, she knew that the darkness wasn’t caused by the tight, black shirt and black pants. It wasn’t even the black hair or the man’s eyes that were shaded somehow even though the fire seemed to be illuminating all the other hard planes of his face. And it wasn’t the being’s enormous size, although that definitely contributed. As she halted just inside the large, elaborately decorated room, she stared at the person sitting in the old, wing-back chair, her eyes taking in every detail, her lips parting with amazement and her body shivering, but this time for a completely different reason. No, there was something dark about this man, something….broken. Something painfully sad. Jade didn’t know what it was that told her that but she knew it with a deep down instinct that reached out to her and squeezed her heart. And then her eyes moved downward and she caught the large, elegant hands gently caressing her cat. “Jasper!” she admonished with a hint of nervousness in her voice. Angelo had heard the footsteps approaching but didn’t bother to get up. With the cat purring away on his lap, he listened carefully to the tread of the steps coming down the hallway to his new home. He wasn’t overly concerned about whoever had invaded the reputedly haunted, almost destroyed house. With the fire burning in the fireplace and the fur covered feline on his lap, he simply relaxed against the cushions of the relatively comfortable chair and waited, wondering who might have the courage to enter this building at night. He’d heard the stories about the ghosts, knew that the rumors plus the overgrown gardens, broken concrete and shattered windows generally kept people away. There was a peculiar essence to this place that helped incite one’s imagination towards the macabre. Besides, the steps approaching the great room were soft, too light to be a danger. An intruder would have to be pretty big to concern Angelo since he was a large man himself, a fact which had terrified others in the past. Or was it the look in his eyes, the one that warned people to stay away? Either way, he wasn’t overly concerned about whoever was coming towards him. It simply broke the monotony of the night and pulled his black gaze away from the fire as he awaited whoever was coming down the hallway to appear. He had to chuckle when the soft, feminine voice chided the cat, threatening him with punishment but had she really told the cat that he wouldn’t get peanut butter? Angelo wasn’t sure that peanut butter was the best thing for animals, but what did he know? Except for his two best friends, Zayn and Dominic, he pretty much kept to himself out of necessity. And perhaps habit. As the woman approached, Angelo was astounded by how soft and round her delectable body was, but slender and adorable in all the right places. His eyes took in her lush, full breasts and her slender, sleek arms. She was short, he could see, but her legs were long and strong but still feminine. His mind instantly pictured those legs around his waist, his interest increasing tenfold as she stood there staring at him. And why the hell was she wandering around at night in that outfit? Her camisole was thin with just those spindly spaghetti straps to hold everything in place while her draw string pants were soft and loose, resting low on her hips. There was even a small gap between where the camisole ended and the pants began, showing him her lean, flat stomach. Jade suddenly realized that she was staring and her conscience broke through her fascination with the tall, gorgeous and definitely dangerous stranger. She shook her head, but her eyes remained wide as her mind took in the details of the sad but strikingly attractive man. “Goodness!” Jade exclaimed as she came closer, pushing her irrational fear aside. The man had been in shadows but as she approached to retrieve Jasper and introduce herself to her new neighbor, she was stunned by the man as he became clearer to her. “I’m so sorry that Jasper intruded on your night,” she said, but the sound came out as a whisper, her mind freezing at the astounding strength and breadth of his arms and shoulders, slowly revealed as her eyes adjusted to the light. Her eyes rose slowly, taking in all of the man including the bulging muscles revealed by the black material stretched to its limit across broad shoulders and muscular arms, his long legs extended out in front of him and those shoulders! Gracious, they stretched across the width of the chair. The man wasn’t just large like some of the other men she knew. This man was massive! She took a deep breath, forcing her eyes to stop looking at the man and introduce herself. But as soon as her eyes lifted to the man’s, she felt a jolt, something almost electrifying and very uncomfortable. Those eyes! There was heat and interest and….amusement? And then her own eyes adjusted to the man’s dark image. “Angelo Donati,” she gasped, finally recognizing the dangerous man who was slowly buying up all the pharmaceutical companies in the area. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. Angelo’s black eyebrows went up when this tiny, interestingly beautiful woman recognized him. “Have we met before?” asked, standing up and allowing Jasper, the traitor, to climb up onto his shoulders. Angelo supposed he’d been in the news recently due to his last few acquisitions. But he’d thought he could be a bit more anonymous here in this small, sleepy beach town. He supposed, with all the controversy lately due to his management changes, it would be hard to remain anonymous. Too many people in this area worked for the companies he’d just acquired. Jade watched with reluctant fascination as the enemy’s long, sensuous fingers started scratching her cat’s ears. Her body tingled with awareness and she wondered what it would be like for those fingers to be touching her body instead of her cat’s. Would he be gentle? Would he be kind and considerate? Or would he take what he wanted? Making her want it as well, just like he was doing with all the businesses in the area? She shook herself mentally, refusing to admit that she was more fascinated than scared of this man. He wasn’t a man to be trifled with, she reminded herself. Even Dan was worried about his job after Mr. Donati’s latest management sweep had left several of the vice presidents looking for other employment. Of course, Dan had been complaining about several of those executives’ decisions lately, but Jade wasn’t sure if those decisions had been bad or just not what Dan wanted. Either way, she was being rude by simply staring. She chided herself for not being more gracious. She was a southern lady, after all. It was her duty as a neighbor to welcome the man, even if she might not like him or agree with his brutal, merciless business tactics. “My name is Jade Phillips and I’ve lived on Sullivan’s Island for more than sixteen years. It’s very nice to meet you,” she said, reaching out and extending her hand politely. And then she messed it all up by saying, “Why are you buying up all the businesses in the area? What’s so enticing about these companies that you can’t just find another town to own?” Angelo almost laughed with delight as the woman in front of him sparkled with anger and passion. Angelo took her hand in his, amazed at how small her bones felt and how…alluring her entire being was. He knew should back off, maybe even explain his plans. But there was something about this woman that pushed a button inside of him. He wouldn’t even release her hand and, what’s worse, he wanted to see her bristle even more. She was absolutely fascinating! “Perhaps I’m just an evil man who is intent on buying up the world.” She was shaking with anger already, glaring up at him but the horrid man didn’t seem to care that he was incurring her wrath. In the back of her mind, she realized that her anger seemed disproportionately intense, seeing as how she’d just met the man a moment ago and he probably had legitimate reasons for the way he ran his business. None of that seemed to matter at the moment and she couldn’t seem to back down. Then again, his taunting words caused her anger to only deepen. “That seems like such a horrible thing to say and I don’t believe it for a moment.” She wanted desperately to stomp away, get away from this man completely but he still had Jasper on his shoulder. “May I have my cat please?” she asked, not sure exactly what to do if he refused. “By all means,” he said, but stood there, waiting. This woman was fascinating, he thought. Most women considered him too dangerous to taunt or even confront. He always suspected that women approached him more on a dare than physical attraction. He took what they offered, but none of them had ever touched him beyond a mild sense of satisfaction. Not the way this woman was doing by just standing in front of him not cowering in fear. She didn’t even realize that he was still holding her hand in his and he wasn’t inclined to break that contact. His thumb caressed the amazingly soft, tender skin of her hand while his long finger gently touched the underside of her wrist, feeling the rapid pulse and his body reacted instantly. “Why is it that you don’t want me to buy up the businesses?” he asked softly when she didn’t reach up to retrieve her cat. He stepped closer to her, releasing her hand but only to take her arm so he could lead her down the long hallway. “I’ll walk you home and you can tell me all about your own plans for the town.” Jade didn’t like the sound of amusement in his voice. “What makes you think that I have plans for the town?” Angelo chuckled, a deep, rusty sound. He seldom laughed. He rarely found anything in life amusing. As he’d grown up, he’d discovered the hard way that life wasn’t fair or fun. Life was hard. One had to fight, scrape and claw to maintain one’s hold on one’s assets. He never laughed at life, one approached life as if it were a war with every battle mercilessly fought. At least until this prickly beauty walked into his life. “I supposed I can just sense these things about people,” he came back. He leaned down to open the door for her, ignoring the claws from the cat as the fluffy animal dug into his skin to maintain his balance on his shoulder. Jade shivered as his warm hand touched her upper arm, feeling that same electric current spark down her spine and leaving a tingling sensation all over her body. He had a point, she supposed. And it was true about her own plans for the town. If she had her way, everyone would just stay put and life would carry on exactly as it had been ever since she and her mother had moved to Sullivan Island in South Carolina fifteen years ago. “I don’t have a plan, necessarily,” she said and walked out of the house. Initially, she was relieved to be out of the house and back in the humid, night air. But that was before they reached the edge of the patio. She was just about to carefully step down but then he grabbed her around the waist and effortlessly lifted her off of the crumbling patio to the weed-choked grass below, leaving her gasping in surprise, her hands grabbing onto those hard, fascinating muscles in his upper arms. It took her a long moment to re-gather her thoughts after that. “But…” she said, wondering why he was looking down at her like that. “Um….It’s just that, everyone here was doing fine until you came along and started buying up all the businesses.” “I am only interested in pharmaceutical companies and patent holders. There are several very strong, very good companies in this area that are being underutilized. What’s the harm in building up the local economy?” Jade shook her head, knowing that the man wasn’t being completely honest. Walking through the forest, she tried to focus only on her anger with this man’s brutal business tactics and not on how large or muscular he was. She wasn’t the type of woman to be interested in bulky men. She preferred substance! “You’re not just buying up local companies. You’re buying up companies all over the United States and meshing them all into one, large, homogeneous group.” He waited for her to continue, his hand reaching out to steady her when her foot caught in one of the rotting logs. “And what’s the problem with that?” he asked. Jade huffed as she stepped around several more fallen trees, not wanting the man to touch her any more. Her mind went blank and it was hard to argue when one couldn’t remember what one was arguing about. “They aren’t individual companies any longer. They aren’t competing with each other and pushing to find the next best thing in health care. You’re buying up too many companies, Mr. Donati.” “Perhaps I have other ways to induce competition.” She let out a guffaw that sounded too loud in the intimate night air. “I’d like to see that happen. And what are your plans for your new house?” she demanded as she stepped into her own yard filled with her moonlit gardens. Turning to face him now that the threat of embarrassing herself over a tumble had diminished. “You’re probably going to tear that down and build a string of cookie-cutter houses, aren’t you?” Angelo wondered what she would do if he bent down and kissed her. He liked her fire and her courage. Hell, he liked a whole lot about her, he thought. No one had ever challenged what he did before. Even Dominic and Zayn, who were his best friends since childhood, never questioned what he did. Of course, they understood the financial reasons behind his decisions. And most likely approved since they had similar strategies in their business dealings. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night and we’ll discuss the possibilities,” he told her. Jade was stunned by the invitation. Of all the things he might have said at that moment, offering her dinner seemed way down on the list of possibilities. “I don’t think so,” she came back. “I don’t...” He leaned forward slightly. “Careful, Jade. If you don’t want me to tear down the house you’re so in love with, perhaps you should meet with me and try to change my plans.” He waited a heartbeat before he said, “Or are you all talk and no action?” His body responded instantly to the flare of anger he caught in her eyes. “Or maybe you don’t have the courage to take on my house.” He hadn’t been planning to renovate the house, but at the look of surprise and hope in her eyes, he suddenly decided that it would be a perfect idea. “What do you mean?” He reached out and touched her cheek, his finger skimming along her earlobe. He caught the shiver of awareness that zipped through her and smiled. “Dinner tomorrow. My place at seven o’clock, Jade.” With that, he tapped the bannister of her tiny, wooden deck and Jasper quickly crawled down his arm and snuck in through the dog’s door, his tail twitching as if to say that he’d done his work for the night. “Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll be there. I’m not afraid of you.” She glared up at him, wishing he weren’t so tall and scary looking. Angelo’s hand moved down her neck, the pad of his thumb resting on her racing pulse. “If you’re not afraid of me, then you must be attracted to me.” Jade gasped, shocked by his words. Unfortunately, by the time she could think up an appropriately scathing reply, the man had disappeared into the dense trees that separated their properties. Chapter 2 Jade couldn’t believe how unproductive her day had been. By six o’clock, she was actually reduced to glaring at the clock, daring it to move forward. And when it actually clicked over to six-oh-one, her head dropped to her drafting table with a thud. “I am NOT going to dinner with that man,” she told herself. “I don’t care if he steam rolls the property and builds a parking lot on top of it.” She sat up and spun around in her chair, scowling at Rufus, her dog, as he tilted his head at her exclamation. “Okay, so I’m lying!” she admitted to him. “But I’m still not going to have dinner with him tonight!” She’d picked up her phone to call him several times throughout the day to tell him that, but each time, she’d remember that she didn’t know his phone number. Which was why she was sitting here, glaring at inanimate objects, pretending like they could stop simply because she willed them to do so. Jasper would have to pick that moment to jump up onto the bed right next to Rufus. The darned cat just stared back at her and Jade knew with absolute conviction that he only wanted to be fed, but she interpreted the look on his face to be a direct challenge for her to get ready for a night with the tall, dangerous man. “Don’t you dare get into this argument,” she told the cat. Jasper’s only response was to twitch his tail, demonstrating his irritation with both her admonishment as well as her tardiness in putting food in his bowl. She stomped off into the bathroom and showered, but only because she was hot and sweaty. A shower would cool her down and it had nothing to do with getting ready for a date. Besides, even if she were going to meet him for dinner, it definitely wouldn’t be a date. It would simply be a business meeting. A time when she could try and convince him to leave her town alone. She didn’t want things to change. Change was bad. She’d had enough change in her life and she was happy with the way things were. Her hands froze in her hair, suds streaking down her back as she heard those words in her mind. “A business meeting?” No, she wasn’t even going to talk with him about his new house. The man was going to do what he wanted with the house. He was callous enough to fire people left and right which indicated that he didn’t have a great deal of compassion for human beings. Everything was reduced down to profit. Why had she thought for even a moment that she could convince him to stop his rampage through her perfect, little city? If the man were intent on destroying her town, what could she do to stop him? Rufus added his two cents in with a bark from the bathroom doorway. The noise startled her out of her mental arguments enough to realize that Rufus only barked when something was going on that he didn’t like. Jade’s eyes slashed over to the doorway and she gasped when she saw the tall man standing there watching her. She frantically grabbed the towel off of the hook beside the shower, her eyes shooting daggers at him. “What are you doing here in my house?” she demanded, trying to cover herself up and turn off the water while at the same time, keep the soap out of her eyes. “Damn you! Look what you’re making me do!” Angelo chuckled, mesmerized by her lush curves that were all warm and rosy from the hot shower. “What did I do? I’m standing over here in the doorway.” She stomped her foot, irritated that he was being so obtuse. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, pushing a dollop of bubbles out of her eyes. “In my house!” she clarified. “I came by to make sure you were coming to dinner tonight. I suspected that you would wimp out on me.” She gritted her teeth and glared right back. “I still haven’t decided if I’m going or not. I don’t need the business and I certainly don’t think I need the irritation of you as a client.” She simply couldn’t believe she was talking to a potential client like this. Not to mention, speaking to a man like Angelo Donati, male extraordinaire, while in her shower wearing only a towel and bubbles to protect her from his too-knowing gaze, neither of which were doing a very good job of hiding her nakedness from him. “Would you mind getting out of my bathroom?” she demanded, her fist holding the towel around her carefully since it was in jeopardy of falling down. “What’s wrong with me in your bathroom? I’ve seen a naked woman before.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, appearing as if he were relaxed and ready to look at her body for the rest of the night. She couldn’t believe his gall! “A gentleman would remove himself and go wait in the living room,” she growled out with a pretend smile, shooting daggers at him. Of course, a gentleman wouldn’t have entered her house in the first place. His response was a slow, sexy smile, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “A gentleman wouldn’t have even come into your bathroom. So I guess that means I’m definitely not a gentleman.” “Pretend!” she almost yelled at him. Angelo was so charmed by her anger that he threw back his head and laughed. But he did as she commanded, leaving the bathroom but he didn’t close the door. His gentlemanly instincts, as narrow as they were, didn’t bring him to that level of selflessness. He stepped back into her bedroom, smiling when he heard the bathroom door slam shut with a click of the lock. He didn’t mind though. As long as that door was closed, he could roam about her house, discover more about her. And wouldn’t that infuriate her even more! What an appealing thought. He strolled over to her closet and sifted through her clothes, pulling out one after another of her dresses, discarding almost all of them until he came to a red chiffon in a wraparound style. He loved this style on women. The neckline always plunged, hugging a woman’s breasts and showing just enough cleavage to be enticing and yet still trying to appear demure. He added a red, lace thong that he discovered in her drawer and a pretty, red lace bra that was barely anything at all. Yes, he thought as he laid all three items out on her bed, the woman would look stunning in this dress. And without it, he thought with relish. When the shower shut off, he walked over to her bathroom door and knocked. “I have your outfit ready for you,” he said through the silence. Jade simply could not believe the audacity of the man! “You went through my closet?” she demanded, fury rising up to almost choke off the words. “And your drawers,” he replied, aware that his amusement was coming out in his tone. “You have some lovely underwear, Jade. I approve of your choices. So open up and I’ll hand these in to you.” Jade couldn’t believe what she was hearing! The blush that stole up her cheeks when she realized that the man had gone through her underwear was almost painful, heating her face and making her fan herself with the towel. “Get out of my room, Mr. Donati.” “Call me Angelo, and open the door so I can hand these to you.” “Just get out,” she snapped. “I’ll choose my own outfit.” “That’s not going to work. You’ll probably pick one of those horrible flowered pieces and those will look ridiculous on you.” Jade’s mouth fell open with horror. She’d actually been thinking of exactly that – a pretty flowered dress with a high neckline that would show him that she was a lady and not a trollop to be messed with. “I’ll choose my own outfit as soon as you get out of my bedroom.” “I’m not getting out. So you can either open the door and grab these items now, or I can open the door and watch while you choose something else. But I reserve veto power over your selection.” Angelo realized that he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. If ever. Jade closed her eyes, praying for patience. She wasn’t about to step out of this bathroom without clothes. It took her several more seconds to finally make the decision to reach out and get the clothes he was offering. But she gripped her towel around her carefully, ignoring the spark of excitement at the idea of him seeing her like this. She was just about to slam the door shut, the red dress and underwear in her hand when his palm pressed against the door. She was gently, but firmly, pushed back so that his head and those enormous shoulders were in the steam filled room. “By the way, Jade, you have an incredible figure.” He waited for the predictable but still delightful blush before he continued, “Don’t be ashamed to show it off a bit more.” His Captive Lover - An Introduction Ash’s Story… “Hold up,” Ash said to his friend, putting a hand in front of him to stop any movement. Jeremy stilled, looking back at Ash. When they were silent for a long moment, Jeremy shifted impatiently. “What’s wrong?” Ash tilted his head slightly. “Don’t you hear it?” Jeremy listened for another long moment. “Hear what?” he asked. He heard only the sounds of the grasshoppers chirping in the weeds and the occasional tree frog. The heat of the sunshine was beating down on their heads, causing sweat to roll down Jeremy’s back, making him eager to get home and back into air conditioning. Ash wiped his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, then was still again. A moment later he said, “There!” and listened. “Did you hear that?” Ash didn’t wait for Jeremy’s response but moved off to the left. He ignored the possibility of snakes and other biting critters, following a sound that, apparently, only he could hear. “Can’t you hear that?” he asked, assuming Jeremy was right behind him. He hurried in the direction of the sound. Jeremy was startled to hear the slight mewling sound and his heartbeat picked up. “Yeah. Now I do.” Both boys hurried towards the sound, racing through the underbrush and pushing aside branches in their hurry to find the source of the sound. After running through the brush, the sound became louder, the whimpering sounds more heart-rending. “Look!” Ash said, pointing towards a hole in the ground where a small, furry head was poking out. “He’s hurt!” Jeremy shook his head in amazement. sound,” he said to Ash. “Only you would’ve heard that Ash dropped to his knees and started digging, trying to loosen the limb that had fallen on the dog that was obviously scared and in pain. “Can you find a stick? Maybe that will help us dig him out.” Jeremy immediately handed Ash a stick and the two boys slowly dug the dog out of the hole. When the heavy branch was finally pushed off of the scruffy dog’s hind legs, they discovered that the poor animal was more hurt than they’d expected. It was a mangy mutt with blood on the fur of both his ears and the skin obviously torn up on the leg that had been trapped. “We need to get him to a vet,” Ash said, immediately taking off his shirt to cradle the dog. “It’s okay, boy. We’ll take care of you,” he soothed, stroking his head and neck to try and give the animal some reassurance. The dog looked up at Ash adoringly, but with pain in his eyes. He whimpered a bit more when Ash got behind him, but didn’t make a sound as they carried him out of the woods and down the street to the only veterinarian’s office they knew of. As Ash moved as quickly as he could with his hands full with the wounded canine, Jeremy raced ahead, burst into the clinic, and held the door open. “Can you help us?” Ash asked the receptionist. He tried to hide his anxiety with a façade of toughness, because boys were supposed to be tough and strong, not worried. “We found him in the woods over by the school and he’s pretty badly hurt.” The young-looking receptionist quickly picked up the desk phone and called the vet, who came rushing out from a swinging door. The doctor, a man in his late fifties with thick glasses and a grandfatherly beard, looked at the dog and nodded. “Bring him back here,” he said. Ash laid the wounded animal on the metal table, then stepped back. When the dog whimpered again, the vet turned around to see what was going on. “He seems to trust you. Can you come closer while I get things ready? Just keep your hands on him so he can sniff your scent.” Ash immediately moved closer, rubbing the wiry fur on the dog’s ears until the poor animal calmed down. “Okay, step back now. We need to give him a shot to help him with the pain, but I don’t want the dog associating you with the pain. So let us hold him down for a moment, then you can come closer. Okay?” Ash nodded, feeling angry for whatever had happened to this obviously neglected dog. No living thing deserved to be put through this. And the more he thought about it, the more the hole where he’d found the animal looked like something someone had dug on purpose. The idea that someone had done this deliberately infuriated him even more. “There,” the vet said, laying a soothing hand on the dog’s head, scratching his ears gently. “He should be numb from the pain in just a moment. Why don’t you wait in here until he falls asleep, then go wait outside in the waiting room while we fix him up.” Ash nodded slowly, his hands gently ruffling the fur on the dog’s head, ears and back. When the dog’s eyes closed, Ash bent down low, whispering in the animal’s ear, “Don’t worry fella. We’ll take care of you.” The vet nodded with a warm, reassuring smile, indicating that Ash and his friend should head outside. Ash paced back and forth in the waiting room, his mind going over all the problems the dog might encounter over the next few weeks because of this injury. And that brought to mind the image of his mother, who probably wouldn’t approve of bringing another animal home. He had a tendency to find strays but, in his defense, Ash had found good homes for each of the animals. Besides, he couldn’t leave the poor animal here. He’d have to take it home. Surely his mother would understand this time. His cell phone rang and he looked down at the window, cringing when he saw his mother’s phone number come up. “Hi Mom,” he said. “I know I’m late for dinner but I have a problem.” He finished explaining all of it, relieved when she told him to stay with the dog. He sighed with relief at her words and comforting reassurance that she’d keep his dinner warm for him. As he hung up the phone, he smiled with relief. His mom had endured many trials raising four boys, and this wasn’t going to be one of them, Ash promised himself mentally. Twenty minutes later, the doors to the clinic swung open and Ash almost laughed when his three older brothers walked in, one of them carrying a small plastic container. “Mom told you what’s going on?” he asked. Ryker handed him the container which held his dinner of meatloaf, potatoes and broccoli. “Mom says you have to eat the broccoli.” In true brotherly solidarity, Xander simply took the container and popped the broccoli into his mouth then handed it back to Ash. “All eaten,” he said, then clapped his brother on the arm. Ash was relieved. He absolutely hated broccoli, while Xander didn’t mind the repulsive vegetable. