Her Dark Melody- A Billionaire Romance - Michelle Love(ang.)

HER DARK MELODY A BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

MICHELLE LOVE

CONTENTS

Copyright and Disclaimer Free Gift Her Dark Melody Her Dark Melody Extended Epilogue Vengeful Seduction His Brother’s Wife Rockstar Untamed Sneak Peeks About the author Copyright and Disclaimer

COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER

©Copyright 2018 by Michelle Love - All rights Reserved In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights are reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

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Went to the toy store for my kid, came home with a woman for me… Something inside of me began to smolder for her that hot afternoon. Once I had her within my walls, I couldn’t think about anything other than getting my hands on her, using her body to quench the fire that had grown inside me. Taking her in every way imaginable and making her beg for more, were my devious plans. She’d become my hot little muse, making nightly visits to her master’s bedroom to lend me some of her sexual magic. But would our little secret be the only thing that could separate us… Sign up now, and read the story that will take you on whirlwind ride, sure to please.

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HER DARK MELODY A BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

Accepting a booking to perform at a fundraiser for billionaire Atlas Tigri’s charitable foundation in Seattle, singer Ebony Verlaine makes an immediate impression on the handsome entrepreneur. When Atlas seeks her out after the gig, their intense attraction quickly becomes sexual, and a red-hot, sizzling affair begins. Unbeknownst to Atlas though, Ebony has a secret. She’s pregnant and terrified of what will happen to her and her child. Ebony is in denial as she focuses on her new love and as time goes by, she finds it harder and harder to tell Atlas the truth about the pregnancy and the father of her child. Atlas invites Ebony to spend Christmas with his family and she is quickly accepted by Atlas’s identical twin brother, Mateo, and his six-year-old son, Fino. As the holiday progresses, family friction

begins to creep in – the Tigri’s step-father, Stanley Duggan, is a kindly man, but his son and his new wife and step-daughter are a mixed bunch. Cormac Duggan despises his flighty and fun stepbrothers, and ex-model Vida wants her daughter Bella to be a huge star – despite the fact Bella has no discernible talent. Ebony stays out of their way, but when Mateo is found dead, it becomes clear a killer is in their midst. Suddenly thrust into a ready-made family, Ebony comforts a devastated Atlas and Fino, . To keep her new family safe, Ebony will have to prove she is everything Atlas hopes she is…and more…

Part One Chapter One

NEW ORLEANS

E BONY VERLAINE STARED at the plastic stick in her hand in dismay. God, no. She leaned her head

against the cool tile of the bathroom and let a few tears escape, feeling utterly hopeless. Her whole world shifted at that moment as she saw everything she’d worked so hard for disappear. Pregnant. Pregnant and alone at twenty-six. God dammit. Outside the bathroom, she heard a voice and pulled herself together. She was at the Gabriella Renaud Foundation, the charitable organization which had been mentoring and supporting her over the last two years. Her best friend Juno Sasse, now her sister-in-law, had at first been her tutor, guiding her through singing lessons and songwriting, preparing her for a career in the music industry. Since she was young, Ebony had loved singing and performing. It was a no-brainer that she would follow that love into a career, but while the executive she had met had praised her smoky, rich voice, and been even more enthusiastic to exploit her dark beauty, all of them had balked at releasing jazz and blues. She’d lost count of how many of them tried to steer her into a pop career – something she had no interest at all in. As word spread and she was painted unfairly as a diva, the offers dried up. Despondent, she continued to sing in New Orleans’s jazz clubs until Livia Chatelaine approached her.

Herself a musician, Livia was the head of a charitable foundation which focused on giving opportunities to musicians outside the mainstream, along with those who couldn’t afford a place at a traditional college. To Ebony’s amazement and delight, Livia was crazy about jazz and a real kinship developed between the two women. “We’re moving toward releasing our own recordings in partnership with Quartet,” Livia told her at that first meeting. “We’re keeping it small, keeping our roster tight and exclusive, and we won’t release anything until we’re sure you’re ready.” Ebony laughed. “You realize you’re handing me my dream…for free? It’s incredible.” “Don’t get too complacent,” Livia teased. We ask for full commitment. We’ll work your ass off if we think you’re worth it – and I do. Your voice is once-in-a-lifetime, Ebony. It would be a crime not to champion you.” Ebony sipped her iced tea, her mind whirling. “Livia…you must have heard the rumors about me. That I’m a diva? That I’m never satisfied?” Livia’s smile faded. “Let me put those rumors into perspective. They were put around by old white men who run recording companies that only deal in

profit. They also like to tell women what to do, how to dress, what to eat…I don’t believe the rumors. You’re clearly a strong woman who follows your passion, and who is unwilling to compromise to make a quick buck. That, Ebony Verlaine, is why I reached out to you.”

E BONY REMEMBERED her mentor and friend’s words now as she dumped the pregnancy stick in the trash – carefully hidden. This wasn’t going to derail her life, she decided firmly. She could only be two weeks pregnant – she’d only been with one man in months – so she had plenty of time to think about her next steps. She washed her hands and splashed water on her face before making her way back to her small recording studio. Juno was waiting for her, and to Ebony’s delight, Livia was there too. She hadn’t seen her friend for a few weeks – Livia had just given birth to her fourth child, a girl called Amita. It was an odd feeling, holding the gorgeous little girl, knowing she could one day have one of her own. “She’s so beautiful…and so tiny!” Livia and Juno laughed. “They come like that,” Livia said, “although they don’t feel so tiny when they’re coming out.”

Both Ebony and Juno winced, and Livia grinned. “You wait and see.” Ebony turned away, pretending to grab some work from her bag. “Hey, I finally finished that song we were working on.” She handed over the score to Juno, who rolled it out. “This looks good…maybe a couple of tweaks, but we’ll run it through. Anyway, before we start work, there’s a reason Liv is here. We have a proposal for you.” “What’s that?” Ebony asked, putting aside her worries about the future in favor of curiosity. Juno grinned. “Romy called me last night. The organization she works for is having a huge fundraising event and they need someone to perform at it.” “Juno called me, and we both agreed – it has to be you, Ebony. You are so ready for this. You’ve been working your ass off, now it’s time to get some more actual experience. It’s going to be a pretty big deal.” Livia looked as excited as Ebony felt. “Really? God, that’s incredible.” Ebony had missed performing, but the next moment she was filled with anxiety as Livia told her the scope of the event.

“Although the facility is for people with few means, this event is high society – it’s a few thousand dollars a plate, all the money going to the facility, of course.” Ebony felt her legs shaking and had to sit down. “So, I’ll need to perform a song?” “A set, maybe seven to ten tracks. It’ll be in Seattle,” Juno added as an afterthought, “and it might mean spending Christmas in Seattle. Romy says she’d be happy to have you stay with her if you don’t want to be stuck in a hotel.” Ebony smiled. “Back home to Seattle.” Juno grinned. “Word. Obe and I will come up for the holidays so you won’t be alone, but we can’t actually be there for the performance, sadly.” “Atlas Tigris is the chairman of the event. He told me that if the performance goes well, he might need you for more charity events and has offered to pay you twice the going rate. You can do this, Ebony, you could do it in your sleep, and working for the Tigri family comes with immense benefits. Their step-dad, Stanley Duggan, is a heavy hitter in the music industry, and he’s a sweetheart too.” “You don’t have to sell me on this, I’m in. When is the gig?”

“December 20th, for the fundraiser, but Atlas may need you for the New Year’s Eve party too. Think you can handle that?” Ebony felt a wave of relief flood over her. Worrying about the pregnancy could wait until after this. “I can handle it.” she grinned at her friends. “I won’t let you down.”

SEATTLE

ATLAS TIGRI GLANCED at the clock. Almost ten p.m. Even when he had been in pharmaceuticals, he’d never worked this late, this often. “It’s because you’re doing something you love,” his brother Mateo had once said to him mildly. “You’re going to go that extra mile.” Mateo was right. Ever since Atlas had decided to set up this facility to take care of battered men and women who needed surgical and medical help, he’d been putting in twenty-hour days but never once felt exhausted. The only time he felt lonely was when he spent time with his friends, Romy and Blue. Both surgeons, they were madly in love with the other.

They welcomed him as part of their family, but as much as he adored them, their happiness made him realize how much he missed having someone in his life. Someone for just him. His family was his life. His twin brother Mateo was the person he was closest to; he shared not just the same glorious handsome face, black curls and green eyes with Atlas, but a similar personality – although Mateo tended to be louder than Atlas. Mateo had a seven-year-old son, Fino, whose mother had dumped the newborn on Mateo and taken off, never to be heard from again. Mateo adored Fino, and his son worshipped his father. Seeing them together made Atlas yearn for kids of his own, but the truth was, he didn’t have time to seek a partner out. At various fundraisers for the facility, he’d attracted the attention of some of Seattle’s socialites, but he just couldn’t create a spark that wasn’t there. He found them shallow and vapid. “Hey, you. Still awake?” Romy Sasse was at the door to his office now, her long hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, spots of fresh blood on her white coat. She flopped into a chair opposite him. Atlas studied her pale, drawn face.

“You okay?” “Just had an emergency brought in. Women got cut up pretty badly by her ex. Asshole.” Romy’s jaw tightened. “She didn’t make it.” “God, I’m sorry, Romy.” Atlas saw how exhausted his friend looked. Romy had given birth to twins only three months previously but had eschewed most of her maternity leave. Now Atlas wondered if she regretted leaving her job at Rainier Hope Hospital to come here. It wasn’t like she got paid to do this – not that Romy or her husband needed the money. For the last nine months, she had worked tirelessly with Atlas to set up this center for abused partners, and for the most part, they knew they had done a great thing for Seattle. Days like today, though, and Romy looked downhearted. “You can’t save them all, Romy.” Atlas got up and poured her a cup of hot coffee. Romy took it gratefully. “I know, boss.” She sighed, sipping her drink. “Look, let’s focus on something else. Harriet told me that everything is planned for the fundraiser?” Atlas smiled. “It is indeed. Juno called me, told me her singer friend was all set.” “Ebony? That’s great…honestly, Atlas, when you

hear her sing…she’s incredible. Such a lovely person too.” “Stanley told me she had impressed some recording people in L.A. but they didn’t pick up her option because she wouldn’t change her genre to pop?” “That’s right.” “Good for her, sticking to her guns. Shows integrity.” Romy nodded. “You got that right.” She ran a hand over her face. “Good, so it’s all settled.” She glanced at the clock. “Do you mind if I take off? Clark’s in to cover, and my babies will already be asleep.” “Of course, small fry.” Romy grinned at him. “And you go home too, Atlas. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how late you’ve been working.” “I haven’t got the impetus to go home as much as you,” he brushed away her concern but got to his feet anyway. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

MATEO WAS STILL AWAKE and eating a ridiculously overstuffed sandwich in their huge kitchen when

Atlas walked in. He offered the other half to Atlas, who, suddenly starving, thanked him. “How’s business?” Mateo asked, his mouth full. Atlas’s brother’s curls were even shaggier and in need of a cut than Atlas’s own. He wore a simple white cotton shirt, even in the middle of a Seattle winter. Mateo’s business, wine importing, took him all over the world, and he still retained a tan from a family holiday in Italy. The twin’s mother was Italian, and their elder sister, Clelia, lived in Sorrento with her husband and five children. “How’s Fino?” Mateo grinned. “He aced his test today. Molly says she’s never had a harder-working kid. Sometimes I wonder if I do the right thing, homeschooling him, but it’s the only way I can do my job and still see him every day. Do you think I’m selfish?” Atlas got up to grab a beer from the refrigerator. “Not at all. Fino’s the most well balanced child I’ve ever met.” He grinned at his brother. “Just please, don’t go and screw Molly, like you did the last one.” “Oops.” Mateo drained his beer and Atlas groaned. “Really?” Mateo sat forward, his smile fading. “Okay, I’ll

come clean. I’m crazy about her, Atlas. I swear, nothing happened for a couple of months, but when we were in Italy…I don’t know. Something happened to us, a moment. We talked about it, what the implications were and decided we couldn’t do anything about it, for Fino’s sake.” “So, what changed?” Mateo sat back, regarding his brother with a steady gaze. “I fell in love with her.” Atlas’ eyebrows shot up. Now there was a word Mateo didn’t use often, particularly not in conjunction with women. He wooed them swiftly and just as swiftly moved on. “Yes, love,” Mateo repeated, undoubtedly noticing Atlas’ expression. “Not just because she’s gorgeous, Atlas – although let’s face it, she is – but when we talk, we really talk. No barriers. She doesn’t treat me like the rich boy playing at being a dad. She encourages me, she adores Fino, and she pushes him too, to the best of his abilities.” His voice gravelly with emotion, Mateo smiled a little shyly. “We decided that we would take things slowly – Fino is the priority, after all. But, god, Atlas…I think about her all the time.” “Calm down, bro,” Atlas laughed and punched his

brother lightly on the shoulder. “It’s about time. Go for it. We all love Molly – even Clelia, which is a modern miracle.” Both brothers laughed – their older sister was fiercely protective of them, to the point of being blunt and rude to people she thought were taking advantage of the twins’ good natures. Mateo nodded, his eyes shining. “I think I would like to make it formal, Atlas. Bring it out into the open. We have to tell Fino first, of course, and it’s really his opinion that counts here. And yours, of course,” he added hurriedly. Atlas grinned. “You have my blessing, bro, but what the hell do I know about love?”

ATLAS LAY AWAKE until just after midnight. Mateo had been the one who had always slept around – his drop-dead gorgeous looks making sure that he could have any women he wanted – but when Fino had come along, Atlas had seen his brother grow up overnight, becoming a man. Now, he was clearly crazy about the lovely Molly. Yeah, you go for it, bro. If she’s the one, go for it. He was proud of his twin. Atlas turned over, trying to find sleep. He wasn’t

someone who dwelled on his single status, but lately, he’d been feeling it. You’re a billionaire, you have the looks, the charm…why is love so hard to find? Atlas shook his head. Because I want a best friend as well as a lover, someone who gets me. He sighed, turned over and tried to get some sleep.

CHAP TER Two Ebony stepped off the plane and walked quickly through the airport. In the Arrivals hall, she saw Romy waiting for her and waved excitedly. Romy threw her arms around her. “Hey, girl. Thank you so much for doing this.” “So good to see you, Romy.” Ebony hugged her back. She’d only met Romy a few times since Juno had married her brother, but she liked the petite brunette very much. “And I’m so flattered to be asked to perform for you.” “You’re going to blow them away. Now, I do have to warn you, Zach and Rosa are screaming the place down at the moment. We’ve put you at the far end of the house, but we can always arrange a hotel suite for you.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble.” Romy rolled her eyes and smiled. “Girl, I’ve been dying for some girl talk. Grace tries, but you know, she’s five.” Ebony laughed. “I’ll do my best.”

SITTING around the Allende’s dinner table over homemade lasagna, surrounded by three gorgeous kids and her two friends, Ebony felt a pang of longing. This family was so happy, so loving, that Ebony wondered if she would ever find anything as good. “Child, calm yourself. Jeez.” Romy wrestled with a very wriggly Zach. Blue took his son from his wife and immediately Zach chilled out, smiling up at his father. Romy rolled her eyes. “I swear you’re the child whisperer, Blue.” She grinned at Ebony. “Are you excited about tomorrow?” Ebony nodded. “Excited and nervous. I hope Mr. Tigri approves of the set list.” “I’m sure he will, especially when he hears your voice. And he’ll insist on you calling him Atlas, by the way.”

“That’s different,” Ebony remarked. “What’s he like?” “Atlas? The sweetest. When we were at school together, he and Arti’s husband Dan were everybody’s school crush – along with Mateo. That’s Atlas’s identical twin, and when you see Atlas, you’ll know why that’s only a good thing.” “Ahem,” coughed Blue. “You’re still my number one,” snickered Romy, then groaned as Rosa spit up on her. “Oh, great timing, kiddo.” “I’ll get the cloth, Mama.” Grace Allende, a shy, intelligent girl with a concerted crush on Ebony, darted off and came right back. “I don’t know how you do it all, Romy,” Ebony said, watching her friend tidy herself up and wipe her younger daughter’s mouth. “We are a well coiled machine,” Gracie said proudly, making the adults laugh. “Oiled, not coiled, sweetie.” Romy said, kissing the top of Gracie’s head. “But she’s right. It just works. Sure, it’s exhausting with newborns, but worth every moment. And I have the two best helpers in the world.”

Blue grinned at Ebony. “What about you? Anyone on the horizon?” Ebony shook her head. Concentrating on my career.”

“Happily

single.

“Good for you,” Blue said, but then stroked a hand down Romy’s hair, twisting a lock of it around his fingers. Ebony could have cried at the love in his eyes as he gazed at his wife. Oh, to have that, she thought.

SHE WOKE up early the next day and found the whole family in the kitchen. Romy grinned at her. “Atlas just called. He’s sending a car for you at ten a.m. and wondered if that was too early. I heard the shower running, so I told him that was okay – was I right to?” “Definitely.” Ebony felt nervous all of a sudden. “I must give you a key,” Romy said, grabbing her purse. “We’re heading out about nine to drop Gracie off at kindergarten.” “I can count this much!” Gracie informed her, holding both hands out. “One, two, three …” “Don’t get her started or we’ll never leave the house,” Romy warned, handing Ebony a key. “Help

yourself to anything you need. You have my number – I’m sorry I can’t be there for your meeting with Atlas.” “It’s no problem. Honestly, you’ve done enough.” As the various members of the family were rounded up, Ebony sat quietly in the kitchen, sipping a cup of decaf in deference to the pregnancy she was trying not to think about. The sudden lack of chatter was peaceful, but at the same time, oddly lonely.

AT TEN A. M . sharp, a navy-blue Mercedes pulled up to the gates of the Allende home and Ebony buzzed him through. She went slowly down the front steps of the mansion, feeling oddly out of place. The driver got out of the car and Ebony drew in a sharp breath. If even the chauffeurs were this gorgeous… he was tall, had wild dark curls and merry green eyes and a smile that lit up his handsome face. “Miss Verlaine?” Ebony smiled at him. “That’s me. Nice to meet you.” The driver opened the passenger door for her and Ebony was relieved. She would hate to sit in the back seat like some rich mukety-muck. The driver

helped her in, and she thanked him. As he sat in the driver’s seat, she breathed in the scent of his cologne: clean linen and fresh air. He grinned around at her. “I hear you’re from these parts.” Ebony nodded, hearing an accent in his voice, but unable to place it. “Born and bred, although sadly, all my family is either gone or scattered. My brother lives in New Orleans.” “I know – he’s married to Juno, Romy told me.” Ebony was a little confused. He was very forward to be a driver. Maybe that’s how it worked in Atlas Tigri’s world—Romy had said he was a sweetheart —unless… “I’m really sorry, I should have asked your name. Forgive my rudeness.” The driver laughed, and something flipped in Ebony’s stomach. God, he was gorgeous… “No problem. Atlas Tigri, at your service.” Ebony felt her face burn. “God, I’m sorry, Mr. Tigri, I thought…Romy said you were sending a car, not picking me up yourself.” Atlas grinned. “Atlas, please. I changed my mind, thought it would break the ice faster to come get

you myself. I hope that’s okay.” Oh, god, yes. Ebony smiled at him. “That explains the accent. Italian.” “Yes, indeed. So, now that we’ve met officially, would you spend the day with me, Miss Verlaine? I thought I would show you the facility then take you to lunch. After that, we can go to the party venue and talk more about your performance.” “Ebony, please, and that sounds perfect.”

ON THE WAY to the Haven facility, Ebony was impressed even more with Atlas Tigri – it became apparent very quickly that he wasn’t just a rich, pretty boy, but someone really passionate about helping victims of domestic abuse. “I wanted somewhere, a safe space for abuse victims to go and get the medical help they needed, but also the psychiatric help, the comfort, compassion,” he told her as they pulled up to the building. It was sleek and modern, but also had a warm atmosphere to it, which Atlas commented on as they walked up the steps, greeted by various employees with friendly nods. “I want this placed to be somewhere they feel secure, well fed, warm. It needs to be somewhere

they can regroup and plan the next steps in their lives. A kind of home, if you will.” He smiled at her ruefully. “It’s grown far beyond what I envisioned, and quickly, too. We now have lawyers on hand, as well as top surgeons, such as Romy. I’m also hoping, eventually, to be able to rehouse people, but at the moment, my accountants won’t let me fund that.” There was a flash of real frustration in his green eyes and if Ebony had missed it, his next words made it clear it wasn’t imaginary. “It’s my money. I should be able to use it for any purpose,” he muttered, sounding distinctly less rich financier than frustrated philanthropist. “But that’s why I have financial counsel, to make sure there’s money available for many years.” She nodded, walking inside the building as he held the door for her. “Long-term planning instead of a flash in the pan.” “Precisely.” He stepped in and smiled at one of the residents as she walked by, a look of tension on her face that relaxed under Atlas’ warm smile. “We’re not struggling by any means, but this fundraiser will bring in vital money for supplies, food, medicine. If it goes well, we may make it a regular thing.” Moved beyond words, Ebony looked around as they walked through the clean, freshly painted

hallways, to some of the residential halls. The rooms, though dormitory style, were painted in warm colors, decorated with carefully curated artwork that made them feel simultaneously homey and stylish. Ebony’s eyes glistened at the obvious care that had gone into the smallest detail. “It’s incredible, Atlas…wow.” “We never have enough beds,” he told her soberly, “and it breaks my heart.” Impulsively, she rested her hand on his forearm and looked up into his handsome face. “What you’ve done here—beside the physical appearance of things, all the programs you offer, the highly trained staff, the overall dedication to helping them help themselves—” she shook her head. “It’s incredible, Atlas. Far and beyond the expected or even the usually possible. But you can’t save everybody.” Atlas laughed softly, lightly covering her hand with his own and sending a tendril of warmth straight into Ebony’s heart. “Romy tells me that all the time.” His smile faded. “We had an emergency brought in the other night, and Romy had to operate. The victim didn’t make it. That’s the hardest part of all of this.” “But you’re making a difference,” she said intently,

keeping her gaze locked with his. He was mesmerizing, this man; a mirror of sorts to this facility where the exterior was as handsome as everything inside. Ebony felt a surge of adrenaline, inspired by this man’s heart, by his vision. “It’s incredible, Atlas, it really is. Any way I can help, even if it is just by singing for you, I’d love to be a part of it. I know, from working with GRF, how a foundation can change a life. It changed mine when I met Livia Chatelaine. It changed forever, and I’m just a singer.” “You’re not just a singer, Ebony. You bring pleasure to people with your natural gift.” “You haven’t even heard me sing yet,” she flushed but felt the shift in atmosphere between them. Suddenly there was a tension, and she could feel his body heat. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, then Atlas smiled, his eyes soft. “I can’t wait to hear you,” he said softly and touched a finger to her cheek. Her skin burned where he made contact, and her stomach was filled with butterflies. “I can’t wait.”

HE TOOK her for lunch to an independent burger joint, and she loved that he had no airs, enjoying the fast food as much as she did, chatting easily.

She took her time to study him; the way he dressed, a dark blue sweater which brought out the color of his green eyes, blue jeans which highlighted his long, slim legs and – much to Ebony’ approval – a firm, tight bubble-butt. It was his eyes which really drew her, though. The color of them, so bright against the thick, long, black eyelashes which she wanted to brush her fingers across. They were so dark that they made him look as if he were wearing eyeliner. His face, boyish, with rounded cheeks, and his smile which made her weak. Do not get a crush on him, she warned herself, then realized it was too late. To be fair, Atlas Tigri was flirty, funny, and held her gaze for a beat too long when they talked. She was used to being noticed by men, but this was somehow totally different. Built like a pocket Venus, Ebony was all curves, her dark skin glowing with vitality, her face a callback to 1940’s glamour; something she played up by styling her hair in the style of Josephine Baker. When she performed, she would slip into skin-tight flapper dresses which highlighted her curves. But off-duty, she was pretty much a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. Now, as she looked at this man in front of her, she felt her entire body ache for him. She wondered what he would be like in bed; if he unleashed all

that wild Italian sexuality or was more reserved. She wondered how he would look naked, how his cock would feel inside of her… Jesus, stop. She could feel herself getting wet and tried to distract herself by talking about her set list for the party. It was difficult when Atlas was looking at her like he wanted to fuck her right there, though. Somehow she forced herself back into the conversation. “I have a mix of jazz standards and original pieces planned, but we can arrange them any way you want. If you’d prefer a set of songs that your guests would recognize, we can do that. Or, as another idea, I could do jazz versions of modern classics.” “I love that idea,” Atlas nodded. “I can see you doing some jazz Pearl Jam.” They both laughed, and Ebony nodded. “I never thought of them as classic, but if that’s your jam, so to speak, I can make it work.” “I bet you could.” There was a pause, a beat where they just smiled at each other. Ebony laughed softly. “How is it I feel I’ve known you for more than a few hours, Atlas?” He smiled. “That crazy thing called chemistry.”

“That must be it.” They gazed at each other for a long moment before Atlas leaned over and kissed the side of her mouth. “Mustard.” Ebony snickered, her body tingling anticipation. “Of course, thank you.”

with

Atlas cupped her face in his palm. “Can I tell you you're beautiful without sounding like a creep?” “You just did,” she whispered and moaned softly as he pressed his lips to hers again. This time, the kiss went on and on until they were both breathless and trembling. Atlas drew away, taking her hands in his. “I don’t want to take advantage,” he said in a low voice. “Nor do I want to behave unprofessionally or put you in a position where you feel uncomfortable. The party is in two days…” He didn’t have to finish his sentence. As much as Ebony wanted him right here, right now, she agreed with him. They needed to press pause on whatever this was until after the fundraiser. She kissed him again. “I understand, and I agree, Atlas.” She grinned. “After all, isn’t anticipation sexy?” He nuzzled his nose to hers. “It is. As sexy as you are, and that’s so goddamn sexy I could cry.”

They both laughed then. “Come on, Tigri, let’s go see this party venue.” As they were walking out of the restaurant, Atlas stopped her. “We might be being grown-up and sensible about this, but I have to warn you. I’ll be stealing kisses whenever I can.” Ebony laughed, feeling so at ease with this gorgeous man. She slipped her hand into his. “You can’t steal something that would be given willingly.” He immediately pressed his lips to hers. God, he tasted so good, and the way his lips moved against hers sent vibrations through her entire body. She wanted to tell him to fuck her now and fuck her hard, but she kept her countenance – just. The thought of after the party, of being naked with him, of his cock plunging into her. She shivered. Atlas smiled at her. “Cold?” “No. Just…anticipation.” Summoning her courage, she slid her hand down to his groin. God, he was huge and ramrod-hard. His green eyes were now dark and hungry as he lifted her hand away and turned it palm-side up, kissing it heatedly. “Soon, baby.” Her skin went up in flames at the touch of his lips

and she immediately imagined them so many other places. “Soon.” They made it across town somehow, their hands increasingly wandering over one another, their lips meeting frequently. Walking into one of Seattle’s most exclusive and expensive hotels, they were forced to stop until the elevator, at least, which they took full advantage of. By the time they reached the penthouse, Ebony’s legs were like jello from his passionate, tender kisses. He held her hand with warm possession as they walked into the beautiful space and she immediately spotted the small but well-situated stage. Not much could have derailed her thoughts from Atlas at that point, but music had always held the upper hand in Ebony’s world and it reasserted itself just enough now that she managed to step away, assessing her performance space. Walking back and forth, she mentally mapped where she would stand, where instruments might be, the distance between herself and the audience…“Will I meet the band beforehand?” “Oh, yes, I’ve arranged for you to spend the day with them tomorrow if that’s okay. The hotel will bring you all food and refreshments all day, but Juno said you might need the day to arrange things with them.”

“That would be great, thank you. Just perfect—” Her eyes found the magnificent piano at last and she gasped. “Is that a Bösendorfer Imperial Grand?” As she spoke, she was already walking over to run her fingers over the keys and knew as soon as she heard the depth of tone color that she hadn’t been mistaken. Swooning for an entirely different reason now, Ebony slid onto the seat and played a few bars. “My accountants had fits,” he whispered into her ear. “But after Romy told me about your magnificent voice—and when I heard it for myself —there was no way I could stand for anything less.” She sank into a slow melody, losing herself in the magic, as always, until he trailed his lips across her shoulder. “Romy and Blue have asked me to come to dinner tomorrow night.” Ebony moaned slightly, the collision of music and man—this man—making her dizzy with need. “If you do that, I’m not going to be able to control myself.” Atlas tipped her chin up and kissed her softly.

“Come to dinner?” “Oh God.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again and reaching up to cover his hand with her own. “I want you, Atlas Tigri, but we made a deal. Unless you want me to leave you with blue balls,” she added with a mischievous grin. Atlas groaned and rested his forehead against hers. “Woman, you just wait until the party is over. I’m going to rent a room in this place, and take you there. And believe me, you won’t be able to walk straight the next day.” The marble floor suddenly looked like the most inviting mattress ever, but Ebony managed to get up and avoid the thought of being tumbled onto it. “I think we’d better go mingle with other people before we break our rule.” Atlas stood but pulled her to him. “One last thing.” Ebony smiled up at him, feeling his erect cock pressing against her belly. “And what’s that?” He bent his head and kissed her thoroughly. “When I get you into bed, I’m going to fuck you so hard, woman, that you’ll see stars.” She shivered. “You’d better keep that promise, Atlas Tigri.”

HER BODY FELT as if it had been electrified, but later, back at Romy’s house, she had a stark reminder that her body was no longer just her own. Lying in bed, reading, and trying not to think about Atlas Tigri, a wave of nausea hit her just as she switched off her lamp, and she staggered to the little en-suite bathroom and threw up. She groaned, leaning her head against the cold tile. The nausea kept coming for the next two hours and eventually, Ebony heard the door to her bedroom creak open and Romy’s soft voice calling her. “In here,” Ebony croaked, her throat sore from vomiting. Romy, her sweet face creased with worry, came in and crouched next to her. “Sweetie, are you sick?” Ebony tried to smile as Romy swept a hand onto her forehead. The coolness of Romy’s fingers felt nice against her hot skin. “Must have eaten something at lunchtime that didn’t agree with me.” “Hmm. I don’t think you’re feverish, but you feel hot. Can I get you some Pepto?” Ebony didn’t know if Pepto was good for pregnant women, so she shook her head. “Honestly, I think it’s just a bad oyster.”

“You had oysters?” “No.” Ebony suddenly laughed. “But I’m okay, really. My stomach’s settling down now.” Romy helped Ebony back to bed, but Ebony could see she was worried. “Honestly, Romy, I’m fine.” Romy hesitated. “I’ll be just down the hallway if you need me.” “Thanks, honey. I’m sorry to wake you.” “No problem, I was awake for the twins anyway. I won’t miss the midnight feeds, I can tell you. Night, sweetheart.” “Night, Romy.” As her friend slipped away, leaving Ebony alone once more, she wondered if she should confide in Romy about her pregnancy. She hadn’t told anyone yet, and it was eating away at her. Today. Atlas had been a wonderful distraction, and she couldn’t wait to see him again – and certainly, the thought of a night with him was making her excited. But she couldn’t ignore what was happening to her for much longer. No, I don’t want to think about this, she thought resolutely. Not tonight. Give me these next few days and then I promise, we’ll figure it out. Ebony

realized she already thought of her child as a person, as them both as a team, and sighed. It would make it so much harder for her to decide what to do about the baby. She turned onto her side and closed her eyes, and dreamed of Atlas Tigri, smiling at her as if he loved her, and holding their child.

CHAP TER Three Fino Tigri looked between his father and his uncle. Mateo shrugged at his son. “I think he heard you, Cucciolo, but I’m not sure. Atlas?” Atlas blinked and broke his reverie. “I’m sorry, I was thinking of…nevermind.” “What could you have been thinking about, I wonder…” Mateo smirked knowingly. “Fino was asking you a question.” Atlas turned to his nephew who was spooning cereal into his mouth at a rapid speed. “Sorry, Fino. I missed what you said.” Fino grinned at his uncle. “I just asked if you were looking forward to seeing Papi and Vita. Bella texted me to tell me to tell me she’s going to take me horse-riding.”

“Sure, I am.” Atlas exchanged a loaded glance with Mateo, whose expression was no longer mischievous. ‘Papi’ was the twin’s step-father, Stanley, and Fino adored both him and Stanley’s step-daughter, Bella. Stanley’s wife, Vita, was an entirely different prospect, unfortunately. She was the very definition of a gold digger, having married Stanley mere weeks after the death of her first husband. Stan, mild-mannered and kind, had himself been reeling from the death of the twin’s mother from cancer, and both Atlas and Mateo had been shocked at his quick wedding. He’d apologized to them on the day of his wedding. “I need a distraction,” he said, shrugging hopelessly, “because it just hurts too damn much.” The twins had accepted his new wife, mostly because of her daughter, Bella; a shy, awkward teenager, who suffered at the hands of her mother’s ambitions for her. Vita was constantly bugging Stanley to sign Bella to his record label despite her tone-deaf voice and utter lack of desire to be in the music industry. Atlas and Mateo had taken her under their wing, shielding her from the constant belittling of her mother and she, in turn, adored them and Fino. Stanley’s own biological son was another tricky

situation. Cormac Duggan was a billionaire in his own right, working on Wall Street, and he had little time for the two beautiful Italian twins, thinking of them as pretty playboys and nothing more. Atlas had tried to reach out to him for Stan’s sake, but Mateo had told his twin not to bother. “He’s a jerk, At. Don’t waste your time.” Atlas knew there had almost been a fight once between Mateo and Cormac, but Mateo would never tell him the details. “It was nothing, brother.” So, when Cormac announced he would be spending Christmas with them, Mateo had rolled his eyes but said nothing. To his credit, the one person Cormac was devoted to was Fino, who adored the older man. Mateo didn’t understand it, but shrugged it off. Atlas heard a female voice and then Molly, Fino’s tutor, and Mateo’s love, her sweet face breaking out into a smile, came into the kitchen. A tall, willowy blonde, Molly had been a godsend for Fino, who had struggled to connect with any of the other tutors Mateo had tried. Molly had changed all of that, and now, as Atlas watched his brother stand to greet her with a hug (no kissing in front of Fino yet, clearly), he could see the love in his brother’s eyes and immediately thought of Ebony Verlaine.

Christ, she was so sexy, it killed him. Not only that, but she was bright, and funny and kind, and everything he had been looking for. He told himself to calm down, step back, but if he was honest with himself, it was taking all his strength not to call her right now and say ‘Hang the fundraiser, let’s spend the day in bed.’ Atlas smiled at Molly, dragging his thoughts away from Ebony’s magnificent body. “You’ll be spending Christmas with us, I hope.” Molly smiled shyly, and Mateo nodded. “I already asked her.” Mateo turned back to Molly, who was gazing at him with utter adoration. “You’re part of this family now, Mols.” He drew his finger down her cheek gently. They were so sweet Atlas felt like he was intruding. With a smile, he stood up. “Well, I’d better get to work. Molly, we’d love to have you for the holidays – and I hope Mateo is bringing you to the fundraiser tomorrow?” Molly nodded shyly, and Mateo grinned. “You bet your a…butt I am.” Atlas laughed as Fino giggled at his dad’s near cussing. “See you later, kids.”

ON THE DRIVE into the city, he noticed snow was beginning to fall and smiled. Fino would love a white Christmas. When he and Mateo were younger, they would always have winters in Italy, where the weather was much warmer, so even at thirty-five, Atlas loved the prospect of a pictureperfect Christmas. Last winter, he had spent some time in the Olympic Mountains, where he had run into his old friend Romy.

W HAT A LIFE- CHANGING MEETING THAT WAS, he thought now. And how far they had come. He loved working with his old friend and was eternally grateful that she had given up a surgeon’s salary to come help him build the Haven. She was so much more than just his Chief of Surgery. She was family, and part of Haven’s very heart. He was looking forward to dinner tonight, with Romy, Blue, and Ebony.

HIS MIND DRIFTED BACK to the beautiful young singer. She could only be twenty-four, a decade younger than himself. Was the age-gap going to be a barrier? He didn’t think so. Their shared sense of humor, at least on yesterday’s evidence, defied any generational misgivings.

He couldn’t wait to see her again.

AT HAVEN , however, his attention was taken up entirely as a young woman, beaten and stabbed by her abusive husband, was rushed into the operating theater where Romy desperately tried to save her life. “Mr. Tigri?” Atlas wasn’t an angry man by any stretch, but the interruption in the middle of life or death surgery— not that he was helping, standing helplessly by watching, praying – disturbed him. Checking his temper, he turned to the security guard questioningly. “I’m very sorry,” Noah Valdez said hastily. “But we have a…situation. It’s unnerving some of the residents and the police have been delayed.” “Go,” Romy said tersely, not looking up from the table, and Atlas didn’t dare distract her by arguing. Still in the scrubs he’d donned to observe, he strode outside and found a man in his late twenties, railing at the security guards, his face distorted with fury as he screamed to be let inside. “My wife is in there, and I want to see her!” he

shouted as he spotted Atlas. “Now, motherfucker.” “I don’t think so.” The anger he so rarely felt now moved through Atlas like ice as he contemplated the piece of shit who had put Romy’s patient on the operating table. “In fact, since I’ve called the police, I think it very likely you’re about to be arrested for her attempted murder. You stabbed your wife seventeen times. And you expect us to let you in? You’re lucky I don’t put you in the ground, motherfucker.” He knew he shouldn’t be saying this stuff to the man, that he should let the police deal with him, but it was rare the abuser turned up at Haven. Was the man an idiot? The assailant narrowed his eyes at her. “I did no such thing…I found her like that.” Atlas’s eyes swept over the man’s hands. “And those cuts and bruises on your own hands?” He grabbed the man’s arm as the man reached into his pocket. The man screamed in pain as Atlas squeezed hard. He would have been more than happy to crack the bastard’s ulna clean in two, to leave him writhing on the floor wailing, but fortunately the Haven security guards intervened and hauled the husband away. As they pulled backwards and he let go with

extreme reluctance, a bloody knife skittered to the floor from beneath the guy’s hoodie. In the distance, sirens began approaching. “You’re about to be arrested for attempted murder,” Atlas growled at the man, his fists balled up tightly. “Don’t make it worse for yourself.” Romy appeared by Atlas’s side, wearing bloodied scrubs. “Make that murder,” she said in a dead voice. “Kiersten didn’t make it.” Kiersten’s killer smirked and before he could help himself, Atlas landed a powerful punch to the side of the man’s head, knocking him backwards and onto the concrete. He lunged forward, intent on breaking the guy’s arm, face, whatever he could reach, even as Romy shouted for him to stop. “Atlas! This isn’t helping!” She dragged him away with all the strength in her small body as the man cussed them out. “Fuck! Fuck you, and fuck that bitch. I’ll kill all of you, all of you. You, pretty doc, want me to gut you like I did her? My fucking pleasure…” So much for being the usual soul of calm. Atlas erupted in a white fury and it took three huge police officers to eventually manhandle him away. Romy bore him off while the police arrested the

killer and a few minutes later, while Atlas was still spitting nails, a detective came to interview them both. “He could press charges of assault, Mr. Tigri, but as he had just threatened your life, I can’t see them sticking.” “He didn’t just threaten me, he threatened Doctor Sasse. He threatened to do to her what he did to his now deceased wife.” Atlas’s protective instincts had always been hardwired, but the notion that anyone would lay a finger on Romy in anything other than kindness made him livid. “He’s a sick fuck.” “No doubt, but we have to follow due process. We’ll need access to the body, and to your premises while we investigate.” “Of course, whatever you need,” Romy told him. Her hand was on Atlas’s back, rubbing him, comforting him. Atlas drew a deep breath in as the detective left them alone. He marshalled his temper at last, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Romy. Such behavior is acceptable from no one. I just saw red. Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” She nodded, letting his arm go at last. “Just upset at losing another one. But, that’s what I

signed up for. We knew this kind of thing was a possibility.” Atlas shook his head, grief for the dead young woman leaving him as numb as he’d been furious. Always even keeled, unaccustomed to such mood swings, he found himself suddenly exhausted. “Blue’s going to kill me for putting you in danger.” “You didn’t do anything,” Romy replied. “I chose this job. I knew the dangers. Besides, our fortress home is just that. You know how Blue is about our family’s security.” “I think we should go ahead and escalate our protection at Haven.” “Well, let’s see what the police think. In the meantime, let me fix your hand up.”

R OMY DIDN ’ T KNOW whether to tell Blue about the incident later, and when he came home in a good mood because of a successful surgery, she decided against it. Also, she didn’t want to scare Ebony. When she got home, she knocked at Ebony’s door. “Eb? Honey, how are you feeling today?” Ebony opened the door, smiling. “I’m good. Must have just been a bad burger or something. Look, can I help you with dinner? I feel bad just sitting

around.” “Actually, that would be wonderful if you don’t mind. I want to get the kids fed and in bed by the time Atlas gets here.” She said nothing when Ebony’s face flamed scarlet, too tired to ask questions just yet. As they both worked in the kitchen, Ebony smiled at Romy. “I thought all billionaires had staff.” Romy laughed wearily. “Oh, Blue has staff, but we don’t like to have people around us permanently, especially during family time. Obviously, we have our nanny, who is wonderful, and essential if I want to work, but both Blue and I love to cook. So, no fancy schmancy chefs for us. Speaking of fancy, I hope Atlas treated you well yesterday.” “He’s a great guy,” Ebony said. “So much fun and I’m really looking forward to the fundraiser.” “Not your typical billionaire, is he?” Romy noted, still shocked at Atlas’ anger earlier. It was a side of him she’d never known existed. “Not at all. He brought me to Haven, and I have to say, the work you both do there…so inspiring.” “Thank you. So, you got along great?” Ebony nodded, and this time Romy hid a smile at

the two pink spots high on her friend’s cheeks. While it hadn’t been her intention to play matchmaker, if Atlas and Ebony got along, she would love to see her two friends happy. Ebony could only benefit from having such a devoted partner, and Atlas had long needed a good woman by his side. She knew what Blue would say. He would roll his eyes and tell her that she couldn’t make everyone in the world love each other. If only I could, she thought now, and her mind flew back to the horrific incident earlier. Another woman lost to her partner’s violent jealousy. Romy’s own experience with her murderous ex was never far from the surface, still after almost six years. Dacre Mortimer had vowed to kill her, had killed several women in order to get to her. She had to remind herself every day that Dacre was dead and couldn’t hurt her anymore. Ironically, it hadn’t even been Dacre who had almost killed her in the end. It had been Blue’s stepbrother Gaius, insanely jealous of his brother, who had shot Romy in an attempt to make his half-brother suffer. “I’m still here.” That’s what she told herself every morning, and she murmured it to herself now as the door opened and Grace came in, yelling happily, to greet her and Ebony.

B LUE CAME home from the hospital early, as he had promised, and as the nanny fed Grace, he and Romy sneaked off to their room to ‘get changed for dinner.’ Of course, the second the door was closed – and locked – they were the parents of a five-yearold, after all – Blue’s fingers were at the zipper of Romy’s dress. Romy enjoyed his lips against her skin as he kissed her then, and as she freed his cock from his pants, she smiled up at him before falling to her knees and taking him in her mouth. She sucked and teased him until his cock was quivering and rock-hard, then Blue lifted her and lay her on the bed, hitching her legs around his waist and stroking his cock into her ready and swollen cunt. Romy moaned with pleasure as they made love, Blue kissing her passionately, leaving her breathless. She would never get tired of this, never get tired of his glorious body, the way he loved her. The way he looked at her when he was inside her… “I love you so much,” she whispered to him, and Blue nuzzled her nose with his. “You are the reason I breathe in and out every day,” he said simply. “You are my world, Romulus.” She started to giggle, and Blue grinned, watching her breasts jiggling with obvious appreciation. Then she was coming and gasping his name, arching her

back up, pressing her breasts and belly against his body. Blue groaned, his cum shooting deep into her belly. Collapsing together, they kissed as they caught their breath. Blue stroked the hair back from his wife’s face. “You know, when the kids are a little older, we should try and get away, just the two of us. Even for a weekend.” Romy nodded. “I would love that. Mom and Stuart would kill to have the kids.” “For two whole days?” Blue grinned as Romy laughed. “Let’s be honest; Gracie would actually be the one in charge.” “Our little adult,” Blue said fondly. He studied his wife. “Are you okay?” Romy nodded. “Yes, of course. Why’d you ask?” Blue traced a little line between her eyes. “Haven’t seen this for a while. Not for a few years.” “I was frowning?” “Well, not right now, but when I came home, there was a moment. I might have imagined it.” Tell him. Romy swallowed hard and shook her

head. Blue still hadn’t forgiven himself for her near-death years ago, though he had been in no way to blame and had actually saved her life. Why resurrected old nightmares? “I do have a small headache, so it was probably that.” “Can I get you some aspirin?” “I’m fine, honey, it’ll go when we have dinner. Speaking of which, we’d better get ready.” They showered together, taking way too long, kissing and caressing each other then got dressed slowly. Romy shimmied into a lilac tea-dress that she knew Blue loved her in and left her long dark hair down, pulled over one shoulder. Light make-up and she was ready. She turned to see Blue watching her. “Come here.” She went to him, and he kissed her. “I love you, Dr. Sasse.” Romy gazed up at her husband and wondered how she had been so lucky as to have found him. “I love you, Doc. Let’s go and have fun with our friends.”

CHAP TER F OUR Ebony, wearing a dark red dress, her short, dark

hair combed into a bob, and a long gold chain around her neck, was both nervous and excited about seeing Atlas again. She wondered if she’d somehow managed to imagine the sizzling chemistry between them, but then he walked in the door and the heat crackled immediately once again. His green eyes met hers, warm with desire that he reined in as he simply leaned in and kissed her cheek. That small gesture alone left Ebony trembling with need. She breathed in the scent of his expensive cologne, woody and spicy, and felt her pulse quicken. “Tomorrow night,” she whispered. Atlas brushed his fingers over her jaw, leaving no doubt that if there hadn’t been an audience a few feet away he would have been kissing her thoroughly. “Tomorrow.”

AT DINNER , which was a fun, laid-back affair, Ebony sat with her friends and felt happier than she had in a long time. Atlas was sitting next to her and not hiding the chemistry between them as if they had known each other for years, and she was grateful to him for that. “Listen,” he was saying to Romy and Blue now.

“Christmas. Are you going to the cabin?” Blue shook his head. “No, Arti and Dan are taking Grey up this year, and we didn’t want to intrude. So, it’ll probably be a quiet one at home.” “In that case, I’d like to invite you all to come celebrate with us at the house. We have a houseful already – Stan’s there, and I believe the Angel of Death is showing his face as well.” Ebony raised an eyebrow curiously and mouthed Death? to Romy, who shook her head. “Well, you make it sound unmissable,” said Blue dryly. “I assume you’re speaking about the always delightful Cormac?” “The very one.” Atlas grinned. “Mateo’s delighted as you might guess. But Vida is less annoying at Christmas, I’ll admit, and I know Fino, Mateo, and Stan would love for you to be there.” “Done and done,” Romy said as Blue nodded. Atlas looked at Ebony. “Yes?” “Me what?” “You, Christmas, us …” he gestured at everyone at the table. “Together.” As elated as she was surprised, Ebony nodded

slowly. “Of course. If I’m not imposing—” “You’re part of our extended family now,” Atlas cut in, and the way he was looking at her, there was no way Romy and Blue didn’t notice, but Ebony didn’t care. “I’d love to, but I think Juno and Obe are coming from New Orleans.” “Then they are invited too.” Beneath the table, his fingers grazed her knee. “Please come.” Ebony couldn’t look away from Atlas’s gaze. “Then I’d love too.”

AFTER DINNER , Ebony noticed Romy and Blue excused themselves, a little pointedly, to take care of the dishes and left Ebony and Atlas alone in the living room. Atlas sat next to her, his arm along the back of the couch. Ebony had to resist the urge to snuggle with him. Atlas glanced out of the room and risked leaning in to kiss her. “I thought about you all day,” he said softly, “and all night too.” She traced her fingertip around his mouth. “Me too…when I wasn’t busy working with your band. What a great bunch of guys.” “They are. Mike called me just before I left for

here, telling me he’s never heard such a wonderful voice. Tomorrow night is going to be so special, Ebony…in more than one way.” Ebony shivered in anticipation. Risking another kiss, she shimmied closer to him, and Atlas slid a hand up her thigh, his fingers coming perilously close to her hot sex. Ebony couldn’t help but grab his hand and pressed it between her legs. “I want you so badly,” she whispered into his ear and heard his low rumble of laughter. “If we don’t stop, I’m going to fuck you right here, right now, and that’s just not good dinner party etiquette.” But he kissed her back passionately, moaning when she squeezed his ramrod cock through his pants. “Don’t make any plans for the day after tomorrow,” he said, “because we’re spending all day in bed and I’m going to kiss every inch of your heavenly skin, Ebony Verlaine. You have crept into my brain and the things I want to do to you…most of them are barely legal.” He said all this with a wicked grin on his face and Ebony felt herself getting wetter and wetter. She leaned in. “The anticipation is killing me.” “Me too.”

Romy and Blue made a lot of noise out in the hall to make it obvious they were about to join them, and when they came in, Ebony saw they were both grinning from ear to ear. Atlas didn’t move his arm, or make any effort to hide his desire for her, and Ebony smiled at him.

I N THE MIDDLE of the night the sickness returned, but this time, she tried to be as quiet as possible. Ebony threw up then rinsed her mouth out and sat on the cool tile, placing a hand on her belly. Was morning sickness supposed to hit this soon? Ebony drew in some deep lungfuls of air. How had she been so stupid that night, which was still only two weeks ago? A hot night out on the town with her friend Kate had turned into something else entirely. Ebony could barely believe she’d done the things she had that night. Kate, always the more adventurous one, had dared her to go to that sex club. At first, Ebony had resisted, but then later on, after way too many drinks, she’d agreed. “Just to see what it’s all about.” Kate nodded, grinning. But of course, what it was about was sex, and she’d found herself in a room, bound and being fucked by a man whose face was obscured by a rubber mask. He had a great, hard

body, a little too ripped for her taste, but she liked his back tattoo, a red phoenix. He didn’t speak at all. He’d used a condom, so it was just unlucky that she’d gotten pregnant, but her shame at what she had done had overwhelmed her the next day. Kate came to see her the next day, deeply apologetic. “I’m sorry, Ebony. I was just trying to get you to loosen up. I didn’t know that would happen.” “It’s okay,” Ebony said, “I was fully consenting, it’s just…” “I know. But I also know you’re not into that scene and I should’ve stopped you.” “Who’s to say I would have listened?” Ebony reassured her friend. “It’s okay, you know, it’s life, it’s an experience, it’s not like I’m some virgin. I just generally like to be in control of when I’m going to sleep with someone.” “I know, and I feel wretched.” Ebony had hugged Kate, who genuinely seemed ashamed. “Dude, look, sex is great, and I’m sure there are people who dig that whole scene. It’s just not for me.” She’d told herself that it was fine over and over, that sex clubs definitely had their place in the

world, but she couldn’t help feeling a little dirty, a little sordid. She hadn’t even seen the guy’s face, and now she was carrying his child. God. But the thing was…it was something she tried not to admit to herself, but a small part of her was excited to be a mother. Lots of women have children young, she thought to herself, but it’s just the timing sucks. If I hadn’t met Atlas… But she had met Atlas, and she was so excited about where this could go. So excited that she refused to think about the complications pregnancy would add to an as-yet nonexistent relationship. Why worry before anything had actually happened? Dragging herself up from the floor, she glanced at her phone. Just after 4 a.m. in Seattle, and she wondered if her brother, in New Orleans, would be awake. She went back to bed and texted Obe. You up? Hey, sis. She called him immediately. “Hey Bubba, sorry to bother you so early.” “No sweat. What are you doing up so early?” “Just … stuff on my mind,” she deflected. “How’s

our old hunting ground?” “Stuff like your performance, I’m guessing. The hunting grounds are beautiful, but cold. You with Juno?” “Yeah, she’s still asleep. I was about to go to the gym but I’d rather talk to you. Miss you, kiddo.” Ebony smiled down the phone. “Miss you too. Listen, the guy who’s working with Romy is a sweetheart, and he’s invited us to spend Christmas with him and his extended family. So, it’s something to think about, thought I’d mention it. Juno knows him…Atlas Tigri.” “Yeah, she’s mentioned him. That’s cool. I’ll talk to Juno about it, but I’m sure we can make it work if that’s what you want to do.” “It is.” Ebony wondered if she should share the growing attraction between her and Atlas with her brother, but decided against it. “So. Nervous about your performance at the fundraiser?” Obe asked again. “A little,” she admitted, letting him keep thinking that was what was keeping her awake even though she didn’t know the meaning of stage fright. Never had. “I don’t want to let Atlas and Romy down.”

“Not possible,” her brother gave a short laugh, “you’ll kill it, sis.” Ebony thanked him and ended the call. She lay in bed, her mind whirling with how much, in such short of time, her life was changing. She had no idea what was coming next, but she knew one thing for certain: This time tomorrow she would be in bed with the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on…and she couldn’t wait.

CHAP TER F IVE It was a habit of hers to always check out a venue early on the day of the performance, just to get the vibe. A place felt so different the day of something than on any other day. Ebony walked into the party venue and stopped. Talk about a different vibe. “Wow.” Though elegant as ever, the large room had been transformed into a white and silver Christmas wonderland, with thousands of tiny, twinkling white lights. Ebony looked around the room as the staff set dinner tables and prepared the room. The money Atlas had put into this – his own money, Romy had told her – was a little unsettling. The man was rich – very rich, and it freaked her out a

little. On the stage, there was a curtain of crystals hanging like rain behind where she would sing. Ebony suddenly felt overwhelmed, an unfamiliar feeling she didn’t enjoy in the slightest. “Miss Verlaine?” She turned to see a young woman smiling at her. “That’s me, hello.” “Hi there, I’m Felicity. Mr. Tigri suggested you might drop by early.” Ebony looked at her in surprise. “He did, did he?” The way he seemed to know her so well when they’d barely just met could have been unnerving, but she found it somehow only amplified how hot the man was. “He asked whether you’d like any changes made. Any at all, and I’ll make them happen.” Ebony didn’t even need to look around. The place was easily the nicest venue she’d ever been in. “No. It all looks fantastic. Just make sure the jazz drummer has a screen, please.” She elaborated at Felicity’s confused look. “The plastic cage you see around them sometimes. Helps avoid drowning out quieter instruments, and my voice. It’s not standard use in jazz, but at rehearsal this morning the

drummer requested one.” Felicity made a note on her phone. “I’ll take care of it,” she promised. “Mr. Tigri also said you might want a new outfit for tonight. Because it’s special, he asked me to tell you specifically.” For one second Ebony found herself offended at the suggestion that she didn’t have the right outfit for this upscale joint, and then Atlas’ ‘because it’s special’ hit home and she realized he was flirting with her. Through his unwitting assistant, no less. “I love dress shopping,” Felicity confided with a shy smile. “Especially with no budget. I’d be happy to help you pick out something. Mr. Tigri told me to take the day to help and to warn you to spare no expense.” Ebony smiled. “He said that, did he? Well, all right, then. Take me to your favorite place, Felicity.” Standing in the exclusive boutique a short while later, Ebony’s eyes widened at the designer clothes. “This is too much.” Felicity laughed. “Not at all. Now, what’s your aesthetic?” Ebony hesitated then said. “I’m a retro girl. I love anything from the Twenties, Thirties or Forties.”

Felicity nodded. “Then we’re in the right place. Carmen is one of Seattle’s up and coming designers, and she loves anything retro. This is going to be amazing…” Over the next hour, they talked with the designer herself, who brought out several pieces that Ebony almost swooned over. Eventually, she chose a formfitting gold dress which skimmed her curves and looked sensational against her dark skin. Felicity then took her to a beauty salon where they worked on her hair, shaping it into pin curls around her face. Ebony had to admit – she didn’t recognize the stunning woman in the mirror. “Now,” Felicity said, “Underwear?” Ebony flushed. “Um…” Felicity grinned impishly. “Top to toe was what Mr. Tigri suggested, but only if you wanted it. He’s not trying to Eliza Doolittle you – his words.” New, sexy underwear was definitely appealing, but Ebony felt awkward. “On one condition…I’m allowed to pay for my own underwear.” “Entirely up to you.” They went to a small boutique, and Ebony picked up some sultry, dark red underwear that cost way too much for something that just might end up

shredded in three seconds. But God, she hoped it did end up in pieces on the floor. It’d be worth the expense. Every cent of it. “Good choice.” Felicity approved, then smiled. “Okay, lunch?” Ebony enjoyed Felicity’s company at lunch, getting to know the young woman. “How long have you worked for Atlas?” “Five years,” Felicity said, her mouth full of sandwich, “he recruited me as an intern – a paid intern at that – and after his long-time secretary left, I became his assistant. I think he likes me because I’m not star struck by him. I tell him the truth.” Ebony smiled. “I get that about him. He’s a good guy.” “He really is.” Felicity studied Ebony. “He told me you come from Seattle originally?” Ebony nodded. “Born and bred. I moved away from Seattle when my brother moved to New Orleans. Serendipitously, it turned out, because the Foundation who mentored me and my career is based there.” Felicity nodded. “My girlfriend’s brother is involved with them too. Ben Faldo.”

“I know Ben, he’s a wonderful musician and a sweet guy.” Felicity beamed. “He is, thank you.” Ebony decided she liked Felicity very much and after Felicity dropped her back at the venue, she gave her cell phone number to her. “In case you want to go for drinks sometime.” Felicity grinned. “Would love to. Knock them dead tonight.” “You’re not coming?” “Sadly, not this time, I have a family thing, but I have no doubt you’ll rock it.”

E BONY HUNG her performance dress up behind the door of her dressing room and, covering her hair with a cap carefully, stepped into the shower. She wasn’t sure if all dressing rooms had showers, but it sure was convenient. She scrubbed off, shaved, massaged moisturizer oil into every part of her body, then slipped her new underwear on. The oil had a gold shimmer to it which made her dark skin glow, and the dark red underwear was the perfect color for her. She slipped her day dress back on, not wanting to get her performance dress rumpled – it was a couple of hours until she was on.

Happily, she began to warm up her voice, even though the performance was way too far away for it to make a difference yet. In the middle of a scale, there was a knock on the door. Opening it, her heart began to beat faster. Atlas grinned at her. “Hey, gorgeous.” She couldn’t help herself; she grabbed his tie and pulled him into the room, pressing her body against his as he bent his head to kiss her. She tangled her fingers in his dark curls, savoring every moment of the kiss, his lips firm and gentle, but with a fierce passion. Breaking away finally, gasping for air, Ebony laughed. “God, Atlas Tigri…what you do to me.” “What I’m going to do to you later tonight,” he said, sliding his arms around her waist, “will put even a kiss like that in the shade.” Ebony moaned in anticipation. “Am I in a dream? I think I must be.” Atlas laughed, his green eyes shining. “Then I’m in it with you, beautiful. Now, tell me, did Felicity spoil you like I asked her to?” It was Ebony’s turn to laugh. “Yes, she did. I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, except for the whole hooker thing.”

“Just as long as you weren’t offended. I tried to have her explain, without giving it away.” “I got the message,” she promised as he kissed her again, then swept a lock of her hair over her ear. “Are you nervous?” Ebony shook her head. “No. Not about anything, Atlas.” He groaned. “I’ve never wanted a party to be over so badly. I’m just going to be the worst host.” Ebony smiled. “I don’t believe that for a second.” Atlas grinned. “Hey, you hungry? I have pizza coming.” “You read my mind.” Somehow they kept their hands to themselves as they ate, and Ebony figured they both qualified for some kind of sainthood by the end of the hour when Atlas kissed her cheek and left her alone to get ready. “Get dressed.” He leaned in and whispered into her ear, “So I can undress you later.” Leaving her utterly on fire, he departed. Pulling herself together after he’d all but melted her bones, Ebony slipped into her couture dress and went through a full vocal warmup as she prepared

to be called by the floor manager. As she approached the stage, she heard the chatter of the guests and peeked out at the crowd. Scores of beautifully and expensively dressed people, none of whom she recognized, were milling around, glasses of champagne in hand, talking and laughing with each other. She saw Atlas, breathtaking in his Armani suit and bow-tie, step up to the microphone. Ebony felt another curl of desire in her stomach as she listened to his low, sensual voice thanking the guests for coming. He talked with such passion about Haven and what his ambitions for it were that Ebony was almost moved to tears. She realized Atlas was coming to the end of his speech and was about to announce her. Her skin tingled as she registered the fondness in his voice as he talked about her, and when he announced her, she walked onto the stage to warm applause. Atlas kissed her cheek, winking at her. “Go get ‘em, kiddo.” Adrenaline pumped through Ebony’s system as she greeted the crowd and introduced her band, and then, as the music swelled, she began to sing.

ATLAS

STOOD

to the side of the stage, unable to take

his eyes off of Ebony. Her voice, low, tremulous and sensual, sent shivers down his spine. The way the gold dress clung to her body was driving him crazy, and when she glanced over at him and smiled as she sang, his heart thudded against his chest. Atlas had questioned himself over the last two days whether he was doing the right thing, getting involved with Ebony. Not because of who she was, but because of who he was. Was he taking advantage? He would hate to think so, but Ebony was very young. His gut was telling him that she was special though and for now, he would go along with that. He had dreamed of her creamy dark skin and deep brown eyes since the moment he met her, and when he kissed her, he’d never been so sure about anything. Last night, he’d told Mateo how he felt about her, and Mateo, ever the romantic, had been delighted. “Brother, as long as neither of you gets hurt, what’s the harm? Live, Atlas. You’ve been surrounded by sycophants and gold-diggers all your life. If your instinct is telling you this girl is different, go with it. Leap.” Now, Atlas closed his eyes for a moment, immersing himself in the sound of her voice. It wrapped him as smoothly and softly as he imagined her body would later. Ebony made even much-

performed standards sound fresh and original, her smooth voice with that touch of gravel entrancing the gathered party-goers. After every song, they applauded her loudly, some even whooping their approval, and Atlas could see the confidence in Ebony’s eyes growing. Her sweet smile, the friendly, easy way she chatted with the audience between songs…she was a star, that much was obvious. Atlas made a mental note to talk to Stanley – his step-father, with all his contacts, could help Ebony immeasurably, and she deserved every opportunity. He felt someone touch his arm and found Romy, beautiful in a midnight blue column gown, smiling beside him. “Girl did good, huh?” “Unbelievably good,” Atlas agreed, still half wrapped in Ebony and her song. “How’re you doing?” “Very good. Blue’s grabbing us some drinks. Listen, I wanted to thank you for not spilling about the guy at Haven yesterday. I don’t want Blue worried about me every second – he does that enough, anyway.” Atlas’s smile faded. “The detective called. Dude was bailed. Keep your security team close.” Romy didn’t look worried. “We will, don’t worry. I

can’t believe they bailed that motherfucker. He killed her.” “Apparently his family is well connected.” Romy looked angry. “God. Preppy entitled assholes. Dacre was the same.” Atlas squeezed her head. “Dacre’s dead.” “I know.” Romy sighed. “But there’s always another one and another…” “Which is why we do what we do.” He put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. Ebony was about to start another song, and Romy smiled again. “God, I love this song.” It was a cover of Etta James’ At Last, always a crowd pleaser, and the audience began to sing along with Ebony, who grinned and encouraged them. She had them in the palm of her hand, that was obvious, and Atlas felt a surge of affection. In a life and career where he saw so much pain, so much of the worst of people, it was a salve to the soul to see someone connecting with others so much. He felt Romy grinning at him and looked down at her. “You’re smitten,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder and he laughed. “I admit, I am,” he said honestly.

Romy smiled and gave him an affectionate sideways hug. “I’m happy for you, Atlas. I adore Ebony, and you both deserve happiness. She feels the same way, believe me.” “I hope so. It’s the very beginnings of something, Romy. I hope it becomes more but at the moment…” “I know, I know. Just enjoy it. God, her voice is like velvet, isn’t it?”

ATLAS WAS SPELLBOUND – as was the audience – as Ebony finished up her set and he, like them, applauded her long and hard. He got up onto the stage as she shyly took her bow. “Ladies and gentleman, it’s a cliché, but tonight, I think, a star was born. Miss Ebony Verlaine, everybody.” Ebony chuckled, her face red as Atlas kissed her cheek. “You were sensational, baby. Utterly sensational.”

CHAP TER Six At the dinner after the show, Atlas had seated her next to him, with Romy and Blue at their table too. “I thought you might want some friends around.”

Ebony smiled at him gratefully. “I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity,” she said to him and Romy. “If there’s any more I can do to help, please, just ask. I’d be happy to.” “I think you’ll be fighting the offers off now,” Blue said, with a wink. “In fact, if I’m not mistaken, Roman Ford is here somewhere.” “Of Quartet?” Ebony almost squeaked. Quartet was one of the biggest record companies in the world – but they were very, very picky about who they had on their roster. To be a Quartet Artist was to have a cache in the business like no other. “That’s him…I can introduce you if you’d like.” Atlas nodded to a table where Ebony saw Roman laughing with a beautiful blonde woman who looked familiar. Ebony recognized her as Kym Clayton, the guitarist in The 9th and Pine, a Seattle rock band she and Obe loved and had been to see play live many times. Ebony swallowed nervously. She’d just spent hours working out her voice, but her throat was suddenly dry as sand. “Maybe another time, I don’t want to use this night to shill for myself.” Atlas and Blue laughed, and Romy squeezed Ebony’s hand. “Darling, the second you opened your mouth up there, that was your introduction,

believe me.” Romy wasn’t wrong. After a luscious dessert of champagne sorbet with strawberries, Roman Ford came over to their table and shook her hand. It was all Ebony could not to stutter when he complimented her. “That voice is astonishing, Ebony.” And when he casually added, “Call me. I’d like you to meet my partners,” if Atlas hadn’t been discreetly propping her up with a hand on her back, she might have sagged at the knees. He handed Ebony a business card, then stayed to chat with them for a time. Ebony sat, listening to her friends talking and laughing, feeling Atlas’s fingers stroking up and down her bare back, Quartet’s business card in her purse and surrounded by friends. A small twinge of something fluttered in her belly – a new life in more ways than one. Is this all really happening? As the guests started to drift away toward the end of the night, Atlas and Ebony said goodbye to their friends and hand-in-hand rode the elevator to the penthouse suite. They gazed at each, no words needed, and when they walked into the suite, Atlas took her in his arms and kissed her. “You were amazing, the party was a success…but, god, I’m glad it’s over…”

Ebony gave a moan as he buried his face in her neck, his lips against her throat, his fingers gently pulling the straps of her dress down her shoulders. The gold fabric slithered down her body to the floor and it was Atlas’ turn to moan at the sight of her curves. “Even more beautiful than I dreamed.” Ebony’s trembling fingers pulled at his tie, then unbuttoned his shirt. She pressed her lips to his chest, his hard pecs with a smattering of black hair, trailing her fingertips down his flat stomach, feeling it contracted with desire under her touch. As she unzipped his pants, Atlas stroked her stomach. She gazed up at him as she freed his huge, diamondhard cock from his underwear, and stroked it against her bare belly. Atlas muttered something in Italian and cupped her face as he kissed her passionately. His hand slipped between her legs, caressing her through her panties, then gently sliding them down her legs. With an expert twist, he unclasped her bra, letting her full, ripe breasts fall into his hands. Stroking a rhythm over them with his thumbs, Atlas kissed her again, then swept her into his arms and into the bedroom. On the bed, he covered her body with his, kissing her, then moving down to take her nipples into his mouth one by one. Ebony tangled her fingers in his dark hair as he moved down her body, rimming her

deep navel with his tongue, then, making her gasp, his mouth found her sex. Teasing, biting, tasting her, he expertly brought her to a mellow orgasm, flooding her sex with desire. “I want to taste you too.” Smiling, she pushed him onto his back, as she took his cock into her mouth. He really was so big that she couldn’t take him all, and so with her hand, she fisted the root of him as her mouth worked, her tongue running up and down the silky skin, feeling the hardness underneath. “God, Ebony…” She knew he was close, but she didn’t pull away until he shot his cum onto her tongue, shuddering and groaning her name. She swallowed him down, salty sweetness on her tongue, then moved up to straddle him as he recovered. Atlas stroked her belly, cupped her breasts. “Your body is heaven,” he said breathlessly and laughed as she bent to kiss him, pressing her breasts and belly to his. He flipped her onto her back. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Ebony, all night long.” Ebony smiled. “Tell me more,” she purred as he sat back and grabbed a condom, rolling it onto his

stiffening cock. “You’re so big, baby.” “And you’re going to take it all, my darling.” He slipped his hands between her legs. “You’re so wet, sweetheart.” “I’ve been wet all day, thinking about this moment,” Ebony whispered. “Thinking about you, how you’ll feel inside me…oh…god…” Atlas slid into her slowly, filling her silky cunt with his rock-hard cock. For a moment he paused as they gazed at each other, savoring the moment, then a frenzied need took over them both, and they were fucking hard and fast, tearing at each other, Ebony’s nails digging into the skin of his back and his buttocks as she urged him on, gasping and panting. Atlas slammed his hips against hers, forcing her legs wider until her hips burned, but Ebony loved the pain of it. She wanted him, wanting all of him, the feeling of his cock driving deeper and harder inside her was ecstasy. Her head swam with delirious desire as Atlas pinned her hands to the bed, reaming her harder until she cried out, her orgasm hitting, making stars explode in her vision. She felt Atlas’ cock throb hard inside her, and he groaned her name as he too reached his peak. They collapsed together, breathing hard.