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you had a date with Emily,” he said to Axel. Axel shrugged his already broad shoulders and smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye appearing. “I told her what’s going on. Now I’m her hero since I won’t abandon the dog.” Ash rolled his eyes, chuckling at his brother’s genius. “Good angle.” Axel’s grin was huge. “I thought so. That’s why I’m here. All the girls will be fawning over me tomorrow when they hear about this.” Ash snorted in disbelief. Axel might be saying he was here for the attention, but Ash knew better. The four of them might fight about everything from the last glass of milk to the front seat of the car, but when a problem came up, they were a solid wall of support. Xander pushed him out of the way as only a brother could do. “How’s the dog? And where did you find him?” “Over behind that old abandoned barn near the school,” Ash explained. Jeremy had already left, his mother demanding that he come home, so it was great that his brothers had arrived to help with the vigil. The vet came out at that point, wiping his hands on his scrubs. “The dog’s going to be okay. He’s going to need antibiotics for a while, but he was in relatively good health so the wound won’t put him back too far.” Ash swallowed, relieved for the good news. Then he squared his shoulders, bracing himself for the tough question. “How much is it going to cost?” he asked, nervous because he only had the money he earned mowing lawns. He and his brothers worked each Saturday around the neighborhood mowing the grass of several neighbors, trimming their bushes, and weeding out the gardens. The vet hesitated. “I gather this isn’t your dog, correct?” he asked. Ash shook his head warily. “No. My friend and I found him this afternoon.” “How about if I throw in my cost for free and you guys pay for the medicine? Will that work out for you?” Ash blew out the breath he’d been holding. “Sounds great, Doc. How much will the medicine cost?” The vet named a price and Ash nodded. “Can I pay you half now and half in a few weeks?” “No need,” Axel said from behind Ash. “Here,” he said and plunked down his own handful of money. That was the same amount that Ash had. Ash spun around and shook his head. “You can’t do that. You have homecoming with Emily next week.” Axel punched Ash’s arm. “I’ll get Dad to drive us,” he said. Ryker and Xander both smacked their money down. “Here’s our share,” Xander said firmly. Ash took a deep breath, swallowing the lump of emotion that welled up. He was grateful for these three guys. He knew he’d still get a pounding about whatever was coming around the corner, because that’s what brothers do. He’d probably even deserve it, because he loved annoying his brothers on a regular basis. It was chaos central with all of them teasing and playing tricks on each other. “Thanks,” he said, bowing his head slightly until he got himself back under control. The vet counted out some of the money, then handed the rest back to the boys. “This will cover it,” he said with admiration tinging his tone. “Let me keep him here overnight. Can you come back tomorrow?” Mia’s Story…. “If you multiply these two numbers,” Mia explained, looking up at Josh to see if he understood, “then you can…” she stopped, sitting back in her chair. “Josh, you’re not paying attention to the paper.” The smile he bestowed upon Mia made her skin crawl. “I think you’re one of the prettiest girls in school. How about if we go to the school dance together this weekend?” he suggested. Mia wanted to laugh when Josh tilted his head and shoulders slightly, as if he were trying to look like a movie actor. Unfortunately, it only made him look silly. “I already have plans this weekend,” she told him. “And if you don’t learn this algebra, you’re not going to be able to play in the game Friday night.” Josh chuckled. “They won’t take me out of the game,” he replied with complete confidence. “We’re playing to get in first place.” Mia tried hard not to roll her eyes, but it was a strain. “So you’re saying that the coach will ignore your failing grade simply so he can win the state championship?” “Absolutely,” he said with a laugh. “They need me.” He paused and leaned forward, pasting what he probably thought was a charming smile onto his handsome features. But to Mia’s mind, it just looked smug. She really hated smug men. “Josh, don’t you want to learn this stuff just for your own education?” she asked him carefully. “I mean, this is really basic stuff. People use this formula on a daily basis.” “Not when we’re playing football,” he replied with a laugh. “So how about it? Come to the dance with me? We can celebrate winning the game together.” “I already have plans.” She turned the notebook towards him. “Why don’t you try number six on your own?” Josh looked down at the paper, barely even acknowledging the algebra problem. “After you agree to go to the dance with me.” Mia bit her lip, trying to come up with a way to get him to concentrate. “How about this,” she offered. “If you’ll get an A on Thursday’s algebra test, I’ll go to the game and cheer you on.” He made a rude sound and shook his head. “You never come to the games,” he argued. “Exactly. So this would be huge, right?” “Would you really go?” he asked, his eyes bright with hope. “You wouldn’t understand what was going on, so you might not enjoy it.” She considered that, trying to figure out what would motivate him. “Then let’s do a trade.” She watched his eyes and knew that she’d captured his attention. “You figure out algebra today. If you get an A on Thursday’s test, then Thursday afternoon you can teach me the fundamentals of football and I’ll go to the game on Friday night. Is it a deal?” she asked. Josh considered her proposal carefully. “Will you cheer for me when I make every touchdown?” he clarified. She smiled brightly, realizing in that moment that she’d won. “I’ll scream so loud, you’ll be able to hear me on the field.” His eyes brightened even more. “It’s a deal,” he told her. “Let’s do this!” He actually leaned forward then and focused on what she was telling him. It took another hour and a half but he finally figured out how to do the problems. She worked with him about how to catch simple mistakes, different ways to check his work and even went on to the next chapter which built on the current concepts. By the time Thursday afternoon rolled around, she was a nervous wreck! She had calculus first thing in the morning while Josh had algebra during the last period. By the time the last bell rang, she was hopping from one foot to the next, nervous about how Josh’s test went. His coach had already spoken to Josh’s algebra teacher, letting him know that Josh couldn’t play in the game Friday night if he didn’t pass the test. Josh had been stunned when the coach had backed up the school board policy of all athletes needing a B average in all classes to participate in school activities. So he was pretty nervous as well. Mia stood outside Josh’s classroom, while Josh stood beside his algebra teacher’s desk, watching as his test was graded. When the teacher handed Josh the test back and Josh bowed his head, Mia’s heart broke. She felt horrible and tried to figure out what he could have done wrong. She’d thought he’d really learned the concepts, so she berated herself for not doing something differently, not helping him in a way that he’d understood. He walked out of the room and Mia didn’t know what to do to make him feel better. “Josh, I’m so sorry,” she said, laying a hand on his arm to comfort him. And then he looked up at her, his grin widening. A fraction of a second later, he lifted her into his arms and spun her around. “I got an A minus!” he crowed, thrilled with his test results. “Now you have to go to the game!” Mia’s jaw dropped and she glanced back at the math teacher who was chuckling in the classroom doorway. “Really? Let me see!” she said, pushing against his broad shoulders so she could check the work herself. As she looked at the paper, her heart soared. “You really did it!” she said and hugged him. “This is awesome!” Josh preened, proud of himself for the results. “Now you have to learn about football,” he said and took her hand, pulling her out of the school. He waved to his algebra teacher, the test still in his hand. “Come on. You’ve got a lot to learn.” Thirty-six hours later, Mia was in the stands, wrapped up in a sweater and scarf as she screamed her head off. Josh was grinning from ear to ear as he tossed the football to the referee from the end zone. He looked up at Mia, saluting her as he moved over to the sidelines. Mia and her friends high-fived each other, then settled down to watch the end of the game. Mia felt like she was in a bubble of happiness as she continued to watch the game, explaining third down conversions, pass interference, or interceptions to anyone who would listen. His Captive Lover Autumn looked at the list, her eyes casually skimming down the cases. When her eyes caught one name in particular, she looked again, shocked and not believing her eyes. When she looked one more time, she gasped, still not sure she believed that this name was on this particular list. Sure enough, the name hadn’t changed when she refocused. Panic filled her and she looked around, wondering what she could do. This couldn’t be happening! Of all the names that might have popped up on the court’s docket roster, this one was the only one that Autumn never would have expected. “Ash!” she whispered, suddenly knowing exactly what she needed to do. Running down the stairs then through the long hallway, she burst into the office on the left corner. The large, intimidating man sitting behind the steel and glass desk seemed to be the day’s super hero, at least when it came to this impossible situation. “Help!” she cried out as she burst into his office, not even bothering to knock as she normally would. Ash looked up, his black eyebrows rising above his strange, blue eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked of the normally ultra-professional, uber-polite-exceptwhen-a-certain-brother-was-around office manager. She rushed into his office, her eyes wide with an emotion that didn’t make sense on her beautiful features. Ash watched as she hurried around his desk, remaining calm despite Autumn’s panic. “Please, you have to get her out of there!” she rushed over to his desk and slapped the list down in front of him then immediately turned to figure out what he might need to solve this horrible problem. She hurried behind his desk and grabbed the suit jacket that had been draped across the back of his chair, grabbing his hand and sticking it into the sleeve even while he read the paper she’d slapped in front of him seconds ago. Ash looked down at the paper, still remaining calm even while he allowed her to help him into his jacket. “This is a list of the people being arraigned this morning.” He transferred the paper to his other hand, still reading. With practiced coordination, Autumn grabbed the other hand to stuff it into the sleeve, then pushed the jacket onto his enormous shoulders. Autumn didn’t even bother to look at the paper again, too frantic to get the impossibly large man moving. “Correct. The person you’re going to save is the third name down on that list.” She grabbed his briefcase and haphazardly stuffed some papers into it, then looked around to see if there was anything else he might need. Ash looked at the name. “Mia Paulson?” “Yes! You have to go help her!” She ordered him and shoved his leather chair out of the way while she put her hands up on his shoulders, pushing his enormous body around his desk and out the door. She’d never been so bold before, but she didn’t have time to be nice. This was an emergency. Ash stopped moving and turned around to look down into Autumn’s worried, chocolate eyes. “Looks like she’s being arraigned for first degree murder.” Autumn looked up at the man who was the only one who could save her friend. Unfortunately, she had to take a precious moment to explain because Ash was too large and too muscular to move when he didn’t want to. “She’s my best friend and I guarantee that she’s innocent. But more importantly, she’s probably trying to do this all on her own because she naively believes in the justice system and probably thinks her claim of innocence will get her out of this mess.” Autumn was already shaking her head and waving her hands in the air. “There’s no way Mia could have killed anyone. She composts all of her plants. She scoots bugs out of her house instead of stomping on them like a normal person. When we’re walking down the sidewalk, she’ll actually stop and help earthworms get across so they don’t dehydrate in the sunshine and die. So killing a human being is completely outside the realm of possibility. Unfortunately, you’re her only hope and you’ve got to do something!” she explained, her voice rising towards the end as her patience in explaining things to Ash wore thin. There wasn’t time to talk. The court would be in session in just a few minutes so Ash had to hurry and get over to the courthouse now! Ash couldn’t help it. The image of Autumn with her three inch heels and her pencil skirts, her long, dark hair looking so prim and proper walking with someone who helped earthworms and bugs was just amusing and he let out a deep chuckle. “So she’s a saint. But even saints have a breaking point and, when provoked, can kill someone if rage or passion takes over.” “First of all, that wouldn’t be first degree murder, would it? Besides, you’re thinking of normal people like me when I’m talking to your obnoxious brother, Xander. Not Mia! We’ve known each other since elementary school,” she said, gathering up his planner and extra pens, stuffing everything into his case in a haphazard manner. She walked behind him again, trying to shove him out of the office which was impossible unless Ash Thorpe was willing to be pushed. He was simply too big. Thankfully, he allowed himself to be moved along, then pushed out the door. “You have to hurry. She’s being arraigned any minute now and she’s probably terrified. She definitely doesn’t understand the process because she’s a school teacher. The woman doesn’t even have a parking ticket to her name so she has no clue how harsh the justice system can be. She needs you and you have to hurry!” Ash grabbed another file on the way out, shaking his head at the odd situation. “If she’s being charged with murder, where was she at the time of the crime? What is the evidence the police have on her? What’s the motive?” he asked. “I don’t know!” she snapped, pushing him from behind now, picturing her friend’s worried face as she sat in a jail cell with all the other criminals who might hurt her because Mia was such a nice, innocent woman who believed in human kindness. “Stop asking questions and move faster!” she ordered him, completely forgetting that she was the office manager while Ash Thorpe was one of the partners of the illustrious Thorpe Group legal team that consisted of four brilliant brothers who all worked in different areas of the law. Not to mention Ash Thorpe was also the best criminal attorney in the country. People hired Ash from all over the United States to get him to defend them. “Don’t you need your coat?” he asked, looking down at her silk blouse. He rarely saw Autumn without her matching suit jacket. She might take it off in her office, but she slipped it on if she had any reason to step out of her area. They were out in the cool October morning with a definite bite to the air. She shook her head, barely even acknowledging his question in her urgency to get him out the door. “Not now.” She led him over to her small car with a combination of forceful nudges, pulls and racing ahead of him to challenge him to keep up with her. When they finally arrived at her car, she opened the passenger seat and practically pushed him in, ignoring the humor of seeing his large, muscular frame sitting inside her tiny vehicle. At his questioning look, she said, “I’ll drive. You’ll be too slow. We might not make it in time.” He looked at her askance even as he whipped his foot out of the way before she slammed the door on it. “I’m too slow?” he asked with astonishment, but only the dust inside her car heard him since she was almost running around to the driver’s side. He chuckled slightly as he shook his head. No one had ever accused him of being slow. He stepped out of the car and she froze, her wide, chocolate eyes begging him to get back into the car. “Autumn, what’s going on here? I’m never slow and court is almost in session.” She was becoming frustrated with his delays and questions. “Stop messing around! Mia needs your help! You’re the one who always thinks that justice has to be done and here you are just standing here mocking me.” She paused a moment, tears threatening her eyes. “Please, Ash. You’re really the only one I would trust. She’s my best friend and I know she’s terrified right now and probably very confused.” Ash took pity on her and turned serious. Looking at her from across the roof of her car, he smiled reassuringly. Or as soothingly as he could without any knowledge of the situation. “Don’t worry, Autumn. I’ll help your friend. Judge Rooney is on the bench today. If your friend is third on the docket, we still have plenty of time to meet up with her. You can drive and on the way, I’ll call some of my sources and find out what’s going on, get the evidence against her and find out who is prosecuting. confidence. Okay?” he asked with that famous Ash Thorpe She smiled, instantly relieved that he was finally on board with the issue. “Thank you!” she replied. But a moment later, she pointed for him to get back into the car and, even in her rush, gracefully slid in behind the wheel. She ignored Ash as he made some phone calls, only hearing his end of the conversation as she focused on the early morning traffic. Thankfully, The Thorpe Group’s offices were close to the courthouse but downtown Chicago traffic was still obnoxiously difficult. Fifteen minutes later, Autumn swallowed painfully as she pulled into the courthouse parking lot. The expression on Ash’s face scared her more than anything. “What’s wrong?” she asked, parking in one of the empty spaces near the courthouse. “Pretty much everything,” Ash said and opened the car door. All signs of humor and resistance were gone now, replaced by that cold, logical determination that had made him so famous in previous trials. The man certainly loved his job, but when he grasped onto a situation, he was like a pit bull, not stopping for anything until he’d succeeded. “Come on. We have our work cut out for us.” With that, he strode up the steps of the courthouse and worked his way through security. Once he was clear, he and Autumn rushed through the doors of the courtroom. Right before he entered, he touched Autumn’s arm to stop her. Looking down into her worried eyes he said, “Autumn, you need to let me do my job. I know this is your friend, but I’m going to treat her just as I would any other client. I have to in order to get her out of there.” Autumn swallowed, painfully aware that Mia was still waiting. She had no idea what Ash was telling her, but she nodded in agreement. When he started to turn back to enter the courtroom, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. When he was once again looking down at her, she explained the harsh truth to him. “She can’t pay,” Autumn said softly. “I’ll pay your fees. Please, just help her.” Ash sighed, the issue becoming more complicated. Autumn might look professional and tough and she fought his older brother tooth and nail on anything she considered an important issue, not afraid to stand up for what she believed in. But Ash had worked with this woman for several years now. He knew that, deep down inside, Autumn was a soft, sweet, kind person which made her vulnerable to the harshness of life. “And what if she’s guilty?” he asked carefully, needing her to face the possibility. Autumn shook her head. “No. She isn’t. You’ll see. Wait until you meet her before you make a judgment. You’ll know as soon as you look into her eyes. She’s just a thoughtful, gentle person who teaches kids and loves her job and gardens as a hobby. She doesn’t do anything wrong except stand up for the little guy.” Ash looked at her for a long moment. This would be a complicated case and if it weren’t for Autumn’s personal involvement, Ash wouldn’t even take it. It seemed like an open and shut case from what his police source said. The only issue in their favor is that the police hadn’t found the body of the victim yet. He sighed, turning to fully face her so he could ensure that she understood how bad this looked for her friend. “Autumn, there’s an eyewitness that said Mia Paulson and the victim were in a fight the day the victim went missing. The man your friend is accused of killing? It’s her ex-fiancé. Your friend apparently was jilted for another woman.” He shook his head and sighed. “Her fingerprints are even on a piece of evidence that has the victim’s blood on it. It’s an old baseball trophy with one of those heavy bottoms and the police think it is the murder weapon. It’s a pretty tight case for the prosecution. If I were on the jury, I’d vote to convict her without even hearing the prosecution’s arguments.” Autumn’s eyes hardened as she listened to Ash’s recitation of all he’d learned on the drive over here. And it just made her angrier. “If that bastard did this, you make him pay, Ash! Mia wasn’t dumped. She broke up with him. Not only did she get rid of him, but their breakup was a while ago. Mia isn’t mean or petty but she’d discovered some irritating things about her ex-fiancé and broke up with him. He wouldn’t accept the breakup though. He stalked her and drove her nuts. Please, hurry and you’ll see!” she begged. Ash shook his head, wondering why he was even entering into the courtroom under these circumstances. “Autumn, you have to…” She held up her hand to stop him. “If the evidence is that bad against her, then she needs your talents all the more. Please,” she begged once again, “you’re her only hope. You’re the only one I know of that could help her get out of this mess.” Ash sighed and nodded his head. “Just don’t get your hopes up, okay?” Autumn’s bright smile struck him and he wondered why his older brother Xander didn’t do something about his feelings for this woman. Autumn was extremely intelligent, stunningly beautiful and obviously in love with Xander. In Ash’s mind, the two made a perfect couple. And if the sparks flying around the office between the two combatants lately were any indication, there was either going to be a wedding to attend, or a funeral. Although he wasn’t sure which. “Let’s do this,” he said and stepped through the doors. Normally, he would spend time with his clients before their arraignment, find out any extenuating circumstances and get control of the courtroom. But because his new “client” was about to be announced any moment, he didn’t have time for that today. “People versus Mia Paulson, murder in the first degree,” the court clerk at the front of the courtroom announced with his loud, bellowing voice. As always, the courtroom was chaotic and filled with people milling about, attorneys speaking with their clients, family members moving around and talking amongst themselves, police officers conferring with district attorneys as well as the prosecuting and defense attorneys calling out their cases to the judge. It wasn’t like the old fashioned courtrooms one saw on television but an ultramodern room where the back was darker than the front and the judge sat on his throne-like chair in front of all the chaos, looking bored and irritated by the bother. Into this mix stepped Ash while Autumn sat down in one of the rows, feeling better now that Ash was on board and taking charge. She scanned the room and tried to smile reassuringly as the police officer brought Mia forward. Mia stepped up to the defense table, her eyes wide with fear and her whole body trembling. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening. How had her life gotten so out of control? She was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt instead of a professional looking suit. Since the police had banged on her door in the early hours of the morning, she didn’t have any make-up on, her hair was a mess and she was terrified out of her mind. The police had arrived with a warrant for her arrest about four o’clock in the morning, waking her up out of a sound sleep and tossing questions and a piece of paper at her moments before they started rummaging around in her house. She’d answered the door in her robe, pushing her brown curls out of her eyes and trying very hard to focus. And now she stood in front of a busy courtroom, her mind frantically trying to figure out what was happening. “Do you have counsel?” the judge barked out over the noise of the audience. Mia looked around, finally figuring out that the judge was talking to her. A lawyer? Was this really happening to her? “Umm…” she started to say but she didn’t have a chance to answer the judge. She was about to open her mouth but was stopped by someone behind her. “Ash Thorpe here to represent Ms. Paulson, Your Honor,” a deep, commanding voice said. Mia looked around, her grey eyes scanning the crowd. A super tall man was stepping out of the crowd and her eyes widened in shock. She looked up into his blue eyes, wondering why he was here, who he was and why he was coming forward. A man this gorgeous shouldn’t be in a courtroom. And he definitely shouldn’t be standing next to her. But then, she shouldn’t be here either! She should be rushing out of her little cottage home, dropping her keys onto the wooden steps and grumbling as she bent down to pick them up again as she raced down the stairs so she could get to school before her kids started arriving. She should be worrying about spilling her coffee on her suit as she fought the traffic into the city. Instead, because of some weird, unexplainable twist of life, she was standing here, defending herself against a murder charge. Surely this was some sort of nightmare and she’d wake up in a moment. The sky would be lightening on the horizon and she’d figure out that she needed to wear a lighter suit instead of a wool one because it was going to be a hot, fall day instead of those delicious, cool ones that made her feel more motivated. No, this horrible moment wasn’t happening to her. “How does your defendant plead?” the judge demanded over the din. “Not guilty, Your Honor,” the gorgeous man stated confidently. He stood right next to her, but didn’t even bother to consult her on any of the issues. “We request that the defendant be released on her own recognizance,” the crazy-tall man was saying. The prosecutor spoke up and Mia’s eyes swung over in that direction, completely confused about what was being said. Was this about her or another case? “The defendant is accused of murdering her ex-fiancé out of jealousy. The people request that the defendant be remanded until trial.” Tall-Gorgeous-Dude shook his head, his eyes glaring at the prosecutor. “Ms. Paulson doesn’t have even a parking ticket to her name,” the tall, muscular man called back, his voice confident and deep, sexy and Mia couldn’t believe that she was thinking something like that while her entire life was at stake. “She hasn’t been engaged to the supposed victim in four months, nor does the prosecution even have the body of which Ms. Paulson might have murdered.” The judge swung his eyes back to the prosecutor with irritation, stunned that the prosecutor would bring a murder charge without a body. “Is that true?” he asked. The prosecutor shook his head, “The victim has been missing for more than a week. His blood was found on the murder weapon with Ms. Paulson’s fingerprints.” The judge shook his head. “If there’s no body, it sounds like you can’t even prove that there’s a murder. The man might have just left and gone to an island somewhere,” the judge grumbled, obviously wishing he could do the same thing. Tall-Gorgeous-Dude stepped in at that moment. “Since there’s no body and the prosecution can’t prove that there’s even been a murder, I request that the charges against my client be dropped, Your Honor.” Mia’s eyes swung from the tall man beside her to the judge, praying with hope that the man in the black robes would agree with this stranger. The prosecutor spoke up quickly. “The current fiancée to the victim swears that the victim wouldn’t disappear. He’s a principal at the local high school with enormous responsibilities. And there was a great deal of blood in the victim’s house. Too much blood for there not to be foul play. We currently have investigators at Ms. Paulson’s house digging up her back yard, searching for the body. We are confident that we will find it by mid-morning.” The judge considered the opposing arguments and came to a speedy conclusion. “Since there’s no body, I won’t hold the defendant. But the case can continue to trial and I’ll let the presiding judge hear whether there’s enough evidence to move forward. Defendant is released on her own recognizance, but must surrender her passport to the court until trial.” The gavel banged down and another voice was calling out the next case. Mia felt her arm grasped in a firm, demanding grip and she was pulled out of the courtroom. She still wasn’t sure what was going on, but she felt the tall man’s body next to hers, felt the trembling start up, but for a completely different reason this time. His Unexpected Lover - An Introduction Axel’s Story… “Hey! Axel, you coming?” Axel glanced over to the left and groaned when he saw his friends. Turning back to Lorrie, he said, “I’ll be right back, okay?” It was a gorgeous spring day and all he wanted to do was enjoy the warmth after the painfully cold, Chicago winter and get to know Lorrie a little better. She seemed like a nice person, a huge change from his last girlfriend. Lorrie smiled shyly at him and nodded a moment before Axel trotted over to the group of guys. “Hey, I know I said I’d hit the party with you tonight, but something’s come up.” Darren peered around Axel’s shoulders and grinned. “Come up, huh? I guess mine would too if I got to head down to the park with Lorrie Dumphries.” Axel punched his friend’s arm, irritated that Darren would be so crude about the girl he was interested in. “Don’t be disgusting. Lorrie is a nice girl.” He turned around and waved to Lorrie to indicate that things were okay. Joe snorted. “Why would you date a nice girl when you could be going out with Janey Smithers?” Axel cringed at the reminder. “Janey and I broke up. I’m seeing Lorrie now.” Joe’s eyes turned wary. “Does Janey know that?” Axel shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t need to know. Besides, she broke up with me.” Darren laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think she sees it that way.” Joe laughed as well. “I think it was all a ploy, because she’s going around school saying that you’re taking her to the dance next week.” Axel shook his head, dumbfounded by his ex-girlfriend’s antics. “I have no idea why she’s saying that,” he replied. But deep down, he suspected the answer. Janey was trying to make him jealous, but he just wasn’t into her enough anymore to care. She’d tried to manipulate him one too many times. He was through with her. It had been a relief last week when she’d dumped him. It had given him the “out” he’d needed without hurting her feelings – although why he even cared at this point, he couldn’t answer. He was walking back to Lorrie when he stopped and turned back to his friends. “Hey, don’t mention I won’t be at the party, okay? If Janey hears, she’ll just try and find me and I’d rather have a drama-free night tonight. Okay?” Joe and Darren both shrugged with their non-backpack shoulders. “Sure. Whatever you say. But if you’re not at the party by ten o’clock, you know she’ll come looking for you. She’s already done it several times.” Axel knew that all too well. “I know. And I’m not asking you to lie to her. Just tell her the truth. That you don’t know where I am.” Joe grinned with his quirky laugh. “I can do that,” he said and punched his friend on the upper arm. “Go get her!” Axel laughed and jogged back to where Lorrie was standing. “All set,” he said and led her down the sidewalk. As he walked her home that afternoon, he found out more about Lorrie and discovered they had a lot in common. They both liked the same football team, both had no idea what they wanted to be when they grew up, both loved history and hated geometry. “So I’ll pick you up at six?” he asked when they were both standing awkwardly on the walkway up to her house. She smiled and glanced up into his eyes. “That would be great,” she said. “Okay. Until tonight,” he replied and touched her lightly on her shoulder. He actually wanted to kiss her, but thought it was too soon. Tonight though… yes, he would be able to kiss her tonight after they’d had a burger at the diner down the street and caught a movie at the theatre. Lorrie was cute and kind although she was a bit more timid than he would have liked. But that was okay. Janey, the head of the cheerleading squad, was brash and forward. He’d liked that initially. He’d even been flattered when she’d gone out of her way to catch his eye. Not that anyone wouldn’t know about Janey Smithers – she was the prettiest girl in their class. But once he’d gotten to know her, he realized that she wasn’t a very nice person. She was mean and vindictive and, when she’d pulled a stunt to hurt her science partner during an experiment last week, he’d become angry with her. Her partner had been burned by a chemical they’d been working on and Janey had deliberately caused the “accident”. He didn’t know how, but she’d bragged about it with him later that afternoon, chuckling at how stupid the other girl had been. When he’d questioned why she’d done it, Janey had shrugged and said, “We got a bad grade on our exam and lab last week. So I got back at her.” Axel couldn’t believe that she’d been so vicious, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He had no proof, other than her statement, but he’d pulled back after that day, not wanting to even hang out with his friends when she was around. As soon as Janey realized that he was no longer devoted to her, she’d become furious. She’d challenged him that day, saying that if he didn’t stop his “pouting”, she would break up with him. He’d urged her to go find someone new and hadn’t even minded when she’d spread the word that she’d broken up with him. All he’d felt was relief that things were over. Apparently, she didn’t agree with her foiled battle strategy, but he wasn’t going to worry about Janey Smithers any longer. He had plans for the night. Thankfully, football season was over so he didn’t have to worry about Friday night games. Rushing into his house, he dumped his books on his bed, called out to his mother that he was home, then scurried out to the backyard to do his chores and avoid his brothers. Ryker was a senior in high school this year and getting ready to go off to college. He was going away with his parents tonight to spend a weekend visiting colleges, even though he already knew which one he was going to. Xander was in charge for the weekend, but Axel knew that Xander had a date tonight as well, so there wouldn’t be any problems tonight. Unfortunately, even though his parents were heading out of town, he still had to get his chores done before he could go out. So instead of opening up his computer and surfing the Internet, he sprinted down the stairs and out the back door, heading to the shed. He pulled the lawnmower out, checked the fluids and primed the pump. Then he spent the next fifteen minutes cursing the stubborn machine, trying to get it to start. When it finally roared to life, he whipped through mowing the grass as quickly as possible, ignoring the turns around the trees so he could finish faster. He figured he still had about an hour to shower and change before walking back to pick up Lorrie for their date. He was just pushing the ancient machine back into the shed when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in warning. He looked around and Janey was sauntering through the gate towards him, a “come-hither” smile on her pretty face. Axel looked towards the house and actually thought about making a run for it, but knew he had to face her now, get it over with. He finally understood that Janey was more like a spider, lying in wait for her prey to fall into her trap before she spun her evil web and trapped her victim. “What’s up?” he asked. She grinned up into his face, her blue eyes twinkling merrily. “You look hot mowing the grass like that,” she said, putting her hands on his waist and giving him that special look that promised so much to a guy. Axel was actually repulsed by her now. He pulled her fingers out from under his tee-shirt and took a step back. “I thought we broke up. Why are you here?” Her smile never faltered. “Oh, that was just a tiff. We’re still together. And we should go to the party tonight. I heard that Jonas’ parents weren’t going to be at his house tonight. Maybe we could sneak upstairs and discover what the master bedroom looks like.” Axel knew exactly what she was talking about. And most guys would jump at the opportunity to be alone in a bed with Janey Smithers but she just made his skin crawl now. “I’m not sure what my plans are for tonight.” She laughed and swung her long, blond hair over her shoulder. “Well, of course you’re going to the party tonight. Everyone is going to be there.” “Joe and Darren mentioned it earlier today.” “So how about if you pick me up? You can steal your dad’s car for the night, right?” He shook his head. “You know I don’t do things like that.” She giggled and moved closer. “Even if it means a nice, big back seat? With me right there with you?” Axel pulled her hands away from his waist and stepped backwards. “Like I said, I’m not sure what’s going to happen tonight.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He knew he was taking Lorrie to the diner for a burger then to a movie, but there were a lot of details that he hadn’t planned out. Although, he knew with certainty that he wasn’t going to steal his dad’s car and pick up this black widow. Janey didn’t seem to be getting the hint. She backed up slightly and shook her head. “Axel, you’re such a goody goody. If you weren’t so big and gorgeous, I might just tease you about that.” He had no response to her compliment about his physical attributes. He was just a guy with long legs. Since all of his brothers were about the same height and breadth, he didn’t think he was very special. “I gotta go take a shower,” he said and turned away from her, not even offering her a drink like he normally would have. She moved closer, ignoring all the signs that he wasn’t interested simply because she didn’t believe that any man wouldn’t be interested. “Hey, when we get to Jonas’ party tonight,” she twisted slightly and reached into her purse, pulling out a plastic bag, “I have plans to make it even more interesting.” Axel looked at the bag of marijuana, stunned that she would be so blatant. “What are you going to do with that?” he asked, even more disgusted with her. He didn’t do drugs, nor did any of his brothers or friends. She snorted delicately. “We’re going to smoke it, silly!” she replied as if that were the most obvious answer. “We can share with the others, or we can hide out behind the pool house and have our own little party,” she said, moving closer, snuggling up against his big, wide chest. Axel stepped back and headed towards his house, not wanting her anywhere near him. “I’ll see you around, okay?” Janey watched with narrowed, angry eyes as the biggest and sexiest guy in the school walked away from her. He walked away from her! How dare he! She stood in the middle of his backyard, plotting her next move. Axel had better figure out where his priorities should be. She stuffed the bag of weed back into her purse and stomped out of his backyard, her mind working the different angles, trying to figure out how she was going to manipulate the situation tonight so that he was paying attention to her, devoting himself to making her happy. Four hours later, Axel whistled as he walked home from Lorrie’s house. Her father had told her to be home by ten o’clock and it was now five minutes before that hour. What’s better, he’d even gotten a kiss, which had been sweet. Lorrie was nice, he thought as he cut through his neighbor’s yard and went in through the back door. His youngest brother, Ash, was sitting on the couch with four of his friends, chowing down on popcorn and soda. “You’re home early,” Ash teased, glancing over the back of the couch at his brother. “Why’s that?” Axel put a hand to the back of the couch then swung his legs over, landing with a thud on the cushion with a smile of victory. He’d never do that if his mom was around but his parents had left several hours ago with Ryker. “I just dropped Lorrie off at home. Her dad wanted her in early tonight.” “I heard Janey earlier today telling everyone that you guys were back together.” Axel snorted and shook his head while grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Not on a dare,” he replied. “What are you watching?” “Nightmare on Elm Street,” Ash replied. Axel rolled his eyes. “You guys were watching this last week.” “Yeah, but we didn’t catch all the mistakes.” Axel threw a piece of popcorn at the screen when the wrong lamp exploded. The main character, Nancy, had rigged another one and all four of the guys sitting in the living room booed and threw more popcorn at the screen. By midnight, Ash’s friends were all gone and the popcorn was vacuumed up. Xander walked through the front door and, a second later, the phone rang. “Hi mom,” Xander said, grinning from ear to ear because their parents were calling to make sure all three of their boys were safe and sound inside the house at the required time. When all three had spoken to both parents, they were off to sleep. The following morning, Axel couldn’t believe the rumors on his cell phone. Joe and Darren had been arrested for drug possession? He knew those guys would never do drugs! The three of them had been offered drugs before but none had ever been tempted. The phone rang and Ash grabbed it while Axel read through the text messages, astonished that only his two friends had been arrested although the police had broken up the party at Jonas’ house. Several people texted that the drugs that the police found weren’t even out in the open. They’d found the stash stuffed into Darren’s jacket, which had been dropped down over one of the patio chairs along with several other coats. “Can they even do that?” he asked to no one in particular. “I mean, don’t they need a search warrant to look in someone’s pocket?” Xander was looking at his own text messages as he simultaneously flipped the eggs he was making for breakfast. “I don’t think that’s right. It seems like an invasion of privacy, but maybe there was something about exigent circumstances.” Axel was furious. “Don’t the police need to think that someone’s life is in danger for that to apply? And why would they need to search someone’s coat pocket?” Xander’s response was only a shoulder shrug. “Maybe they thought there was a gun in the pocket.” Ash shook his head and tossed his napkin at Xander. “That doesn’t fall under exigent circumstances.” “How do you even know what that is?” Xander demanded, taking the napkin and lighting it on fire with the gas grill. He turned on the range hood which quickly dispelled the smoke. Ash and Axel both ignored the fire that would have caused his mother to be livid if she’d been here. “We had a debate about it in civics class last month. Someone’s life has to be in danger for the police to be able to enter a building. I don’t think it applies to searching someone’s pockets while breaking up a teenage party.” Axel listened to his brothers as they bantered back and forth, fascinated by the possibilities. “So what would allow the police to search Darren’s coat pocket?” Ash and Xander looked at each other and shook their heads, neither aware of any reason. “What are we? Lawyers?” Ash scoffed. “Go to the library and find out for yourself,” he said, leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the table, a pose his mother would never allow were she here with the three of them. “I’m calling dad,” Axel said and walked out of the kitchen. The doorbell rang just as he was passing by. He swung around, hoping it might be one of his other friends who had more information. But when he opened the front door, it was to find Janey standing there, looking smug and self-righteous. “What’s up?” he asked, trying to be polite. She stepped into the foyer without waiting for an invitation. “You didn’t show up at the party last night,” she said, looking up at him and moving closer than he wanted her to be. “You’re right,” he said and took a step back, putting a hand to her shoulder to stop her when she moved closer. Janey stopped but only because Axel was so much bigger and stronger. She couldn’t break his hold. “Your friends were there though. Why weren’t you?” Axel was tired of the woman and wanted her out of his life. “Janey, I have more important things to deal with than you. Get out.” Axel was taking the stairs two at a time when she called up to him, “Like getting your friends out of juvenile detention?” He froze and turned around. Looking down at her, he suddenly realized that she was the one who set up Joe and Darren. He walked back down the stairs, amazed at her vindictiveness. “Did you set them up? Those were your drugs! Weren’t they?” he demanded. She sauntered closer once again. “Answer my question first.” He glared down at her. “No.” Her eyes widened at the unprecedented rejection. “No? No, you’re not going to answer my question or…just no?” Axel leaned down, furious with the evil woman. “No. I’m not going to have anything to do with you. No, we’re not getting back together. No, I’m not answering your question.” He saw the fury light up her previously pretty blue eyes. “Then you’re friends are going down for drug possession. And when the police weigh that bag, I’m pretty sure they’ll charge your friends with intent to distribute because there’s too much marijuana in that bag for just personal use.” She was snapping the words at him, furious that any man wouldn’t bow down to her powers. It had never happened before and she wasn’t going to be thwarted now. Axel was amazed that anyone could be so vicious. “Are you implying that you set up my friends simply because I didn’t show up at the party last night?” She moved closer, unafraid of him despite his size and the power behind his anger. “I’m saying, if you start acting appropriately, I’ll go to the police and tell them that I saw the drugs put into your friends’ pockets by someone else. If you don’t behave, then I’ll let them fry.” He was stunned, truly shocked by how far she would go. “So…you’re using extortion to get a boyfriend.” She shrugged her shoulders delicately. “I thought the term was blackmail, but whatever. I don’t care what you call it. I just want results.” “You’re only fifteen, Janey. How can you be so manipulative?” She laughed and tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “You’ve never met my mother, have you?” It suddenly occurred to Axel that he hadn’t actually met her parents. He’d been to her house a few times, but neither of her parents had been there. “No, now that you mention it, I haven’t.” Janey shrugged. “She’s taught me everything I know.” Axel felt bad for Mr. Smithers. “Regardless, I’ll figure out how to get Joe and Darren out without giving you what you want.” “I’ll help too,” Xander said, stepping out of the living room so he was now visible. Ash came into the foyer from the opposite side. “I’m in too. I don’t think we can let an extortionist go unpunished, can we?” Janey looked up at the two other young men, both of whom were almost identical in size but with differences to their features. All four of the Thorpe boys were handsome, but Janey only wanted Axel. “Do whatever you want,” she said, her chin going up. “Axel, I’ll expect you at my house tonight. We’re going out to dinner.” She didn’t wait for a reply but simply stepped out of the house and sashayed down the street. The three boys stared after her. “We’re not letting her get away with that, are we?” Ash asked, shutting off the almost continuous stream of text messages from his friends to his cell phone. This was much more important. “She won’t stop until someone makes her,” Xander pointed out. Axel turned to face his older brother. “We should call mom and dad.” Xander nodded his agreement. “We should head to the police station while we’re doing it too.” The three boys climbed into his mother’s giant SUV, which had been left for their use but only in emergency situations. All three boys considered this to be an emergency. While Xander drove, Ash and Axel called their parents and explained the situation. At the police station, they told the story several more times, first to the reception officer, next to another uniformed police officer, and then one more time to two detectives, all with their parents conferenced in on the line. It took several hours, multiple phone calls, bringing the parents of Joe and Darren into the situation, and even the assistant district attorney, but by dinner time, Joe and Darren were free and relieved that the nightmare was over. The Thorpe boys’ parents had aborted their tour of the college, but it was worth it to be there to protect and support their children. In the end, the bag of drugs was fingerprinted and neither Joe nor Darren had touched it. So there was no way the police could accept that they’d been using or intending to distribute the drugs when they hadn’t even handled them. The best part came when they were all walking out. Janey and her mother were walking into the police station, ready to make a statement. Their expressions were smug until Janey saw Axel walking out at the same time. Then her face showed her surprise and a hint of concern. Kiera’s Story…. Kiera stood up when her name was called, wiping her sweaty palms on the sides of her dress. But she refused to allow anyone to know how nervous she was as she stepped onto the stage. She was only fourteen years old, the youngest ever to be on the varsity debate team and she was terrified. But she was also ready to take on the challenge! “The topic is…” Kiera held her breath, praying that she would be prepared for this. But as the host paused, Kiera couldn’t help but feel her chest tightening, the muscles in her stomach contracting with anxiety. “Do you believe school uniforms are beneficial?” Kiera’s breath caught in her throat. Was she kidding? She turned to the speaker and stared. School uniforms? That was her topic? “You are pro,” the narrator said in Kiera’s direction then turned to her opponent, “and you are opposed.” She took a moment to organize her papers. “You have ten minutes to form your argument.” Kiera used her pen and paper to scribble out thoughts, but her mind was whirling about the simplicity of the topic. She was hoping for something harder, like global warming or capital punishment. Those were hot topics and she could really get to the meat of those arguments. But school uniforms? How ridiculous! Regardless, she tackled the problem with the same intensity that she would have with any other subject. While making her notes, she didn’t even look at her opponent, focusing only on what she thought the main issues were, both the pros, which she would argue, and the cons, which she would need to counter after her opponent raised them. Thirty minutes later, the debate was over and she was smiling hugely as she accepted the certificate for winning with the most points. Stepping down off of the platform, she humbly accepted the congratulations of her teammates, all of whom were part of the success, while the stress slowly seeped out of her body. “Let’s get a burger!” someone called out. Chaperones and team members shifted en masse, everyone eager to grab something to eat. Kiera was suddenly starving, having skipped breakfast as well as lunch in her nervousness. Since it was almost dinner time now, she wanted food and lots of it. Kevin Lewis moved closer to her, smiling at Kiera as he said, “Those were some good points you made. I never would have thought about community spirit as a benefit to school uniforms.” Kiera laughed, looking down at her shoes. “That was something I read a while ago. I don’t know if it’s true.” “I think it makes a lot of sense,” he replied, moving closer to her. Kiera glanced up at him, not sure she understood his body language. “We should catch up with the others,” she said nervously. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Kevin, it was just that she didn’t want to hurt his feelings because she only liked him as a friend. And if she was grasping his body language properly, he was about to ask her something, or do something, that would make both of them uncomfortable. Kevin looked over at the rest of the group who were all heading towards the parking lot and the bus that had driven them to the debate site across town. “It’s just that…well,” he shifted on his feet nervously. “I was just wondering…” Kiera stepped in at that point. “Kevin, do you think Lauren is pretty?” she asked, changing the subject towards her friend. Kevin looked back at their group, seeing the tall brunette looking back at them. “Yeah, Lauren is nice enough.” Kiera turned and started walking towards the bus, looking back at Kevin when he didn’t immediately follow. “She thinks you’re very cute,” she explained, shifting the focus away from herself and on to her friend. Kiera knew that Lauren had been mooning over Kevin for several weeks now. That was a record for her friend, who usually flitted from one boy-crush to another whenever someone new caught her eye. “She’s nice. But I was wondering…” “She says she liked your argument about classroom size last week. She didn’t agree with you, but she said it sounded like you really knew what you were talking about. She likes that in a guy.” Kevin looked confused and they were getting closer to the others. He was missing his chance. But then Lauren caught his eye again and he smiled in her direction. When she smiled right back at him, then quickly looked away, he chuckled. “You’re trying to get me and Lauren together, aren’t you?” he asked. Kiera smothered her giggle but nodded her head. “She really likes you but you’ll have to be quick about it. Lauren has a tendency to be fickle if the object of her affection doesn’t return those feelings. She’s not the most confident girl around, but that’s probably normal and isn’t going to waste her time.” Kevin looked up again at the other girl, then back at Kiera. “You definitely have a way of adjusting the world so that it suits your plans, don’t you?” Kiera thought that was the sweetest thing he’d ever said to her. “Well, I do have a plan for my life,” she came right back. “And so far, I’ve been able to stay on track. That doesn’t mean everything will fit into my plan.” He really liked Kiera, but he was starting to understand that she wasn’t interested in him. Maybe Kiera was more driven than he preferred in a girl. He wanted someone he could talk with and who would challenge his mind about issues but he also knew that Kiera was much smarter than he was. He didn’t really enjoy that feeling. It made him feel insecure and he knew he would grow to resent that after a while. There was also the inkling he was starting to understand about her that was probably more bothersome. Kiera didn’t want anything in her life that didn’t coincide with her plans for life. “I guess since I’m planning to attend the University of California next year, you’re not interested in attending the dance with me next Friday night?” Kiera was exasperated at the idea of wasting her time on Kevin. He was nice enough for a friend but a long term relationship with him wasn’t in the future. He needed to accept that. “I’m going to Georgetown University,” she came right back. His eyes widened as he took in her completely serious statement. “But that’s in three years. We might have some good times in between.” She shook her head sadly. “Kevin, you’re a senior. I’m a freshman. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing to be dating me?” He looked at her beautiful face and knockout figure and laughed. “Are you kidding me? Half the guys on the debate team are in love with you.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating.” Kevin didn’t think he’d ever known another female who was as oblivious to her beauty as this woman standing in front of him. “You really don’t know, do you?” “What? That guys are silly? Of course I know that,” she said and stood up on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. “Now go ask Lauren to next Friday’s dance. I’ll bet by the time we drive back to school, she’ll have told you all about her rock collection.” He was about to walk away but that last statement stopped him. “Rock collection?” he asked warily. “Are you kidding?” Kiera laughed again, delighted that her friend was going to the dance and she’d maintained her friendship with a very smart guy. “Go!” she urged. “And be nice!” Kiera could actually feel the sigh of relief that Lauren released as her crush came closer. Within five minutes, Lauren was smiling excitedly up at Kevin. It was sweet and romantic, but Kiera was ravenous for a burger and fries, and all this chit-chatting was getting in the way of her devouring those carbs. It still took more than twenty minutes to get everyone on board the bus, but thankfully, they were quickly on their way – first for some tasty fast food, and then home. His Unexpected Lover “I can’t do this,” she whispered to herself. “I thought I could, but it’s simply too painful.” Kiera’s shoulders slumped and she tried to find the answers within the depths of her martini. Unfortunately, the liquid only mocked her, small circles forming on the top and quickly dissipating as if to say, “You never should have come here.” Or maybe the glass was only telling her that a heavy-footed person was walking by. She held her head up with her forehead, trying to figure out what to do. She’d only been at her new job for a less than a week and already she loved it. The people were fun, hard-working, extremely smart…that all added up to an ideal workplace where she was challenged to excel and stand out, but what was even better, she respected her peers. Instinctively, she knew that The Thorpe Group encouraged competition but, unlike other law firms, didn’t condone the backstabbing and win-or-get-out pressure on cases. Oh, they won cases! Clients came to The Thorpe Group for legal advice from all over the country, all over the world even, because they knew that The Thorpe Group would deliver. The difference was that their success was due to a brilliant legal team versus barely ethical legal tactics. There were other law firms out there with a similar reputation, although none as glamorous as The Thorpe Group. Gaining a few years at this firm on her resume would set her up perfectly for success wherever she wanted to go as a next step. No, the work and the workers weren’t the problem. Even the location was great. Chicago was a fabulous city with excellent museums, a thriving art community, tons of shopping and a wide range of people with which to interact. Nope, all of her issues were personal. She’d foolishly convinced herself that she would be able to deal with this problem but, after only a few days, she knew that the issue was bigger than she could handle. Axel Thorpe. She’d seen him in the hallway earlier today. And that one sighting, just the glimpse of the man as he walked into a conference room, was why she was here, trying to drown her problem in a martini. Unfortunately, she realized after ordering that she didn’t like martinis. She also didn’t like her body’s reaction to seeing Axel Thorpe again. She’d almost embarrassed herself when she’d seen him. She didn’t think he’d seen her trip thankfully. Nor had any of her co-workers which was at last something. She’d had to catch herself by grabbing onto a chair which probably looked ridiculous, but at least she hadn’t fallen on the floor. She might have passed off the accident as just a fluke, but she’d almost fallen over the conference room table. Not something most people trip over because of its size and obvious placement in the room. But then again, most people hadn’t just seen the love of their life after so many years. Kiera sighed and took another sip of her martini. Maybe she just needed to plow through the drink. Keep forcing it down. Eventually, the alcohol would keep her mind from replaying the scene. She would eventually feel nothing. Maybe that was the way she should handle Axel too. Just keep running into him until her body was numb from the reaction. Perhaps today’s sighting and the humiliating aftermath was just a fluke. Maybe if she just went up and spoke to him, greeted him and asked him how his day was going, she wouldn’t be so flustered when she accidentally saw him. Sort of like taking an allergy shot every week to build up one’s immune system. She sighed and took another sip of her martini, her face squinching up ridiculously as she tried to swallow the foul stuff. And she had to acknowledge the stupidity of her idea. Being around him hadn’t diminished his appeal or the impact he had on her when she was in college. Every time she’d seen him, she’d been floored. Just like today. Her knees went weak, she had trouble breathing, her whole body started shaking and she was unable to speak coherently. Maybe it was just an allergy! She almost giggled to herself and looked down at her drink. reaching the giggle stage after only a few sips of the martini? Was she She pulled a file folder out of her leather bag, intending to get some work done. She wouldn’t think about Axel. She would simply push him from her mind every time he entered. And if she saw him in the hallways at work? Well, she’d known that would happen when she’d accepted the position at The Thorpe Group. The man was one of the co-owners, for goodness sake. She would have been a fool to think she’d never see him. But after so many years, she’d hoped that she was over him. She shook her head with derision. Did one ever get over someone like Axel? He really was one in a million. She remembered the first time she’d seen him, laughing in a bar just like this one. She’d been a sophomore at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C. and he’d been clerking for a Supreme Court justice. He’d been magnificent, she thought with a smile. So tall, so handsome and one could just see the charm and charisma oozing from the man’s smile. Six Years Earlier…. “This place is too crowded,” Kiera pointed out, peering through the windows of the upscale bar in Georgetown. “Why don’t we go back to our usual hangout?” Debbie just grabbed Kiera’s hand and pulled her deeper into the crowd, obviously eager to be here for some reason. “Because Brian will be there,” Debbie replied, referring to her ex-boyfriend, almost yelling over the noise of the bar. “And I really don’t want to run into him again. He’s still angry about our breakup last week.” She quickly shifted out of the way of someone who almost spilled beer on her. “This place is a bit rowdier than the places we usually hang out,” Kiera cautioned. Debbie looked around and smiled. “It’s nice! I like trying out new places and meeting new people.” Except that Debbie had invited all of their old friends here so they probably wouldn’t meet anyone they didn’t already know. “I’m not sure I’m all that adventurous tonight, Debbie,” Kiera cautioned. It wasn’t so much that she wasn’t into trying new things, but she preferred less crowded conditions than this place that had wall to wall people. “Just pretend for one night,” Debbie laughed back, pulling Kiera up to the bar and ordered two beers. Kiera shook her head but followed her friend, not sure this was such a good idea. “Fine,” she agreed and tried to hide the weird feeling that had come over her suddenly. Midterms had just finished and she had a bit of breathing room before her next paper was due so it wouldn’t be a bad thing to relax for a few hours. “But we’re not staying late.” Was she being too cautious? Probably, she told herself as she slipped between a couple that was heavy into a debate on the latest political wranglings. It was hard to avoid those kinds of discussions in a Georgetown bar. Not only were they mere miles from the heart of the federal buildings, the area was teeming with history. The streets were mostly cobblestones from the colonial period and even a small townhouse would cost well over one million dollars. The cobblestones were ballast from the rum trade but the political debates were due to the proximity to the federal government. She suspected that many of the people here were either international studies students, political science majors or were interning for a senator or representative. “This is awesome,” Debbie called back to her, grinning from ear to ear, obviously excited to be in a new setting instead of their normal haunts. The bar was darker, probably proud of the bare bricks and heavy, wooden beams overhead that might or might not date back to the colonial period. If they weren’t, Kiera doubted the owner would ‘fess up to having new beams. Many of the establishments promoted the “old time” feel of their buildings by refurbishing so that the décor was reminiscent of colonial times, but with all the bells and whistles of modern conveniences. Of course, there was the one trendy bar she knew of that bragged about having bullet holes in the walls. Not that they claimed the bullets were colonial, but every bar had to have its quirks, she supposed. She took the beer Debbie handed her and then turned around, trying to find a place to sit down. The odds of finding a chair or stool in a place this crowded would be pretty slim, she thought while her eyes surveyed the room. Kiera noticed him the moment Debbie’s back was turned. He was in a group of four or five other men, all of them laughing about something. But not him. He was staring right back at her. His eyes seemed to capture hers but that look was so powerful, his gaze so strong that it jolted her all the way down to her toes. More than just her eyes were captured. Her whole body was frozen in place, the noise and crowds, the damp smell of beer and other drinks…all of it just disappeared from her consciousness as she stared right back at him. She couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t pull her eyes away, she couldn’t even move. She hadn’t even realized that Debbie had turned around and was trying engage her in conversation until Debbie breathed, “Who is that?” Kiera struggled, but she was finally able to pull her eyes away and glanced at her friend. To her horror, Debbie was staring at the man! Her man! And there was a great deal of interest on Debbie’s lovely features. Jealousy, hot and powerful stabbed through Kiera’s body. She didn’t like her friend even looking at a man she already considered to be hers. Okay, so that was ridiculous. She couldn’t claim a human being simply because they were looking at each other from across the room. But there was no way to suppress the furious feelings that surged through Kiera as her friend surveyed the tall, handsome stranger. Kiera tried to be rational about this. She had no claim on the man. But regardless, Kiera was suddenly incensed that Debbie had dared to look at the guy. It was a sudden and all-consuming jealousy, something Kiera had never experienced before so she wasn’t sure how to handle that level of intensity. Men had never affected her in the past. To her, they were simply other human beings she could study with or joke with during non-study hours. It was completely different with this man. And completely irrational. Instead of revealing her jealousy, Kiera took a sip of her beer and pulled Debbie through the crowd until they couldn’t see the man anymore, although Debbie’s blond head kept craning at different angles to try and take another gander at the man. Debbie wasn’t shy about letting a guy know she was interested. But didn’t she need a bit of time to get over Brian? Debbie had just broken up with her boyfriend earlier this week! What was she doing ogling another man so quickly? It was ridiculous and disrespectful of Brian’s feelings not to mention the three years they’d been together. Kiera tried hard to ignore her jealousy, pushing Debbie to talk about classes and their friends in an effort to distract her from the gorgeous man. When a couple more friends showed up, Kiera was relieved to finally have support distracting Debbie from the man Kiera had already claimed, at least mentally. Not that she would do anything about her gnawing desire to find out more about the tall, intensely handsome man with the piercing, ice blue eyes. Kiera wasn’t like Debbie. Where Kiera was shy and introverted, Debbie was the party girl, the one that pushed Kiera to get out and have more fun. Debbie also didn’t hide her interest in the opposite sex. When Debbie wanted a man, she walked right up to him and started talking to him. Kiera hadn’t ever felt this way, but she knew that she wouldn’t go up to that man tonight. She wasn’t that brave. Besides, she’d never felt that way about a man before. And he hadn’t even touched her! No, she couldn’t handle him so it was better to just stay away from that kind of…whatever it was. An hour later, Kiera desperately needed to use the ladies’ room. Unfortunately, the man she’d spotted earlier had been positioned right next to the hallway where the bathrooms were located. She wiggled in her chair, determined to ignore the need. But when Debbie popped up with the same intention, Kiera wasn’t going to allow her to go alone. “I’ll come with you,” she said, determined to keep Debbie and the stranger from seeing each other again. Kiera knew she couldn’t have the man. She wasn’t glamorous or rich or any of those adjectives that would apply to the woman on that kind of man’s arm. She was passably pretty with curly brown hair that tended to get out of control. She had a good enough figure but she wasn’t any lingerie model. In short, Kiera knew she was just an average kind of gal. Debbie, on the other hand, was not only blond and beautiful, she had a way about her that seemed to draw men into her realm. She was fun and nice not to mention extremely intelligent. And over the past year, they’d been good friends and study partners. But at this moment, Kiera could honestly say that she hated Debbie. Because Kiera knew that Debbie was going to talk to the stranger. Kiera could see it in Debbie’s eyes and was helpless to stop the action. Kiera felt helpless, desperate to keep Debbie from acquiring yet another conquest, but unable to come up with any ideas on how to stop her from working her magic. Kiera had no doubt that Debbie was going to approach the man. It was in her eyes and Kiera glanced over at the man, her eyes worried as she gauged the distance between Debbie and the man. But as soon as she found him through the crowd, she realized that he was looking at her! Debbie was even primping, doing her best to get noticed. Kiera looked from Debbie to the stranger, wondering when he would notice the blond beauty standing next to her. The stranger’s eyes never wavered and Kiera’s stomach did flip flops at the realization. They made their way down the hallway to the ladies’ room and Kiera breathed a sigh of relief. One gauntlet down, one more to go. Maybe she could get Debbie out of the bar. Maybe if they just left, Debbie wouldn’t have time to set her sights on… “Did you see him again?” Debbie gushed as they both washed their hands. Kiera’s throat constricted when she noticed the light of intent in Debbie’s eyes. “I’m going to talk to him,” she declared. Kiera sighed with resignation. When Debbie went on the prowl, men tended to fall to their knees and worship her. She fluffed her blond hair one more time and Kiera wished she had done something more interesting with her out-of-control curls. They floated around her like some sort of bohemian gypsy instead of being smooth and glossystraight like Debbie’s blond hair. Debbie even had those pretty blue eyes that she could bat at any man and have him fall at her feet, desperate to do her bidding. Kiera stared at her boring brown eyes, wishing for the first time that her face could be more interesting, more devastatingly beautiful. Her lashes might be long, but her mouth was too wide and too full, her nose too small to be anything other than cute instead of sophisticated and interesting. Her cheeks weren’t gaunt and she even had a sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of her nose and her cheeks that she normally covered up with makeup but hadn’t bothered tonight, much to her irritation now. With a sigh, Kiera looked behind her at Debbie’s luscious figure, wondering how long it would be before Debbie had the stranger wrapped around her pinky finger. They stepped out of the hallway, Kiera holding her head down, not wanting to watch Debbie snag yet another man. Why couldn’t her friend leave this one alone? Why couldn’t she just let one, this special one, go about his business and not make him fall under her spell? Suddenly, her path was blocked and someone was holding a beer towards her. She looked up, but all she saw was a denim clad chest. It was an extraordinarily muscular chest, she noticed. Her heartbeat picked up rapidly because she knew exactly who this man was. Her eyes continued to climb and she couldn’t believe it when her light brown eyes captured the ice blue ones of her stranger. The man was smiling down at her, not even noticing her blond friend beside her. Of course, Kiera had no idea if Debbie was still there or if she’d moved on. It was just this man and herself and her racing heart. “I wish I could come up with some witty line to get your attention, but I’ll admit, I’m stumped,” he said. Kiera tried to smile. She tried to catch her breath. But with this man standing so close to her, his body heat and that incredible male scent wafting towards her, she just couldn’t think. “I believe I’m in the same situation,” she replied nervously. He looked down at her hands and smiled. “I noticed you were drinking beers. I got you another one,” he said, referring to the second beer he still had in his hands. “I know that was forward of me, but…” Kiera straightened quickly, not wanting him to think she was rejecting the offer. “No, that’s very kind of you,” she said, taking the beer. But her hand accidentally touched his and she felt some sort of…spark? She pulled back quickly, unsure of what was going on. Unfortunately, at the same time, he was releasing the beer. The result was both of them grabbing for the beer again, fumbling and beer spilled out, landing on her hand. “I’m so sorry!” she gasped, horrified at how clumsy she was acting. “My fault,” his deep, sexy voice replied. “No, really, I was the clumsy one,” she countered, looking up into those blue eyes once again. And she couldn’t move. Not even to take a breath. They looked into each other’s eyes and it was as if the noise of the bar once again faded away leaving only the noise of her heartbeat. There was only this large man standing in front of her and the cold beer in her hand. “I’m Axel Thorpe,” he said softly, that deep baritone soothing over her skin like a balm. “I’m Kiera Ward,” she replied. As his large, strong hand took hers, she prayed hard that her knees wouldn’t give out on her and she wouldn’t throw up because she was suddenly feeling like something had just exploded inside of her stomach. His Secretive Lover - An Introduction Cricket’s Story… Cricket Fairchild pulled the books more tightly against her chest, her green eyes huge and anxious. Another school, another set of strangers. Biting her lip, she walked into the classroom filled with new faces and took the only empty seat. She tried not to feel self-conscious, but she was painfully aware of all the eyes that watched her as she sat down. She prayed she wouldn’t trip on the legs of the desk or chair. “Bonjour class!” the teacher started off. Cricket glanced down at her class schedule. French? She was in Beginner’s French? She was fluent in French! She’d just moved from Paris last week! Why had her father signed her up for Beginner’s French? She slumped down into the chair, keeping her mouth shut as she watched the other students. Everyone was struggling with pronunciation so she pretended to not know how to say the most basic words, even though she could speak not only French, but also Spanish and Italian. German was a bit harder, but she could even get through a conversation in that language as well. She wasn’t in Paris anymore, she reminded herself a half hour later when she lifted her books once again and glanced down at her schedule to find her next class. History. She had to chuckle at her father’s sense of humor. With the emphasis her father placed on learning about the countries where they had lived, she probably knew more than the teacher. Her father not only pressed Cricket to learn about their histories and governments, but even the history and significance of the artworks he stole. She doodled on her notebook in history class, wondering what “project” her father was working on now. What was in San Francisco that had lured her parents here? What amazing piece of art was he going to pilfer and sell on the black market? Or maybe he already had a buyer ready. Who knew with her father. Theft wasn’t just his job, it was his passion. A passion she hated, she thought as she crouched lower in her chair, trying to blend in. The teacher called on her and she jerked up in her seat, spewing out the correct answer before she could stop herself. She then looked around, worried that the other students would think she was weird. Only a few stray glances came her way, and she sighed with relief when they didn’t look too hostile. “Very good, Ms. Fairchild,” the teacher beamed, proud of the newest student in her classroom. “Anthony,” she called out, moving on to the next question and the next student. Cricket was able to slump back down into her chair, trying to appear inconspicuous. Avoid attention, she reminded herself. Blend in. Standing out caused the other students to not trust her. Blending in was the key to survival. She pulled her hands up inside of the sleeves of her turtleneck sweater, wishing she could just curl up into an invisible ball. Unconsciously, her eyes scanned the room, her mind easily figuring out how to pick the lock on the classroom door, the deadbolt on the teacher’s locker and, even more effortlessly, the teacher’s desk. Cricket smiled, wondering what the teacher kept inside of her desk to need it locked up all the time. As she wandered out of the classroom after the bell, she didn’t realize that she was counting the ceiling blocks so she would know exactly how many squares inside the walls she’d need to climb in order to be directly over the cabinets or the desk. Her father was always proud of her casing abilities, calling her a natural thief. She shuddered at the thought, hating what her parents did while she was either at school or sleeping. She made her way to the library instead of the cafeteria during lunch. Cricket didn’t want to sit all by herself, feeling gauche and awkward. So she carried her books to the back of the library, pulled her partially demolished sandwich out of her backpack, and nibbled while she completed the homework she’d been assigned so far. Looking around, she saw several other girls and a couple of boys doing the same thing and she smiled to one of the girls with straight, brown hair and thick, black glasses. The girl smiled back when the bell rang, indicating that the lunch period was over. “I’m Halley,” the girl said as she hurried to catch up to Cricket in the hallway. Cricket looked carefully at the other girl, immediately mimicking the way she walked and the slant of her shoulders. It was a trick she’d learned over the years to help her blend in and act like the students around her. “I’m Cricket,” she replied, wishing for the millionth time that her parents had named her something classic like Ann or Julie. The name Cricket was simply too weird. In the past, she’d tried to pretend that her name was something else, but “Cricket” always caught up with her. “That’s a cool name,” Halley said, her intelligent eyes looking over Cricket carefully. “Where are you from?” she asked. Ah yes, Cricket thought, yet another mine field. “I lived in Virginia,” she replied, which technically wasn’t a lie. She had lived in Virginia. And New York, and Paris, London, a small city just outside of Rome and a dozen other cities around the world. Her home followed her parents’ “projects”. When one stole the most valuable art work and jewelry in the world, one tended to have to move around a great deal. “How long have you lived here?” Cricket asked, pushing the focus off of her so she didn’t have to lie any longer “All my life,” Halley replied, rolling her eyes. “I’ve never been anywhere but San Francisco. And maybe over to Yosemite for camping, but my parents don’t like to travel very much.” That sounded like heaven to Cricket who had never had a permanent home in her life. She was a freshman in high school and she’d been in more than fifteen different schools over her lifetime. And that didn’t include the periods when her mother or father had taught her themselves because they had a “project” in an area without good schools. The two walked down the hallways that rapidly filled up with the other students, all of whom were rushing to their next class. “If you’re not doing anything after school, want to meet in the library to study again?” Halley asked, her eyes filled with eager hope. Cricket latched onto the offer of friendship with both hands. “That would be great,” she replied, her heart filling with happiness that she wasn’t alone any longer. First days of school were always terrifying until she’d found a kindred spirit. Not someone in the “business,” of course, but someone else who was in desperate need of a kind and compassionate smile. Cricket didn’t concern herself with being popular or having a crush on the cutest boy in school. Her ambitions were much lower, just wanting not to be alone. She hated that painful feeling of others’ staring as the lone student walked silently and awkwardly down the hallway, wondering if others were whispering about the new girl. As she walked happily down the hallway, she asked Halley questions, steering the conversation away from herself, since there were so many questions she couldn’t answer truthfully. Besides, it was always interesting to find out about “normal” people, to live vicariously through their routines and traditions. Someday, she promised herself, she would own her own house and a big yard with a dog running through the leaves in the fall and jumping through the sprinkler in the summer. She’d have a kitchen where she could bake cookies, and storage units filled up with junk she didn’t know what to do with. As she listened to Halley talk about her Christmas plans, Cricket promised herself she would have a real home in the future! Ryker’s Story… Thwak! The ball bounced perfectly against the brick wall of the school gymnasium, then onto the asphalt and back to Ryker’s opponent. He smiled even as his eyes watched the ball, his mind instantly calculating the angle while his feet moved into position to take the next shot. Another thwak! And the ball bounced high out of reach, but still inside the chalked up boundaries. One more point in his favor! “Good job!” a chorus of girls exclaimed as they sat primly on the low, brick retaining wall of the school playground. He gave them a small nod of acknowledgement, then moved quickly into place, determined to win the wall-ball game before the teacher called them in from recess. Rick “Iceman” Gable smiled with grim