“Stay inside me for a while,” she said, and Atlas grinned. “I’d stay inside you forever if I could, beautiful.” His mouth was gentle on her lips now, tender, loving. Ebony swept damp black curls away from his forehead. “God, you’re one gorgeous man,” she said, chuckling. She still couldn’t believe he wanted her, but she adored the soft look of love in his eyes. “I hope I didn’t disappoint you.” Atlas laughed aloud, rolling his eyes. “Baby, disappointed is not even in my vocabulary tonight. Call it overwhelmed, call it blown away…even better than what I’ve been thinking about solidly for the last forty-eight hours. Man…I love the way your body fits perfectly next to mine…do you get that?” Ebony wiggled, reveling in the fact his cock, still semi-hard, was still buried deep in her cunt. “Fuck me again,” she said, nipping his bottom lip with her teeth. “Make me scream.” Atlas grinned. “Your wish is my command…” He excused himself for a moment to get rid of the used condom, then returned quickly to her arms. He hooked her knees over his shoulders then sat

up. “Is this uncomfortable?” Ebony shook her head. Atlas retrieved a new condom, and as he buried his face in her sex, Ebony rolled the condom down his long, thick shaft, feeling the steely muscle inside quiver at her touch. She cupped his balls in her hands, tickling them, teasing them until Atlas groaned, his voice resonating against her clit, then he was inside her again. This time was even more intense. Their gazes at each other never faltered as they fucked, Ebony bucking up against him, Atlas’s hands rough on her skin. They came again and again, fucking on the floor, against the walls, and even up against the wall-to-ceiling glass window, Atlas taking Ebony from behind as her breasts and belly pressed against the cool glass. Even in the shower, as dawn approached, they couldn’t get enough of each other, Atlas parting her pert, rounded buttocks and easing into her ass as Ebony urged him on. They explored every inch of each other with their eyes, their hands, their mouths. For the few times they were recovering, they talk and laughed and joked, and Ebony felt something shift in her soul. She had never had this kind of connection, this chemistry with anyone before.

Atlas stroked her face as dawn broke outside the window. “I cleared my schedule for today. Are you free?” “I am.” She wiggled closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Would you like to come to my home, meet my brother and nephew?” Ebony smiled. “I would love to.” She loved the hopeful look in Atlas’s eyes – he really wanted her to be part of his family, didn’t he? The feeling touched her on a totally different level than he had for hours just now, but no less deeply. “First, though, being an old man…” “At thirty-four…” Atlas laughed. “But, as jazzed as I am, how about we try and get some sleep? I want to hold you in my arms and rest.” Ebony tucked her head into his shoulder. “I’m always up for a nap.” Atlas chuckled, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I knew we had a lot in common.” “Sweet dreams, Atlas.” “Sweet dreams, baby.”

Part Two

Chapter Seven Felicity knocked on Romy’s office door. “Romy? Detective Halsey is here to see you.” “Thanks, Felicity.” Romy got up as the detective entered and shook his hand. “I’d say it was good to see you, but I can the see the expression on your face.” She motioned for him to sit and the detective thanked her. “Yes, unfortunately, I come bearing bad news. Carson Franks was released from jail this morning, on a three-million-dollar bail. Apparently, that’s short change for his family.” “Ugh.” Romy sighed. Another rich fuck getting away with murder. “Quite. Franks had to relinquish his passport, but…” “But with his kind of money, getting counterfeits will be no problem.”

Det. John Halsey looked at her. “Dr. Sasse…I read about your ex-husband, so I know you have experience with these kinds of things.” “Sadly, I do. The reason I became involved in Haven was because of that situation. The victim, Kiersten Merchant, was sadly typical of our residents here. At the moment it seems particularly bad, the deaths, the ones we can’t save.” Romy sighed, rubbing her face. “I’m sorry, Detective, did you have something else?” He nodded. “Dr. Sasse, we have reason to believe that Franks meant what he said. I came to make sure you and Mr. Tigri are taking the security issue seriously.” Romy nodded. “We are. We’ve more than doubled our security presence here, and at our homes. He won’t get near our facility, I assure you.” “I’ll be checking in with you, keeping you updated about the situation.” He glanced at the big picture window in Romy’s ground floor office, and Romy read his mind. “It’s bulletproof,” she said, “but if you think we ought to take extra precautions.” John Halsey nodded. “It’s just…I’ve dealt with obsessives before. Carson Franks blames this

facility, Mr. Tigri, and you, for Kiersten’s death. It’s just the way a psychopath’s mind works. Never mind that he stabbed her seventeen times. It’s always someone else’s fault.” Old memories worked their way through Romy and she pushed them aside firmly. Dacre had long been out of her life and she wouldn’t give him one more second of fear. At home, later, after the kids were in bed, Romy and Blue shared a soak in the tub. Romy lay back against Blue’s hard chest as he trailed his fingers up and down her stomach, and cupped her breasts. She giggled as he pretended to bite her shoulder. “How was your day, beautiful?” Romy hesitated before she answered, unaccustomed to hiding anything from her husband. Her desire to protect him won out though. “Oh, same old, same old. No new intake, which is always a blessing, so I had time to catch up with paperwork.” “Boring.” She laughed. “Ever the surgeon. Any big cases?” “Actually yes. We have a domino surgery soon.” “Woah.” A domino surgery was a rare and risky

procedure, involving multiple donor-recipients receiving organs in a simultaneous procedure. “Is this your first one?” Blue kissed her temple. “It is…you want in?” “Hell, yes I do…if we can make it work.” “Getting you privileges at the hospital is no problem, obviously.” Romy looked around at him. “Perks of getting busy with the boss.” Blue laughed. “Obviously.” Romy turned around, straddling him. Blue immediately reached for her breasts, and she grinned, then sighed happily as he took a nipple into his mouth. She reached down to stroke his cock, feeling it swell and harden under her touch. Blue lifted her up and impaled her on his shaft. “God, your cunt is so silky,” he said, kissing her mouth, crushing his lips against hers as she began to ride him, rolling her hips towards his. His fingers bit into the skin of her hips as she took him in deeper and deeper. “Romy, Romy, Romy…” The whisper of her name made her whole body tingle, and she increased her pace, looking down to watch his cock slide in and out of her. “A beautiful sight, eh?” Blue whispered, “I love watching us

fuck.” “God, yes…” Romy was close, and when Blue started to stroke her clit, she shivered and gave a little cry as she came, then smiled as she felt him pump thick, creamy cum deep into her belly. “I love you so much, Blue Allende.” “And I love you,” he said, kissing her passionately. As she caught her breath, Blue was gazing up at her with such love in his gorgeous green eyes that her eyes filled with tears. “Hey, hey, hey…” he said in concern, pulling her in for a kiss. “Perché piangi, bella? Why are you crying?” She smiled as the tears dropped down her cheeks. “They’re happy tears…I swear…I’ve never been so happy as I am right now. Our beautiful family… and you. Blue, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” “You’ll never have to find out, baby. I couldn’t live without you.” Romy pressed her lips to his again. “Let’s get out of this tub and go to bed, baby. I want to fuck you all night long.” As they dried themselves, Romy massaged moisturizer into her body. As she stroked the cream

into the skin on her belly, she traced the faint scar of the bullet wound she had sustained all those years ago. She’d been lucky; the bullet hadn’t hit any major organs and arteries, and their daughter, at the time only a tiny, tiny embryo, had also survived. Blue came up behind her and swept her into his arms making her giggle, and carried her off to their bed. As he covered her body with his, she gazed up at him and knew she had everything she had ever wanted right here, right now. No one could touch them.

VERY SOON , she would discover, in the worst way, that she was wrong.

CHAP TER E IG HT A boy, not older than seven or eight, skidded to a halt in front of Ebony and gaped at her. He had the same shaggy black hair and bright green eyes as Atlas and Ebony smiled at him. “You must be Fino.” A moment’s hesitation and then the boy smiled, the same wide, friendly, devastating smile as his uncle, and presumably his father. A moment later, Ebony

saw his father, Mateo, as he came down the steps of the Tigri mansion to greet them. “Hey, At, hey, Ebony, great to meet you.” Ebony thought he was going to kiss her cheek; instead, Mateo picked her up and twirled her around, making her shriek with laughter. Atlas chuckled, shaking his head. “He likes to surprise people.” “Ebony isn’t people, she’s family,” his brother corrected, setting Ebony back on her feet and grinning down at her. “You said it yourself.” “Did you?” Ebony looked at Atlas and smiled, touched all over again even though he’d said as much at the dinner table. “That’s the last time I tell you a secret,” Atlas teased his brother, while wrestling with his nephew. “I’ve never seen him so enchanted,” Mateo went on, smirking. Ebony flushed as Atlas sighed. “Dude.” Mateo grinned, unrepentant. “Sorry, bro. Fino, come give Ebony a hug.” Ebony was about to say he didn’t need to when Fino threw himself at her. She hugged the young boy, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the warmth of

the Tigri’s greeting, but she soon realized it was par for the course for the Tigri twins. Their house, while as palatial as she would have expected, was also a place of love and laughter. Mateo introduced her to the sweet Molly, who clearly adored both Mateo and his son, and enjoyed a jokey relationship with Atlas. Their chef, Annalise, prepared a delicious buffet for their lunch, and afterward, Atlas took Ebony on a tour of the grounds. It was bitingly cold, but Ebony hunkered down in her thick wool coat, and Atlas offered her his arm. The grounds looked like a Winter Wonderland – a hoar frost was clinging to the vegetation, the trees, and the fences around the property. “You grew up here?” Atlas nodded. “Most of the year. We spent a lot of time in Italy, too, Padua, where we were born.” He smiled down at her. “Maybe I can take you there sometime.” Ebony grinned. “One thing at a time, Atlas, I’m still processing that someone like you could want someone like me.” Atlas frowned. “I don’t understand what you mean.” “I mean, look at this.” She gestured around the

grounds, and to the house. “I’m just a kid from St. Anne’s. Obe and I went to regular high school, we brown-bagged our lunches, we worked three jobs through college to pay for it. I’m…ordinary, and you are…a god.” Atlas chuckled, but his eyes were serious. “Ebony, you are anything but ordinary. And what does all this mean except we got lucky to be born wealthy? Yes, both Mateo and I have made our own fortunes, but we had doors opened for us to help us achieve that. Believe me, I am the last person you should consider a god, whatever that means. I have plenty of demons.” Ebony wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Sexy.” Atlas laughed, but his eyes were serious. “We don’t know each other yet, Ebony, but I won’t hide anything from you. I want to know everything about you, and there’s nothing about me, or my life, or my past I want to hide from you. Ask me anything.” Ebony chuckled, pushing aside the fact that she was very definitely hiding something from him. “Um, okay. When did your parents pass?” “Our dad when we were kids, Mom a few years ago.”

She nodded. “And your step-dad remarried?” “On a whim, we think, but Stan practically brought us up, so we support him no matter what.” “And he has a son who looks like death.” Atlas half-smiled, but there was a serious edge to the curl of his lips. “It’s not that I don’t like Cormac, rather that we have nothing in common with him. The man has no sense of humor, and he’s a shark. He’s engaged to the heiress of a very, very wealthy New York family, because,” and he continued in a deadpanned voice, “inheriting Stanley’s billions won’t be enough.” Ebony snickered. “Must be hard for him.” “Right? Corman will always take the easy way to quick money – as long as it’s legal. I give him that, he’s a straight shooter. He doesn’t hide his ambition.” Atlas pulled her abruptly into a warm hug. “Ebs, he’s coming for Christmas, and I wanted to warn you about him. He has very little tact, and he’ll grill you endlessly. I’ll protect you, but he has a habit of being tenacious when he wants to know something.” She read easily between the lines. “You’re saying he’ll immediately assume I’m a gold-digger?” “I’m afraid so.”

Ebony shrugged. “Atlas, I wouldn’t care if you were poor and lived under a bridge. Your money is of no interest to me.” Atlas stopped and tilted her chin up so he could kiss her. “I know that, Ebony.” He pressed his lips to hers, his tongue massaged hers gently. “God, you’re beautiful.” Ebony’s mouth curved up in a smile. “I’m glad you think so.” Atlas chuckled, then grabbing her hand, moved away from the house. “Come with me.” He led her further into the grounds to an area shaded from the house, and Ebony gasped as she realized they were in a maze. “Wow. It’s like Harry Potter.” Atlas laughed. “Fino thinks so too. But what I have in mind right now is way more R-rated than even JK Rowling’s adult books.” “Adult what? She wrote books post-Harry? I think I’m brokenhearted,” Ebony joked breathlessly as he took her in his arms and kissed her, as his hands slid down the length of her body. “Good idea to wear a skirt, baby.” “In this cold?” she teased. “I knew you had skills.”

His hands slid her panties down her legs and over her boots as she unzipped his fly. Atlas produced a condom from his back pocket, and Ebony laughed. “So, this was a plan?” “Oh, god, yes…Ebony in the snow…man, I’ve dreamed about this.” She freed his cock from his underwear, and he cussed little at the cold, making her giggle furiously. Nevertheless, he was inside her in a flash, supporting her, as they fucked against the maze’s thick hedge. It wasn’t an entirely successful pairing; Atlas wobbled as their pace quickened and they tumbled to the snow, both laughing furiously. “Damn,” Atlas said, shaking his head, “In my head, that was so erotic.” Ebony had tears of laughter in her eyes as he helped her to her feet. “Worth a shot,” she said as she helped him tidy up. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.” “Yeah, you will,” he leered at her comically, and she giggled. “You are so silly for a billionaire businessman. Aren’t you all supposed to be arrogant and aloof?” Atlas shrugged. “That sounds like way too much effort. Mateo can do that to a certain extent, but

he’s a better actor than I am.” “You’re the softy of the two of you?” Atlas considered as he took her hand. “In different ways. Mateo is quicker to anger, whereas I’m the one who will take a lot until I blow, then it’s like Armageddon.” Ebony studied. “I can’t imagine that.” “I lost my temper at work the other day,” he admitted. “A man showed up, one responsible for his wife’s death on Romy’s operating table. If she hadn’t been there to restrain me …” She kissed him softly. “There are places and times when exploding is understandable.” “I’m so glad you agree.” He grinned at her and rolled his hips, playful once more as he tumbled her back into the snow and kissed her over and over, their laughter ringing through the vast property.

THE REST of the day passed quickly, playing with Fino, who Ebony was madly in love with, and joking around with the Tigri twins. As she and Atlas left for the city, Mateo hugged her. “So, we’ll see you in two days for Christmas?”

Ebony nodded, kissing his cheek. “You will, thank you, Mateo. Thanks for making me feel so welcome.” “My pleasure, honey.” He winked at his brother. “I always said my brother had good taste. You’ll meet my Molly then, too. I know you will get along.” Fino also clung to her and Ebony felt something shift inside her. Was this what having a child would feel like? This joy, this wonder of the new? “Come back soon,” Fino ordered, and Ebony grinned at him. “How can I resist such a request? Bye, Fino, next time I see you, you’ll have to teach me how to play chess.” Mateo coughed something that sounded suspiciously like ‘geeks’ and Fino grinned at his dad.

I N THE CAR , Atlas looked over at Ebony. She was smiling to herself. “Did you like my family, baby?” She nodded. “Very much, Atlas. Mateo and Fino have such a wonderful relationship.” “They do. No one was more surprised than me when Mateo stepped up to be a father. He

astonished me. He was always the playboy of the two of us, reckless, and sometimes irresponsible, but when Fino came along, it was almost instantaneous, the change in my brother. He’s incredible.” Atlas smiled at Ebony but was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “Hey, hey, hey…” Ebony half-chuckled. “It’s okay, it’s just so moving. And Fino is such a wonderful little kid.” “He is.” Atlas touched her cheek. “How about you? Do you want kids?” Her faint hesitation surprised him, given how well she’d gotten along with Fino. “In time. And I want a guarantee he or she will be exactly like Fino.” Ebony colored. “I mean…I’m not presuming…oh god, I really stuck my foot in my mouth.” Atlas grinned at her. “No, you didn’t. I already know I would love to have kids with you. Does that scare you?” Ebony gave a strange half-laugh, which almost sounded like a sob. “A little.” “No expectations,” Atlas said lightly, trying to ease the sudden awkwardness, “Just a fact.” Ebony was quiet for the rest of the journey and

Atlas wondered if he’d scared her off. “Look,” he said, as they rode the elevator to his apartment. “All I meant was…” “It’s okay,” Ebony interrupted him, her hand on his face. “I know what you meant, and I feel the same. But we’re in the very early days of whatever this is.” Atlas smiled ruefully. “You’re discovering one of my many faults – I get overexcited, and overreach. I’m just happy we met.” Ebony smiled at him. “Me too, Atlas.” They sat up talking until late, cuddled together on the couch until Atlas swept her into his arms and carried her to bed. Their lovemaking was tender and slow-burning this time, Atlas’s thick, long cock thrusting in measured strokes as they kissed and caressed each other. Atlas admired Ebony’s luscious body as she writhed beneath him, the dampness on her skin making it glow, the way her full breasts, her softly curved belly undulated with their movements. Atlas loved the feeling of being buried deep inside her velvety cunt. Her vaginal muscles contracted around his shaft, milking him, caressing him until he was shooting cum deep into her belly.

“God, you’re amazing,” he gasped, shuddering and groaning as he came, admiring the way her back arched up as she came, her thighs clamped around his waist. They fit together so perfectly. They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, but in the early hours Atlas woke suddenly. Finding the bed empty beside him, he sat up, listening. From the bathroom, he could hear violent wretching and immediately swung his legs out of bed in concern. “Ebs?” Receiving no response, he got up and went to the bathroom door, knocking gently. “Ebony? Are you okay?” The wretching began. “I’m coming in.” “No, it’s…” But her words were cut off by more vomiting. Atlas pushed open the door, glad it hadn’t been locked, and crouched next to her as she hovered over the toilet. Reaching for a washcloth and wetting it with cold water, he gently wiped her face the next time she came up for air. “Are you okay?” he asked with deep concern at her pallid, gray, sweating countenance. “Yeah, I’m so sorry, Atlas. I just woke up and felt nauseous.” “Why are you apologizing?” He smoothed her

damp hair back, lingering on her flushed skin. “This,” Ebony indicated herself, “is the opposite of sexy.” Atlas rolled his eyes. “God forbid you should be human. Do you want me to call a doctor?” Ebony shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ll wait it out – hopefully it’s nothing more than a twentyfour-hour thing.” Atlas frowned. “I hope so, baby. Look, let’s get you back to bed, I think I have some Pepto somewhere.”

L ATER , back in bed, Ebony pretended to fall asleep, and then when she heard Atlas’s breathing settle into a steady rhythm, she opened her eyes. You can’t put this off any longer, she thought, not if you want a future with this man. You’re pregnant, and it isn’t going to magically go away. See a doctor. See someone. Make a decision. The thought of abortion made her feel wretched, even though she supported the right to choose; at the same time, how could she tell this wonderful man she was pregnant with another man’s child? What would he think of her if he knew the circumstances of the conception? Would he think

she was a whore? God, you stupid, stupid woman, she berated herself and felt her eyes fill with tears. No. I will not wallow in self-pity. In the morning, I’ll call Romy and ask for her help, her advice. Decision made, she snuggled back into Atlas’s warm embrace and finally fell asleep.

Chapter Nine Romy pulled off her latex gloves and patted Ebony’s shoulder. “Yup, about two to three weeks, I would say. You can get dressed now, honey.” While Ebony tidied herself up, Romy sat down. Ebony had called her this morning and asked to come see her somewhere private. Romy had invited her to her home, and now, Ebony smiled at her gratefully. “Thank you for doing this, Romy. I wouldn’t ask, but I’m conflicted.” “I should say.” Romy gave her a warm smile. “Look, it must be a confusing time, what with this thing with Atlas, and I can totally see why you’re hesitant to tell him. That being said, Atlas is far from the oblivious billionaire. He knows stuff

happens which isn’t convenient, or perhaps the way society states things should happen. It’s life.” “So, you think I should tell him?” “It’s not my decision, but I always think honesty is the best way to go. Do you want the baby, Ebony? That’s the big question.” Ebony sighed and sipped the decaffeinated tea Romy placed in front of her. “That’s just it. I don’t know. My head is saying no, but the thought of getting rid of it…I just don’t know. And I have no way of contacting the father, I didn’t even see his face.” She felt her face burn red and looked away from Romy, who leaned over to pat her hand. “You know what? Blue and I have been to one of those clubs before, just for the adventure of it. Nothing to be ashamed of.” “Unless you accidentally get knocked up.” “Which reminds me, there are other considerations. We’ll need to do some blood tests.” Ebony closed her eyes. “I didn’t even think about STDs or worse.” “I’m sure you’re fine, but we need to make sure.” “God.”

Romy got up and came to hug her. “Sweetheart, listen. It’s under control. You and Atlas are using protection, right?” Ebony nodded. “Definitely.” “So, stop worrying. Take each step as you go, but I would talk to Atlas at least. Get things out in the open.” Ebony smiled gratefully at the other woman. “You’re so great, Romy. All of you Sasse women, I adore you all.” “You’re our family, Ebs,” Romy said with a shrug, “it’s what we do. We look out for each other.”

E BONY WAS STILL THINKING about what Romy said two days later as she and Atlas drove to the mansion to celebrate Christmas with everybody. Ebony was a little nervous – Juno and Obe had called to stay they wouldn’t be able to make it to Seattle after all, and so Ebony felt one of her anchors was missing. Romy will be there, it’s okay, she told herself. They were the first to arrive, and Fino immediately bore Ebony off to see his presents. She was sitting on the floor with him, playing a game when she heard a girl’s voice called him. “Fino?”

“Bella!” Fino got up and scooted out of the room, re-emerging a few moments later with a young woman, a little younger than Ebony, long red hair and a shy smile. “Ebony, this is Bella.” Ebony clambered to her feet and shook the girl’s hand. Bella smiled at her. “Atlas has sung your praises,” she said, her voice soft, “especially about your singing.” Ebony laughed. “He’s biased. It’s lovely to meet you.” “You too.” They both heard a more strident voice outside, followed by a mellower male chuckling, a low melodic sound, and two other people entered the room. The man, in his sixties, had a warm smile and big soulful brown eyes behind spectacles. His brown beard and hair were speckled with white. He introduced himself to Ebony. “Stanley Duggan, my dear, and this is my wife, Vida.” Vida Duggan was exactly how Atlas had described her – a faded beauty queen type, with dark ruby hair and sharp silver eyes which darted around the room and up and down Ebony, appraising her. “Hello, dear,” she said, “We’ve heard a lot about you. Perhaps you’ll be able to help Bella with her singing.”

Bella rolled her eyes. “Mom.” Ebony smiled at Bella. “I’d be happy to help in any way I can.” “See, Bella? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Hello, Fino, dear.” Fino gave Vida a cheesy, insincere smile which nearly made Ebony burst into giggles. Instead, she suppressed a smile, catching Stanley’s eye. He too looked amused, and Ebony felt they had shared a private joke. Stanley clearly had the measure of his wife and knew what she was like. It made Ebony warm to him, though she didn’t understand why such a kind man would have married such an obvious harpy. Atlas returned with a tray of drinks for them all, followed by a slightly-irritated-looking Mateo, and a tall, dark-haired man with a stony face, clearly The Angel of Death. Swallowing a burst of laughter at the nickname, Ebony heard him saying something about Harvard to Mateo, and Mateo, his green eyes flashing, sighed in annoyance. “He’s seven, Cormac. I think we have plenty of time to think about college.” “I’m just saying, it’s never too young to start preparing him for the rigors of the university

experience.” “I don’t even know if he’ll want to go to college, Cormac. Fino will find his own path.” Cormac opened his mouth to say more, but Atlas interrupted, probably hoping to head off a fullblown argument. “Cormac, this is my Ebony. Ebony, Cormac Duggan.” Hearing herself referred to as his sent a bolt of delighted heat through her. It had never occurred to her to want to be claimed, but it turned out she loved it. “Pleased to meet you.” Ebony stepped forward with her hand outstretched. Cormac Duggan looked at her but made no attempt to take her hand, and after a beat, Ebony dropped her own, flushing red and glancing at Atlas, confused. Cormac shook himself. “I’m sorry, yes, hello. You’re the singer?” He offered his hand now and took hers, holding it for a beat too long. Ebony drew her hand away, gently, not wanting to slight him. “I’m a singer, yes.” “More than just a singer, Cormac.” It was Atlas’ turn to sound irritated now. “A once-in-a-lifetime singer. Stanley…I have your next superstar here…

if you can fight off Quartet, that is. Ebony, Roman Ford called me yesterday, wondering why you haven’t called him.” Atlas grinned. “I took the blame, said I’d been hogging your attention and time, rather selfishly.” “Dear one,” Stanley put his hand on Ebony’s arm, “if Quartet offers you a contract, take it without hesitation. If not, then I’d be happy to help. Otherwise, the truth is, I’m retiring. I’ve done my time, and now I just want to enjoy my life.” Vida looked at her husband sharply. “What about Bella’s career?” Mateo mumbled, “God, not this again,” under his breath and hooked his arm around Bella’s shoulders. “Bells, what do you say we go check on the food? And by the way, everyone…Merry Christmas.” The atmosphere in the room changed in an instant as they all remembered why they were all there. As more guests arrived, Romy, Blue, and their kids included, the house filled with laughter and chatter, and when they all sat down to a magnificent dinner, Ebony felt more relaxed. Atlas was sitting next to her, Blue on her other side. Atlas leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I think Cormac has a little crush on you. It’s quite funny.”

Ebony glanced over at the man and flushed when she saw him staring at her. She honestly didn’t find it amusing. There was something about him that was weirdly unnerving. Next to him, his fiancé, Lydia Van Pelt, was chatting to Vida, and Ebony heard them trying to one-up each other talking about designer clothes that had been gifted to them. Mateo, on Vida’s left, caught Ebony’s glance and rolled his eyes. She grinned at him. “So, where do you hail from, Ebony?” Cormac’s booming voice cut across all of the conversation at the table, making everyone else fall silent. Ebony blushed a deep scarlet. “From here, actually,” she said, “I’m a Seattle girl, but I’ve been living in New Orleans for a few years. My brother is a dance teacher down there.” “So, you came back for Atlas?” Ebony shot a look at her lover who had gone very still. “I came back to perform at the fundraiser for Haven,” she said slowly, then firmly, “I stayed for Atlas.” Atlas touched her cheek. “I’m very glad you did, baby.” “Fortuitous.” Cormac said with a smirk, his meaning clear. Ebony, instead of feeling hurt, fixed

him with a glare. Oh, I do not like you, Ebony thought, and gave him the same insincere smile as he gave her. Mateo winked at her and mouthed ‘Ignore him.’ Atlas squeezed her hand, and she saw Romy shoot daggers at Cormac. I am amongst friends, she thought, her body relaxing. She looked at Atlas. “Darling…later, I need to talk to you about something. Something important that I should have told you before.” “Of course, sweetheart.” Atlas looked curious but not worried. “Are you okay?” Ebony smiled, suddenly at peace. “Totally and completely.”

AFTER LUNCH , Molly arrived, having had lunch with her own family, and Ebony could immediately see the love between her and Mateo. She and Ebony got along immediately, chatting easily as the twins took them all on a walk through the snowy grounds as evening began to fall, and thousands of white twinkle lights suddenly turned on, making the walk even more magical. Mateo and Molly strolled ahead, arm-in-arm, but Atlas stopped Ebony and kissed her, tender and

loving. “Thank you for spending Christmas with me, my darling.” “Thank you for inviting me.” She stroked his dark curls, gazing up at him. Had it really only been a few days? “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Ebony drew in a deep breath. “Atlas…a week or so before I came to Seattle, I had a one-night stand. It was…a mistake, but it happened. A few days ago, I discovered…” God, could she really say the words? Her stomach clenched painfully. “I’m pregnant.” There it was, out in the open. Atlas stopped. “Oh.” “Yeah. Look, I haven’t decided what I’m going to do. But I didn’t want us to go any further without you knowing. It wouldn’t be fair.” Atlas’s expression was unreadable, and Ebony studied him, her heart pounding. “I’ve just ruined this, haven’t I?” Atlas shook his head. “No, no, no, I’m just a little…taken aback.” He gave a short laugh. “Okay, well…” He trailed off, obviously deep in thought and Ebony waited. He was still holding her hand; a good sign, she thought, hopefully. Atlas took a deep breath in. “Well, let’s be logical

about this. Have you told the father?” “No.” Ebony shook her head. “Atlas, I honestly… I’m ashamed to say, I have no idea who he is. When I met him…it was in a specialist club, shall we say?” For a moment Atlas looked confused, then “Ah.” Fear touched her then, and an edge of desperation. “Atlas, I swear, I’m not a whore.” Atlas looked astonished. “Ebs, I never in a million years would think that, and you should never think of yourself like that. You think I’ve never been to a sex club before?” Relief washed over her powerfully. “There’s no chance you were in one in New Orleans two weeks ago, is there?” Ebony tried to joke, but Atlas grinned. “No, but right now, I wish I had been, truly.” He put his arms around her. “So, first thing is we figure out whether you want to keep the child. Then we go from there. Ebony, I want to see where we go from here, whether we can make it work. If you want the baby, I’ll be there for you.” “I can’t ask you to do that.” Ebony shook her head. “It’s too much. We’ve only known each other a week.”

His gaze, locked on hers, never faltered. “I know,” his voice was soft, “and already, I’m lost, Ebony. I’m lost.” Her eyes filled with tears at the love in his voice. “I feel the same way,” she whispered, and then his lips were crushing against hers, kissing as her hot tears dropped down her cheeks. Atlas placed a hand on her belly so protectively that she teared up again. “Let’s see where this goes,” he said. “Let’s see if we can do this.” Ebony closed her eyes, her mind whirling. Was he really offering to be the father of her child? Even if it wasn’t his own? She felt discombobulated by the conversation as if it had run away from her and nothing had really gotten resolved, at least not responsibly. For now, though, she would take his kiss, his promise, and enjoy the rest of Christmas.

I N BED that night they made love, quietly as the rest of the house slept. Ebony smiled up at him as Atlas moved in measured thrusts inside her, and knew she was falling in love with him. How could she not? He was everything, he was perfect. Wasn’t he? I don’t know, she thought, but for right now, he is

perfect for me. Can we be happy? She played out different scenarios in her mind and still didn’t find an answer. As he slept in her arms, though, she knew she would try, and there was something else. She didn’t know when exactly she’d made the decision, but she knew it was the right one, regardless of anything. She was keeping the baby.

CHAP TER TEN In the morning she awoke to raised voices and shouting from downstairs. The bed beside her was empty, and she grabbed her robe and went downstairs. “You fucker,” one of the twins was shouting. “You have no sense of family, of loyalty.” “Mateo,” Cormac’s booming voice echoed around the house, “Who do you think you are to lecture me on my sex life? You, of all people. You and Atlas, neither of you are angels when it comes to women. I mean, all of a sudden, you’re both coupled up and faithful? Come on.” “Says the man who is engaged for position and money and nothing else. Does Lydia know that’s

why you proposed?” “Why don’t you ask her? You seemed to have a pretty good idea of what she wants.” “It was six years ago, and we parted on good terms.” Mateo was almost growling. “I just don’t want to see her hurt.” “Or maybe there’s unfinished business between you.” “I’m in love with Molly.” Mateo sounded dangerous now and Ebony shivered at the ice in his voice. “Oh yeah, the teacher. You and your brother have really aimed at the heights with your women. A teacher and a whore singer.” “You fuck!” Ebony heard furniture crashing and realized Mateo had gone for Cormac. “You don’t get to call Ebony a whore, and you don’t disparage Molly, you asshole!” Feeling like she needed to do something before someone got hurt, she hurried into the breakfast room to find the two men struggling with each other on the floor. “Stop!” Both men froze, and Ebony heard footsteps behind her. “What the fuck is going on?”

Atlas stepped around Ebony, touching her cheek, then hauled his brother off Cormac, who got up smirking. Mateo was still enraged. “Get that bastard out of my sight, Atlas, before I lose it completely. Please.” Cormac held up his hands. “I’ll go, don’t worry. Another minute in this house playing this family charade would make me sick.” As he left the room, he stopped in front of Ebony, who recoiled, as he ran his eyes up and down her body in such a way as to make her feel naked, and violated. Cormac smirked at her obvious discomfort and left the room. Mateo ran a hand through his dark curls. “I’m sorry, Ebony, Atlas. I’m sorry I lost it.” “He was trying to goad you all day yesterday,” Atlas said, his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “And I let him get to me. Fuck.” Mateo looked at Ebony. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Don’t let what he said affect you. We all know it’s untrue.” Ebony smiled at him. “Thanks for defending me, Mateo.” “Anytime, gorgeous.” Mateo looked at his brother. “Cormac is poison. He’ll ruin Lydia’s life if we let

him.” “It’s not our battle, Mateo. Lydia is quite aware of what Cormac is like.”

ATLAS AND E BONY drove back to his apartment in the city that night. “Sadly, I will have work tomorrow. What will you do?” “Juno and Obe are traveling up so I’ll probably hook up with them.” Ebony told him, stroking a dark curl behind his ear. “In time for the New Year’s parties.” “Indeed.” “Cormac’s not invited.” “Good.” Atlas looked over at her. “He’s a treat, huh?” “Oh, yeah,” Ebony said dryly, “a real chocolatecovered treat. Gross.” Atlas laughed. “He’s considered quite the catch.” Ebony stuck her tongue out. “Ugh. Where? The mental asylum? The Home for Arrogant Douchebags?”

“You have his measure.” His smile faded. “Though I do wish Mateo wouldn’t engage him. Cormac has a way of getting to my brother, so much so, that Mateo loses his shit. Cormac hates that Mateo slept with Lydia first, even though it was six years ago. I think he’s marrying her not just for her money, but to spite Mateo. And now he’s annoyed that Mateo doesn’t care if Cormac sleeps with Lydia because he’s in love with Molly.” “The Love Lives of the Rich and the Famous,” Ebony sighed dramatically as Atlas laughed. “Seriously, though, Cormac hates Mateo, and sometimes, just sometimes, it scares me.” Ebony shook her head. “Cormac is a typical coward if you ask me. All bluster. How he’s related to Stanley is beyond me.” “Right? You liked Stanley, huh?” “Adored him, and Bella too. Vida…yeah could live without her.” Atlas smiled over at her. “I adore you, Miss Verlaine.” “Right back at ya, stud.” She squeezed his cock through his pants. “Oh, someone’s packing.” They joked and laughed all the way back to his

apartment, but once inside, they were stripping each other before they even reached the bedroom. As they made love, Ebony noticed he was even more careful with her, and realized it was because of the baby. It made her heart warm to him…what kind of man would take so much care over a child that wasn’t his? “I’m so crazy about you,” she told him, “so, so crazy.” Atlas grinned. “I meant what I said, Ebony, it’s you and me now, right? She nodded. “Me and you, whatever happens.” And they made love long into the night.

ACROSS TOWN , another couple was making love, kissing and talking. Blue stroked his hands down his wife’s body. “Are you looking forward to tomorrow, baby?” The next day was when their domino surgery was scheduled and Romy and Blue, ever the surgeons, were excited. “I have someone to cover me at Haven for twenty-four hours, so I’m all yours.” She’d read over the patient details again and again

until she knew everything by heart. Blue smiled at her now. “I have to say, I cannot wait to be back in an operating theatre with you.” Romy smiled up at him, stroking his face. “Me too…I miss that.” “We make an incredible team. I sometimes consider quitting Rainier Hope and coming to work at Haven, just so I can work with you all the time.” “Ha, don’t you dare,” Romy laughed, “You are the best Chief of Surgery that Seattle has ever seen.”

“Don’t tell Beau that, but thanks.” Romy sighed, gasping as she came and Blue buried his face in her neck before shuddering to his own climax. “God, Romy…I’ll never get tired of doing this.” “I love you, Blue.” “I love you too, baby.”

I N YET ANOTHER part of town, a man, alone, was not feeling loved. Carson Franks sat in his penthouse apartment, gazing at the video of his own wedding to Kiersten, all those years ago, before she had made him punish her for disobeying him, for trying to leave him. He still remembered the moment he’d thrust that knife into her, her shock, her pain, her pleading, and he reveled in it. He was only sorry that he’d only gotten to kill her once. The feeling of power he’d felt as her life slipped away in front of him…He had thought she was already dead when he dumped her body in the gutter where she belonged, as far as he was concerned, but he should have made sure. Now, that bastard billionaire philanthropist and his whore surgeon would testify about him in court,

and even his father’s expensive lawyers wouldn’t be able to keep him away from Death Row. So, he had only two options now. Suicide…or the removal of the witnesses, and that was an easy decision to make. He fingered the knife in his hand and smiled to himself. By the end of the week, before the end of the year, Atlas Tigri and Dr. Romy Sasse would be dead… and he would be a free man.

Chapter Eleven Cormac Duggan swung his legs over the side of the bed and strode to the bathroom. He heard Lydia call his name, but ignored her and stepped under the hot spray. His whole body was still wound tight from his fight with Mateo. For as long as he could remember, he and Mateo Tigri had hated each other. The more volatile Tigri twin was too much of a playboy for Cormac to ever respect and even his chosen profession of wine importing was, to Cormac, nothing more than a front to a life of idleness and frivolity. The one thing Mateo had ever done right was to bring Fino up, but even that rankled with Cormac. He hated himself for loving the boy, despite the

hatred of his father, but Fino was a special kid, and Cormac was envious of the bond that had formed between father and son. Because Cormac would never have that. A year ago, on a routine medical check-up, Cormac had asked the doctor to test his sperm count. “Lydia and I want to try and have kids as soon as we’re married.” He hadn’t expected the doctor to call him and tell him that he was sorry, but it turned out that Cormac had a troublingly low sperm count. “Do the tests again,” he had ordered, and the doctor complied, but the result was the same. “I’m afraid it’s very unlikely you’ll have children naturally, Mr. Duggan, but don’t give up hope. Low sperm count is not the same as no sperm count.” Since then, resentment and anger had grown within him, and seeing Fino at Christmas had only made that resentment, that hatred, toward Mateo fester. Cormac wanted kids more than anything, even money. He clung to that wish, knowing it was the one thing that saved him from being a complete asshole. Cormac closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He heard the door of the shower stall open and felt Lydia’s slender arms snaked around him.

There was a flash of irritation, but it subsided quickly. None of his rancor towards Mateo was Lydia’s fault. He turned and smiled down at her. “Good morning.” Lydia, her grey eyes shining up at him, was thinner than the women he usually went for, built to walk a catwalk rather than anything else, though she didn’t need to work for her living. The Van Pelts were on par with the Rockefellers and Vanderbilts of the world, and Lydia, while maintaining the façade of a fashion editor, was a maven of the socialite scene. She also hated Seattle; found it too accepting and laidback for her refined tastes. Cormac had to agree. The only reason why he’d agreed to come back for Christmas was to rub Mateo’s nose in the fact that now he, Cormac, was with Lydia. It had backfired spectacularly, he had to admit, but for one thing. He thought of that one thing now and smiled. Lydia, mistaking his grin for affection, pressed her lips to his. She’d had lip fillers over the summer which were only now beginning to look settled, but Cormac didn’t pay much attention. “Please tell me we’re going back to New York for New Year’s Eve?” Lydia groaned now. “Another few days in this place will drive me insane.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said smoothly, shutting off the water and stepping out of the stall, “but I do have some business here. I can’t promise I’ll be back in New York by then, but you should go if you feel like it.” Lydia, wrapping a towel around her head, narrowed her eyes at him. “So, we’ll be apart for the parties? Is that what you’re saying?” “I’m afraid so.” Lydia walked out of the bathroom, and Cormac sighed. It drove him mad that she constantly kept tabs on him – even if it was justified. Cormac had no intention of curbing his womanizing ways just because he was engaged – but he was discreet. He never fucked around in New York, always keeping his trysts for his frequent business trips. He almost always used professionals, too, paid for their discretion. He was under no illusions that Lydia wouldn’t kick him to the curb if she caught him. He went to find her now, sitting on the bed in her wet towel, brushing out her long blonde hair. Sulking. He sat beside her. “Darling,” he pressed his lips against her shoulder, “I know you hate it here, so that’s why I said you should go back. But it’s not what I want. I want us to be together on New Year’s.” He sighed. “I’ll even put up with my step-brothers and take you to their party – at least

you’ll be amongst friends there.” Too late, he realized that could sound like a rebuke. Lydia had always adored Mateo, regardless of their break-up. “What I mean is…family. Our family, for better or for worse.” He felt her shoulders relax a little and looked up at her through his dark lashes. She smiled at him. “When you put it like that…” Cormac smiled, a little triumphantly. He pushed her back on the bed and hitched her legs around his waist. Lydia was a good if bony fuck, and now she gasped as he launched his cock into her, clinging to him as they fucked, urging him on and on until he came, his cock pumping cum deep inside her as she cried out his name.

R OMY FELT STRANGELY nervous as she scrubbed in beside her husband for their domino surgery. Blue looked over at her. “You’re going to rock it, baby.” “You too, my darling. I don’t know why I feel so nervous.” “If you weren’t, I’d be worried,” Blue said, scrubbing his hands with the brush. “Five patients at the same time…it’s a big thing. Beau’s due any moment and Phillipa and Rex are scrubbing in in

OR 5. This is happening, baby.” Romy laughed at the excitement in his voice. “Chief, you know, you’re really hot when you’re like this.” Blue grinned at her. “If this goes well, I’m so having you in the on-call room later.” Romy chuckled. “Like old times. Remember that first time? We were so unprofessional, but god, it was so good.” “And keeps getting better. I love you, Doctor Sasse.” “Love you too, Chief. Let’s do this.”

AN HOUR later and the surgery was in full swing. Romy and Blue fell into the same patterns of old, moving around each other like orbiting satellites, reading each other’s moves, their wishes. Romy felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through her body. She missed this, the planned procedures, the highly organized routine. At Haven, her work was usually one of emergency surgery, a wide range of skills was required, but the fact the injuries she treated were almost exclusive borne of violence did get to her. Here, trying to combat what disease had done to the patient, she could work methodically, hone

her skills. She didn’t regret for one moment working for Haven but they lost a lot of patients, and each one of them haunted Romy. It meant more sleepless nights than she admitted to Blue. “Okay.” Blue lifted a diseased kidney from his patient, “Here we go.” The surgery was a well oiled machine (“A well coiled machine” Romy grinned when she remembered Gracie’s mistake), and the donor's kidney was brought in almost as soon as it was required. Blue looked at his wife. “You want to do the honors?” Romy nodded, her eyes twinkling at him over her mask. With his help, she transplanted the kidney into the young woman on the table and when it began to pink up and respond, they all relaxed. “Great job, baby,” Blue said, forgetting the rest of the people in the room, who snickered. “Ah, give me a break,” Blue joked, “My wife’s a rockstar.” Ten hours later, Blue released his exhausted staff, dumped his bloody scrubs in the bins, and snatched a kiss from Romy. “I’m going to check up on everybody then I’ll meet you in the on-call room in an hour.”

She kissed him back. “I’ll update the charts. Thank you, by the way, that was exhilarating.” Blue winked at her and went to check on the patients. Romy dumped her scrubs then went to find hot coffee and a power bar before settling into the resident’s lounge to do her charts. She checked her cell phone and saw a message from her Mom.

K IDS IN BED ALMOST on time, adorable little munchkins. You’re raising them well. Love you, good luck with the surgery. Mom xx.

R OMY GRINNED . Her mother, Magda, had been delighted to look after her grandkids for a couple of days. Still, Romy missed kissing her children goodnight. She worked solidly for an hour then, checking her watch, gave a grin. She knew Blue would be waiting for her and, as she went into the on-call room, she saw him already shirtless. “Now that is one magnificent sight.” “Get your sweet ass over here,” Blue said with a grin, and she went into his arms. She pressed her body up against his, she could feel his hard-on, rock

hard, against her belly. “Hmm, is that all for me?” She said with a grin, then shrieked with laughter as he tackled her to the floor, yanking down her scrub pants and underwear. “You better believe it’s all for you, beautiful.” She helped him kick his own pants off, then pulled her top over her head. He freed her breasts from her bra, taking her nipples into his mouth hungrily. Romy wrapped her legs around his back. “I want you inside me right now, baby.” Impatiently, she helped guide him inside, and as he thrust deep into her, she shivered with pleasure. “God, yes, Blue…yes, yes…” They fucked hard, not even regulating their cries as his cock drove deeper and harder into her. “Christ, you’re so beautiful…your cunt feels so good on my cock…Jesus…Romy…Romy…” Romy cried out as she came, her orgasm blasting through her body, making her vibrate with abandon. Blue groaned her name as his cock pumped thick, creamy cum deep inside her. “God, Romy…I love you, I love you so fucking much…”

As they collapsed together, Blue kissed her until she was breathless. “I’m the luckiest freaking guy on the planet,” he said and grinned at her. “I love you, Blue Allende, so much. Really mushy, saccharin stuff, you know?” They both laughed and Blue, withdrawing, scooped her onto the bunk, wrapping himself around her. “I like mushy.” He swept her hair back from her face, gazing down at her. “There is no one else on this planet who makes me feel the way I do when I look at you. Completely lost. Completely loved.” Romy flushed. Even after all these years, he could still make her feel like a giddy teenager. “When I met you, Blue Allende, everything made sense.” They kissed and talked until exhausted, then fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Chapter Twelve Juno and Obe had looked at her in surprise when Ebony told them she was taking them straight from the airport to Atlas’s home. “I’m kind of staying there,” she said, coloring bright red, and saw Juno and Obe grin at each other, understanding. “It’s

early days,” she told them, admitting her feelings for Atlas, “But I’m so excited. You’ll love him, and his family.” Her brother and his wife looked suitably impressed as the limousine drove them to the mansion, but as soon as they arrived, they were greeted by an excited Fino. Mateo grinned at them both. “So good to meet both of you, please, do come in.” After a lunch of steak sandwiches and champagne – luckily, Ebony had never liked champagne, so Obe didn’t notice her not drinking – Mateo showed them the grounds. He and Obe strode ahead, talking as Juno held back and looped her arm through Ebony’s. “So, you came to sing, and fell for the boss?” Ebony chuckled. “I know, so cliché, right? But, Juno, when you meet Atlas, you’ll know why. He’s incredible.” Juno nodded towards Mateo. “If he’s anything like that one – gorgeous, by the way – then I completely understand.” Ebony nodded. “I hope Livia won’t think I’m being unprofessional, it’s just…I’ve never, ever felt this way. It was like instant chemistry, you know?” Juno grinned. “I do know. It was like that between

your brother and me.” The thought of Juno and Obe doing half of what she and Atlas had been doing made Ebony turn bright red. “Didn’t hear that,” she teased her friend, who smirked. “There’s a whole lot of that to hear,” Juno said mischievously, and Ebony groaned and buried her face in her friend’s shoulder. “Didn’t. Hear. That.” They walked on, noticing that the light was fading. Mateo and Obe were far ahead of them now, almost hidden by a copse of trees that were heavy with snow. Fino ran back toward them, grinning. “I’m going back to the house to switch on the Christmas lights.” “Okay, be careful, Fino.” The boy scrambled past them toward the house, just as Mateo and Obe came back into view, waving at them. Afterwards, Ebony would try to make sense of what happened next, but still, she could not comprehend. As she turned to see Fino going into the house, a loud noise echoed across the grounds. For a moment everything froze, and then, to her horror, she realized what the sound was.

A gunshot. As she looked around, the next thing she saw was a body falling. Then there were people screaming and a body on the ground, bleeding. So much bleeding.

B LUE WENT to check on his patients for the third time, not quite believing how well the surgery had gone. All of them were responding well – one had a slightly elevated blood pressure, but that was to be expected. He chatted with a couple who were awake, but then handed over to his second-incommand, Bill. “Go get some sleep with that lovely wife of yours,” Bill told him and Blue grinned. “Sleep wasn’t what I had in mind, but I like your thinking. Thanks, Bill.” Blue went to the attendings staff room to find Romy, but seeing it empty, checked the on-call room again, then the cafeteria. Romy was nowhere. Going back to the surgical floor, he stopped a nurse. “Hey, have you seen Dr. Sasse?” “Not for a while. She was going down to the lab last time I saw her.” “Thanks.”

As he headed toward the stairwell, a very pale man who Blue recognized as one of his patient’s husbands, burst through the door. “Please, can you help? I think she’s been stabbed.” “Who?” Blue rushed towards him. “I don’t know, I think a nurse, or a doctor, or someone, a young woman…she’s on the floor in the corridor, and there’s so much blood. I just found her.” His heart thumping, Blue followed the man, trying to quell the panic in his chest. It’s not her, it’s not her. But even before he reached the corridor, he knew it was her. Romy. His Romy, laying in a pool of her own blood. Her scrub top was pushed up, multiple stab wounds in her belly, and her eyes were closed. She was so quiet, so pale. He dropped to his knees beside her with a keening wail and felt for a pulse. Nothing. Blue roared out his pain. “No, no…someone help us…someone help us...” His scream could be heard throughout the hospital as people began to rush to their aid.

MATEO ’ S EXPRESSION was confused for the longest moment, then, as the blood began to bloom across

his sweater, across his chest, understanding came into his eyes. Understanding and sorrow, along with a farewell. “Fino…” He gasped his son’s name as he touched the blood with his fingertips. “Son … sorry …” “Call 911!” Obe was the first to spring into action, picking him up. While Juno dialed 911, he and Ebony hauled Mateo into the house, locking the door behind them. They had no way of knowing if the shooter was still outside. Laying Mateo on the floor, Obe shoved up his sweater to get a better look at the wound. Blood from his mouth and nose poured out, mixing with the blood from what seemed like every other part of him, so much that it was impossible to tell if he’d been shot more than once Ebony fell to her knees beside him. “No, no, please…Mateo? Mateo?” She began to blow air into his mouth and pump on his chest. A split second later, they heard Fino returning, and Ebony looked at Juno, panicked. “Stop him…” But it was too late. “Dada!” Fino screamed and ran to his stricken father before any of them could stop him. “DADA!” Juno gathered the boy in her arms, but he struggled, kicking, screaming, clawing and howling in utter despair as she bore the distraught child out of the

room. “What the hell happened?” Obe demanded, watching Ebony perform CPR, waiting to take over when she tired. More gunshots echoed from outside, followed by loud shouts. “Fuck… Ebony, let’s get him away from the windows.” “Can’t stop,” Ebony gasped out as she kept up the rhythm on Mateo’s chest but they could both all see it was too late. His bright green eyes were glazed, his beautiful face pale slack. Ebony checked his pulse again then began to sob, laying her head on her lover’s brother’s chest as the chaos continued. Fino was somehow back in the room again then, on his knees in the blood. He patted Mateo’s face, eyes huge and afraid. “Dada?” “I’m so sorry, Fino,” Ebony whispered. “There was nothing we could do.” The boy’s wail broke all of their hearts and Ebony reached for him, holding the weeping child in her arms, her own bewildered, brokenhearted tears mingling with his.

CHAP TER THIRTEEN

Two victims, one dead, one clinging to life in a Seattle hospital. Both victims of a suspected revenge attack by a man who allegedly murdered his wife just days before Christmas – then blamed the victims – or in one case, the identical twin brother of a victim – for her death. Tonight, on KOMO, the terrifying story that has shocked America. We’ll return after these messages. Blue shut off the television and rubbed his eyes. He had watched every moment of news coverage he could, trying to make sense of what had happened a week ago. Mateo Tigri shot dead in his own home…and his beloved Romy, stabbed mercilessly and left for dead. How she was still alive was a miracle, but as he watched her, connected up to a myriad of machines, bandages, bruised, torn apart, he wondered if she would ever wake up. That terrible day, he had been panicked beyond belief, feeling helpless to act as Beau took over, ordering him out of the Operating Room. “No, Blue. We’ve got this. I saved her once, I’ll do it again, I promise you. Go.” He’d wanted to swing at his old friend for banishing him, yell at him that yes, he saved her before, but that was one bullet, a bullet which had missed her vital organs, but tonight, this night, her wounds were so much worse.

Butchered. That was the word which kept coming to his mind, and he winced and tried not to scream as he thought about it. Romy had been stabbed fifteen times. Her arms, her hands covered with cut and gashes – defense wounds. Her attacker had driven the knife so deep into her belly that it had damaged her spine. Her abdominal artery had been cut, her liver damaged, her gut sliced apart. If she made it, it would have to be a miracle, though she was clinging to life as hard as she could. And Mateo Tigri was dead. Apparently shot dead by the same man – a man who as of this moment was still free. Carson Franks had been arrested, but he’d had a cast iron alibi for both of the attacks. His smirk at the television cameras told the story. He’d paid someone to murder Atlas – who’d gotten Mateo instead - and had paid him well enough not to roll on him. Blue knew Carson had stabbed Romy himself. That’s what he liked to do, Atlas had grimly told him; he liked to kill women. And with both Atlas and Romy out of action, there would be no one to testify at his trial. But his hired gun had killed the wrong brother and

now Atlas was raging at the press, the police, and his own security team who had failed to protect his family. His anguish at his brother’s murder had been further exacerbated by hearing of Romy’s stabbing. Blue felt for the man…but… He was angry. Angry at Atlas, angry at Romy. How the hell had they kept this from him? The threats that Carson Franks had been making? If he had known, he would have put the hospital on lockdown. Romy’s attacker must have followed her from their safe, secure home to this place, the place that seemed secure. There were things he could have done, had he known…like lock Romy in a bulletproof, knife-proof cube and never let anyone near her ever again. Jesus. How were they here again? Blue got up and went to his wife’s side. He stroked her pale, cool cheek, wondering how much she could feel from within her coma. When he had seen her lying in her own blood, torn apart, he had thought she was dead. The attack had been so vicious, so merciless that it had taken seventeen hours to stabilize her. And then Blue had had the terrible task of telling his kids that Mommy was very sick. The twins weren’t old enough to process that Mommy wasn’t coming home for a while. It killed him to think of how six-year-old Gracie had looked at him with

serious eyes. “Daddy? Is Mommy very sick?” And Blue couldn’t lie to his daughter. “Yes, honey. She’s very, very sick, but she’s being looked after by the best doctors in Daddy’s hospital.” “Can we see her?” He hesitated. He didn’t want Gracie to see Romy attached to all of the machinery, barely breathing, barely alive, but what if Romy didn’t make it? “Gracie…Daddy will take you to see Mommy when she’s a little better,” said Magda as she touched Blue’s shoulder as she passed him, picking up Gracie. Blue smiled gratefully at his mother-inlaw. Magda was shattered, utterly devastated by Romy’s attack, but she had rallied behind Blue and the kids. Artemis, Romy’s oldest sister, was also on hand and had taken care of the twins, thinking of practicalities Blue hadn’t even considered like the fact Romy had been breastfeeding. Artemis had reassured him. “We’ll switch to formula, it’ll be fine, Blue. Mom, Juno and I will take care of the twins and Gracie. Romy will recover, and all of this will just be another thing we overcame.” Her voice had broken at the end of the sentence, and she began to sob, Blue hugging her tightly.

So many people had been torn apart by what Carson Franks had set in motion, he thought now. He kissed Romy’s forehead and went to his office. Beau Quinto, the retired Chief, was waiting for him. “How’s Romy?” “Stable, which is the best we can wish for at this moment. But she lost almost half her blood volume, Beau…if she wakes up, I don’t know if she suffered a brain injury due to lack of oxygen and then that spinal injury could mean any number of things—” “Woah, woah, woah…” Beau held his hands up. “One thing at a time. Romy’s stable, Blue. Concentrate on that. No signs of infection?” Blue sighed. “Thankfully, no. Not yet.” “I think that’s a good sign considering where her injuries were.” Blue closed his eyes, the image of Romy’s torn belly flashing into his mind again, making vomit rise up in his throat. “Who does that to a woman, Beau?” Beau, who had suffered his own trauma years before when his wife Dinah had been shot, shook his head. “I’ll never understand it, Blue, and I hope

I never will.” He studied his successor. “Blue…the Board reached out to me. Asked me to step in as interim head while Romy recovers. I told them I wouldn’t do anything behind your back.” Blue sat down heavily. “I appreciate your loyalty, but the Board is right. I cannot run this hospital while I wait for my wife to…God, Beau, she might die. She actually might die, and if that happens, I don’t even know how to exist.” And his friend had no words to comfort him or even hopeful lies to offer about recovery possibilities.

E BONY WAS SCARED . Atlas, removed from the initial shock of his brother’s murder, was a raging automaton, wanting to have sex endlessly, setting up nonstop meetings with record companies, drinking heavily and trying everything in his power to not deal with Mateo’s death. Between them, Ebony, Stanley, Bella and a distraught Molly tried to help Fino through the worst of it, but he was almost catatonic with grief. Atlas could barely look his nephew in the eyes. He applied to the courts for temporary custody and was awarded it, but after that, he stayed away from the boy.

Guilt. He feels guilty, Ebony told herself, but it broke her heart to see this family torn apart. So much hurt. She was glad she could offer Atlas some comfort, but sex felt like revenge rather than lovemaking. The way he touched her now…it was fucking, not making love, and Ebony’s body ached from the constant physical demands on it. Atlas would take her in the drawing room, only disengaging seconds before someone else would enter the room, leaving Ebony flushed and embarrassed. She had no idea what to do. Sex seemed like it was the only thing keeping him from going insane, but at this rate, Atlas was heading for a crash. And then there was her own child, growing in her belly. A month. Just one month since that night in that New Orleans sex club, and her child was still making her sick at the most inconvenient times, but every day she felt a bond growing with him or her. She’d wondered once, but now there was no longer any question that she wanted this child. She was still thinking about it when Atlas came to find her. He seemed calmer today, less eager to just fuck her, and when he saw her rubbing her belly, he smiled a genuine smile for the first time in days, albeit one so weary and griefstricken that it made her heart break. He put his hand over hers. “I can

see by the expression on your face…you’ve made a decision.” Ebony nodded. “I have…and I totally understand if you don’t want to be involved. I can’t ask you for that, however much I want to be with you. I can’t get rid of her.” “Her?” “Just a feeling.” “Baby,” Atlas bent his head to kiss her, “as far as I’m concerned, a father is someone who raises a child, not just someone who shares his DNA. If you would let me, I’d like to try and be a father to the little one.” Ebony felt a surge of warmth but cautioned herself. Atlas wasn’t in the best frame of mind to make such life-changing decisions. “Atlas, first, we need to try and look after Fino.” Atlas looked away from her, but she turned his head back to face her. “It’s not your fault. Mateo wasn’t killed because of you. He was killed by a madman.” “Who thought he was killing me.” “We don’t know that for sure.” Ebony sighed. “That being said, the man who actually shot Mateo

is in custody. If he rolls on Carson Franks, we’ve got him. Your security team did what it was supposed to do, baby, they got the shooter.” “But how the fuck did he get in in the first place?” “Well, that’s something your head of security has been looking into.” She leaned against him, speaking gently. “Atlas, we need to arrange the funeral.” “Jesus.” His arms went around her, and she could feel his body trembling. She looked up at him, his green eyes troubled and full of bottomless grief. “I love you,” she whispered and knew it to be the truth. Atlas tried to smile. “If you only knew how much I have fallen in love with you, Ebony Verlaine. I could not get through this without you.” He kissed her gently. “I want to look after you, care for you, and the little one.” “And Fino.” He nodded. “Of course, Fino. I know I’ve been disconnected and I cannot thank you and Molly and Juno enough. I’ll be better, I swear.” He splayed his fingers out over her non-existent bump. “If it’s a father for your child you want, you

have it, my love. Always.” They kissed, then heard a small gasp. Breaking apart, they saw Bella, her face pale, but smiling at them. “Are you pregnant?” Too late, Atlas removed his hand from Ebony’s stomach, but Ebony sighed. “I am. Very early days.” She glanced at Atlas who shook his head. “We’re delighted,” Atlas said before Ebony could say anything else. “Obviously, the timing is unfortunate, but we hope that our child will help us all heal. Will help Fino heal.” Bella gave a cry of happiness and hugged them both. “I’m so happy for you both.” Ebony smiled; Bella really was a sweetheart. When she went off to find Fino, Ebony looked up at Atlas. “You didn’t need to protect my baby and me from the truth.” “As far as I’m concerned, that is our child in there,” he said softly. He cupped her face in his hands. Ebony felt wiped out by love for this man, and she was so relieved that he seemed to be calming down, his crazy grief beginning to give way to acceptance. She stroked his handsome face, the lines of sorrow etched deep around his eyes. “Come on, baby.

Let’s go find Fino.” As they climbed the vast staircase, they heard someone call at the front door, and Atlas’s assistant called out to them. “Mr. Tigri?” Atlas went back down and spoke to the man at the door. Ebony watched as the man handed Atlas an envelope then turned away. Atlas tore the envelope open and cursed loudly, rage consuming him all over him again. Ebony went to him. “What is it, Atlas? What’s wrong?” Atlas waved the letter, his eyes wild. “It’s Cormac. He’s suing me for custody of Fino.”

Part Three

CHAP TER F OURTEEN Ebony rubbed Fino’s back as he struggled with his math homework, then glanced at Molly. The other woman was staring out of the window, her face etched with such a bottomless grief that Ebony couldn’t help but feel terrible for her.

“Molly, honey, why don’t you go grab some private time? I’ll look after Fino.” Molly turned to her as if she hadn’t heard what Ebony had said, but then nodded, wordlessly, and stumbled from the room. Fino, dark circles under his eyes, looked at Ebony. “She misses Dada.” “She does, baby, we all do.” She stroked Fino’s dark curls away from his face. “You know, if you want to talk about Dada, anytime, you can always talk to me, or to Uncle Atlas, or Bella. I know Molly is struggling.” “So is Uncle Atlas,” Fino said, with wisdom far beyond his years. He sighed and pushed his homework away from him. “I don’t want to do this.” “Then you don’t have to, honey.” Fino smiled at her, a soft, uncertain smile. “You’re not going away, are you?” Ebony shook her head. “No, darling, I promise.” Fino got up and came to her, crawling onto her lap and wrapping his small arms around her. Ebony hugged him tightly. Fino’s little body was trembling. “I want to see Dada.” “I know, baby, we all do but…darling, you know

we can watch old home movies, or look at photos.” “It’s not the same. He would sing to me, or throw me in the air. Uncle Atlas…I wish he would do that.” “You can ask him, my love, I’m sure he’d love to, it’s just he doesn’t want to upset you. I think he thinks because he looks just like Dada, that it will upset you.” She felt Fino shake his head. “He doesn’t look at me anymore. I think he doesn’t like me.” Ebony’s heart shattered. “Fino…Uncle Atlas is hurting, your Dada was his twin, and he feels… guilty that he is still here when your Dada isn’t. But he likes you, honey. He loves you so much.” “It’s not his fault a bad man hurt Dada,” Fino whispered. “I know that, but he feels responsible.” “I miss him. I miss Dada. And my Uncle Atlas.” Ebony’s tears flowed unchecked then, and she buried her face in Fino’s curls. “He loves you, baby, I swear he does. You haven’t lost him too. Just give him some time. He’s trying to make sure you stay with us for good now.” Fino looked up at her. “Like as a new daddy?”

“He’ll never replace your father, sweetheart,” she promised, feeling his body rigid with confusion. As she spoke, he relaxed slightly. “He’s my uncle. But will you be my momma?” She smiled through her tears. “If you want me to be, then yes, darling.” He didn’t say anything else, but his little arms tightened around her. Ebony looked up to see Atlas watching them from the doorway. His eyes were soft. “I love you,” he mouthed, and she smiled at him.

L ATER , after Fino was in bed and the house was quiet, Ebony and Atlas retired to their room, laying on the bed together and talking. Atlas, who had been meeting with his lawyer, stroked his thumb over her cheek. “Cormac doesn’t have a case, that’s the bottom line. I just don’t understand why he thinks he does, why he feels he has to do this. He’s always been an asshole, but I never thought he was this petty.” Ebony shook her head. “I can’t tell you why,” she said, “maybe it’s just a reaction to Mateo dying. Maybe he feels guilty for treating him so poorly. Maybe he thinks by bringing Fino up, he can

redress the balance.” Atlas smiled and kissed her. “I love the way you try and see the good in everybody, even in the worst situations.” “Atlas, you know you can tell me anything, right?” “Of course.” “Then tell me…is there anything, anything Cormac could use against you? However small, however insignificant. Because if I know about it, we can get out in front of it.” Atlas sat up, studying her. “Ebony Verlaine…the fact you are so invested in this means more to me than you would ever know.” Ebony sat up, crossing her legs underneath her. “Thank you, but you avoided the question. We swore to each other we wouldn’t hide anything.” Atlas sighed, hesitating. “The only thing, and I mean, the only thing he could even try to use was a bust for possession at college, and it was one joint, personal use. It didn’t even go to court; I got a caution. But that’s fifteen years ago, and no judge is going to hold that against me.” “Cormac must know all of this, so why the hell is he going through the motions?” Ebony sighed and

wriggled closer to Atlas. “Darling, I can’t see this going any other ways than yours.” He pressed his mouth against her forehead. “Me too, baby. You, I, Fino and the baby will be a family.” He pushed her onto her back and covered her body with his. Ebony, smiling up at him, wrapping her legs around his hips, sighing as he thrust his cock deep into her. “I love you.” Atlas’ pace quickened as his arousal grew. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” They made love until after midnight, then fell asleep. Ebony’s dreams that night turned into vicious, bloodthirsty nightmares, reliving Mateo’s murder, then watching in horror as each of her friends, her brother, even Fino, was slaughtered by a faceless man. Finally, he turned to her, gun raised and shot her again and again until she woke with a cry. Atlas sat up immediately, and she told him about the dreams. He took her in his arms. “No one is going to come near us again, I swear it.” But Ebony found she couldn’t go back to sleep. Her stomach roiled with nausea, and finally, she slipped from the bed and went to sit in the

bathroom, leaning her hot head against the cool tile. For once, her body didn’t betray her, and she wasn’t sick – maybe she was finally turning a corner. At six a.m., the phone rang, and Blue told them that a different corner had also been turned at the hospital. Romy was waking up.

Chapter Fifteen Romy wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Although she was delighted to see Blue, see the relief in his face as she woke from her coma, feel his kiss on her dry lips, the pain of her injuries was searing – and worse, she kept reliving the stabbing over and over again.

I T HAD HAPPENED SO QUICKLY, so utterly shockingly. One moment, she was walking down the corridor, charts in hand and the lights had gone out. One more step and she felt a crushing blow to her head and slumped to the ground. Then someone, a man, was flipping her onto her back and pushing her scrub top up. Dazed and disorientated, she heard him say, “I’m going to enjoy this.” Then

the

pain,

god,

the

overwhelming,

unimaginable pain as he drove the knife into her soft belly again and again. Her mind whirled… Dacre? Wasn’t this what Dacre wanted to do to her? Had he come back from the dead? No… He gripped the handle of the knife and stabbed her again, with more force this time. Romy could feel her spine scream with pain – he’d hit it. Oh god… she really was going to die here, wasn’t she? No more Blue. No more life. Just death. Her wouldbe-killer stabbed her again, clearly becoming aroused by her pain. Someone…please help me… she closed her eyes, not wanting to see the triumph on his face. The shout. Closer this time. Now Dacre…no, not Dacre. Another man, another…Franks…Carson Franks…yes…that was him…cursed loudly and began to stab her with more urgency. She raised a hand, trying to stop him. Whoever it was coming would be too late. God, a blow so hard that Franks had trouble wrenching the knife out of her. She could smell her blood, smell the rust and salt of it. Her attacker bent down and whispered in her ear as she gave into unconsciousness. “I promised I’d gut you, pretty girl, and I have. You won’t survive this…but if, by some miracle you do, I’ll do it

again, and again, and again until I know, once and for all, that you’re dead.” He gave a throaty chuckle. “And then I’ll kill your husband and children…” She had no time to scream before the emptiness came.

R OMY GROANED NOW , hearing the scraping of a chair. “Sweetheart?” Her mom. She felt Magda sweep a hand onto her burning forehead. It felt nice, cooling and soothing. Momma? God, she hadn’t called Magda that in years, but all she wanted to do now was cry. These last few years with Blue, the kids, dealing with Dacre and Gaius, and now this…everything had happened so quickly. “Oh, sweetheart.” Magda, tears swimming in her own eyes, dried her daughter’s tears. “It’s okay, we’re all here, we all love you.” Blue. Romy’s mouthed the words, her throat tinderdry. Magda helped her sip some water. “He’s just getting some coffee, darling. He’s been awake for twenty-four hours, hoping that since you woke up, he’d be able to talk to you.”

Tired. Magda nodded. “You will be honey, you’ve been through a tremendous trauma. Gracie, the twins. “Artemis has them at the moment. She and Juno have been taking turns looking after them. Romy, do you remember what happened?” She nodded determinedly. Carson Franks. Magda frowned. “You’re sure?” Romy nodded again. She gazed at her mother. Why? Magda sighed. “He says he has an alibi, but I believe you, darling. We’ll inform the police. But don’t you worry about anything…Blue has been working with them, as well as Atlas.” Atlas? Romy saw her mother’s eyes cloud over. “Atlas is fine, sweetie…but Mateo…Mateo was shot and killed. We think he was mistaken for Atlas.” Romy groaned silently, and began to sob, covering her face with her hands, inconsolable, and eventually Magda had to call one of the nurses. The nurses injected a sedative into Romy’s i.v. drip. “You need to relax, Mrs. Allende. Your blood

pressure is a little high for my liking.” Romy closed her eyes. Everything was such a mess. When she looked at her mother again, it was with anger. She managed to just croak, “Why isn’t Franks in jail?” “They’re working on it, honey. Now that you’re awake, it will be a big help and don’t worry about security. There are two huge guards outside your door, and the kids have a protection detail like they’re members of the Royal family. Which they are – to me, at least.” Magda half-smiled and Romy squeezed her hand gratefully. I love you, Momma. Magda bent over and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Get some more sleep, baby. The more rest you get, the better you’ll feel. I’m sure Blue will be glad you’re lucid. He’ll wait if you’re asleep when you come back.”

B LUE ALLENDE WALKED SLOWLY, heavily, up the stairs to Romy’s floor. Since Romy’s attack, he hadn’t had more than a few hours’ sleep, and it was taking its toll. Now Romy was…not out of danger, he thought, she’ll never be out of danger while Carson Franks is free. No, Romy was beginning to

recover, and now that she was, he could start to think straight again. “Blue?” He turned to see Atlas Tigri walking up the stairs behind him. “Hey, Atlas.” His anger at the man was tempered now that Romy was awake – Blue had guessed that it had been Romy who asked Atlas to keep Carson Franks’ threats quiet. It would be just like her, after all. Not wanting the fuss. Besides, Atlas looked broken. Losing his twin brother, and worse, it being a case of mistaken identification…Blue didn’t know how Atlas was still standing. “How are you doing?” Atlas shrugged. “Like you, I suspect, some good days, most bad. If I didn’t have Ebony and Fino…” Blue clapped his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry, Atlas, about Mateo. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” Atlas ignored the mention of his twin, his eyes anguished. “How’s Romy?” “Still groggy. I’m just on my way to see if she’s still awake. Come with me.” The two men made their way back to Romy’s room, where Magda smiled at them both. “She’s in and out of sleep and her voice isn’t very strong, but

she’s lucid. She remembers what happened, and who did this to her.” “Franks?” Magda nodded. “She seems angry.” “Wonder why. Hey, beautiful.” Blue stroked Romy’s cheek, and she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Hey, sweet thing,” Blue said tenderly, and bent down to brush his lips against hers. “I brought you a visitor.” He stepped aside so Atlas could see Romy, and she, him. Romy’s eyes filled with tears and she reached for Atlas’s hand. So sorry. Atlas was visibly moved. “Thank you, Romy. Just keep getting stronger, will you? For all of us. Ebony sends her love. When you’re stronger, she’d love to see you.” Romy nodded. She looked at her husband. And the kids. Blue hesitated, and she narrowed her eyes at him. He chuckled. “Fine, as long as they don’t crawl all over you. You’re still very sick, baby.” They’ll make me… “…feel better.” Romy croaked, motioning for more water. Blue pulled up a chair next to her and helped her take a drink, then stroked her hair back from her

face, his gaze intent on her. “Don’t worry, baby,” she whispered, finding that speaking almost under her breath worked well. “I’m going to be okay.” Blue half-smiled. “You are in so much trouble, honey.” “I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Carson Franks. We get threats all of the time, so I wrote it off as another…it was my decision not to say anything so don’t blame Atlas.” Atlas started to protest, but Romy stopped him. “Atlas…words cannot express how sorry I am about Mateo.” “Romy, please, don’t. I should have made sure we were fully protected. I think, like you, I didn’t take the threats seriously enough.” Blue was still studying his wife. “Romy…you sure it was Carson Franks who stabbed you?” “Definitely. Mom tells me he says he has an alibi. Whoever is giving it to him is a liar. I saw him, I heard him, every second while he was attacking me.” She swallowed hard, remembering. “He threatened to finish the job, should I survive, and then he told me he would go after you and the children.”

“Motherfucker!” Blue hissed and got up, pacing. He yanked out his cellphone to call Det. Halsey. “Halsey?” “Hey, Dr. Allende, I was just going to call you. Mateo Tigri’s shooter just rolled on Carson Franks. We’re going to his place to arrest and charge him now.”

Chapter Sixteen Ebony’s shoulders slumped. “God, that’s wonderful news, baby.” She squeezed her eyes shut, grateful Atlas was at the other end of the phone and couldn’t see her crying. “And you promise, Romy’s okay?” “She’s getting there, it’ll be a long road, but I think hearing Carson Franks will be put away for a long time is helping.” She heard him sigh. “Tired?” “Exhausted, but I need to check in with my lawyer before I come home. I could bring take-out?” “Good idea. Fino seems a little brighter, still clingy. Bella’s taken him out for hot chocolate.” Atlas sighed again. “Good. You’ve been an angel with him, but I’m glad you have some time to

yourself. I’ll be home soon. I love you.” “I love you too, baby. Drive safe.”

THE EMPTY HOUSE still echoed with grief. Ebony decided she would go to the kitchen, bake some cookies while she waited for the others to return. Stanley, who she had grown close to over the past couple of weeks, was in New York finalizing his retirement plans, and with Bella and Fino out of the house, she felt strange about being here alone. Mateo’s death had left a rip in their foundations, and Ebony didn’t know how they would ever repair it. She tried to imagine if Obe died, how she would feel, but couldn’t even bear to contemplate it. Pushing the thought away, she settled into making some oatmeal raisin cookies, and when she slid them into the oven, the kitchen began to fill with the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. Ebony rubbed her belly unconsciously, then startled as she heard a step behind her. Cormac Duggan smiled at her, but his eyes were narrowed and cold. “Ah, Ms. Verlaine. I see you’ve made yourself at home.” Don’t rise to it. “I think Atlas would rather you didn’t come here at the moment, Mr. Duggan,” she

snapped back. “Not while you’re waging this petty custody battle.” Cormac hooted. “Wow, he’s really turned you into his Stepford Wife, hasn’t he? Tell me, with your month-long experience of this family, what else Atlas would like?” Ebony grimaced and turned away, but he grabbed her wrist. “I asked you a question.” Ebony wrenched her arm from his grip. “Don’t you ever touch me again,” she spat at him, then took a deep breath. “Look, I’m asking politely. Please leave.” At that moment, something in her stomach cramped violently, and with a gasp, she bent double. Cormac’s mood shifted immediately. “Are you alright? Here, sit down.” He pulled a chair across and helped her into it. Ebony kept her head down, black dots appearing at the corners of her vision. She heard Cormac running the faucet then he was back with a damp cloth. “Here, put this on your head.” Ebony sucked in a couple of lungfuls of air and concentrated on figuring out what the pain was. Was she miscarrying? Jesus, woman, don’t be so dramatic, it’s probably gas. Another sharp twinge

and she clenched her fists tightly. Ouch. A definite cramp, but she knew it could mean nothing. “Are you okay, Ebony?” Cormac’s voice was softer now. She nodded, but then an even harder cramp hit her. “Jesus, no…I’m not okay. Pregnant,” she hissed through gritted teeth. The next moment, Cormac had swept her into his arms, and before she knew it, she was in his car. “What the hell are you doing?” She managed to choke out the question between doubling-up. “Getting you to an E.R.,” Cormac said. “Not only is it the responsible thing to do, and you do seem to be in considerable pain, but I can only imagine how Atlas would use the fact I was with you if you do miscarry.” Ebony looked at him. “Atlas isn’t that petty, Cormac.” Cormac gave a short bark of laughter. “Ebony, don’t be so naïve. I know you love him, but you’re young, and you see him through rose-tinted glasses. Mateo wasn’t mature enough to raise a child – what makes you think Atlas is?” “Mateo was a wonderful father, and you damn well know it. Oh…oh…” The pain was getting worse,

and she cried out as the car went over a pothole. Ebony felt Cormac’s hand on her back, rubbing it. She didn’t understand him; he seemed so kind, and yet he was set on making Atlas’ – and by extension, Fino’s – lives a living hell. “Cormac, I’m asking you to please drop this lawsuit. When our baby is born, Fino will have his cousin and we’re going to be a family. If you really love that little boy … don’t tear us apart.” Cormac didn’t answer her but instead tapped on the phone on his dashboard. A second later, Ebony heard Atlas’s voice. “Atlas, I’m with Ebony…I’m driving her to the E.R. at Rainier Hope. I think she’s just experiencing cramping. I just want to get her checked out.” Atlas was silent for a second. “Can I speak to her?” “You’re on speaker phone. I’m driving.” “Atlas?” Immediately Atlas’s tone softened. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Has Cormac been bothering you?” “No, not at all. I’m sure this is nothing, but it’s best to get a doctor to say so.” “I’ll meet you in the E.R., baby.” There was a

silence. “Thank you for bringing her to the hospital, Cormac.” “You’re welcome. See you soon.” Ebony didn’t have the chance to say goodbye before Cormac shut off the phone.

ATLAS WAS WAITING for them at the entrance, and he helped Ebony into the cubicle the receptionist directed them too. Cormac followed them, but as he stood by Ebony’s bed, Atlas turned to him and offered him his hand. “Thanks for bringing her in,” he said coolly, “But we can take it from here.” Cormac looked at Atlas’s offered hand a long moment before shaking it. He gave Ebony a look she didn’t understand, then nodded, once, briefly. “I’ll let Bella know what’s going on.” “Thank you.” As he turned to go, Ebony called out to him. “Thank you, Cormac…and please, consider my request. That’s all I ask.” Cormac nodded again, holding Ebony’s gaze a beat too long, then left them alone. Atlas pulled up a chair next to the bed. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “How are you feeling?”

“Crampy,” Ebony winced as another hit. “God, I know I said I didn’t know what I wanted before, and when I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t know what to do, but I hope to God that I don’t lose her.” Atlas kissed her softly and said nothing, the pain of so much loss already etched deeply in his face. In a few minutes, an OBGYN joined them. Dr. Melissa Fraser smiled at Ebony as she closed the curtains around them. “Hey there, I hear you’ve been having some pretty painful cramps?” Ebony nodded, and Atlas, holding her hand, studied the doctor. “Is it usual to have these symptoms so early in the pregnancy? She’s been having morning sickness too.” “How far along are you?” “About six weeks or so.” “Well,” the doctor was examining her stomach, “it’s probably just cramping from the fetus attaching itself to your uterus. Are you spotting?” “A little.” Dr. Fraser nodded. “Then I would be inclined to think that this is that. But we’ll run a few tests and do some scans to make sure you’re not experiencing anything like a tubular pregnancy. Is

there anything in either of your medical histories I should know about?” Ebony and Atlas looked at each other for a long moment then Atlas, clearing his throat, spoke. “Doctor…I’m not the biological father of this child, although I am hoping Ebony will let me be his or her father, to be sure.” “Ah, okay.” The doctor’s face wasn’t judgmental in the least much to Ebony’s relief. “So, do you know anything about the father?” Ebony’s face burned bright red. “I’m sorry, I don’t.” “Well, not to worry, let’s just concentrate on you, Mommy.” The doctor ran through some basic questions as she examined Ebony, then left them alone while she went to find an available scanner. Atlas kissed Ebony softly. “Are you okay, honey?” Ebony nodded. “I feel a little foolish, but yes, I’m okay. It does make me realize how little I’m prepared to be a mother though if I don’t even know the basics of pregnancy.” “Sweetheart, that’s something we can do something about. Classes, online research, talking to Artemis, or Romy – when she’s better, of course.”

“Of course.” Ebony leaned into Atlas’s touch as he cupped her face in his palm. “Maybe after we’re done here, we can go up and see her.” “I’ll call Blue and see if she’s up to it. After the scan,” he added as Dr. Fraser returned. Ebony grinned at him, at the excitement in his eyes. She loved how the thought of being a father thrilled him. How Cormac could say he wasn’t qualified… Midway through the scan, the doctor smiled at her. “Well, all is well, Ebony. I think it’s just the fetus implanting itself and causing you some pain. Obviously, if it continues or your bleeding gets worse, come back.”

E BONY THANKED THE DOCTOR , and in a few minutes she was dressed and ready to go. Atlas was on the phone as she signed some paperwork and as she turned, she was surprised to see Cormac standing out in the corridor, staring at her. Ebony stepped toward him, then stopped as she registered the dislike on his face. It was so palpable it shocked her, and she gaped at his retreating back as he turned and stalked away from her. What had she done wrong? Fuck. Her hormones were working against her now, and her eyes filled with easy tears. She quickly

dashed them away before Atlas could see them. He wrapped his arms around her now. “Blue says Romy is sleeping at the moment but we can go sit with her for a while.” “Okay.” Atlas looked down at her. “You okay?” Ebony nodded, and kissed him. “Always with you.” And she took his hand and led him to the stairwell.

B LUE STEPPED out of Romy’s room to take the call from Det. Halsey. “Did you arrest Franks?” He heard the hesitation in John Halsey’s voice. “He got away. He knew we were coming and disappeared.” Blue cussed loudly. “Jesus, Halsey! How did this happen? Who screwed us?” “We’re working on it, Doc, I promise. Until we get more answers, we’re sending extra protection for your family, for Mr. Tigri’s, for Haven. We will get our man, Dr. Allende, I promise you.” Blue ended the call and cursed under his breath. He hated the thought of Franks being out in the world, able to get to Romy. The day she’d been stabbed…

it had been the worst day of his life, even worse than the day his step-brother had shot her. Would the woman he loved ever be safe? “Hey, Blue.” He turned towards the sound of the soft voice and smiled at Ebony. “Hey, yourself, gorgeous. Everything okay?” She smiled at him. “Yes, the baby is fine.” Blue smiled and kissed her cheek, shook Atlas’s hand. “Congratulations to you both. And don’t let anyone tell you it’s too fast – I wanted to marry Romy and have kids with her the minute I met her.” Atlas nodded. “Thanks, man.” Blue looked at him. “Hey, while Ebony is in with Romy, can I grab a couple of words? No biggie.” “Of course.”

W HEN THE TWO men were alone, Blue repeated what the detective had told him. Atlas’ good mood disappeared. “Fuck.” “Yep. Look, it goes without saying, security is a priority.”

Atlas nodded. “Considering our combined wealth, we can throw everything at it.” “Agreed. Look, I think the more we coordinate our plans, the better. Is your mansion secure?” “It is now,” Atlas said grimly. He sighed, rubbing his face. “Look, there’s no way else to say it, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything about the threats.” “Atlas, there’s no use in brooding over that – at least that’s what I’m telling myself now. Romy’s alive…I’m sorry. I liked Mateo very much, he was a great man.” “He was. It’s Fino who I’m scared for. Ebony has been so great with him, as has Molly. Now this thing with Cormac…” “He’s a jackass,” Blue said, angrily. “Anyone who could do this…” He trailed off. “Cormac, we can handle. Atlas. You need testimonies, witnesses, we’re there for you. But Franks is a different prospect entirely. He threatened to kill my kids. He threatened to kill them as he was butchering my wife. Franks doesn’t get to buy his way out of this.” Atlas nodded “Agreed.”

slowly,

holding

Blue’s

gaze.

“I swear…Romy, my family, your family…I’ll do

whatever it takes to make them safe. Whatever it takes.” Blue could see Atlas followed his deeper meaning as the other man, his eyes dangerous, nodded.” “Oh yes,” Atlas said in a low voice. “Whatever it takes.”

Chapter Seventeen Ebony felt Atlas slip his arms around her waist as he got into bed beside her and she turned, smiling at him. “Strange day.” “Very.” He pressed his lips against hers, kissing her tenderly, and then sighed, burying his face in her hair. “Today, I got so excited about the baby, and yet when we were looking at the scan, I thought – how can this baby not be mine? I feel like it is and yet I also feel strange saying that. I’m rambling, I have no idea what I’m talking about,” he added with a laugh and Ebony chuckled. “Yes, you are, but I get it. Atlas, I wish with every cell in my body that it was your child growing inside me. Today was a wake-up call. I really do know nothing about the child and maybe…maybe I should try and find the father.” She looked at him with worried eyes and saw the slight hurt in them.

“Atlas, I love you, as far as I’m concerned, you, me and the baby are a family. Don’t you think though it would be better to know? Isn’t that what Mateo discovered when he found out about Fino?” Atlas sighed and closed his eyes, pain flashing across his face. “Of course, I know you’re right. We should try to find out who the father is and give him the chance to be involved.” He grinned at her sheepishly. “But I really hope he doesn’t want you back.” “Ha, first, he never had me, so to speak, and secondly, no one could take me away from you, Mr. Tigri. Despite everything that’s happened, loving you and this baby are the only things I know I’m sure of.” “Good.” He took her hand and kissed the top of her fingers in turn. “So, if I asked you to marry me, that wouldn’t be too fast?” The breath caught in Ebony’s throat. Marriage? Now? Soon she realized her hesitation had grown to more than was appropriate and that the hurt was back in Atlas’s eyes. “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer that question. Forget it.” Ebony crushed her lips against his. “Atlas, you are

my everything. I just think we should slow down, take things one-by-one. You ask me that question a year from now? I promise I’ll say yes.” Atlas half-smiled. “I told you, I’m impetuous. You’re right, of course. Again.” She stroked his face, lightly scratching at his dark stubble and kissing him softly. “I love you so much.” Much as she would have loved to make love with him, she was as exhausted from the day’s events as was he. They wrapped around one another and were soon fast asleep.

L ATER , when Atlas was still asleep, Ebony woke with a dry throat and got up to get some water. As she padded down to the kitchen, she stopped and listened. She could hear crying. Worried in case it was Fino, she followed the sound of it until she heard a young woman’s voice. Bella. Bella was crying as she talked to someone. Ebony inched closer to the door, raising her hand to knock when she heard Bella groan. “No, you can’t…no, that’s not fair, it isn’t right. But…I cannot believe you’re going to do this. No…no…I won’t. No, fuck you.”

Ebony heard the splintering of glass against a wall and guessed Bella had hurled her phone across the room. She knocked tentatively. There was a hesitation then, “Come in.” Ebony pushed opened the door and smiled at Bella. The red-haired girl was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her face tear-stained. She wouldn’t look Ebony in the eye. “Are you okay, pumpkin?” Ebony went to sit by her and Bella shrugged. “Just my mom being my mom.” Ebony peeked over at the smashed iPhone on the floor. “Being extra-Mom, I would say.” Bella half-smiled. “She just gets to me.” “Want to talk about it?” Bella shook her head. “But thanks.” “Anytime.” Ebony got up and went to the door before Bella called her back. “Ebony…just…be careful. People aren’t who they say they are.” Ebony frowned. “Who do you mean?” “No one in particular. Just…be careful.”

sometimes

Ebony went back to bed after looking in on a sleeping Fino. The boy had lost weight and looked so tiny and vulnerable in his bed that Ebony wanted to cuddle him, wanted to promise him that nothing bad would ever happen again. Of course, she couldn’t promise that, couldn’t bring Mateo back for his son. As she crawled back into the warmth of Atlas’s arms, she couldn’t help thinking about that terrible day. Mateo, his handsome face not comprehending at first what had happened, then understanding and grief for his son. His last thought had been for Fino, Ebony knew, and suddenly she was crying, trying not to wake Atlas, but she couldn’t stop the tears. When she felt his lips against her forehead, and his arms tightened around her, she let go, sobbing out her grief. As her sobs subsided, she looked up at Atlas, her eyes determined. “Atlas, ask me that question again. Ask me now.” Atlas looked confused. “Which one?” Ebony smiled, but her face set with resolution. “Yes, Atlas Tigri, I will marry you. I will marry you because I love you now and one year from now nothing will have changed in that respect. I will marry you and and together we will fight for Fino, fight for our children. No one else is going to hurt

this family again, do you understand me? No one.” Gathering her into his arms, Atlas’ kiss said everything his heart was too full to reply.

CHAP TER E IG HTEEN Gracie Allende plucked her twin siblings away from their mother’s abdomen. “What did I tell you?” She said to them primly, and Romy had to hide a smile. Gracie patted the twins on the head gently. “You can’t crawl on Momma’s tummy. It’s sick, and we have to be careful.” Gracie looked at her mother with wide, green eyes. “That’s right, isn’t it, Momma?” “It is petal, just for now. Just until I feel better. Then all five of us are going to go have fun. Daddy’s already talking about going somewhere hot for a vacation…maybe somewhere you would like…maybe somewhere with a fairytale castle?” Romy laughed as Gracie whooped. All the money in the world, Romy thought fondly, and all my daughter wants to do is go visit Mickey Mouse. Gracie frowned at her. “Do you think the castle has a library?” “A library?” Romy asked in confusion, aware her

young daughter loved to read but still not connecting that with Disney. “Beauty and the Beast,” Juno stuck her head around the door and grinned at her sister. “Come on, Romulus, keep up.” Gracie giggled at her mother’s nickname, and Romy rolled her eyes. “Hey, twins, you can’t crawl on Mommy, but Aunt Juno loves it.” She grinned at her sister’s expression as Gracie, taking her mother’s joke and running with it, handed Juno the twins. Rosa immediately spit up on Juno’s sweater, grinning widely afterward as if she’d achieved something spectacular. Blue followed his sister-in-law into the room, and Romy saw in his eyes that he had something to talk to her about. “Hey, Gracie boo, why don’t you go help Juno clean up, then she might take you all for some hot chocolate?” Juno, taking the hint, nodded, and bore the children out of the room. Blue closed the door behind them then came to sit by Romy. He leaned over to kiss her. “Hey, Piccolo.” “Hey, gorgeous.” She stroked his face. “You look tired.” “It seems to be my default position these days, so

I’m used to it. Don’t worry about me, Piccolo.” “Not an option,” she said and pulled his face closer to kiss him. “I love you, big guy.” Blue sighed and leaned his head against hers. “I love you too, baby, which is going to make what I have to tell you harder.” Romy searched his eyes. “Franks?” Blue nodded. “He’s in the wind. Atlas and I have people searching for him, but for now, you’ll notice extra security around.” “As long as the kids and you are safe, that’s all I care about.” Romy shifted and winced as her torn stomach muscles pulled painfully. Blue placed his hand gently on her belly. “God, Romy…I swore I’d never let anyone hurt you again after Gaius…” “This wasn’t your fault. It was the act of a mad man, Blue, and that’s all it was. Working at Haven, we’ve seen the results of a twisted mind so, so many times, Blue, we should have suspected something might happen like this.” Blue closed his eyes. “I know it’s wrong, but the thought of you going back to work there…” “But, don’t you see, this is exactly why I have to

go back to Haven. They don’t get to win.” Blue stared at her with unhappy eyes but nodded. “You’re my heroine.” “Ha,” Romy grinned at her husband. “Well, the second I’m better, you can show me just how much you admire me, all night, every night.” Blue chuckled. “That, my love, is a guarantee. Sexy woman.” “Yeah, real sexy in my sweaty nightgown and with greasy hair. I would kill for a shower.” “Might be a little while before that happens, baby.” He touched her thighs. “How are the pins-andneedles?” “Still there but less, I think. At least I can move my legs. I got lucky.” Romy regretted her words as soon as she saw the pain on Blue’s face. “Lucky,” he choked out and struggled to contain his emotion. Romy tangled her fingers in his black curls and drew him down to her. “I misspoke,” she murmured, her lips against his, “I just mean…I’m still here. I’m still with you.” “You always will be,” he rasped, framing her face with his hands. “I’ll never let you out of my sight after this, my love, my life.”

E BONY COULDN ’ T HELP but tremble as she held onto her brother’s arm. Obe steadied her and made her look at him. “You don’t have to do this, Ebs. We can go into that courtroom and tell Atlas it’s too soon, or you’re not ready. Just say the word.” They were standing out in the hallway at City Hall and, in a few moments, Ebony would join Atlas in front of the judge, and they would be married. She sucked in a deep breath and glared at her brother. “I am ready, Mr-I-Got-Married-After-ThreeWeeks.” Obe grinned, shrugging good-naturedly. “Just checking, sis. I couldn’t be happier for you, I just want to make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons. Having a child out of wedlock is no problem in this day and age.” “It’s not because of that,” Ebony felt guilty that she and Atlas hadn’t told anyone that the baby wasn’t his, “it’s because we love each other, and providing a solid family for Fino will help us in the court case. All the right reasons.” “Then all power to you both. You ready?” Ebony nodded, and they walked together to the courtroom. Ebony smoothed her dress down over

her knees, a simple but elegant cream tea-dress which brought out the gold tones in her skin. A single scarlet hibiscus was placed behind her ear, and she carried no bouquet. Atlas, glorious in a dark blue tailored suit, smiled widely as he saw her walking to him. As she reached him, he shook Obe’s hand and bent to kiss his fiancée’s cheek. “You look sensational, baby.” The navy blue of the suit made his dark hair and light green eyes even more startling and Ebony sighed over his sheer physical beauty. This god-like man was about to be her husband, and she could barely believe it. Fino, giving her a genuinely happy smile for the first time in weeks, stood next to Atlas as his best man. Ebony bent to kiss the boy’s cheek. “Handsome boy.” The wedding vows were over in a flash it seemed to her, but she didn’t care, Atlas was kissing her with so much adoration, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she’d made the right decision. She gazed up at her new husband when they came up for air. “Our family,” was all she said and Atlas, smiling, nodded. “It’s everything to me.”

JUNO , Obe, Bella, and Fino joined them for a celebratory lunch. Stanley, still in New York, had sent his best wishes, and Blue and Romy had called Ebony that morning. Ebony sat next to Atlas, his arm locked around her, both unable to stop smiling at each other. “Atlas, Fino…I wanted to share this with you,” she said, “but I thought I would wait until now, in case either of you found this upsetting.” She opened the locket on her necklace and showed them both the picture of Mateo she had placed in it. “I wanted your father, your brother to be a part of our day. He will always be with us, Fino, and if we are lucky enough to become your adoptive parents, we will never seek to replace him, but carry on the fantastic way he was bringing you up.” Fino nodded, his eyes filling with tears and he launched himself at Ebony and hugged her tightly. Atlas smiled at her, his gorgeous eyes shining at her. “Perfect, baby. Thank you.” “Oh!” Bella exclaimed loudly, making everyone start. “Sorry,” she grinned sheepishly, “it’s just I made some handmade confetti at home, and of course, I forgot it.” Ebony laughed. “We can use it for something else,

don’t worry.” A movement across the restaurant caught her eye. One of their huge security guys talking into his phone. Atlas’s attention was caught too. “Say, how about we take this party home?” He asked the question lightly, but they were all alerted to the fact that even on such a happy day, they were all still in danger. As they got up to leave, a commotion began with one of the guards and a sharply-dressed man. “I have to bring this to Ms. Verlaine.” He was waving an envelope, but the bodyguard wouldn’t let him near her. He frisked the man then looked at Atlas who nodded. The newcomer, looking annoyed, walked over to them. “Miss Verlaine.” “Mrs. Tigri now,” Ebony said coldly, “but yes, that’s me.” The man handed her the envelope. “Congratulations, both on your marriage, and the fact that you’ve been served. Have a lovely day.” He left the party stunned and walked out of the restaurant, throwing a glare over to the bodyguard. Ebony opened the envelope and read the letter. “What the hell?”

“What is it, baby?” Ebony looked up at Atlas, confused. “It’s Cormac. He’s demanding a paternity test.” “For Fino?” She shook her head. “No…for the baby. He thinks you’re not the father.” Atlas stared at Ebony, and they shared the same sense of impending dread. How the hell did Cormac know…and what would he do when he found out he was right?

Chapter Nineteen “Can he make me do this?” Ebony asked her lawyer, her voice trembling. “If he can prove to us that he has a good reason for thinking Atlas isn’t the father. He may be attempting to prove that you are an opportunist, that you are claiming Mr. Tigri is the father to fool the court into thinking you are a family, that living with you would be the best for Fino.” “Fuck.” Atlas spat and stood, pacing behind Ebony’s chair. “Ebony is no gold-digger, and as far as I’m concerned, that is our child growing inside her. How the fuck did Cormac even suspect?”

Ebony groaned. “He must have been listening when I had the scan at the hospital. Shit, why didn’t that even cross my mind?” “It’s not your fault, darling. Damn it, he’ll stoop to anything.” “Well, we have a preliminary hearing to ascertain whether he can force you to do this. I seriously doubt the judge will grant it, but we have to go through the motions. If you are willing to attend the hearing, it’ll look good for you. Cooperating, showing you have nothing to hide. These things will strengthen our case.”

THE DAY of the hearing was less than a week later. Ebony, hampered by morning sickness, held Atlas’s hand as Cormac’s lawyer outlined his request for Ebony to take a paternity test. Ebony was cheered by the skeptical look on the judge’s face, and when he stopped the lawyer, her heart soared. He’s going to shut this down… “If I might ask Mr. Duggan directly,” the judge said, his tone even, “Mr. Duggan, why on Earth would Mrs. Tigri’s child have any bearing on this case? It seems to be a left-field attempt by you to embarrass a young mother-to-be for no other reason than spite. Could you clarify your reasons?”

Cormac stood. “Of course, Your Honor. I can assure you there is no malice on my part. I’m just seeking to find out the paternity of the child.” “For what reason?” Atlas made a disgusted noise, but as Cormac turned to face them, Ebony saw something else in Cormac’s eyes. Triumph. “Because, Your Honor, I have very, very good reason to believe that the child Mrs. Tigri is carrying…is mine.” Ebony gasped, and Cormac smiled. “That’s right, Ebony. Don’t you remember our little tryst, almost two months ago now? In New Orleans? In that… specialist club, for want of a better description? You and I made love, and now I believe that is my child growing in your belly.” “You’re lying,” Ebony managed to gasp out as Atlas got to his feet, enraged. “Oh, I think you know I’m telling the truth, Ebony. Atlas, you have to come to terms with the fact… you married a whore.” Cormac smiled, knowing exactly what Atlas would do next…and Atlas didn’t disappoint him, throwing himself at Cormac. The court was in an uproar, the security teams dragging Atlas off of Cormac.

Ebony reached out for Atlas, but he wrenched himself from her grip. “Don’t touch me,” he spat at her. “Don’t ever come near me again…you just lost me, my nephew…I never want to see you again…” His eyes were wild, his face contorted with rage. The shock was so powerful that she stopped still for a moment. Then Ebony reeled away and walked out of the court room, too numb to run, walked blindly through the halls, past curious onlookers, out of the building into the pouring rain. Deranged with grief and guilt, she kept walking through the downpour. And through it all, the realization replayed itself over and over in her mind. Cormac Duggan was the father of her child, she knew it in her bones, and Atlas would never forgive her. She had lost everything…

STANLEY DUGGAN KISSED his step-daughter as he strode back into the mansion. “Where is he?” “Upstairs. He’s…broken, Dad. That’s the only way I can describe it.” Bella sighed and hugged her arms around her slender body. “We can’t find Ebony anywhere. She gave her protection the slip and disappeared into the city. Juno and Obe are out

looking for her.” “What about Fino? Is he here?” “He is, but he knows something is wrong. He keeps asking for Ebony…I don’t know what to tell him.” Stanley sighed. “Maybe you should take him out, distract him.” “I thought of that too. We could go to the Aquarium, I know he likes it there.” Stanley smiled at her. “Your mother decided to stay in New York for a while, Bella.” “Thank god.” Stan chuckled, hugging her. “Families are rarely, if ever, uncomplicated, Bella dear. Your mother loves you in the only way she knows how to.” Bella rolled her eyes. “Go see Atlas, Dad. I’ll take Fino out.” “Good girl.”

ATLAS WAS STARING out of the window in his bedroom as Stanley entered his room. “If you’re here to lecture me about responsibilities, I wouldn’t,” Atlas warned as he saw Stanley.

Stanley sighed. “I’m not here to lecture anyone about anything, son.” He sat on the end of Atlas’s bed and ran a hand over his balding head. “But there’s a young woman out there, scared, distressed, and pregnant.” “It’s not my child.” “I understood you knew that from the beginning. So why does it make a difference that it’s possibly Cormac’s child?” Atlas looked at Stanley for a long moment. “For the life of me, I will never understand how you could have produced a son like Cormac. He’s petty, vindictive…and he’s taken everything away from me. Do you think the courts will grant me custody now? He knew exactly what he was doing, he knew I’d attack him.” “I’ll ask again…so it’s his child. I take it Ebony didn’t know?” Atlas hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t know who I can trust anymore.” “I do.” Stanley stood and put his hand on his stepson's shoulder. “You can trust the woman who supported us all when your brother was murdered. The woman who sat up all night with Fino, holding him, talking to him, trying to help him process his

father’s death. The woman who changed her entire life to suit you. The woman who put up with your desperate urges when you were trying to bury your grief,” Stanley said pointedly, making sure Atlas was clear on the fact that his behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed. “The woman who wore a locket with your brother’s photo to her wedding so he could be part of your day – yes, Bella told me.” Atlas’s face set in a neutral expression and Stanley watched him, unable to read his mood. “Ebony Verlaine loves you, Atlas. She loves Fino, Bella, even me and Vida. She came into our lives when we didn’t even know we needed her. Can you imagine our lives without her now?” There was a long silence, then “No.” “Neither can I. Come on, let’s go downstairs and discuss how we can find her. Because this behavior, son, is not a man’s. And it is not yours.”

B ELLA PARKED the car in the parking lot of the diner and got out. Fino, tugging his coat over his head, looked confused. “This isn’t our usual place.” Nervously, Bella pulled him toward her. “No. I thought we’d try somewhere new. It’s okay,” she said to the security guard with them, “you can wait

here.” The bodyguard looked skeptical. “My orders were to…” “And I’m telling you, you can wait here.” Bella glared at him, then taking Fino’s hand, they walked into the diner. Fino was immediately wowed by the retro look of the diner. “This is so cool.” “Well, let’s find a table, and we’ll order some food, hey, sport?” Bella smiled at him, even though her heart was thumping wildly. This was the plan. Get the boy to the diner, get him into the bathrooms… Bella swallowed hard. Why am I doing this? Her hands felt slippery with sweat, but then, as Fino cried out, she felt a jolt of shock. “Ebony!” Bella whirled around to see Fino run into Ebony’s arms as the other woman slid from her seat, hidden in the corner, to greet the boy. Ebony looked tired and somewhat bedraggled, and Bella felt a pang of guilt, but then realized this was even better. She had a scapegoat. She greeted Ebony with a hug. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

Ebony seemed close to tears. “I didn’t know where to go, what to do. He hates me, Atlas hates me.” “No.” Bella made her sit down, an anxious Fino snuggled in next to Ebony. “Look, let me get you some hot coffee…Fino, do you need to use the bathroom?” He nodded. Ebony took his hand. “I’ll take him.” Good, this was good…except… What would he do to Ebony? The man who wanted Fino, the man who was blackmailing her. Him. Would he kill Ebony? Bella’s hands bunched up into fists, but she made herself nod and turn away as the two of them went back toward the bathrooms. She leaned over to the waitress. “May we have two coffees, please?” “Of course, coming right up.” Bella heard the door open and saw her bodyguard walking towards her. “Sorry, Miss, I just checked with Mr. Tigri. He doesn’t want any of you alone.” He looked around. “Where’s Mr. Tigri Junior?” “In the bathroom,” she said casually. “We ran into Mrs. Tigri. They’re both in there.” The waitress brought coffee, and with a shaking hand, Bella sipped it. There was no noise, no

commotion from the bathrooms – but neither did either Ebony or Fino emerge. After a few minutes, the bodyguard stalked over to the doors. Bella stood, feigning surprise as he came out, barking instructions into his phone. “What is it? What’s wrong?” The bodyguard stared at her, his eyes trying to read hers. “There’s blood in the bathroom, but no sign of Fino or Ebony. They’ve been taken. They’re gone.”

Chapter Twenty “What the fuck do you mean ‘gone’? How the hell did you let this happen?” At some point, very long ago, it seemed, Atlas had been a gentle man. Now all he did was rage, and rage he was now, at the bodyguard, who glanced at Bella. She looked away from him. “I’m sorry, sir, I let them out of my sight for a few minutes.” Atlas rubbed his face and turned away, fists clenched. It was obvious to anyone present who knew him that he was angriest at himself for how he’d treated his brand-new wife. How could I have treated her that way? What the fuck is wrong with me?

Terror clogged his chest as he avoided thinking that he might not get her back. That thought had to be avoided at all costs, or he wouldn’t survive long enough to bring his wife home—his wife and nephew—and spend the rest of his life apologizing. Stanley cleared his throat. “Look, the police are on their way…I think we know who’s behind this.” “Carson Franks,” Atlas said with a groan. “God, how? How the hell did he know where they were? And how did Ebony come to be at the same diner? Jesus…” Bella looked miserable. “I’m sorry, Atlas.” He didn’t answer her. Stanley patted his daughter on the back. “Go make some coffee for us, would you, dear?” Bella disappeared from the room. The bodyguard cleared his throat. “Sir, Mr. Duggan, I think you should both know that Miss Duggan insisted on going into the diner alone. This is not to tell tales or shift blame – it’s entirely my responsibility, but she was quite insistent.” “Bella wouldn’t have deliberately put them in harm’s way,” Stanley said, but Atlas could hear the doubt in his voice. “Why would she do this? No, I don’t believe Bella

had anything to do with this, she adores Fino and Ebony.” Stanley’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you, Atlas. Thank you for saying it. But it doesn’t answer how the hell Franks knew they were there.” “Carson Franks has unlimited funds,” Atlas pointed out tersely. “He’s probably had us all followed. Maybe when Ebony took off from the courthouse, he saw his chance.” “What does he want with them? He can’t be holding them for ransom.” “Not monetary, but he’ll use them to leverage an escape route, passage out of the country. He knows he’s finished here, that if he’s caught, he’ll spend the rest of his days on Death Row. Shit, I’d better call Blue, let him know what’s happening.” “First,” came an angry voice from the doorway, “you can tell me what the fuck is going on – and where my nephew and the mother of my child are.” Atlas looked at the anger, the fear on the face of his much-loathed stepbrother, and received the second shock of the day. This one was oddly more pleasant as he realized that, for once, he and his brother were united in wanting the same thing: Ebony and Fino back home, safe and unharmed.

“N O . OH , GOD .” Romy looked shocked to the bone as Blue told her about the abduction. “Blue, he’s a psycho, he likes to kill women. He’ll murder Ebony whether she tells him she’s pregnant or not. And Fino…god, that poor child.” She hugged Gracie to her harder, and her daughter clung to her. “Don’t cry, Momma. The policemen will find Ebony and Fino.” Romy closed her eyes and sighed, leaning her face against her daughter’s soft curls. “Of course they will, pumpkin. Thank you.” “I shouldn’t have told you in front of…” Blue look apologetic, nodding at his daughter. “It was just such a shock. Look, you are safe here. The kids are safe. Your family is safe – Stuart’s arranged for protection for everyone, and the hospital is on top alert.” He sighed. “God, I just want this over, and I feel helpless to do anything.” “You’re doing what you can, baby. I just pray the police find Ebony and Fino soon.” Blue leaned over to kiss her. “I’m going to call Atlas now. You’re okay for now?” “Perfectly,” she smiled up at him. “I’ve got my

little bodyguard here.” Gracie giggled as her mother tickled her and Blue smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

B LUE HEARD the pain in Atlas’s voice, and his heart went out to the other man, knowing how he would be kicking himself around the block endlessly. “Anything, anything I can do, just ask. No matter the cost, no matter what, remember?” “Thanks, Blue.” Atlas lowered his voice. “Cormac’s here and I don’t have the heart to throw him out. He’s beside himself. I’ve never seen him so … human.” “Maybe something like this puts it all into perspective.” “Maybe so. Blue—” “Don’t,” Blue cut in. “What you did was unacceptable, yes, but not unforgivable. You’ll find them both, Atlas, and you’ll make it up to them. Especially to your wife.” “What was I thinking?” Atlas whispered. “That wasn’t me in that courtyard. Blue, I would never—”

“You weren’t thinking,” Blue replied bluntly. “You’ve fallen down a rabbit hole of despair ever since Mateo’s death and it’s time to climb out, Atlas. Your living family needs you, my friend.” There was a long silence before Atlas cleared his throat. “I’m climbing,” he rasped. “But I haven’t heard from Franks yet…the police say I should expect a call from him. I just want him to give Ebony and Fino back, I don’t care if he escapes.” “Yes, you do,” Blue said, a little anger creeping into his voice. “Because this won’t be the end of it. He stabbed my wife, threatened my kids and your family too. He murdered your brother. He doesn’t get a free pass.” “I agree,” Atlas sounded exhausted, “but I just don’t know what to do. And there’s something else…I think Bella might be involved.” That shocked Blue to his core. “No. No way, Atlas. Bella adores Fino; she’d never put him in danger.” “We’ll see. Look, I have to go, wait for this call. Is Romy okay? Are your kids safe?” “Yes, all good, don’t worry about us. But you need anything, call me, man. I got your back.” “Thanks, brother. Talk to you later.”

B LUE ENDED the call then leaned back against the wall, exhausted. One man, responsible for all of this horror. Blue knew that if Carson Franks stood before him now, he would have no problem ending the other man’s life. He almost wanted Franks to show up to the hospital so that he, Blue, could punish him for what he’d done to Romy, to Mateo. And yet, he’d just cautioned Atlas from letting himself be consumed by anger, so he had to follow his own advice. Blue sighed and pushed away from the wall, heading back into the room where his family was, thankfully, safe.

SHE WAS certain it was a dream…or a nightmare, to be perfectly correct. She was tied to a huge pipe, sitting on cold, hard concrete, her clothes soaking wet, her head pounding with agony. She opened her eyes and saw the giggling man, his face contorted by malevolence, a vicious looking knife in his hand. Please don’t kill me, don’t kill my baby… Ebony fought the need to pass out again. She could feel a little body wedged next to hers, hear his soft cries. “Shut up, kid, or I’ll stick a knife in your momma.”

Momma? Was he talking about her? “Ebony? Ebony?” She recognized that sweet voice... “Fino?” She heard his sigh of relief. “Ebony, are you okay?” “I am, sport.” At least her mouth still worked, even if her head felt split in half and her voice sounded funny. “Where are we?” “I don’t know.” She opened her eyes wider, fighting the dark spots at the corner of her eyes. Fino, his big eyes wide and frightened, was curled next to her, his arms locked around her waist. Their kidnapper, a blandly handsome man, was watching them. Carson Franks. It had to be. He smiled at her. “Welcome back, Mrs. Tigri. It’s nice to meet you at last.” “Let Fino go,” Ebony said immediately. “Take me, but let him go.” Franks rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because you’re the one in charge here, beautiful.” He suddenly scooted down next to them. “Listen here. The brat’s father is going to arrange a private plane for me, then I’ll let him go. You, on the other hand…well, I need some sport. This,” he showed them a knife, “hasn’t

had a workout since the pretty doctor. I’ll leave your body on Tigri’s plane to find.” “No!” Fino screamed at him. “No, don’t hurt her. She’s having a baby.” Franks smirked. “I really don’t give a crap, boy. And scream at me like that again, and I’ll cut your tongue out.” Fino cringed against Ebony, and she wrapped her arms around him. “You fuck,” she snarled at Franks, “you pathetic little fuck. Spoilt little rich boy. You’ll get yours, Franks, believe me.” Carson Franks’ face contorted in rage, and he grabbed her face, his finger biting deep into her cheeks painfully. Ebony winced as Carson crushed his mouth against hers. She bit down on his bottom lip, then cried out in pain as he slashed at her side with the knife. Ebony felt the steel slice through her skin. “Flesh wound, beautiful,” he snarled, “next time it goes in your belly…the whole way.” He got up and left them in the small room, slamming the door behind him. Ebony tried not to whimper, and Fino, tugging off his sweater, pressed it again the flesh wound on her side. She smiled at him gratefully. “It’s just a scratch, sweetheart.”

He clung to her. “I love you, Ebony.” “I love you too, big guy. We’re going to get out of here, I promise.” At least you are, my precious little one, she thought to herself. That’s all she could worry about now – get Fino safely away from the psychotic Franks. The room they were in was small and damp, with a window high up on the wall. Standing on her shoulders, Fino could reach it, but even from here, she could see it was locked. Maybe if they could break the glass… The door opened, and someone new came in: a young, nervous looking boy, carrying a tray of sandwiches and water bottles. He set the tray on the ground and slid it over to them. “Boss says eat and drink.” Ebony nodded, giving him a half-smile. “Thank you. Could you possibly open that window, let some air in? It’s very dank in here.” Okay, so it was worth a shot, but the boy just shook his head. “Sorry.” He disappeared, and Ebony heard the door lock behind him. “Fino, eat a sandwich, please.” “Only if you will too.”

“I’ll try.” The truth was she felt sick to her stomach. Back at the diner, when they had been taken, a cloth with chemicals on had been placed over her face, and she’d blacked out. She could still taste the acrid flavor of them now, and her stomach roiled. That, and the pain of the small wound, was making her feel as if she would be sick. She took a couple of unenthusiastic bites of the sandwich and some of the water, then feeling a little better, finished the sandwich. It became obvious all too soon that the food or water had been drugged as first Fino, then Ebony, passed out.

C ARSON FRANKS LOOKED over the unconscious pair and grinned. “Time to call Tigri, I think, see how much he’ll give me to get his wife and nephew back.” The other man, the young boy, Rex, nodded. “So, you are going to give them both back?” Carson laughed. “Not a chance. Oh, the boy, I don’t care about. We’ll dump his body in the ocean, but the girl…she’s all mine…and her body, we’ll send back to Tigri just so he knows that you never

ever mess with Carson Franks…”

Part Four

Chapter Twenty-One John Halsey stood up from the chair in his office and looked at the three men. “You understand me, don’t you? No heroics, no going off on vigilante missions. Let us handle this, or you risk everything.” The three men stared back at him. Atlas Tigri, Blue Allende – and their unlikely comrade in this, Cormac Duggan – all wore the same expression: Skepticism. John Halsey sighed. “Look, I realize men in your position believe that money can solve all woes – it can’t. You give Franks an inch, and you’ll never see Fino or Ebony again.” “All we care about is getting Ebony and Fino back safely,” Atlas said, but even to his ear, he knew it was more than that. All of them in this room wanted nothing more than to rip Carson Franks

limb-from-limb with their bare hands, and Halsey could see he wasn’t getting through to them. “Alright, just promise me this…you won’t impede our investigation, you tell me everything.” He fixed them with a hard stare. “Regardless of circumstances, if you get in our way, I will arrest you for obstruction. No taking justice into your own hands.” “Detective, we are men of the world,” Blue said, a little testily, “and we have the resources to search every inch of it…which is what we are doing.” “And that’s fine. Just don’t take unnecessary risks, is all I ask.” “None of us are amateurs, Detective.” Cormac Duggan was the most arrogant of the three, Halsey decided, and the most irritating. He could feel for Tigri and Allende; they’d been through hell. But this man… “Mr. Duggan, I understand why Mr. Tigri and Dr. Allende are here – why are you?” There was a long silence, Duggan glancing at Atlas, then Atlas sighed. “Because he’s the father of Ebony’s baby, and he’s also suing me for custody of Fino.” He recited all of this in a dead voice, and Cormac had the grace to look slightly ashamed.

“All I care about right now,” he said softly, speaking directly to Atlas, “is that we get them back safe and well. Anything else…can wait. We can resume our usual feud when they’re back safe and sound.” Atlas studied him for a long moment, then nodded curtly. John Halsey sighed and nodded at the door, indicating the meeting was at an end. “I’ll keep you informed, gentlemen. Remember what I said.”

OUTSIDE THE OFFICE, Cormac turned to them. “I’ll be in touch as soon as my men find anything. Can I ask you do the same?” “Sure.” Atlas nodded. “Come by the house later if you can. We should all be together.” Atlas couldn’t quite believe he was saying it, but there it was. He wanted his brother desperately right now, wanted to feel that comfort, and in Mateo’s absence, he would take even Cormac. And he had to be fair – it was Cormac’s child Ebony was carrying. After Atlas had lost it in the courtroom, he’d calmed down enough to hear Cormac’s lawyer explain the circumstances of the

conception and the dates, and facts, matched up. Stanley had talked to him when he’d gotten home after hours of searching Seattle’s streets for his wife. And now she’s gone, and the last words I spoke to her were angry and insulting. God, Ebony, I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you somehow, baby. I swear. Just be okay. Atlas drove home now, to an empty house. He went to Bella’s room but found no one. He sighed. Bella had fucked up for sure, but he couldn’t believe she had done it out of malice. His cell phone rang, and when he answered it, it was Carson Franks, telling him exactly what he would have to do to save the lives of the two people he loved most in the world.

E BONY, realizing that Carson was keeping them drugged to prevent them from escaping, figured it must mean they were still near civilization. Drugging them would keep them from screaming or figuring out an escape route. She began hiding her food, instructing Fino to only eat the sides of the sandwiches and take tiny sips of water. “We have to pretend we’re asleep, darling, so they

think they’re safe to talk about stuff we’re not supposed to hear. Maybe they’ll say something we can use to escape.” She couldn’t think of any other way to explain what was happening to them. Luckily, the small bites they took didn’t seem to be adulterated. When Rex came in next, late at night, Ebony had her body curled around Fino’s, protectively, as she always did, and pretended to be unconscious. She became aware that someone else was in the room with Rex when he said: “We keep them warm and fed, don’t worry.” “Are they hurt?” A shock ran through Ebony, and she clamped her hand discreetly over Fino’s mouth as she felt him jerk in surprise. Bella. It was Bella’s voice. She wanted to scream, to go for the girl, to beg her to tell her why she had betrayed them so utterly. A tear rolled down her cheek and Ebony struggled to keep up her façade of unconsciousness. “They look cold.” Bella’s voice shook, and Rex sighed. “I’ll get them blankets, but look, come on, if

Cormac knew you were back here, he’d kill me.” There was a silence and Ebony risked opening her eyes a crack. She saw Bella staring down at them, tears pouring down her face. “Look, Rex, let them go. I should never have agreed to do this. Take me instead.” “Ha.” Rex gave a snort. “You did it to protect your own skin so they’d never find out it was you who let that shooter in.” “I didn’t know what he was going to do! He killed Mateo…” Bella began to sob. “Please let them go. I’ll get you money, enough to get away, live a life of luxury. Please, just, let’s get them away from Carson.” “No. Come on, get out of here before I kill you myself. You did this. Bella, remember that.” “Wait. Just let me hug them one last time.” Before Rex could stop her, Bella dropped to her knees and put her arms around Ebony and Fino. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Ebony, shielded from Rex’s view, opened her eyes and met Bella’s gaze. “Run,” she whispered, “get help, Bella. If you want to make up for this, save us. Save Fino at least.”

Bella squeezed her eyes shut, disguising her nod as a sob, then let them go. She stood, wiping her tears away, and Ebony watched as she and Rex left the room. She let out a long breath and was about to tell Fino it was okay when she heard the gunshots. Oh god, no… A second later, her worst fears were confirmed when Carson burst into the room, his face red and angry. “Fucking bitch!” Ebony somehow knew he wasn’t talking about her, but it didn’t stop Carson from handling her roughly, cutting her ties and pulling her and Fino to their feet. The gun in his hand meant Ebony wasn’t going to risk fighting him. If he had just killed Rex and, oh god no, Bella, then he would have no reluctance in killing both of them. Carson pressed the gun against Ebony’s neck and stared at Fino. “One false move, kid, and I kill her, understood?” Fino, terrified, could only nod. Carson dragged Ebony out of the small cell and along a musty corridor. At the end, Ebony saw Rex’s body, half of his head missing, and pulled Fino against her belly so he couldn’t see. As Carson yanked her arm, she glanced to her left and saw Bella, laying on her

back, her hands clamped over her stomach, coughing up blood. For a brief second, their eyes met, and Bella mouthed “I’m sorry” then went still, her eyes staring blankly. Ebony fought back a wave of nausea mixed with grief and terror. As Carson pulled them out into the daylight, both Ebony and Fino cringed, their eyes stinging. “Get in the car. You, beautiful, in the front with me. The kid rides in the trunk.” “No, please, don’t put him in the…please, he’ll be scared.” “I don’t give a fuck.” Carson picked Fino up with one arm and popped the trunk, shoving the terrified boy and shutting him in. Ebony heard Fino screaming. “Fino, baby, don’t be scared,” she shouted. “ I’ll be right here, right here…” Carson smirked. “He won’t be scared long.” He forced Ebony into the passenger seat and got in, not bothering to help buckle her in. Now that she was getting used to the light, she could see they were outside the city, a deserted farmhouse down a long dirt track. As Carson sped along the roadway, he was driving with one hand, the other aiming the gun at Ebony, she saw something out of the corner

of her eye, and as the car hit the main highway, a dark sedan sideswiped them. The last thing Ebony remembered was the car rolling, smashing into a tree, and then in the seconds before she passed out, she heard Fino screaming once more, this time in what sounded like agony …

Chapter Twenty-Two John Halsey delivered the news without sugarcoating. “They’ve been found. They were in a car accident and the driver who hit them called 911. It doesn’t look good, gentlemen. You’re gonna want to hurry to the hospital.” Atlas wanted to drive fast, he wanted to go 150 miles per hour. But getting himself killed wouldn’t help Fino or Ebony, and he’d vowed to protect them from here on out. I’m coming, he whispered as he fought the urge over and over to run red lights and stop signs, his knuckles the color of chalk on the steering wheel. Wait for me. Don’t give up, baby. Beside him, by the looks of things, Cormac was every bit as terrified and trying just as hard to hold it together.

As they rounded the corner to the hospital, he spoke suddenly. “Atlas…you and I have never particularly seen eye-to-eye, and I think that’s partially my fault. I don’t give a lot of myself away, and I’ve made mistakes in our relationship…but god, man, I love that boy. I adore him, he’s the son I’ve never had – and thought I never would have. Doctors told me there was very little chance I could conceive a child naturally.” His half-smile was sad. “So, you can see why Ebony’s pregnancy is a big deal for me.” He rubbed his face and to Atlas’ surprise, reached over to grip his shoulder. “Atlas…all I care about now is whether Ebony, Fino and the baby are okay. Everything else can wait until we know they’re safe.” Atlas nodded, his heart in his mouth so he couldn’t speak. They parked and ran into the building at a full sprint. As they waited, John Halsey, who met them in the lobby, told them what happened. “We had our suspicions that Bella was involved, so we had her tailed. She led us right to where Ebony and Fino were being held, but before we could act, Carson shot his accomplice and Bella and took off. That’s when the accident happened – one of our men side-swiped their vehicle by accident when Franks pulled out in front of him.”

Atlas, almost demented with worry, struggled to control himself. “Ebony? Fino?” “Ebony wasn’t buckled in,” Halsey said grimly. “She went through the windshield. We just don’t know the extent of the injuries she received…or the baby. The doctors will be able to tell you more.” Cormac was suddenly there, holding Atlas up with a firm grip on his bicep. “And Fino?” “He was in the trunk,” Halsey replied, waiting until Cormac stopped cussing a blue streak. “He’s shaken up and terrified, but the impact was far enough from him that the paramedics said they think he may only have a concussion.” It was Atlas’ turn to support the man who he’d loathed up until this day. As they sank into nearby chairs, twin expressions of anguish on their faces, Blue jogged into the hospital. He didn’t stop as Atlas and Cormac jumped to their feet. “I’m on my way into surgery,” he called as he shoved open the door to the stairs and vanished inside. His voice floated back before the door closed behind him. “Romy’s there already. I’ll come update you as soon as I can.” They were staring after him when Halsey appeared again. In the overall chaos, they hadn’t even

noticed he’d vanished. “You can come see Fino. They have to do scans, but he checks out as okay enough for relatives.”

TRAUMATIZED AS THE BOY WAS, his head swathed in a bulky bandage, he was admirably composed. Terrifyingly so, Atlas thought as he held Fino close before letting Cormac get in for his own hug. Who knew how many years of therapy it would take to help the kid stop having nightmares about the last month. There were so many questions running through Atlas’ head he didn’t know where to start, afraid of overwhelming his already trembling nephew. So Cormac asked the hardest question. “Did the man hurt you, Fino?” Cormac asked, sitting down on the edge of the hospital bed even though it wasn’t allowed. “We know he put you in the trunk. But did he…touch you or talk to you in a way that made you uncomfortable?” Fino shook his head, thankfully unaware of Cormac’s subtext, and Atlas swallowed a sigh of relief. “He was scary, but he didn’t hurt me. He hurt Ebony…he had a knife, and he cut her. Ebony said it was okay, but she was in pain. There was

blood.” “God…” Atlas felt the blood drain from his face. He had no doubt that had they not found them, Ebony and Fino would be dead right now. Fino reached out his small hand and put it on Atlas’s face. “Don’t cry, Uncle Atlas…Ebony said we were going to be family and I believe her. She’ll be okay.” Even Cormac got teary then, much to Atlas’ astonishment. He got up. “Look, I’m going to go talk to the detective…and then I’m going to call my lawyer. Drop the case. In the end, Fino’s happiness is all I care about.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the cubicle, and Atlas could see the defeated slump of his shoulders. He looked at Fino. “Fino, would you be okay alone for two minutes? I have to ask Cormac something.” Fino looked like he was going to protest but then nodded, laying back on his pillows and closing his eyes. Atlas found a nurse to sit with him then went to find Cormac. Cormac was standing outside, out of the rain under the hospital’s canopy. “Cormac?”

Cormac turned to look at him. Atlas went up to him, then after a second, offered him his hand. Cormac shook it. “Whatever differences we have had in the past, and however strange this set up is…Fino loves you,” Atlas said gruffly. “Ebony is carrying your child, whether I like it or not. So…we have to find a way of working this out.” Cormac nodded. “I agree. Look, here’s the bottom line. A year ago, I was told it was unlikely I would ever have kids. My sperm count is low. I reacted by going a little crazy, going to sex clubs. Ebony…I could tell she was a newbie, so I took care of her in the club…and yes, we made love. I used a condom, but it broke. I swear, I did tell her, but the whole time, she never saw my face. I was wearing,” and he laughed now, “one of those ridiculous masks… hey, I was trying something new, okay?” He added as Atlas smirked. “So, she really, truly never knew it was me. She told you the kid wasn’t yours?” “Yes.” “I respect her for that. Hell, I just respect Ebony – I’m sorry I called her a whore; she’s anything but.” “Tell her that.” “I will, I promise.” Cormac sighed. “So, bottom line, I just want to be involved with my kid’s upbringing, as well as Fino’s. I’ll let you be a

family, Atlas. Just allow me to be part of it. Please.” “No more shady tricks?” “None.” Atlas regarded him for a long time. “When you told me you were the father of Ebony’s child, I just flipped. I felt like everything, everything was being taken away from me. Mateo, Fino, Ebony, the baby…everything.” “I know. I’m sorry.” “I am too. We’ve both screwed up beyond belief, but at least you’re making amends. I haven’t even started yet.” “She’ll forgive you,” Cormac replied. “You were out of your mind for any number of reasons that day. Doesn’t make what you said right, even if I pushed you over the edge. But she’ll forgive you anyway, because she’s that kind of person.” Atlas nodded, shrugging off more chaotic emotions. “And thank you for dropping the case. Fino does belong with Ebony and me - but he needs you too. As for the baby, really, that’s up to Ebony now.” “Agreed.” Cormac rubbed his face. “I wasted so many years hating you and Mateo for what now seems to be completely useless reasons.”

“It’s never too late.” “You’re right.” Cormac clapped Atlas on the back. “Come on, let’s get back to Fino and wait for Blue to update us.”

TWO HOURS LATER , Blue came to find them…and he was smiling.

Chapter Twenty-Three One year later…

R OMY GRINNED as she watched Ebony struggling with a very wriggly five-month-old. Even still tiny, Matilda knew how to twist her mother around her finger. Romy’s own twins, now almost two, were chasing their big sister around with the help of Fino. “Can you manage?” She finally asked Ebony, who rolled her eyes. “Yeah, just about…she’s a little monster.” She blew a raspberry on her daughter’s belly which made her giggle and chirrup. Ebony kissed her soft, downy cheek and hugged Matty to her. “But I do love you,

squishy girl.” She kissed her again, then handed her off, somewhat reluctantly to Cormac, who swung the child up in his arms, the usual look of elation all over his face. There was no question the man was totally besotted. Atlas watched them, smiling. “What a weird family I have,” he said, not for the first time, and laughed as they all groaned. “Every time, you say that.” Ebony touched his cheek, and he pulled her onto his lap, pressing his lips to hers. Their extended family – Atlas and Ebony, Matty and Fino, Cormac and Lydia, Stanley and Vida, plus the Allende’s – were enjoying a late summer barbeque together before Atlas and Ebony flew off for their long-awaited and well deserved honeymoon in the Seychelles. “Two weeks of fucking you is all I want right now,” Atlas murmured softly into Ebony’s ear, and she shivered with excitement. “I’m going to have you as soon as we get to that villa on the beach, in every room, in every way, baby.” Ebony hid a groan of desire. “Well, you better keep that promise.” They both chuckled. Since Ebony had given birth

to their daughter – Atlas still regarded Matty as his as well as Cormac’s – they had grown even closer. When Ebony had woken after days of being in a post-surgery-induced coma, Atlas had spent hours apologizing to her until she stopped him and told him to kiss her instead. He happily obliged. Ebony, in turn, was delighted that some good had come out of the horror of her and Fino’s abduction. Cormac and Atlas were working on their relationship, Cormac dropping his custody suit. A devastated Stanley and Vida buried Bella – Ebony had defended the young woman and Stanley, in particular, had been grateful for that. “It’s what Vida needs to hear now,” he said softly, kissing Ebony’s cheek. They found out from Mateo’s murderer that he had tricked her into letting him into the grounds that day, and that the shame of it had led her to panic when Carson Franks began to blackmail her. “Bella was simply too naïve,” Stanley said, and Vida nodded. Vida herself had changed, become almost unrecognizable as the slightly annoying, vapid woman she had been. The loss of her only child had made her realize what she had with Stanley was precious, and as a result, they had never been closer. Romy had recovered from her stabbing, although

she still walked with a limp and used a cane. After months of rehabilitation, she was eager to get back to work at Haven. Knowing Blue was reticent, Atlas had made sure that Haven was a safe place to work for all of his staff as well as the residents. The move appeased Blue a little, but Romy was insistent on returning. Carson Franks, knowing he was finished, made a plea-deal – he would plead guilty to avoid the death penalty and was sentenced to life imprisonment without the chance of parole. He would die behind bars. The relief they all felt that Romy, Atlas, Ebony and probably Fino would not need to testify was palpable.

L ATER THAT NIGHT, Ebony kissed her daughter and held her tightly. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with her?” Cormac rolled his eyes and Lydia – who, surprisingly, Ebony had become very close to over the months – smiled. “We can’t wait, Ebs, don’t worry. Matty is going to be spoiled rotten over the next two weeks.” Ebony grinned. “That’s what I’m afraid of, Lyds.” Lydia laughed and took Matty from Ebony. “Look

at this chubby face…adorable. Now, say goodbye to Mommy and Daddy, freckle.” Matty grinned and waved a hand at them, making them laugh. Matty was the happiest child Ebony had ever known – but then again, she was biased. Atlas kissed his daughter. “Be good for Poppa and Lydia, little one. Love you.” He turned and grabbed a passing Fino, swinging the laughing boy up into a hug. “And love you too, kiddo. Look after your sister for us.” “Will do, Pa.” Fino kissed Atlas’s cheek then went to hug Ebony. “Bye, Ma.” Ebony hugged him tightly. “Love you, pickle.” She met Atlas’s gaze over the top of Fino’s head, both of them moved beyond words. It was the first time Fino had called them Ma and Pa.