determination, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the girls. Ryker agreed with him, but the ladies were the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. He wanted to win the game! Not that he was competitive or anything, but he didn’t like to fail at anything. Second place was not allowed in his mind. This might just be a recess wall-ball game, but he played everything as if it were an Olympic sport. The ball flew out of Rick’s hand and Ryker moved into position. But in the next moment, something caught his eye off to the left of the playground. He knew that Xander, his younger brother by one year, was out on the playground as well, although their recess times were slightly different. Xander was in fifth grade while Ryker was in sixth. The fifth graders normally didn’t rate any attention from the sixth graders but Ryker sensed something was wrong. Ryker stood up, completely ignoring the ball as it whizzed by his head. Looking towards the basketball courts, he noticed that several boys were ganging up on Xander. “Not going to happen!” he growled and his feet were eliminating the distance between himself and his younger brother quickly. “What’s going on?” he demanded as he stood shoulder to shoulder with his brother. He felt, more than heard, his two other brothers, both of them younger as well, standing beside himself and Xander. How all four of the Thorpe brothers were out on the playground at the same time was a mystery, but here they were, protecting each other. “Xander cheated!” one of his classmates was saying. The five boys who were trying to gang up on Xander backed down quickly with Ryker there now. Ryker was the oldest, but all four of the brothers were unusually big for their age. Xander was the tallest in their fifth grade class by more than a head and Ryker was just over that. Ash, at seven years old and youngest of the four, focused on looking mean since he didn’t yet have the height while Axel, the third in line, was almost as tall as his two older brothers, but still not willing to let any family member be beaten up for any reason. “Xander never cheats,” Ryker asserted firmly. “If you’re losing, then lose like a man!” he snapped. Ash and Axel nodded their heads in agreement, but all of them knew that Xander wasn’t so pristine. He didn’t cheat because he didn’t have to. Xander was an outstanding athlete, as were all the Thorpe brothers, but sometimes Xander tended to stretch the rules a wee bit. Soccer in the Thorpe backyard could be more taxing than a full marathon, and Monopoly in their house was a blood sport at times. A babysitter coming to watch the four boys was a thing of the past, since no sitter would venture into the Thorpe household without a shield and an escape plan. But the Thorpe brothers watched out for their own, forming a united front when someone tried to hurt one of them. The accusing boys backed down, none of them willing to take on all four of the brothers at once. But Ryker knew this wouldn’t be the end of it. “How about if we play ball to settle this?” he offered, not wanting Xander to be cornered later on because of the disagreement. “What did you have in mind?” one of the other boys asked cautiously. Ryker easily assessed the skills of the other boys simply by the way they were standing or holding the ball. “The four of us against the five of you.” The five boys all smiled confidently and bumped shoulders, thinking this would be easy. “You’re on,” one of them replied. Ryker bent low, looking at each of his brothers. Ash and Axel might be young, but the four of them played ball on the driveway at home. All of them were merciless competitors, none of them coming away without several bruises during any match. But they also knew how to play as a team against an enemy. “Okay, guys, you know what to do.” He turned to Xander. “None of that funny stuff,” he cautioned. “You saw it on the globetrotters, but we have no idea if it is legal or not.” Xander rolled his eyes, looked like he was about to argue, then just smiled and nodded his head. Looking at Ash and Axel, Ryker noted the determination in their eyes. “Good. Let’s do it!” Turning back, the five boys immediately tossed the ball to one another. They were able to maintain control of the ball for perhaps sixty seconds before each of the Thorpe brothers kicked in their speed and agility. The five boys didn’t have a chance after that, especially with Ryker calling out strategy. There were a few times one of the other boys scored a point, but they didn’t do it legally, and several of the baskets were sheer luck. When the teachers started calling their classes in for the next part of the day, Ryker grabbed the ball and tossed it to the other team. “We’re square now, right?” The other boys were bent over, gasping for breath while Ryker and his brothers walked away, barely even breathing hard. The younger three separated quickly, going to their own class lines, where their teachers were trying to get the class under control. Ryker groaned as he moved closer to line up with his teacher, seeing the girls on the sidelines, waiting for him. Rick laughed and joined him at that point, patting him on the shoulder in sympathy. “They’re all hot for you, dude. All girls love a hero and you just defended your brother.” Ryker shook his head, not understanding girls at all. “They’re silly,” he said and stood in line, trying to figure out how to get through the day without Nancy and Emma trying to convince him to walk them home. He glanced one more time back at the playground, ensuring that Xander and his other two brothers were okay. He was fiercely protective of his family, no matter what kind of trouble they got into. Five years later…. Ryker stood outside the doorway to Emma’s last class of the day, eager for the bell to ring so he could walk her home. When the bell finally sounded, he waited, leaning against the wall on the opposite side for her to come out. When she finally did, he smiled, thinking she looked pretty cute in her new jeans and leather boots. Ah, leather boots, he thought with appreciation. Was there really anything better on a woman? “Ready to go home?” he asked. Emma smiled up at him, blushing because Ryker was the handsomest boy in the school – not to mention the best basketball player the district had ever seen. “Of course,” she replied, leaning against him as his strong arm moved around her shoulders. “Did you finally get your SAT scores?” she asked, referring to the college entrance exams. “Yeah,” he replied. “Are you finished with your math homework?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Yes,” she answered then looked up at him, seeing the tense jaw. “Ryker, what’s wrong? Did you do poorly on the exam?” Emma hadn’t ever heard of Ryker doing poorly at anything so this would be a huge downfall. They turned the corner, heading towards her house. “No. I did okay. What are you studying in biology?” Ryker had taken biology during summer school after his freshman year so he was already in the advanced chemistry class. Emma had no idea how Ryker dealt with the pressure of all of his courses. He was relentless, and wouldn’t settle for anything less than an A in all of his subjects, yet he still had the time to play basketball and football. All that intelligence and gorgeous too! Emma huffed and came to a stop, pulling Ryker to a halt beside her. “Okay, what’s going on?” she asked. Emma had no idea if she was in love with Ryker or just in awe of him. He was so smart, it was almost scary! “Nothing. Did Linda contact you about the dance next Friday? We’re all going together.” Emma watched him carefully, then the reason for his resistance hit her. “You got a perfect score, didn’t you?” Ryker shrugged. “Sort of,” he said, looking away from her. He’d already dismissed the college entrance exams from his mind, focusing on his next goal. Emma laughed and took his arm, hugging it against her chest. “You’re amazing,” she said, shaking her head. “You do realize that less than five hundred people nationally are able to pull off a perfect score on that brutal exam, right?” Ryker shrugged. “It’s all cool.” Emma smiled wistfully, wondering how she could keep this guy in her life after high school. He was so gorgeous and so smart, she just knew that he would make her the perfect husband. “So where are you applying to college?” she asked, determined to apply to a school as close as possible. Ryker frowned again. “I’ve been accepted to Harvard,” he told her. Emma didn’t like that at all. Harvard wasn’t close to any of the lower level schools. She bit her lip, her mind already spinning with plans. “Well, we’ll figure it all out.” Ryker had no idea what Emma needed to “figure out” but he was delighted to pull her around to the side of her house. He remembered all those times in fifth and sixth grade when she’d tried to get him to kiss her. How he’d wasted time! Not that this was the love of his life, he thought. But she was certainly soft and pretty and he was just the man to enjoy her slender arms around his neck while he kissed her. After dropping Emma off, Ryker slipped through the neighborhood and through the back door of his house. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was able to make it to his bedroom without getting caught. He knew he had chores to do, but he needed to get his homework done and he seriously didn’t want to deal with his three younger brothers today. He was just opening up his lab book when Ash burst into his room. “Ryker, you’ve got to help me!” he exclaimed. He reached down and punched his oldest brother in the arm to ensure that Ryker would follow. Ryker glared at his younger brother’s retreating back, wondering what could be so important. In the end, it didn’t matter. Ash has issued a challenge with that punch and Ryker wasn’t one to let a challenge go. When he went downstairs, he noticed Xander and his other brothers sitting around the kitchen table with several of their friends, a big pile of pretzels in the middle and all of them with playing cards clutched in their hands. “Mom’s going to be home in a half hour,” he cautioned. “You know she hates gambling.” But that didn’t stop him from taking the only available seat next to Ash. “Yeah, yeah,” Ash griped, then handed Ryker his cards. “Here, play these,” he said. Xander and Axel both started arguing. “No way! You can’t just toss your cards to another player!” Ryker shifted back in the chair, rearranging the cards, ignoring the outbursts. He then pushed all of his brother’s remaining pretzels into the center of the pot. “He’s all in, guys.” Xander and Axel looked at Ryker’s face, didn’t notice a single “tell”, looked back down at their own cards, then immediately tossed their cards into the pot, giving up on even trying to bet against their oldest brother. Ryker could out-bet a professional, they suspected. They had never won against him and had no clue what his secret was when bluffing or playing it cool. The other guys looked at the Thorpe brothers nervously, then down at their own pile of pretzels. As if in unison, all of them tossed their cards in, folding quickly. Ryker handed the cards back to Ash who was immediately pulling all the pretzels to him and into a bag. “Come to papa!” he grinned with relish. “Deal me in,” he announced and leaned back, watching the others carefully. Within two hands, he had figured out everyone’s way of bluffing and started winning. “I’m out,” Xander stated with disgust. He stood up and punched Ash on the arm. The youngest of the brothers didn’t even flinch, knowing that he deserved the punishment for bringing Ryker into the game. “Sorry,” he grumbled, then tossed his own cards onto the table. Ryker didn’t even blink as he pulled the rest of the pretzels over towards his pile. He looked around at the miniscule piles in front of the other boys and realized that he didn’t have time to clean out the rest. “Gotta go,” he claimed and scooped his pile into a bag and quickly disappeared up the stairs. A fraction of a second later the front door to their house opened up and their mother stepped into the house. “What’s going on?” She surveyed the cards and the pretzels in front of each of her sons and pursed her lips. “Boys…?” Xander, Axel and Ash all let their heads fall backwards, staring up at the ceiling. “How did he know?” Ash asked, referring to Ryker’s ability to know exactly when they were about to get into trouble. Not to mention his astounding capability to extricate himself before that happened! “Ryker was here too, Mom,” Xander asserted. “It wasn’t just us.” The look on her face told the remaining boys that she didn’t believe them for a moment. “Go get ready for dinner,” she commanded firmly. “We’ll discuss this later.” She watched as her boys said goodbye to their friends, then morosely walked to the kitchen to start their dinner chores. “Don’t worry,” Xander said, his mind already working a mile a minute. “We’ll get him back.” Ash and Axel both looked at Xander and their expressions changed from grim to eager. If the three of them put their minds to it, they could surely figure out a way to get back at Ryker. It was only a matter of time. His Secretive Lover Chapter 1 The dark figure stopped in her tracks, listening carefully, not even allowing herself to breathe. The silence was thick, but something was wrong. The carpeting had suppressed her steps, but she knew that, in the night, every sound, every moment was louder than during the daytime hours. She closed her eyes and relaxed her mind, letting all the sounds become louder and the movements almost a physical vibration. Relaxing helped her focus all her other senses, her mind working hard to grasp if there was a real threat or if she’d just imagined something. She’d been trained from childhood and knew what to do, how to react and had contingency plans in place. Her training had been thorough. Total silence. She kept her eyes closed, her body still. Listening. There it was, she thought with a cheeky, secret smile, her body still frozen in place. The shuffling sound was barely there, but someone was trying to creep up on her. She would have laughed with delight, but she knew that would give her presence as well as her location away. Silence was the most important aspect of this night. Without silence, she would be caught. With stealth built up over years of practice, she grabbed the last object in the middle of the desk, then climbed the rope right back up into the ceiling. She suppressed an inner giggle and watched through the air conditioning vent as the large, awkward figure moved into the office. Overhead lights were turned on and the dark head moved to the right and left. As much as she’d like to watch, she knew better than to remain still at this point in the mission. She slowly turned, her body slithering down through the vents. She didn’t wait around to see if the inept, power-hungry security guard would spot her through the metal slats. Gliding lithely through the air system, she made her way back to her starting point. At the last moment, she hesitated, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise up. Those little hairs had saved her neck on more than one occasion so she’d learned to listen to their silent warning. Pausing, she lifted herself higher, using all her upper body strength to pull up another three inches. With that, she knew she was basically invisible to the cameras that she’d already put on a loop. But her position also meant she was invisible to anyone coming out the door directly beneath her. If she hadn’t done all those workouts recently, she never would have made it to this point before the guard burst through the door for his nightly, if off schedule and unsanctioned, cigarette and whiskey break. In that moment, her heart rate accelerated to triple time and she felt a renewed shot of adrenaline spike through her body. She bit her lip and looked around, trying to determine if her back-up escape plan was still viable. She saw the door and the window above it and knew she could do it. With grim determination, she lifted herself higher up, swung her leg over the ledge and looked down. It was higher than she was used to, but a glance behind her showed that she couldn’t go back the other way. With a grin, she sprang forward and caught the opposite ledge just in time. Her gloved hands gripped the edge with just enough strength to pull herself forward once again. With a grunt, she swung her body left, then right, then left again, gaining enough momentum and, at the last moment, swung her whole body over the ledge. With that, she was home free. She got to her feet, maintaining a crouch as she sprinted across the rooftop. The ladder was in sight and she scanned the area. Sure enough, the guards were still focused on the opposite side of the building. She pulled the harness over her head, then strapped it around her waist and thighs. This was the good part, she thought with relish. Hmmm…maybe the theft part was the best. Or perhaps it was the planning. She really loved planning things out, figuring out all the details. Or maybe, the best part was when she slipped by the guards without them even knowing something had happened. She smiled in remembrance of the job and the incomparable excitement. It was all good, she thought as she snapped the last of the hooks into place and tightened the harness. With careful eyes, she checked all of her equipment one last time. This was not the time to be careless. She’d already gone over everything four times, but this equipment check would be just as important as the first. Once she was confident that everything was in place and all the connectors were secure, she moved over to the side of the building, taking a moment to look out over the fabulous city. Chicago really was a beautiful town. Thankfully, she hadn’t planned this adventure during the winter months but even now as the October wind blew over the lake and through all the tall buildings there was a definite bite to the air. It was getting colder. This might be the last time she could take this route until springtime, she thought with regret. With a shrug of her shoulders and an eager smile on her face, she took one more breath, grasped the rope, and threw herself over the ledge with barely a sound. Down she went! With a whoosh, she flew down the side of the building. She dropped fifty stories down in just seconds, feeling the cold air swish around her. When she was about two thirds of the way down, she clamped the brake that slowed her fall. She was only three inches from the ground before she came to a full and silent stop. It took two more snaps and her thumb flicked the release. The rope zipped up into its carrier, the carrier was stuffed into her leather bag and the harness was stashed into a pocket. Only fifteen seconds after placing her feet on the sidewalk, there was no evidence that she had been here. She stuffed everything into her bag, turned her hoodie inside out so the pink part was showing instead of the black and slung her bag over her shoulder. She’d done it, she thought with increasing excitement. Maybe this was the best part. Walking away, feeling the thrill of success and the adrenaline pumping through her system. She’d gotten into the office, accomplished her goal and gotten out of the building without anyone knowing she’d even been there. She almost skipped down the sidewalk but she suppressed the urge, knowing she was supposed to be inconspicuous. Chapter 2 Ryker smiled inwardly as he pulled into his parking spot, but not a hint of that personal satisfaction showed on his handsome features. Ryker was known to be reserved, cool and in control. He rarely put his emotions on display unless he was alone with his brothers. And even then, he was the eldest, needing to be the calming influence. He knew his responsibilities and took them very seriously. That didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate life, he thought as his eyes looked around for the woman. To the casual observer, he knew that he generally looked serious and intent, but he didn’t really care. The opinions of others were of no consequence; he had more important things to worry about than whether someone perceived him as likable. Ryker didn’t mind that his staff was intimidated by him. It enabled him to run The Thorpe Group more effectively. He not only had his entire division to run, he was also responsible for the whole company not to mention his three younger brothers who tended to lean towards the boisterous side of life. Thankfully, they didn’t fight as much as they used to. Well, Xander did, but that was because of…Ryker sighed as he thought about that situation. Xander was the second oldest and in charge of the family law division of The Thorpe Group. Ryker thought about the cynicism he’d seen recently in his younger brother. It wasn’t healthy, and Xander was definitely becoming more jaded. Maybe that’s why the arguments between he and their office manager, Autumn, were getting more…pointed. Stepping out of his black Tesla sedan, he lifted his briefcase and walked efficiently towards the building’s entrance. He timed it perfectly every day and, sure enough, there she was. The exquisite woman with curly blond hair was hurrying into the building on the opposite side of the courtyard. She was lovely and had the sexiest walk, even when she was rushing. He waited until she was through the doors, watching her for as long as possible before he proceeded into his building. It was a morning ritual that he intended to stop, as soon as he could figure out how to get her to agree to dinner with him. She was painfully shy, he knew. On previous occasions he’d tried to get her attention, but she’d just scurried away after a brief glimpse in his direction. They played this game every morning, staring at each other across the courtyard, both of them obviously interested but she was too timid and ran away before he could figure out how to interact with her. He’d tried to speak with her once when they ran into each other at the deli. She’d been even more beautiful up close but she’d blushed and hurried out the door, not even getting her lunch in her rush to get away from him. He’d watched her blond curls and extraordinary figure hurry out the door as quickly as her heels could carry her but he’d caught her blush as well as the small gasp that escaped from her lush mouth as soon as she saw him. A weaker man might be discouraged but not him. That woman was worth the effort, he told himself as he pressed the elevator button for his floor. He would have her sitting across a restaurant table from him very soon. He walked into his office, his assistant, Joan, meeting him at the doorway to the lobby as she did every single morning, following behind him as she read through his early morning messages. “And lastly, Jason Moran left a message last night, wanting to speak with you urgently. This is his third message in two weeks,” she told him without any kind of expression on her face. Joan knew not to be judgmental about any of the issues that came through this office. If her boss hadn’t called the man back, there was a reason. Ryker’s eyes slashed over to Joan’s. “Jason?” he repeated, his irritation at the man’s persistence annoying. “I gave Jason to Martha as a client,” he explained, referring to one of the other lawyers in his group. “I know she called him back the last time he called. What does he need to speak with me about?” Ryker knew that Jason Moran worked in the building across the courtyard. The same building in which his introverted stranger worked. That was a promising development, he thought as he took that message and glanced down at the writing. Perhaps Jason could give him more information about the lovely mystery woman. Making the decision quickly, he handed the pink square paper back to Joan and continued into his office. “Tell Jason I can see him this afternoon. Give him whatever opening is available on my calendar after my lunch meeting.” Joan nodded and made a note, then turned and walked out of his office to follow his instructions. Chapter 3 Cricket leaned against the back of her office door, breathing deeply of the cool air and trying to slow down her frantic heart rate. She couldn’t believe that she felt so exhilarated just because that man watched her walk into the building. Even from a distance, the look was so hot, so intense she felt like she was going to burn up as she walked from the parking garage to the door and then into the building. Often, on her drive into the office, she tried to talk herself into actually looking at the man, maybe acknowledging him. She’d seen him up close once and he was…amazing! She’d been such a wimp that day. She’d seen his intention to talk to her, to actually communicate, but she’d run away. It was one thing to have a secret infatuation with a man, to build up stories about him and wonder what it would be like to actually talk to him and meet him. She imagined herself sitting down with him in a fancy, elegant restaurant, enjoying witty repartee while he laughed at her quick wit and pithy observations. Alas, she wasn’t quick witted and she rarely had profound reflections about people other than whether they had adequate security or if their jewelry was real or fake. Other than that, her normal, some might say tedious and boring, life revolved around numbers and finding the stories in the numbers. She might be able to sneak into a high security building without being noticed or find variances down to the penny in a multi-million dollar project, but conversing with a gorgeous man? Nope, she was too shy. Especially around her tall, terrifyingly huge and intimidating morning-man. She really needed to change her schedule so she wasn’t showing up at the exact same moment he was arriving each day. But then she smiled inside her tiny office where no one else could see, her body’s reaction slowing down. As long as he continued to arrive at the same time, she’d probably keep the same schedule that had her driving up at the same moment. Her mind relished the zing that she got from his look each morning which was better than a double shot of espresso. It might be silly, looking forward to simply seeing a man every morning, but she loved her morning excitement. If she changed her schedule, she’d miss that man terribly. She should be brave and just talk to the guy. Every morning, she set her alarm clock so her morning was timed to park at the exact right time, skipped breakfast if she was running late, went around the block a few times if she was early…all so she could get a glimpse of him each morning. It was more than a little pathetic, she told herself. But the idea of actually talking to him, of meeting him face to face instead of across the courtyard set her whole body to shivering in fear. What would she say to him? What could they possibly have in common? He looked like some sort of executive while she was a lowly accountant. She’d probably trip on her own feet if she got any closer to him. He made her so nervous just with a look! With a sigh, she sat down behind her dull, brown laminate desk and pulled her chair in close, turning on her computer and pulling the large stack of messy and poorly written expense reports closer, forcing her mind away from one dazzling, sexy and scary man. Now that she’d had her morning jolt it was time to start her day. Cricket smiled as she sifted through the stack of papers. She might be a boring, cautious accountant but that didn’t mean she wasn’t also a secret adrenaline junkie. Speaking of which, she thought silently… With an inward giggle, she went back to her office door and opened it once again. She definitely didn’t want to miss this morning’s excitement. Last night’s adventure had been more fun than all the rest because she’d almost gotten caught by that security guard. Well, not almost. She’d been pretty stealthy last night but she’d enjoyed the extra challenge when she’d seen him through the ventilation screen. And now it was show time. Her boss would walk into his office, see what she’d done and the show would begin. She couldn’t wait to hear the outcry when her boss walked into his office. Last night’s escapade was yet another reason she probably shouldn’t even think about the elegant stranger. Most likely, he confronted the people who irritated him head on. Cricket had a knack for being creative, but it was a silly, passive aggressive creativity. Her antics might be amusing, but still…she should just get a new job instead of dealing with Jason Moran’s petty ways. She smiled and sat back down at her desk, working diligently at the tiresome expense reports that had been