THEY TALKED about it later on the plane, and then in the taxi as they travelled over the island. Outside, the ocean was a sparkling blue, the flora and fauna colorful, and the sun’s heat soaked into their skins. Atlas kept his promise. The moment the taxi driver had brought their bags into the villa and left with a generous tip, Atlas swung Ebony into his arms, making her giggle as he bore her off to the

bedroom. It took two tries to find it, but as soon as she saw the huge bed, swathed in white mosquito netting, she grinned at him. Atlas dropped her onto the soft mattress and dropped between her legs, pushing up her dress and yanking her panties from her. Ebony hardly had time to catch her breath before his mouth was on her, his tongue lashing around her clit, tasting and biting down on the sensitive bud until Ebony came, her body writhing beneath his as he moved to kiss her mouth. Atlas hitched her legs around his waist and thrust into her, making her moan with desire as he began to move, his rhythmic thrusts measured and deep. Ebony crushed her lips against his as they fucked hard, clawing at each other, the intensity increasing until they were both coming, moaning each other’s name. Making love late into the evening, they eventually collapsed from hunger and exhaustion, and enjoyed some food out on the veranda. Atlas stroked his hand through her hair and she leaned into his touch. “You know what’s strange? I feel this is the first time we’ve really been alone since we met.” Ebony laughed. “Well, technically, we are. I had Matty in my belly the very first time we met so, yeah, you’re right.” They both laughed. “You know what this means?”

“What?” Ebony was grinning, seeing the lascivious look in his eye, and knowing exactly what he was going to say. “It means, my beautiful, sexy wife, that we can do very, very dirty stuff, all day, every day…” Ebony leaned over and kissed him gently. “Just how dirty are we talking, Mr. Tigri?” “Well,” he said, pulling her onto his lap, “why don’t we go back to bed and I’ll show you exactly how dirty?” Ebony giggled and stroked his face. “I love you so much, Atlas. So very much.” And he lifted her into his arms and took her back to bed.

I T WAS the middle of the night when she woke to a deep blue moonlight. Getting up, she went to the window and gazed out at the ocean, lapping at the little beach outside their villa. One year, six weeks, four days. Her life had completely changed in that time. Not only had she met Atlas, married him, and had her first child – their first child – she had become an adoptive mother and had survived kidnapping and injury.

All that…and now she was on the cusp of a major moment in her career. Over the last few months she had been working with Quartet record company and was about to release her first album. After this holiday, she would start to promote the record and then, in a few months’ time, a tour. A tour of the best jazz clubs in America, starting with Alley Cats in Seattle down on 6th Avenue. Ebony shivered in anticipation, then sighed happily as she felt Atlas’s arms slide around her waist and he pressed his lips down on her shoulder. “Bed got cold,” he said and she chuckled. “I doubt the temperature here drops below eighty degrees even at night.” Atlas laughed softly, “Okay, then, bed got empty.” Ebony turned in his arms and gazed up at him. He made her heart beat faster, just with that gorgeous green-eyed gaze. She smoothed her fingers over his features, drinking him in. Atlas smiled down at her. “You’re so beautiful. What were you thinking about?” Ebony smiled, pressing her naked body against his and her lips against his mouth. “Tomorrow,” she said, and led him back to bed.

THE E ND .

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Went to the toy store for my kid, came home with a woman for me… Something inside of me began to

smolder for her that hot afternoon. Once I had her within my walls, I couldn’t think about anything other than getting my hands on her, using her body to quench the fire that had grown inside me. Taking her in every way imaginable and making her beg for more, were my devious plans. She’d become my hot little muse, making nightly visits to her master’s bedroom to lend me some of her sexual magic. But would our little secret be the only thing that could separate us… Sign up now, and read the story that will take you on whirlwind ride, sure to please. Click here to get your copy https://dl.bookfunnel.com/nb60yc6999

HER DARK MELODY EXTENDED EPILOGUE A BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

S

eptember…

AS THEY LAZED ABOUT in their bed in their home in Seattle, Atlas Tigri chuckled and nudged his wife with his foot. “Hey, sleepyhead, here’s a great one. Verlaine’s ‘Angelheart’ is a throwback to the sheer class and subtlety of Fitzgerald and Holiday, albeit, with a fiery sensuality which leave the listener’s skin tingling—and perhaps in need of more than one post-coital cigarette.” Ebony sat up on their bed as Atlas skimmed through the reviews of her new album on his laptop. “It really says that?”

Atlas spun the computer around so she could read the review herself. “Wow.” Ebony had been so nervous about releasing this album, her sophomore effort, because she had unleashed all her emotions on it; her love for Atlas, for her children, Matty and Fino, for her family. Angelheart was also a love letter to New Orleans, to the place where she had begun her musical career in clubs and cafés, and only the previous night, she had held her launch party at one of the first bars she’d ever sung, the Hot Tin Roof—which also happened to be the place where her boss’ wife, Kym Clayton, had run away to before finding success with her own band. Roman Ford of the Quartet Record company had made sure the place was packed with both industry types, fans, and all of Ebony’s family and friends. They’d played a small set early in the afternoon so that Ebony and Atlas’s children could help her celebrate. Ten-year-old Fino, her adoptive son, and three-year-old Matty, were, along with Atlas, her biggest cheerleaders and she’d wanted them to be part of the celebration. They’d had a riotous time, even the adults, who had stuck to soft drinks for this little party, enjoying the happy family vibe. In the evening though, the atmosphere had changed, becoming adult and sensual. And when Ebony had performed some tracks from Angelheart, including the sexually-charged title

track, she had seen Atlas, and only him, as he watched from the audience, his green eyes burning with desire for her. She had held his gaze throughout the song and later, when the children had been borne off by Ebony’s brother and sisterin-law, Obe and Juno, for a weekend, Atlas and Ebony had returned to their hotel suite and made love for most of the night. Now, she crawled over to him and kissed him. “Sorry, morning breath.” Atlas laughed. “You taste gorgeous, baby. Man, last night …” Ebony grinned and wriggled into his arms. Atlas pushed the computer aside and wrapped his arms around her. “I think it’s safe to say, on this evidence, that your record is a critical success, baby. I’m so proud of you.” “Thank you for inspiring most of it,” Ebony said, trailing her lips along his jawbone. “Scratchy.” Atlas grinned down at her. “I thought you liked me with a beard.” “I do. I like Scratchy.” She nibbled at his chin and made him laugh. “You’ve named my beard?”

“Not just your beard.” They both started to laugh then, Atlas tickling her. “You little nut job. Do I want to know what you’ve named my cock?” “You might.” Atlas laughed loudly. “As long as it’s not ‘Tiny’ or ‘Floppy,’ I don’t care.” Ebony grinned. “It’s definitely not either of those, big boy.” Atlas flipped her onto her back and hitched her legs around his waist. Ebony smiled up at him as she stroked his cock until it was ramrod hard and Atlas plunged it into her. Ebony moaned, the feel of him inside intoxicating, sending shivers through her body. As they moved together, they kissed, talking softly, murmuring each other’s name. Atlas increased his pace, slamming his hips as Ebony encouraged him deeper and deeper, then as he groaned and came, Ebony’s body spasmed with her own release. “God …” She breathed as they recovered, “It just keeps getting better and better with you.” Atlas pressed his lips to hers. “Even after kids.” Ebony grinned. “Well, enjoy this weekend, baby;

these moments we have to ourselves are rare.” “Which reminds me,” Atlas said, looping his arm around her shoulders. “Your birthday in November … I might have arranged for us to go away for another long weekend around then.” Ebony smiled. “You did?” “Uh-huh. And, my love … I thought we might try some new things … some new things that will involve you wearing little else but leather …” “Really?” Ebony chuckled, desire igniting in her eyes. “You do, do you?” “Mm-hmm.” He covered her body with his again. “What do you say, sweetheart? Wanna practice some mild BDSM?” “With you, anything,” she said and gasped as, grinning, Atlas thrust his cock back into her, and they made love again until dawn broke over the city.

NOVEMBER … “When you said a weekend break, silly me, I thought you meant a cabin down at Lake Tahoe,” Ebony grinned as they looked out over the rooftops

of Jaipur. “Not a freaking palace in India.” Atlas laughed. “Well, you never let me take you away or spend money on you, so I thought I would go way over the top.” They were standing on the rooftop terrace of the Maharajah’s Pavilion at Raj Palace, enjoying the panoramic view of the lights as the day grew dark. Atlas had laughed when they had drawn up to the pavilion and Ebony’s jaw had dropped. Inside, the four-floor apartment was sumptuous, and over the top in its decoration. Ebony had walked through each room slowly, drinking in every detail, every jeweled surface, every colorful decoration. In the bedroom, the huge gilded bed was comfortable, and no sooner had their busboy brought their luggage and left them alone, than Atlas had swept Ebony onto the bed. “You like?” “It’s … like some sort of fantasy world,” Ebony was clearly shell-shocked. She grinned at him. “It’s so different, Atlas, to anything I’ve ever experienced … what a wonderful surprise.” “Well, that was the purpose of this vacation … to try new things.” His gaze was intense on hers and she smiled, her own eyes sleepy with desire.

“Well, why don’t you unwrap me and see what I have in store for you?” His eyes lit up. “Oh, ho, ho, so I’m not the only one who’s been keeping secrets?” Ebony wriggled with pleasure and laughed. “Nope.” Atlas, grinning, slowly unbuttoned her lilac tea dress and then as he pulled the fabric apart, he drew in a sharp breath. “Jesus, Ebony …” A delicate gold chain crisscrossed her glorious body, making her dark skin glow, framing her breasts and her belly, sweeping between her legs. On her breasts were two gold nipple clamps. Atlas pressed his mouth to her throat, his hands running over her curves as Ebony stretched out, sighing happily. “Take your clothes off, Atlas; I want to see your body.” Atlas stripped, almost frenzied in his impatience to get back to her body. As he covered her body with his, Ebony ran her hands over his hard pecs, down his flat stomach, and took his cock in her hands. “I want to taste you.” “Together?” She nodded and he moved so she could take his cock into her mouth while his own sought out her

sex, lashing his tongue around her clit and dipping deep into her cunt. They brought each other to an exquisite orgasm, then Atlas hitched her legs around his waist and plunged his huge cock into her as she cried out his name. They fucked furiously, then as she came again, Atlas reached over and grabbed a thick dildo. “I’m going to fuck you with my dick in your cunt and this in your ass … you ready?” “Oh god, yes …” Ebony was delirious with pleasure as Atlas hooked her ankles over his shoulder and slid the dildo into her ass as his cock ream her cunt mercilessly. Ebony’s brain whirled; her eyes rolled back as she was fucked so expertly by her husband and when she came, she was astonished that it hit her so hard, her body jerked and she almost creamed the place down. She’d never let go as much as she did, and afterward, as she was catching her breath, she saw Atlas wasn’t nearly done with her. “Box of toys, little one,” he said, and brought out a flat paddle. Ebony immediately rolled onto her stomach and squealed with pleasure as Atlas brought the paddle down hard on her buttocks. The quick, sharp pain, coupled with Atlas murmuring what he wanted to do to her made her cunt swell and dampen and she felt his hand snake between

her legs, stroking her, sliding two fingers inside her, then three, then four as he stretched her out. His thumb stroked a gentle rhythm over her clit, juxtaposing the tenderness with the sting of the paddle. “Your perfect little butt has goosebumps on it,” Atlas said, and Ebony chuckled. “Atlas … fuck me. Fuck me until I pass out; fuck me until I scream and the whole of the city can hear me.” Atlas dropped the paddle and flipped her onto her back, his hard, throbbing cock straining to be inside her again and he thrust in hard, pinning her hands above her head, his green eyes dangerous and full of determination. It took Ebony’s breath away when he was like this. Atlas fucked her until she was, as promised, screaming, then finally let her recover. “We don’t have do try everything tonight,” he said, tender now, “but I have to say, the thought of having you in every way does turn me on.” Ebony trailed a finger down his chest, looking up at him from underneath her lashes. “As it does me … I do have one favor to ask.” “What’s that?”

Ebony grinned widely. “Do you mind if I take these nipple clamps off? They are killing me.”

ATLAS HAD ARRANGED for them to go to dinner in an exclusive restaurant a little way out of the city center and as they ate, swooning over the food, Atlas stroked his finger down her cheek. “You know what I was thinking?” “Usually sex, in your case,” Ebony shot back with a grin. “But no, what?” “One day, and I’m not saying soon, but one day, I’d like to have another child. Our child.” Ebony smiled. She knew what he meant even though they already considered Fino—who was Atlas’s nephew in reality, and Matty, whose biological father wasn’t Atlas—their children in every sense, making a baby that was truly their own was both of their dreams. “I know, darling. And if it wasn’t for my career, I would have it tomorrow. But I do need to do this first.” “Oh, I know. Ebs, you can’t imagine how proud I am. You’re a superstar.” “Ha, not quite, but thank you, baby.” Atlas kissed her. “Mark my words … this album is

going to go global.”

E BONY, skeptical, nevertheless appreciated his praise, but it wasn’t until the following day when she even believed it a little. Roman Ford telephoned her, apologizing for interrupting her vacation. “Is Atlas with you at the moment? I think you should both hear this.” He sounded so excited that Ebony’s heart began to thump harder as she switched the call to speakerphone. “Okay, Roman, go ahead.” “Ebony … the Grammy announced this morning.”

nominations were

Ebony’s heart leaped—but at the same time, she felt sick. Her first album had been roundly praised by critics but had failed to secure any Grammy love at all. Surely it would be the same this time …? “You’ve been nominated. Best Jazz Vocal Album for Angelheart.” Ebony let out her breath in a long whoosh. “Oh my God,” she whispered as Atlas let out a whoop. Roman laughed. “And …”

Another Grammy nomination?? Holy cr… “And?” “Album of the Year.” “No.” Ebony felt all the blood rush to her head and she sat down. Atlas wrapped his arms around her, his smile wide and triumphant. “And …” Roman was clearly having fun. “Song of the Year for the title track.” “No fucking way …” Ebony rarely cursed, but her entire body was trembling. This couldn’t be happening. “You’re just teasing me now, Roman.” “And …” He surely wasn’t going to say what she thought he was, was he? It was impossible. “Record of the Year.” The big one. The Grammy everybody wanted. “You’re making this up.” Both Roman and Atlas laughed. “I’m really not. Ebony, darling, congratulations. You deserve every moment of this. And, should you win, you’ll be Quartet’s second major Grammy winner. This is happening.” “God.” Ebony put her face in her hands, overwhelmed. “This is just unbelievable.”

“No, it isn’t,” Roman said cheerfully, “we all knew this was a special record. You let go on it and showed pure, unadulterated passion. By the way, I’ll get in trouble if I don’t pass on Kym’s congratulations. She says she’s just glad her band didn’t release an album this year.” Ebony laughed. “Ha, lucky for me, rather. Thanks, Roman. I just need to absorb it, is all.” “Okay, honey, well, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of your vacation. Come in to see me once you get back to Seattle.” “I promise. Bye, Roman.”

AFTER SHE ENDED THE CALL, Ebony and Atlas stared at each other for a long moment, then erupted in a cacophony of cheering and whooping, hugging each other, rolling around on the floor like excited kids. Afterward they called Fino and Matty in the states and told them. Matty just gurgled happily down the phone, but Fino, who knew well what the Grammys meant, was excited and delighted. “Can I come? Can I come to the ceremony?” “We’ll see, champ,” Atlas told his son, and laughed when he heard Fino’s disgruntled sigh.

The rest of the vacation was a blur and as they left India for Seattle, Ebony sat back in her seat and smiled at her husband. “This has been the perfect break,” she kissed him softly, “thank you. I’d love to bring the kids here one day. Perhaps not to a palace; we’re not the Kardashians.” She laughed as Atlas pulled a face. “We could bring all three of our kids … or four … or five …” He grinned as Ebony rolled her eyes, smiling. “Slow your roll there, cowboy. Let’s start with the third and see where we go.” Atlas brushed his lips against hers. “I love you, Grammy nominee Ebony Verlaine.” “As I love you, Grammy-nominee seducer, Atlas Tigri.”

F EBRUARY … Ebony remembered that conversation now as she stood at the side of the stage at Madison Square Garden, waiting to go on to perform Angelheart. Swallowing down her nerves, which were made worse by the fact that she was opening the show, she took a deep breath in. The past three months had been a whirl of press, interviews, television

performances and gigs, all orchestrated by Quartet to maximize her visibility and help her Grammy campaign. Ebony had found it hard to go full-on with the selfpromotion, but Atlas had told her, “All you have to do is show you believe in your work, show all that passion that went into making the record, and you’ll be fine.” So, every time she went on a talk show, or did breakfast television, or talked to a hundred different journalists, not just from the music press, she tried to remember that and it got her through. This month, she was even schedule to do a photo shoot for Cosmopolitan. “Me? A photoshoot?” Emily Moore, her publicist, had rolled her eyes and grinned. “Ebony, you’re stunning, and you have a unique look. Of course, the fashion magazines will want you.” Even now, as she was being announced, Ebony still felt like the newbie, even if she was wearing a skintight silver Versace dress and sky-high heels. Just don’t fall over, she told herself, then felt her adrenaline spike as her introductory music began and she was waved out onto the stage.

E BONY COULDN ’ T REMEMBER much of the ceremony when she thought about it later. Her performance was greeted with wild and rapturous applause and when, forty-five minutes later, Angelheart was announced at the winner of the Best Jazz Vocal Album, she felt as if she were floating outside of her body. She was a freaking Grammy winner! How the hell did that happen? Atlas was beside himself with joy, picking her up and twirling her around before she made her way to the stage. Accepting her award, she thanked everybody who had been involved in making Angelheart happen—and then thanked Atlas and her children, a few tears escaping as she did. Roman had told her that rarely did jazz albums or songs win the big awards, Album, Song, or Record of the Year, and so it proved with Album and Song which went to a pop act and a rap artist respectively. Ebony didn’t care; the nominations were enough, and now she could enjoy the ceremony without nerves. She and Atlas snuck to the dressing rooms mid-ceremony and made love, giggling like teenagers afterward as they made their way back to their seats in the auditorium. Madison Square Garden was packed, and when, as the final award, Record of the Year, was being announced, Ebony gazed around at the crowd, finally letting it sink in where she was. From tiny,

sweaty clubs and bars to here. A sense of achievement and contentment settled over her. Suddenly it seemed as if the noise of the place increased tenfold and every eye in the place turned on her. Beside her, Atlas and her friends were on their feet, roaring their approval. Ebony blinked and looked at Atlas in confusion. “What?” His gorgeous face split with the widest smile, he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. “You won, baby, you won! Record of the Year.” Ebony felt all the blood drain from her face. “No way.” But then she looked around and saw the entire place applauding at her and knew it was true. She had won the biggest award of the night.

“DID I ACTUAL SOUND COHERENT?” she asked Atlas in the cab back to their hotel, clutching her two gold Grammy awards. Atlas laughed. “As coherent as I would sound in that situation. Baby, I cannot tell you how proud I am, and how much I love you. You made it, baby. You fucking slayed tonight.” Ebony giggled and kissed him. “Nothing without you, baby.” She gazed at him. “I won everything I needed when I met you. But,” she continued with a

grin, hefting the awards in her hands, “these are pretty sweet too. And Fino and Matty can have one each in their rooms.” “They’ll love it.” Atlas pressed his mouth against hers then nuzzled her ear. “And when we get back to the hotel, baby, I’m going to give you something else heavy and hard.” Ebony burst out laughing and Atlas grinned. “You think I’m joking?” “Oh, no, I’m just going to hold you to that … all night long.”

E BONY CLOSED her eyes and shivered with pleasure. Atlas’s huge, diamond-hard cock was buried deep in her cunt and his mouth was on her nipple, sucking and teasing it until it was unbearably sensitive. His hand stroked her clit and soon Ebony was gasping and coming hard as Atlas dominated her body. She felt his cock exploded inside her, filling her with his sweet, creamy cum. “Oh, how I love you, Atlas Tigri,” she sighed as they caught their breath. “So, so much.” Atlas stroked her face. “As I love you.” “Maybe we should make another baby right now,” Ebony said, her emotions in turmoil, a delirium of

happiness. Atlas smiled and kissed her. “How about we leave it to chance? I hate regimented things.” Ebony nodded. “Okay, I’ll come off birth control and we’ll roll the dice; what do you say?” “I say, let’s do it.”

A FEW DAYS LATER , however, Ebony discovered that her burgeoning career was about to make being spontaneous a problem. At Quartet’s offices, she met with Roman Ford and his business partner Dash Hamilton to talk about how to make the most of her Grammy win. “We’ve already seen a three-hundred percent spike in sales,” Dash grinned at her, “but what we want is longevity. Your genre has typically been based on album sales rather than singles, and if we play this right, Angelheart will still be selling thirty years from now. You have a once-in-a-lifetime talent, Ebony.” Ebony knew she shouldn’t feel overwhelmed, but she still did. “So, what do we do next?” Roman smiled. “Well, sadly, it promotion, which means more

will mean interviews,

performances … and a tour. Here’s the thing, Ebony. To really make the most of this situation, we’re thinking a world tour. Which means time away from your family … a lot of time.” Ebony was dismayed. “We can’t do it in stages?” “We could, and certainly there’s scope for breaks between each country—to a certain extent. We are a business, after all, and we have to keep costs as low as we can to maximize profit. Which means, in effect, that when you go to Europe, you’ll do two gigs in each capital where the biggest markets are, then move onto the next country. It’ll be intense and exhausting … but vital.” And there goes our plans for a baby, at least for a year or so. Ebony was surprised how much that upset her but she didn’t feel she could say anything to Roman or Dash.

ATLAS LISTENED to what she had to say as they made dinner later that night. Ebony stirred the marinara sauce for the pasta, unable to look Atlas in the eye as she told him they would have to postpone their plans to have another baby for a year or so. Atlas was quiet over dinner, but Fino and Matty

kept up a steady conversation. They were both still enamored of their Grammy awards, sitting proudly on a bookshelf in each of their bedrooms. Ebony glanced over at Atlas, who was chewing his food, his eyes locked in the middle distance. She was serving the children some fruit salad when he finally spoke. “Kids … you know Momma is a superstar now? Well, she has to go away for a while and we may not see her much for the next year while she goes to sing around the world.” Matty looked wide-eyed. “A year?” Ebony nodded, feeling wretched. Was there a hint of rancor in Atlas’ words or was he merely being practical? Fino nodded sagely. “I knew you would have to go on tour, Ma. Can we come to some of the concerts?” “Of course, Fino, baby … but it might mean you won’t see me for a long time. We can’t interrupt our schooling, of course. Look,” Ebony sighed. “I won’t deny I hate the idea of being away from you all for so long. I hate it. But it is my job, and I owe it to Quartet. They have been so good to me.” Atlas reached over and took her hand. “I hate it too, but, yes. I think you have to do it.”

L ATER , in bed, Ebony snuggled up to him. “You can say what you really feel now, baby. It’s going to mean we put off having our baby.” Atlas nodded. “And I won’t pretend I’m not disappointed, Ebony, and there’s a part of me that wants to ask you to stay so badly, I could scream. But we’re adults.” Ebony kissed his neck and stroked her hand down his body. “Show me how adult we are, baby.” Atlas smiled at her. “Actually, I’m kind of bushed.” The rejection stung a little but Ebony nodded. “Okay.” There was an awkward pause before Atlas tipped her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I really am tired, baby; I’m not being ornery. I think I might have flu or something.” He pressed his lips against hers. “Hey, if I give you the flu, then you’ll have to stay home.” He grinned to show he was kidding and Ebony laughed. “Would I get a note from my mom?” “We could fake it.” Ebony giggled. “Silly man. I love you so much.” “And I, you, funny face. Listen, this tour … we

both know you have to do it. We can work it all out —I’ll bring the kids out whenever I can … and also arrange for us to have alone time as well. We can make this work.” “And then after the tour … a baby.” Ebony said determinedly. “Our baby. I want it so badly, baby.” “Me too, honey. We have all the time in the world.”

A MONTH LATER , and Ebony stared out of the doctor’s office, not believing what he was telling her and Atlas. Atlas didn’t have the flu. He had cancer. “The good news, if I can call it that, is we caught it early. We can operate to remove the rumor and if we get good margins, I don’t even think you’ll need chemo.” Atlas, as matter of fact as ever, nodded. “We need to get the surgery done before Ebony leaves for her tour, if that’s possible, doc.” Ebony gaped at him. “Baby, there’s no way I’m going on tour now. You need me.” “And I’ll have you when I need you, but you’re not canceling. Not for this. It’s a blip, Ebony, is all.”

“Cancer is not a blip!” Ebony, her nerves frayed and edgy, didn’t mean to snap at her husband, especially not in front of the oncologist, but she was terrified. Her breath caught in her throat, and her voice broke. “This cannot be happening. Not you, Atlas, not you.” Her tears began to fall and Atlas pulled her into his arms. The oncologist stood. “I’ll give you some privacy. Let me just say, Mrs. Tigri … we caught it early. That’s a huge advantage.” He nodded to Atlas who smiled at him. “Thanks, doc.”

ALONE, Ebony let her terror out and sobbed. “I can’t bear it, baby. Not you.” Atlas let her cry herself before he wiped her eyes. “Darling Ebony, my love, it’s going to be okay. You saw the x-rays; it’s a tiny tumor. The doc will cut it out and, boom, I’m back in business. No biggie.” Ebony leaned against him. “I’m staying with you.” “Nope.” He smiled at her, his expression soft. “This is the oncology equivalent of having root canal is all. Done and done.”

E BONY WAS FINALLY PERSUADED NOT to cancel the tour but, on the day of Atlas’s surgery, she sat in the relatives’ room, her arms tight around her body, worried sick. Juno and Obe were babysitting the kids, and Romy Allende was sitting with her. Romy’s husband, Blue, was assisting the surgeon, using his privilege as Chief of Surgery to oversee his friend’s case. Romy hugged Ebony. “Blue says it’ll be a breeze,” she tried to reassure the terrified woman, but Ebony would not be comforted. “If I lose him …” She trailed off. Romy, who had been through two horrific attacks and had nearly died, smoothed Ebony’s hair back from her face. “I know, sweetheart, but he really is going to be okay. Blue told me there’s no sign of it spreading and even if they have to take out one of his lungs —he still has another.” Ebony sighed. “He’s never even smoked … apart from a joint back in college.” “Which is probably why it’s only a small tumor. Come on now, let’s talk about something else. Your tour.” Ebony groaned. “God … if you knew how little I wanted to do this tour …”

“I do, but Atlas told me it’s important and I agree. Ebony, you pressed pause for a while on your ambitions for yourself because of Fino and Matty and everything that went on. This is your reward, don’t forget that. A career, something for you, outside of Atlas, and your life here. You are on the cusp of literally having it all. The Sisterhood says— don’t you dare waste it.” Despite her nerves, Ebony had to laugh. “I know, you’re right and I don’t want to seem ungrateful, because I know how lucky I am. It’s just … Atlas and the kids mean everything to me.” “That’s fair enough, but it’s only one life we get, and you need to make sure you reach your potential.” “Yes, Mom.” Romy laughed. “Listen, I get it. But I also got shot and stabbed yet I’m still here. I’m grabbing everything because you never know when it’s going to end.”

AN HOUR LATER , Blue came to find them. As soon as Ebony saw his face, she began to smile. Blue sat down next to her. “Clean margins and the whole of the tumor excised. He’s going to be fine, Ebony,

just fine.”

ONE

Y EAR LATER

…

Ebony’s voice climbed to the final note and held it as the audience leaped to their feet, roaring their approval. The final night of her tour, back in her hometown of Seattle. In the box, up and to the right of the stage, was her family. Atlas, his face reflecting the absolute love she felt for him, his body strong and healthy, held Matty in his arms as Fino jumped up and down in excitement. Her friends at Quartet were there, overjoyed at the tour’s sellout success and the glowing reviews. Then there were Romy and Blue; Juno and Obe; Artemis and Dan; Magda and Stuart; Cormac and Lydia; Stanley and Vida. Her friends, her family, her life. Ebony closed her eyes as she took the ovation and knew she had, as Romy predicted, managed to have it all. She blew kisses at her audience and waved at everyone she could see. “Thank you, Seattle. I love you so much. Thank you, and see you again soon.”

SHE APPLAUDED HER BAND , making sure she namechecked everyone and high-fived them all, then left the stage, her whole body electric with adrenaline. By the time she got back to her dressing room, having been stopped by well-wishers all the way, she smiled when she saw Atlas waiting for her. “Hey, baby.” She pressed her body against his as she kissed him. Atlas tangled his hand in her hair as his mouth moved against his. “I told the kids,” he said in a low, sensual voice, “that I was going to collect Mommy … but we might be a little while.” Ebony grinned, reaching behind her to lock the door as Atlas slowly pulled the zipper on her dress down, then peeled it from her body. As he tugged the lacy cup of her bra down to take one dark red nipple into his mouth, Ebony sighed happily. “God, I love you, Atlas Tigri.” She smiled to herself as his mouth moved lower, his lips on the soft skin of her belly. Ebony hid a grin as he paused, and knew he was noticing the slight swell of her abdomen. He looked up her, his beautiful green eyes curious, and her own eyes filled with happy tears as she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “I completely lost track of my periods when I went on tour, but over the last

few weeks, I’d been feeling odd. Not ill, exactly, but different. Because we had switched to condoms instead of the pill, I didn’t think I could be pregnant yet. I wasn’t sure at first, but I just did a test before I went on stage. We’re having a baby, Atlas.” She laughed as his mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ of surprise, his face boyish, then he was gathering her up in his arms and showering her with kisses, making her giggle. Soon, though, they were naked and Atlas was thrusting his huge cock into her, and they fucked passionately, laughing and joking around the whole time. As Ebony came, she clung to him, gazing into his eyes. “I love you so much, Atlas, and I can’t wait for our child to be born.” “Me either, baby, me either.”

SARAH C LELIA TIGRI was born five months later and as her parents gazed down at their first fully biological child, they knew their family was complete.

T HREE

Y EARS LATER …

Ebony gathered all three of her children in her arms

as they ran to her. Another long tour over, her third album, a huge success … and now she was taking a well-deserved few months off with her family. She and Atlas had bought a private villa in the Italian countryside, away from paparazzi, away from the bustle of the big cities. It had become their haven, and during the vacation months, they took their family to Italy, enjoying not only the summers but the winter holiday season too. It was Christmas again, and not only that, but Atlas’s fortieth birthday celebrations. For once, their villa was filled not just with their immediate family but all of their friends and family, and Ebony was throwing her husband a huge party. As they changed for the party, Atlas tackled her to the floor and they made love, laughing and giggling. “Are we ever going to grow up?” “God, I hope not.” Atlas braced his arms as he thrust harder, making her moan with pleasure. Ebony gazed up at him. “You’re gorgeous.” He answered her with a grin and a final thrust of his hips before he came, Ebony reaching her own climax as she felt his seed filling her cunt. “God, I love you fucking me, Tigri.” “And we get to do it for the rest of our lives, baby.”

Atlas kissed her passionately and they smiled at each other as they caught their breaths. “You and I, we’re for the long haul.” Ebony touched his face. “Happy birthday, baby.” Atlas smiled. “You’re so beautiful, Ebony Tigri.” “Hold that thought, baby. We have a party to attend.” A few minutes later and they stood at the top of their staircase, looking down at the party in full flow beneath them. Ebony turned to her husband. “Before we go down, there’s something I want to tell you.” “And what’s that?” She smiled. “I love you, is all.” Atlas smiled. “And that’s all I’ll ever need.” And he led her down the stairs to greet their guests.

THE E ND .

Shanghai Dreams: Her Dark Melody Extra Story “Okay, tough love time,” said Clelia Tigri-Monarato to her friend Molly Hudson, as they sat outside Clelia’s home in the Tuscan Hills. It was a beautiful summer evening, but Molly still shivered. Since the murder of her love, Mateo Tigri —Clelia’s brother—a few months ago, Molly had fled to Italy. Although she loved Fino, Mateo’s son, as if he were her own, being around him, and Mateo’s identical twin Atlas, had been too much to bear for the young woman. She couldn’t exile herself entirely though, and so when she had turned up at Clelia’s home, desperate for some connection to the family, Clelia had welcomed her with open arms. “Darling, we all miss Mateo so much, and no one blames you for wanting some space. You can stay with us as long as you need to.” “I know, Clelia, and I have been thinking about what my next move will be. You’ve been such a gracious hostess, but I can’t impinge on your family anymore.” Clelia nodded, her green eyes so like her brother’s.

“And what have you decided?” “I have an opportunity in Shanghai, a new tutoring position. My agency told me about an American businessman who needs a tutor for his daughter.” “And China is far enough away from the states.” Molly smiled sheepishly. “There is that, but also a new challenge. Another single father.” Clelia grinned. “Interesting.” Molly tried to smile. “Believe me, Clelia, romance is that last thing on my mind.” Clelia leaned over and squeezed her hand. “Molly, Mateo would want you to be happy.”

MOLLY WAS THINKING of her friend’s words as she moved through the arrivals hall of Shanghai airport. Mateo’s death had left such an indelible scar on her psyche that she knew that she would stay away from any kind of situation where romance was involved. For now, and for the foreseeable future, Molly Hudson was going to be all about her career. She saw a sign with her name and headed towards the well-dressed man. “I’m Molly Hudson.” “Good to meet you, ma’am,” he said in perfect

English. “Mr. Hoyland asked me to collect you and bring back to the house. Do you have much luggage?” They collected her two rather battered suitcases and the driver, Lee, smiled at her. “Don’t look so nervous, ma’am. Mr. Hoyland is very informal, and you will like his daughter, Josie. She is a bright, funny girl with a good heart.” Molly smiled at the man. She hadn’t expected such an informal, warm welcome as Lee drove her through the streets of Shanghai and out of the city. The Hoyland Estate was one hundred kilometers outside the city, on China’s biggest lake, Dushu, in the city of Suzhou, and Molly couldn’t stop gazing out at the beautiful countryside and the buildings that were so different from her own experience. Lee told her about the country as he drove but didn’t ask her any personal questions, well-trained, Molly thought gratefully. By the time they had reached the estate, it was already growing dark, and as Molly was greeted by the housekeeper, a friendly woman called Biyu, Molly’s eyes were wide with surprise and awe. Zander Hoyland’s estate made the Tigris’ mansion in Seattle look like a homeless shelter. Built in the pagoda style, the black and white building was spread over a vast swath of the lake

shore. Biyu and Lee exchanged amused looks when they saw Molly’s expression. “Mr. Hoyland has granted you the use of your apartment within the grounds, Ms. Hudson. Perhaps you would allow us to show you to it?” Molly nodded dumbly. The place looked like a fairytale, with the mirror-like lake outside, and wide, clean, open spaces within. Having lived with the Tigris, Molly had the eye for knowing how expensive everything in the vast house was, the art on the walls, to the fabrics of the drapes and upholstery. The apartment was set in a small, peaceful courtyard; inside, it was anything but small. Molly looked at Biyu. “This is too much, really.” Biyu chuckled. “Believe me, this is about as down to earth as the place gets. Now, Mr. Hoyland asks that you take your time to settle in, get some rest, and he’ll see you in the morning. Are you hungry?” “A little.” “I’ll bring you a tray, and you’ll find the kitchen in the apartment is fully stocked. Welcome, Ms. Hudson, we’re very glad to have you.” “You’re so kind, thank you.” After Biyu and Lee left her alone, Molly explored

the apartment, then decided to have a soak in the tub. An hour later, she was towel-drying her hair when a maid knocked and rolled in a trolley laden with food. Starving, Molly ate her fill of the most delicious duck, noodle, and fish dishes, followed with fresh fruit. The living room in the apartment was spacious and the couch was soft and comfortable. Molly, tugging her book from her bag, lay down on it, intending to read. A half hour later, though, her jetlag caught up with her and she fell asleep. She woke in the early hours, cold and shivering. Dragging herself up, she padded silently towards the bedroom, glancing out of the window overlooking the courtyard. A movement caught her eye. Down below, sitting on one of the stone benches surrounding the koi pond, was a figure. Molly stepped closer to the window. A man, smoking a cigarette, was hunched over on the bench. Molly watched him, and perhaps sensing her scrutiny, the man looked up. For a second, Molly’s breath caught in her throat. Mateo. She shook herself and stepped back from the window. No. Don’t be ridiculous. She risked another peek. The man wasn’t looking at her, but into the darkness, his face, his glorious handsome

face, wracked with sorrow, with pain. Molly let out a long breath. God. He looked so much like Mateo it was ridiculous, same dark curls, same rugged yet boyish face. Oh dammit, dammit. The last thing she needed was a reminder of Mateo … she hoped the man was merely an employee of Hoyland’s. She could barely stand to look at the pain on the man’s face and wondered if she should go down to the courtyard to speak to him. The next moment, however, he flung the cigarette to the ground, crushing it out, and disappeared back into the darkened house. Molly went to bed, almost groaning as she climbed into the soft, downy sheets and turned on her side. I have to stop seeing Mateo around every corner, in ever face I see. He’s gone. The pain that ripped through her as she told herself that her love was dead was searing and she let herself cry it out, before finally, exhausted, she fell asleep.

SHE WAS up early the next morning, her body clock still not adjusted. She showered and changed into fresh clothes, looking at her reflection in exasperation. Her eyes were swollen, her nose blotchy, and her cheeks flushed. Well, the crying jag was a really good idea, she said to herself but

shrugged it off. She wasn’t here to be a mannequin. She walked through the maze of hallways until she heard voices. She stuck her head around a door and saw Biyu chatting with a young girl. They both looked up and smiled at her. “Well, good morning. Josie, this is Ms. Hudson. Ms. Hudson, Josie Hoyland.” Josie pushed herself from the chair she had claimed and came to shake Molly’s hand. “How do you do?” The girl had long black hair and wide bright green eyes, and had obviously been told to greet her formally. A smile broke out over her sweet face and Molly grinned back at her. “I’m very well, thank you, Josie. It’s lovely to meet you. Please, call me Molly.” Josie looked a little unsure, glancing back towards Biyu. “Perhaps,” Biyu said, with a smile, “Josie, you should call Molly ‘Miss Hudson’ during lessons, and Molly after school.” She looked at Molly. “Is that oaky? It’s just Mr. Hoyland does like to maintain a certain … hierarchy, if that isn’t too strong a word.” “If Josie is okay with that, I am, too.” Molly squatted to the girl’s level. “But I must warn you, Josie … my lessons are always fun, so if you forget,

it doesn’t matter. I won’t tell anyone.” Josie’s eyes shone—Molly had made a friend already, she could tell. Josie took her hand and led her to the table. “Biyu made breakfast.” Soon Molly was chatting to the housekeeper and her charge as if she had known them forever. Josie Hoyland was a bright, curious young woman, and when Molly shared her thoughts for lessons, Josie nodded eagerly. After breakfast, Biyu bore Josie off to get ready for her first lesson while Lee arrived to take her to meet Zander Hoyland. Molly found she was nervous of meeting the man who owned this palatial mansion, and just as Lee knocked on Hoyland’s study door, she felt a rush of adrenaline and wanted to back away, tell Lee she had made a mistake, that she didn’t want to do this and please, could he take her back to the airport … “Ms. Molly Hudson, sir.” Damn it. Too late now … Molly stepped into the study and let out along breath. She knew it was him. The man from the courtyard. Zander Hoyland looked up and seemed as taken aback as she was. Did he have that many blondes installed in his home that he didn’t know she was the tutor? Molly’s heart hardened, even though Zander

Hoyland was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen, even equal to Mateo’s feral beauty. Zander Hoyland shook himself and shook her hand. “Ms. Hudson, I’m sorry. Welcome. I trust you slept well.” Did you? “Yes, wonderfully, thank you. Your home is … spectacular.” Hoyland gave her a chilly smile. “It’s a little too spectacular, if you ask me, but my late wife adored it. She never thought she would ever live somewhere like this.” “So, you made her dreams come true?” The smile was a little less chilly then. “In a way. She gave me far more than I could ever give her.” His bright green eyes were watchful, and Molly realized with a shock that this man, this billionaire, this king of his castle … was shy. Something twisted in her heart. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said softly, then offered him a friendly smile. “I just met Josie— what a wonderful little girl. She seems excited about getting started on her schooling, and I have to admit, her enthusiasm has affected me already.” Zander Hoyland was defrosting fast, and he offered

her a seat. “Lee, could you ask Biyu to bring some tea and coffee for us? I’d like to go through some lesson plans with you, if that’s okay, Ms. Hudson?” “Of course. And it’s Molly. Ms. Hudson sounds like my maiden aunt.” A smile hitched up the corner of his mouth. “Understood.” He hesitated. “Then please, when not in front of Josie, please call me Zander.” “As in Alexander?” He shook his head. “Just Zander. Mom was Greek; Dad was American.” He smiled. “And what about you?” Molly kept a straight face. “No, Molly’s not short for Alexander either.” Zander’s eyes widened for a moment, then he snorted, a quick, amused laugh. “I can see already, we’re going to get along, Molly.” His smile faded. “God, I’d forgotten what it felt like to laugh.” He shook himself “Sorry, that was inappropriate. Ah, thanks, Biyu.” “No problem.” Biyu grinned at her boss and Molly was slightly confused. Where was this hierarchy Biyu had mentioned? Biyu rolled the tray of tea and coffee next to them and then left them alone.

Zander Hoyland was studying her, and Molly held his gaze while he did. “I heard you were working for Mateo Tigri. Terrible what happened to him.” Molly felt the blood drain from her face. “Did you know the Tigris?” Zander nodded, still watching her carefully. “I did. Both of them wonderful men. We were at Harvard together. I was often mistaken for them.” Her throat was closed. “You certainly resemble them.” Her voice broke and she looked away from him, concentrating on her coffee. There was a long silence. “Molly, I know grief. Hell, I live in it, wallow in it, so Biyu tells me, and I can see it in you too. If you took this job so you could get away, could forget … I understand. As long as it doesn’t affect Josie in any way, use this time to heal. I’m assuming you were close to Mateo?” Molly nodded, lifting her chin defiantly. “I was close to him. I loved him; I loved his son Fino. I believe, and Atlas Tigri confirmed, that Mateo intended to propose to me. He died before he could, so something feels … unfinished.” She had no idea why she was telling this man so much personal stuff but her instincts were telling

her it was okay. Zander leaned forward, putting his coffee cup down. “I get that. I do. My wife, Mai, was confined to a wheelchair due to multiple sclerosis, but it never once dampened her joie de vivre. She was more active, more social than I am; she put me to shame. Then one day … she was gone. Snuffed out, just like that.” He sighed, then laughed awkwardly. “Well, in just under a few minutes, we’ve already shared more than I’ve told anyone, except perhaps Biyu and Lee. I’m sorry.” Molly, feeling brave, shook her head. “Don’t be. It speaks to your honesty, sir.” “Zander.” She smiled. He really was very sweet underneath all of the accoutrements of his wealth. Just like Mateo, she thought with a pang. “Zander, would you like to see some of my lesson plans? I always like to work in partnership with my charges and their parents to make sure all three of us are satisfied with the outcome.” Zander smiled gratefully at her. “That would be good, thank you.” An hour later, they had agreed on the lesson plans and Molly prepared to leave and begin her first

class with Josie. “I do like to spend the first day talking with my student and getting to know her, getting to understand her interests, her favorite subjects …” She grinned at him. “… her least favorite subjects. Mine was, or is, math. Always was.” Zander laughed softly. “Same here.” “Really?” She looked skeptical, glancing around the sumptuous surroundings, and Zander looked sheepish. “Molly, that’s what accountants are for.” She chuckled. “Fair enough. Well, I’ll go find Josie, and seeing as that means the first lesson has started … I’ll say goodbye for now, Mr. Hoyland.” Zander stood and escorted her to the door. “Ms. Hudson … would you have a late supper with me after Josie is in bed? I’d like to know how her first day has gone.” Molly smiled at him. “Of course. I would enjoy that.” Zander held her gaze for a beat too long. “Then, until later.” “Until later.”

MOLLY FLICKED through her diary and wondered where the time had gone. It had been three months since she arrived in China and her life had completely changed. Josie, her pupil, was flourishing under her tutelage, and Molly had found new enthusiasm for her job. Biyu and Lee had become trusted friends, and Zander Hoyland … She had shared supper with him every night since her arrival and each time, she had learned more and more about this shy man. He was as fiercely intelligent as his daughter, as passionate about his work—dealing in priceless works of art—and, staggeringly, an introvert. Zander told her about his wife, but, Molly noticed, had never spoken of her death since that first day. In turn, Molly felt she could confide in the man about her pain about Mateo. They had become friends, and, to Molly’s delight, Zander would chat to her as if she were his most trusted friend. It confused her slightly, given Biyu’s warning about his love of hierarchy. She asked the housekeeper about it as she assisted her in clearing Josie’s supper from the table. Biyu nodded. “I did say that, and I stand by that. Mr. Hoyland isn’t one for letting people in. Look at this place … apart from Lee, myself, and you, he barely scrapes by with a minimal staff.” Biyu

sighed. “I’ve known Mr. Hoyland since he was a boy. He’s always been quiet, studious, solitary. When he met Ms. Mai, he came out of himself a little, and when Josie was born, he was a changed man.” Biyu was smiling, lost in the memory. Molly wiped a plate then set it down. “Biyu … how did Mrs. Hoyland die? Zan … I mean, Mr. Hoyland, alluded to the fact that it was a shock, despite her illness.” Biyu nodded, her eyes sorrowful. “Ms. Mai took her own life. Only afterward did we discover why. She had been having an affair with a man who broke her heart. She herself was heartsick that she had broken Mr. Hoyland’s trust. Despite her infidelity, she really did love him.” Molly felt a jolt of shock. “She cheated?” Biyu gave her a steady look. “She couldn’t bear the fact that she’d done it. When her lover threatened to tell Mr. Hoyland everything, she pushed her wheelchair onto a balcony, then used her arms to lift herself and fall on the second floor. We found her body in the courtyard and her note in her room.” “God …” Suddenly, Molly felt angry for Zander, and for Josie. “How could she do that? To her daughter? Her husband? Josie could have been the

one to find her.” Biyu put down her dishcloth. “Molly, nothing is ever black and white. Ms. Mai was lonely. Mr. Hoyland buries himself in his work … at least he has until these last few months.” She smiled kindly at Molly. “You have given him new meaning, my dear one. I see the joy in his eyes; you have become his good friend.” Molly flushed red and hid her delight. She too had benefited from their friendship—the pain over Mateo hadn’t lessened. Rather, it had shifted, from a raging disbelief, to a calmer acceptance. Almost, she thought, I’m almost there. Talking about him with Zander had helped her immeasurably. She decided to go say goodnight to Josie before she met with Zander and so she walked slowly through the mansion’s hallways. There was still so much of the house that she hadn’t even explored yet, but she still felt awkward about intruding on the family’s privacy. Molly put her hand on the handle of Josie’s door but stopped when she heard voices. She heard Josie telling her father about her day, and smiled when she heard the enthusiasm in the young girl’s voice.

“So, it’s been three months now, and you like Molly?” Molly’s heart began to beat a little faster as she listened to Zander’s deep, mellifluous voice. “I love Molly,” Josie said, her voice light and excited. “Daddy, she is the best. I mean it. I wish she would stay forever.” “I hope she does, too, pumpkin.” There was a pause. “Daddy, she makes you happy too, doesn’t she?” “She does, Jojo. She’s Daddy’s good friend.” “You know … I think Mommy would have like Molly too.” Molly heard Zander chuckle. “She would have, sweetie. Now, time for you to go to sleep.” “Aww, Dad, can’t I read for a while?” “A half hour then lights out.” “Okay. Love you.” “Love you too, sweet pea. Sleep tight.” Molly began to walk away from the door, not wanting them to know she had been listening, then stopped when she heard Josie call out to her father.

“Daddy? I think Mommy would want you to be in love again, to be happy. Do you think you could be in love with Molly?” There was a long silence and Molly felt she could hear her heart beating hard against her ribs. She heard Zander’s soft laugh. “Sleep tight, kiddo. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” Molly was frozen where she stood. He hadn’t said he loved her, but then again, he hadn’t said he didn’t, either. What was shocking to Molly in that moment was her own reaction. At that moment she knew, without hesitation, that she was in love with Zander Hoyland. The revelation shook her whole foundation. Really? How did this happen? She heard Zander close Josie’s door behind her and turned slowly to face him. He gazed at her, and in his eyes, she could see a burning desire. She stared back at him as he approached her and when they were inches apart, Zander stroked a finger down her face, then took her hand. Wordlessly, they walked hand in hand through the house, never taking their eyes off each other, an unspoken agreement in the air between them. Molly felt as if she were disconnected from her

body, right up until she realized they were in Zander’s bedroom and bending his head, Zander brushed his lips against hers. Electricity flowed through her body and she gave a little gasp of surprise. Zander stopped, his mouth curving up in a soft smile. “Darling Molly,” he murmured, “I know this isn’t appropriate, but God help me, I want you so badly. But you say stop and we stop, no recriminations, no awkwardness.” Molly gazed into his beautiful green eyes then shook her head. “Don’t stop.” Her voice was a whisper, and she could feel her whole body trembling, Zander crushed his lips against hers, and Molly tangled her fingers in his curls as they kissed. Zander stroked his hands down her body. “Are you sure, Molly?” She nodded, too intoxicated by his kiss to speak, and then he was unzipping her dress and pulling it from her shoulders. Molly snaked her hand down to his groin and cupped his cock through his jeans, feeling it quiver and stiffen against her touch. Zander smiled, his eyes sleepy with desire. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to do that, baby.” Molly grinned, and dropping to her knees, she freed his cock from his underwear and took him into her

mouth. As she licked the salty pre-cum from the tip, she hollowed out her cheeks as she sucked, teased, and pleasured him, Zander’s groans urging her on. She fisted the root of his cock and massaged his balls gently, but as he neared his peak, he slid his hands under her shoulders and pulled her up, kissing her with such ferocity that she tasted blood. He laid her back on the bed and gently slid her panties down her legs, before pushing them apart and burying his face in her sex. Molly gasped as his tongue snaked around her clit, then dipped deep into her cunt. Her entire body felt like it had been set aflame as Zander moved his lips over her body, finally moving upwards over her belly then taking her nipples into his mouth. “Zander …” Her groan of desire made him smile and he sat back, reaching into his nightstand for a condom and rolling it on his throbbing length. Molly could barely stand to wait as he hitched her legs around his waist then with one long, determined thrust, he was inside her and she moaned with delirious pleasure. They made love slowly, taking their time to experience every sensation, murmuring sweetly to each other. Molly saw that Zander was as nervous as she was and yet his sexual prowess made her weak, his strong, hard body completely dominating

hers. “God, Molly … you’re so beautiful …” Zander couldn’t stop kissing her, until they were both breathless and as Molly climaxed, her back arched up, pressing her belly against his, and she cried out his name again and again. Zander groaned as he too peaked and they collapsed together, panting for air, his cock still buried inside her. Molly tightened her legs around him. “Are you okay?” Zander raised his head and smiled at her. “How can you even ask that? It was better than I dreamed.” “You dreamed about me?” Zander smiled sheepishly. “Since the first time I saw you.” So many emotions were flooding through her that suddenly she felt tearful and looked away from his gaze. She closed her eyes for a long moment and tried to process them. Guilt. There was a certain guilt inside her. Mateo … in her head she knew he was gone and that he would want her to move on, but in her heart, there was a pain. She had loved him so entirely and yet, in a few months, she had fallen for Zander, the man who had become her friend, her confidante, the man who was helping

her to heal her heart. She opened her eyes to find him watching her. His smile was tentative. “I know that emotion you’re feeling,” he said softly. “And yes, I feel it too. Mai was everything to me, and I will never forget her. But, Molly, these last few weeks … you mean so much to me.” “I feel the same. But Zander, I’m scared. I’m scared of losing my best friend, because that’s what you’ve become. It is clear to me now that you and Josie are like a family to me—and I’ve been in this position once before and lost everything.” Zander nodded, his eyes serious. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. What happened to Mateo Tigri was tragic, harrowing … and rare. I can assure you, that won’t happen to me.” He sat up and pulled her into his arms. “Molly, we don’t have to rush into anything. We don’t even have to call this a relationship yet, if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just what it is. No pressure, just fun, just friendship, just mutual desire. Whether you realize it or not, you are a part of this family now, an irreplaceable part. If it’s reassurance you want, I’ll give it to you. If it’s security you need, baby, I’ll make sure you feel safe and loved every day. Trust in me, Molly Hudson, and I’ll give you the world.”

Molly gazed into his clear green eyes and knew what her answer what be.

T HREE

Y EARS LATER

…

Josie smoothed down her lilac dress and turned to Molly. “Do I look okay?” Molly grinned at her. “Gorgeous.” Josie beamed and reached up to kiss Molly’s cheek. “So do you, Mom.” Molly felt tears in her eyes. Today, she would marry Josie’s father and become, officially, Josie’s stepmother, and she couldn’t wait. She hadn’t expected the ‘Mom’ from the young girl, but Josie took her hand now and they started to walk downstairs to the courtyard where the minister and Zander were waiting for them. Molly, wearing a simple white dress and a white flower tucked behind her ear, let Josie led her down the aisle. She grinned at the family and friends who had come to see her marry Zander: Clelia and her family, Atlas and Ebony among them. Zander, looking drop-dead-gorgeous in a dark gray suit, wore a devastating smile as he saw her approach him, and in a few emotional minutes, they were married. After they kissed, much to the

delight of their audience, they turned back to thank their friends and family. Zander scooped Josie up into his arms and then Molly went to Ebony and took Molly and Zander’s three-month-old son from her friend. “He’s been an angel,” Ebony said with a smile as she handed him over. Molly took little Harry back to her family and they posed for a family shot together. Zander kissed his son’s forehead then pressed his lips to his new wife’s temple. “You have made me the happiest man in the world today, my darling.” “Ditto,” Molly said with a grin and laughed as he chuckled. “Darling, just you wait until we get to our villa. I’ll give you a honeymoon you’ll never forget.”

ZANDER KEPT his promise and as they made love that night, listening to the crash of waves on the beach outside their villa, Molly was sure her heart would explode from happiness. Zander was kissing her passionately, his cock buried deep inside her, moving with measured but firm thrusts, and Molly knew in this moment, this

perfect moment, that she would never be alone again.

THE E ND .

Dark Masquerade: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance When award-winning writer Elliana Moretti is hired by billionaire philanthropist Aldo Costanza to write his biography, she travels to his secluded mansion outside Venice to interview him. Over the course of six weeks of intensive one-on-one collaborations, an attraction between them emerges, and one night, that attraction develops into a full-blown fling, erotic and intense. The night leaves Elli feeling as if she has been unprofessional and she tells Aldo that while she enjoyed the night, it can never happen again. Aldo accepts this with seeming good grace, but one night, he asks her to escort him to a society party, where she is stunned to meet an old friend, Indio Navaro—her high school crush and noted bad boy billionaire. Indio and Aldo seem acquainted, if a little reserved with each other, and Elli wonders what the story is between them. Aldo is more than happy to trash Indio to Elli later that night, telling her that Indio was responsible for breaking up one of Aldo’s relationships with a girl who later ended up murdered. Elli is horrified, but Aldo’s story doesn’t seem to fit with how she remembers Indio from school.

Indio approaches Elli in a café in Venice, and curious, she agrees to have lunch with him. Elli’s old crush is charming and appears genuinely interested in her. Elli begins to doubt Aldo’s story. Soon, she and Indio are spending more time together, to Aldo’s great jealousy, and Elli finds herself giving her body, her trust, and her heart to Indio. But when Elli finds she is being stalked, she has to wonder whether Indio is indeed more dangerous that she could ever have expected. Has she fallen in love with a killer …or her savior? Does she trust her client, Aldo, or does she follow her heart and believe Indio when he tells her that Aldo is the one she should be afraid of? Set in the swirling, colorful romance of Venice’s Carnival, Elli has to figure which one of her admirers plays the best game in an erotic but deadly Masquerade …

VENICE , Italy December

E LLIANA MORETTI PULLED her too-thin coat around her as she hurried over the bridges and through the

small streets of Venice to work. An ice storm had blown through the city, and as usual, Elli had been completely unprepared for it. At twenty-eight, Elli had made a name for herself as a tenacious investigative journalist, focused entirely on her career. Her beauty was useful, getting her through the door of places she might otherwise have been refused from, but once she had her prey on her hook, her intelligence and talent were what most people admired about her. Vivienne Marche, publishing maven, had seen those qualities when Elli had applied for an internship with her. Elli had worked for Vivienne for five years at their San Francisco office before they both relocated back to Elli’s hometown to start the new magazine. Today, the magazine, a women-led political and social monthly, was hosting a lunch for Aldo Costanza, an American-Italian philanthropist billionaire who had recently relocated to Venice from Rome. Vivienne had told Elli that the man was thinking of investing heavily in the magazine. “It would mean the magazine could go international.” Vivienne was excited. Elli could see that. “It would mean I could send my top journalist abroad to dig out the stories she really wants to write,” Vivienne added, with a meaningful look at a

grinning Elli. “Well, in that case …” Elli chuckled, enthused by her boss’s excitement. Now, as Elli walked briskly through the frozen Venice streets, she was trying to compile in her head a list of stories she had wanted to go deep into and the possibilities that lay ahead. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t see the car as she walked across the road. Someone shouted a warning, and she looked up to see the car bearing down on her. She jumped back and slipped, crashing to the cold, hard ground and slamming her head against the stone. The car skimmed past her without stopping. For a second, dazed, she lay there, head whirling, until she felt someone crouch down beside her. “Are you all right?” Elli pushed herself into a sitting position, still stunned. A man peered down at her. “You’re bleeding, Bella.” He pulled a clean, white handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to her temple. “Should I call an ambulance?” Elli was horrified and tried to get up. “No, I’m fine. Thank you for stopping to help me. It was just a fall …” She swallowed hard when she saw the amount

of blood on the man’s handkerchief and her head whirled. “Sweet one, I think we should go get you checked out anyway …you might need stitches.” In one swift movement, he swept her up into his arms and was carrying her toward his huge, black Mercedes. Elli wanted to protest, but she couldn’t form the words. God, her head was killing her … damn, what if she’d cracked her skull? Today, of all days? Of anyone, Elli would hate to let Vivienne down; her boss was like her big sister as well as her mentor and her heroine. The man put her in the back of his car and got in beside her, calling an order to his driver. He cradled her in his arms. Elli felt her body get cold—was she in shock? It was just a fall, goddamn it …but her head whirled and she felt faint and nauseous. Her companion stroked her hair back from the wound. “Sweetheart, you must stay awake for me. What’s your name?” “Elliana.” “A name as beautiful as its owner.” He had a nice voice, she thought fuzzily. But now there were black spots in her vision and her chest felt tight.

“Elliana, don’t faint on me now …” His voice faded into the recesses of her memory as she slipped away into darkness.

E LLI WOKE on a gurney in a hospital room. She blinked a couple of times and felt pain sear through her skull. She moaned quietly, then heard a scrape of a chair on linoleum. “Elli? Welcome back.” Turning her head caused a jolt of pain that nearly drew the curtains back over her eyes once more. “Stay still,” the voice warned, coming closer until the face attached to it swam into view. Elli squinted, making out dark hazel eyes, stubble, and light brown hair cropped close to his head. He looked vaguely familiar. Somewhere at the back of her battered brain, she also registered that he was seriously good looking, but it hurt too much to put that into any kind of context. The man leaned down, bringing those warm eyes that much closer, and gently brushed her cheek with his knuckle. Heat flared through her for a moment, bright enough to dislodge the dizziness. “Stay still, Bella,” he repeated softly. “You have a

bad concussion.” “What happened?” she asked in confusion. “You were very nearly hit by a car. It could have been far worse, but you have a severe concussion, Bella,” he repeated. “They’ve stitched your head wound. You’ll be okay, but you’ll have to stay here for a day or two.” Elli sat up in horror, ignoring the pull of the I.V. tube in her arm. “No …no, I can’t. I have to work. I have to be there today.” She could feel herself starting to panic, and he sat on the side of her bed and took her cold hand in his large, warm one. Again, there was a pulse of heat that moved through her body like a slow-burning flame. “Sweet one, let me call your workplace—where do you work?” . “Il Mondo Italia,” she rasped. “We’re a ...” “Magazine, yes I know,” he said, grinning. “I’m a subscriber.” “You are?” He laughed. “Of course. And as you are Elliana, you must be Elliana Moretti. Your work is the reason I subscribe.” She gaped at him. “That’s not true.”

“Hand on my heart. Hi, Elliana Moretti …I’m Aldo Constanza.”

VIVIENNE MARCHE’ S eyes grew huge as she saw her best friend and top journalist, Elli, complete with a bandage wrapped around her head and a bruised, pale face, being escorted into the magazine’s offices by Aldo Constanza. Ordinarily, any unexpected appearance by Aldo would have been cause for scrambling in the office, but Vivienne presently had no interest in anything but her friend. “Elli!” She jumped out of her seat and rushed around to carefully embrace the woman who she called sister. “What happened?” Aldo greeted her warmly before Elli could say anything. “Vivienne, how wonderful to see you again. This little one insisted on bringing me today, despite her accident. Elli, please sit down before you fall down.” “Accident? What accident?” Vivienne demanded, easing Elli into a seat and hovering beside her. “She only just missed being struck by a car,” Aldo explained. “Her head took the brunt of her narrow escape.” “Why didn’t you call me?” exclaimed Vivienne in

horror, very nearly pulling Elli into a bearhug before realizing she might have other, unseen injuries. She contented herself instead with taking Elli’s hand and holding onto it tightly. Aldo nodded at the head bandage. “She was indisposed.” “The pavement has a dent in it,” Elli joked wearily. “No major damage done to this hard head.” In spite of her attempt at lightheartedness, Vivienne could see the embarrassment in Elli’s eyes. She pressed Elli’s fingers as Aldo continued. “She has a severe concussion, and I think she should have gone straight home from the hospital, but she insisted on bringing me here.” Vivienne’s heart warmed. That was just like Elli. She pressed her lips to Elli’s temple. “You are a peach,” she said. “But I’m sending you home right now, El. I’ll arrange a cab.” “No, please. I insist my driver take her home.” Aldo was firm, and so in a few minutes, Vivienne was tucking Elli into the warm backseat of Aldo Constanza’s limousine, lingering worriedly in the door to admonish, “You take as long as you need, El. I don’t want you back until you’re well.”

Elli smiled gratefully at her. “I’m so sorry about this, Viv.” “Don’t be silly.” Vivienne leaned in closer, “If anything, you’ve broken the ice with Constanza … it’s just a shame you had to do it with your head.” Elli chuckled at her boss’s grin. “Anything to help, boss.”

I T TURNED out billionaires were fussbudgets. Or, at least, this one was. Aldo Costanza insisted on carrying Elli upstairs. She barely had time to deal with the flare of heat, this time all through her body, before he was unlocking her door and asking where her bedroom was. It was too surreal, being tucked into her bed by a handsome billionaire, all the while her head spinning. She half expected him to take a seat beside her bed and sit some kind of guard as she slept, but instead, he apologized profusely, saying he had a meeting he couldn’t rearrange, but that he would check up on her soon. After more passionate apologies, he finally left, but not before making sure she had water, aspirin, and a phone within arm’s reach. Once he was gone, Elli lay in bed for a long while, but couldn’t sleep. The exhaustion was there, but it

warred with her ever-active mind. Even a concussion couldn’t stop Elli from overthinking things. She crawled out from under the covers that Aldo had fastidiously tucked around her, cranked up the heat, and made herself some tea—some kind of blend Vivienne said was good for relaxing. By the time the water boiled, her legs were wobbly and she was glad to curl up on the couch with her favorite blanket, listening to the wind outside her windows. Her apartment was tiny, but she didn’t care about that—the view from the windows over Venice’s Lagoon made it worth the squeeze. Resting her aching head against a pillow, she saw the ice and fog covering the gondoliers, jostling together at their moorings, the usually crowded streets almost empty. It would be Christmas soon, but if this weather held up, it would be a subdued event. Elli liked to walk the streets at night during the festive period—being alone in the world had never bothered her much. She would eat food from street vendors and soak in the atmosphere, thinking about her mother who had died when Elli was only eighteen. Her father had been long gone; Elli didn’t even know who or where he was. And her older brother, Enzo, had died the year previously from the same cancer that took their mother. Sadness touched Elli as Enzo filled her mind.

Nearly a decade older, he had been her hero— companion, teacher, protector—or at least, he had taught her how to protect herself. He had been an architect, designing some of the most beautiful hotels in Italy with his best friend, Indio. The sadness that Enzo’s memory always brought Elli was gently sidelined by a warm rush through her veins when she thought suddenly of Indio. Indio Navaro had been her first crush—her first love. She closed her eyes now and thought of his dark curls, his swarthy caramel skin, and his bright green eyes. She remembered the first time she had seen him when she was just nine and he was eighteen. God, he had looked like an Adonis, so beautiful, with huge eyes, a perfectly symmetrical face, and a hard, toned body. No teenage acne or awkwardness for Indio, and even at her young age, Elli had known she would never again see such a beautiful man in her life. And he was beautiful— handsome wasn’t strong enough word for Indio Navaro—not just physically perfect, but the kindest, sweetest, strongest man she had ever known. For his part, Indio had stayed true to the code—never fool around with your best friend’s sister—but he had adored Elli too and would spend hours with her, even when Enzo wasn’t there. They were the moon and the sun to each other. But then, when Elli was twenty, a couple of years

after her mother had died, something had happened between Enzo and Indio—something neither of them would ever talk about—and when Indio had come to say goodbye to Elli, her heart had been broken. “Please don’t go,” she had begged him. “I love you so much, Indio. I always have.” Indio had looked shattered, and for a moment, she had thought he might kiss her. Instead, he had leaned his forehead against hers, and to her astonishment, she had felt tears on his cheeks. “Elli Bella, I …” He had choked on the words and, not caring anymore about what was right, she had pressed her lips to his. “Tell me you love me …please, Indio, say it just once. I know you do. I know it in my soul …” Indio had grabbed her head and kissed her roughly, then pulled away, his hands dropping from her, his eyes closed. “I can’t. I’m sorry, cara mia, I can’t.” And then he was gone, and Elli had curled up into a little ball, her heart destroyed. When Enzo, pale and hollow-eyed came to find her, she hadn’t attacked him or blamed him. He was her brother after all. Indio didn’t love me enough, Elli told herself for

years, trying to mend her heart, but something had always told her that wasn’t the truth. But when Enzo had died, her chance of finding out what had really happened between him and Indio was gone. Indio had left Venice and gone to Rome. Elli made herself stay away from searching for him on the internet or reading about him in magazines. She knew he was a big deal in Rome and abroad, his property nous and artistic aesthetic making him a billionaire. He had dated a string of beautiful women and married and divorced a former Miss World within a year, but lately, had disappeared— gone to ground. Elli sighed and pushed the thoughts of Indio away. She was a master of that; it was just in quiet moments like this one that she wished he was here with her, watching old movies and cuddling under a blanket like back in the old days. In bed alone, sometimes Elli would think about what it might have been like to have sex with him, his big body covering her tiny one, his mouth on hers. You are twenty-eight and still behaving like a lovesick teenager. Maybe it was the concussion that made her feel so melancholy. She dragged her thoughts back to Aldo Constanza and smiled. What a sweetheart of a man. His gaze had been intense on hers a couple of times, and her stomach had curled, warming at being so obviously admired.