piling up over the past few days, scowling at the mostly handwritten notes and trying to interpret the scribbles. Why couldn’t this company automate these reports? She’d submitted a proposal to do just that last month, had even included the cost of a relatively simple software program that would expedite the whole process and help employees get their reimbursement checks more quickly. Unfortunately, she hadn’t heard a word from Jason Moran. His silence told her that there was no way he was going to spend any money on something like a basic software package, even if it saved him more money in the long run. When she finished one expense report and set it up to be processed for payment, she pulled the next one forward, reminding herself that she’d chosen to become an accountant. She could have gotten a degree in any subject but accounting had suited her needs perfectly. And she was pretty good at it too. One had to have the ability to pay attention to small details to get this job done well which meant that the skills her mother and father had taught her growing up were perfectly suited to being an accountant. So what if she hated every moment of her day? It paid well and gave her the sense of security that she needed. That feeling was more important than loving one’s job. She’d hated the insecurity growing up, wishing desperately that her parents hadn’t been so good at their chosen profession. So no matter how much she loathed this job, she reveled in that sense of peace. This job might be mind-numbingly boring and tedious but it kept her out of prison, which is something her parent’s occupation couldn’t guarantee. Her mind was focusing on the expense reports but, once she got into a rhythm, she was able to whip through the stack in record time. There were a few that had messy handwriting and nonsensical amounts but most were pretty straightforward. Those were so easy she could almost do them in her sleep. “Hey Cricket,” Debbie, one of the other accountants poked her head into her office. “How about lunch today?” she asked. Cricket looked up and smiled. “I’d love it,” she replied, relieved to have an excuse for a break from entering numbers into spreadsheets and software programs for an hour. But then her eyes turned wary. “What about Mr. Moran?” she asked in almost a whisper. Debbie’s smile brightened and her hand waved away the concern about their boss. “I’ve already checked with Dorothy,” Debbie replied, referring to their boss’s assistant, “and he has a lunch scheduled. So there won’t be any flak from trying to take a break today.” “Excellent!” Cricket exclaimed, relieved and excited about just getting some fresh air not to mention talking about something that didn’t have to do with numbers. Jason Moran was possibly the worst boss in the world, Cricket thought. But he paid well and provided excellent benefits to his employees, probably because he was such a horrible human being and the salary and perks he provided were the only way he could keep people on staff. Otherwise, Jason Moran walked around the office yelling at people to work harder, stop taking breaks, belittling some of the more junior staff members and just generally being a jerk. Interns rarely lasted more than a week or two because he used their free labor to accomplish the tedious administrative work he was too cheap to pay someone a good salary to do. The man didn’t even like people leaving the office for their lunch breaks. Legally, he couldn’t stop employees from taking an hour for lunch, but he made snide comments when he noticed someone actually leaving for their break. He preferred having people eat their meals at their desk or in the kitchen where he could find someone if he needed them. And he made a point of interrupting lunches when too many people congregated in the kitchen so the team had learned ways to… “Where the hell are all my pens?” someone yelled down the hallway. Cricket heard the bellow and had to work hard to keep herself from bursting out with laughter. Debbie was still standing in her doorway but, thankfully, was looking in the direction of the yelling so Cricket had time to compose her features into an expression of concern and confusion. “What?” Debbie whispered as she squinted in the direction from which the bellow had come. “Not again!” she giggled then quickly covered her face with her hands to keep their boss from seeing her laughter at his expense. Debbie turned back to Cricket, a huge grin on her pixie-like features. “Oh, this is too good! After yesterday afternoon’s staff meeting, he deserves much more than someone stealing all of his…” “And how the hell did all of my pictures get turned upside down?” the man yelled again to no one in particular. Debbie stepped inside Cricket’s office so their boss didn’t see her laughing. “This is perfect,” she laughed, covering her mouth with one hand while the other held her stomach as both women laughed at the latest joke at their boss’ expense. “Who would think to turn the man’s pictures upside down?” she burst out. Cricket felt that it was now safe to release her laughter and went right along with Debbie as they both laughed while their boss, Jason Moran, stomped through the hallways on his rampage, trying to figure out who could have done something like this to his office. The man had accused several employees of disturbing his office over the past several months but since normally only his pens were stolen, the police wouldn’t even get involved. “This is not funny!” he growled when he stomped passed Cricket’s doorway and caught the two of them, as well as several other people, laughing in the hallways. “Whoever did this,” he called out to everyone in general, “you’re fired! You hear me? You’re fired!” He walked into his office and slammed the door while the rest of the staff scurried away, still snickering at the mischief maker’s bravery and creativity. Of course, that was before their boss let loose his wrath on everyone over the next few hours. He dumped the contents of the coffee pot down the drain and refused to let anyone make another pot or leave the office to grab their caffeine jolt at the deli in the lobby of the stairs. He also tossed papers across the conference room table when someone was trying to make a proposal about how to resolve an issue in the office, he stormed through the office stealing everyone else’s pens and dumped them into their garbage cans. It was a highly ineffective retaliation since everyone simply picked their pens out of their trashcans again after he left their office but it was still demoralizing. By the time he left for his lunch meeting, Cricket was feeling bad about what she’d done. Normally, Jason simply yelled and growled about her antics. He’d never actually made people more miserable as he had today. But apparently he was on a rampage to find out who was stealing his ball point pens and turning his cheap artwork upside down. Cricket frowned throughout the morning while doing the data entry that was her job. She was on her last expense report when Debbie and two other coworkers stepped into her office. “Coast clear?” Cricket asked with relish, more than ready to get out of this horrible environment. “All clear. He left five minutes ago. We’re actually one of the last to leave for lunch so grab your purse and let’s go,” Debbie urged. “Did you hear that Mona and Jeff both quit this morning?” Debbie announced, shaking her head because probably the entire staff felt the same way. Josie rolled her eyes at the loss. “We’re more insulated from his wrath because he doesn’t believe anyone here in the accounting department has any kind of imagination. We’re just boring data entry clerks in his mind.” Cricket listened to their comments but didn’t hesitate to log out of her computer for a break. She grabbed her purse and the four women were out the door, eagerly rushing towards the elevators. “Where are we going?” Cricket asked, thinking just a simple sandwich would suffice. She preferred to be back before Jason returned, not wanting to hear him growl about how his staff went out to lunch right after he did. In his mind, he’s paying everyone so, therefore, his staff should work harder than he does. Josie clapped her hands as an idea occurred to her. “Let’s spoil ourselves and hit Antoine’s for lunch. Anyone up for something decadent and fattening?” “I’m all for that. Why don’t we only order appetizers and desserts so we’re all slow this afternoon with a sugar coma?” Debbie suggested. Cricket smiled, more than ready to eat just about anything. She’d had to rush this morning in order to make it to the parking garage in time. She’d woken up fifteen minutes late and, instead of just arriving a few minutes late for work or, more specifically, late to see her mystery man, she’d skipped breakfast. She smiled while she stood behind the three other women as she remembered the thrill she’d experienced when she’d arrived just in time to walk to the building while the stranger watched her. Then it occurred to her how crazy her life had become since the first time she’d seen the handsome man. Was she really cutting out food so she could arrive in time to get her adrenaline rush now? She bit her lip and nodded to herself. Yes, she really was. But who could blame her? The man was hot! She could berate herself all she wanted in her mind, but the truth was, his gaze across the courtyard was definitely the thrill of her day. His Challenging Lover - An Introduction Autumn’s Story… “He’s hot,” Stephanie exclaimed after Joey Rider was a safe distance beyond their lunch table. Both girls smiled, trying to get the young athlete’s attention. Unfortunately, Joey only had eyes for Autumn, who was too busy reading her book. She was oblivious to his attention. Julia, who was sitting next to Autumn, nudged her friend, trying to give her a signal to look up and take an interest. But Autumn simply glanced at Julia before turning back to her book. The story was a murder mystery, and the killer was stalking the man in the red shirt. She had to find out why in the next ten minutes or the bell would ring and Auutmn wouldn’t know who the killer was until after school. “Autumn!” Stephanie glowered, Stephanie couldn’t understand what was going on – why her friend wasn’t drooling over the guy who never had given any of them the time of day before. Autumn glanced up again, looking around and blinking. But at thirteen, she hadn’t yet developed anything she might consider interesting to boys. She was tall, gangly, had zero fashion sense and there was even less to notice in the boob area. Her idea of getting ready for school was to pull on a pair of jeans, a teeshirt and her sneakers. Anything else seemed like a waste of reading time. “What did he want?” she asked, flipping the page and only partially listening to her friends. She really wanted to find out the whodunit ending. Stephanie and Julia rolled their eyes at their friend, not sure how Autumn could be so oblivious to the boys’ attention lately. In the past year, their friend had grown from a nervous, anxious girl into a slender, budding beauty. They could see it, obviously Joey Rider could see it, why couldn’t she? Stephanie placed her hand on top of the book, forcing their friend to pay attention for a moment. “Autumn, you’re going to have to take your nose out of that book sooner or later. Don’t forget, the winter dance is coming up.” Autumn nibbled on a carrot, nodding her head as if she were paying attention, but really, she was wrapped up in the story, trying to read between Stephanie’s fingers. Finally, Stephanie gave up and took her hand away, looking to Julia who only shrugged her shoulders. Julia wasn’t giving up. “The purple elephant behind you is trying to eat your hair,” Julia said, and both of them waited with mischievous smiles to see if Autumn would react. The only response was a thoughtless wave of her hand in the general vicinity of the fat braid holding back Autumn’s hair. The two friends just sighed and turned back to talk between themselves, leaving Autumn to her reading. The bell rang and the three of them stood up, carrying their lunch trays to the garbage can. “Autumn,” someone called from her right. Autumn looked around, her mind still focused on the plot in her book. “Yes?” she answered and her eyes finally focused on the tall, handsome boy standing in front of her. “Hi Joey,” she answered, suddenly feeling awkward. Joey was, hands down, the cutest boy in school. Not just the cutest in her class, but in the entire school. With him standing here in front of her, she felt painfully self-conscious, as if everyone around her was also looking, wondering why Joey would be talking to someone like her. “Hi,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “I was wondering if you were going to the dance tomorrow night.” Stephanie, realizing exactly where her friend’s mind was going, instantly stepped up and answered for Autumn. “She hasn’t decided,” she offered, knowing the words would prompt him to either show his hand and ask Autumn to the dance, or move off. Joey glanced at Stephanie, then back at Autumn. “Well, if you aren’t going with anyone, why don’t we go together?” he offered, shifting back and forth on his feet as if he were nervous. Autumn thought that idea was impossible because, well duh! This was Joey Rider! Why in the world would he be nervous while talking to her? She was the boring, studious type that liked to organize her mother’s closets and cabinets! Stephanie looked back up at Autumn, then at Joey. Before Autumn could say a word, Stephanie piped up and answered for her. “She’d love to. It would be perfect. What time?” Joey laughed slightly, running his hand over his head as if trying to smooth down his hair. “Um…how about I pick you up at seven o’clock?” he offered. Again, Stephanie waited a moment, then shook her head and turned back to Joey. “That’s perfect. Thanks Joey.” Joey moved off, smiling at Autumn who simply stood there looking confused. When they were alone again, Stephanie and Julia both grinned right back at Autumn who was still staring at the empty space where Joey had just been with wide, bewildered eyes. “What just happened here?” she asked. Julia giggled, enjoying the entire scene. “Joey just asked you out to the school dance tomorrow night.” Autumn blinked and shook her head as if to clear the fog. “Why?” Stephanie and Julia looked at Autumn, then at each other, then back at Autumn. “Are you kidding me?” When Autumn just shrugged her shoulders, they said simultaneously, “Because you’re gorgeous!” Autumn caused another giggle when she looked down at her jeans and teeshirt, realizing that there was a scuff on her Converse sneakers. “I’m pretty plain,” she replied back. Stephanie and Julia linked arms on either side of their friend, dragging her along to their geometry class. “We’ve got some news for you, girl,” Julia sighed. “You know all those stories about the ugly duckling?” Autumn sighed. “I know. I’m the ugly duckling.” Stephanie rolled her eyes as they slipped into their desks. “No silly. You’re the swan!” When Autumn shook her head, dismissing the idea as preposterous, Julia piped in. “You’ve blossomed!” she explained with emphasis. Both of them leaned closer, whispering, “And you’ve got boobs!” When Autumn’s mouth fell open, she looked down at her chest. Sure enough, something had happened! She’d always worn a bra, simply because she was old enough and all the other girls were wearing one. But she’d never really needed one. Until now! Stephanie giggled, watching out of the corner of her eye as the teacher said something to a student, preparing to start class. “You’ve got to stop reading those books and take a look at the world. And yourself. You’re gorgeous and you’ve got all the right features. You should consider becoming a model,” she urged. That finally broke through Autumn’s confusion and she threw back her head laughing, holding her stomach at how hilarious her friend’s assertion was. “A model?” she asked, taking a deep breath to calm herself down since the teacher was glaring at her now. “Be real!” Stephanie and Julia couldn’t continue to argue their point since class started, but they were both shaking their heads in amazement that their friend had no idea how stunningly beautiful she had become in the past year. By the following day, Autumn was standing in front of the mirror, worrying about what to wear while Julia and Stephanie sat on her bed, giving her advice. They’d all come home with her after school and she’d tried on several outfits already, but none of them made her feel very pretty. “Wear the denim skirt and my flowered shirt,” Julia commanded. “And wear your hair down for once!” Autumn obediently pulled on her denim skirt, the one her mother had bought her several months ago but she’d never worn because she’d always thought her legs were too skinny. She ran her hands down her thighs, wishing she weren’t so pale. And that her hair wasn’t so straight. Why couldn’t she have glorious curly hair? Or even hair with a tiny bit of body?! She sighed and flopped back onto the bed, ignoring Julia and Stephanie who were peering down at her. “This is useless! I should just call him up and tell him I’m a dumpy fool who prefers to sit on a pile of pillows and read. I can’t go out with a guy like Joey!” Stephanie looked down at her friend with amusement. “You’re going to the dance!’ she said firmly. “Get up and I’ll do your hair. You’ll look amazing,” she assured Autumn. “And I’ll do your makeup. I’ve been dying to put some mascara on those gorgeous brown eyes of yours for ages!” Julia scrambled off of the bed and burrowed in her bag. “Here. Wear these,” she commanded, holding up a pair of sandals with a kitten heel. “These will make your legs look sexy instead of skinny.” Autumn took the proffered sandals, staring at them dubiously. “Seriously? A pair of sandals are going to transform my knobby knees into something extraordinary?” she asked, thinking her friends were reading too many fashion magazines. Stephanie handed Autumn the flowered shirt. “Put them on,” she said forcefully. Autumn closed her eyes, feeling cornered and useless. “Fine. But if this is all some sort of sick joke and Joey is just luring me into the trap so everyone will laugh at me, then I’m blaming this all on you two!” With that, she sat up and let them work their magic, but she didn’t really believe that they could do anything that would dramatically change her appearance. She supposed she should just accept that she was the ugly duckling that never really un-uglied. Forty-five minutes later, Stephanie and Julia pulled her over to the mirror and forced her to take a look at what they’d done. Autumn stared back at the image, not sure who she was looking at. “Is that me?” she asked. Julia and Stephanie high-fived behind Autumn’s head but she ignored them, still staring at her reflection. Her skin was no longer pale, but looked to be creamy with just a hint of rose on her cheeks, softening her entire face. Her eyes, which had always seemed to be a boring brown, now looked huge! Her lashes actually touched the tops of her eyelids and she blinked, realizing there was a very light dusting of gold eye shadow and a thin line of eyeliner that made her eyes look….exotic! “What did you guys do?” she whispered. Even her hair, which had always fallen straight down her back, now looked fuller, almost glowing. There was movement when she shook her head! “Do you like it?” Julia asked, worried now that Autumn hadn’t said anything. Autumn continued to stare at her reflection but heard the worry in her friend’s voice. She tore her eyes away and grabbed both of them in a big hug. “I love it! I can’t believe you did it but I absolutely love it!” “Good! Now put on the sandals!” Julia ordered. Autumn accepted the shoes and slipped them onto her feet, surprised that they fit her. But she was even more surprised at how long her legs looked with the slight angle of her calves! The heel wasn’t high, but it was just enough to transform her skinny legs to sexy legs! “Wow!” The girls giggled and laughed, and continued to give her advice. Autumn listened while she picked her clothes up off of the floor and hung them carefully in the closet, ensuring that the colors and seasons were in the right place. She tended to organize things when she was nervous or anxious. Getting chaos into order was her way of controlling her world and keeping her anxiety at bay. When the doorbell rang, Julia and Stephanie both pushed Autumn out the bedroom door, encouraging her to smile and be interesting while on her date with Joey. Four hours later, Autumn accepted that her miraculous date with the cutest boy in school was a total bust. She was bored out of her mind. Joey might be cute and a total babe in the muscles department, but he was dull as dirt…and not much smarter. “So what kinds of books do you like to read?” she asked as they sat in a booth at the corner coffee shop. She’d ordered herbal tea while Joey sat across from her with his big hands wrapped around a double espresso. He shook his head, laughing. “I hate reading. It seems like such a waste of time. I’d rather be out in the world, experiencing life.” Autumn thought about that for a moment. “You have a point,” she said. “I guess I read so much and don’t actually go out and do anything.” Joey puffed up with pride at saying something right. “See? You’ve gotta come out to the driving range with me tomorrow,” he enthused. “You’ll love playing golf.” Autumn forced a smile, not sure what a driving range was or why anyone would go to one. “That sounds like fun,” she lied, not sure if she really wanted to do it, but pretty sure she shouldn’t turn him down. “Great, I’ll pick you up about ten?” he suggested. Autumn thought about her Saturday schedule and nodded. “That should be okay. I still need to ask my parents,” she cautioned. “No sweat,” he replied. She glanced at her watch and realized her curfew was approaching. “I’d better get home,” she said, standing up and sliding her chair under the table. Joey stood up as well, but just walked away from the table, leaving his empty, plastic coffee cup sitting on the table and his chair askew. Autumn picked it up and threw both of them away and adjusted the chairs, thinking of the tired waitress who would have to clean up pretty soon. Her mind instantly thought that the act of leaving trash was inconsiderate and lazy, but she pushed the thought away, trying not to judge too harshly. When he pulled up to her house, he turned off the car and shifted to face her. “I had a really nice time tonight,” he said. “And I like the way you did your hair. Very pretty.” Autumn beamed with pride and her heart was racing, pounding so hard with excitement and nervousness because she knew that Joey was going to try and kiss her goodnight. “I had fun too,” she lied once again, but told herself it was for a good cause. It was a first date, she told herself. Everyone is slightly different from who they really are on a first date. At least she suspected that was the case. She didn’t have a wide range of experience on the subject since this was her first, first date. With that small bit of encouragement, Joey leaned closer, put a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her forward. Autumn had been waiting for this for so long and here it was! Her first kiss! Joey’s lips moved over hers and they were soft and….then his tongue was pushing into her mouth. Autumn tried to pull back but Joey only deepened the kiss. It wasn’t bad, she thought, trying to get into the spirit of the moment. But she definitely didn’t like the way his tongue just sort of laid in her mouth. She pulled back, looking at him quizzically. Meanwhile, Joey looked like he’d just accomplished some major feat and she almost laughed. “Well, thanks for tonight.” She turned and opened the car door. “Don’t forget about tomorrow,” he said, leaning slightly forward. “I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow morning and teach you how to play golf.” His grin widened. “You’re gonna love it!” Autumn could only nod her head and take a deep breath to try and prevent her eyes from rolling upwards. Joey played just about every sport there was. He was the quarterback on the football team and had helped the team almost reach the state championship. He played baseball, golf and even a touch of basketball, but he hadn’t tried out for the high school team since the football and basketball seasons overlapped. As she walked inside her house, she wondered if that was all Joey was about. They’d barely been able to converse tonight because they simply didn’t have enough things in common. So why had he asked her out again? What was the point? They couldn’t talk which meant they couldn’t connect with each other. And his kiss! Blech! How annoying was that?! “How was your date, dear?” her mother asked as soon as she walked into the house. Her mother was ready for bed, sipping a cup of tea while Autumn’s father snored on the couch beside her. They were obviously waiting up for her since they normally were in bed by nine-thirty. Ten o’clock was shockingly late for her parents to be awake and here it was, eleven! “It was fine,” she said and flopped onto the overstuffed chair that faced the sofa and her parents. “Joey is nice enough, but…” Her mother smiled kindly. “He seemed like a very handsome boy.” Autumn laughed. “He’s a year older than I am and the most popular guy in the school. I have no idea why he asked me out. Especially since we have nothing in common. Not even any classes together.” Her father snorted awake at that point. “I know why,” he grumbled. “And he’s not getting it!” With those words of wisdom, he hefted himself off the sofa, kissed Autumn on the top of her head and moved off to bed. “Goodnight, my beauties,” he said as he headed up the stairs. Autumn giggled at her father, not believing for a moment that she was truly a beauty. She accepted that she might look better with makeup on, but he was only referring to Autumn’s beautiful mother when he thought of “beauty”. Autumn’s mother was exceptionally pretty, even without any makeup like right now. And what was even more important, her mother was beautiful inside. She rarely had a bad thing to say about anyone, never gossiped and always smiled her way through life. The only time Autumn had seen her mother cry was after her grandparents had passed away. Otherwise, she loved life and thought every day was an adventure. Autumn wanted to live just like that! “So tell me what happened. Did he kiss you goodnight?” Autumn’s nose wrinkled with distaste. “Yes.” “And?” her mother prompted when Autumn didn’t elaborate. Autumn sighed. “It wasn’t the stars and lightning I was expecting.” Her mother smiled gently. “I don’t really believe that there’s one woman for every man, but I do believe there’s a special chemistry between two people that is either there, or it isn’t. And there’s nothing anyone can do to create that special energy if it is missing.” She thought about that for a moment. “What happens if you have chemistry with someone and they don’t feel the same towards you?” she asked, worrying about this whole male and female relationship thing. “Or what if you feel it and you don’t like the person?” Her mother laughed. “Dear, you’re worrying about things that might not ever happen. Just relax and enjoy dating for a while,” she advised gently. Autumn leaned her head back against the chair’s cushion and thought about those words. She didn’t like not knowing. She preferred her life to be ordered and consistent. Mysteries were annoying unless she was reading one. She didn’t want to live one! “I definitely don’t have any chemistry with Joey. But he’s going to teach me how to play golf tomorrow.” She cringed as if the idea were boring. Autumn’s mother laughed softly. “Good luck with that. Your father tried to teach me to play golf. He now forbids me to even drive into the parking lot when he’s there. He says I’m worse than a water hazard, whatever that means.” Autumn laughed as well. “Mom, it means that you hit the ball towards people instead of the hole.” “Phsht!” was her mother’s only response. “So did you like him?” she asked. Autumn thought about that for a moment. “He was nice enough. Much nicer than I thought he would be. I thought jocks were generally rude, obnoxious people.” “What have I told you about stereotypes?” her mother admonished. “I know,” she sighed. “But the stereotypes form from something.” “True,” her mother replied. She stood up and came over to her daughter. “I’m sorry the chemistry wasn’t there for you, my love.” Autumn stood up as well, hugging her mother. “It wasn’t too bad,” she said as she followed her mother into the kitchen. After her mother’s cup was put into the dishwasher, they made their way up the stairs, laughing about the silly things men did to impress girls. But as Autumn slipped into bed, she wondered if she would ever find that chemistry with a man. She’d read about it in her books, craved the idea of how wonderful it would be to instantly melt when a man touched her. But so far, none of the guys in her school had even sparked a tiny bit of excitement inside of her. She stared up at the ceiling, thinking about how exciting it would be to find a man who could make her weak in the knees from just a look across the room. Someday, she told herself. It would happen to her too. She just knew it would! Xander’s Story… Xander watched warily, but with ample appreciation, as Jessica Meyers walked cautiously through the construction site. It wasn’t so much that she walked, he thought, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with a rag. Jessica Meyers glided. He’d never thought about a woman’s walk before, but Jessica had walking down to an art form, ensuring that every man between the ages of eight and eighty stopped and admired. Five minutes ago, there had been drilling and banging, power tools whirling and men calling out instructions to one another. But as Jessica crossed through the debris and construction equipment littering the yard, every man around stopped and stared, gawking at the female teen with long legs and perfect breasts, all displayed to perfection in the short shorts and skin tight, low cut teeshirt. “Hi Xander,” she said with an I-know-you-want-me smile. going?” “How’s it Xander wiped his forehead again, not sure if the sweat was completely due to working in the hot sun or from Jessica’s attention. It seemed like her curves were pulling all the liquid from his body and pouring it out through his pores, making his mouth dry. Well, not all liquid, he thought uncomfortably. “What’s up Jessica?” he asked, wishing he could bring saliva back to his mouth. He was eternally grateful for whoever invented sunglasses because he simply couldn’t pull his eyes upward long enough to focus on her face when there were so many other, more interesting, places on which his eyes preferred to focus. “We’ve all been wondering why you haven’t been to the pool this summer.” She smiled and her eyes wandered down his body, completely unembarrassed by her perusal. He was naked from the chest up, his teenage muscles protruding in all the right places while his jeans rode low on his hips, showing off the perfect contours of his abdomen…and lower. “I made it my mission to find out where you were.” Someone to his right coughed, an obvious effort to cover up his laughter. “I thought it might be time to earn a few bucks this summer,” he told her. He bent down low and lifted the next bag of cement. Since he was only sixteen, he couldn’t actually do any of the construction work, but he’d gotten a job as one of the manual laborers, which basically meant he hauled all the heavy stuff from one place to another so the carpenters or bricklayers could do their jobs more efficiently. It was hard work, but paid better than most of the other jobs his friends had been able to land for the summer. They hadn’t been big enough or strong enough to qualify, while Xander had been hired on the spot because of his height and brawn. “What’s been happening lately?” he asked, but he already knew since he was in touch with his friends. He just asked to humor her until she was ready to explain the real reason for her visit. Jessica followed Xander, picking her way through the debris like a fairy princess. Xander simply tromped over the wood and piles of equipment, his work boots protecting his feet from the nails and other sharp objects. “Well, I broke up with Lionel yesterday,” she said, obviously an opening she hoped he would take. “That’s too bad,” he said. “You and Lionel seemed made for each other.” Jessica scoffed. “I didn’t think so,” she replied with derision. “I realized quickly that Lionel wasn’t going anywhere fast.” That was news to Xander. He dumped the bag of cement onto the pile he’d already carried across the yard, vaguely noting that the construction noise had slowly resumed to previous levels. “So why are you here?” Jessica laughed, twirling a lock of hair around her fingertip while her voluptuous body posed carefully for his titillation. “I told you. I wanted to know what you’ve been up to.” Xander walked back to his starting point and hauled another bag onto his shoulder, wishing the woman would just go away. “Listen, Lionel is my friend. I know what you’re getting at and I’m not getting in the way.” She huffed for a moment, then traipsed behind him. “I’m not his personal property,” she hissed. “I can go out with anyone I want!” Xander gritted his teeth, and not from the exertion from the fifty pound bag of cement. The thought of those curves in his hands made his body tighten. He was a healthy male teenager and he might not like her intellectually, but the teenage male body didn’t need that in order to be interested. Xander was quickly discovering the male body didn’t need anything more than a willing female for his interest to be captivated. “What’s everyone else doing this summer?” he asked, even though he already knew what most of his friends were up to. They got together occasionally for pool parties and such, although he hadn’t heard that Lionel and Jessica had broken up. Jessica stared at the hard back of the man she wanted, her mind working quickly. There was no way she was going to let this guy out of her sights. Xander was bigger, stronger and more handsome than Lionel. Not to mention, Xander was more charming. She liked that. She wanted to have him on her arm and had been working towards this goal all year. She’d just kept Lionel on the sidelines as someone to keep her company while she worked on Xander. When he was about to pick up one of the other bags, she pushed it slightly off balance. He was glaring up at her when she pressed herself against his chest, her hands diving into his hair so he had no doubt about what she was going to offer. “Look Xander. I’ve wanted you for a while now. I don’t care if you see other women, but I want to be considered your girlfriend. So you let me have what I want,” and she hesitated, licking her lips and pressing herself against him more tightly, ensuring that she got her message across, “and I’ll let you have what you want. Do we understand each other?” Xander wasn’t sure exactly how to reply, but he hated the way his body reacted. Seeing her knowing smile, he knew that she was fully aware of his reaction too. “I can tell that we understand each other perfectly.” She stepped backwards, her hands sliding down his sweat-soaked chest and stomach. “So pick me up when you get off from work today and I’ll let you take me out to dinner.” With that, she walked away. Xander and everyone else on the work site watched her tight little bottom as she practically skipped through the obstacleladen yard to her car. When she finally roared off down the street, the construction noise increased once again. But after that afternoon, Xander earned the respect of every man on that work site, many of them patting him on the back when he passed by and telling him they would jump onto that offer in a heartbeat. All of them fully expecting Xander to take what was being offered by the delectable Jessica Meyers. Back home that evening, Xander jumped off his motorcycle. He and Ryker had bought it for less than a hundred bucks and repaired it the previous summer. It ran, but it was loud and bumpy, since he and his brother hadn’t been able to afford new shock absorbers or a muffler yet. Those were luxuries they were planning to install later in the bike’s lifecycle. He walked into the kitchen, the delicious scents of his mother’s cooking reaching him as soon as he walked through the door. “What’s for dinner?” he asked, kissing her on the cheek. The scent of her son’s sweat-soaked body hit her full force and she cringed, laughing at his rascally expression. “Uh! Go take a shower before dinner!” she admonished him, but kissed him back before pointing towards the stairs to reinforce her command. She was focused on pulling the cheese biscuits out of the oven, dumping them onto the cooling rack before turning once again towards the stove to stir the chili they would be having for their evening meal. Xander stole one of the biscuits and took a huge bite; it didn’t even start to ease the gnawing hunger in his belly but he was used to that. He could never get enough food, especially now that he worked construction. When his mother called out to him, he realized he might get caught with his purloined biscuit and thought quickly. “Hey Axel!” he called out to his younger brother. As soon as Axel looked up from the magazine he was reading, Xander tossed the biscuit in his direction. Axel’s automatic reflexes kicked in and he caught the missile a moment before Xander turned the corner that would hide him from his mother’s laser-sharp eyes. “Axel Thorpe!” his mother cried out when she saw the pilfered food in her son’s hand. “Those are for dinner!” Xander covered his mouth so his burst of laughter wasn’t heard while he stared at Axel’s confused face. An expression that quickly changed to anger when he realized what his older brother had done. “It wasn’t me, Mom,” Axel said, but took a bite himself. Xander didn’t hear the rest of the explanation since he raced up the stairs and turned on the shower, just in case. The water from the shower would cover the shout from his mother when he was caught. He was drying off after his shower when Ash banged on his door. Without waiting for a response, his youngest brother opened the door and tossed the phone in. “Phone call for you,” he snapped, then disappeared before any missile could head back at him. Xander picked up the phone and answered. “Hello?” “Hi Xander, this is Diana.” Xander flopped back onto his bed, a smile forming on his face. “What’s up?” “I was wondering what you were up to. I don’t have anything to do tonight and thought maybe we could hang out together.” Xander’s smile widened. “Hanging out” was hopefully a euphemism for something more interesting than literally hanging out and talking. But something cautioned him. Diane had been dating his buddy Mark back at the end of the school year. “What’s Mark doing? Aren’t you and he still going out?” The image of Jessica’s calculating eyes came to his mind and he shuddered with revulsion. Diane was pretty and he’d always thought she was sweet and kind. Diane laughed through the phone lines. “He’s out at the lake this week with his parents.” That caused every excited thought in his mind to freeze to a painful, screeching halt. “Did you guys break up or something?” he asked, trying to clarify, not sure he believed what he was hearing. “Of course not,” she laughed again. “He’s a great guy. But he’s also not here at the moment. And I was trying to drum up something exciting to do for the night.” “And I came to mind, eh?” Xander pulled on a pair of boxers and shorts, grabbing a tee-shirt before heading out of his room towards the kitchen once again. Her tinkling giggle this time just made his skin crawl. “You got it,” she replied. “So what do you say? Want to meet over at the ball field in say…an hour?” Xander thought about Jessica and Diane, not sure he liked the trend he was picking up on. “I’m going to have to pass,” he answered. “I just got off of work and I’m pretty beat.” “Oh, poor baby.” She paused for a moment and Xander could picture her pretty blue eyes trying to come up with some idea while her cute, pink tongue slipped out between her inviting, full lips. He shook his head to dispel the image, not liking what was beneath the imagined invitation. “Listen, Diane, I gotta go. My mom is calling all of us to dinner. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” “Okay. But if you change your mind, just give me a call back. Mark is out of town all week.” Xander didn’t respond, too amazed by the blatant disregard for Mark’s feelings on the subject. He picked up his cell phone and texted Mark. “Hey Dude! How’s the lake this summer?” As he was walking down the stairs to dinner, pulling a clean shirt over his head, his cell phone pinged back, indicating he had a message. Looking down, he couldn’t believe the words he read. Mark had already replied, “Gorgeous women here at the lake. Met girl named Missy. Hot!” He sat down at the dinner table, not hearing his father’s deep voice as he blessed the food or his mother’s admonishment for the men in her life to slow down. All he thought about was the disparity between what he’d always thought of relationships between men and women and the reality he was discovering. His eyes looked from one end of the table where his father joked with Ryker about something while Ash and Axel chimed in, causing everyone to laugh. Then he glanced to the other end of the table while his mother rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the antics of the five men surrounding her. He’d always thought that male and female relationships would be like his parents’ marriage, both of whom were dedicated to each other and their family. His mother went out of her way to do small things to help his father and Xander knew that his dad worshiped his mom. But several of his friends’ parents were already divorced. He didn’t mind if the couples of his group broke up and found other girlfriends or boyfriends, but he’d always thought that there would at least be fidelity within the relationship while it lasted. Hell, he’d even had several girlfriends since he’d discovered how fascinating the female population could be. But he’d never even thought of cheating on his girlfriend. He now wondered if any of his girlfriends had been with other guys. Shaking his head, he looked down at his bowl, not sure what he’d eaten for dinner, but his bowl was empty. “May I be excused?” he asked politely. His mother looked at him with a concerned expression in her eyes. “Is everything okay, dear?” she asked, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m good,” he replied, not moving his hand. He liked his mother’s soft touch, felt reassured by her hand on his arm. “I’m just beat from work today.” His mother excused him and, thankfully, it wasn’t his turn to do the dishes so he was able to get away quickly. He picked up a book and tried to read, but as the summer sun started to set over the horizon and the evening turned to night, he hadn’t turned the page. He remembered his co-workers at the site today. Most of them were married but almost every one of them had smacked him on the back and said they’d have pursued Jessica’s offer if she ever made it to one of them. He knew there were honest, faithful partners in the world. But he was quickly discovering that many were not. contemplated before. A concept he’d never even His Challenging Lover Chapter 1 Autumn stood by the side of the receptionist’s desk, praying the woman wouldn’t say the words that would once again break her heart. Just ask for any other name, she silently prayed. Any name, even someone who didn’t work here would make her feel better. Unfortunately, fate wasn’t playing nice today. “I’m here to see Xander Thorpe,” the blond woman with the almost dripping red lips said while flicking her thick, blond hair back over her shoulder. Autumn knew that the hair flip was only to show off her impressive bosom, perfectly displayed by the deep V of her red dress. Diane, the receptionist, acted professionally, exactly as Autumn had trained her. She turned to her computer with a gracious smile, her fingers poised over the keyboard as she said, “Do you have an appointment?” Diane knew that her boss, the amazingly lovely brunette with the deep brown eyes, was standing beside her stiffly, watching to see how this exchange played out. And everyone knew that there was something going on between Autumn and the gorgeous Xander Thorpe, although none were entirely sure what that “something” was. The blond bimbo, as Autumn now thought of the latest female intrusion, laughed and waved her hand. “I don’t, but I’m pretty sure he’ll see me,” she said and smoothed her hands down her hips. “Just tell him Jessica is here to speak with him.” Diane knew the process. She typed the information into the computer, then sent off the notice to Xander’s assistant, a new woman by the name of Tilly. She was a temporary employee, brought in yesterday when his last one quit without any notice. Xander had a bad habit of going through assistants at a horrible rate. With gritted teeth, Autumn slapped the file folder down onto the table and walked quickly out of the area. Her feet pushed her faster, desperate to not see… Unfortunately, Autumn didn’t make her escape fast enough. When the woman in red entered Xander’s office and closed the door, the jokes and money from the other staff members quickly started exchanging hands. “How much did you win?” James, one of the third year lawyers asked another associate just as Autumn hurried past his desk. Autumn gritted her teeth and shook her head, walking quickly by him but trying to paste a calm-looking smile on her face. As usual, wagers were being settled now that the previous girlfriend, a lovely brunette, had been replaced by the gorgeous blond. Autumn desperately didn’t want anyone in the office to know how painful she found the betting. Xander’s love life served as entertainment for the rest of the office, but it hurt her more than it should. Every time a new woman came into his life, Autumn hated Xander just a little bit more. Why should she even care who he dates? He could date anyone he wanted! She just wished he would keep his personal life outside the office. Maybe that’s what bothered her so much about his philandering ways. She hurried down the hallway, ignoring the laughter and money changing hands. It looked like a new pool was being set up. If Xander would keep his private life more private, it wouldn’t bother her so much. She preferred efficiency and order, trained her support staff to work hard, look and act professionally and be exceptionally helpful and competent.effective. The bets about how long the current flavor-of-the-moment would last reduced everyone’s productivity. Autumn knew that the betting on Xander’s love live occurred but she never participated. Everyone thought she was just being polite and trying to ignore her boss’s dalliances. But she knew better why she wasn’t delving into the bitter world of Xander’s girlfriend office pool. Axel and Ash were walking towards her and she quickly looked down. But Axel wasn’t having any of that. He caught the flash of pain in her eyes and touched her arm gently, obviously concerned. “What’s going on, Autumn? You look like you’ve just lost your best friend.” Autumn laughed bitterly. “Oh, goodness, nothing so dramatic as that,” she came back, her shoulders squared off against the pain ripping through her silly, vulnerable heart. “It’s just the changing of the guard.” At their blank looks, she sighed and said, “Xander’s old girlfriend is out and a new one is in. Everyone in the cubicles is paying up on their bets and placing new wagers on this next woman.” She was looking downwards, wishing she could just race to her own office and hide away until the pain abated, but then she caught the twenty dollar bill exchange from Axel to Ash. “That was thirty-one days, right?” he asked. She nodded numbly, unaware that her mouth was hanging open in shock that even Xander’s two younger brothers would be involved in the betting. When those dratted tears threatened to spill over her lashes, she took a deep, frantic breath and started moving around the two extremely large men. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence as she raced down the hallway and into her office. She wasn’t aware of the two men staring after her, both of them frozen into stunned silence. “Well I’ll be…” Axel said, watching until she slammed the door to her office. Ash stopped staring at the now-closed door and grinned towards his brother. “I think that’s another twenty you owe me,” he said. Axel looked at his brother, then back at the closed door one more time. “I would have sworn…” he started to say, then shook his head. “You were right.” And he handed Ash another twenty. “At least it was just around us.” Ash nodded his head as well, his mouth grim with irritation over his older brother’s insensitivity. “Yeah. She’s usually more in control.” Axel grinned as they both turned to continue their walk down the hallway. “Want to bet on when he’ll crack and admit it to her?” Ash was already shaking his head. “Hell no! Big Brother Xander realizing what’s going on?” Both men laughed as they continued towards their destination, unaware of the woman leaning against the doorway fighting back the tears. Thankfully, Autumn didn’t hear their conversation or she would have been even more humiliated. As it was, she just had to deal with the pain of seeing Xander with yet another beautiful woman. She hated this, she told herself, brutally wiping the tears from her cheeks. He was such a jerk! Why did he have to bring those women here? It was an insult to everyone’s professionalism and productivity. He should be more inconspicuous about his personal life during business hours, and he should never have his girlfriends trot around here like that! It was unprincipled and inappropriate! And it hurt! Damn the man! She sat down behind her desk and dropped her head onto her hands, trying to control the painful emotions that were threatening to choke her. She should find another job, she told herself firmly. She shouldn’t put herself through the pain of watching him come and go with those women. The idea of not being here, of not seeing…all the Thorpe brothers, caused another sharp stab of pain. She liked her job, except when there was a changing of the guard. She really shouldn’t let it bother her so much. She should just look the other way and leave him to his philandering ways. Or maybe she should talk to him, try and convince him to keep his lady loves outside the office. Too many staff members watched them come and go. Not to mention the younger men on the staff seeing ridiculous antics like that. Xander was a role model! He was teaching the younger men that women were disposable, that they weren’t worth the effort to invest in a real relationship. When the meeting notification pinged, she looked at her computer and sighed. She wouldn’t have time to consider the option of finding a new job right at the moment. She had yet another meeting to attend. Thankfully this one was just with her own staff so she wouldn’t have to sit at the conference table and feel Xander’s presence. Or even worse, fight the growing anger whenever he prodded her temper. The man was ingenious about getting a rise out of her and no matter how hard she tried to stay calm, she inevitably ended up firing one or two pointed jibes his way just to get back at him. He changed her, she thought resentfully. He made her act in a petty manner and she hated it. She wanted to remain calm and unemotional, to appear professional at all times. But he just kept on pushing her buttons, making her angry and forcing her temper out into the open. She took a deep breath and grabbed a tissue out of her drawer, patting down her cheeks. With efficient movements, she pulled a mirror out of another drawer and repaired her makeup, furious that he’d reduced her to tears this time. When her face looked calm once again, she stood up and walked to the window in her office, taking several deep breaths. From the other side of the office, Xander watched with rising fury and frustration as Autumn Hallman walked into her office, closing the door. Closing everyone out. He saw his brothers turn the corner and he made a mental note to ask them later if they knew what had upset her. He would do it now, but he had to get rid of Jessica Lilsedale. The irritating woman had attached herself to his arm last night at some charity function and he hadn’t been able to get rid of her. Why had she shown up here? He’d given her absolutely no encouragement last night. And now she wanted a private word with him? He’d gotten into the office early this morning, needing time to get work done because he had a busy schedule. Normally, the fall was a slower than normal period in his division, but not this year for some reason. Business was thriving and he was going to have to bring on a few more lawyers if this pace kept up. He ran the family law practice in The Thorpe Group, which included all family issues, but mostly it came down to the divorce division. He had a thriving practice with people almost lining up at the door wanting to tear apart the spouse that, only a few years earlier, they’d promised to love, honor and cherish. It always astounded him that people who had once claimed to love each other so much that they wanted to dedicate their lives together, could reduce their entire world down to money and a desire to hurt someone as painfully as possible, in any way available. Jessica was rattling on and on about some inane issue. All the while, he was looking down the hallway towards Autumn’s office door, willing her to come out and show her face just so he could see that she was okay. Had someone hurt her feelings? Was she overwhelmed with her work load? He’d go directly to his brothers if they were laying too much on her slender shoulders. She was just one woman, but she continued to accept more and more responsibility within the firm. Good grief, what was Jessica prattling on about now? “So what do you think?” she asked, tilting her head and twirling her bleached blond hair with her talon-tipped fingers. Xander hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “I’m sorry, what was the question?” Jessica laughed and playfully punched his shoulder. “Tonight! The party? Are you up for some fun?” Attending any social function with this annoying female was definitely not going to happen. With as much patience as he could muster, he walked the irritating woman to the elevators, ignoring her obnoxious chatter. “I’m sure you’ll have a much better time without me,” he said and took her hand, effectively releasing her grip on his arm. He lifted her hand to his lips and, as graciously as possible, kissed her fingers in an effort to send her off into the descending elevators. As soon as she was gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, the cloying cloud of perfume she left in her wake almost made him gag. Why did women insist on bathing in the rancid stuff? His mind instantly thought of the way Autumn smelled. She was always fresh and clean. He couldn’t think of a single time that she’d worn perfume. But she always smelled…incredible. Back in the office, he stood at the end of the hallway, contemplating Autumn’s closed door. She was upset and he had no idea why but it tore him apart. He had no right to feel this way. She was an employee, and an exceptional one at that. He was one of the owners, so he should remain distant and treat her just like he would any other employee. He and his three other brothers owned equal shares in The Thorpe Group and, between the four of them, they could cover about every area of law possible. What he couldn’t cover was his need to hold Autumn Hallman in his arms. Seeing her like this, her beautiful, brown eyes filled with tears, tore him apart. He hated seeing her in pain. What could be wrong? She’d been with the firm for five years, working here as a receptionist while still in college, and she’d become even more valuable as she’d matured. And more beautiful. He’d been aching for her ever since she’d first walked through the doors looking for a job, and that need had only intensified as he’d gotten to know her. He knew that she thought of him as a royal pain in the ass. At times, he annoyed her just to see her brown eyes sparkle with anger and those pretty, pale cheeks bloom with color. And other times, he was in so much pain to possess her, to be with her and be near her that he snapped at the world. His administrative assistants bore the brunt of his irritation, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure of working with Autumn every time he had to replace the previous assistant who had quit. Of course, it helped that the last several assistants were completely inept. He wasn’t one to pressure someone into quitting, just so he could have one-on-one time with Autumn. No, he’d never do that to