Her phone beeped from the bedroom. Grumbling, Elli emerged from her cozy nook in the corner of the couch, carrying her blanket with her. She made her way the short distance to the bedroom and read the text message.

YOU MAY BE HURTING , girl, but you are also a magician. Aldo Constanza is investing—and he’s investing BIG. I love you! Call me if you need anything! Viv xxx

E LLI SMILED and returned to the couch. Putting the phone on speaker so she could keep her hands curled around the mug before all the warmth of the tea dissipated, she dialed the office. “Hey, bruiser!” Vivienne’s voice was typically cheerful, but with an edge of worry. “I didn’t wake you up, did I? How’s the head?” Elli grinned, although her head ached badly now. “Better hearing that news. No, I wasn’t asleep.” “You should’ve been,” lectured Vivienne. “You’re supposed to be resting.” “You texted me,” Elli reminded her. She took a sip of the tea and grimaced, wishing she could

magically transport honey from the kitchen to the couch. “But trust me, Aldo tried to make sure I did.” “Aldo?” Vivienne repeated. “He carried me in.” Elli tried to gloss past that detail. “Oh, god, Viv, I’m so happy for y you—for the magazine. Thank god I didn’t jinx it.” “Far from it, El … don’t think you’re getting away without giving me all the dirt! But Constanza had one little request. That you do an interview with him for the magazine—an in depth, not a puff piece, don’t worry—when you’re better. I think you have an admirer, Elli. A rich, handsome sweetheart of an admirer.” Elli flushed with pleasure. “He wants me to interview him?” Vivienne sighed and laughed. “Trust you to focus on the work part—I’m telling you, that man wants to fu ...” “Vivienne Marche, you are over-excited,” Elli interrupted her, laughing and wincing at the corresponding twinge in her head. “Less than an hour ago, the guy was all but singing me a lullaby. Not exactly a precursor to a horizontal tango. Calm down.”

“I’m just saying …you need to get laid and there’s nothing like a sex-god billionaire to get your rocks off.” Elli shook her head, grinning, although the thought wasn’t exactly repulsive to her. Aching head or not, the shock of the accident had receded more than enough for her to fully realize that Aldo was gorgeous. “Viv, I’ll talk to him to arrange the interview when I get back.” “Um …” Vivienne suddenly sounded sheepish. “What? What did you do?” Elli knew Vivienne’s machinations of old, especially when it came to Elli’s love life. “Well, he kind of asked for your number, and I kind of gave it to him. I figured he rescued you, so … was I wrong?” Elli sighed. “No, it’s fine. He probably won’t call anyway.”

ALDO C ONSTANZA DID call that night, about eight p.m., while Elli was stubbornly trying to read in defiance of a headache that just wouldn’t completely go away and contemplating what to eat for her supper, seeing as her fridge was empty.

“How are you feeling, Elliana?” His voice was deep, sexy, and weirdly already familiar. She settled herself back against the pillows, smiling. Just because she hadn’t thought he’d call didn’t mean she hadn’t hoped. “I’m okay. Just a little tired now. Thank you for today, Mr. Constanza. I mean it.” “Please call me Aldo. Despite the circumstances and you being hurt, it was entirely my pleasure. Have you talked to Vivienne at all?” “I have, and she told me about your request. It would be my honor.” “Then it’s settled. Perhaps we can talk about it when you’ve recovered, but I also wanted to ask if I may take you to dinner tonight?” Elli blinked, glancing down at her ratty old pajamas, then catching a glimpse of her disastrous hair, which she’d only just revealed from beneath the bandage. “Tonight?” Aldo gave a soft laugh. “Blame Vivienne—she was fretting about you not having any food in your home. I take it that’s not unusual?” Elli didn’t know how to react to that. “Um, well, yes, that is true. Unless you consider breakfast cereal a meal.”

“I do not,” he chuckled. God, he had a sexy laugh. “But what am I thinking? You probably don’t feel like going out in your condition and this weather. May I be so bold as to suggest I bring dinner to you?” And for the life of her, Elli had no good reason to say no.

AN HOUR LATER , after she had panicked after hanging up the phone, dashing around the place, tidying it and herself, and she didn’t know why she had worried. He’d seen virtually everything already. Well … not everything. A loud knock on the door interrupted that particular train of thought. She hurried over and opened the door, taking in the vision of the crazy hot billionaire standing behind a stack of two large, steaming-hot pizzas. “One vegetarian and one pepperoni,” he greeted her. “I didn’t know if you eat meat.” “Oh, so Viv didn’t tell you everything?” Elli grinned at him, and he smiled somewhat sheepishly. “Sorry.” He eased the pizza boxes onto her little dinner table. “Have I railroaded you?” She put her hand on his arm—hey, any excuse to touch the —guy. “Not at all. I’m just kidding. Can I

take your coat?” Already, she thought of him as a tailored suit guy, so when he slipped out of his long coat to reveal a dark navy sweater and jeans, the navy bringing out the hazel in his eyes, she was taken aback—and impressed. He caught her expression and smiled. “You like my sweater?” No, actually, it’s you I like, she wanted to say. She breathed in his clean, woody scent and felt a pulse begin to beat between her legs. Aldo held her gaze, then smiled, stroking his hand on her cheek. God, his hands … “Whatever you are thinking, cara mia, I am thinking too. But I am aware you have a pretty severe concussion, so maybe, tonight, we should just eat.” Elli flushed, then giggled, shaking her head. On some men, it might have been presumption. With Aldo, it came across as devastating candor. No games, apparently. She liked that. “I’m sorry, I’m all over the place. Please, have a seat.” They ate most of the two pizzas as they chatted, and Elli began to feel much more relaxed. Aldo was fun, intelligent, and god, he was sexy, his big frame dominating her small couch. His arm lay across the

back of it, and she could feel the heat of his skin as his fingers lay inches from the back of her neck. He was easy to talk to as they discussed his business and his investment in the magazine. Elli was starting to feel excited about the forthcoming interview and told him so. He smiled. “I’m glad …but only when you are fully recovered, little one. Then, I hope, you will come to my home and we will do the interview there. Afterward, perhaps you would dine with me?” Elli blushed with pleasure. “I would like that very much.” Just before ten p.m., he announced it was time he left so she could get some rest. He kissed her hand, his warm lips seeming to linger over her skin, while Elli stood in the doorway, heartrate surging. “I don’t recall when I have spent such a pleasurable evening,” he said. She looked up at him, mesmerized by his eyes. “Me too. Thank you, Aldo. This day has been so much better than it deserved to be.” He touched a finger to her cheek and was gone. That night, for the first time in eight years, it wasn’t Indio who Elli dreamed of. And in the morning, a huge hamper of luxury food was waiting for her

outside her door, with the note: Just so you don’t starve while you recover, cara mia. I look forward to our next meeting. Aldo. In amongst the expensive gourmet food was a box of her favorite breakfast cereal.

A WEEK LATER , she was deemed by Vivienne to be fit enough to return to work, and two days later, she was being driven out to Aldo’s villa in Mira. As she approached, she gave a small gasp. The villa was huge and utterly Italian, but Elli had learned enough from her brother and Indio to know what was old and what was new. This villa was a recent build, which didn’t detract from its beauty one bit. Its features were simpatico with the Italian countryside around it, and although opulent, it shone with good taste. Elli’s heart was pounding even harder now. The design of it, the feel …it reminded her of the houses Indio and her brother had designed and built at the beginning of their partnership, albeit, on a much, much larger scale. This has to be one of Indio’s, she thought, and she felt tears welling to the surface. No. No, I will not ruin this by thinking about him,

she thought to herself fiercely, and when the car pulled up and Aldo came out to meet her with a smile on his face, she pushed all thoughts of Indio to the back of her mind. “Bella Elli, it has been too long,” he said, kissing her cheek and lingering just a little too long. Elli felt her body respond, but she reminded herself to act professionally and smiled back at him. “This is a stunning villa, Aldo.” Aldo beamed at her. “Thank you. I could give you the tour if you’d like.” “Shall we do the interview first? Get the work part out of the way?” Too late, she realized what that sounded like and blushed furiously. Aldo laughed. “That sounds …promising.” Later, Elli would be able to narrow it down to three particular moments when she knew she would be sleeping with Aldo Constanza that night. The first was when they were talking about his work with starving children in Uganda, and he was talking with such passion and commitment that it touched Elli’s heart. Here was a man unafraid to wear his heart on his sleeve. The second was when, after a delicious and luxurious dinner, they took a walk around his

grounds, and he took her hand, bringing the inside of her wrist to his lips and kissing it softly. The third was when, a moment after that, he’d turned to her and taken her in his arms, smoothing the hair away from her face. “Bella Elliana …I’m going to kiss you now, then I’m going to take you to my bed, undress you, and kiss every part of your delicious body.” Elli gasped a little, feeling her sex dampen and quiver at his coarse but sexy-as-all-hell words. His lips met hers, and they kissed, all passion and no hesitation. In a flash, they were in his bedroom and he was stripping her slowly, lingering over each piece of exposed skin until she was trembling with desire. He swept her onto the bed and knelt over her as he freed his cock from his jeans, stroking the length of it and enjoying her lust and admiration. “All this is for you, Elli Bella.” Elli didn’t have time to register what he’d called her before he thrust his cock deep inside her, hitching her legs around his waist and ramming his hips hard against hers. Elli’s body acted as if she had no control over it, her back arching as he fucked her, her belly pressing against his, and her

nipples so reacting so sensitively that when they brushed against his pecs, she screamed with pleasure. Aldo was a masterful, dominant lover who enjoyed pinning her to his bed, not letting her recover between orgasms, his face hard and focused as his cock thrust deeper and deeper inside of her. “Mio Dio, you are a beautiful woman. Mio Dio …” They came together, Elli gasping and moaning as Aldo groaned, pumping thick, creamy come deep inside her belly. He kissed her tenderly as they panted for breath. “Sweet Elli, you have made me so happy, so happy …” She smiled at him. “That was incredible, Aldo … just as I dreamed it would be.” Aldo looked boyish as he grinned in delight. “You dreamed of me?” “I did.” Elli kissed his lips, his neck, then made her way down his body and took his cock in her mouth, teasing the long shaft with her tongue, feeling it quiver and harden under her touch. Aldo, on his back now, was stroking her hair. “God, yes, Elli, that’s so good, so good …”

She brought him to near orgasm, then straddled him, impaling herself onto him with a soft moan. God, she wanted this man, his machismo, and his strength. She rode him hard, his hands squeezing and caressing her breasts, then stroking her belly, his thumb pressing deeply into the hollow of her navel. As the intensity built, Aldo flipped her onto her back and began to thrust harder and harder, almost violent in his need for her. Elli clung to him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. Aldo gripped her wrists and forced her hands onto the bed. This man likes being in control, Elli thought as another shattering orgasm ripped through her body. Aldo, almost frenzied now, bit down hard on her shoulder, and she yelped in surprise and pain as he came, shuddering and groaning, his seed shooting deep inside of her. “Are you mine, Elli?” She nodded, breathless, and Aldo took her clit into his mouth and made her come over and over until she begged him to stop, exhausted and sated. Aldo wasn’t nearly done yet. He covered her body with his, kissing her mouth and smoothing the damp hair away from her face. “If you only knew how much I wanted you the moment I saw you on that street.” He grinned and chuckled softly. “Even

covered in blood, you were beautiful.” Elli frowned a little. Was she too sensitive? Because that sounded a little weird. Aldo saw her expression. “I just mean, you could be covered in dirt or blood or anything, and I would still think you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Forgive me. I realize now what I said might have sounded strange.” Elli relaxed, her arms around his neck. Aldo Constanza had just fucked her into next week and her body felt strangely soft, as if all her limbs and bones had been liquified. “You’re forgiven. Aldo … it’s been the most incredible night.” He stroked a hand down the length of her. “You’ll stay the night?” She half-smiled. “I’m torn. Professionally speaking, I haven’t been at all professional.” They both laughed. “But the thought of leaving you naked in this bed to go home to my cold one …” He kissed her again, pushing her legs apart, his cock already hard again. “Then stay,” he said, thrusting into her. “Stay and let’s do this all night long …”

E LLI

WOKE A LITTLE BEFORE DAWN ,

her throat dry.

Aldo lay on his stomach next to her, his big arm thrown across her. She studied him for a long moment, her new lover. His features were made to look tense, she decided, and smoothed the crease between his eyes that made him look angry. She smiled as it immediately settled back into a line, then gently removed Aldo’s arm from around her waist. She slid from the bed, snagging his shirt and wrapping it around her body. She padded through the quiet villa, down to the large kitchen, and helped herself to a bottle of water from the vast, well-stocked refrigerator, grinning to herself at the difference between this one and her own. She even recognized some of the same foods Aldo had sent to her in the hamper. A man of good taste—of particular tastes. She went to the hallway and tried the doorway to one of the balconies. It opened, and she stepped out into the freezing cold night. The cold took her breath away, but it cooled her too-hot body. It had been a long time since she’d shared a bed with someone else, and it felt strange and a little claustrophobic. She started slightly as Aldo slid his arms around her waist. “You’ll catch your death out here,” he murmured into her ear, and she grinned, moving to turn in his arms. “No, stay like that,” he said, and slipped his hand between her legs, parting them. Elli gasped as he

thrust his cock into her from behind, his hand on her belly to keep her close as he fucked her. She rested her head back on his shoulder, panting for air. Her bare feet were freezing against the ice-cold stone of the balcony. “Bend over the balcony for me, Principessa. Put your feet on mine if they are cold.” She did both, loving the adventure of it and feeling him grip her hips tightly as he thrust his cock deeper and deeper into her. The cold stone bit into her breasts as she gripped the balcony, but she didn’t care. The sensations he sent through her body were exquisite. She heard him groan and felt him come, reveling in the feeling of his huge cock filling her. Aldo panted for air, then swept her up in his arms, carrying her inside. Just before they got to the bedroom, Elli saw a painting she hadn’t noticed earlier. “Wait.” She gazed up at it. The woman in the picture had an ethereal beauty—her dark brown hair was piled up on top of her head and her large brown eyes were soulful—but it was the sadness in them that took Elli’s breath away. She had known this sadness, felt this utter desolation and heartbreak …three times. “Who is she?” Aldo’s eyes were suddenly wary. “Her name was Yvetta. She was my lover a few years ago.” “What happened to her?”

Aldo looked away from her gaze. Elli touched his cheek lightly. “Aldo, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry—” “It’s all right.” He coughed, clearing emotion from his throat and looking back at her with obvious grief on his face. “She died. No, that doesn’t even cover it …she was murdered. By an enemy of mine.” “Oh my god, Aldo!” Elli said in shock. He nodded, putting her down and running a hand through his short hair. “He was obsessed with her and kept trying to steal her from me. When she wouldn’t go to him, he killed her on what would have been our wedding day.” Elli gave a horrified gasp. She touched Aldo’s face again, framing it with her hands. “God, Aldo …I’m so sorry. I can’t begin to imagine.” “I found her,” he said bleakly, looking up at the painting, his voice breaking. “I found her dead, in her wedding dress, covered in blood. My beautiful Yvetta …” Elli wrapped her arms around him and comforted him as Aldo tried to regain his composure. They stood for a while, just embracing, before Elli led him back to bed. They made love slowly this time,

tenderly, and when they were finally sated, Aldo laid his head on her chest and they slept.

THE NEXT DAY WAS A SATURDAY, thankfully, and when Elli opened her eyes it was already midmorning. The bed beside her was empty, and at the end of the bed, a fresh robe was placed, a note attached. Help yourself to anything you need, my sweet girl. I’ll be down in my study when you are ready. A. Elli smiled and went into the en-suite bathroom, which was as palatial as the rest of the rooms in this villa. Elli smiled to herself—Aldo Constanza did not do anything small …his business, his house, his lovemaking … Stepping into the shower, Elli felt relief as the warm water cascaded over her body. Soaping herself, she saw souvenirs of the night before written on her body; the imprint of Aldo’s teeth on her shoulder and bruises on her wrists and arms. There were bruises the shape of his fingertips on her hips. It didn’t bother her; they were marks of passion and desire, not cruelty or violence. She dressed quickly, stuffing her underwear into her purse, then went down to find Aldo.

He looked up as she came in and smiled. “Good morning, beautiful.” He stood to greet her, brushing his lips tenderly against hers. “How did you sleep?” “Wonderfully, thank you.” She looked at his open lap-top. “I don’t want to disturb you, though.” Aldo smiled. “It is unfortunate that I do have to work today. May I ask Umberto to drive you home?” Elli smiled. “Of course. Thank you. And thank you for last night.” He kissed her again. “May I see you again, Elli?” She smiled and nodded. “I would like that. But, Aldo, I do have to say …I don’t want this to interfere with my work. It is very important to me.” “I understand. I would never place any expectations on you, my sweet girl. Please, won’t you stay and have brunch with me before you leave? I’ll ask Umberto to bring the car around in an hour.” “If it won’t keep you from your work,” she said, but his hands were already snaking under her skirt and encountering bare skin. She grinned, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “I don’t put yesterday’s underwear on.”

With a feral growl, Aldo pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his lips rough against hers. He fucked her against the wall of his study, and it was almost animalistic the way he took her, pinning her hands above her head and thrusting deep and long into her cunt. *** An hour later, she was being driven through the snow back to her apartment. Before she got there, feeling energized and joyful, she decided she would go grocery shopping and asked the car to change directions. Wandering around the Christmas markets, she spent a leisurely afternoon shopping and didn’t notice how late it had gotten until the streets were emptying. Elli hauled her full bags back toward her apartment, contemplating what she might make with the fresh ingredients. It began with a prickle up her spine as she walked down a dark alleyway. Elli stopped and turned. Though an alleyway could suggest danger to some, this one was as familiar to Elli as any main road. She’d never felt any kind of fear while walking through it, regardless of the time of day. But now, she felt as if someone were watching her. She sucked in a breath and checked every dark corner she could see. Nothing. Not even a breeze. Picking

up her pace, she walked quickly back to her apartment., Relocking the door behind her, she put her grocery bags down. Walking into her own home, she should’ve immediately felt secure, but the feeling persisted. Hesitating just a second, she grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer. Her apartment was only three rooms, but she checked everywhere she could think of. Nothing and no one. Elli shook her head. She had never been one to be paranoid, so why now? Was it just the seismic shift in her life from a week ago? A night ago? “It must be that,” she said aloud to herself, feeling her body finally relax, and went to unpack her groceries. She had just finished cleaning up the kitchen and was getting into bed as her cell phone rang. “Hello, sweet girl. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay?” Elli smiled. “I’m good, Aldo, thank you. I’ve had a very decadent afternoon and stocked my refrigerator.” Aldo laughed. “I’m glad to hear it, although I do wish I was with you. I realized tonight what a big, empty house this is.”

Elli felt a little uncomfortable. “There’ll be other nights, Aldo.” “Oh, I know, sweet girl. What are you doing now?” “Just about to go to bed.” “Naked?” He sounded like a hopeful little boy, and she laughed. “Of course.” “Hmm, now I’m beginning to visualize that, and it’s very, very nice …” His voice dropped low. “If I were with you, I’d be running my hands down your soft skin, cupping your beautiful breasts …will you do that for me, cara mia, and pretend it’s me touching you?” Elli closed her eyes and did as he asked, enjoying the sensuality of his voice purring down the phone. She stroked her hand down her body, over her breasts. “What else would do you do to me?” “I would circle your bellybutton with my thumb, gently, over and over until I could feel your belly quiver under my touch.” Elli moaned softly, turned on by his words and the feel of her hand on her belly. “Then lower, my love, down into your sex, your delicious tight little cunt. I would caress your clit until it was hard and so

sensitive that you wanted to scream. Spread your legs wide, my baby, and stroke yourself for me.” Elli gasped as she obeyed him. “Aldo …Aldo …are you touching yourself?” He gave a low, amused chuckle. “You better believe it, sweetheart. Now, I want you to imagine my cock is sliding into you, so slowly that you get annoyed with me and scream at me to fuck you …” “Wait,” Elli gasped, panting. She reached over to her nightstand and grabbed her vibrator. She pushed it inside of herself, moaning as she imagined it was his cock. “Good. That’s good, sweet girl. My cock is inside you now, filling you, plowing deep inside you again and again until you see stars in your eyes …Elli?” Almost delirious, Elli gasped her “Yes?” “Are you free tomorrow? Can I come see you?” Elli came as she sighed, “Yes, yes, yes …” Aldo gave a satisfied laugh. “Good …tomorrow, then?” Elli chuckled, still catching her breath. “Tomorrow, Aldo.” All traces of her earlier fear had long fled as she

said goodnight and fell straight asleep, thoroughly sated.

TWO WEEKS later—two long weeks full of every manner of fucking, whether or not Elli and Aldo were in the same —room—Vivienne met with Elli for lunch. After an enjoyable thirty minutes spent discussing everything under the sun, Vivienne finally got around to work talk. Only, because Vivienne was Vivienne and her radar missed nothing, work had a double meaning. “Girl, this article is one of your best. Hands down. How’d you get him to open up so much?” Elli could feel her face burn a little, thinking of all the different kinds of opening up she and Aldo had been doing. “He’s very … loquacious when you get him on the right topic. His work in Uganda, his love of art. He even told me some stuff about his personal life, but I felt it didn’t add anything to the article and it would be taking advantage of a personal tragedy.” . “You’re sleeping with him,” Vivienne said bluntly, not asking. Hiding things from her best friend was an impossibility. “Maybe …”

Vivienne grinned from ear to ear. “Well, hallelujah. So, are you two an ‘item?’” Elli laughed then, taking a sip of wine. “Yeah, Grandma, we’re a-courtin’. No, I think, for me, it’s just a pleasant fling.” “And what about for him?” Vivienne pressed, pushing her plate back and waving a waiter over to remove it before refilling her glass. “Aldo Constanza doesn’t strike me as a man to do things by half. You sure he doesn’t think you two are serious?” Elli shrugged. “We haven’t talked about it, but, Viv, I won’t let it affect my work here, I swear. I’m scared that if I get too involved and it ends badly, it could mean Aldo withdrawing his investment.” Vivienne looked vaguely horrified. “Elli, your sex life is your business. Don’t let Aldo dictate things like that.” “Oh, he’s not, Viv. I’m sorry if it came out that way. I mean, my work is my passion. That’s the most important thing to me.” Studying her intently, Vivienne covered Elli’s hand with her own. “Would you say that if we were talking about Indio Navaro?” A bolt of pain shot through Elli, leaving her feeling

like she’d been ambushed. “But we’re not.” Immediately remorseful, Vivienne rounded the table and sat down beside Ellie, hugging her close. “Oh, sweetheart. I say this is as your friend and because I love you. It’s been eight years, Elli. You have to start looking to the future. Indio’s not coming back, however much you keep your heart hidden from everyone else. Aldo Constanza is gorgeous, delicious, and he believes in your work.” Elli sat back, looking away for a second to regain her composure. “I know, and you’re right about … Indio.” Why did it still hurt so much to say his name? It was like a thousand swords being plunged into her heart. Elli rubbed her eyes and Vivienne smiled. “If I did that, I’d look like a panda,” she said. “I will never stop being jealous of the fact you don’t have to wear makeup, girl. Just don’t throw this thing with Aldo away because of an old attachment, no matter how much Indio once meant to you. That’s all I’m saying.” “He didn’t once mean something to me,” Elli muttered, reaching for her empty wine glass just to do something with her hands. “He still does, Viv.” “And he always will, I know. But you can temper that meaning so that you still have a chance at a

meaningful relationship, relationship.”

Elliana.

A

real

“As opposed to a ghost one.” Elli nodded, stifling a sigh. “Yes. Yes. I know.”

ALDO CAME to meet her as Elli was leaving the office. He kissed her passionately, not caring who saw them on the crowded street. “Mm, I’ve missed you today, Elli Bella.” Elli hated that he called her that—it had been Indio’s nickname for her. Then she pulled herself up—so what? It was as sweet a name for her and Indio didn’t own it. He would never say those words again, so what did it matter? She smiled up at Aldo, stroking the short hair over his ear. “Shall we spend tonight at my place? We always seem to be going to your home.” Aldo tightened his arms around her. “Ah, but there’s more space at mine. Come back with me, Elli. I have a surprise for you.” Elli pushed away from the annoyance she felt. Every time she had seen Aldo since that first time when they had eaten pizza together, it had been assumed that they would spend the night at his

villa. Did he think her place wasn’t suitable for a man such as himself? She didn’t want to argue, though, not out in public like this, so she agreed, giving him a half-smile as he took her hand and led her to his car. At his villa, he placed his hands over her eyes and then steered her into his vast living room. “Open.” Elli opened her eyes and gave a delighted laugh. A huge Christmas tree stood, its lights twinkling in the dim light of the living room. “Oh, Aldo, it’s so beautiful.” He kissed the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. “I remember you telling me that you missed having Christmas with your family and that your apartment was too small for you to have a tree. So I thought of this.” Elli felt tears in her eyes and felt badly for her earlier irritation. She touched Aldo’s face, then went to examine the tree. She breathed in the fresh scent of pine and admired the glitter and sparkle of the gold decorations. It was opulent, extravagant, and exquisitely decorated—a far cry from when Enzo and Indio used to haul in a bedraggled tree from the garden and make paper decorations for it. Elli knew that it was improbable that Aldo had decorated this tree himself, but it was still a thoughtful gesture.

She felt his hand on her back. “You like it?” She nodded, turning to kiss him. “It’s beautiful.” He took her face in his hands, studying her eyes. “It pales in comparison to you, beautiful girl.” His lips touched hers and Elli sank into the kiss, Aldo’s hands roaming over her body leisurely before his fingers pulled at the zipper of her dress. She grinned at him as the dress fell to the floor, and Aldo smiled back, pulling her to him roughly, so her belly curved against his shirt. “There is no comparison when I see your body like this, except for when …” And he unclasped her bra and drew her panties down. “You should always be naked, Elliana Moretti. The world would thank you. I have a gift for you.” He bent down and picked up a box, giftwrapped in silver and gold with an off-white bow. Carefully, Elli peeled the paper away, wanting to save it for no reason other than the memory. The box beneath matched the wrapping paper, metallic colors gleaming in the low light as Elli slid her thumbs into an indentation on each end and popped the lid off. She drew in her breath at the incredible necklace embedded in soft velvet, white gold and diamonds glistening at her like the gleam in Aldo’s eyes when she looked up to thank him “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, lifting it out and

starting to put it to her neck, then stopping in confusion as she realized that there was a lot more to the opulent strand than she had initially thought. Smiling, Aldo reached for the piece of jewelry. “It’s a body chain. Here let me put it on for you.” He put the delicate chain over her head, the light metal feeling cool across her bare skin, and crisscrossed it between her breasts, over her belly, and between her legs. Elli looked down at herself in amazement; she had to admit it looked good against her caramel skin, the diamonds twinkling in the light of the Christmas tree’s own illuminations. Aldo stepped back and admired her body. “Wow. Just wow …Elli, you have the body of a goddess …” Elli smiled, feeling very sensual now and completely sexy in this man’s presence. Aldo quietly swept her off of her feet and lay her on the thick carpet before stripping off his tie. “I’m going to touch you now, Elli, and caress you until you beg for my cock …but I want to make you shiver in anticipation and the best way to do that is …” He wound his tie around her eyes, blindfolding her. Elli shivered straight away, feeling vulnerable, and she heard Aldo give a low chuckle. “That’s right, Elliana …you’re at my mercy.”

Her breath hitching and trembling, she waited for his touch.

ALDO GAZED down at the beautiful woman on his carpet and smiled. This is what he had wanted-having her helpless, desperate for his touch. He began by kissing her lips and throat, then trailing his lips across her collar bones, taking each nipple into his mouth and teasing the small bud of each, stroking his hand down her soft belly and between her legs, then stopping just before he reached her clit, teasing and tormenting her. He stripped off his clothes, hefting the weight of his cock in his hand as it hardened at the sight of her. He lay down, taking her hands and pinning them above her head, his body covering hers, his weight on her tiny frame. “You are mine tonight, Elliana.” Elli gasped as he began to push his cock into her, then withdrew, doing it again and again until she nearly screamed with frustration, then thrust it in deep, pushing her legs apart until he knew her hips were objecting, sore and burning. Good. In the morning, he wanted her to ache and to feel the aftermath of the way he was going to fuck her tonight. Feel it in every part of her delicious body.

As his thrusts began to get hard and deeper, he gathered her to him, his mouth on her lips, her throat, his teeth biting her shoulders, her breasts. Elli clung to him as his lovemaking became almost frenzied and he heard her give a small cry of pain as he rammed his cock deeper inside her, but he ignored it. She was his and his alone. He came, shuddering and groaning her name as she panted beneath him. He kissed her tenderly, stroking her clit until she too came. He rolled off her and propped himself up on his elbow to watch her as she caught her breath. He pushed the blindfold from her eyes and studied them. “Principessa, was that not good for you?” Elli nodded, but he could see wariness and hesitation in her eyes. “It was, Aldo …thank you.” He laughed. “You’re thanking me for sex?” Elli chuckled too, running her hand over her face. “Sorry, I’m just a little dazed.” “Do you feel well?” “Oh, yes, fine. Just a little …I’ve never had sex like that before and it …scared me a little. The intensity. Being blindfolded.” She chewed her bottom lip nervously as she looked up at him. Aldo frowned. “You’re not scared of me, surely?”

He leaned in and kissed her lips softly. “You need never be afraid of me, sweet one.” But Elli didn’t look convinced, and Aldo decided that he needed to be tender from now on. “I’m sorry if I frightened you, Elli. I had not thought that it might be too much, but now I can see it was. Please don’t be scared.” She relaxed a little, half-smiling at him. “I’m just not as experienced as some women you might have dated. I’m a solitary creature by nature, Aldo. I have never felt the need to be coupled-up, or to always be in a relationship. The men I have slept with have always been good friends first. With you, it’s different.” “We’re not friends?” He felt a little stung and Elli touched his face. “Of course we are, Aldo. I meant those other men were friends of long-standing, who just happened, at different moments, to be the right guy at the right time. You and I, we had an unusual start.” Aldo smiled at her, brushing his lips against hers. “Ours was romantic.” “Yeah,” Elli looked at him askance, then laughed, “Concussions are so sexy.” He grinned. “You know what I mean.”

She relented. “I do.” Reaching for another box, this one not wrapped, Aldo pressed it into Elli’s hands. “This gift is more practical,” he whispered in her ear, nibbling at it as she mildly protested what she deemed his ‘extravagance,’ then laughing when the box was open, revealing a simple white satin robe. “I thought you liked me to wander around naked,” she teased, kissing him in thanks. “I do,” he assured her, running his hands over her bare body once more. “But occasionally you might get chilly. I wouldn’t want that …” He made sure, for the next hour or so, that she was anything but.

L ATER , after they had dinner, they sat together, drinking scotch and watching the tree lights twinkle. Aldo stroked Elli’s face and was quiet for a while. “Elli, spend Christmas with me. I hate to think of you alone in that tiny apartment. Spend it with me here, and we will eat too much food, drink too much champagne, and watch cheesy movies.” Elli half-smiled at him. “Are you sure? What about your family?”

Aldo sighed. “My father will be skiing with his wife in Austria; my younger brother, Antonio, is at college in the United States and does not intend to beg around his boring older brother. So, you see, I’m as alone as you.” He looked playfully mournful, but Elli felt stung by his words. Was she really that pathetic? She rubbed her forehead, trying to stave off a headache. She occasionally still got one in the aftermath of the concussion, but this one felt different. “Are you all right?” Always watching. The thought hit Elli, but she brushed it away. Don’t be unfair, girl. He’s just concerned. “A headache. Maybe I should go home.” He kissed her cheek and looked at her in concern. “Nonsense. Look, I’ll get some aspirin for you, and some water, and you can go lie down.” When she was alone, Elli stared at the fire that Aldo had lit earlier, her emotions in turmoil. Was she just freaking out because it looked like she was about to embark on a relationship, whether she liked it or not—and she’d always studious avoided any type of commitment? Vivienne’s words came back to her. Indio is gone,

has been gone, for eight years. He’s not coming back. “I know, I know,” Elli murmured to herself and scrubbed at her face with her hands. She wasn’t being fair to the lovely man in whose house she sat and in whose bed she experienced great sex and tenderness. Earlier, she had wanted to run when he got too intense, but she had talked herself down from it. It hadn’t been violent or degrading, just more forceful than she was comfortable with. Maybe that’s what it feels like when it’s not a fuck of convenience, she told herself. Because how would you know otherwise, Moretti? She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the headache to go away. A moment later, she felt a cold, damp towel being pressed against her forehead. It felt so good, she had to smile. “You are the sweetest man,” she said softly, and Aldo responded by kissing her softly on her lips. “Here, sweet girl, take these.” He dropped a couple of aspirin in her hand and gave her the glass of water. “You should go lie down.” Elli opened her eyes and smiled at him. “If you come with me.” Aldo smoothed her hair. “Always.”

They lay in bed, talking quietly, Aldo’s hand stroking her face until she felt herself drifting off to sleep, her head still pounding. The nightmare began as sweet memories of her and Indio and Enzo, down at Indio’s mother’s farmhouse in Tuscany, the summer heat, and picking olives in the grove. Indio teasing her, chasing her with a spider in his hand down the hill until they were both breathless, laughing and collapsing together. Indio plucking a bloom from the field of wild flowers and winding it around her finger. His lips were soft against hers. “Sposami?” Marry me? Elli found herself in a white dress before she could even say yes, drifting down the hallway of Aldo Constanza’s home. She was confused now …why was she here, of all places? Was it still Indio she was marrying? She pushed open the two huge, white doors in front of her to see an altar and Indio waiting for her at the end of the aisle. As she moved toward him, she saw her brother, her Enzo, step in front of her. “Don’t do this, Elli, please. He’s not who you think he is …he’s dangerous.” “I love him, Enzo. I’ve always loved him.” Her brother’s image faded away, and she turned,

smiling at her groom. “Listen to your brother.” Another voice behind her. She turned. Yvetta, herself in a wedding dress, but with the hilt of a knife protruding from a huge blood stain on the bodice. Yvetta smiled, as beautiful as in Aldo’s painting. “He did this to me, Elli. He will do it to you too.” Elli shook her head. “You don’t know him like I do …he isn’t capable.” Yvetta disappeared, and she was left alone with Indio. He took her hands and led her up the stairs toward a faceless priest who began to read the marriage ceremony. “If any person should have an objection …” “Yes.” A man’s voice, broken and full of grief. Elli turned to see Aldo staggering up to the altar, heartbroken, his face streaming with tears. “Please, Elli …don’t marry him …he’ll destroy you like you’ve destroyed me. Please …” Elli closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I did love you for a time. I did.” When she opened, Aldo was gone and she was married. Her new husband looked down at her. “Come with me, my beautiful Elli.”

Elli followed Indio into the hallway. In a flash, Indio cuffed her around the head, hard. Elli went down, confused and shocked. She looked around and the blood froze in her veins. The knife Indio was holding was huge, lethal. Oh, god, no … “I’m sorry, Elli, my beautiful Elli, but you know it has to end this way, don’t you?” He walked slowly toward her, and she started to crawl backward. He smiled down at her, his eyes soft. “I asked Aldo to come here, to see if you would be tempted, to see if you were true to me,” he said. “I had to get him here, so that you could be tested, my darling. And you failed. You fell in love with Aldo Constanza and let him put his hands on you.” He crouched next to her and grabbed her wrists, winding a rope around them. “He will find you here, stabbed to death. It will destroy him, and that’s all I want. Well, apart from seeing you die and your beautiful skin split under my knife. I’m going to butcher you, my darling, put my knife into your belly over and over until you are dead. Right now, Elli …” Elli kicked out and caught him hard on the knee. Indio went down, howling, and Elli flipped over and started to pull herself away from him. She

couldn’t believe this. Indio, her beloved Indio, a killer. It wasn’t enough. Indio recovered and plunged the knife into the small of Elli’s back. Elli cried out in agony, and laughing, Indio stabbed her again, an inch away from the first wound. Elli gasped for air as Indio flipped her onto her back and ripped open her dress. Elli’s back arched as he drove the knife into her, pain ripping through her as he stabbed her again and again. Elli was losing consciousness from the pain. “Stop,” she whispered, weakening. “Stop. I’m dead …” But Indio’s bloodlust wasn’t sated. He stabbed her again, smiling as she moaned in agony. Hot, sticky blood pumped out of her belly. Indio leaned over and kissed her mouth. “This is even better than marrying you might have been. Enzo knew the truth. Why do you think he warned me away from you all those years ago? Yvetta—poor, sweet Yvetta, loving me while knowing I could never love anyone but my Elli—still believing it when I put this very knife into her. You might call poor Yvetta a practice run.” No. No, she couldn’t believe this. She wouldn’t believe her Indio was a killer—and yet …it had

always lingered in his beautiful eyes. The violence. Had she mistaken it for passion? “Why?” she whispered with the last of her strength as the last of her blood left her body. “I love you, only you, Indio.” Indio smiled. “And you always will, for eternity, my love …” And he slid the blade between her ribs, into her heart …

“NO !” Elli screamed, bolting up in bed, then scrambling across the dark room. She tripped on something or other and went sprawling, nearly striking her head against a wall before she caught herself. Drenched in cold sweat, she trembled as she watched a figure rise in the bed a few feet away, broad shoulders turning toward her. “Elliana?” She relaxed slightly at Aldo’s familiar voice, but not completely. Tension still sang through her, making every muscle ache. “Elli?” he said again, getting out of bed and approaching her. Immediately, she stiffened against the wall, feeling the knife in her body and smelling her own blood.

“Elli,” he murmured, stopping a few feet away and crouching. “Cara mia, what is it?” The tenderness in his voice drained some of the terror from her veins. She moved hesitantly toward Aldo and he closed the narrow gap between them, his face wracked with shock and concern as he put his big, strong arms around her, not to hurt her, but to comfort and love. “Sweet girl, what is it? You’re safe here, you’re safe …please, calm down, Elli.” She rode out the panic attack, breathing deeply and resting against his solid body. His lips were on her forehead as he stroked her back, whispering soft reassurances. “I’m sorry,” she managed eventually. “It was a nightmare. God. Horrible, and stupid, and not real.” Thankfully, he didn’t press her for details. She was sweating, but shivering violently. Aldo swept his hand onto her forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up.” He lifted Elli back into bed, and she was glad of it because she really was starting to feel sick, the nightmare receding in the face of real pain. Aldo leaned down to kiss her gently and drew back at the expression of agony on her face. “I’m calling a doctor,” he said firmly, and Elli didn’t have the

strength to protest.

ALDO ’ S BILLIONS commanded the highest level of service. The doctor arrived within the hour and wasted no time examining Elli and prescribing much-needed pain relief. While she rested, waiting for the pills to take effect, he spoke to Aldo just outside the room. Shortly, Aldo returned, sat on the edge of the bed, and held her hand. “Better, darling?” “Much.” Her eyes followed his lips as he pressed them to the inside of her wrist. “The doctor gave me the good stuff. What did he say?” “Post-concussion syndrome,” Aldo told her. “It should resolve itself in a few months, but he wants to do a CT, just to make sure nothing more insidious is going on.” “Can this really happen from a fall?” she asked. “I didn’t think it was that bad …” He laughed humorlessly. “Elli, I’m the one who picked you up after that fall. You bled all over me on the way to the hospital. It was bad, sweet girl. Trust me. I’ll set up an appointment for the scan in the next couple of days. And don’t give me that look. I’m not dictating, love. I’m taking care of

you.” Elli wrapped her fingers around his big hand. “I know. I know. But I’ve already missed enough work—” “I called Vivienne—” he held up a hand, forestalling her immediate protest. “I knew she’d want to know, even if you might not have told her. She said to tell you that there are only a few days before you’re off for the Christmas break anyway. You should take the time off and call her to let her know you’re improving.” “Post-concussion syndrome,” Elli muttered, shaking her head and immediately regretting it. He was just trying to help. She knew that. Why was she reacting so moodily? She reached for her iPad and batted Aldo’s hands away as she started to do some fast research. After a few minutes of scanning different pages, she sighed and put the iPad aside. “This explains a lot.” “What does?” “The symptoms list anxiety and irritability. If you knew me better, Aldo, you’d know that I’m pretty easy-going, but lately, I’ve felt on edge.” He smiled gently. “I know you better than you think, Elliana. And I had noticed, sweet girl.”

She squeezed his hand guiltily. “I’m sorry, Aldo. I never meant to make you feel badly.” “Not at all …it’s just, Elli, I’m in very great danger of falling in love with you,” he confessed. “And somehow, it has seemed that you hold part of yourself back from me. I never want to make you feel obligated—so all I ask is that you’re honest with me about how you feel.” Elli nodded, and for a few moments, she was silent. Finally, she decided it was time to confess. He’d been nothing but good to her and holding secrets back from him felt increasingly wrong. “Aldo, for a long time now, I’ve been stuck in a rut. I loved someone deeply. Entirely. It’s been eight years, and he still haunts my dreams—and now my nightmares. He broke my heart, Aldo. Shattered it.” If she’d been afraid Aldo might react jealously— and she realized belatedly that she’d been somewhat worried about that, though he’d never shown a single jealous tendency yet—he calmed those fears immediately by sitting quietly and calmly, letting her speak, his expression betraying nothing but compassion. “He was the moon and the sun to me,” Elli went on, choking up a little. She was grateful for the reassuring pressure from Aldo’s fingers on her hand, guiding her through the memories. “It’s been

eight years and I don’t want to feel that way anymore.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “That’s as honest as I can be at this moment, Aldo. I love being with you, as a friend and as a lover. You are the first person since him who has broken down even some of my defenses. I can’t promise I’ll get there quickly, but I can promise to try. I do have feelings for you. I really do.” “As I do for you. Thank you for being so honest, Elli.” Aldo bent his head and kissed her. Then he pulled off his clothes and slid into bed with her. “Just to cuddle, don’t worry,” he said, as she settled comfortably into his arms. “I’ll buy that you do actually have a headache.” Elli chuckled. “Which is getting better, by the way.” “Oh, really?” “Really.” She tilted her head back so he could kiss her. Aldo smoothed her hair back from her face, studying her. “Still, I think you better get some sleep, baby. We have plenty of time.” He told her what Vivienne had said. “So I’m going to ask again, but I won’t be offended if you say no. Spend Christmas and New Years with me. I promise, as soon as you’re feeling

one hundred percent well, we will have a riot together. There are a few parties I’ve been invited to, which I would love for you to attend as my partner, if that suits you. And if not, we have the world at our fingertips, Elli. Anything, anywhere.” Elli smiled at him. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care what we do.” Her heart warmed when she saw the delight in his eyes. He is lovely, Elli thought now. Why the hell am I holding onto the ghost of what might have been, when this man is offering me the world? Elli fell asleep locked in his arms, feeling something had shifted in her soul. Yes, she would try to be the woman Aldo thought she was, for him and for herself. Vivienne had been right. It was time.

I T WAS Christmas night and Elli and Aldo had finally stopped eating, lying with full bellies on his couch. Elli was groaning. “I seriously haven’t eaten that much in years,” she laughed and moaned as Aldo patted her bare stomach. “Don’t. I’ll explode.” “Sexy,” Aldo said and laughed as she looked at him askance. “Elli, I’d like to thank you.”

Elli looked at him in amazement. “You thank me? Aldo, look at this place. Look at what you’ve given me.” She held up her wrist with the elegant and delicate diamond bracelet he had given her that morning, along with a host of other gifts. “You have given me something I thought lost to me. A family Christmas.” Aldo looked delighted, but he also shook his head. “You don’t understand—Christmas for me, for the last few years, has been …painful. Dark. You see, Yvetta was born on Christmas Day.” “Oh, Aldo, I’m sorry.” “No, you see? You have brought the light back into my life and into the holidays. You, Elli, have given me more than I ever thought possible. Oh, I’ve dated a few women since Yvetta died, but none could come close to you, my love.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Elli, I told you a few days ago I was in danger of falling in love with you. These last few days have made me realize …I’m no longer in danger. I am in love with you.” Ellis eyes filled with tears and she looked away. Aldo turned her face back to him. “Hey, hey. I don’t expect or want you to feel the same until you do. There’s no pressure, but I had to tell you that. I love you, Elliana Moretti.”

Hot tears flooded down her cheeks as she kissed him. “Aldo …I am changing. I can feel it, and you’re the reason. I’m not there yet, but I’m starting to believe I will be. When I tell you I love you, I want it to be the absolute truth. But it’s only you, now, Aldo. Only you.” It was only a partial lie, but Aldo seemed satisfied, grinning as he kissed her. “If only we hadn’t been so gluttonous, I would take you on this couch right now.” She grinned. “Remember the time I was out on the balcony? I wouldn’t mind reliving that, Mr. Constanza.” Aldo laughed. “Kinky girl. Just how kinky do you get, Ms. Moretti?” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “What did you have in mind?” “Hmm, how would you feel about restraints?” Elli nodded slowly. “We could do that.” “Or perhaps we should invite someone to join us.” Elli’s eyes opened wider. “A threesome?” “What do you think? If we’re getting real here, one of my fantasies is to watch you getting fucked by another man—as long as I could join in afterward,

of course.” Elli thought about it for a long moment. “If it would turn you on, I wouldn’t be against it. Who did you have in mind?” Aldo adjusted himself so he could study her reaction. “A professional. Someone who can be trusted to be discreet.” “We’re really talking about this, huh?” Elli was getting turned on now. Aldo shifted, so he was on his knees, between her legs. He started to unbutton her jeans as he talked. “A young man. I’d ask him to undress you slowly so I could film your delectable body as he revealed each piece of skin.” He tugged her jeans off and then pulled her t-shirt over her head. Elli grinned at him as he reached behind her to unclasp her bra, then took her nipple in his mouth greedily, sucking and teasing. His fingers were on her belly, stroking a circle around her deep navel. He smiled up at her as he released her nipple and moved to the other. “I would tell him to suck on your nipples as he fingerfucked your bellybutton. Meanwhile, I would fuck your perfect ass, fingering your clit until you were begging for your sweet cunt to be filled.” He was sliding her panties down and then his mouth was on her clit, sucking and biting gently as Elli

shivered and moaned. He paused for breath and smiled up at her. “Then I would ask him to fuck you, hard and rough, as I film his cock plunging in and out of your vagina.” He slid two fingers into her damp cunt, then, and Elli writhed with pleasure. “Yes, yes, Aldo …” A third finger slid inside her and she bucked against his hand. “Aldo, please, I want your cock. I need your cock inside me.” Aldo unzipped his pants and pulled his tumescent cock out, hard and quivering with arousal. “You want this, pretty girl?” She nodded, and removing his hand, he obliged, fucking her hard as they began to describe kinkier ways to fuck. Aldo pinned her hands above her head as he tumbled her off the couch, onto the carpet. “I would love to see this incredible body in a leather harness,” he said, clamping her legs around him and thrusting deep inside her. “There’s just something about seeing you bound and helpless …you weren’t happy with the blindfold, but what if you could see what I was about to do to you, but you were still helpless to stop it? We could role play …you could be the political prisoner. I could be your torturer …I mean in a way you enjoyed,” he added, seeing her eyes widen in surprise. “Nothing dangerous.”

Elli relaxed, and they made love until they were both breathless and sated.

THEY GOT to live out one fantasy a few nights later. Aldo brought Elli to a New Year’s Eve gala benefit held in one of the city’s beautiful art museums. He introduced Elli to the man who had organized the gala, Maceo Bartoli, Venice’s most celebrated art dealer. Elli liked the man immediately; his merry eyes and sweet smile belied the handsome face. With a pang, she realized mid-conversation that he reminded her so much of Indio that her chest began to hurt. Indio before the darkness, before he had left her. Maceo, his dark curls highlighted with silver, introduced Elli to his wife, Orianthi, a darkhaired beauty who had as much mischief in her eyes as her husband. Ori bore Elli off to grab some drinks from the waiters who glided gracefully and discreetly around the gathering. Ori took an orange juice for herself, nodding down to her swollen belly. “This one won’t let me drink for another three months.” She glows, Elli thought, warming to the other woman. “Is it your first?” Ori shook her head, grabbing a canape from a tray and shoving it into her mouth in a way that Elli

approved of. “No, we have a son too. Dario. He’ll be eight soon—a charmer just like his dad. How long have you and Aldo been together?” “Just a couple of months. It’s early days. Have you known him long?” “A while, but not well. He’s kind of private. We don’t see him out much. He’s a home boy, I think, especially since his fiancée died. Awful, that was. I know something about being stabbed, so when Maceo met him, just after Yvetta died, Maceo told him about our history. I think it helped to talk to someone who knew what it was like.” “Maceo was stabbed?” Ori shook her head. “No, I was. By a psychotic asshole who thought woman were possessions. But I nearly died, and Maceo went through hell. At least I had morphine. So he could relate to how Aldo felt. I hope it helped Aldo come to terms.” She smiled at Elli. “Sorry, this is morbid. Let’s change the subject. Are you in love with Aldo’s home? I have such envy—not that Maceo wouldn’t build one for me if I asked, but still. Whoever designed and built it for Aldo was a genius.” Elli felt her chest clench a little, but she asked the question anyway, keeping her tone casual. “Do you know who the architect was?”

Ori shook her head and leaned in conspiratorially. “I don’t, but I heard he was some kind of player. Don’t quote me on this, because I don’t know for sure, but there were rumors that Yvetta was sleeping with him and that he may have had something to do with her murder. Of course, it was never proved and her murder is unsolved still. Hey, are you okay?” Elli had paled. It couldn’t be Indio. It couldn’t. He would never hurt another person …would he? Her nightmare came back to her and she shivered. She tried to smile at Ori. “I’m fine, honestly. Just such a lot of pain to cope with …I just feel for Aldo.” “I know. Hey,” Ori said, apparently wanting to distract her, “You’re a journalist, right? I read your interview with Aldo and was inspired to read some of your other stuff. You’re really talented.” Elli flushed with pleasure. It meant a lot to her that this lovely woman liked her work. “Thank you, Ori. You’re very kind. If you ever wanted to tell your story, please think of me.” Ori hooted a little. “I’m not that interesting, believe me. Come on, let’s look around.”

AN

HOUR LATER ,

Aldo, catching up with her, bent

his mouth to her ear. “Meet me upstairs in the small balcony above the O’ Keefe. Do you see it?” She nodded and he disappeared. In a minute or so, she left Ori with Maceo and followed Aldo upstairs. The marbled hallway echoed with the chatter from below, but it was empty. As she got to the balcony, Aldo pulled her roughly into the little alcove that overlooked the gathering. He kissed her passionately, then began to hitch up the skirt of her dress. Elli grinned, and when he encountered bare flesh instead of underwear, he looked up in surprise. “I thought something like this might happen …well, I hoped it would,” she whispered. Aldo stood and kissed her again. “I’m going to fuck you first,” he said. “Then we’ll try something different.” He unzipped his pants and thrust deep inside her. Elli gasped, and Aldo clamped his hand over her mouth to silence her. It was a hard, quick, thrilling fuck, and they both came quickly. Elli rammed her legs together as she felt his cum trailing down her leg, but it was such a turn on to play like this, the fear of being caught adding to the fun. Aldo lowered her skirt and turned her to face out of the balcony.

“Now,” he said quietly, moving behind her. “The game is this. I’m going to fuck you from behind, but you must remain as if a statue, so that no one guesses what we are doing. Every time you feel my cock thrust into you, I want you to find a man in the gathering below, gaze at him, and pretend it’s his cock fucking you. Control your orgasm. Concentrate on feeling it entirely in your cunt.” Elli felt him push up the back of her skirt and part her legs with his hand, caressing her clit from behind. She put her hands flat on the waist-height balcony balustrade to steady herself as Aldo entered her. “Look at him, or him, or him …” Aldo’s murmur was low and masterful. “All of these men in this room would kill to fuck you, Elliana. Look at them.” As he fucked her, Elli obeyed his instructions and imagined that some of the good-looking, successful men in the gallery were the ones whose cocks was reaming her so hard. The international property magnate with the red-gold hair, or the sleek, blonde racehorse owner …or Maceo Bartoli … Elli felt disloyal to Ori, looking at her husband with those thoughts, but Maceo was easily the handsomest man in the room. Aldo thrust harder as he neared his peak and keeping still was getting

harder for Elli. She concentrated on Maceo, registering again how much he looked like Indio, and as she neared her peak, she felt Aldo’s hand on her belly, pulling her back into the shadows. He muffled her cry with his mouth. They panted, calming themselves. They tidied up their clothes, grinning at each other. “That was such a rush,” she whispered, and Aldo grinned, nodding and kissing her again. “Thank you for helping to fulfill that particular fantasy,” he said, and she laughed. “It was my pleasure.” The countdown to midnight was starting, and Elli and Aldo kissed as the clock struck twelve and the cheers went up in the room. “Happy New Year, Elli, my beautiful one.” “Happy New Year, handsome.” He kissed her again, long and hard. They were breathless when they broke apart and Elli grinned at him. “Dang, that one kept going.” Aldo laughed and reached for her hand. “Ready to go down?” “I must just use the bathroom to freshen up.” Aldo nodded. “It’s just along this corridor, two

lefts, and a right. I’ll meet you back downstairs. Elli walked along the hallways of the art gallery. There was no one around and her shoes clicked on the marble floor and echoed off the old stone. She found the bathroom where Aldo said it was and went in. She was washing her hands when she had the feeling of being watched again, that same feeling she’d had a while back in the alleyway. She whirled around, but the vast, luxurious bathroom was empty. What is the matter with me, she started to think, when suddenly the door of the bathroom, partially ajar before, was yanked closed with a slam. Acting on instinct, Elli rushed outside and looked both ways down the hallways., For the briefest second, she saw the back of a tall man rounding the corner. He had dark brown messy curls, and Elli’s heart began to beat heavily against her ribs. Indio … She yanked the high heels from her feet and took off after him as fast as her lilac column dress would let her. She pushed through doors, glancing around the rooms, sure he had been watching her. She told herself over and over that it couldn’t be him, and finally, breathless, she slowed and stopped. This is ridiculous.

It’s just

paranoia,

she

reprimanded herself. Stop. Just stop. He doesn’t deserve your time, Moretti. He left you. He’s gone, and there’s a gorgeous, sexy man, with whom you’ve just had public sex, waiting for you downstairs. She turned and retraced her steps back to the bathroom. Just as she was about to descend the stairs, a light breeze carried the scent of a man’s expensive cologne to her. Indio’s favorite. For a second, she breathed it in, eyes closed, then gritting her teeth, she stomped downstairs, almost angry now. Aldo was chatting to Maceo and Ori as she returned to his side and slipped her hand into his. He smiled down at her and kissed her cheek, scanning her face for a brief second, leaving Elli feeling like he saw everything, even things she hadn’t admitted to herself yet. Then he turned back to the couple, resting his arm securely around her waist. “Here she is.” “We were just saying, we should all have dinner sometime,” Ori said to Elli, and Elli nodded. “I would love that.” Maceo, she noticed, didn’t seem as enthusiastic as he had earlier and she

wondered if she had done something to offend him. But when they said goodbye later in the evening, he kissed her cheek warmly. “If you or your magazine ever need any artistic spaces or anything, please let me know. It would be great to work with you.” Elli smiled at him. “That sounds like a great idea. How about we talk around mid-January?” “Great. Happy New Year.” He handed her a card, and they said goodbye. In the car on the way back to Elli’s apartment, Elli leaned her head on Aldo’s shoulder. “I’m glad we’re staying in the city tonight.” “You don’t like our house?” She chuckled. “Your house, and of course I do. It’s just my place is closer, and I’m feeling very, very horny right now.” Aldo laughed. “Well, that’s just about the best news a man could hear.” She kissed his jawline as he drove to the parking garage nearest to her apartment. Walking hand-inhand back to her place, Elli looked up at him. “Aldo?” “Yes, baby?”

“Feel like getting kinky tonight?” Aldo grinned. “Always. What were you thinking?” Elli hesitated. “I’d like to try the blindfold thing again. I think it would teach me to trust better.” He nodded. “We could do that. We could play some games.” In bed with her a short while later, he wound his tie around her eyes. “Can you see?” “No,” she grumbled. “And it’s torture knowing you’re naked and I can’t see you.” Aldo laughed. “And you won’t be able to touch me either. I’m going to tie your hands behind your back, beautiful.” “You are?” “Yep. On your stomach, Moretti.” Elli laughed and obeyed, and Aldo bound her hands, tucking them into the small of her back as he rolled her onto her back again. Elli wriggled, smiling. “You like that, huh?” She laughed. “Surprisingly, yes. Now, tell me about this game.”

“Well, you see this beautiful, soft belly of yours?” He ran a finger down her stomach, and she sighed happily. “Well, we’re going to play a game of guess. I’m going to stroke various objects down it, and you have to guess what they are.” “Are all these objects attached to you?” “Some of them will be.” They were both laughing now, “Some I will have culled from your place.” Elli giggled. “And what is the purpose?” “Apart from me spending quality time with your gorgeous abs? Well, here’s the game. If you guess six or more right, you win, and I go down on you like I never have before. Get four or fewer, and you suck my dick and let me come into your sweet mouth.” “Dirty boy.” But she was getting wet at the thought. “And if I get five correct?” “Subtract one from seventy.” Elli laughed. “Oh, you are so on, Mr. Constanza.” She heard Aldo go back to the kitchen, then the living room. “I’m not trying to sway you, but you might want to look in my nightstand.” She heard him come back into the bedroom, the drawer of her nightstand opening. “Oh, ho ho,” he

said with a chuckle. “You’ve been holding out on me, you little minx.” She heard the buzz of her vibrator, then jumped as Aldo touched it to her clit. “I have to say I’m relieved my only competition comes with batteries.” Elli smiled. She felt Aldo climb onto the bed, then his fingers stroking her belly. “Too easy. That’s your hand.” “Did I say I had started? I was just preparing the playing field.” Elli started to giggle now, both with amusement and nervous anticipation. She felt him kiss her belly, then run his tongue around her navel. “Okay, my beautiful Elli, what’s this?” She felt something cold, very cold, circle her navel. “Ice cube?” “An easy one to start.” He traced the ice around her belly, then to her nipples. Elli moaned at the sweet pain of the ice. Aldo chuckled softly, stroking it down her body and into her sex. Elli shifted, wriggling with pleasure, and when she felt Aldo’s mouth on her nipple, cold from the ice cube, she gasped a little and arched her back to meet his lips. He teased her nipples with the ice cube until it melted, then kissed her mouth. “You taste like

heaven, Elli. Next item.” A soft, ticklish thing, a feather, was next. Aldo traced it around her belly, then up and down her body as his other hand massaged her clit. Elli, enjoying the game and getting more aroused, guess the next three items as –well—a crystal ornament Vivienne had brought her from Paris, the edge of a wooden box from her desk, and the cold metal of her fountain pen. Aldo kissed her. “You have five correct already, baby.” “We could just stop here and suck each other,” she said, but Aldo laughed. “No way …this is too much fun. Next one.” Elli felt something cold and metallic touch her skin. At first thin, like a needle, and then flat against her skin …like a knife? Elli’s blood ran cold, and for a second she couldn’t breathe. “A knife?” she said hesitantly. She heard Aldo’s sharp intake of breath. “Of course not, Elli. What do you think I am? It was my watch.” “I’m sorry, Aldo. I wasn’t accusing you of anything. Some people like knife play. I’m just not

one of them.” “Me neither, Elli, especially after what happened to …” his voice choked off and Elli felt terrible. She couldn’t reach out to comfort him, her hands still bound behind her. “God, Aldo, I’m sorry. I was insensitive. Please, let me up so I can hug you.” “No. It’s okay. I understand why you would have guessed that. Let’s just put it down as a wrong guess. Next one.” It was hard, but soft at the tip against her skin, almost silky. Elli, trying to cheer him up, smiling at him. “Is that your incredible cock?” Aldo laughed and pushed her blindfold off. Elli blinked to see him tracing his cock around her navel. “Correct. Which means you win, beautiful. Now …” He shifted down the bed and hooked her legs over his shoulders. “Hold on tight, little one.” He grinned up at her, and Elli could see no lingering anger or hurt in his eyes. Aldo buried his face in her sex, and she sighed as she felt his tongue twist around her clit until it was hypersensitive, then he plunged his tongue deep into her cunt, almost violently, until she was screaming his name and begging him never to stop.

Afterward, they fucked until dawn and fell asleep together, lips almost touching, Aldo’s big arm locked around her waist. To Elli’s great relief, the nightmares didn’t make another appearance, and when she woke in the morning, she felt rested and safe. In the shower, she took him in her mouth and milked him until he was groaning and coming into her mouth. He lifted her afterward and took her against the shower wall, his big frame almost filling the tiny cubicle. While Elli dressed, Aldo went out to buy fresh, soft rolls for their breakfast. He returned as she was brewing some fresh coffee. He held out a newspaper to her, and she took it, registering the anger on his face. “What is it?” “Page eleven,” he said shortly. She opened the paper and saw the picture of them leaving the art gallery the previous night. Aldo was kissing her. She looked up at him. “So, we’ve gone public.” “That’s not the problem. Read the article.” Elli looked down and began to read. “What the fuck?” The article, far from just outing them as a couple, ripped into Elli’s journalistic integrity over dating a subject of an interview and called into question whether it had been a legitimate article or

a puff piece designed to sell her ‘boyfriend’s’ business to the masses. There was no identification of the writer in the piece. “Ms. Moretti seems preoccupied with Mr. Constanza’s physical attributes far more than whether his philanthropy is genuine or masks a man whose ruthless business acumen means he leaves few survivors in his wake. But what strikes me most is this—since when has Il Mondo Italia been what amounts to a gossip magazine pandering to the elite? Since Ms. Moretti needed to get her rocks off, it seems. It is a sad downturn in the quality of a previously exemplary investigative magazine. Ms. Moretti, you should be ashamed.” Elli’s hurt, and anger rose to the surface and she threw the paper on the table. “Fuck.” She tried to keep the tears from welling in her eyes. She’d had bad reviews before. Of course she had—it was part of being a writer, but this was one step away from calling her a whore. She slumped into a chair and covered her face. Aldo stroked her arm. “None of that is true. You know that, right?” She nodded, but it didn’t make her feel better. Being called a whore in public wasn’t the way she wanted to start her New Year, but she knew that responding would only make it worse. Her cell

phone rang and she saw it was Viv calling. “I may be about to be fired,” she said to Aldo, who shook his head. Elli answered the call. “Hey, Viv, guess you saw the article.” “Yes, I did.” Vivienne sounded mad, “And when I get my hands on the writer of it, he’ll wish he’d never been born.” “I’m sorry, Viv. I really am.” “You haven’t done anything wrong, Elli. This article is completely unjustified, and what’s more, false in every way. I can’t believe the editor let it get through.” Elli sighed, somewhat relieved. “Look, I’m coming in to work. We can talk about it in greater depth and consider how we might respond.” “Are you sure? What about what the doctor said?” Vivienne asked. “That was days ago. I’m fine. See you soon.” Elli put her phone back on the table. “Well, I guess the vacation is over.” Aldo leaned over and stroked her cheek. “Don’t worry about this joker. Look, I’ll walk you to work, but then I have to go away for a few days for work. Will you be okay?”

Elli was surprised. “You’re going away?” “Yes. Is it a problem?” “You haven’t mentioned it before is all. Where are you going?” “New York. I’m sorry. I thought I had.” She shook her head. “But then again, there’s no reason you should have to run anything past me, so don’t worry about it.” “You sure, Bella? You look a little annoyed.” She shook her head, but the truth was, she was a little scared. This business trip seemed to come out of nowhere and she wondered if Aldo thought a little distance between them would be a good thing after the article. Aldo was watching her, and as she got up, he pulled her onto his lap. “Whatever it is you’re thinking right now isn’t what’s happening. It’s just a short trip, and if I didn’t know you had work, I would have invited you to come with me. “ Elli leaned into him, already missing him. “I know. I’m sorry.”

AT

WORK ,

after Aldo had kissed her goodbye and

promised to heat her bed with his phone call later that night, Elli went to see Vivienne, who hugged her, then asked her to shut the door behind her and sit down. “I called the editor of this rag.” She waved the offending newspaper in the air, still mad. “The article wasn’t from one of his own people, rather an anonymous submission. He thought it made good points—which, by the way, it doesn’t— and put it in. Elli, did you piss this guy off at all?” Elli thought back, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. But then that paper has never liked magazines like ours—we’re too ‘elite’ or ‘left wing.'” Vivienne still looked unhappy. “Smearing one of my employees is not something I’m willing to let go, Els.” “Fair enough, but if we engage with them, it’s like saying their opinion is worth something. I hate to say it, but let’s just leave it alone. I’ll just have to make sure that my future articles are …” “As good as they always have been,” Vivienne said, a little forcefully. “Do not let this asshole make you feel as though you’re not talented. You were born to do this, Elli, and you know it.” “Thanks.” Elli got up. “I’m going to distract myself with some work. I’m fine,” she emphasized, before

Vivienne could check up on her yet again. “Sitting around at home won’t do me any good.” As promised, she immersed herself in her work. It felt good to be back in her office, calling some of the shots in her life. She did some general research on some pending pieces, then called Maceo Bartoli and set up a meeting with him to discuss working together. “I’d love it if we worked on something that was both investigative and beautiful to look at,” Elli told Maceo. “If we could do something actually in your own gallery—I’ve heard it’s a beautiful space.” Maceo laughed a deep, sexy chuckle. “You should come have lunch with Ori and me sometime and have a good look around. Then you’ll see it’s chaotic and frenzied, but. yes, I adore it. We’ve managed to build it up over the last few years so that we have a family atmosphere. You would enjoy it.” Elli smiled down the phone. “I would love that.” They set a date for the following week, and Elli said goodbye, feeling a lot happier. She also got a message from her colleagues, supporting her after reading the article. A couple of journalists from local T.V. reached out to her, but she politely turned down their requests for interviews. “I’m not the story,” she told them, wishing she could go back to

the relative obscurity she had known a few weeks ago. It was three o’clock before she looked up from her work, and then it was only because she heard a commotion out in the reception area. Suddenly, a girl with bright blue hair burst into her office. “Konnichiwa!” Elli gaped at the girl. “Tandy? Oh my god!” She got up and the two women embraced, hugging each other tightly. Tandy, a part-Japanese, part-American woman in her early twenties had been Elli’s best friend for a few years, ever since the younger woman started as an intern at the magazine. Tandy Li had only one ambition—to travel to every country in the world—and over the last two years, she had been doing exactly that, working her way (sometimes illegally) through the Americas and Canada, down to the Caribbean, and then to Europe. Elli made some coffee and they sat in her office. Tandy told her she was in Italy for just a week. “I’ve finally got enough money to go to India,” she said. “But I couldn’t do Europe without coming back to say hi to my bestie. How're things? Viv said you’re getting some decent sex at last.” Elli nearly choked on her coffee, but then laughed.

“Nothing is sacred, is it?” Tandy grinned. “Nope. You look good, Els, I have to say.” Elli smiled. “Well, I’m excited you’re here, Tandy. Where are you staying?” Tandy looked a little guilty, and Elli laughed, having expected her to ask her to stay with her—it was an old habit. “You can stay as long as you want, Tee. You know that.” “The boyfriend won’t mind?” She hadn’t really thought of Aldo that way before. Elli turned the label around in her mind for a moment, feeling oddly uncomfortable with it, before dismissing the feeling as yet another residue from the damn concussion. “The boyfriend is in New York for the next few days, so you’re all set, as long as you don’t mind sharing a bed with me.” “Have I ever?” Tandy rolled her eyes. “We’re going to have so much fun. Listen, I have to go meet another friend, so can I come by your place around nine tonight?” “Of course. I’ll even go grocery shopping.” “Don’t buy anything healthy.” Elli chuckled. “Oh, I won’t.”

E LLI LUGGED the grocery bags up the stairs to her apartment. Dumping her bags on the table and taking off her coat, she walked over to the small table beside the door to set her keys down—if she didn’t, they’d be lost immediately. As she leaned down, she spotted a plain brown manila envelope just poking out from beneath the door. Frowning, Elli picked it up and turned it over. There was no name on it, nor was it addressed to anybody. Walking back into the kitchen, she set coffee brewing, then opened the envelope and shook out the contents. A photograph slid out, face down, and when she flipped it over, she felt a cold fist in the stomach. It was a picture of her from about twenty minutes ago. She was emerging from a bakery several blocks away, looking sideways down the street, so she’d missed whoever it was who had the lens pointed her way. What the fuck? She studied the envelope and photo minutely, but could not see any trace of a clue to who might have sent it. It was such an invasion of privacy—and so creepy. She remembered how she’d felt at the art gallery on New Year’s Eve and that same prickling feeling chilled her skin. If this is you, Indio Navaro, stop it. I’ve moved on.

Maybe he had seen the picture of her and Aldo kissing. Don’t kid yourself, girl. Why would he care? Elli shook herself and stuffed the photograph and the envelope in the trash can. She unpacked the groceries and was wondering if she should cook something for a late supper with Tandy when her cell phone rang. Not looking at the Caller ID—she automatically assumed who it was, based on Aldo’s earlier promise—she answered with a playful, “It’s not quite bedtime yet. Missing me so soon?” The caller whispered down the phone. “You look beautiful tonight, Elli.” Her flesh crawled again and anger flashed through her. “Who is this? What the fuck do you want?” A low chuckle, and she tried to pick out anything she could recognize in the voice. “You, of course, Elli. Always you. It’s always been you.” Elli gritted her teeth. “Well, asshole, you don’t get to have me, do you? Who are you?” “You know me, Elli Bella.” The shock was icy cold. “Indio?” her voice, a whisper, broke as she said his name.

He chuckled. “Who knows? All that is certain is one thing, beautiful Elli.” “What’s that?” “That soon you’ll be bleeding out, whore.” And the line went dead. Elli dropped her phone and sank to the floor, trembling violently, unable to stop the panic attack, and that’s where Tandy found her an hour later. Tandy insisted on Elli reporting the call and the photograph to the police, but the terse officer taking her statement evidently thought she was a hysterical female, and soon Elli stomped out, followed by a furious Tandy. “Motherfucker,” she raved as she wrapped her arm around Elli’s shoulders. Tandy had the height from her American father, almost six feet of her to Elli’s five-five, and Elli was weirdly glad of it as they walked home through the dark streets. It was bitingly cold. Elli looked at Tandy a little sheepishly. “This isn’t the homecoming I wanted you to have, Tandy. Maybe I’m making too much of this.” “A death threat? No way, Elli. This is scary stuff.” Tandy sighed, shaking her head. “You know what’s weird, though?”

“What?” Tandy glanced at her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I always was waiting for something like this to happen to you.” Elli was shocked. “Why?” “Because look at you, Elli. You’re so beautiful, so friendly, and yet when anyone gets close, they’re banging up a brick wall. Someone was always going to get nasty, and I think this is it.” Elli was silent. “So it’s my fault?” “Hell, no.” Tandy was vehement. “It’s the fault of a civilization that leads men to believe they’re entitled to any woman they want, and that murder is an option open to them if they don’t get what they want.” “But I have let someone in,” Elli insisted. “I hope you get to meet Aldo …he’s just the sweetest, sexiest guy. And he and I are growing closer every day …in every way.” Elli flushed, and Tandy grinned. “Then he’s probably not the one playing these games.” “Of course it’s not Aldo,” Elli said in surprise. “He would never do anything to hurt me.”

“Of course, of course.” Tandy waved her hand. “I was being facetious. Elli, I know you won’t want to go down this path, but … do you think it might be Indio?” Tandy knew everything about Indio and Elli’s love for the man. Elli sighed. “I would hate to think so. Besides, Indio knows that if he came back …” “You would dump Aldo in a second if Indio showed up.” Elli was stung. “I wouldn’t.” “Hey, I’m not judging—but are you being honest with yourself?” Elli could feel the tears coming again, and she looked away from her friend. It was a moot thought anyway—Indio was never coming back—so what did it matter if Tandy just might be right? “Please don’t make this harder than it is,” she said in a soft voice. Tandy hugged her. “Sorry. Now, let’s forget this nonsense and go eat our body weight in front of the television.”

TANDY

DID

a great job of distracting Elli for the

evening, but when Tandy fell asleep on the couch just after midnight, Elli put a pillow underneath her head and blanket over her and went to her bedroom, realizing she’d never gotten the promised call from Aldo. She grabbed her laptop and opened Skype, hoping he would be online. She had been debating with herself all night whether to tell him about the threats, but when she saw his smile as he logged on and greeted her, she demurred. “Hey, gorgeous.” “Hi, Aldo. How’s the Big Apple?” “Lonely without you. I only got in a little while ago. Did you talk to Viv about the article?” God, the article …she hadn’t thought about that at all since the threats. “It’s all good. We’re not going to respond to it.” Aldo looked a little surprised. “Wow.” “What?” “Well, you were so fired up and now it seems like you’ve let it go.” Elli nodded, not quite meeting his eye. “Yeah, well.”

“You okay?” “Absolutely. Actually,” she said, seeing Tandy stumble into the bedroom, bleary-eyed, and using it to change the subject, “I do have to tell you that I’m sharing my bed with someone else tonight.” She grinned as Aldo’s eyebrows shot up and Elli moved the laptop around to where Tandy was crawling into bed. “Say hello to Aldo. Aldo, this is Tandy, a good friend of mine. She’s crashing here for a few nights on her way to India.” Aldo chuckled and said hello to Tandy, who greeted him, then promptly went back to sleep. Elli grinned at Aldo. “She showed up at the office today. No warning.” “Serendipitous,” Aldo nodded, “I like you’re not alone.” Elli gave a half-smile. “I’m a big girl now, Aldo. I don’t need a babysitter.” “Sorry,” he smiled ruefully, “I’m overprotective, I know. Scuzi.” “You’re forgiven.” They chatted for a little longer, until Elli felt herself wilting and said goodbye. Aldo blew her a kiss, clearly seeing that their evening rendezvous was a no-go tonight.

“I love you, Elli. Sleep tight.” “Goodnight, Aldo. I miss you.” After she’d shut her laptop, she lay back. She felt guilty about not telling Aldo she loved him when it had been her mind lately that she might be falling for him. Certainly she was very, very fond of the man, and she loved the sex—exciting and a little dangerous. Aldo being a billionaire didn’t faze her —she had never been the gold-digging type. It was his money, not hers. Elli closed her eyes and was asleep in minutes. She wasn’t sure how long she slept before he nightmares came back, bloody and violent, and she woke, crying. Tandy inevitably was woken by Elli’s panic attack and sat beside her friend as she gradually calmed down. “It’s still Indio, isn’t it?” Tandy eventually said. Elli sighed. “Less so. I think …I think I just need closure, you know? I have no idea where he is— even Googling him brings up his company, but nothing, and I mean nothing, about him personally. It’s as if he’s wiped himself off the face of the earth. Even gossip sites have nothing on him, and seeing he was married to that model, I’m surprised.”

Tandy sighed. “Look, I wasn’t going to tell you this …but I saw him. Now, because I never met him, I could have been wrong, but I don’t think so. You can’t replicate his kind of beauty. In Seattle. He was having dinner with a couple. This was about six months ago. He looked tired, worn down, and they were having a pretty intense conversation by the looks of things, as if he were upset and they were trying to help him.” Elli’s heart was thumping with a sad heaviness. “He looked tired?” Tandy nodded. “I didn’t feel as if I could go over, so I thought it would be best if I didn’t tell you. But he is out in the world, safe, if not happy. Does that help?” Elli considered. “I don’t know.” She hesitated. “I keep thinking I see him, just a brief glimpse and then he’s gone. Sometimes I think I’m going crazy. If it hadn’t been for Aldo, I might have.” Tandy smiled. “You like Aldo, don’t you?” Elli smiled. “He says he loves me, but I haven’t been able to say it back yet.” “Where is he at the moment?” “Four Seasons in New York. He’ll be back on Friday.”

“Huh.” Tandy was frowning. “What?” Tandy shook her head. “No, just something struck me. He’s a solid-gold billionaire, right?” Elli half smiled, half frowned at her friend. “So?” “Well, it’s just, if I had his money, I would be staying in the penthouse suite. From what I saw, that wasn’t the penthouse of The Four Seasons.” Elli shrugged. “Maybe it was already booked. It was a last-minute trip.” “Yeah, maybe. Anyway, I’m getting off the topic. You’ve probably heard this a million times from Viv, Elli, but …” “Indio is history. Concentrate on the sexy man in your life now. Yeah, and I know you’re both right. I am trying.” Tandy scooched down in the bed and tucked her arm around Elli. “Good. Now let’s get some sleep, or you’ll look like shit in the morning.” “So will you, bitch,” Elli laughed. “Not possible. Go to sleep.”

W HEN HER FRIEND left for India on Thursday morning, Elli hugged her tightly. “Please come back soon. I miss you too much.” Tandy got a little choked, but hid it with her usual bravado. “Don’t get all mushy. I’ll be back before Christmas.” “Too long,” Elli grumbled, but waved her goodbye at the gate and headed to the taxi stand. She caught a cab back into the city and went straight to work. It was still early, six-thirty a.m., and the office was empty as Elli sat down and flicked on her computer. She filled the coffee pot as she waiting for her ancient laptop to boot up, then wondered if she should grab some pastries for breakfast. She patted her flat belly—she could do with gaining a couple of pounds, she thought. She had lost weight lately, mostly due to the Olympic sex she’d been having. She decided to go down to the nearest bakery, a couple of streets away. Venice was just coming to life in the dark January morning, but there were few people around. The bakery was just opening, and Elli bought a couple of breakfast rolls and some pastries for her colleagues when they got into the office. She was almost back, walking down the short street

that led to the magazine’s back entrance, when it happened. Suddenly, she felt someone slam into her from behind, knocking her flat against a stone wall. Elli cracked her head hard against the stone—the feeling was disturbingly familiar—but couldn’t scream before her attacker knocked her to the ground and landed a vicious kick to her stomach. Elli tried to curl up in a ball, pain ripping through her, too shocked to cry out or fight back, but her attacker straddled her, his face obscured by a black mask, and reached into his pocket for a knife. Oh, god, no … “Please, don’t.” As he raised the blade to drive it into her, there was a shout. Elli heard footsteps running towards them. Her attacker took off, and Elli struggled into a sitting position on the ice-cold ground. Two young men helped her up, peering worriedly at her. “Are you okay, signorina?” She nodded, shell-shocked, and touched her forehead, but there was no blood. Thank god. “Tomas, you take her to the hospital while I get the polizzia,” the taller of the two men said, starting down the street already. Elli’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the back of

the sweater. “No!” He stopped and both men looked at her, confused and concerned. “I’m fine,” she assured them. “My office is right here. I’ll go in and … get help there.” With her rescuers staring unhappily after her, she walked slowly to her office and went in. It was still empty and she went to the little bathroom to clean her face of dirt. There was a small bump that she knew would bruise badly, but otherwise, aching stomach muscles apart, she was unhurt. But he had been about to kill her …or had he? Something was bugging her about the whole attack—more than just the fact that her life had been threatened. The thing was …it just didn’t seem like whoever it was had his heart in it. Even though the men had interrupted them, he would still have had time to stick the blade into her and then run. So what the hell? Not to mention, why? She poured herself some coffee and sat at her desk, opening her emails. Working methodically, gradually distracting herself from the earlier fear, she opened another message without looking at the sender and suddenly there were photographs of her, taken that morning as she walked to the bakery. Elli stared at the shots, gritting her teeth as she scrolled through the extensive footage of her small excursion. But it was the last photograph that made

her gasp. It wasn’t a photograph of her; it was a beautiful, dark-haired woman in a pristine white wedding dress—pristine except for the blood spattered across it and the knife wounds in the bodice of the dress. Yvetta. “Oh my god.” Elli was trembling. Suddenly it all became clearer to her. This wasn’t about her or Indio—it was about Aldo. Someone was threatening to kill her to torture him. She grabbed her cell phone and called him, knowing it was after midnight in New York. She texted him, Aldo, baby, we have to talk. Please call me back when you can. She’d barely hung up the phone when Aldo called her back, and after she quickly explained, his answer was definitive. “I’m coming back to you, Elliana. Do not even think to argue. No business trip is worth more than your safety. Umberto will pick you up from work and take you back to your apartment.” His tone softened then, likely knowing she didn’t respond well to orders. “Please, Elli, for me, pack your stuff. I want you safe in our home for as long as this psychopath is at large.” Elli hated the idea of being cooped up in an ivory tower, but she had to admit she was frightened. “Okay. Okay, Aldo, just until it’s over.”

Umberto, Aldo’s sweet driver, gave her a grin as she walked outside the office to meet him. “Good afternoon, Miss Moretti.” “Call me Elli, won’t you?” She got into the front with him, obviously something he wasn’t used to. She grinned at him. “Umberto, I’m just a normal girl. Unless Aldo is with me, count on me riding up front with you.” She chatted with him as normally as she could, trying to distract herself from what was happening —circumstances forcing her to live with a man when she knew in her heart she wasn’t ready. She packed two suitcases, not wanting to have to keep coming back here, and Umberto took them down to the car for her. Elli looked around her apartment, wondering with sadness when she’d be back. She went to the window to look out over the Lagoon at twilight, seeing the lights of the city come on. A movement caught her eye below on the street and she froze. He was looking up at her, half hidden in shadow, and as she met his gaze, he moved back into the darkness and was gone. But she knew that gaze. It haunted her nightmares, and often, also her days. Her heart thumping painfully against her ribs, Elli dashed down the stairs and out onto the street, ignoring Umberto’s shocked face as she blitzed past

him. Running down the alleyway to the street behind her home, she searched and searched, her hysteria bubbling higher and higher with each corner she turned without an answer. Finally, when it was clear there was no one to be found, she screamed out over the dark waters of the lagoon. “Indio!” All her hurt, her rage, and her love was in that scream, and as she ran out of oxygen, she felt a hand on her back. Jumping away in sudden terror, she realized it was Umberto, looking at her with confused compassion. Leaning back into him, she began to sob as he guided her toward the car.

ON THE DRIVE back to Aldo’s house, Elli managed to pull herself back together and looked sheepishly at Umberto. “You must think I’m a mad woman, Umberto.” He shook his head. “It is not my business, Ms. Moretti.” “Elli.” “Elli, it is not for me to judge anyone else.” “You’re very kind …could I ask you to not mention my little freak out to Aldo?” Umberto glanced briefly at her, a smile on his face.

“What freak out?” Elli relaxed and smiled. “You’re the best, Umberto.” “Elli, you have a friend in me. I would never reveal anything told to me in confidence, by anyone, by Mr. Constanza, or by yourself. I would not keep my job long if I could not keep my mouth shut. But you have a friend in me.” Elli chewed her lip, wondering if she should ask the question she was dying to know. “Does that apply to Yvetta? Can I ask you if you knew her?” Umberto’s smile faded. “It was before my time, Elli. And the staff, they never talk about what happened. You know she was killed in Mr. Constanza’s bedroom?” Elli felt a shock of ice in her veins. The room where she, Elli, had sex with Aldo? That room? “The same bedroom he has now?” Umberto nodded. “Between us, the staff has always thought it strange, but no one has the courage to ask Mr. Constanza why he stays in the room where so much violence took place.” Elli was silent for a while, staring out at the Italian countryside. She was trying to think of all the reasons why Aldo would still sleep in that room—

especially now, with her. If he was keeping it as a memory of Yvetta, she felt uncomfortable sleeping and having sex in there. Maybe he just doesn’t want to admit what happened there. Maybe he thinks by loving me, he can erase the hurt. In that case, she would go along with it and help him heal the wound. Both of them had lost their great loves. Maybe it was time they both moved on …with each other. Elli was surprised how happy that made her feel. She made sure Aldo knew exactly how she felt when he arrived home that night. Curving her body, clad in a dark red dress, her hair loose and flowing down her back, around him, she pressed her lips on his fiercely. Aldo looked delighted and swept her up into his arms. “God, I missed you, beautiful girl.” “I missed you too,” she said, stroking his face. “I love you, Aldo.” She was astonished at seeing his eyes fill with tears, and only then did she know the depth of his feelings for her. He leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, and she felt his tears on her cheeks. For a moment, they just stood there, then Aldo pressed his lips to hers. “If you only knew how happy you just made me, Elliana.”

“You make me happy, Aldo.” At least that was true, she thought, guilty now that she’d said she loved him. It was partially true; she did love him. She just wasn’t sure yet she was in love with him. But her not saying it to him was beginning to get awkward, and after the events of the day, Elli had thought, what the hell? She was glad she had made him happy and that was enough. She smoothed his short hair. He looked fatigued as they walked into the house. “Darling, I can walk,” she said with a smile. “You look exhausted.” He put her on her feet and chuckled. “I am tired, I have to admit.” “Hungry?” “A little.” Elli took his hand. “Come. I’ll fix you something to eat, then you can go to bed.” “We can go to bed.” Aldo grinned wickedly, and Elli laughed, pulling him along. “Ambitious, given you’re half asleep now, but I’m in.” She made him some soup, then took him to bed. Aldo lay on the bed as she undressed him, then complained when she got off the bed. “Where are

you going?” Elli grinned. “Just over here. Gonna do a little striptease for my man.” Aldo smiled and nodded. “Then please continue. That dress is sexy as hell, by the way. You should always be in red.” She looked over her shoulder at him as she unzipped the back of it. “You think?” Aldo, grinning, his cock already hard, nodded. “Hell, yes. Bathed in scarlet. Always.” “Kinky.” The dress slithered down her body to the floor and she was naked underneath, except for the delicate white-gold body chain he had given her. Grinning, she crawled on top of him and kissed him. “You just lie back and let me do all the work.” Aldo chuckled. “Whatever you say, ma’am.” Elli moved down his body and took his cock into her mouth, sweeping her lips over the wide crest, and sliding her tongue up and down him as she sucked gently at first. Then, as he grew harder and more aroused, she hollowed out her cheeks, her hand massaging his balls and fisting the root of him until he came, gripping her head as his seed spilled onto her tongue.

Afterward, panting for hair, he smiled up at her as she moved to kiss his mouth. “God, Elli, that was incredible. Thank you.” Elli smiled as he rolled her onto her back. “There’s more of that to come, so to speak.” Aldo laughed, then looked up across the room. “I have an idea.” He went across the room and dragged an old, antique, free-standing mirror to the side of the bed. “Let’s watch ourselves fuck.” He covered her body with his, his cock already stiffening again, and hitched her legs around his waist. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, pretty girl … watch my cock go in and out, in out …” As he plunged his cock into her, Elli was mesmerized by the sight of it driving deeper and deeper into her cunt, the way their bodies entangled, and how masterful he was with her as he fucked her. His fingers bit into the soft flesh of her hips as he gathered pace, his eyes locked onto her face as she moved beneath him. “Scream my name, Elli. Scream it,” he ordered as she came, and she obeyed, gasping, moaning, and calling his name over and over. His breath was hot against the back of her neck. “You belong to me now, Elli. It’s you and me from

now on, yes?” “Yes,” she breathed, then gave a long moan as his cock drove deeper inside her again and again. She felt him bite down on her shoulder as he came, his hand stroking her clit. Eli shivered through another orgasm, then begged Aldo to let her catch her breath. She turned onto her back as he lay down beside her, his fingers stroking a pattern on her belly, which was rising up and down as she panted for breath. Aldo smiled at her. “You’re so beautiful, Elli. Every man in the world would be jealous of me.” She flushed and laughed. “You’re biased.” “I admit I am, but it’s still the truth. Look, let me draw a map.” Elli giggled as he started to trace a pattern on her belly. “Venice …Rome …London …Paris …New York …” Aldo was grinning, knowing he was tickling her and feeling her abs quivering. “Seattle …” Elli froze. “What?” Aldo frowned at her. “Is something wrong? Don’t you like Seattle?” “I’ve never been,” Elli felt her face burn and she

regretted saying anything. “Sorry, I guess I was just expecting San Francisco or something. Silly me.” Aldo still looked bemused. “You would love Seattle. I have friends there. It’s about time we took a trip together.” Elli felt the panic rise up in her. No. No way. She would spend the entire trip looking for Indio everywhere. God. No. “I really can’t take any more time off at the moment, Aldo. Maybe later in the year?” Aldo shrugged. “As you wish. Anything to make my girl happy.” They made love again, until Aldo decided he really was exhausted and Elli wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head onto her chest. Later, in the early hours, Aldo had fallen into a deep sleep, but Elli stayed awake. She wished Tandy hadn’t told her that Indio was in, or at least had been and had people in, Seattle. Elli wanted so much to live in the now, with this wonderful man. And I will, she swore. We will have a happy life together. She tucked herself into the curve of Aldo’s back and tried to sleep, only succumbing just as the sun started to rise.

A MONTH LATER , and Elli was starting to believe she could do it. She and Aldo spent their time together laughing and talking and making love—as well as making plans. She found Aldo, for all his wealth, loved the simple things she loved: home-cooked meals, art, and books. They took long walks together out in the Italian countryside near his home and spent one weekend in Rome together. “I was born in New York, but raised here,” Aldo told Elli one day as they strolled through the manic and crowded streets of the capital city, worsened by the crowds that were arriving in preparation for Carnevale di Venezia. Vivienne always gave her staff part of the festival period as a vacation. “Somehow, in the last few years, I gravitated toward Venice—I must have known you were waiting there for me.” Elli smiled at that. “You’re sweet to say that.” Aldo shrugged. “I love you. I am starting to believe, Elli, that you are the love of my life.” Elli felt uncomfortable. “What about Yvetta?” “I will always love and miss her, but even with Yvetta, there wasn’t such a complete connection, you know?” Elli smiled, but changed the subject, not knowing

really how to respond to such a declaration. “I love Carnevale,” she confided as they walked past a vendor hawking excessively expensive costumes. She lifted a glittering mask and held it to her face, winking at Aldo from behind it and laughing when he swooped in for a kiss that ended up with a feather almost poking out his eye. “I love walking among all the masked figures, even when they creep me out.” Aldo chuckled. “I have to admit, it gives you pause to think who’s behind them,” he said. “There’s always a frisson of danger and sensuality. Speaking of which …” He leaned in closer to kiss her, his big body shielding her from the crowds shoving past. Elli smiled, her lips curving up against his. Fortunately, Venice was a city of lovers, and no one paid any attention to them as they clung to each other. “I have something to tell you about, Elli. Something that might interest you.” Aldo’s smile was mischievous, and Elli laughed. “Why do I think this has something to do with sex?” “Guilty.” Aldo looked around comically and lowered his voice, drawing Elli off to the side of the street to try and avoid most of the crowds. “I’m a

member of a certain …club, shall we say? We only meet once a year, at a villa just outside Venice during Carnival week. Very exclusive, if you know what I mean. Exclusive and … open-minded.” Elli felt her pulse race, both intrigued and a little nervous. “Go on.” “For one night, we leave all our inhibitions behind. Anything goes. We wear masks …and nothing else. We fuck and are fucked by anyone who turns us on. Sometimes threesomes. Foursomes. It’s basically an orgy.” Elli was vaguely shocked and yet also excited. “And you’ve taken part in this?” Aldo nodded, watching her seriously. “You already know I’m a pretty uninhibited guy, Elli.” Elli considered for a long moment. “Safe sex is practiced?” “Of course.” He leaned forward, tracing his finger on her bottom lip as he spoke in a low voice. “You know one of my fantasies is to watch you being fucked by another man, Elli. Do you think me strange?” “No,” she said carefully, “I think as long as it’s consensual and doesn’t involve physical harm, I think whatever turns you on is fine. And I want to

make you happy.” “What would make you happy, Elli?” She smiled, knowing he would feel better if she revealed her own personal kink. “You know, being fucked by two men—as long as one of them was you—wouldn’t be objectionable to me.” She considered it and realized she was actually excited about the prospect. Aldo had definitely released the kinkier side of her, and that could only be a good thing, she thought. “Will there be anyone we know there?” “Not that you know. I believe Maceo and Ori are always invited but never come.” Elli was relieved. “Good. I don’t know if I could face them again if they were there.” Since January, she had been spending a lot of time with the Bartoli’s, and they had become good friends. Aldo laughed. “You realize we all wear masks all the time, right? Anyway, afterward, some of us head to Maceo’s gallery for his Carnival party. There, you will know a few people, obviously. So what do you say?” Elli kissed him, buoyed by his enthusiasm and her sudden arousal. “Let’s do it.”

TWO DAYS LATER , she wasn’t so brave as they traveled to the mansion. She clutched Aldo’s hand, feeling very exposed and vulnerable, naked under the long, silver-grey cloak she wore. Aldo leaned over to kiss her, his mask alongside hers in a box on the opposite seat of his limousine. “Don’t be scared, baby. No one will touch you unless you give your permission.” That made her feel better, but as they stepped out of the limousine, and Aldo helped her put on the beautifully-made Colombina mask, a half mask that covered her eyes, upper cheeks, and nose. It was a deep claret color, decorated with gold and laser cut lace and crystals. Aldo tied the black ribbons fastenings for her. “You look stunning, Elliana.” His own mask was slightly more frightening. In the Bauta style, it was stark and disturbing in its expression. Black and gold, it hid his entire face and his hair, which Elli had noticed, was longer than it had been when they met, curling as it grew out. She touched her lips to the mask’s cold ones. “Whatever happens, I love you.” “Whatever happens, I know you’re mine, Elliana.” They walked into the candlelit villa and a servant took their cloaks. Elli was a little hesitant. “Your cloak, miss?” The servant didn’t blink as she

shyly pulled the cloak from her shoulders, exposing her naked body. She took Aldo’s arm, and he led her up a grand staircase, gold-and-silver-gilt, with marble everywhere. The ceilings were painted in scenes of cherubs and Valentines shooting arrows. This place made Aldo’s home look like a provincial farmhouse, Elli thought, and gave a nervous giggle. The colors of the furnishings, the curtains, and the masks of the other guests were all sensual and sumptuous. When they entered the main room, heads—or rather, masks—turned to stare at them. Aldo made a gesture, sweeping his hand down Elli’s body as if presenting her, and Elli felt a hot rush of shyness. She stepped back a little, but Aldo wasn’t going to let her get away with running and led her forward into the crowd. It was unnerving, especially when a few minutes later, a masked man with a blankfaced mask and a huge erection came to introduce himself to her. “You are very beautiful,” he said, in a heavilyaccented voice. French, Elli guessed as the man turned to Aldo. “Your lady has easily the most wonderful body in this room. I would very much like to fuck her.” Aldo turned his masked face to Elli. “Ask her, my friend. If she says yes, then I am happy for you to

take her …as long as I may watch and perhaps join in.” “Of course.” The other man turned back to Elli, who was trembling with nerves and excitement. She was really going to do this, wasn’t she? And Aldo, and other people, would watch her being fucked … she had to admit, she was aroused by the thought. Thank god for Carnivals and masks, she thought. She nodded when the man asked for her permission, then took his hand, clasping Aldo’s with the other as they walked over to one of the large chaise-lounges that surrounded the main room. On a table at the side, Elli saw lube, condoms, and sex toys arranged artfully, as well as glass bowls of water and bottles of champagne on ice. Her suitor grabbed a bottle of champagne. “What say, friend, that we cover this beautiful woman in the finest champagne and use our tongues to lick it from her beautiful skin That should get her good and wet and make her relax.” “A fine idea,” said Aldo. “Then perhaps we can both fuck her.” The man nodded, holding his hand out for Aldo to shake. He shook the bottle and popped the cork, spraying the liquid all over Elli, who gasped at the cold liquid on her hot skin. Then, as promised, the

two men proceeded to lick every drop from her. The first time the stranger’s tongue touched her sex, Elli tightened up, but Aldo, seeing this, bent his mouth to her ear. “It’s okay, Elli. It is. Just relax; this is all for you.” He took the bottle of champagne, poured out a flute and popped a pill into the drink, dissolving it. “This will help you relax.” Elli, quivering with nerves and excitement, downed the champagne in one gulp, and in a few seconds, she felt her head whirl and the sensations the two men were sending through her body became more intense the more mellow she felt. She placed her trust entirely in them. The suitor’s cock was in her then, huge and rampant, thrusting hard. She didn’t even realize she was still standing until she felt Aldo push his cock into her ass, supporting her as both the men fucked her. “You have an exquisite cunt,” the suitor said, panting, but Elli was almost delirious with pleasure then, gasping and crying as she was fucked to the most intense orgasm of her life. The suitor came, thanking her as he pulled out. then Aldo’s cock was inside her, fucking her hard. “That was incredible,” he said, ramming his hips hard against hers, his cock reaming her into submission. Elli came again and again, feeling

woozy and like her body wasn’t her own as she fucked Aldo. They had attracted an audience, and Eli found she liked the feeling of being watched as she was made love to. Four other men made approaches, and she gave permission for two of them to fuck her. The men she turned –down— mostly out of exhaustion—simply nodded, shook her hand, and moved on. Elli was amazed how safe she felt in this bizarre, erotic situation. Never had she dreamed she would be a part of this world.

HOURS LATER , she and Aldo left the erotic party on their way to Maceo’s own gala, via their favorite pizza restaurant first. “Did you enjoy that, my darling love?” Aldo asked over a cheesy bite. “It was …out of this world. But I am glad it’s only once a year. I think I broke my vagina.” She grinned up at him, her eyes soft with love. Aldo chuckled. “It will weird to go back to normal life for a few hours, I warn you.” Then he eyed her dress, which she’d put on after showering their earlier antics away. “I thought you were going to wear that red dress again?” Elli looked down at the lilac, form-fitting dress she

wore, grateful she’d kept all traces of pizza off it. “You don’t like this?” “You look beautiful …I just love you in red, is all. No problem.” He grinned and kissed her, but Elli had thought, for a moment, she had seen something else in his eyes. Anger. What was that about? But he chatted away to her, and clearly, there was nothing bothering him now, so she brushed it off as her imagination. They wandered the streets, finishing off their meal before arriving at Maceo’s water-front gallery. It was already packed with people, some of them still wearing masks from the various Carnival parties around the city. Elli hoped that she wouldn’t recognize any of the masks from the orgy. Orianthi Bartoli broke away from the crowds and threw her arms around Elli as soon as she spotted the couple. “I’m so glad you came!” she exclaimed, kissing Aldo’s cheek before whisking Elli off to introduce her to some people, who, Elli found, had already been briefed about her. Some of them knew about the nasty op-ed about her and were firmly on her side. “I’ve read all your work for the last few years,” said one rather stately gentleman. “And whatever idiot wrote that piece is a fool.” Several other people said the same, and Elli was starting to feel appreciated and valued as she talked

to the people Ori introduced to her. She spent what felt like hours discovering the artists and artisans who worked with Ori and Maceo and was introduced to some of their international friends too. Grady Mallory and his wife Floriana, Theo and Jessica Storm, and Maceo's best friends, Benoit and Lisander, both alone, as their wives were both home with their children. Ori grinned at Elli. “They have a million kids between them—personally, I don’t know how Shiloh and Kate keep up.” “Do you have plans for any more after this one?” Ori glanced down at her swollen belly. “Right now, I’d rather shove needles in my ears, but ask me again when this little monster is two or three. Of course, by that time,” she said in a stage-whisper as she saw her husband approach. “Maceo will be way too old for any more kids.” Maceo, gloriously handsome in his early fifties, chuckled. “Yeah, well, that’ll teach you for marrying an old man.” Ori chuckled. “My old man,” she said and kissed him. Elli grinned at the happy couple and excused herself to find Aldo. She saw him talking to Theo and Jess Storm. Jess

smiled at her as Elli took Aldo’s hand. “Hello again …oh, are you two together?” Elli nodded, smiling. She looked down at Jess and Theo’s daughter, Lily, who stood shyly at her mother’s side. “Are you having a good time, Lily?” Lily blushed red and nodded, half-hiding behind her mother. Jess chuckled, looking apologetically at Elli. “She’s still a little jetlagged. We only got to Italy this morning.” “How long are you here? It would be lovely to have lunch sometime.” Jess looked regretful. “Only until tomorrow, I’m afraid, but if you ever get over to Seattle, I would love to see you.” Seattle. There it was again. Elli smiled at Jess as she, Theo, and Lily said goodbye. Then Aldo turned his attention back to Elli. “I take it those were your Seattle friends you mentioned?” Aldo smiled. “Yes, and now that you’ve met Theo and Jess, maybe I can persuade you to take a break with me there?” Elli laughed at his mischief. “You can, but not just yet. We have a busy month coming up.”

She was starting to feel tired now, and noticing, Aldo kissed her cheek. “I just have to go speak to someone,” he said. “I’ll be back in a moment, and we’ll go home.” Elli used the time alone to look around at the art works, wondering why she’d never come here before. She was staggered by the beauty and artistry in the gallery. Maceo Bartoli had certainly put on an exquisite show. Elli finished her drink and looked for somewhere to set her glass down. She moved through the audience and found a table. She was putting her drink down when she heard a man talking. His voice was low, mellifluous—and heartbreaking familiar. All the breath left her lungs as she turned and saw him. From the back, his hair looked shorter, neater, and not as wild, but still that glorious dark brown. The person he was talking to was distracted by someone interrupting, and the brown-haired man turned around, his bright green eyes fixing on her. Elli saw him pale a –little—he looked as shocked as she was—but still, he was the most gloriously beautiful man she had ever seen. At that moment, and with a sinking heart, Elli realized there was, and always would be, only one man she truly loved, and he was standing right in front of her.

Indio.

“DARLING , shall we go? You look a little ill.” Go away, Aldo, go away …Elli pushed past him and sought out her lost love, but he had gone. The look he had given her had been one of hatred. Indio hates me? Why? How? She pushed through the guests, getting more and more upset as she sought out her lost love, the man who had broken her heart —her Indio. She wanted to scream his name out to make him stop and come to her, but she couldn’t find him anywhere. She was on the steps of the art gallery when Aldo caught up with her, his face creased with concern. “What is it, darling? What happened?” Elli couldn’t speak for a moment. How cruel to give her that one look, that one glance of him …was it a cruel joke? Just as she was getting used to letting a new man into her heart? God. Aldo’s hand was on her back now, and she forced herself to turn to him, knowing her pain was written all over her face. “I just …saw an old friend. A friend of my brother’s …I haven’t seen in him eight years.” And I still love him. God help me, but it only took

that one look to prove that Indio Navaro has my heart captive. Elli started to cry, and Aldo, seeming to sense her despair, merely wrapped his arms around her and held her as she sobbed. Usually his arms warmed her, but tonight she found no comfort or heat against his big body. Even when partygoers looked at her in concern, Elli couldn’t find a way to pull herself together, until Aldo finally led her to a car and guided her inside. He patiently sat with her in his lap, not asking any questions, but simply accepting her sudden torrent of grief. And even that infuriated Elli unfairly. Why didn’t he ask more questions? Why didn’t he offer to fix the situation? Of course, she hated it when he tried to fix things and he couldn’t fix this ever, anyway, but her rational mind seemed to have fled along with Indio … After a long, long time, Elli drew herself back from Aldo’s sodden shirt, and although she knew she owed him an explanation, she asked him to take her back to her apartment. “I just need some time,” she said. “Seeing him was like my brother being back in the room for a moment.” It was only half a lie. Aldo kissed her damp cheeks. “Of course, my love, take all the time you need. I am always with you.” Half of her didn’t want to let him go, knowing if she were alone, she would brood. He escorted into

the apartment, then insisted on getting her some aspirin before making sure she was okay. Elli swallowed them with some water and curled up on her bed. Aldo bent down and kissed her forehead. “Call me when you’re ready, my darling. I’ll have a bodyguard outside your door.” And he was gone. Elli dragged a couple of deep but shaky breaths into her lungs, but the sobs came easily until she cried herself out and fell into a deep sleep.

A gentle knocking at her door. Elli opened her eyes. From the blue light in the room, she guessed it was just before dawn. She dragged herself out of bed, shuffling her way to the front door. Why did she feel as if she were walking in mud? She leaned against the door as she looked through the peep hole—and everything in her world changed. Her heart thumping, she pulled open the door. Indio Navaro looked at her with hooded, troubled eyes. Elli didn’t know how to form words to speak to him. He looked haunted, desolate—and so beautiful she could cry, his green eyes intense on hers, his dark lashes thick and full. Indio stepped forward and took her face in his hands, pressing his lips to hers, and it was like a shot of pure heroin in her veins. She kissed him back, pulling him into the room, and pulling at his clothes as he tore her dress from her shoulders. Both naked, Indio swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, his eyes never leaving her face. When he covered her body with his, Elli wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close, not believing that finally, finally, she held him in her arms. Indio kissed her passionately, and then she felt him slide his long, thick cock into her ready cunt. Elli was in heaven, her heart exploding with love and desire and a never-ending need.

They made love slowly at first, then as it got more and more intense, Indio picked up his pace, long measured strokes driving her on and on toward ecstasy. Elli couldn’t take his eyes off his beautiful face. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him and had always, would always love him, but it somehow didn’t need to be said. It was there in the meeting of their bodies, in the shivering, trembling climax that they both shared as they gasped for air, panting and moaning with desire. This was love. Elli knew it in her soul. She tangled her fingers in his dark curls as he gazed down at her. You are mine, I am yours …forever …

E LLI WOKE, shivering and sobbing, still wearing the lilac dress she had worn to the exhibit. For a long moment, she panicked, stumbling out of bed to try to find him. But Indio was nowhere. It had been a dream; he had never been there. Elli sank to the floor, her head in her hands, and sobbed until she had no tears left.

SOMEHOW , a week passed. A whole week since the masked orgy, Maceo’s party, and, of course, seeing Indio again. The fact that both the orgy and Indio had happened on the same evening made things

even more surreal. She’d spent the afternoon fucking various men with abandon, only to spend her evening mourning the one man she’d never fucked or even made love with. All that lust, desire, and love, then the shock of seeing the hatred on Indio’s face … Elli felt broken by the entwined memories. Aldo was patient, as always, but she knew he was getting frustrated by her pre-occupation and by the obvious half-truths she was telling him. When questioned, she would insist that it had brought back memories of her brother and that she missed him terribly, but she realized Aldo knew that it wasn’t just her grief. Still, he didn’t press her. Nor did he push her for sex, which they hadn’t had since that night. Elli couldn’t. Something in her had closed off at the sight of Indio, even as wild questions had opened up. Why was he at the party in the first place? Why had Indio looked at her like that? If he didn’t want to speak to her, he could have just smiled and nodded, then walked away. She would know, then, that he was happy and safe—that he still cared, but he still had to go away from her. That would have been fine, Elli thought. But the anger in his eyes … what had she done to deserve it? Why does he hate me?

And then there were the phone calls. Her stalker was back, and his threats were ever more violent and descriptive. Aldo reported it to the police and even had his own people try to trace the calls to no avail. It was remarkable how much her tormentor could say in under a minute, the threats keeping her sleepless and scared. Elli finally decided that she needed to be proactive. She went to Maceo Bartoli’s gallery and asked to see him. People obviously couldn’t just stroll straight in and ask to speak to such an important man, but as soon as the receptionist gave Maceo Elli’s name, he hurried downstairs. Maceo was surprised but delighted to see her. He gave her a hug and kissed her cheeks. “Elli, please, come in. I’ll make some coffee.” She went into his plush office, the one he shared with Ori, and there was artwork everywhere, both desks piled high with papers. Maceo brewed some coffee, and they sat on one of the velvet couches next to the huge glass window, overlooking the Lagoon. The beautiful afternoon light reflecting off the water almost brought Elli a sense of peace, as it once had. Almost, but not quite. They chatted informally for a few minutes before Maceo got to the point, obviously busy. “So, what can I do for you, Elli? I’m sorry Ori isn’t here, but

she’s gone to Milan with Lucia to see an artist, despite the fact she’ll give birth any moment, the crazy woman. She never stops. She’ll be sorry she missed you.” “And I, her, Maceo, but it’s you I’ve come to see.” Elli took a deep breath. “I need to ask you about one of your guests, and I hope it’s not overstepping, but this guest and I go way back.” Maceo’s smile faded and he sighed. “Indio.” Elli was shocked. “You …you know about Indio and me?” Maceo nodded. “I have been friends with Indio for the last few years. He doesn’t often come back to Venice; once, when we were drinking, I asked him why. He told me that the woman he loved was in Venice and that if he saw her, he would break her heart again. I saw you two staring at each other at the party and guessed who that woman was.” Elli’s heart was beating out of her chest and she almost stood up from the couch, so wired were her nerves suddenly. “He loves me?” “Completely. But he’s also haunted, I think, by his past. There was another woman, a woman he loved. I’ve never known the whole story, but I think she died.”

“Yvetta.” Elli’s heart was sinking and she closed her eyes. God, it couldn’t be true that Indio would kill another person, a woman …but the hatred she had seen in his eyes that night at the party … “Elli? Are you okay?” Maceo leaned forward as she opened her eyes, his handsome face creased with concern, and Elli nodded. “Maceo …was there something going on between Indio and Aldo at one time? A business deal, or a friendship perhaps?” It was a question she desperately needed an answer to, while simultaneously dreading it. Maceo looked uncomfortable. “Elli, you should know that I don’t know Aldo all that well. He sought me out about a year ago, wanting some paintings for his house and also to commission an artist for a painting. We got to talking and he mentioned his fiancée had been murdered, and that he knew Ori had been attacked a few years ago, and did I have any advice? I just told him that it never gets easier, losing someone you love. Thankfully, Ori survived, but the man who attacked her killed three of my friends. Aldo seemed a little …lost. When we saw him with you, he looked like a new man.” He smiled at her and Elli felt the tension lift a little. “Elli, all I can tell you is to

follow your heart, whether it be Indio or Aldo. Don’t be afraid to get hurt because it’ll happen anyway.” He got up and went to his desk, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. “Indio will probably kill me for this, but here.” He handed it to Elli. It was an address out in the countryside. “It’s where Indio is hiding out. He still designs and builds houses, except now he doesn’t have to advertise his business. Go to him. Talk. Be happy.” Elli stared at the address, thoughts tumbling through her, before she got to her feet. “Thank you, Maceo. I mean it. And good luck with the baby.” Maceo grinned. “Thank you. I can’t wait to see him or her. I’ll let you know when the baby arrives.” They exchanged a goodbye kiss on the cheek and Ellie departed, feeling lighter as she walked home from the gallery through the streets and over the bridges, breathing in the smells of the canals, the street food, and the people. She would go and see Indio and finally have it out with him—seek closure so she could give herself entirely to Aldo, as he deserved. There was a small hope inside her that Indio would beg her to stay with him, to love him, and Elli knew, in her heart, she would go.

No, stop it. You’re going to him for closure and that’s it. Aldo loves you and you love him. Elli drew in a deep breath and when she got back to her apartment, she was happy to see Aldo waiting for her outside. He smiled at her, but it didn’t quite cover the hurt in his eyes. “I haven’t seen you for days,” he said lightly. “So, I thought I’d come to you. I was about to text you to see if you were nearby.” Elli took his hand and led him upstairs. She made him sit with her on her couch. “Aldo …I haven’t been honest with you and I’m sorry. Please know this first …I love you. You are the best man for me in this world.” “Why do I sense a ‘but?’” Aldo’s eyes were wary even though he stroked her cheek with his hand. “But,” she smiled to soften the blow. “For years now, there has been someone who I have been … preoccupied with. My brother’s best friend. As you know, I saw him at the party, and since then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about ‘what might have been.' I need closure. I need closure so that I can finally put him behind me and give myself entirely to you.” Aldo was studying her. “Why haven’t you told me this before?”

Elli chewed her lip. “Right now, I can’t tell you. I suppose I never thought this would be an issue. I’m going to see him, to talk things over, to put it to rest.” Aldo was silent for a long moment, his big body tense. He looked at her. “Elli, you have to do what you think is right. Go see him, seek the closure. Then come back and tell me if you want me. Whatever happens when you see him stays there. Whatever happens.” Eli was a little shocked. “Aldo, I’m not going to do anything but talk to him.” He looked at her a little sadly. “Are you sure?” No. “Of course I am.” She leaned forward and kissed him, trying to ease some of that tension; it was a little frightening, seeing his huge, muscled body so tense. Elli realized he could easily break her in two without even trying. Why would you think that right now? She shook her head and wrapped her arms around Aldo’s neck. “Take me to bed, Aldo. Let me show you how much you mean to me.” He pulled her roughly into his arms, kissing her fiercely, and rolling her under him on the couch. He pushed up her skirt and ripped her panties away,

Elli gasping as the cotton snapped against her skin. Aldo was rock-hard as she freed his cock from his pants, and then he was driving his cock into her, hard and mercilessly. Elli gasped at the violence of it, but was turned on by his lust. She clung to him as he fucked her, ramming his hips against hers. then pinning her hands above her head. His eyes seemed to darken from hazel-green to dark brown as they bore into hers, his face almost angry. Elli arched her back as she came, and Aldo withdrew, moving down her body, biting at her breasts and belly, then clamping to her sex and teasing her clit until she was almost weeping with desire. Then his cock was back inside her, punishing her, slamming into her with such force the couch was moving. Finally, Aldo came hard, groaning her name again and again and pumping thick, creamy semen deep into her cunt. “God, I love you. I love you,” he said, burying his face in her neck. “Don’t ever leave me. Please don’t leave me …if you do, I’ll …god, I love you, Elli, Elli, Elli …” Eli held him in her arms, shocked at the emotion he was displaying—the vulnerability. How could she think of Indio when this man in her arms loved her and needed her so entirely? And yet …when she fell asleep that night, it was

Indio poised above her, his cock driving her toward orgasm, his face masked. And when she came, he stabbed her again and again before tearing off his mask and telling her loved her as he watched her die. This time, when Elli woke crying from the nightmare, she stayed very silent, making sure not to wake Aldo.

THE NIGHTMARE WAS STILL fresh in her mind as she drove the rental car out to Indio’s farmhouse. She parked way down the hill and walked the rest of the way, not wanting to give away her presence just yet. As she approached the farmhouse, a little ramshackle but rustic and charming nevertheless, she heard hammering out in one of the workshops to the side of the main building. Nervously, she smoothed the skirt of her lilac dress, worn deliberately because she knew it was Indio’s favorite color, then walked to the door of the workshop. It was open slightly and she peeked in. Indio, dressed just in shorts, was hammering nails into a table he’d obviously built. The ferocity with which he banged the hammer down was daunting. An unlit cigarette hung out of the corner of his mouth, three days of beard on his face. His hair was as wild as she remembered, not tidied for a party,

with long curls and waves in a shock about his head. His thick eyebrows shaded those incredible green eyes of his, his brow furrowed both in concentration and anger. Elli watched him for a few minutes, all that feral beauty and rage. His body wasn’t sculpted from working out, but rather from working with his hands—muscled arms, taut chest, flexed back, and a flat belly. He once was, and still remained Elli realized, the handsomest man she’d ever seen. Yes, even more so than Aldo, she thought guiltily. No one could touch what Indio did to her, just by being a few feet away. She suddenly smelled cigarette smoke and opened her eyes. Indio stood, gazing at her, his expression unreadable. Frozen momentarily by that intense gaze straight out of her darkest memories, Elli mustered up her courage and cautiously stepped into the workshop. “Hello, Indio.” They were the first words she’d spoken to him in years and they didn’t come close to saying anything of value. But he was watching her … watching her … and she couldn’t find the breath to form more words, suddenly. Silence. Indio dragged a long toke on his cigarette, still gazing at her. Finally, he spoke. “Hello, Elli.”

Oh, dear god, that voice. All chocolate and raspy and low—sexy didn’t begin to cover it. Elli stepped toward him, her eyes searching his. “How have you been?” God, how lame. Indio didn’t answer her at first, then he looked away. “You shouldn’t be here.” Ouch. Elli tried again. “Indio …it’s been years. Can we talk?” “About what?” About how much I fucking love you, you asshole. Elli felt tears spring into her eyes and pressed her palms to her thighs to keep from reaching out physically to him. “Indio …please.” “Whatever it is you want, Elli, I can’t give you. It would be …dangerous for you and I won’t have that. And if you had any sense you would realize that Aldo Constanza is dangerous for you too.” Elli stood her ground. “I’m a big girl, Indio. I can make my own decisions.” Indio gave a mirthless laugh. “And your decision was to come here today and what? What is it you want, Elli?” Elli drew in a breath and decided to go with the plain truth. “You, Indio. I want you.”

Indio dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it out. “You want me? How? How do you want me?” Elli was trembling, but she was too far gone now. “With me. Inside me. I love you, Indio. I’ve always loved you.” In two steps, he was with her, crushing his lips against hers. Elli gasped at the ferocity of his kiss, and when he pulled away, the desire and anger in his eyes. “You want me inside you?” She nodded, everything and everyone out flying out of her mind as Indio pushed her skirt up and tore her panties from her. Her hands moved as with a mind of their own, cupping his hard-on, then freeing it and touching it at last, the silky skin belying the diamond-hard muscle beneath. And then he was inside her and Elli sighed with the release of eight years of tension. His mouth was on hers again as they fucked, Indio forcing her back against the rough stone wall. Sharp stones dug into her back but she couldn’t have cared less about the pain. Indio, her Indio, was in her arms, his green eyes fixed on hers, his cock, huge and thick, driving her on to the most sublime orgasm of her life. “I love you. I love you,” she whispered over and over, crying with happiness, and when he tumbled

her to the dusty floor and fucked her again, Elli knew that this was where she wanted to be. As Indio came, he groaned her name and came long and hard. Elli didn’t want him to pull out, but he did, rolling away from her and putting his head in his hands. Elli reached for him, but he ducked away. “Go. You need to go, Elli. Now. And don’t come back. Please trust me in this. If you stay, you’ll be in danger. Please …” “Indio …” “Go!” He roared and stood, hauling her to her feet and marching her to the door. “You got what you wanted. Go!” Elli was shocked to her core. “No, Indio, please don’t …” He tried to shove her out of the door, then seemed to realize how violent he was being and let her go. He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes squeezed shut. “Please, Elli …please go. I can’t do this.” Tears poured down Elli’s cheeks—how could she have gone from heaven to hell in a few seconds? “Please don’t send me away …I love you so much, Indio. I always have …”

Indio’s face creased in pain and he wouldn’t look at her. “I can’t be with you. Not when …he’s around. You’re not safe.” Somehow his words got through to her, and as she wiped her face from her tears, she asked the question she didn’t want to know the answer to. “Indio, it’s not true …please tell me it’s not true … tell me you didn’t kill Yvetta ...did you kill Yvetta?” For a long moment, Indio squeezed his eyes shut, then, with haunted eyes, he gazed at her. “Yes,” he said simply and closed the door in her face.

HOLLOWED OUT AND EMPTY, Elli drove straight to Aldo’s home, not really registering where she was going. She found him in his study, working. He looked up and smiled, but Elli didn’t return the expression. He stood and reached for her, but she backed away. Indio’s scent was still on her. She could still feel his arms around her and see the despair in his green eyes as he shoved her bodily away, shouting. “Aldo …did Indio Navaro build this house for you?” She saw his shoulders slump. “Yes.” “And did he and Yvetta have an affair?”

Aldo nodded, his eyes wary. “And then he murdered her. In this house. In your bedroom. Where we make love. Is that correct?” Again, Aldo nodded. “Elli, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you knew him.” “I went to see him this afternoon and I fucked him.” Elli felt dead inside, but she was still shaken by the look of hurt in Aldo’s eyes. Aldo drew in a deep breath and took a step back. “I did say what happens there, stays there.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “But, damn, Elli. Why did you have to tell me?” “Because you would have wondered and I want to be honest with you. If you want me to go, just say. I never wanted to hurt you, Aldo, but I can see that’s what I have done. I cheated and I’m sorry.” Aldo shook his head, sitting down heavily on the couch. For once, Elli didn’t feel like she could sit beside him. “No. I said you were to do what your heart told you to. I don’t count that as cheating.” “He told me he killed Yvetta.” Aldo’s eyebrows shot up. “He confessed to it?” Elli nodded. “Aldo, why didn’t you have him arrested?”

“You sound angry at him.” “Please answer my question.” Aldo sighed. “Because there was no evidence that he had done it, apart from their affair. The police questioned him, but for some reason, he was released without charge. I have no doubt he stabbed Yvetta to death.” He got up then and came to her, and Elli let him pull her into his arms. It felt right … and yet so wrong. “He’s a dangerous, sick man, Elli. When I think of you alone with him—god.” Elli wanted to protest, to tell Aldo that Indio would never hurt her, but inside, she didn’t believe it herself. Indio was so changed. So angry. She stood in Aldo’s arms for a long time before Aldo made her look at him. “Just tell me. Do you love me?” Elli nodded. “Yes, Aldo, I love you.” “Do you love him?” She hesitated, then nodded again. “I’m sorry, but, yes, I do. I’m trying not to.” Aldo stroked a finger down her cheek. “I know. I know.” He sighed, and Elli watched as a million emotions went over his face.

“Aldo, if you wanted to end things with me, I wouldn’t blame you.” “God, no,” he breathed. “That would kill me, Elli. Just kill me. Elli, you have no idea how much you mean to me. I want to be with you forever. I was hoping your …obsession …with Indio would be dampened by meeting with him, but I can live with it.” “I’m not obsessed,” Elli said, a little stung. “Indio and I just have history.” Aldo gave her a soft smile. “Was he your first?” Elli shook her head. “No, it was more than sex, it was …” She struggled for a moment. “We didn’t have sex at all. We were just very, very close friends. Indio was my brother’s best friend. That part I didn’t lie about. But I fell in love with him— completely. He was my world. Then something happened between him and my brother and he went away.” “You were heartbroken.” “Yes. And it didn’t start to heal until I met you, Aldo, and that is the truth.” Aldo leaned over and pressed his lips against hers, apparently not caring that she’d been kissing Indio only minutes back. But Elli cared. Indio’s lips were

so different. Aldo’s lips held a kind of despair of their own, though, she realized as he kissed her hard again and then pulled back. “Elli …we’ve both made mistakes. Maybe your brother discovered Indio’s true nature. I don’t know. But, god, Elli, please, don’t go near him again. For your own safety. I couldn’t bear it if he hurt you. I still see the blood on Yvetta’s dress …there were so many stab wounds, the medical examiner had to check and recheck he’d counted right. He gutted her. Indio Navarro gutted Yvetta because she wouldn’t leave me. If he were to do the same to you …” Aldo dropped his head in his hands and gave a sob, and Elli wrapped her arms around him. “He won’t, Aldo. I swear. It’s over now. I have closure.” Elli wondered just how many times she would have to tell herself that before she believed it.

A BOTTLE of scotch and two packs of cigarettes, both now empty, lay on the ground next to Indio. He sat back against the stone wall surrounding his property, staring into the inky black night. He was aware that it was still winter and that the temperature had dropped to just above freezing, but he didn’t care. He felt as if he had been hit by a

sledgehammer, worse than when he’d seen Elli weeks back, dressed in lilac at the party. Turning around and suddenly seeing his Elli Bella, his best friend’s little sister, looking more beautiful than he had ever dreamed, he’d been torn between storming over to her and running away. She was staring at him in that same way she had the last time they had seen each other, when she had told him she loved him and he had wanted so desperately to tell her that she was the love of his life, the one person he would never hurt and yet … he had done just that. That day he had broken not just his heart, but hers too, and he would never forgive himself. Two steps, a voice told him. She’s two steps away. Go to her, kiss her, tell her you’re sorry, and never, ever let her go. Ever. He had taken one step and then seen a man take Elli’s arm. The spell was broken. Indio had felt another sledgehammer, this time one filled with hatred and loathing. Aldo Constanza. You bastard. No, you don’t get to love her. You don’t get to touch my Elli. But by the way Aldo was behaving, there had

obviously been something more than friendship between them. He’d watched Aldo bend down and kiss her perfect mouth, then Elli’s shocked look of dismay as she looked back at Indio to see if he had seen it. He had. And he had fled. Indio rocked his head back against the stone wall, welcoming the light thud of pain. Elli. His Elli Bella had come here, and finally, after all these years, he had felt joy. Her beautiful smile, the feel of her lips against his, and the way her body curved into his as he made love to her. No. That wasn’t making love—it was the desperate fucking of a man who couldn’t be with the woman he loved. That wasn’t the tender lovemaking he’d dreamed about for years, that was the only comfort in his solitary world. He’d imagined the first time he and Elli would have sex to be a relaxed, fun time together, laughing just like they had in the old days. He had lived for the moments when the shy, young girl would come to see him. Enzo would roll his eyes and make himself scarce, and Elli would snuggle under the blanket with Indio to watch old movies. They had never even kissed until that terrible day when he’d gone away. He knew she was in love with him, of course,

because he felt the same way. He was done. He had the girl of his dreams and he was done. Elli was his entire world; there wasn’t one cell in his body that doubted they would be together forever. Then Enzo’s girlfriend, Imelda, for whatever reason, had accused Indio of assaulting her. Indio denied it vehemently, but the damage to his and Enzo’s friendship was fatal, even if Indio could see that Enzo didn’t believe his girlfriend. He and Imelda had broken up anyway and Indio had been banished. There was no way Enzo would let him near Elli, regardless of his innocence. Indio had begged him not to send him away, but Enzo wouldn’t bend. And so, Indio exiled himself. For years he worked everywhere else but Italy. He settled in Seattle for a time, making friends, but then he met Yvetta and his world fell apart. Indio pulled himself to his feet and shuffled into the house, falling fully clothed onto his bed. If he died right there, he couldn’t have cared less …except Elli was in trouble. Real, bad, desperate trouble, and he didn’t know if she knew it. The terrifying thing, Indio thought as he gave into drunken unconsciousness, was that he didn’t know if he could save her—or if he would end up causing her a long, painful death.

TWO MONTHS . Elli counted the days since she had seen Indio—touched him, kissed him, fucked him —and knew she shouldn’t torture herself. Things with Aldo had been steady, but now he wanted more from her. It had started with him insisting she join him for a business trip to America. Elli had arranged the time off from work, apologetically, as she knew they were busy. Vivienne had taken her aside. “I’m worried about you, Els. You’re too pale and you’ve lost a ton of weight.” “I’m good, honest.” Elli hadn’t told Viv about seeing—and sleeping with—Indio. She couldn’t bear to say his name aloud, not even to her close friend. “Darling, Aldo isn’t being too controlling, is he? I’ve noticed. Lately, he’s around more, telling you what to do …” Elli shook her head. “It’s fine. He’s worried about my psycho stalker, is all.” “Well, I can understand that. Any news on that?” Elli half-smiled. “Well, whoever he is, he’s certainly imaginative in the ways he’s thought of to

kill me.” Vivienne shuddered. “Don’t joke.” “There, see? That’s how Aldo feels, so I’m handing over a little bit of control to make him feel better. He knows better than to push it.” But Elli wondered if he did know the boundaries she had set. As they packed, he told her to bring certain dresses or clothes—mostly red or white— and in the end, she got annoyed. “Who made you Anna Wintour?” she half-joked, half-snapped at him. He didn’t find it funny. “I’m just advising you because you haven’t traveled in the same circles as me and I don’t want you to be humiliated.” Elli flushed with anger. “Are you concerned that I’ll be humiliated or you’ll be humiliated? I’m sorry I’m such an embarrassment to you, Aldo.” She threw some of her favorite clothes into the case— pinks, browns, blacks, and lilacs—and then left him alone. She went out to the balcony to seeth, but five minutes later, she felt his arms slide around her waist and his lips on her neck. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m a jerk.” “Big jerk.”

“Big jerk.” He pulled her back against him, and she felt his erection press into the small of her back. “Got a bigger jerk for you, if you’re interested.” Elli had to laugh, and then he was pushing up her skirt. “Don’t turn around. Play our game. Pretend there are men down there, all wanting to fuck you.” He was inside her, but Elli felt strangely disconnected. Sex hadn’t been the same since Indio, but she didn’t want Aldo to know that so she made all the same noises. And it wasn’t as if the sex was bad—far from it. She just felt exhausted all the time, drained of emotion. Now, as she sat on Aldo’s private jet, flying over Paris at night, she gazed down at the lights beneath her. Aldo was watching her, a smile on his face. “Have you ever been?” “To Paris? Once, a couple of years ago. I was invited to interview a candidate in the election. Why, I don’t know. Anyway, I did it, and Le Monde picked it up after we published it.” “Feather in your cap.” Elli smiled at him. “It was, actually, although I never knew why he would choose an Italian journalist to cover his run in the French election. It did open a lot of doors for me.”

“Your talent did that, sweetheart. As for the Italian thing, your writing transcends nationality.” She smiled at him. “Thank you, baby.” Aldo got up and came to sit next to her. “Elli, we can be happy, can’t we?” “Of course.” “Because, right now, I don’t think you are happy.” He swept her hair back over her shoulder. It was on the tip of her tongue to lie to him, but then she just sighed. “I’m trying, Aldo. I swear. It’s just with this stalker thing and the crap in the gossip rags about me …it’s getting to me.” “And so is Indio Navaro.” Elli leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m trying, Aldo.” “I know. We’ll have fun in Seattle, I swear. I have a few meetings, but after that, we’ll go do the tourist thing.” “I’m looking forward to seeing Jess Storm, I have to say. I really liked her.” “Hmm.”

Elli looked up at him. “You don’t like her?” “What’s not to like? She’s lovely. I just wonder at seeing someone who might remind you of the night at the party.” Elli nuzzled his neck. “You know, seeing Indio wasn’t the only thing that happened that night.” Aldo smiled genuinely then. “Yes, the Masquerade orgy …I was surprised you took to it so quickly.” Was that a slur? She couldn’t tell, but chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I wanted to make you happy.” He kissed her. “Watching you get fucked by those men …god, that was a turn on.” Elli grinned at him. “Me and my vagina could tell.” “Talking about your vagina …there’s a bedroom in the back and I’m feeling a little …” Elli laughed, sliding her hand onto the growing bulge in his pants. “Well, well, well, hello.” With a growl, he bore her off to the bedroom, Eli giggling as he tickled her while undressing her. They made love slowly, kissing and enjoying the time together. This time, Elli actually felt something and was glad. Elli stroked the hair back from his

forehead. “Your hair is getting so long,” she said, suddenly noticing how long and curly his previously short hair was. Why hadn’t she seen it before? She felt bad then; how self-involved she had been. “You like it?” She nodded. “I do.” She didn’t add that it reminded her of Indio’s unruly mess of hair. That would kill the mood in a minute. *** After making love, Elli fell asleep, and when she woke, it was lighter outside the plane windows. Rubbing her eyes, she was suddenly aware of Aldo’s voice, angry and shouting in the main cabin. She pulled her dress back on and padded in to see what was wrong. Aldo’s face was red and contorted with anger as he yelled into his phone. “What the fuck? Who got those records? Well, I want them in my office in Seattle tomorrow. I don’t fucking care if they’re in Sydney. Make it fucking happen. And find out who sold the story to the papers.” He hadn’t seen her, and Elli watched him, with growing anxiety, beat his head with his hands, his face red and full of rage. “Baby?” Her voice was small, and he looked up.

For a second, the murderous rage in his eyes terrified her. But then his expression softened. “I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to wake you.” She went to him, and he kissed her. “Did you sleep okay?” She nodded. happened?”

“What

is

it,

honey?

What’s

Aldo drew in a lungful of air, obviously trying to keep his temper. “Someone sold a bullshit story about me in the papers. They’re saying my work in Uganda is a front for gun-running. Can you believe it? Why the hell would I need to sell weapons? I’m already a billionaire, for the love of god.” There was a sharp pang of adrenaline spiking through Elli. “Why on Earth would anyone say something so …random, like that?” Aldo sighed, pulling her into his arms. “Don’t worry about it, cara mia. I’ve had bad press before.” “Aldo, it’s not just bad press, it’s libelous. Have you spoken to your lawyers? What are the records you were talking about?” Aldo looked at her sharply, and for a second, she saw real anger. She took a step back.

“Aldo …” “You don’t ever question me again, Elli. Do you understand? Ever.” Elli swallowed hard as he stepped toward her, his voice low, dangerous. You’re not safe. Indio’s words came back to her. “It’s fine, Aldo. Forget I said anything.” But he didn’t back down. Rather, he advanced, his hands gripping her shoulders painfully. “I have been patient. Very patient with you, Elli, and your first thought is to condemn me.” What the hell? “I did no such thing,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, though his fingers were biting into her flesh so hard that she knew they would leave bruises. “I was trying to figure out our next move.” “That’s my job to figure out.” His hand was under her skirt, pushing her legs apart. “You know what your job is.” He freed his cock from his pants, and then he was in her, fucking her against the wall, his arm across her throat, his eyes fixed on hers. Elli was scared, scared of this man she was seeing for the first time. What the hell had happened? He’d changed in a flash. She went along with his love-making, although it

was far from love, feeling trapped and frightened, and afterward, when he’d withdrawn and immediately sat back down to his paperwork, she went back to the bedroom and let hot tears stream down her cheeks. She fell into an uneasy sleep, only waking to feel him slip an arm around her waist. Elli immediately stiffened, afraid. “Scuzi, Elli Bella,” Aldo said softly. “Forgive me, my darling. I was riled up and angry. I would never hurt you.” Still upset, Elli turned over to face him. “You treated me like a hole, Aldo. Just a hole to fuck.” “I’m sorry.” Elli was silent, studying his expression closely. He had all the appearance of contrition …but she didn’t believe he was sorry. She could see something else in his eyes …triumph. Nausea rose in her throat. She couldn’t speak, then, and just closed her eyes, wanting the pain to go away. She felt him kiss her, but she didn’t respond. “Elli Bella?” “Don’t call me that, please.” It hurt too much to hear Indio’s name for her in this man’s mouth. This man. God, like she hadn’t been dating Aldo for months. This man. Like he was a stranger.

Elli sighed and turned away from him. Aldo curved his body to meet hers, spooning her, but she didn’t respond.