his staff. The ones that had left over the past two years had genuinely been under skilled and possessed of a bad attitude. The last one had quit just yesterday, but he didn’t mind since he’d been about to fire her anyway. The client files were a complete mess and the woman had lost track of all of his appointments, triple scheduling clients and leaving large gaps in between. But now he felt like someone was tearing off his arm – all because Autumn was upset about something. And she had to be genuinely upset because, unless she was snapping at him, she never let her emotions interrupt business. This was extremely unusual. “Ms. Davenport is here to see you,” his temporary assistant said, handing him the file. Xander took the file with resignation. He wanted to toss the file into his office and storm down to Autumn’s office so he could fix whatever had hurt her. Instead, he focused on his next client, reading through the file and skimming through the details. “She has coffee already?” Xander asked, distracted by the file and thinking about Autumn, worried that someone in the office might have hurt her feelings. No, that was impossible. Besides him and his brothers, there wasn’t anyone with as much authority in the office as Autumn. She ruled the schedules and the case loads with military precision. If anyone dared to irritate her, she quickly and efficiently put them in their place. He loved hearing that too. When one of the other lawyers tried to get uppity, she’d simply give them a piece of her mind. Anyone who came up against the mighty Autumn Hallman went away with their tail between their legs. Except him. He loved going head to head with her. Unfortunately, he knew that Autumn wasn’t interested in him. She had her own life, her own hobbies and plans for the future. But he couldn’t stop his eyes from looking at Autumn’s closed door before he sighed and made his way into his own office. Ms. Davenport awaited. She was on her third marriage and each one made her wealthier than the last. With his help, of course. Chapter 2 Autumn came into the office early the next day, needing to get some work done in the quiet time before the rest of the staff came into work. She couldn’t believe the week she was having. First, her best friend gets arrested for murder and next, yet another assistant quits on Xander. That was the third one in six months! What does that man do that annoys them so much? Okay, so the last one wasn’t up to scratch. She was embarrassed to say it, but she’d known from the beginning that that one wasn’t going to work out. But in her defense, she had to work closely with Xander each time they hired a personal assistant for him. During that last round, she’d just short circuited the interview process because it was getting harder and harder to be around him. Keeping her distance was the most important way she kept her sanity while working so closely with him. Unfortunately, doing interviews for his assistant meant sitting next to him, feeling the man’s heat emanating from his body even from the distance she maintained from him. She couldn’t handle that for more than a few days so she’d convinced him that the last woman was good enough. Now she had to pay the price for cutting the interview process short. She had to go through the whole process over again: sit next to him, listen to his teasing comments, and argue with him about one candidate or another. It was an exhausting process. She couldn’t understand why even her office had to be so close to his. It was like the man invented ways to torture her. But of course, he couldn’t know how she felt about him. To the rest of the office, she and Xander were combatants with brief periods of peaceful coexistence. Lately though, those peaceful periods were few and far between. They had been snapping at each other more often lately and, although at times it was exhilarating, she had to admit that it sometimes became exhausting. Especially when one of his lady loves came to pick him up for their date. She truly hated the man during those periods. It wasn’t even that the man had a type! He dated redheads, blonds, brunettes. He escorted celebrities, famous actresses, social butterflies and power-hungry career women. With a sigh, she wiped her eyes and shook her head. “Enough!” she told herself firmly. “The day marches on!” And so would she. She turned around and looked at her computer. She had numerous issues to deal with and not much time to finish them. She was worried about her friend Mia who was battling murder charges, but every time she asked Ash about her, he just told her that he had everything under control. She had to trust him on that. And if anyone could get Mia out of that mess, it would be Ash. He was brilliant. Mia would be in the office again today, answering more questions from Ash and his team. Maybe the two of them could catch a movie tonight, escape from the pressure of Mia’s murder charges and Autumn’s irritating boss. She sighed and slid her chair under her desk, losing herself in the latest plans to make the law firm more efficient. Once again, she lost track of time as one issue after another cropped up during the morning. She loved her job, loved the way people relied on her to smooth out the troubles. Fixing things was her forte and she thrived on finding good solutions to every problem and keeping The Thorpe Group organized. When she finally realized how hungry she was, it was past the normal lunch period. She grabbed her wallet and headed outside, raising her face up to the warm sunshine. There wouldn’t be too many more days like this, she thought. The days were already shorter and there was a definite bite to the night time air. Winter was coming quickly. Despite the later hour, the lunch crowd at the building deli was heavy and Autumn sighed as she waited at the end of the line. This deli was always crowded but it also had the best sandwiches at a reasonable price for several miles. They made some sort of sauce that added a zing and a zip, making the whole experience much more enjoyable. No one knew what that sauce was, but several people had tried. Occasionally there were recipes in the office kitchen where someone thought they might have figured out the recipe. No one had discovered the formula exactly though so the mystery remained. Normally, she would have called in her order and had it waiting at the checkout line, a great service the deli provided. But it had been too busy today in the office. And because she’d had trouble falling asleep last night, worrying about Mia and Xander and wondering what he might be doing, she’d woken up too late to grab something for breakfast. So here she was, waiting impatiently for her chance to order a sandwich. She glanced across the street, considering just grabbing a yogurt at the small convenience store. It would certainly be faster, but at that moment, the line moved forward and she stuck with her desire for a filling, spicy sandwich. “Hey!” a voice called out from somewhere to the left of her. She glanced in that direction, but she was too hungry to give it much thought. Suddenly, the crowd parted and she saw what was happening. And couldn’t believe her eyes! “Get the hell out of the way, lady!” a brutish, bullish man was saying to an elderly woman wearing sensible shoes and a warm cardigan even on the warmish October day. Her grey hair looked frazzled and her eyes nervous as she watched the man with the fuzzy mustache warily. Another man, this one thinner and taller, shook his head. “She was in line first,” the stranger said in a placating tone, but even he didn’t want to confront the portly blowhard. “Oh yea?” the man taunted, his eyes narrowing and his hands balling into fists. “Well, prove it!” he snapped and started forward. His intent was clear and everyone around scattered, pushing backwards to avoid getting caught in the fight. The horrible man swung out, his hand missing the thin gentleman but side striking the elderly lady who went down with the initial bump. Her cry of fright was heard by one and all but no one stepped forward to intervene. A small part of Autumn’s mind was still functioning properly and told her to stay out of it. But the other part of her brain, the part that wasn’t functioning rationally and was outraged that someone would hit an elderly person, was in control and she was livid that this man had hurt someone who was just standing, waiting for lunch. Instead of pushing back into the crowd, she stepped forward, her instincts made her grab onto the fat man’s arm. Unfortunately, she realized too late that the arm wasn’t just lard, but packed with muscles. But by the time she realized that, he was already turning around to confront his newest threat. Autumn dropped the man’s arm and stood with her feet braced apart, her hands at the ready, trying to anticipate what the burly man might do next. “Call the police,” she ordered to the crowd. Not to anyone in particular, and she knew that the police wouldn’t be able to get here in time to save her but she threw that out as a threat anyway, hoping the man would stop and think. It might even give her a tiny reprieve, enough to slow him down. No such luck. The call for the police only enraged the man further. That rational part of her mind, the part that wasn’t blanking out with the anger over what this man had done, noticed all the other men and women standing back, their mouths open and their eyes wide with amazement of all that was unfolding. It flashed through her mind that, if everyone put their efforts together, they could stop this man simply by grabbing his arms and pinning him to the ground. But obviously no one was thinking clearly. Not even her. And the man rushed her, his fist swinging out and clipping her under her jaw while his other hand swung out and aimed for her ribs. She gasped at the pain, twisted slightly and used the man’s momentum to throw him off balance. He came back at her in only seconds, not giving her enough time to regroup. As she stared at the bloodlust in his eyes, she knew that the previous tackle was only a precursor to this one but she spun around and braced herself, prepared to do whatever it took to stop this man. All she saw was him coming towards her one moment and the next, he was gone, slammed up against the wall of the deli with his arm twisted behind his back and his right cheek smashed so he wasn’t able to look anywhere but up at the ceiling. “So, you like taking swings at women half your size, eh?” Xander was saying, twisting the man’s arm slightly and causing him to flinch again. “How about if you take on someone a bit bigger and see how you fare?” he asked. There was applause all around but Autumn only saw Xander’s enormous, magnificent body as he glared down at the portly man. She knew she should hide her appreciation for his tall, muscular form, but it was simply too impressive. There was another commotion over by the doors as the police belatedly arrived, hands on their pistols as they quickly surveyed the situation. When they saw who was holding the man, both police officers’ jaw dropped. “Are you okay, Mr. Thorpe?” one of them asked, rushing over with his handcuffs in his hand, efficiently taking over the man being restrained. “I’m fine. But this man assaulted the lady on the floor and Autumn Hallman, my office manager.” The police officer was more than a little overwhelmed by the idea of talking to Xander Thorpe. He was sort of a legend in the boxing ring as well as the legal community. But the officer squared his shoulders, eager to look good in front of the man most officers revered. “We’ll book him for assault and battery as well as disorderly conduct,” the other officer said. He went over to the elderly woman, helping her stand up and checking her to see if she needed an ambulance. Meanwhile, Xander spun around to glare at Autumn and she cringed at the furious look in his indigo blue eyes. Why was he angry with her? Okay, so that was a silly question. Xander was always angry with her for one reason or another. And normally, she would spit the fire right back at him, giving as good as she got. But she’d never seen him this furious. Normally, he reserved his anger to sarcastic, pithy comments in a meeting or biting remarks when she didn’t find him a staff addition or replacement quickly enough. This was a whole new level of fury. With the police officers trying to organize the witnesses, get statements and haul the brute away, Xander walked slowly towards her. Actually, it wasn’t so much walking as it was stalking. There were only about five steps separating both of them, but it seemed like a lifetime for him to reach her. When he was less than an inch away from her, she looked up into his blue eyes, her neck craning back because she couldn’t move backwards and he wasn’t relenting. He didn’t say a word. He simply grabbed her arm in a vicelike grip and hauled her out of the deli. “We’re going to need Ms. Hallman to give us a statement,” one of the officers was saying as Xander dragged her to the doorway. Autumn scrambled to keep up but it was hard because the Xander was so much taller than she was. Well, and she was wearing three inch heels. She knew they made her legs look awesome, but they didn’t make running too easy. “I’ll bring her to you later,” Xander replied to the officer as politely as his anger would allow. The Billionaire’s Masquerade Rachel stepped out of her vehicle, surprised that the only irritation she felt was a bird’s mild call in the distance. Where was the oppressive heat? Where was the humidity that caused a body to long for a cold, refreshing drink? Looking around, she took a deep breath and smelled nothing but….was that nature? She almost laughed, thinking of her childhood memories. As an adult, her morning smells were coffee, sometimes suffocating car exhaust and, depending on the day, the irritating scent of the photocopier ink when someone was printing out a large print job. It had been a long, long time since she’d smelled anything so…organic. And the sounds! She stood absolutely still for a long moment. There was nothing but a bird calling out for her mate in the distance and a few rustling sounds as the wind played tag with the leaves on the trees. If it weren’t for her urgent, career-changing meeting, she might actually relax. She suddenly realized what she was doing and shook her head, trying to clear her mind of both the memories as well as the idea that dirt could be a good smell. She hated dirt. She hated the heat of the summer sun pressing down on the top of her head until she felt like sinking to her knees in defeat. It wasn’t that hot at the moment, but she suspected it could be. No, she preferred a nice, air conditioned room where she didn’t feel her silk blouse sticking to her skin or the wall-like impact of the intense humidity of summers in Virginia. Rachel tugged her black blazer down over her hips, smoothing out the expensive fabric in the hope that she didn’t look as terrified as she felt. “This is it,” she whispered as she stood outside her little rental car, staring at the rough, gravel road ahead of her. “Why the man had to live out here in the middle of nowhere…” she left the end of the disparaging sentence dangling. Her prey was a recluse; no photos of Emerson Watson could be found and he was notoriously grouchy and mean. An ogre, according to some. So it was probably a good thing that the man lived out here all alone. No one to irritate him, he couldn’t hurt other’s feelings and he probably was able to concentrate better out here in the middle of nowhere…yes, grouchasaurs should be isolated. She thought of the movie with the huge green man and the plaid, frayed pants. Keeping that silly image in her mind helped abate some of the anxiety over her unannounced interference in the man’s obvious preference for isolation and solitude. “But that’s not going to stop me!” She started forward, almost tiptoeing down the dirt and gravel road so her three inch heels, her favorite red ones that made her feel strong and confident, wouldn’t get dirty. “First impressions,” she gritted out, wanting to make a good first impression with the man in question. As she walked down the driveway, she ignored the low-level buzzing that was coming from the bushes, pretending to not be nervous about the possible bee hives that could be hidden in the tall, flowered shrubberies. Instead, she stared straight ahead, refusing to be intimidated by either the length of the driveway or the height of the bushes surrounding her. It almost felt like she was walking out of civilization. It seemed so isolated, almost lonely back here. Rachel wasn’t the kind of person who needed people around at all times, but there was something almost…desolate about this gravel road. Why would anyone want a one lane road leading to their house? How could people easily come and go, socialize and network? Okay, the man is famous for being a recluse. So he probably doesn’t socialize. He is probably fat and gross and irritating so no one cared that he had a crazy-long, almost inaccessible driveway because they never visited! She’d been walking for perhaps ten minutes when she heard a different, nonnature produced sound. It was very faint, but definitely a sound other than a bird or un-seen, rustling animal and her shoulders relaxed somewhat. At least there was some form of humanity out here along the rustic, Maine coastline! She pulled on the bottom of her jacket one more time, assuming the only person who would dare to be out in this crazy nature stuff would be none other than the reclusive Emerson Watson himself. She smoothed the wisps of hair back that had escaped during her precarious trek and straightened her shoulders, trying to appear as tall and confident as possible. Taking the last few steps around the latest bend in the driveway, she looked around with what she hoped was a gracious smile on her face. But as soon as she took in the sight, she slumped in frustration. This couldn’t be Emerson Watson’s house. The one bedroom cottage had all the windows open, a comfortable looking rocking chair on the front porch where several new boards needed to be replaced and weeds growing all over the cracked, concrete sidewalk. She could see the potential of the cottage. With some work, this tiny house could be very quaint and comfortable. She didn’t know what it looked like inside, but the outside looked rundown and almost sad. Nope, the shockingly wealthy Emerson Watson wouldn’t be caught dead in this abode, she thought with disappointment. She looked to the left and the road continued further through even more bushes so this tiny little cottage must be someone else’s home. It was cute enough, she thought. Maybe some bright curtains on the windows, a few pillows and comfortable chairs on the front porch…some shrubs and flowers to soften the outside. Well, and a good coat of paint…yes, this house could be perfect! But Emerson Watson was one of the ten wealthiest men in the world. He was a legend in the investment community with a reputation for being ruthless in business. The man had built up his investment corporation, luring the wealthiest clients from all over the world, and compounding their wealth several times over with his secretive investment strategies. The Securities and Exchange Commission investigated him five years ago as a possible Ponzi scheme because his investments almost never lost money and earned significantly higher than the average funds could even dream of achieving. He’d been completely exonerated and the investigation, which would leave some investors doubtful, had instead only added to the Watson legend. Now Rachel wanted in. Emerson Watson chose one stock broker every year as an intern, teaching that person his secrets. Rachel wanted to be that person this year. She was sick of being one in a large ocean of stock brokers. Every intern Mr. Watson selected went on to gather even more clients. No one ever left his employ, simply moving from being an intern to an employee who worked out of whatever office in the world they chose. She was determined to do everything in her power to become his next intern. She’d psyched herself up to not allow any of his reputed grouchiness to hurt her feelings. She was tough and impervious to insults. Well, in truth, Rachel admitted to herself that she might be a tad bit too sensitive, but she could learn to be hard and tough. She could learn anything. And Emerson Watson was the man who was going to teach her! She was no longer playing it safe. She was going to get out into the world and push herself out of her comfort zone. Even this little weekend adventure to speak with the elusive Emerson Watson was hugely out of her comfort zone! She pretended that her knees weren’t shaking with fear and her hands weren’t trembling. This was how successful people became more successful! She was intrepid! Okay, so she wanted to be fearless. Just “fake it till you make it” was her new motto. Turning around, she looked down the driveway, gearing herself up for another long hike, biting her lip in indecision. She looked down the gravel road, trying to calculate in her mind how far she’d walked already and how much further the main house might be. So she didn’t see the movement to the left of her until it was almost too late. Emerson Jackson Watson almost fell off of the ladder on which he was working when the woman emerged from the around the corner. Where the hell had she come from? He hadn’t heard anything a moment ago and she’d just appeared with her sexy red shoes and full, luscious lips that she was nervously mauling with her pretty, white teeth. He steadied himself and leaned his arm against the low roof of the cottage, his eyes taking in the strikingly beautiful mystery woman with the incredible legs and impossibly high heels teetering on her toes as she walked down the driveway. Her black suit cinched in at the waist, giving him a perfect view of her sexy figure. Did she have any idea how feminine she appeared? He suspected she’d chosen that black suit and those smoking hot, red shoes as a power play, but it had backfired because her breasts were too full, pressing against the black fabric of her suit jacket and her waist seemed tiny in comparison. Those heels only made her legs look like a stripper’s although he suspected she’d paid four or five hundred dollars for those killer shoes. His eyes traveled back up her figure, appreciating all the delicious, appealing details until his eyes reached her face and he couldn’t stop the punch to his gut when he took in her full lips and almond shaped eyes surrounded by thick, black lashes. There was barely any gloss left to shine on those lips which only allowed her natural color to come through. And those pink, luscious lips were enticing enough but her eyes! Those green eyes were startling! He wanted to stare into those eyes with the lengthy, thick lashes while he filled her up. He wanted to see what those eyes looked like when she was smiling or sad or, even better, when she was…. He shook his head and tried to remove those images from his mind. Women were a distraction he didn’t need. When he needed a woman’s touch, he had several lady friends in town who were more than accommodating. He definitely didn’t need a wannabe power woman. “Can I help you?” he asked, enjoying her surprise when she saw him. Rachel’s eyes snapped to the right and she couldn’t stop the gasp that blew from her lungs when she looked over at the man standing on the ladder by the house. As an avid gym-goer, Rachel knew what a buff, male body looked like. And this man’s physique was beyond anything she’d ever seen. She wasn’t sure how tall he was since he was standing on a ladder, but she suspected that he was taller than the average man. But the extraordinary things were the rippling, amazing muscles that covered his body. It wasn’t like he was a body builder with bulging muscles all over, but there were plenty of those. It was more that there were just muscles….everywhere! He was tall and lithe with those sumptuous, extraordinary muscles covering every part of his body. Her eyes did an inventory of all those muscles, irritated when she couldn’t see past the low riding, well-worn jeans that were loose around his hips. She swallowed painfully when those muscles flexed and she looked up, suddenly realizing that he was moving. Towards her! All those lovely, sweatcovered muscles were descending that ladder, his strong hands flexing as he grasped and un-grasped the ladder as he climbed down and her eyes were drawn to the appearing and disappearing muscles along his arms and back. Everything glistened in the sunshine and she felt like she was going to pass out from the blood rushing through her body at a crazy, pulse pounding rate. That was when she realized that she’d stopped breathing and she took a gasping breath, trying to quickly regain her equilibrium. She was just starting to find her balance when she realized how tall he was. As he approached, she had to lean her head back farther and farther until he was standing about a foot away from her, towering over her with crystal blue eyes that were so startling, she thought she might just melt into a pool of lust right there on the gravel driveway. When she realized she was just staring at that gorgeous expanse of tanned, muscled chest with her fingers and palms itching to touch all that glorious skin, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her embarrassment painful. “What are you sorry for?” he asked softly, feeling cold now that her heated eyes weren’t traveling up and down his body. She didn’t like the breathy sound of her voice, but she didn’t like the way she’d objectified this stranger. She’d treated him abominably and she was ashamed. “I was looking at you inappropriately,” she admitted, stiffening her shoulders and trying to look anywhere but at his chest. Didn’t the man have a shirt? His soft laughter melted over her tense shoulders until he said, “Don’t worry about it. I was doing the same to you before you realized I was here.” She hmphed at that and looked at the house, at the beaten up old truck with all the painting equipment and tools piled in the back. She wasn’t exactly sure how to react to that, but wished she hadn’t blushed so brightly. “Well, still….” “What brings you out to Cape Elizabeth?” he asked gently. Rachel stared at her hands, then back at the cottage again. “I’m…um…” it took her several seconds to remember why she’d actually come here. She looked around…the bushes, the gravel drive, the cottage…none of it made sense with this gorgeous, muscled stranger standing in front of her. All her mind could think about, wonder about was how much she wanted to touch his skin, to taste him and bury her nose…. Good grief! She’d never reacted to a man like this before and she was horrified at her undisciplined behavior! Focus! She wasn’t here to gawk! What was she doing here? And where was the man’s shirt?! “Oh…I’m looking for someone,” she answered, relieved when her memory returned. Was that piece of fabric draped over the bannister of the front porch his shirt? She stepped around the extremely large male and walked over to the piece of fabric and picked it up, refusing to lift it to her nose to smell it. Surely it smelled awful, wouldn’t it? But the man didn’t smell. At least not bad. There was something….just right about the way he smelled despite the sweat covering all those fabulous, taut muscles. She handed the shirt to him delicately, silently indicating he should put the shirt on and cover himself in front of her. Unfortunately, the subtle hint didn’t really work though because the obnoxious man just tossed that shirt over his shoulder. Rachel wasn’t sure if she was irritated that he hadn’t covered up some of those muscles or if she was relieved that he hadn’t put the shirt on and covered all of them so she could speak with him intelligently. His exposed chest was making her stupid! “Who are you looking for?” he asked, wiping his hands on a rag he dug out of the back of the truck. “He’s probably your employer,” she said carefully, looking down to check her red shoes. “Mr. Emerson Watson.” “Why do you want to talk to him?” the stranger asked. Why had he gone tense for that fraction of a second? He must not like his employer, Rachel sighed. If everything she’d heard about Mr. Watson was true, she wasn’t going to enjoy working for him either. She looked around, desperate to focus once more on her mission but she was having trouble with him standing there with his bare chest looking so enticing! “Could you please put that shirt on?” she snapped, glaring at him.