THE TENSION between them remained as they landed in Seattle, and Elli was relieved when, after they had arrived at the hotel, Aldo excused himself to work. Elli went out into the city to walk around and see it for herself. She was excited to be there, and even more so when she saw the beauty of the place. The views over to the Olympic Mountains were breathtaking, Elliott Bay glittering in the late spring sun. It was a clear, blue-sky day, and Elli lost track of time, gathering tourist leaflets and mixing in with the Seattle crowds. In Pioneer Square, she found a small coffee house with outside seating and sat down to people-watch and catch her breath. Soon her mind was drifting back to the scenes on the plane. Now that the shock had passed, she was left feeling angry. How dare Aldo treat her like that? He’d made her feel like a whore, and worse than that, like a stupid little girl. He knew she’d had experience with handling bad press—and very recently too—so why on earth would he behave like that? The answer was in front of her, but she didn’t even

want to consider it. There was no way, no way Aldo was a gunrunner. It was ridiculous …wasn’t it? Elli drew in a deep lungful of breath. She was a journalist, right? So, go investigate, she told herself. Find out for yourself. She wondered if she could persuade Vivienne to sanction a trip to Uganda— without Aldo knowing. Now that he was an investor, Elli didn’t know how privy he was to the magazine’s accounts records. He would know what was up immediately if a plane ticket to Uganda showed up. Speaking of records …Elli’s investigative hackles were up now. Aldo worked from home …did he keep his records there? She would have to be careful, really careful. If he found out she was snooping … Elli felt energized for a second before the realization hit—she was about to investigate her boyfriend. The man she loved—didn’t she? She stared unseeing out into the busy street. What if she found out something that could put Aldo away? What if he was corrupt? What if his humanitarian causes were a cover for something more insidious? She kept returning to what Indio had told her. Aldo Constanza is a dangerous man. The familiar prickling started on the back of her neck, and she scanned the street for anyone who

might be watching her. Elli had to admit; since Indio, her paranoia had been off the charts, and so she would have to make sure any investigation she made was balanced. She knew she could rely on Vivienne for that. “Elliana Moretti, what the fuck are you doing in Seattle?” Her heart suddenly soared and she jumped up, turning to see Tandy Lee grinning at her. Almost in tears, Elli hugged her friend. “Oh my god, Tandy …Tandy …” Tandy hugged her, and when Elli released her, Tandy was frowning at her. “What’s up, bro? You look weird.” Elli tried to smile, but her emotions were in turmoil now, and instead, much to her great embarrassment, she burst into tears. *** Tandy whisked her friend to the nearest bar and bought them both double scotches, rubbing Elli’s arm as she tried to calm down. She had never seen her friend so distressed. Tandy had come to Seattle straight from her trip to India to see an old friend, but, as her friend had a last-minute meeting for work, Tandy had decided to

mooch around the city. She loved Seattle and always went there for a week or two to bookend a bigger trip. When she had seen Elli, of all people, sitting in that café and looking as unhappy as she’d ever seen her, she had been astonished. Now, though, worry was the only emotion she could feel. Elli, despite her natural beauty, looked drawn, ill, pale, and thin. Tandy made her sip her scotch as she waited for Elli to explain herself. Eventually, Elli told her about Indio, about his anger, about fucking him, about her guilt, and about things with Aldo going downhill …fast. When she had told Tandy everything, Elli rubbed her eyes, sighing. “I’m a mess, Tand.” Tandy blew out her cheeks. “Look, Els, let’s get to the crux of this. There are two men, both of whom you say you love. Both hate each other. Both have said pretty vicious things about each other. Both of whom have, and correct me if I’m wrong, been aggressive towards you.” “Indio wasn’t aggressive towards me. He was just trying to …” “Stop making excuses for Indio. He behaved appallingly. Didn’t you say he came at you—that the sex between you wasn’t lovemaking, but almost violent? And what happened with Aldo on the

plane? Wasn’t that the same thing?” Slowly, Elli shook her head. “Why not?” Tandy was amazed, and Elli dragged a shaky breath into her lungs. “Because I wanted Indio to fuck me and I didn’t care how he did it. He could have taken me at knifepoint and I would have still wanted him. I remember every single second of it, Tandy, and it’s like heaven to me. Even with what happened afterward.” Tandy stared at her in dismay. “You’re never going to get over him, are you?” “It’s why I feel so hopeless,” Elli muttered. “And now that it’s affecting how I feel about Aldo …” Tandy chewed her bottom lip. “Els, can I be brutally honest?” “Please, please do be. I need a kick in the butt.” Tandy sighed. “I think you need more than that, darling. I think you need to break things off with Aldo and get some space from both of them. Go back to work, do your thing, and be you again. Don’t fuck Indio again. At least not while you get your head together. If he wants you, he’ll come get you once he knows you’re not with Aldo, and then

you’ll know for sure.” Elli listened to her friend, and Tandy could see her shoulders easing and the tension fading. “You’re right. You’re right. God, of course that’s what I should do. Space. “ Tandy’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me, bub. Yeah, hey, Jess.” She listened as her caller spoke. “Well, sure …I do have another friend with me …Elliana Moretti.” She listened, then laughed and handed Elli her phone. “Someone wants a word.” Eli took the phone. “It’s a damn small world, Elli Moretti,” Jess Storm said, and Elli laughed. “Yes, yes, it is.”

JESS MET them a half hour later, hugging them both, her lovely face lighting up as she greeted them. “Two of my favorite people,” she said as she sat down, and Elli felt a rush of warmth. She’d only met Jess once, but she had formed an instant bond with the other woman. Jess Storm was a stunningly beautiful woman, with big, brown eyes, long chestnut hair pulled up in a scrappy, messy, sexy ponytail, and jeans and a t-shirt that were her obvious choice of uniform. A tomboy, Elli thought with a smile. Just like me and Tandy.

Jess tucked her legs up under her as she took a sip of soda. Tandy ribbed her gently about not drinking, and Jess flushed. Tandy gawked at her. “You’re not?” “Ssh, I’m not supposed to be telling anyone yet. I’m not even three months. We haven’t even told Lily yet.” Jess grinned widely. “It was an accident. We hadn’t planned to have any more—we were happy with Lily Bean. But now …god, I cannot wait to see him or her.” She suddenly studied Elli’s face. “Hey, are you okay? You look a little stressed out.” Elli smiled. “I’m okay. Just jetlagged.” Tandy gave a noise of disgust. “Elli, we’re all friends here. Tell her.” Stammering slightly, and first asking Jess to keep it to herself, Elli told her an edited version of what she had told Tandy. Jess frowned. “Indio? Are you talking about Indio Navaro?” Elli’s eyes opened wide. “Yes …jeez, it is a small world. How do you know Indio?” Jess’s eyes were warm. “He’s good friend. A very, very good friend. He built our house out in the San

Juan’s a couple of years ago. He became a part of our family …oh gosh, I just realized.” “What?” Jess squeezed her hand. “You must be her …he would talk about his great love and how he broke her heart—and his own—when he had to go away. He said it was his only regret.” Elli felt her throat close. “He did?” Jess nodded. “I can always see it in him, Elli. He carries you with him, in his heart and soul.” Elli could feel the tears threatening. “He doesn’t want me now, Jess. He made that very clear.” Jess studied her, then shared a look with Tandy, who nodded. “Elli, I have a confession. You may think that because we invited you and Aldo both to come see us that we’re close friends of his. Elli … we’re not. We only know Aldo very slightly, and mostly from what Indio has told us. It’s you I wanted to see again, so I asked Theo to extend the invitation to both of you. I wanted to talk to you, and I didn’t want Aldo to grow suspicious.” Elli stared at her. “Jess, you’re scaring me.” Jess took her hand. “Sweetheart, listen. I know something or two about dangerous men.” She

pulled up her t-shirt and, with horror, Elli saw a mass of silvery, jagged scars on Jess’s belly. “Courtesy of my now-deceased step-brother.” Jess dropped her shirt. “I never underestimate a man’s propensity for violence. I know that might sound melodramatic, but I had to put a bullet in Jules’ head, or he would have killed me and Theo and Lily, while she was still inside me. Indio told me about Yvetta.” Elli closed her eyes. “He told me he killed her.” Jess sighed. “He thinks he did. He thinks it’s his fault she was murdered. But, no, Elli, Indio Navaro did not stab Yvetta to death. Who does Aldo say Yvetta was to him?” “His fiancée. The love of his life.” Jess shook her head. “Yvetta was Indio’s fiancée. Indio’s lover.” Ellie was shocked to her core. “Did you meet her?” Jess shook her head. “Yvetta died three years ago. Almost immediately after, Indio came to Seattle and we met him. He was …hollowed out. He eventually opened up about Yvetta, his devastation at her death, and his guilt over not protecting her.” “Jess and Theo were the people I saw Indio talking to, the time I mentioned to you before, but I hadn’t

met them at that time.” Tandy said. Ellie chewed her lip. “Did he mention Aldo?” “No. Not once. Indio alluded to something else. He said the man responsible for Yvetta’s murder had something on Indio that meant Indio had to leave Italy. He wouldn’t say exactly what, but now, Elli, I’m positive it had something to do with you.” Why are you so sure?” “Because all Indio would say is that he failed to protect Yvetta, and he would not risk that happening to ‘her.' I think he meant you.” There was a strange mix of emotions inside Elli, both an icy fear and a little relief. “Then he couldn’t have been talking about Aldo. Aldo loves me, he …” She broke off, seeing the look on Tandy’s face and knowing she was skeptical. “I won’t believe that he was the one who killed Yvetta and, for chrissakes, he hadn’t even met me then. How the hell would he know about me?” Something jogged in the back of her mind— something from the day she had met Aldo. Your articles are the reason I subscribe to the magazine. But how would he have known about her and Indio? No. But hadn’t, just an hour or two ago, she been

planning to investigate Aldo? What Jess had told her merely fanned that flame. Jess sighed. “Look, this is all conjecture, really. What does your gut tell you?” Elli rubbed her hand over her forehead. “God, Jess, I’m so conflicted right now.” “I told her to get some space from both of them.” Tandy was picking off the label of her beer, looking annoyed. “I concur,” Jess said. “But you’re a big girl, Elli. Just know …you have allies.” Elli smiled at her. “That means the world.”

THE ONE DRAWBACK to the afternoon with her friends, Elli thought, as she walked back to the Four Seasons, was that it had to end and now she had to go back and see Aldo and pretend as if nothing had happened. He greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. “Hello, darling. I missed you.” Elli gave him a half-smile. “You were busy, honey. I didn’t want to interrupt your work.” He pulled her into his arms. “You can interrupt me

anytime.” He kissed her, and she tried to respond, but after a moment, Aldo drew back and studied her. “What’s wrong?” She shook her head. “Nothing.” His eyes narrowed. “You know I don’t like it when you lie to me.” Oh god. Her heart began to thump. “You got me. I have a splitting headache,” she said smoothly. “But I don’t want to ruin our dinner plans.” “Nonsense. We’re not meeting Theo and Jess Storm until tomorrow. Tonight, we can have room service and an early night.” Elli smiled gratefully at him. “That sounds perfect.” “You liked Jess, didn’t you? Are you looking forward to seeing her again?” Was she paranoid to hear accusation in his words? She brushed past it, not wanting to give anything away. “Of course.” And Aldo said nothing else, not through the room service dinner or when Elli faked being asleep to avoid sex. He seemed perfectly happy just to lie next to her. In the middle of the night, she awoke to find the bed empty. A thin sliver of light underneath the bathroom door led her to open it a crack. Aldo was

masturbating furiously, his face red from concentration. She was about to close the door and give him some privacy when she heard the frenzied whisper coming from him. As she focused on the words, her stomach clenched with horror as her lover whispered another woman’s name over and over. Yvetta. Yvetta. Yvetta.

THEY ARRIVED BACK IN I TALY, and Elli intended to break things off with Aldo immediately. There were any number of reasons, starting with what Jess had whispered in her ear after the dinner that Elli and Aldo had shared with her and Theo. “Always here. Just say the word and we can come get you.” Elli hated the concern in the other woman’s eyes—was she really in as much danger as everyone seemed to think? She couldn’t be with a man who frightened her. That was one thing. Then, on the flight back to Italy, a different kind of fear struck Elli—one involving biology. The thought that she could possibly be pregnant with Aldo’s child had left her cold. And then, thinking that it might actually be Indio’s child … Elli had closed her eyes and allowed herself the fantasy that it was and that Indio would welcome her and the

child and they would live in his farmhouse, running around, having fun, and making furniture in his workshop. She didn’t even want Aldo’s child. That was another thing. And then there was the fact that, even if he was as clean as his public persona would suggest, she now knew she didn’t love Aldo and could never love anyone but Indio. She’d rather be alone forever than stay with a man out of convenience. It wouldn’t be fair to Aldo. For all those reasons, Elli tried to finish things, but he deflected her trying to talk to him with a mention of another party. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy this one, too, my love,” he had said. “Some of our friends will be there.” Elli bit her tongue and went along with it, distracting herself with work. She also wanted to get a look at Aldo’s study, see if she could find anything in his files about his business concerns in Uganda. So she went along with the plans, keeping out of his way during the day. She would return to work on Monday, which would give her some breathing space. She asked Umberto to take her to the small town near Aldo’s mansion, and she ducked into a drugstore and bought a few pregnancy tests, not trusting the results of just one test.

It was with great relief, after seven tests, that she found she wasn’t pregnant after all. She sat in the bathroom of the small coffee house and sighed. So why was she so irritable and exhausted? I need to get away. But, as she laid her head back against cool tile of the bathroom, she knew she had to take her chance to find out more about Aldo. He would not take it well when she broke things off with him, and she had no doubt that he could ruin her career with one phone call. So she needed a backup plan. If Aldo was corrupt, she needed to find out before she left him. But there was pull in her—a growing need. She wanted to see Indio again. Of course, she did. She didn’t care if he yelled at her, but she needed to see his face, his beautiful face, again. Oh, how I love you. Elli sighed. She knew what she wanted now, and no one was going to stop her fighting for him. She and Indio were meant to be together. She knew that with every cell in her body. She was still thinking about Indio when she returned to Aldo’s villa that night to find him excited and almost manic. “Did you forget, darling? The party?” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, god, I did, I’m sorry. I’ll go get changed.”

Aldo smiled and kissed her mouth. “Good girl. We have about a half hour.” Elli quickly showered, shoving her already-clean hair under a shower cap to save time. She wore the lilac dress she had worn a few months ago. It weirdly made her feel close to Indio—a small victory, perhaps, but it made her feel better. Aldo smiled at her. “You look beautiful, darling. Shall we?” They left the apartment and were driven by Aldo’s car service to the party. It was only when they entered the main ballroom that Elli’s heart began to beat faster and her stomach clenched in dismay. This wasn’t a party of their actual friends …it was the masked people from the orgy. Elli looked at Aldo, her distress evident. “I thought you said you only met once a year.” Aldo’s smile was triumphant. “Usually, we do. This year, we thought we’d have a reunion party, as it’s five years since we began the club.” Oh god, no …Elli turned to go, but Aldo grabbed her wrist. “Come on, Elli, you had a great time before. Let’s just enjoy this.” He cupped her cheek in his hands. “Lately, I feel you drifting away from me and I thought this could bring us together again.”

“By having other men fuck me?” she said incredulously, and his face changed and grew angry. “Perhaps if one of these men were Indio Navaro, you wouldn’t object?” Something made her snap back, “Perhaps not,” but she instantly regretted it, as Aldo grabbed her wrist and hauled her into a private room. This was getting out of hand. “Please don’t make me angry,” Aldo said. “You’re behaving like a child.” “Because I don’t want to get fucked by strangers? Take me home, Aldo. Now.” His smile was humorless. “No.” Elli stared at him, her anger not dissipating one iota. “Fine. Then you can watch me fuck every man in that room, but you don’t get to touch me. At all. How’s that?” She stalked out of the room, but Aldo stopped her. “Wait, Elli …” For a second, she thought he was going to apologize, but instead, he smiled coldly. “You forgot your mask.” He handed her the same dark red mask she’d worn

before. Elli put it on and didn’t look at him again as she went out into the hallway, slamming the door behind her. She ran quickly down the hallway, away from the party, wanting to cry, but not being able to get tears out. She hunkered down in a dark alcove and breathed deep lungfuls of air into her. Then she felt a hand on her hair, stroking it, and flinched away. Please go away. But the person didn’t leave, but merely removed their hand and stood quietly in the darkness, waiting. Finally, she looked up at the man in shadow who was comforting her and her heart raced. He was wearing a lilac mask and his dark curls were wild about his head. He put his finger to his lips and pulled her to her feet and into his arms. His lips were soft against hers, tender and loving, and then he swept her up into his arms and carried her to a bedroom upstairs. He locked the door behind them and laid her on the bed. Elli’s body was on fire as he covered her body with his, pressing his lips to hers, and she pushed the mask from his face, wanting to see his beautiful eyes. Indio smiled down at her. “Hello, my Elli Bella.” She did cry then, out of sheer happiness. Indio kissed each one of her tears away. “Don’t cry, my love.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered, touching his face as if she couldn’t believe he was real. “I’m here, il amore mia. I’m sorry about what happened the last time I saw you. I didn’t want to hurt you.” She half laughed, half sobbed. “I don’t care as long as you’re here now. Indio …I love you so very much.” “I love you, Elli. I have always, always loved you …” and he kissed her again, this time with such passion her head whirled. Elli clung to him. “Indio …I know you didn’t kill Yvetta. I know you just feel guilty about her.” Indio, his eyes sad, nodded. “I’m sorry I told you I did, but I am responsible for her death.” She stroked his curl away from his face. God, he was so handsome, it almost hurt to look at him. It was like staring at the sun. “Indio, was it Aldo? Did he kill her?” Indio looked at her with unhappy eyes, but nodded. “And, Elli, what scares me most is that ever since her death …he has focused his malevolence on someone else. The love of my life.”

Elli knew he was talking about her, but she needed to hear him say it. “You mean …?” Indio smiled little and kissed her gently. “You, you damn frustrating, beautiful wonderful girl …woman, sorry. You are the love of my life. You always have been. Every cliché in the book, that’s what I feel for you, Elliana Moretti.” But his smile faded. “Aldo Constanza targeted you, Elli, and I don’t mean that to sound insulting. Any man would want you, but Aldo sought you out. He knew any new relationship would make the papers, and that I would see you together wherever I was in the world.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers. “He killed Yvetta, and now he’s going to try to kill you, Elli. If you break it off with him, he will kill you. I hate, hate, the thought of you being with him, but can I ask something repulsive? I need you to stay with him while I gather more evidence against him.” Elli opened her eyes. “You’re behind those reports in the paper.” He nodded, and then looked a little shame-faced. “I also wrote the article about you.” That stung her hard. “Why?”

“I’m sorry, Elli. It was all bullshit. None of it was true, but I wanted to get a reaction from you. I hoped being labeled a gold-digger would make you think twice about dating him. I should have known you wouldn’t back down, you crazy woman. I’m sorry if it hurt you.” She gave a hollow laugh. “What does it matter now? Look, Indio, I can help. If you want me to stay with him longer, I will. He works from home. There are files in his study we may find useful, but I need to get to them. It’ll be easier if I’m already in the house and …trusted. Although I’m not sure Aldo trusts me much anymore. We’ve been having problems.” “You have?” Her mouth hitched up in a lop-sided smile. “Something about me being desperately in love with this gorgeous guy I once knew.” Indio laughed softly and looked at the door. “Will he miss you?” “Well, he told me to go fuck some strangers, so I don’t give a crap. I’ll just tell him I got upset and went to the bathroom.” She wound her arms around his neck. “Indio, we can make this work, can’t we?”

“I’m going to do everything to make sure you’re safe and that we’re together. We just have to bring Aldo down first—or you’ll never be safe. I hate, hate, hate that I’ll be sending you home with him tonight.” The very thought made her cringe in disgust and fear, even though she knew that until she had a plan, it would never be safe to try and just walk away from Aldo’s insane obsession. “Indio, were you watching me?” He nodded. “Only for protection.” He chuckled softly. “You might want to get rid of the little bug in the plant on your desk.” Elli burst out laughing. “I should be mad, but I don’t care. I love that you’ve been close all this time.” His eyes were soft with love. “It killed me to send you away, but Constanza told me after he killed Yvetta that, and I quote, ‘next time, my knife will be gutting the girl you’ve really been in love with all this time’ if I didn’t leave Italy and stay away from you. He knew about you years ago. I think he’s been manipulating your career too. I think Yvetta must have told him about you—I was not the lover she deserved because I was already in love. There were times when it got too much for

her. Aldo wore her down.” “What was she like?” “Lovely. You would have liked her. But I was wrong to be with her when I loved you. She deserved so much better. When Aldo started to harass her, I didn’t take it seriously. Thinking back now, if it had been you, I would have gone ballistic. Instead, I treated it as a joke until Aldo got way too physical with her and she came to me. She told me she had tried to make friends and let him down gently, but he had assaulted her, tying her up, blindfolding her, and threatening her with a knife.” Elli swallowed hard, remembering the times Aldo had blindfolded her. Indio brushed his lips on hers before continuing. “I reacted badly. I beat him, and he fired me, only to hire me back the next day with an apology and a huge hike in pay. He also apologized to Yvetta, and afterward, he did leave her alone. I felt badly that I hadn’t taken her seriously, and I knew I could never come back to you, so I proposed.” Elli’s eyes filled with tears again. “You could have come to me. I waited and waited. Enzo died. Whatever happened between you two was over and you knew that. I thought you didn’t want me anymore. I carried you in my heart. Every day I missed you and it felt like I was dying. And you

were going to marry a woman you didn’t love.” “I was going to marry her out of a false sense of responsibility, Elli. It was my fault she died. Because of my own damn stupid pride …I forced his hand, and he killed her. He stabbed her to death on our wedding day. A day that should never have been because I knew—and she knew—that my heart belonged, and will always belong, to you.” Elli was crying now—sobbing—the tears just never ending, and Indio took her in his arms. “I’m sorry, Elli Bella, scuzi, scuzi ...ti amo.” She pressed her lips to his and pulled his jacket from his shoulders. Indio shrugged out of it and his hands were at the straps of her dress, pulling them down her shoulders. “I always love this color on you,” he murmured, and Elli smiled. “I know. I’ve been wearing a lot of lilac lately …it makes me feel close to you.” Indio kissed her as his hands slid under her skirt and pulled her panties gently down her legs. “I am always with you, my beautiful girl. Always.” In a flash, they were both naked, and this time, they took their time, exploring the other’s body, kissing and sucking, before Indio hitched her legs gently around his waist and slid his huge, engorged cock

into her ready cunt. Elli gave a long, shivery sigh as they began to move together, Indio’s eyes on hers, his mouth tasting her lips as he kissed her. It was slow, soft, and languid, and when Elli came, she gasped, her back arching as Indio shuddered through his own orgasm. She felt his seed shooting deep into her belly and smiled at him. “I love you, Indio Navaro. So, so much …” “My Elli, my Elli,” he said again and again, kissing her tenderly and drinking her in with his eyes. “This was the reunion I dreamed of for eight years,” he whispered. “With you, I know I can handle anything,” she said, stroking his face before her face fell. “God, Indio, I cannot bear to let him touch me again.” “I know. I know. I hate the thought of it. But, listen, you have to do what you have to do to stay safe. Nothing is more important than that. Nothing.” Their gazes locked and she nodded, knowing what he was saying. “When this is all over, I’m marrying you, Elliana Moretti, and we’re going to be the happiest people in the world.” There were fresh tears then, but she smiled through them. “For a proposal, that was pretty damn good, Mr. Navaro.”

He chuckled, then looked regretful. “God, it kills me to say this, but you had better get back to the party.” He grimaced. “I hate that you’ve been involved in this sort of thing.” “Don’t be. The first time, it was my choice. Adventure.” She grinned at him. It was the word they always used when they were younger when they set off to get into trouble. “Adventure,” he said and kissed her again. They dressed slowly, and then Indio pushed up the window of the room. Elli giggled. “Seriously …you’re going out of the window?” Indio grinned and kissed her. “Adventure. I love you, Elli. I promise we’ll be together soon.” He hooked a leg over the window sill, but Elli suddenly grabbed him. “Wait. Just know, Indio, that when he touches me, I’ll be wishing it was you. That you are the reason I breathe in and out every moment. I’ve always loved you, Indio. I always will.” Indio kissed her again, holding her tightly. “Il amore mia, go now before I take you away from here and blow any chance we have of taking Aldo down. I love you. Never forget.” And he was gone.

Elli lay quietly for as long as she dared, reveling in the sudden peace and joy she felt after being with Indio. It was only when fear crept back in again that she forced herself up and out of bed, into her now wrinkled dress, and back downstairs. Almost immediately, Aldo appeared, gripping the top of her arm hard. “Where the fuck have you been?” Elli wrenched her arm away from him and gave him a supercilious smile. “Fucking another man of course. Isn’t that what you wanted?” His eyes glittered with anger. “Why are you behaving this way?” Suddenly, Elli wanted to goad him, such was her anger. This man was a psychopath. She knew that now. “Because, Aldo, you treat me like a whore. You should have warned me this was another orgy. You should have given me the right to decide whether I wanted to take part. Once again, you treated me like just another hole.” Aldo’s shoulders slumped and he passed a hand over his face. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right, I’m so sorry, Elli.” Elli was taken off guard by this sudden change. “Aldo …shall we go home? I’m tired.” They didn’t speak on the drive home, but Aldo took

her hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb. Elli fought the urge to pull it away. To her great relief, Aldo went to sleep almost immediately, his arm locked around her waist, and Elli lay on her back staring up at the ceiling. All she could think of was Indio, making love with him, and the relief of knowing that underneath everything, he was still hers. He loved her. She fell asleep still smelling his scent on her skin and reveling at the thought of his cum deep in her belly. But in the middle of the night, she woke to find Aldo on top of her, his cock inside her. Elli fought the urge to scream and kick him away, going along with the sex …even though every cell in her body was crying out that this was wrong. He’d never done this before—started to fuck her without her consent—and looking at him now, Elli wasn’t even sure he was awake. Aldo came hard, and to her horror, his hands slipped around her throat and began to squeeze. Elli began to panic as her air was cut off. “Aldo, Aldo, wake up! You’re hurting me! Aldo …” Her voice was croaking as the oxygen began to run out. To her great relief, the hands released her throat and she sucked in great gasps of air, sobs tearing out of her sore throat. Aldo, still delirious from

orgasm, collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her neck and groaning, “Don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me. If you do, I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you …god …Yvetta …please ….” Elli’s body went cold.

VIVIENNE SQUINTED at Elli as she came into work on Monday morning. “It’s summer. Why are you wearing a scarf?” Elli gave her a too-sunny smile, knowing that alone would tip her friend off to there being a problem. “Fashion, of course. Hey, listen, I’ve got an idea for a new series. Can I take you to lunch to talk about it?” “We can talk right now, if you want.” Elli shifted uncomfortably. “I’d rather do it out of the office if you don’t mind.” Vivienne’s smile faded and she nodded. “Gotcha. One o’clock okay for you?” Elli gave her a grateful smile. “Perfect.” In her office, she hung up her coat, then sat down. She grinned at the small potted plant and pulled it towards her. It didn’t take long to find the little bug

that Indio had planted on the bottom of the pot. She lifted it to her lips. “I love you,” she said in a low, amused voice, “I hope you’re listening because otherwise I just told an African violet that I loved it. Which is true, but I meant you, Indio. I love you so much.” She had spoken in a low whisper, sure that if Aldo had bugged her office too, he would not have heard it. She had come to the conclusion that Aldo was watching her and that he was behind the stalking and the threats. He wanted to keep her scared and act the protector. It was just another way of controlling her. God, how had this all happened in the last few weeks? But, somehow, Elli thought, now looking back, it had been inevitable. There had always been something about Aldo that had been undefinable. Now she knew what it was—he was insane. Somehow, she managed to focus her mind on work until one o’clock rolled around and she met with Vivienne outside, at an out-of-the-way café. Vivienne listened to what Elli told her with mounting horror. Elli looked at her after she’d finished. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

Vivienne shook her head, still trying to process what Elli had told her. “Elli, playing Devil’s advocate here …do you think you should immediately trust what Indio is telling you?” Elli flushed. “I can understand why you asked me that …but yes. Finding proof will confirm it, but yes, I believe Indio.” “Jesus, Elli, then why are you still living with Aldo?” “Because if I leave him, he will kill me.” Vivienne blanched. “Isn’t he planning that already? Just leave and we’ll arrange protection.” “There’s also Aldo’s investment in the magazine. He could pull the rug from underneath us and bring the magazine to its knees, and he knows it.” “Screw the magazine! Your life is worth more. God, when I think I encouraged you to …” Vivienne suddenly reached up and plucked the scarf from Elli’s neck. The dark bruises on her throat were stark again her skin. “Oh my god, Elli …” Elli put the scarf back on. “It was unintentional …. this time, he was asleep. He was appalled when I told him what happened.” “This time …Jesus.” Vivienne dropped her head in

her hands for a moment, then looked at her friend, her expression fierce. “Okay. Look, we get proactive. I’ll start the process of looking for another investor, quietly, and I think you could use some space to go do some snooping. We’ll set up a trip somewhere neutral—Paris, I think—and you fly there, then on to Uganda to investigate Aldo’s business interest over there. I’ll pay for that ticket out of my own pocket, so it doesn’t have to go through the magazine's accounts. I don’t want you there more than a couple of days, though. He’s obviously got spies everywhere.” The waiter interrupted them then. “Excuse me, ladies, can I refill your drinks?” They both nodded, and the waiter took their glasses. In a second he was back, but on the tray he left, there was a napkin covered something bulky. Elli and Vivienne looked at each other before Elli picked up the napkin. On the tray sat a burner phone covered with lilac-colored rhinestones. It looked so tacky that they both laughed and Elli grinned as it began to ring. Vivienne looked confused. “Hey, baby,” Elli said as she answered the call. She mouthed an apology to Vivienne, who waved in assent Indio chuckled. “Hello, gorgeous. I thought you

would appreciate the bling.” “You lunatic. I love you.” “Love you too, cara mia. You look beautiful right now. Don’t turn around. I’m sitting behind you, two tables away.” Elli felt warmth rush through her knowing he was so close. “Did you hear what we were saying?” “Some. And I think I can help on two of those issues. One—your magazine will be fine. I’ll make sure of that. You have me as an investor for as long as you want me.” “Oh, god, Indio, that’s wonderful. Thank you.” “Don’t say my name, just in case, baby. The other thing …I’ll meet you in Paris and go with you to Uganda. There’s no way I’m letting you go there on your own. It’s too dangerous.” Elli was silent for a moment. “Then I guess we take our first trip together.” Indio chuckled. “In between all the snooping, I think we can find something to do. A little advice …wear a disguise. That sound corny, but Constanza will have people out looking for you. Book yourself into a hotel in Paris—not a suspicious and one— and I’ll hire someone to pose as you at the hotel, so

if Constanza checks, he’ll think you’re there. Really, you’ll be staying at my apartment with me.” “You have an apartment in Paris?” “I do now. I have to go, baby, so that if any of Aldo’s men are watching, they won’t get suspicious. Paris, baby. Keep this phone at your office.” “I will. I love you.” “I love you, Elli Bella. Always.” Elli ended the call, desperate to look around to see him. In a moment, a man passed behind her, and she felt warm fingertips brush the back of her neck and shivered with pleasure. She risked a look when he was almost at the corner and saw him turn and flash a smile at her before he disappeared. She looked back at Vivienne, who smiled at her, her eyes soft. “That’s more like it. That man makes you glow, Elli. I haven’t seen you like that for years.” And Elli felt the joy radiate from inside her. She was loved by the man she had always adored. Nothing could get in the way of that …could it?

THE IDEA CAME to her when she was eating dinner with Aldo that night. The tiredness and exhaustion

that had dogged her was back, and for the first time, she wondered if Aldo was drugging her. Yes, it could be paranoia, but now that she thought about it, he always insisted on preparing their food himself—claiming he was a foodie and an amateur chef—and whenever they shared a drink in the evening, he would mix them for them both. The worst of her exhaustion always began soon after. So, tonight, she picked at her food and managed to ‘accidentally’ knock over her wine. Aldo leaped up, but she waved him down. “Don’t worry about it, honey. I’ll get it. I just want some water.” She darted to the kitchen before he could argue. She grabbed a glass and downed some water straight from the faucet. She felt his arms slide around her waist. Automatically, her mind went to Indio and her promise that she would always think of him when she was with Aldo. And how could she not? The difference was night and day. To Aldo, she was a possession. To Indio, she was love. “Are you okay, baby? You didn’t eat much.” “I’m good, just not hungry. I had a big lunch with Viv.” She turned in his arms and forced herself to kiss him. “Why don’t you go mix us some drinks while I clear away?”

Aldo frowned. “Elli, we have staff for that.” She laughed softly. “Aldo, sometimes I like to feel we’re at least a little normal. I love cleaning up. It relaxes me. And you’ve never objected to me being …relaxed before.” She looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes and smiled. For a second, Aldo stared at her as if trying to work out if she was playing him. Elli stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, lingering over the kiss. Aldo smiled and touched the worst of the bruises on her neck, his expression contrite. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Elli chuckled softly. “Oh, you’re forgiven.” She pressed her breasts against his chest and cupped his cock through his pants, shoving down her revulsion. “And, later, I’ll show you just how much.” He tipped her chin up for another kiss. “Then you have a deal, little one. Scotch or vodka?” Either, asshole, I’m not drinking it. “You choose. I won’t be long.” Elli gave him a minute before silently following him to the drawing room. She heard the clink of the crystal decanter against the glass, and edging the door open a crack, looked in. Sure enough, Aldo was pulling something from his pocket, a vial of

white powder, and adding it to one of the glasses. Elli gritted her teeth. Motherfucker. She slipped back down to the kitchen, tidying up the dinner things, and then went up, forcing a smile on her face. She pushed open the door to see he had lit candles. Good. Dim light was what she needed now. Occam’s Razor, Elli thought to herself as she went to him and curled up on his lap. Or a version of it. The simplest way is the best way. She kissed Aldo, pretending for a moment that it was Indio, and, seemingly delighted, he kissed her back, his hands running over her body. “Fuck me in front of the fire,” Elli said, and tumbling them to the floor, Aldo proceeded to strip her. The side table was just to the side of them, and as Aldo worked his way down her body, Elli reached up and switched the glasses. She took what she hoped was the non-drugged one and downed it, making a big deal of smacking her lips after. She gave Aldo a smile as he looked up. “Just getting relaxed, baby.” Aldo laughed, and Elli held her breath to see if he would notice the switch in glasses. From the way he drained the other glass, she guessed not, and a surge of victory swept through her. She played her part like an Oscar winner as they had sex, then led him back to bed. She had to put up with him

fucking her again before he fell into a deep sleep. She waited a half hour, then shook him. “Aldo?” Nothing. She shook him harder. “Aldo?” Louder. “Aldo?” She leaned in and screamed in his ear. “ALDO! You absolute fucking monster, can you hear me?” Nothing. Her heart thumping and adrenaline rushing through her system, Elli sprang out of bed and pulled her robe over her shoulder before padded silently to Aldo’s office. She went to his filing cabinets first—locked, of course, but Elli hadn’t had Enzo and Indio as partners-in-crime for nothing. She grabbed a paperclip and picked the locks. She flicked through every file quickly—most of it she didn’t understand—but there was nothing incriminating that she could see. Frustrated, she managed to lock the cabinet, then scooted to his desk, opening his laptop. It was password protected, but Elli, grinding her teeth, typed both her and Yvetta’s names and she was in. Stupid, stupid Aldo. Your arrogance and complacency will be your undoing. She had to search, but eventually she found a folder marked simply ‘girls’ and clicked on it. There were sub folders, two of which were marked ‘Elli’ and ‘Yvetta,’ and needing some courage, she clicked on

Yvetta’s first. There were perhaps thousands of photographs of the woman, although in most of them she either looked unaware that she was being watched or looked uncomfortable. There was a haunted look in her eyes. Another sub folder was labeled videos, but when she clicked on it, there was only one. Elli checked the sound was turned down and listened for any noise in the house. Silence. She clicked on the video and had to stifle a scream. Yvetta, beautiful in her wedding dress, was backing away from the cameraman, terror in her eyes. Elli turned the sound up a little, trying not to be sick. “No, please, don’t …please, please don’t.” Then a sickening sound as the killer stabbed Yvetta, driving the knife into her, and Yvetta’s agonized gasp of pain. Elli watched in horror as the killer eviscerated the young woman, her cries dying down as she lost consciousness, until all Elli could hear was the attacker’s pants for air. The video ended with a close up of the knife embedded in Yvetta’s stomach, blood everywhere. Had Aldo kept it as ‘evidence’ or had he kept it as a memento …did he masturbate to it? Elli knew the answer. “Oh god …” Elli was shaking uncontrollably, but she had to know. She clicked on her own folder. Again, photographs, this time of her. Some she had seen already, sent to her by her ‘stalker.'

“Cocksucking, motherfucking asshole,” she whispered. There was a video folder, but in this one, there were multiple videos, and as she looked through them, she realized that most of them were taken in her bedroom. Not the room she slept in here, in Aldo’s house, but the one in her tiny apartment in Venice. Others were taken in her bathroom, her living room, and even her office. “Fuck,” Elli growled and clicked on one that read, “Almost …but not yet.” She gasped when she realized it had been the night they had played the kinky game of ‘guess what?’ She was lying naked, bound, blindfolded, and Aldo was running various objects down her bare abdomen. Elli smiled grimly when she saw the knife in his hand. I fucking knew it, she thought. The sick, sick fuck. Aldo ran the tip down until it dipped into her navel, then she watched him turn to grin at the camera, raising the knife and making a stabbing motion repeatedly, only just stopping above her skin. She heard herself say, ‘A knife?’ and Aldo raised his finger to his lips to the camera, then made a shocked face. “Of course not, Elli. Who do you think I am? It was my watch.” So, he was planning to kill her to get back at Indio? Tough luck, you sick motherfucker, she thought as she dug around in his drawer and found a flash

drive. She copied everything she could to it, then shut the computer down. She scrubbed her fingerprints from everything in the room and went back to the bedroom. Aldo was snoring loudly, and she stood over him for a moment, wondering if she had the courage to kill him. Because right now, she wanted to more than anything in the world. You. You are the reason Indio and I were apart. Your sick fantasies cost Yvetta her life—you won’t take mine. She tucked the flash drive into the lining of her jacket, then lay down, keeping as far away from Aldo as she could. Soon, she would be in Paris with Indio and away from this man. She fell into an uneasy sleep as dawn approached and woke a couple of hours later, feeling scratchy and queasy. Aldo was still asleep, and she had to smile—karma, bitch. She left him a note saying she had gone to work and, grabbing her jacket, she went to find Umberto to ask him to drive her to work. After he dropped her off, Elli walked around to the back of the office and called Indio, telling him everything. “You did what?” Indio was chuckling helplessly on the other end of the phone. “You drugged him? Elli … it’s funny, but if he’d figured it out …”

“He didn’t. He’s too arrogant to believe anyone would ever see through his sick plans. And it worked effectively, too. Motherfucker had been doing it to me for months—I’m assuming to keep me pliable—so it was time he got a taste of his own medicine.” Indio wasn’t laughing five minutes later when Elli told him what he had found. “That does it,” he said. “You need to get out of that house now.” “I’m at work, silly.” Indio drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t care what you do, just …don’t got back there.” Elli sighed. “Okay. Oh, fuck …” “What?” “My passport is there. Look, one more night and I’m gone, I promise. I’ll get Viv to say I have to be in Paris tomorrow night for an interview.” “Good. I have an idea. A friend of mine, Benoit Vaux …I can arrange for him to be your ‘interviewee.’ You’ll interview him at his home, and I can come get you from there.” A thrill ran through her. “I can’t wait.” The day raced by and before long she was back at Aldo’s place, the place she’d never been able to

call home—and now she knew why. Besides the obvious fact that Aldo was a sick freak, Indio was home to Elli. No one and no other place could ever be. She got through dinner, giving a performance worthy of an Oscar, even as her nerves jittered. After dessert, Elli wrapped her arms around Aldo’s neck as he checked some emails and peeked over his shoulder. “Hey, baby.” Aldo turned his head to smile at her. “You’re in a good mood.” “I have good news …well, for me, anyway.” He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. Elli went along with it, smiling at him and not even giving a hint at the fierce hatred inside her. She nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth playfully, and Aldo grinned. “Tell me.” “I am interviewing Benoit Vaux tomorrow.” His eyebrows shot up. “Vaux? Wow, that’s a coup. He doesn’t like publicity normally.” “Well, I’m a serious journalist, and he’s a serious man. So I’m flying to Paris for a few days to see how he works. He’s very kindly offered me one of his guest rooms to stay with him.”

“Really?” Aldo sounded skeptical. “So he goes from uber-privacy to having a journalist live with him?” Elli thought quickly. “Okay, I admit, he’s a friend of Vivienne’s, and she’s calling in a favor. I have to pack …do you know where I left my passport?” “In the nightstand, next to mine. I put them in there when we came back from Seattle.” She kissed him and hopped off his lap. “Cool, thanks.” She was almost at the door of the study when he called her back. “I might come with you,” he said thoughtfully. “I have a few contacts I wouldn’t mind catching up with.” Fuck. Elli kept the dismay off her face and smiled. “Well, that would be lovely …except you should know, I’m grumpy when I’m trying to get a story down.” Aldo laughed. “So stay out of your way. I got it. You weren’t grumpy when you interviewed me.” She gave him a cheesy grin—god, they were almost like a loving couple in these moments. “You distracted me with sex.” “Which is what I’ll do in Paris.” He grinned

wickedly. God, she could almost believe he wasn’t a psychopath when he was like this. Elli smiled. “Then it’s settled. I’ll go find our passports.” She went into the bedroom and pulled open the nightstand. A thought came to her and she very carefully pulled out both passports, making sure one covered the other, then made a big deal of trying to find something else in the drawer and those below it. She made her expression one of confusion and looked around the room, making her movements very deliberately. If he had put cameras in her apartment, he might have put them in here. He could be watching her right now. Shit, if he had put them in his study ... No. She would be dead right now if he knew she’d snooped in his study. She had to trust that only the bedroom—the bedroom where he had fucked her and where he had murdered Yvetta—was the only room he would feel he needed to watch her—and them. She hoped that was true. She carried the passports out and only when she was sure no one would see her, did she slip Aldo’s down her underwear, wincing at the cold, leather cover. “Honey? I found mine, but yours isn’t with it. I had a quick look around, but it’s not there. Did you put

it somewhere else?” For the next hour, she helped Aldo search the bedroom for his passport. Eventually, Aldo stood, frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, damn.” “It’s weird.” Elli was enjoying herself now. “I’m trying to retrace what we did when we got home.” Aldo sighed. “Look, let’s leave it. You’re only going to be gone for a few days, right?” She kissed him. “Right.” He put his arms around her and suddenly she was scared he would feel his passport hidden in her underwear. “I like your thinking, cowboy, but rather unromantically, I really have to pee.” Aldo laughed and released her, and she went to the bathroom and locked the door. Searching, her eye alighted on the back of one of the cabinets. She slipped Aldo’s passport into it, hoping he would never need to look there—at least until she could get it out of the house or, even better, lose it—he’d never be able to replace it by tomorrow, no matter how much money he had. Happy in that knowledge, she went back to the bedroom and didn’t even feel too badly when Aldo insisted on them making love before and after she

packed, knowing that this time tomorrow night, it would be Indio’s arms she was in.

E LLI BREATHED in a lungful of Parisian air and smiled at the man opening the limousine door for her. In a few minutes, she would be whisked to Benoit Vaux’s left-bank apartment, where Indio would be waiting for her. As she traveled through the city, she was staggered at the beauty of the place, the manic traffic, and the speed of life there. Elli gazed out at the Eiffel Tower, lit now in the early evening twilight. In the world’s most romantic city, she would finally be able to love Indio freely and openly. He was waiting as she stepped out of the car and he whisked her inside and kissed her passionately, leaving her laughing and gasping for air. His arms were tight around her. They gazed at each other for a long moment, no need for words. There was a discreet cough behind them, and Indio turned and laughed. A tall, dark, handsome man gave them an amused smile. Indio chuckled. “Sorry, Ben.” Benoit Vaux, grinning, kissed her cheek. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Elli. Please come

upstairs and meet my family. I warn you, our daughter is still awake and causing trouble.” He led them upstairs, where he introduced Elli to Shiloh, a tall, willowy blonde with a friendly smile, and their daughter, Lily. “Hi, Lily,” Elli said. “That’s a beautiful name. My friend has a daughter called Lily too.” Lily, unlike her namesake, Lily Storm, wasn’t shy at all. She nodded. “It’s a popular name,” she said wisely and her mother laughed. “Precocious nine-year-old,” she said with a smile. “Please, Elli, come on in. Indio’s made himself at home already.” She said this with a fond glance at Indio, and he grinned back. Elli could see the friendship between them all and it made her heart warm all the way through the delicious dinner with Benoit and Shiloh. Then, after midnight, Indio and Elli left by the back entrance and were driven to Indio’s place across town. Elli’s eyes widened at the beauty of the apartment. “Wow. And you just moved in?” Indio grinned. “Yesterday, but I’ve had my eye on this place for a long time.” The walls of the high-ceilinged rooms were painted a delicate lilac, and Elli grinned. “God, it’s lovely.”

“Nothing compared to what I’m looking at right now.” He took her in his arms and kissed her. “Hello again, Elli Bella. It’s so good to hold you when we have no fear of discovery or any anger between us.” Elli relaxed into his arms. “God, Indio, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He smiled, and taking her hand, they walked to his bedroom. Elli leaned against him. “You know, I could do with a bath. To get the journey off me.” “Your wish is my command.” In the bathroom, he ran hot water into a vast tub. Elli eyed it with a grin. “Big enough for two. You know, I’ve never had sex in a bathtub.” Indio pretended to be serious, stroking his beard. “Really? Well, scientific studies show that sex in a tub in Paris, specifically with a man whose name begins with an ‘I,' means beautiful woman called Elli are guaranteed an orgasm.” Elli giggled. “Oh, is that what they say?” “They do.” He grinned, looking ever more like the boyish hero of her youth. Elli kissed him. “Silly man. I love you so much.” “As I love you, Elli Bella. God, when this is all

over, we’re going to be as silly as we like. More fun and more jokes. I’ve laughed more in the time we’ve been reunited than in the eight years we’ve been apart. I’m looking forward to getting back there.” “Adventures.” “Hell, yes.” They lay in the warm water, Elli leaning back against his chest. Indio’s fingers trailed bubbles up and down her belly. Elli felt more relaxed and content than she had in years, turning so she could look at him. He cupped her breasts in his hands, stroking a rhythm over her nipples with his thumbs. She swept his damp curls away from his face and studied his swarthy, tanned skin and his bright green eyes gazing at hers, soft with love. “Have you any idea how beautiful you are, Indio Navaro?” Her voice was awestruck. “Inside and out. There could never be any other man for me. Not ever. I was dumb to think there could be.” Indio smiled at her. “Then I’m just as dumb, Elli. I spent eight years trying to fight what I felt and what I knew in my bones was our destiny.” Elli’s eyes were sad. “Why? Why fight so hard? Enzo …he would have come around. He wasn’t my

keeper.” Indio shook his head. “Right now, I don’t know why. When his girlfriend accused me of assaulting her, it was such a visceral shock. In a way, I don’t blame Enzo for banishing me. I didn’t feel good enough for you …in my mind, no one was good enough for you, Elli.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. “You were and you still are my hero in every way. I love you so much, Indio. So, so much.” Indio slid his hands into her hair and gazed at her. “Marry me.” “Yes,” she said simply, but he shook his head, smiling. “No, I mean, while we’re in Paris. Marry me. Don’t go back to him. Stay with me. I’ll keep you safe, I promise. I can’t bear that he touches you.” Elli smiled through her tears. “Yes, yes, god, yes, Indio …” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. Indio reached between her legs and spread her labia, and she guided his cock inside her. They made love slowly and intensely until they were both gasping for air and laughing, telling each other how much they loved each other.

*** In the morning, Elli woke up with Indio’s arms around her and felt happier than she ever had. She turned in his arms and watched him sleep for a few minutes before he opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Good morning, beautiful.” “Good morning, my love.” Indio kissed her, and they made love before showering together. Indio went out to buy some breakfast rolls, returning just as Elli finished dressing. She was waving two passports at him. Indio was confused. She grinned and handed him one of them. “It’s Aldo’s. I took it so he couldn’t follow me here.” Indio laughed, flicking through it. “Clever girl, although, knowing how corrupt he is, he probably has several under assumed names.” Elli’s face fell. “Damn, I never thought of that.” Indio mussed her hair. “It was still a good idea. We can see where he’s been.” Something snagged in Elli’s memory then. “Hey, let me see that for a second.” She flicked through to where there was a customs

stamp and held it up. “This is from when we went to Seattle. US Customs stamp, right? They always, always stamp it?” “Yep.” “Well,” she said, flicking through the passport, “This passport is about halfway through its life, so any trips that Aldo took—as Aldo— within the last year should be in here. Indio, about a month into mine and Aldo’s relationship, he said he was going to New York for a meeting for a few days. I didn’t think anything of it, but during that time, I was attacked and threatened by a stalker.” Indio sat up, alarmed, but she waved him down. “I wasn’t seriously hurt, don’t worry. But I spoke to Aldo via Skype one night, and my friend Tandy— I’ve told you about her, right?—she was staying with me and made a comment about where Aldo was speaking from.” Elli recalled the confusion on Tandy’s pretty face … “Something struck billionaire, right?”

me.

He’s

a

solid-gold

Elli half smiled, half frowned at her friend. “So?” “Well, it’s just, if I had his money, I would be staying in the penthouse suite. From what I saw,

that wasn’t the penthouse of The Four Seasons.” Elli told Indio exactly what Tandy had said and waved Aldo’s passport. “There’s no customs stamp for the time he said he was in New York. I don’t think he left the country. I think he was watching me and that he attacked me to make me feel vulnerable.” Indio nodded slowly. “You’re probably right … what with the cameras in your home and his sick games …Jesus, Elli, there’s no way I’m letting you go back to that man.” She took a deep breath in and nodded. “Yes, there’s no way. But we still don’t want him to flip out, so when I go back to Italy, I’ll say I need some space and that I think we need to be apart for a while. Rather than pull off the band-aid, I’ll ease him into it, so he doesn’t get suspicious. I don’t underestimate his capacity to hurt the people I love if I upset his equilibrium.” “I don’t want you to be at risk,” Indio said with real emotion. “If anything happened to you.” Elli went to him and perched on his knees. “Indio, your proposal last night …I got on the internet this morning. We can get married here, but we need to be resident for thirty days for it to be legal.”

His arms tightened around her. “Damn. I wanted to be your husband right now.” She chuckled. “And I wanted to be your wife. We should go somewhere, in Paris, that’s totally cliché and have our own little ceremony. Then, as soon as we get back to Italy, I’m yours, baby.” Indio kissed her. “That sounds like a plan. In the meantime, let’s go find what we can on Constanza.” *** They flew into Uganda the next day and, much to Indio’s amusement, Elli wore a short blonde wig. She posed in it, and Indio shook his head. “You’re not a blonde, baby.” She stuck out her tongue at him. “But you like my disguise, right?” The fun was soon over when they began to see the conditions that the local people had to live in and Elli was moved to tears. Decades of civil war had torn the country apart. She visited some of the aid camps set up by Aldo’s organization, and on the surface, they seemed to be places of hope. It was Indio who found someone willing to talk to them. They met late at night at the rundown hotel where Indio and Elli were staying.

The man, David, was a Ugandan-born medic who had resigned from Aldo’s organization the previous year. “I was fooled for a few years. I didn’t think to look below the surface and took everything Constanza said at face value. He comes here often, and it took a while to realize that after his visits—every time— there would be a child or two or three who went missing. All girls.” Elli felt sick at the implication. “So, he’s not selling guns?” David shook his head. “Eventually, it got back to me. The kids that went missing were being sold to the sex trade.” Elli gave a sob, and Indio rubbed her back, his own face drawn. “How the fuck is he getting away with this?” “Russian contacts and unlimited money to hush things up. People have died here …I’m sure my life too is now forfeit, which is why I have nothing left to lose by talking to you.” Elli grabbed his hand. “We will protect you, David.” He smiled sadly. “Do not promise that, lovely lady. This world is rough and corrupt. Even the people

hired to protect a person can turn at the promise of money.” “Why don’t you leave?” “Because this is my country and they are my people. I may not be able to stop Constanza, but I can do something about the flow of children into his grip. My colleagues and I, we offer free medical treatment with the little money we have to buy supplies.” Elli looked at Indio, who nodded. “David, I can help …we can help. We can open clinics and get you supplies.” David smiled. “That sounds easy, Mr. Navaro, and I thank you, but we have to deal with so much more here. Any supplies are usually stolen by insurgents and our people killed.” “There must be something I can do?” “Any help is, of course, welcomed, but the best thing you could do for us is to bring Constanza down.” Elli drew in a breath. “David …I would ask you to go on record, but I fear for your well-being if you do. So we’ll bring him down some other way. We know he’s a murderer. We have video of the last murder he committed—that we think he

committed.” “We know,” Indio said shortly, and Elli nodded. She sighed and patted David’s hand. “You are a hero, David. A hero. We will bring Constanza to justice and then we’ll come back to do what we can to help.” *** Back in Paris the next day, they spent the next few days strategizing. “We have to take that video to the police.” Elli shook her head. “We cannot prove it was him in the video, nor that he wasn’t sent the video as some kind of blackmail. He’s already told everyone who will listen that you killed Yvetta. We don’t have enough, Indio—not without putting lives at risk.” “We could do an anonymous expose?” “Been there, done that, and it still didn’t work. He deflected that article easily. And he’ll know it’s us.” Elli sighed and sat back. Her back ached from being hunched over the table. Indio massaged her shoulders, and she smiled gratefully at him. “I hate to say this, Indio, but I think I’m going to have to play nice with him a little while longer.” Indio’s fingers tightened on her shoulders for a

moment, then relaxed as he nodded. “God, I hate to agree, but …” He looked at her unhappily. “I wish this were over.” “Me too, baby. Look, let’s enjoy these few days together before all hell breaks loose. Let’s make the rest of the world go away.” Indio kissed her passionately. “Good idea.” He drew her to him and began to unbutton her blouse, taking his time to kiss every inch of exposed skin gently. Elli lay back on the couch as he stripped first her and then himself and went into her outstretched arms. Elli hooked her legs around him, drinking him in and gasping as he entered her. “You’re so wet, baby.” “Always with you. God, you’re so big …” Indio grinned, thrusting his huge cock deep inside her. “You make me big, il mia amore …all this is for you …” He thrust harder and she moaned, sinking her fingernails into his buttocks, wanting him to go deeper and deeper, until he was ballsdeep inside her. “Indio …Indio …” He pinned her hands above her and she chuckled as he grinned. “All mine.” He fucked her hard, barely letting her catch her

breath after she came before his mouth found her cunt, his tongue delving deep inside her and lashing around her clit. “You taste like honey.” Elli was almost delirious with pleasure as she came again and again, his mouth and his cock reaming into her, on the couch, the floor, and in their bed. Their bed. Afterward, they lay, gazing at each other. “You know, we could just run away,” Indio said idly, running a fingertip down the valley of her breasts, over her stomach to her belly, circling her navel. Elli kissed his mouth. “That’s not your style—or mine. Anyway, we need to do this …for Yvetta and for our future.” She saw the admiration in his eyes. “You’re amazing.” “Because I’m with you.” “No, you’re just amazing.” Indio covered her body with his again, gently pushing her legs apart and gliding his rock-hard cock into her. Elli sighed happily. “Elli Bella …I already consider you my wife. I think I always have.” She smiled at him, her eyes glistening with tears of

joy. “You are my world, Indio, my love. My husband.” And with those simple words, they bound themselves to each other.

B UBBLES DON ’ T JUST BURST, Elli thought, five days later. They smash, they splinter, and they cause damage. They hurt. She was back in Italy, back within Aldo’s reach—back in his bed. She’d managed to persuade him that she was too jetlagged to make love, and if he was suspicious, he didn’t show it. Vivienne, in Elli’s absence, had the office check for cameras and bugs under the guise of remodeling the space, but to their great relief, the only bug the experts found was Indio’s poorly hidden (but still unnoticed for months) bug on Elli’s desk. It made Elli breathe easier that she and Vivienne could talk about what they found out in Uganda without risk of Aldo finding out. She also showed her friend the horrific videos she’d found on Aldo’s computer. It was in the evenings when she had to return to Aldo’s house that she felt scared …scared and disgusted every time he came near her. They limped on for a couple of months, becoming more

distant from each other, and even when Christmas came and went, they were civil, if not affectionate. Elli and Indio spoke every day, and Indio urged her to break things off with Aldo. “We haven’t found anything we can use,” he said. “And every day I wake up wondering if today is the day when I hear that you’re dead. I hate this, Elli. Please.” It was just after the New Year when Elli asked Aldo if she could talk to him. “Of course.” They were in his study, and Elli’s eyes kept drifting toward the filing cabinet. He was clever, she thought, and didn’t keep a paper trail back to him. She wondered if he got paid in cash to sell those children into the sex trade. She pushed that thought away; if she dwelt on it, she might crack and start to accuse him, and then all would be ruined. Instead, she smiled at him with fake warmth. “Aldo, darling …this isn’t easy to say. But …. I think we need to consider spending some time apart. We haven’t exactly been getting along so well of late. You must agree.” Aldo nodded slowly, his eyes locked on hers. “I cannot deny that, Elli. It had been breaking my heart.”

“And I’m sorry for that. But I do think we have reached the end of our time together. I need to regroup and work out what I want from life.” Aldo gave a soft, sarcastic laugh. “I think you know what you want, Elliana. It just isn’t me.” Elli decided to ignore that. She did not want him to lose his mind. “I need time on my own.” Aldo studied her. “As you wish.” Really? He was taking it this easily? Something didn’t add up here. “So, I’m going to pack my stuff tonight. I’ll ask Umberto to take me back to my apartment.” “Fine. Is that all? I do have to get on.” He turned back to his computer, and Elli flushed. She hated him, but she also felt he was dismissing her. Like a whore. Again. Asshole. She didn’t say another word, and in an hour, she was being driven back to town by Umberto. He looked over at her. “I’m going to miss our talks, Elli.” She smiled at him. “Umberto, can I give you some advice? Between the two of us?” “Of course.”

“Get another job. Work for anyone else but Aldo.” Umberto looked shocked and uncomfortable. “Elli, I …” “It’s okay, Umberto. Forget I said it.” She didn’t want to make his life harder, after all. She hugged him goodbye as he dropped her at her door, then she took her suitcase into the lobby …and waited. In five minutes, Indio was there and she ran into his arms. “It’s over. It’s really over.” But, of course, it wasn’t. Elli could never have guessed how quickly things would unravel.

E LLI STRETCHED her body as she woke in the late February sun. Carnival time again. Here in her new apartment—their new apartment—she rolled onto her side and studied the face of her love, her Indio, and as of five days ago, her husband. She was officially Mrs. Indio Navaro. They had married quietly, with just a few friends, but it had been the best day of Elli’s life. “Today, my life finally begins,” Indio had said in his toast, gazing down at his bride, and Elli had cried at the love in his voice. She had worn a simple, lilac, cotton dress to marry him, matching Indio’s tie, and they both wore lilac flowers pinned to their chests.

They had lived together as if they had always done so, easily, reveling in the time together, fucking each other’s brains out, and having adventures. The only dark cloud was the unresolved issue of Aldo Constanza. “He took it too easily,” Eli said, and Indio agreed. “He’s up to something, for sure.” Elli could tell Indio was terrified that Aldo would get to –her—even on their wedding day when she’d arrived at the city hall, accompanied by Vivienne and Tandy and three hulking bodyguards, she saw the relief as well as the look of love in his eyes. She couldn’t blame him. The night before the wedding, she’d had awful nightmares of Aldo coming for her as she got ready to marry Indio and stabbing her to death as he had done to Yvetta. But nothing went wrong that day. Elli got up now and pulled her robe on, going into the kitchen to make coffee. Indio may have been as rich as Aldo, but he didn’t believe in staff—unless it was security staff for her, of course. So they cooked for each other and cleared up themselves, and Elli liked it that way. They talked about their future, living in the country at his farmhouse. “Or, if you like, we can find something else together. I

can’t look at my workshop without remembering what I did to you there.” Elli swept a hand over his hair. “Our reunion, however brutal, was there. I wanted you to fuck me that day, so badly, and for me, it was heaven. Regardless of what happened afterward, you were just trying to protect me.” He kissed her hand. “Another reason is that Aldo probably knows about it.” Elli’s smile faded. “We’re never going to be able to stop running, are we? Maybe we should end this once and for all.” Indio’s eyebrows shot up. “How?” Elli gazed at him for a long moment before saying it. “Entrapment.” It took Indio a second to realize what she was saying. “Listen to me, Elliana Moretti Navaro. If you ever, ever, ever suggest using yourself as bait again, then I’ll …. god, Elli … He will slaughter you. Do you understand? You saw what he did to Yvetta, and she wasn’t even part of his great revenge plan. She only said no to him. Can you imagine what he’ll do to you now that he probably knows we’re married—that you deceived him and married his enemy? That he had you and you

slipped through his fingers?” “Exactly,” Eli said calmly. “He’ll get riled up, especially if the magazine runs some op-eds about him—imagine it. One year on from his exclusive interview, we do a follow-up and see where he is now.” “It’ll be written off as a bitter woman’s clap back after she’s dumped by him. I’m just saying, that’s the way he’ll spin it.” “Let him. It’ll still get to him, especially if we intimate about his ‘connections’ in Russia. We only have to drop one name—someone already in jail for sex trafficking—and he’ll flip out. I saw him on that plane, Indio, when that stuff about the alleged gun running came out. He was insane with rage and that wasn’t even true.” “Still making yourself bait,” he shook his head, and Elli sighed. “Okay, what if it’s not my magazine that does it? We can send it out to …” Indio’s voice was hard. “No, Elli. Just no. I don’t want to be the control freak here, but no. No risk, no bait.”

I T TURNED out a day later that Aldo had made the first move anyway. Indio called Elli into the kitchen, then handed her his iPad. Elli read through the newspaper article.

C ONSTANZA SELLS UP: ‘It’s Time for A New Life, Somewhere Else,’ Says Heartbroken Billionaire.

E LLI ROLLED her eyes at that, then went back to reading.

ALDO C ONSTANZA, 42, billionaire philanthropist and businessman, is leaving Venice just a year after relocating from Rome. Reports say he has put his seven-million-euro home in Mira up for sale and has emptied his office in the city, laying off a number of staff. Business insiders are somewhat confused, as Constanza had told them only recently that Venice was where his life was now, but perhaps his very recent break-up with journalist Elliana Moretti might have swayed his decision to leave the city. Ms. Moretti, 29, was with the billionaire for just over a year, but in the few weeks since Constanza ended the relationship, has moved on to another billionaire, architect and

property mogul, Indio Navaro, 38. We have confirmation, indeed, that Moretti and Navaro were married only last week in a small, private ceremony. In a strange twist, not only did Navaro design and build Constanza’s Mira home, but was also once briefly a suspect in the murder of Constanza’s fiancée, Yvetta Lima, three years ago. We have reached out to Mr. Constanza, who briefly told us that he ‘wished the couple every happiness’ and that it was time he ‘started a new life somewhere else.’

“W ELL,” Elli said. “Apart from being labelled a gold-digging whore again—don’t worry, I’m getting used to it—that is a bunch of B.S. You and I both know …Aldo won’t just leave us be.” “Agreed.” Indio sighed. “I have an idea.” “What?” Indio smiled a strange smile at her. “I’m going to see him.” Elli gaped at him. “What? Why the hell would you do that?” “To threaten him, of course. To tell him ‘congratulations on the move’ and that if he wants

his life to remain the same, he’ll go and never come back.” “You’re going to call his bluff?” “Yep.” Elli sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know what good it will do.” “It can’t hurt and it’s better than you using yourself for bait.” Elli looked away from his gaze. “You already said no to that.” She sighed and went into Indio’s arms. “Let’s just get tonight out of the way, then we can talk again.” She smiled up at her husband. “Are you looking forward to it?” Indio rolled his eyes, grinning shyly. Venice was bestowing an award on Indio tonight at a gala held in his honor, celebrating his work. It coincided with the Masquerade Ball, but Elli had balked at that. “No more masks,” she said, and Indio agreed. “Actually,” he said now. “I have a surprise for you. After the gala tonight, we’re flying to a private island in the Med.” He laughed as she bugged at him. “You’re kidding?” “Nope.”

“Indio, please tell me you didn’t buy an island?” Indio grinned. “No …just a villa on it. We need a holiday home, right?” Elli started to laugh. “God, our adventures are a lot more expensive than they used to be.” Indio shrugged good-naturedly. “Elli, I worked for the money I earned. I think what drove me to work so hard was the thought of one day being able to provide for you and our family, even when it seemed impossible for us to be together.” Elli stroked his face. “Our family,” she whispered, and he nodded. “So …” “So, I can’t wait. Something about hot weather makes me frisky.” She grinned and kissed him. “Come, husband, let’s go practice before we have to get ready for your coronation tonight.

E LLI WAS TREMBLING as she saw Indio walk on stage and shake hands with the man who was giving him the award. Ori Bartoli, her young infant daughter, Lucy, in her arms, nudged her. “You can cry now, Elli. It’s okay.”

Elli laughed, but her eyes were full of tears and her heart full of love for the man so shyly accepting the congratulations and gratitude of his city. He made a short speech, stumbling over some of the words, but when he looked out into the audience, he gazed at her, his eyes soft with love. “And to my beautiful wife, my best friend, and my reason for being, Elli. I love you. Without you, none of this means anything.” Elli did cry, then, and she saw Ori wiping away a tear too. Ori hugged her. “I’m so happy for both of you.” There was a drinks reception afterward, and Indio and Elli sat, hands clasped, laughing with their friends. Indio kept being borne off to meet new people, but Elli didn’t mind. After so many years working incognito in the wilderness, it was time for Indio to take his spotlight. Ori, wrestling with a wriggling child, stood. “Someone made a stinky,” she said to the amusement of her table. “I’m just going to change her diaper.” “I’ll come help.” Elli stood, signaling to Indio where she was going. He grinned and mouthed, “Ti amo.”

She laughed and blew him a kiss. She went with Ori to the bathroom, followed at a discreet distance by her bodyguard, Mario. Ori grimaced as she dealt with her daughter’s diaper. “Why did I sign up for this again?” Eli chuckled. “You’re a masochist. Haven’t you trained Maceo to do this?” “Ha. I tried, but he immediately sold Dario out by telling him it was his job. Dario, as you can imagine, doesn’t want anything to do with dirty diapers.” Elli chuckled, tickling Lucy’s belly. “She is so beautiful.” Ori smiled. “I know, isn’t she? Your turn soon, maybe?” “Maybe. We haven’t actually discussed children, but I know we’ll have a ton.” Elli blew a raspberry on Lucy’s stomach, making her giggle. Ori washed her hands. “Would you mind just looking after her while I pee? I’m bursting.” Elli immediately handed her a fresh diaper from the bag, and Ori laughed. “Ha ha. Won’t be a second.” Elli picked Lucy up and bounced her. She was such

a happy little baby. The door of the bathroom was pushed open and her bodyguard, Mario, appeared. His gun was drawn, a long silencer screwed to the barrel, and Elli turned in shock as he levelled it at her. “Mario, what the hell are you doing?” Aldo pushed his way past Mario and smiled at her. “Your husband really should vet his employees more carefully. Hello, Elli. What a gorgeous baby.” The toilet flushed, and Ori appeared, at first not seeing the men as she washed her hands, then as she looked up, her face was one of horror. “Hello, Ori, lovely to see you. Your daughter is beautiful. Such a shame.” Elli handed Lucy back to Ori and stepped in front of them. “No. Don’t hurt them, please Aldo …if you want me, I’ll come with you.” “No, Elli,” Ori whispered, her voice breaking and her eyes riveted to the gun pointed at Elli. “Please, no.” “It’s okay, Ori …” Elli was very calm. “I assume you’re here for me …so take me, Aldo. Do what you want with me, but leave them alone.” Aldo put his head to the side as if thinking. “You seem to think you’re in charge here, Elli, but I’ll give you a break. I’ll let the lovely Mrs. Bartoli and

her child live …if you’ll play a little game with me.” “Whatever you want …” Aldo made a face. “Of course, I don’t want my little game to be interrupted by the people Mrs. Bartoli would surely warn.” Oh, god, no. “Please, Aldo …” Aldo looked at Mario. “Wound, but don’t kill Mrs. Bartoli, would you please?” “No!” Elli screamed, but Aldo pulled her out of the way, and Ori, knowing what was going to happen, shoved her daughter into Elli’s arms. Mario shot Ori, the bullet slamming into her shoulder and knocking her back against the cold tile. As she fell, her head cracked against the hard marble of the sink. Ori slumped to the floor, bleeding. Elli whimpered, and Lucy began to cry. Mario checked Ori’s pulse. “Alive.” Aldo nodded. “Good. Take the child, Mario.” The guard stepped forward to take Lucy, but Elli was ready for him. Stamping on Aldo’s instep, she kicked out of his hold and drove her knee into Mario’s groin. The bodyguard buckled, and she

used her knee to smash his forehead. Aldo grabbed her and Elli felt the sting of a hypodermic needle in her neck. No …he was drugging her again. The effects were almost instantaneous. Aldo took Lucy from her arms and placed her next to her unconscious mother. Elli slumped to the ground, and Aldo picked her up just as Mario came around. Aldo bent down again and retrieved the bodyguard’s gun. He shot Mario without hesitation, putting a bullet into the man’s head. “Loose ends.” As she finally gave into the drugs, Aldo smiled at her. “If only your death were going to be that merciful, Elli, my darling.” Not knowing if she would ever wake up again, Elli’s last thought was of Lucy, Ori, and her darling Indio.

I NDIO EXCUSED himself from the host’s wife and went to find Elli. He found their table and saw Maceo talking to another friend. “Hey, where did Elli and Ori go?” Maceo grinned. “Diaper duty.” He glanced at his watch and his smile faded. “Quite a while ago now.” He got up. Indio tamped down the feeling of

panic. Elli’s bodyguard was gone, so he was with them, and they were okay, right? Indio and Maceo walked quickly to the bathroom, and just as they drew close, Maceo heard his daughter screaming. He shared a panicked glance with Indio and both men started to run. They burst into the bathroom as Ori, her head bleeding and her shoulder gushing blood, reached for her daughter with her good arm. “Ori!” Maceo dropped to her side and she leaned into him as he put his arms around her. She looked out of it, but she gazed up at Maceo, then Indio, who was checking Mario’s pulse and trying to quell the scream inside him. Where was Elli? Indio knew even before Ori managed to choke out the words. “He took her, Indio. Aldo Constanza has Elli.”

E LLI CAME AROUND , her mind whirling and her breath shallow, just as Aldo had finished dressing her. They were in the back of a van with darkened windows and outside she could hear the sounds of revelers. The Masquerade Ball had spilled out onto the streets of her city. She looked down at her body —he had dressed her in a wedding dress, and Elli could see now, with a jolt of terror, that it was

identical to the one Yvetta was murdered in. This was it. She was going to die and she’d never see Indio again. Aldo kissed her, and she spat in his face. “True colors,” he laughed. “You always were a little savage.” He hauled her into a sitting position. “Now, Elli, we’re going to play a little game. A game of hunter and hunted. I’ll give you a fair head start, of course, but the moment I catch you, my dearest, sweet Elli, is the moment I will end this and kill you. And I will kill you, Elli. You know that. But I will give you a fair head start. Give you the slightest hope, just so I can snatch it away the second my knife slices into your beautiful body. So, go …” The drugs in Elli’s system were making her senses whirl and she couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. Her vision was doubled. Her chest felt tight with fear and terror …what was he saying? “Go …go now, Elliana …and just remember this … you won’t see me coming.” He pushed her from the back of the van into the crowd of people, who carried her along in their throng. Elli was in the midst of a full-blown panic now, terrified that Aldo would kill her; more

terrified that she wouldn’t find her way back to Indio before he did. She had no way of knowing that at that same moment, Indio was frantically watching the CCTV from the security room of the hotel. “There.” Indio pointed at a blacked-out van, watching in horror as he saw Aldo carrying an unconscious Elli to it and throwing her into the back. He isn’t even trying to hide now, Indio thought. And that’s what makes him lethal. They managed to track the van to the edge of Piazza San Marco and Indio was staggered to watch Elli being released—wearing Yvetta’s wedding dress. In a few moments, he watched Aldo, wearing a grotesque cupid’s mask, get out of the van and follow her. In his hand, a glint of steel. Cursing loudly, Indio and the security team at the hotel set off at a run, the host shouting that he would call the polizia for them. Indio didn’t hear anything but the roaring of blood in his ears. Aldo was going to kill his Elli. He was hunting her down and would butcher her publicly, not caring if he was arrested or killed. All Aldo could see now, Indio knew, was Elli’s blood on his hands. Indio could barely breathe as he raced through the night to save his love.

E LLI GRAZED her arms as she stumbled down another alleyway. Her head was beginning to clear and she knew she would have a better chance of surviving if she hid back amongst the revelers. She staggered down the alleyway, almost sobbing as she saw a crowd at the end of it. But as she reached the end, Aldo stepped into the light. His mask was a grotesque, malevolent cupid’s face and his large body filled the entrance to the alley. Elli ran straight into him, and he grabbed her and pushed her again the wall. Behind him, revelers danced and sang, leaving no one to hear her agonized gasp as Aldo, without hesitation, drove the knife into her belly. All the breath was knocked from her lungs as he ripped the knife from her and stabbed her again. Elli looked down in disbelief to see her blood pooling across her dress, gushing from the vicious wounds. As her killer stabbed her again, she cried out, and he put his free hand over her mouth. “Ssh, ssh, beautiful Elli. It’s all over now.” Weakening, Elli reached up and pulled the mask from his face. Aldo Constanza, his face one of utter cruelty, held her as he plunged the knife into her again and then lowered her to the cold ground.

Elli’s chest felt tight and she could smell the blood. She moaned, and her back arched as he stabbed her again. Aldo laughed, but his face twisted into a snarl. “You shouldn’t have loved him, Elli. You were mine, just as Yvetta was mine. When I found out that his one true love was alive and living in Venice —I had to have you.” He touched her face. “From the first moment, I wanted to feel your blood on my hands, but I had to play the long game, make Navaro feel as if he’d won—that he could love you and be happy. The fool. I intended to kill you from that first moment, Elliana. That first moment when my car drove straight at you and you slipped on the ice. It was so easy. Fucking you was a bonus. But this, my sweet girl, this was always the end game. Goodbye, Elli.” And he raised the knife to finish her.

I NDIO , desperate now, raced through the streets of Venice, frantic to find her. Everything went through his –mind—what if she fell into the Lagoon? What if she slipped and hit her head? What if Constanza found her before he could? God, no. He rammed his way through the crowds,

down dark alleys, and over bridges to find her. When he turned into the final alley before rejoining the throng, his blood froze. Elli was on the ground, and Aldo Constanza, his weapon raised, was about to kill her. Even from this distance, Indio could see her red blood stark against the white dress. Oh, please, no …Indio snatched his pistol from his waistband and, without hesitation, he aimed the gun at Aldo. “Constanza! Drop the knife, now!” Constanza looked up and grinned. He stood, dropping the bloody knife. Keeping his gun trained on him, Indio stalked forward. “She’s already dead, Navaro. I did what I intended. I killed the love of your life. Look at her bleed, Navaro …she died in agony.” Indio knew he was trying to get him to shift focus —but Indio knew if he did, they were both dead. Hold on, my love, please … “It’s too late, Navaro …you’ve lost. She’s losing too much blood. You can’t save her. Admit defeat.” “Shut the fuck up, Constanza.” Aldo Constanza was gleeful now, giggling like a child. “You know I fucked her, right? God how I

fucked her …in every room of the house you built me. She sucked my cock, and I ate her cunt …whore …” Indio shot Aldo between the eyes without warning and Aldo dropped, his big body slumping over Elli, who moaned softly. God, she’s alive. Indio dropped to his knees and pushed the dead man away from his love. He didn’t waste time talking, knowing every moment counted now. He simply scooped her up with the words, “Hold on, my darling love. Hold on for me, please.” Then he was running through the crowds—running to save her life.

E VERY MOMENT he expected the doctor to come and tell him, “We did everything we could, but I’m afraid she didn’t make it.” Every moment he expected to sense the moment that Elli died. Indio closed his eyes, praying, exhausted and desolate. He tried to reason—tried to tell himself it was a longshot and that she was too hurt. To distract himself, he’d called the police and told them everything, and now there was a detective with him, relaying all the information his detectives had found. Aldo Constanza was confirmed dead. His fingerprints all over the knife that had ripped Elli apart. The detective with Indio

now was empathetic and respectful. Indio knew his own face was a mask of pain now. So many masks. So many lies. So much horror. If he’d only gone against what Enzo Moretti had told him all those years ago and made it clear to Enzo that he, Indio, would love and care for Elli better than anyone and that he was in love with her. He should have tried harder. Elli wouldn’t be so hurt now. Yvetta would be alive, married to someone who truly loved her, who didn’t love someone else, and she would have a whole bunch of beautiful kids. He and Elli would be married and he would have given her everything. Their children would be playing in the fields and olive groves around their house in the country. God, Elli …I love you more than life itself …please come back to me.

E LLI DRIFTED BACK INTO CONSCIOUSNESS, then immediately wished she hadn’t. Opening her eyes to bright white light was agony. Her soul felt disconnected from her body. There was pain—not as much as she would have expected from being cut open—but low-level discomfort and stiffness. Her mouth was tinder-dry and sore, and she gave a little moan as she moved. Vivienne came into her

field of vision, then, her elegant features thinner and shadowed with grief. She smiled down at Elli, her cool hand on Elli’s forehead. “Well, hello again, pumpkin. Good to see you.” The tears in her eyes belied the gentle humor. “Thank God you’re okay, sorella.” She used the Italian word for sister. “What happened?” Her voice came out as a croak, and, before answering her, Vivienne held a cup of water to her mouth so she could drink. “You were drugged, then while you were trying to get help, Aldo Constanza stabbed you almost to death. Indio killed Aldo and got you here.” “Indio?” Elli’s head whirled, trying to wrap around the barrage of information. “He’s here?” Vivienne nodded, her face showing signs of tension. “He’s been a mess. He was devastated when he brought you in. The doctors warned us you might not make it …it took me a week to persuade him to change his shirt—it was covered in your blood. He never left the hospital.” “A week? How long have I been out?” Vivienne stroked her hair. “You’ve been in a coma for a month, darling. At first, they gave you a five percent chance of making it and told us to prepare

ourselves. The knife severed your abdominal artery and you lost almost half your blood volume. It’s a miracle you made it, Elli. A miracle. What do you remember?” Elli stared at the ceiling. “Aldo stabbed me. He was so cold. He told me he meant to kill me all along, as revenge on Indio …” She gave a humorless laugh. “Revenge for ‘forcing’ Aldo to kill Yvetta. Aldo’s face when he stuck that knife in my gut …I’ll never forget it. Such hatred.” Vivienne dropped her head into her hands and gave a little sob. “When I think I encouraged you to be with him …I can never say sorry enough, Elli.” Elli reached out and took her hand. “Viv, he fooled us all. He was clever and manipulative. You know that first day, when I almost got hit by a car, slipped, and he helped me? It was his car that nearly hit me. He already knew who I was; he knew Indio and I had history and that we loved each other—love each other …please, Viv, I need to see him now.” Her voice broke and she began to cry silently. Vivienne held her, pushing the call button. When the nurse came in, Vivienne smiled at her. “Would you send someone to get Mr. Navaro, please? He’ll be in the cafeteria—look for the beautiful man who looks like a wreck. Tell him the love of his life

wants to see him.”

T WO

Y EARS LATER

“YOU

…

EVIL LITTLE MONSTER .”

Elli stifled a laugh as Lily Storm launched herself at Dario Bartoli, who had just turned a very cold hosepipe on her. Dario grinned unrepentantly as Lily chased around the garden. Ori poked Elli in the ribs. “Don’t encourage him, Els.” “Nah,” Jess Storm grinned at them both. “He’s fine. Lily could do with a soaking.” Her daughter overheard her. “Mom!” The parents all laughed at the betrayal in her voice. They were sitting at the long wooden table in Elli and Indio’s garden, the men cooking on the outside grill and waving away offers of help from the women, who shrugged and left them to it. Elli looked at her friends and felt lucky. Lucky to be alive, lucky to be with these wonderful people, and lucky to have her love at her side. Indio saw her gazing at him and came over to steal a kiss. “This bikini top is coming off the minute we’re

alone,” he said in a low whisper, but Tandy, sitting next to Elli, rolled her eyes. “Isn’t there some scientific theory that says couples move out of that nauseating loved-up phase after two years?” Elli grinned. “Will never happen,” she said as Indio shook his head. “Nope, not a possibility.” “Same here.” Jess put her hand up and then glared playfully at Theo until he agreed with a grin. “Didn’t happen for us.” Maceo wrapped his arms around his wife’s neck. Ori had only just recovered from being shot, having had extensive physiotherapy, but it hadn’t dampened her joie de vivre. She grinned at Tandy now. “You wait. It’ll be your turn soon.” “Ha, never,” Tandy said and got up to chase the children around the garden. The sun was setting when their friends finally left, driving the two hours back to stay in Venice. Elli and Indio took a stroll down through their olive groves and row and rows of grapes on the vine. Elli leaned against her husband, and he hooked his arm around her neck, crushing her lips under his. “God, I love you, Mrs. Navaro.”

She grinned. “Well, you better …what a fantastic day.” “I know. Days like this …well …” Elli stopped and looked up at him curiously. “What?” Indio sighed, his green eyes bright and hopeful as he looked out over the countryside, then back at his beloved wife. “They make me excited. Excited for us and for what the future might bring.” He looked down and stroked her belly. “One day …” Elli nodded. “We’ll get there, Indio. I want to give you a dozen beautiful kids who look just like you.” “I’d much prefer they look like you, especially the girls,” he laughed. Elli smiled and pulled him down on the ground, kissing him and tangling her fingers in his hair. Indio covered her body with his and pushed her skirt up, pulling her panties down her legs as she giggled at his wicked grin. “Okay, well, seeing as we’re having a dozen …oh, god, Indio,” she gasped as his fingers stroked her clit, then dipped inside her. “Let’s say we’ll settle for six of each and …oh, oh ….” She didn’t finish her sentence as, with one long

stroke, Indio’s cock was inside her and she forgot what they were talking about as they made love in the sultry Italian dusk.

THE E ND

Thank you for reading Dark Masquerade! Click here to leave a review for my romance novel

VENGEFUL SEDUCTION A SUBMISSIVES’ SECRETS NOVEL

A young woman finds herself as the nurse to an old, male billionaire. He leaves everything to her when he dies, infuriating the billionaire’s one grandson, who’s had nothing to do with him for the last twelve years. The grandson decides to seduce the nurse and get her to marry him. He plans to be utterly charming right up until the moment they say ‘I do,’ then be so neglectful of her that she’ll cheat on him. To ensure his plan works, he pays a friend of his to offer her comfort and support, making sure she’s poised to fall straight into his friend’s arms. Then he can divorce her and get most of his grandfather’s money back. Sounds simple, only it isn’t. The nurse is a sexy, saint-like woman who not only gives her heart away, but her virginity too. She won’t cheat, no

matter how hard her vengeful husband and his friend try to make her turn her back on the man she fell in love with and married. Because of her undying devotion to her husband, he falls in love with her and is soon overcome by guilt for all he’s done in his desire for money and revenge. Will what he’s done be too much for her to take, or will the love she has for him be so strong that their marriage will survive?

Part One

Chapter 1 Kaye

MORNING DEW COVERED the rose bushes that grew along the sidewalk. With a skip in my step, I tried my best to break the melancholy mood that struck me most mornings as I went to work. It always made me just a little bit sad to go to work. Not because of the patients. I knew I was one of

the rare people who didn’t mind working with people who needed hospice care. Most of the other nurses did it and did it well because it was their job, but there was always this air of resentment. Hopefully not about the patients, but about each other. It’s never easy to know that every single one of your patients will die under your care. Terminal diseases would take them all, no matter how well you cared for them. It took a particular kind of person to withstand all that comes with facing death head on and helping others accept their fate. For me, though, I found it fascinating to interact with people in their last days. Not only did I get a chance to help them and to ease their pain and suffering, but I got to hear the stories these people had in their heads. The times they’d lived through and all of the things they’d said and done—it was all there. With just a little bit of patience, these human beings had the most interesting things to say and insights to give from another time. Theodore Black, however, had become my favorite patient, by far. It was sort of funny, but I could still remember how terrified I had been to meet him, since he was something of a local legend. He was the epitome of the local boy who had succeeded in spite of everything that was stacked against him.

He’d ended up being nothing but a teddy bear. An old, almost deaf teddy bear, to be sure, but one without a mean bone in his body. A sweet, gruff old man who had won my heart almost immediately. So it wasn’t him. He wasn’t the reason I’d been sad to come to work. Or not the whole reason. I was sad that I was going to lose him, but I knew I’d be richer for having known him. The reason I was sad was that, in all of the time I’d been going to see Theodore—as he had insisted I call him—I had never, not once, seen anyone with him who wasn’t a health care professional. No friends—not even any family. This man was the richest person I knew, but that certainly hadn’t made him happy. And that was what really depressed me. It made me almost sick to my stomach when I thought about it. No one should have to die alone, and if I were the only person who could be with him in the end, then I would be. Months ago, I’d made the request to be transferred full-time to Theodore, and I had never been given cause to regret it. “Kaye?” Theodore had been in a particularly sour mood when I first became his nurse, and it hadn’t taken

me long to figure out he mostly wanted to be left alone. Upon entering his home, I often remained quiet and unobtrusive until he called for me. To find him calling for me as soon as I walked in was a novelty. The cancer inside him was eating him alive, and he had become too weak to do most things for himself. He was once such a strong man, then cancer had turned him into an invalid who had to be diapered, spoon-fed baby food, and bathed by his caretakers. I blinked at the thought, trying to push back my tears. The last thing a nurse should do was cry for their patients. Not in front of them, anyway. Though I knew when the inevitable happened, I would cry plenty. I had been doing this since I was twentytwo. Four years ago I started my career as a nurse for hospice care. During that time, I had seen far too many incredible people die. Theodore was something else, though. I knew his death would be even worse than any of the others I’d nursed until they passed. But I wasn’t going to let that get in the way of giving him the best possible care. So I pasted a smile on my face and bustled into the room. “Hello, Theodore! Are you hungry?” I didn’t really expect the answer to be ‘yes,’ though I was hoping

it would be. In the year I’d been nursing him in his home, he’d never been a huge eater, but it had gotten to the point lately that he was eating almost nothing. He looked at me, his dark eyes seeming to burn as they ran me over from head to toe. He was taking my measure, I knew, and I looked at him right back, wanting to seem like I was the sort of person he could trust. “Kaye,” he repeated my name, and I fought the urge to bite my lip. He clearly wanted to know if he could count on me, and I didn’t want to show any sign of indecision. “I’m here, Theodore,” I murmured, letting my voice become a soothing balm. “What is it? What can I do to help?” For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to do it— that his old habits of secrecy would go with him to the grave. I knew who he was—a big-deal businessman who had made a fortune and who had had two different wives try to take that fortune from him. I knew that only because it was pretty much common knowledge in Portland, though, not because he had ever spoken such things to me himself. He had never spoken much about his past. The

things I did know mostly came second hand. His eyes had once been blue, from the photos I’d seen around his opulent home. They’d turned to such a pale color in his old age. Those pale eyes drooped at the outer edges. His lips quivered with the energy it took just for him to speak. “I need you to do something for me.” I kept my smile firmly in place. I didn’t let it widen, no matter how much I wanted to. He’d finally asked for a favor. Before now, he wouldn’t have let himself be vulnerable like that. “Anything.” I couldn’t think of a single thing he would ask for that I wouldn’t be willing to give him. One hand pulled up from his side. A long, bone-thin finger pointed across the room. I followed the direction and saw he was gesturing to the landline telephone that sat on the dresser. “I need you to dial a number for me.” My eyebrows wanted to rise, but I kept them schooled carefully. This was a big deal. He’d never asked me to make a phone call before, but I couldn’t act like it was strange or it could alienate him. Though a knot had formed in my throat as emotion threatened to take me over, I managed a smooth

tone. “Of course.” Just treat it as routine. When I went to the phone, I found it had a very long cord. I took it over to sit by his bed. It was one of those old models, with the curled cord that always ended up tangled. Picking it up, I half listened to the dial tone. I stayed silent, somehow sensing that, whatever happened, it was going to be a big deal. I was going to find out something about this man’s life and I didn’t want to do anything to derail it. I didn’t want him to change his mind about letting me help him this little bit he was finally allowing. I waited. The silence stretched on, and I turned my gaze toward Theodore. He didn’t look back at me, apparently too fixated on his own wasted hands resting on his comforter, which was far thicker than most people would need with the heat of the summer lingering on into September. He was always cold though. Gently, I dropped the phone back into the cradle, and he turned his eyes on me. “What are you doing? I need you to call someone.” He had always been courteous to me, even when he was in massive pain from the cancer that was eating at him. The fact that he wasn’t now meant this was

even more serious than I’d thought. All in a rush, the digits of the phone number burst out of him. “Five, five, five, six, three, one, twentyfour hundred.” It might actually have been one of the more courageous things I had ever seen, watching this scared, sick old man trust me enough to share his life with me. It wasn’t something he’d done much of in his life. I knew that very well. It was a good thing I had been paying attention. I was able to pick the phone up again and dial the numbers before I forgot them all. Breathless, I handed the phone to him, then tried to give him some space. I tried to act as if I wasn’t eavesdropping, though to be honest, I totally was. Theodore didn’t ask me to leave, though, and that meant a lot to me too. It was all more trust than I thought I deserved, but I couldn’t help but be deeply honored by the whole thing. I could hear the phone as he clasped it in his shaking hand. I heard it ring once, twice, a third time, and then the line abruptly went to voicemail. I heard a strong, confident, deeply masculine voice pick up, but there was a canned quality to it that let me know it was a recording.

I couldn’t hear the exact words, but I could tell from Theodore’s expression—too carefully neutral to be anything but artificial—that he was deeply hurt. His hand shook as he placed the phone back into the cradle. “He never answers.” No one who wasn’t looking right into his eyes would be able to tell how much this had hurt him. “Who?” I dared to ask. It was rude, and I was probably pushing the bonds of our friendship just a little bit too much. But there was no way I could keep that one word to myself. It was more than I had in me. Maybe he’d been waiting for me to ask, though. He certainly showed no signs of hesitation in answering me. “My grandson. My only grandson.” His voice did a strange thing. It didn’t quite break—he was too strong for that—but it dipped down a little lower. Subtle. Not the sort of thing that I would have noticed if I hadn’t been paying strict attention. My heart clenched in my chest and I had this sudden feeling like I’d been drenched with ice water. Not on the outside, though. On the inside, so that it froze me more surely and deeply. My heart broke for this poor, strong man, so alone and still so brave.

I started to dislike this grandson immediately. I didn’t know what had happened between them and I didn’t really care, honestly. Nothing could excuse this man, whoever he was, from ignoring his dying grandfather. I had to do something to curtail the hurt the poor man was enduring. “Maybe he just wasn’t home.” I had to try to cheer the poor guy up, but also wanted to be fair to this grandson. I didn’t know the man, after all. I was tempted to judge him, but what did I know? “That’s his cell phone. He never answers it.” Theodore let out a soft sigh, one I was sure I wasn’t supposed to hear. “Not for me, anyway.” Just like that, the dislike was back. Or something like dislike, anyway. The situation must be pretty grim when a man could ignore his grandfather like this. I couldn’t even imagine doing such a thing. “I’ve tried calling so many times,” he murmured, his voice even smaller than it had been before. There was a brief moment of silence between us, and when he spoke again, his voice was stronger. “I’d like some water, Kaye, if you don’t mind,” he said, and I smiled a little, though my heart was breaking for the man. He was always so polite, even though he didn’t have to be. A bit cold and

remote, but always a gentleman. “Of course.” I kept my voice as cheerful as I could as I went off to get him his water. Damn that grandson of his. The fool better wake up and smell the coffee. He was Theodore’s only heir. Theodore might decide to leave it all to charities or something if his grandson didn’t eventually contact him. Seeing as how the man never saw fit to make a visit to his dying grandfather, maybe the riches should go to charity. At least then the money would be appreciated.

David When the phone rang, I didn’t have any idea who it could be at first. I should have. My grandfather had always been a stubborn man, and it had been him trying to reach me for years—years of him calling at least every month. Over the past year, it had been more like once a week, if not twice. Not once had I answered. It had been twelve years since the last time I’d laid eyes on my grandfather or even heard his voice. Twelve years that I’d been

utterly unable to make myself face the one and only member of my family who was still alive. When my mother had taken off on us when I was only five, life had truly sucked. It had been okay, though, eventually. I’d been able to get through it because I still had my father, and the two of us had gotten through just fine. Maybe my mother leaving hadn’t left me entirely without scars. I didn’t trust women from that day, and though I’d had lovers and even relationships, none of them had lasted. At the age of thirty, I had no desire to marry. Why bother when whoever I married would just leave me anyway? Everyone left me eventually, anyway. I’d been seventeen when my father had been in the car accident that had taken him from me. It was a drunk driver. The guy had plowed into my father going at least forty miles above the speed limit. They said my dad hadn’t suffered at all and that his death would have been instant. Then it was just me and I thought it was probably better that way. My father had started a tech company, and I had taken it over after his death. I couldn’t do much with it at first, but once I’d made it through college, that was a different story.

I didn’t need anyone. Why count on someone and then have them leave you? There was no point. I had friends, of course, but no one who I was super close to, and I liked it that way. I would never give anyone that sort of power over me. Never. So that’s why I let the call from my grandfather go to voicemail each and every single time. The last time that I had seen him was at my father’s funeral, twelve years ago. It had hurt to watch him. He was basically an older version of my dad, right down to the tone of his voice and the subtle hint of humor in his dark blue eyes. After all this time, I had no idea why he would be calling me. I kept expecting him to give up and I thought that might be best for everyone involved. He needed to not expect anything from me. Or, maybe more to the point, I needed to not expect anything more from him. One thing I’d learned about people is that, whether they wanted to or not, they left you. So I watched as his number flashed on my call display screen. ‘Grandpa,’ it said, as though I didn’t already know that. As though I hadn’t memorized

every digit of that phone number. And, like always, it was nothing but a reminder of what I was missing. I’d built a life by myself. Grandpa had made himself rich with lumber, but Dad had never been happy with accepting the family fortune without doing anything to earn it. Neither had I. Black Technology had been our answer to that, and what my dad had started, I had continued on in a way that had honestly surprised even me. The men of my family, it turned out, had a knack for business—for making money. As I watched my phone’s lit screen, my fingers itched. What would happen if I did pick it up? By now, my grandpa must not expect that. Would it shock him to hear my voice? That was almost a good enough reason for me to do it. Almost. There was an impish side of me that would enjoy surprising the man, but at the same time, what would happen if I did? It was too easy to imagine. My grandpa would doubtless be shocked. There could be no way, after twelve years, that he would expect me to do it. I’d get maybe as much as ten seconds of shocked silence.

And then what? Well, then the questions would start. The recriminations. The reminders that the old man was all I had left and that we had to stick together. My grandfather had never been the type of man to hold back when he had something to say. The hell of it was, I would deserve it. I was the one who had cut off contact. My reasons for doing it, I thought, were sound enough. But even I knew that I could have said something—given some sort of explanation to the old man who was my only family. He had kept in contact as much as I had let him. There had always been a card at Christmas and another at my birthday. Every year I expected him to give up, but I guess the Black men had always had a bit of a stubborn streak. It would be nice to hear his voice. My phone stopped buzzing, and I let out a soft sigh —a breath I hadn’t even been aware I was holding. I’d missed the chance. It was too late. Maybe this was even the last time grandpa would try to call. There had to be a last time, right? Sooner or later, he would give up. Or …

No. The old man was immortal, like the mountains themselves. I wouldn’t think about him dying. But surely enough was enough. I’d been pushing him away for so long, and even someone as stubborn as he was had to give up at some point. For just a moment, I had the almost overwhelming urge to call him back. To tell him …what? That I was sorry, maybe. Sorry for protecting myself. Sorry that the months kept on going by, and that each and every time he called I told myself I’d answer the next one. Next time, maybe. If there was a next time. Lately, the urge to take the call had been getting stronger and stronger, and it nagged at me more too. Once, it had been easy for me to glance at my screen and then go right back to work. There had been so much to do, after all. Now, the company almost ran itself, and with my thirtieth birthday coming up in a few days, I was starting to have the sense that I should accept the gestures the man kept extending to me. My birthday. Of course. That was it. On my thirtieth birthday, my grandfather would call again. I knew he would. He always did. On that day, I would take the call, and I would accept anything he wanted to say to me.

That was only three days away, and it would give me some time to prepare myself for whatever happened. Hell, what did I know? There was a decent chance he just wanted to tell me off for ignoring him for so long. So be it. It was sort of ridiculous that I was hiding from him, or that I had done so for so long. Anyway, I’d deserve it. I’d let time get away from me. Even now, I was a little bit anxious about the idea of speaking to him. Okay, in other words, I was downright terrified. It was stupid, though. Stupid to be so scared. Stupid to let the fear keep on paralyzing me. I didn’t have to be close to him or anything. I would talk to him, I promised myself. Somehow, that promise felt good. It felt like the right thing to do. There was even still the urge to call him right then and there, but no. I needed the time to psych myself up for it. Just a few more days and I would hear the voice that was so much like my father’s that I had turned around at my dad’s funeral, sure he was the one who was talking. It had felt, just for a second, like my dad was somehow miraculously not in the ground.

It had felt like a betrayal when I had seen that it wasn’t my father, but my father’s father who had spoken. So, yes, I argued with myself, I did need time to prepare myself. What were a few more days, when measured against the twelve years that had already gone by? Somehow, that decision didn’t feel nearly as good. It sat like a hard lump in the pit of my stomach, telling me maybe there wasn’t time. Which was ridiculous, of course. If my grandfather had truly had something important to say, he could have said it to my answering machine. I had always counted on that. That if there were an emergency, I would know because grandpa wouldn’t just hang up. He would leave a message. Call him. The two words echoed through my head and I frowned. Maybe I should just get it over with. Like ripping a bandage off. Swift and painful as hell, yes, but at least it would be over. I almost jumped out of my chair when the phone started to ring again. If it was him, I would answer. If he called back twice in a row, that would be what did it. That would mean he really, really wanted to talk to me

and maybe I should listen. My whole body tensed up as I slowly, slowly, let my eyes drift down to my screen. Did I hope it was him or not? Even I couldn’t really tell. “Oh my God,” I whispered as my eyes finally rested on the lit-up screen. The number was familiar, but it was Brent, my best friend and partner in crime at Black Tech. All of the air left my lungs, leaving me feeling curiously drained. There was no question about not answering this call, though, and I picked it up without hesitation. Even so, with how long it had taken me to muster up enough courage to look at my phone, I was sure I’d gotten it right before it went to my voicemail. “David, what the hell? Do you not check your work emails anymore?” Brent sounded peeved, and I had to hold back a slight sigh. I was sure I was letting everyone down and it sort of pissed me off. “It’s not work hours,” I snapped back, but Brent didn’t even really seem to be listening to me. He was the numbers guy, the one who made sure our little company kept growing, and he clearly had something to say on the matter. “These Q3 results aren’t looking too good. If we’re

going to close out the year where we need to be, we’re going to need to make some changes.” Sighing, I transferred the phone to my left hand and rubbed at the bridge of my nose with the right. I knew Brent would be able to handle it. He was much better at this sort of thing than I was. Still, it was my job to listen, so I settled down to do what needed to be done. Three days would be soon enough to talk to my grandfather. Wouldn’t it?

Chapter 2 Kaye After the phone call that went unanswered, it was like Theodore gave up. Like he’d been holding on to try to talk to his grandson, and when that didn’t happen, he just stopped wanting to try to live at all. He lasted one more night and one more morning. He’d spent the whole of that morning closeted with his lawyer, which only added to the nagging feeling I had about him not caring anymore. It had all happened too fast for me to believe it was truly a coincidence. The day Theodore had tried to call his grandson, he’d been an old, sick man. The

next day, he’d been dying and putting his affairs in order. The skies were gray when I went to his home that morning. Not a bird chirped, not a butterfly flew, and it had my mind going in a bad direction. I’d been through this same thing too many times. It was as if death lingered in the space, waiting to take the sickly person to the other side. It was both a happy and sad time. Happy because there would be no more suffering—Theodore would finally be at peace—and sad because he would be missed. I already missed him. Fighting back the tears, I knew I had to be strong. No nurse would sit by their patient’s bedside, weeping as they left this world. We were there to be supportive and to give them help in letting it all go and allowing death to come and take them out of that body that gave them so much pain and anguish. The suffering would be no more. There would only be peace where they were going. I believed it too. With all of my heart, I did. I wasn’t a religious person, but I was spiritual. I was a true believer that we all go on. Death isn’t the end of us—only the end of our Earthly body. With all that faith, it still took a piece of me when

my patients left us all behind. Theodore would take more than a piece of me. He’d take a chunk. I was all the man had. No family would be there to say their goodbyes to him. Only I would be there. Bittersweet though it was, I didn’t know if I was truly prepared for that day. The door squeaked as I pulled it open. It had never squeaked once since I’d started working there. The house was aware of what was happening. I’d felt it all too often—how the houses would feel when a person passed within their walls. Like a scar, it would permanently affect the home. I ran my hand over the wall as I walked inside. “You’ll be okay.” Some people thought I was nuts with how I thought. I didn’t care. I felt it right down to my core. A person leaves their mark on a place. And Theodore had built that home, then lived in it for decades. He was a part of that place, and it knew it. Peeking in on him, I saw his withered body barely breathing as he lay in the hospital bed. The head of the bed had been inclined to help him breathe. It wasn’t doing much for him. I went to his side and sat silently in the chair next to the bed. I didn’t want to disturb him at all.

Perhaps he was dreaming of his younger days. I’d hate to interrupt that. For a few hours, I just sat by and listened to his slow breathing and stayed quiet, letting him take all the time he needed in peace. I was there when it happened. He’d called out to me, his voice barely a rasp. “Kaye?” He seemed to have aged ten years and lost twenty pounds overnight and his skin was pale and loose, his eyes finally losing their sparkle. I’d taken his hand. “Theodore, I’m here.” His eyes barely opened as he looked up at me. “Kaye.” For a long time, we stayed like that, him lying in bed and me sitting beside it and holding his hand like I could somehow keep him with me. “It’s all going to be okay, Theodore.” The urge to cry was always right there, but I held those tears back. I had to stay strong for the man. He didn’t ask for anything. He was utterly silent until I felt his fingers gripping mine suddenly— frantically. “Tell him I’m sorry.” Moments later, before I could so much as frame the question to ask whom he wanted me to tell that to, he was gone. I didn’t really need to ask, though.

There was really only one ‘him’ it could be. His grandson. The man who had, less than a day before, rejected the last attempt of a dying old man to reach him. The whole situation was so terribly sad, so tragic, and tears leaked down my cheeks as I did what I needed to do.

THE FUNERAL WAS a few days after, and I’d dried my tears before then. I didn’t always go to the funerals of my clients. Sometimes I got the sense from the family they didn’t think that would be entirely appropriate. Of course I would respect their wishes. In this case, though, the only family was a man I’d never met—a man I wasn’t sure I liked. David Black was not my most favorite person in the world. Though I tried to keep an open mind about most people, in his case, I was willing to make an exception. What possible excuse could there be for ignoring a man and letting him die alone? The sadness had been replaced by a fair bit of anger, and I let that energy carry me through what I

knew would be a terrible day. I wasn’t looking forward to the funeral, but it was, at least, a chance to say goodbye to someone I had cared for a great deal. The day was overcast and showers seemed sure to happen. Most had umbrellas at their side to make sure their black funeral clothes wouldn’t be ruined by the drops that would surely come from the sky at any moment. After parking my car, I went inside. It wasn’t a large crowd—I knew it wouldn’t be. Theodore lay in a casket made out of oak. His body was in the spotlight. The knot in my throat grew and I took a seat, crying openly and knowing it didn’t matter anymore. The people there were mostly old friends of his who didn’t even know who I was. Besides, they were all wrapped up in their own grief. In the back of the funeral home, I sat and listened as the sad music played, drawing the pain out in us all. Pictures of Theodore in his younger days flashed on a white wall. He was such a handsome young man. A man spoke to us about life and death and how we all have to meet our maker some day. Honestly, I tried not to listen to the words he said. They just made it all so much harder to take.

I’d never again get to hear Theodore’s voice. I’d never feel the touch of his paper-thin hand. I’d never get to look into those eyes that held an impish twinkle until his heart had taken all it could take. Flowers and plants littered the floor around his casket. At least the people of Portland knew the value of the man, even if his only relative did not. My heart clenched at that thought. Heartless bastard. After the funeral was over, I felt drained and exhausted—like someone had sucked all the emotion out of me entirely. The last thing I wanted to do was go have food and drinks with all the other funeral guests. But I found myself going with the small crowd over to the reception area across the hallway. A patio off the reception room had been set up with the buffet. The sky had cleared, amazingly. The sun was out and fluffy white clouds moved through the sky. It was warm, but not too warm. It felt very nice for an early autumn day. Maybe I would just leave, I thought as I stood by the buffet table of the catered gathering after the service. I could just leave and no one would be the wiser.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out,” a voice commented. That voice gave me the shivers for just a second. It was so familiar I thought it must be Theodore. But, of course, I knew it wasn’t. Very slowly, I turned around, fighting off the gooseflesh on my arms. Low, deep, dominant, and very masculine. Theodore’s voice had gotten weaker and quieter as he’d declined, but he’d never lost those qualities. This man had the same ones, only he had energy, strength, and youth behind his words too. “David.” There wasn’t a trace of doubt in my voice because I felt none. David Black. It had to be. I could tell by the shape of his eyes, and the slightly sardonic tilt to his full lips. I could tell that my recognition took him aback. He withdrew a little bit from me, and at that moment, I saw some things I hadn’t expected to see. First off, the man was handsome. I’d only known Theodore when he was old. But the pictures I’d seen of him proved he’d been a handsome man. David had those same glistening, dark-blue eyes, with the same subtle sense of humor in them and in his whole expression. He was tall, at least a good half a foot taller than my five feet seven inches, and his shoulders were broad and strong. His hair was dark and careless, though he was otherwise

perfectly put together. “Excuse me, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” He gave me a tight smile, and I felt the urge to take a step or two back. There was something almost feral about the man at that moment, despite how sharply he was dressed. Without words, he asked who I was and what I was doing at his grandfather’s funeral. He must’ve known pretty much everyone else there, since they had been friends of Theodore’s for years and years, from what I’d picked up from the service. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying not to get defensive. After all, I had nothing to be ashamed of. Of the two of us, he was the one who should feel defensive. “Kaye James.” I kept my tone cool and a little bit stern. My ‘nurse voice’ as I liked to call it—the one that every good nurse I’d ever met deliberately cultivated. The one that was meant to let patients know that, yes, we were there to help and it would be best if they went along with what we said. If he was impressed, he didn’t show it. He just arched one of those dark, winged eyebrows of his, a slight smile tugging up the corners of his lips. “Kaye James,” he repeated my name, and for some

reason, that sent the strangest little shivers down my spine. “And how did you know my grandfather?” Ah! I knew it. “I was his nurse.” I refused to be charmed by the way he held his hand out to me, offering it in a handshake. “Well, then. Thank you.” He took my hand in his, and my fingers were dwarfed. He had enormous hands. It was a little intimidating, being around him. He took up a lot of room, and not only physically either. It was impossible to be around him and not have my attention focused on him. When he walked into a room, I would bet that all eyes would be on him. Not only that, but I’d bet he’d expect that attention, too. “David Black.” He finally confirmed what I had already known to be true. Our hands were still linked, and I couldn’t help but feel the handshake had gone on a little bit too long. “Hello, David.” I looked into those dark eyes and once more I could swear I saw a hint of pain in them. “Theodore spoke of you.” He wasn’t expecting that and his gaze sharpened.

He looked at me with much more interest, which confused me. The picture I’d built up of this man was that he was utterly uncaring, but I could already tell that wasn’t the case. How strange. Why had David ignored that phone call? Or all of the ones before—the ones I knew Theodore had made himself before becoming too weak? I could swear he was deeply grieved and I shook my head slightly. None of this made any sense. “Why did you thank me?” I finally broke the silence. It seemed he wasn’t going to be the one to do it. In fact, it seemed he had slipped into a world of his own, barely acknowledging my presence at all. “For taking care of him.” There was a long silence before he spoke, and for a moment, I actually thought he wouldn’t say anything at all. “Excuse me. I see that people are leaving and I should say goodbye.” Before I could say anything, he was gone. What was there to say, anyway? My thoughts were far too confused to come up with anything coherent. It was better to just let him go. I had walked into this room not liking David Black

much at all. In less than five minutes, the man had blown that out of the water, though not enough for me to forget entirely how he had treated his own grandfather. But it was enough to confuse me a little. He was charming, no doubt about it. Oh well. I didn’t have such an inflated sense of my own importance that I thought it would matter much to David what I thought of him. Why should it? I would probably never see the guy again. Remembering his dark, penetrating eyes, his strong body, and his slightly rough, deep voice, I had to think it was probably a good thing, me not ever seeing him again. He put my thoughts into disarray, and that was after only knowing about his existence for a few days. It was sort of ridiculous, and not particularly like me at all to get this worked up over someone. It was just his charisma. But with that being said, I decided to execute the better part of valor and take off, still figuring no one would notice if I left. I was almost right. One person did notice. As I pushed open the door to the funeral home, where the funeral itself and the reception had been held, I looked back just once and noticed a particular pair

of dark, thoughtful eyes following me out. David was frowning as he looked at me, and I told myself quite firmly that it was none of my business —none at all—what the man’s deal was. My involvement with the Black family had ended with Theodore’s death. As the door shut behind me, I really did have the notion I would never see David again. I even thought I might never hear his name again. Why would I? I was hardly involved in the Portland business scene. There was something unresolved between us that day, but I didn’t acknowledge it to myself. Maybe it was because I was too busy grieving for the patient who had become my friend, but as I walked away, I was sure I had closed that particular chapter in my life. Even so, David Black and his piercing eyes, high cheekbones, and slightly mocking smirk haunted me. I tried not to acknowledge it even to myself, but they did.

David The day of the reading of the will dawned clear and bright, a perfect Indian summer day. The sky was a

dark, rich blue, the occasional little cloud puffing through the air, and I knew I was about to become a much wealthier man very soon. The whole money issue hadn’t actually occurred to me until the lawyer had called to ask me to be there for the reading. Of course, I was going to get everything, but in my attempts to distance myself from the whole situation, I had forgotten entirely about his estate. I knew he’d been a very, very wealthy man—far beyond my own not insignificant net worth. He’d had decades to build it all up, and I was really only just starting off. Oh, but the things I was going to be able to do with all he had undoubtedly left me … I had visions in my head as I went into the lawyer’s office. With the money I had been left, I could boost Black Tech and really make it grow. Maybe I could even run with the big boys. With enough money and work, anything was possible. As I walked, I could almost swear the soles of my Fendi shoes barely touched the linoleum floors. At the same time, though, my heart was heavy. I had assumed I had time to make up with my grandfather. I had assumed I would have the three measly days to do that much.

I didn’t deserve this, but I knew what I could do. Grandpa’s mind had been a shrewd one, and I could honor him by building a company for the future—one that would carry not just his name, but also his spirit. In short, the circumstances were terrible, but I would turn this experience into something really great. I had stood over his coffin and promised him I would do it, and I always kept my promises. I stopped dead in my tracks when I pushed open the door to the office. It was a quiet, tasteful place, with generic, classy art on the walls and very few people waiting in the office. Actually, there were only two people there, other than myself. One of them was the receptionist, who glanced up at me and smiled politely, apparently appeased by my expensive clothing. The other one was that little nurse—Kaye something or other. The pretty young lady who had apparently been taking care of my grandfather. The question was, what was she doing at my grandpa’s lawyer’s office? Well, the old man had good taste. Kaye was something close to stunning, with her wide, full, generous mouth and her enormous green eyes. Even in her modest outfit, I could tell that she had

curves for days—rounded hips and breasts and a tiny little waist—and beautiful, long, black hair that I was willing to bet would fall almost to her ass if she let it down from the loose up-do she had it in. It was more than just her physical appearance, though. Kaye had this aura that I couldn’t help but find soothing. She was a nurse, and I would be willing to bet almost anything she was very good at her job. She radiated both competence and gentleness all at the same time. She looked up at me, and I found myself unprepared for the look in her eyes. She was trying to learn about me, wasn’t she? Just by looking at me. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my tone just a little bit more blunt than usual. She’d surprised me by coming to the funeral, and she downright shocked me by being here for the reading of my grandfather’s will. Unless she was here for some other reason? “The same thing as you, I would imagine.” She glanced down, away from my gaze, and I frowned thoughtfully. So she’d been invited to this, too? Had the unpredictable old man actually left something to his nurse? “Mr. Black, Miss James, we’re ready for you now.”

The receptionist won my everlasting affection for breaking the awkward moment. I hadn’t been all that gracious. Actually, I’d sort of been a dick, hadn’t I? I’d just been so dumbfounded by seeing her there at all. “Shall we?” I asked, and I even held the door open for her as we went into the office, which was enormous and had a gorgeous, unhindered view of the Columbia River. This guy was clearly doing all right for himself, which I had pretty much figured. I’d never seen my grandfather—or my father, for that matter—skimp on anything that was really important. A lawyer would definitely fall into that category. “Thank you both for coming,” the lawyer, a distinguished older gentleman with beautiful, white hair and a dark tan that I suspected couldn’t be real, intoned. His name was, if I remembered correctly, John Dixon, or something of the sort. He started to talk, and I didn’t pay a lot of attention. I knew what I was going to hear, after all. The only thing I was curious about was what the lovely Miss Kaye James was going to be granted. How important had she been to him, really? “To my grandson and only living heir, I leave a message. It grieves me greatly that we were not,

during my life, able to mend whatever rift there was between us.” John was reading from a paper on his desk, and I started to pay much more attention. I realized, then, that I didn’t even know how much money was in the estate. I didn’t even know what I was about to inherit. I listened carefully, but the lawyer just turned to the lovely Kaye, and I frowned a little bit. For the first time, I started to think that something was very wrong here. Unless he was going to deal with her very small bequest first? But then why had he mentioned me first? It didn’t make sense. “To my nurse, Kaye James,” the lawyer continued. “You filled my last days with light and happiness. Your smiles meant everything to me. Your gentle spirit brought me peace. To you, I leave it all. Every car, every property, every last cent in every bank account. Thank you, Kaye. I only wish I had more to give you because you certainly deserve it.” For a moment, there was complete silence in the room. During that silence, I felt something inside me—some basic idea the universe was a good and fair place—die. The last little bit of hope—of trust —in my heart withered, and in its place anger blossomed. Sick. Hot. Feverish. “You bitch,” I hissed, turning to face Kaye. All of

my dreams went up in smoke right then and there. I could, and I would, build Black Tech into a leading worldwide brand, but it was going to be a lot harder and I would be very old by the time that happened. “Mr. Black! Please,” the lawyer said, and I noted dimly that he didn’t seem surprised by my outburst. If the man read wills on a regular basis, no doubt he was used to this sort of thing. Kaye didn’t say anything back. She just bowed her head, letting her hair swing forward in a dark, wavy waterfall to obscure her features. In her eyes, just before they were hidden, I could swear I saw the faintest gleam of something. Tears? Surely not. No doubt this woman had plotted with my grandfather. Maybe she’d even put him up to it. “He wasn’t in his right mind when he wrote this will,” I stated. I tried to keep the hint of desperation out of my voice—to sound firm and strong and not like I was grasping at straws. “He never would have done this otherwise.” “Slander,” the lawyer said right back, his tone casual enough, but his eyes burning. “I was there, Mr. Black, and I assure you that he was in complete control of his mental faculties. I don’t appreciate

you insinuating otherwise.” It was a warning, and we both knew it. He was a lawyer and I wasn’t, and if he thought he could make a slander suit stick, he probably could. I needed to be careful, even if I suddenly felt like every inch of my body was packed with coals, smoldering and burning me from the inside out. Even if the last thing I wanted was to be careful. So I did the one and only thing that I could do—the only thing that could save me before I said or did something to get myself into more trouble than I could handle. I wasn’t poor, but getting into a legal pissing contest with a lawyer wasn’t something that I could really afford. I stood up and I stormed out of the room. I even let the door slam behind me and walked past the receptionist without so much as looking at her. She probably was pretty used to people having reactions like that, just as her boss was. I would very much like to claim that I didn’t look back, but it wasn’t true. I did, just once, but just for a split second. Not at the asshole lawyer, but at Kaye, who hadn’t moved from her spot or spoken the entire time she was there. I wasn’t going to just take this lying down. Legally, I knew I couldn’t challenge her for the money. The

will had been incredibly clear. There had to be something I could do—I had never been known for simply accepting situations I didn’t like. There was something about the way Kaye bowed forward with some sadness far more eloquent than words could ever express. Words could lie, but I was absolutely certain she could not have faked that posture. Not unless she was a lot more of a con artist than I already thought. As my anger burned, it changed. It didn’t stay quite as hot, but lingered on and refused to die out. A hotter anger might have burned itself to ashes, but this slow, simmering rage, I knew, could last for years. For as long as it took to get back what was mine. The details, I wasn’t quite sure about yet. I would figure them out when I’d had some time to think about it. One thing I did know, however, was that Kaye James was going to suffer for what my grandfather had done. Even then, I felt a surge of misgiving about that. What had Kaye done wrong? Nothing, really, other than provide exemplary service to a dying old man. Could that have been enough for him to sign away all of his worldly possessions to a relative stranger, though? No, she must have done something to

convince him, I told myself. In business, there was collateral damage. Kaye was a nurse and nurses were tough. So I did my best to put the small twinge of guilt I felt out of the way and focused instead on my dreams—the ones that needed money in order to become a reality. Those dreams had seemed so attainable and hopeful just earlier that day, tinged only with grief over my grandfather’s death. Now they were tinged with bitterness, feeling poisonous as they wound through my head. I was going to get what I wanted, though, no matter the cost. The businessman in me could hardly do anything else. That bitch would get what she deserved. Vengeance would be mine.

Chapter 3 Kaye I’m not sure whether I was entirely aware of what was happening in my life for a couple of days after the meeting. The next day, I went back to work. From the details

I had been given about Theodore’s estate, I knew I would never have to work again. At least, I knew it logically, though I was learning from first-hand experience that you can know something in your head and not in your heart. I’d always had to work, like most people did, just to pay the rent and make sure I could continue to eat. The fact that I could just stop wasn’t something that really resonated with me What would Theodore want? For me to sit around and live idly off of the inheritance? No way. I knew the man well enough to know he would never want something like that for me. Not in a million years. Theodore himself had only ever been idle when extreme illness had enforced it. So I went back to work, and I didn’t tell anyone about all of the money I suddenly had, or was going to have when everything cleared. I took care of people, because that was my job, and more than that, because it was my passion. I was a nurse. No matter what happened to me and no matter where my life took me, I would nurse people. I could have ten dollars to my name, or I could (somehow, in a way that didn’t even really fully make sense to me yet) be worth slightly over 100 billion dollars, but I would always be who I was.

I knew one thing for certain. I didn’t want this money to change me. As I started to come to terms with the money, I poked cautiously around for charities. Keeping that much money for myself wasn’t something that I could even fathom. I couldn’t spend it in my entire lifetime, especially because part of it was in properties. I would never have to worry about having a place to live, and paying rent, as strange as it seemed, was something I didn’t have to do anymore. Yes, definitely charities. The problem I ran into was there just wasn’t enough money to donate a decent amount to all of the worthy ones out there. It was all a little bit overwhelming. Not only that, but there was the strangest feeling of guilt over even having this indecent amount of money. I owned properties I had never seen. The numbers, locations, and place names had started to blur as the lawyer had listed them all. In the end, it had sort of sounded like he was speaking Martian or something. Part of it was the look I’d glimpsed on David Black’s face just before he stormed out. That money was his, wasn’t it? At least, David had clearly assumed so. Did he need it? I really knew very little about the man.

He’d been so angry. Part of me couldn’t blame him. As the only family Theodore had left, surely he had been expecting the lion’s share of the estate, if not all of it. It was hard not to feel a little bit sorry for him. It was made a bit easier when I remembered the bleakness in Theodore’s eyes when David hadn’t picked up the phone. I couldn’t imagine ignoring someone like that, even though I had realized David had no real way of knowing his grandfather was dying. Still, that didn’t do much, if anything, to excuse him. Not to my way of thinking. His grandfather had reached out to him, and I knew the day that I’d dialed the phone for him hadn’t been the first time. How many times had Theodore reached out to David, and how many times had David rejected him without a word? I didn’t know the whole story, but I couldn’t imagine what Theodore could have done to deserve that. Nobody deserved to be left completely alone. Nobody. To say I was conflicted about David Black would be a definite understatement. It was a strange situation—to feel angry at someone for betraying

someone I cared about and at the same time to feel sorry for them too. David was so angry at me, too. The disdain and the fury with which he had looked at me would haunt me if I let it. I barely knew the guy, and normally I would probably be able to brush off his opinion of me with very little difficulty. Somehow, with David, it was more difficult. It seemed easier to just dive into my work. It would take time for everything to clear, and there was no law that said I had to decide what to do right this second. Or even ever. I could take my time. One thing I didn’t do, though, was let them assign me to work one-on-one with another patient. Not full-time. Theodore’s passing had broken my heart, and I wasn’t sure I could take it if something like that happened again. I worked until I couldn’t anymore. Any overtime offered, I took, and when I fell into bed, it was because I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open for even another second. Until one night, about a week after I got the news, I found that I couldn’t sleep, despite having worked my full shift and then some. I lay in bed, too tired to toss and turn, but my eyes simply wouldn’t

remain shut. It wasn’t right. I had all of this money and I hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Why had Theodore left it all to me? The houses, the car, the investments— it was all mine and all I had ever done was my job. Slowly, during that long night, I worked things through in my head a little bit. I had worked hard my whole life and had put myself through nursing school. I didn’t need this money. I had been doing just fine on my own. Still, it would be nice to not have to worry about money. I could comfortably do that on a quarter of what I had been given. My needs were not all that great. It was about two o’clock in the morning, and I was so tired my bones ached. My brain hopped around, barely letting me think coherently about anything at all, or so I would have thought. Suddenly, though, it hit me. I knew what I needed to do. The only thing I could ethically do, if only I could figure out how to make it work. I would split the money with David Black. It felt strange, in a way, to even consider such a thing. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about David, other than deeply conflicted.

Still, something had come between Theodore and David, something they hadn’t managed to fix before Theodore’s death. Maybe I could help bring them together again. It was too late for Theodore, but maybe not for David. It was worth a shot. Then I would take my half of the money, and I would divide it in half again. That would give me a quarter of the original 100 billion to see me through the rest of my life and the same amount to give to charity. The decision felt good and I smiled as I finally let myself drift off to sleep. I was halfway there when something else hit me. I had absolutely no idea how to reach David Black. There was social media, of course, but it wasn’t like David Black was the most uncommon name in the world. I could try, and I would, but I might need something else to reach him too. Then it hit me. I was being an idiot and making this all much harder than it had to be. John Dixon. The lawyer obviously knew how to reach David, since he had done so to get him to that terrible

meeting in the first place. I could reach out to him, ask him to get into contact with David, and tell him what I wanted to do with the money. It would be better if Mr. Dixon did it anyway. For whatever reason, I found it greatly unsettling to be around David. He didn’t seem to be all that fond of me, either, and I suspected that, even if I did find him, he would never accept my call. If by some minor miracle he did, he would likely just hang up the second he realized it was me. This would work, though. Or it could. The whole thing could probably be handled without me even needing to see David again, so I could do the right thing and not have to worry about any sort of awkward fallout from it. Though maybe David would be nicer if he knew he was getting some money after all. It seemed to me he was more likely to be upset that he hadn’t gotten it all, and probably he’d even call me hurtful names again. Contacting John Dixon would work though. I was sure of it. And with all of that decided, I was able to finally close my eyes and actually drift into a deep, restful sleep, something I hadn’t experienced since the night before Theodore Black passed away.

For some reason, though, my sleep was far from dreamless. It was filled with thoughts of David—his smile, as rarely as I’d seen it, the sparkle in his dark eyes, and the humor and warmth I could almost swear was there. In real life, the man unsettled me deeply and made me feel strange in my own skin. But in my dream, he was both incredibly exciting and strangely soothing to me in a way that I wasn’t used to. I slept through the whole night and into the next morning, and by the time I woke up, I could almost swear I smelled the man. It was almost infuriating how he could get to me so easily. During the day, I could keep my guard up and sternly refuse to let any pleasant thoughts of him into my head at all. Night time, though, had been proven to be a different matter entirely. In the night, something was different. Something approaching sensuality took over my body, my mind, and maybe even my heart. I had always been too cautious to let anything like this happen before. I’d guarded my heart well, but here I was, obsessed with a man who had seemed indifferent toward me at best and outright hostile at worst. I had never been such an idiot before and in the cold, bright light of day, I was surer than ever that

any interaction I had with David should take place with a lawyer present. The ideal situation would be for me to never see the obnoxious man ever again, and that was exactly what I intended to make happen. I was still going to do what my conscience told me was right, but I was going to do it while protecting myself too. Something told me seeing David Black again would be pretty much the worst thing I could do. But I had to see him in order to do what I thought was right. Giving him the money would be the right thing to do. That was that. I’d talk to the lawyer ASAP.

David I knew I needed to get my revenge—I had never wavered on that. Not even for a second. What I hadn’t figured out, though, was exactly how I was going to make that happen. I didn’t know just what I could do to get what I wanted. Of course, I knew I could contest the will. I could take it to court. I didn’t know what the chances of me winning were, though, and a court verdict was pretty damn final. If I pursued that option then I’d

be stuck with the choice I made. Something told me there was a better option. If I played my cards right, I could get everything I wanted. So I waited, and I didn’t so much as consult a lawyer. To the world, it would look like I had totally accepted what my loving grandfather had done to me. Inside, though, I was brooding, just biding my time. Soon, enough, the idea would come, and I would be ready for it when it happened. It didn’t really take very long. Only eight days had passed since the funeral, but it might have taken longer if not for Brent. I had been lost in my own world, but Brent had never been the sort of man to let me get away with that. He was my best friend, and really, my only close friend. For so many years my main focus had been keeping my business going and friendship fell to the wayside. He’d sort of adopted me, in a way. So when I got depressed and started rejecting his invitations to go hang out, he had something to say about it. In this case, it was more about doing than saying, since he showed up at my house uninvited with a case of my favorite beer.

At that point, there was nothing to do but bow to the inevitable, and it was while I was quite a few beers into that case that I opened my mouth and started to speak. What can I say in my defense? I wasn’t used to drinking all that much—I liked to be in control most of the time. Brent listened, and it wasn’t until I had the words out that I realized just how much I needed someone who would listen. It got even better, too, since I could quickly see his mind—his keen, deeply intelligent mind—jumping into action. I should have talked to him before and I quickly realized it. “It’s easy.” Brent couldn’t have had a bigger smirk on his face if he’d tried. This was all an intellectual challenge to him, and it was one he didn’t seem to find all that difficult. “You just have to figure out how to make everything that’s hers, yours. I think we both know the easiest, quickest way for you to do that.” I winced, but I wasn’t going to play stupid. I did know. Unfortunately. But there was no way Brent could be serious. “You want me to marry her? That woman? You know what she did to me, Brent. She got everything.” I grabbed another beer and looked at

him. Brent had to be joking. It was the only option. He didn’t seem to be, though. He was smirking, yes, but still in the way where he clearly thought he’d had the best idea of all time. “Yeah, she did. So this is how you take it back,” Brent insisted. “You want revenge. Well, what better revenge would there be than to leave her in even worse shape than she started with? You marry her, get a quickie divorce, and you take it all.” I frowned a little. It seemed Brent was actually somehow serious about this ridiculous plan, but I could also tell he had never been married or even seriously considered it. “That’s not how it works. If we get married, there’s no way she’d just hand everything over to me.” I popped the top of my beer and thoughtfully downed a good portion of it. Brent was an idiot, of course, but I pulled an image of Kaye’s beauty into my head. Married. She would have to give herself to me if we were married. The thought was as sudden as it was unexpected, and I shoved it deliberately away. Sleeping with the woman was not the point of this exercise.

“There are prenups. Just get her to sign one of those. It’s pretty common.” Brent gave me a confident smirk and a wave of his hand as though to say the whole thing was far too easy for him to need to lay it out like he was. Like the little details were beyond him. “A prenup?” My eyes narrowed and I started to toss that around in my head, which was admittedly pretty foggy with the beer at that point. “That could work. The person who ended the marriage could forfeit all of the money …” Then I realized what I was saying and I shook my head—which protested rather strongly. “No, wait. If I put that in, she would never leave. The last thing I want is to be saddled with a wife I can’t get rid of without losing all of my money.” I downed the rest of the beer, welcoming the rush of heat it brought. “No way am I getting into that sort of trap.” I didn’t want to marry anyone. I had decided years ago that I wouldn’t. I’d seen too much in my life for it to seem to be worth it. Even if my brain ever fell out of my ear and I did choose to get married, I would never pick Kaye. Something about her stuck in my head in a way that didn’t seem quite safe.

“Okay, no. You’re right, but I’ve got it,” Brent said, and I could see him getting more and more excited, his blue eyes bright with mischief and his cheeks flushed. “The prenup will say whoever is at fault for the breakup of the marriage will get nothing. The injured party, if any, gets it all.” I shook my head, staring at him. I still wasn’t sure that I got it, and he rolled his eyes at me. Then, thankfully, he continued on. “Including cheating, David. She cheats, you rake in your money, and the marriage is over. You come out on top.” Oh my God. He was right. That would be one situation in which no one could blame me for the marriage breaking down. If she cheated on me, it would all be over and I’d have exactly what I wanted without having to go to court for it, probably. And even if Kaye did hypothetically drag it to court, there would be no chance of her winning. It would be trading a doubtful outcome for an almost certain one. But there was still one problem left, the way I saw it. “What would make her cheat?” I asked, and Brent considered that for a moment before his grin

widened. “I would.” That’s where the plan started, and the pieces fell into place so easily after that. I would marry Kaye, and then I would start to treat her badly right after the wedding. Hurting from my treatment, she would doubtless fall into the arms of anyone who paid her even a hint of attention. In my experience, women weren’t the most faithful of creatures. I’d never let one of them get close to me, but even so, I’d been cheated on. And I knew that my mother had left me and my father for another man. So it didn’t seem strange to me that Brent could seduce my hypothetical wife. Brent was handsome enough, though I was hardly the best judge of that. But I’d seen women throw themselves at him often enough to have some idea. More than that, he was smart, and I could see him having Kaye wrapped around his little finger soon enough. So easy. Almost foolproof. I ‘catch’ them in the act, she cries, I leave, and I get the money. Simple. “What do you get out of it?” I wondered, and he shrugged at me. “What else? A cut of the money that I help you

get.” I struggled against the booze, trying hard to poke at this plan, to see if there were any holes in it. No matter how I looked at it, I didn’t find any. Kaye would give in to human nature, and because of that, she would lose everything. Seemed like fitting revenge to me. “Won’t it look suspicious?” I asked, poking at the only bit of the whole plan that still seemed a little dodgy to me. “If I marry her so quickly? Why would she go for that? She barely knows me.” Brent got this strange little smile on his face and he raised his bottle of beer, using it to gesture to me. “Is that a real question? You have women flinging themselves into bed with you all the damn time, David. I have faith that you will figure out how to seduce one little nurse with no problem at all.” I knew I could be charming. I hadn’t shown a lot of that charm toward Kaye as of yet. But when I wanted to, I could make people like me. Our start had been rocky, but wouldn’t that just make it all that much more of a challenge? And if there was a single thing on this earth that I couldn’t resist, it was a challenge.

“If you’re serious …” I took a deep breath, still struggling to think through the haze of the beers I’d consumed. Surely there had to be some reason this whole thing wouldn’t work, but I would be damned if I could think of one. “I’m in. What do you say about five million? I think that’s a pretty good deal for you for sleeping with my future wife.” Not to mention that Kaye was utterly beautiful, in a quiet, graceful, and kind sort of way. Brent would be lucky to have her. Five million was a pretty decent paycheck for this sort of thing. “But you only get it if she sleeps with you,” I added. I thought it was likely that she would, but I wasn’t going to take any chances and be out five million dollars. I’d been born and raised in a fairly high-income family, but even for me, that was hardly chump change. “Deal,” Brent said, and then grinned. “But you’re going to have to do your part, man, and I expect to be best man at your wedding.” My wedding. Oh my God. It seemed ridiculous that Brent would even be saying those words, much less that we had a whole plan to make that happen. “You got it,” I promised, and that was that. The plan was made.

All I needed to do then was figure out how I was going to change Kaye’s undoubtedly negative opinion of me enough that she’d marry me. I’d have to shape up, stop the moping, and somehow push the hatred I had for her down far enough that it wouldn’t show when I charmed the pants off her then slipped a wedding ring onto her slender finger. Vengeance might be fun. Who knew?

Chapter 4 Kaye I meant to call the lawyer, I really did, but one of the worst things that could happen to a nurse happened to me. I got sick. Not super sick. It was just a cold, but a particularly nasty one. The sort that had me sniffling, blowing my nose, and hanging out in bed with a book, too miserable to do anything else. I certainly couldn’t go to work, not with the job I had. It would be horribly irresponsible to give those

germs to people who were already sick. So, right when I would have liked to be very busy, right when I wanted the distraction of work, I couldn’t have it. After two days of feeling like crap, I finally saw some improvement. I was able to get up, have a shower, and dress myself in clean pajamas. That was about all I had the energy for though. So I collapsed onto my couch to watch some Netflix and begin my recuperation. I never ever got sick. It had to be the stress that was getting to me. I’d only been rich for just over a week and I was already pretty sick of it. Literally. The only sensible thing there was to do was distract myself with television from the 90s. That wasn’t so bad—it was actually kind of awesome. I mean, what choice did I really have? I was thoroughly engrossed in an episode from an early season of Friends when a knock came at my door. That was odd. It wasn’t that I didn’t have friends, because I did. But they were pretty much all friends I’d made through work and this was a normal workday. Plus, none of them were close enough as friends to just randomly drop by, and I hadn’t gotten any texts

about any of them coming over. As I got up, I was still a little bit dizzy. I rubbed my eyes to try to clear them a little bit—to pull myself out of my stuffed head and itchy eyes—and went to answer the door. It was probably the landlord, though that would be weird, since the bills were all up to date and my rent had been paid. I hadn’t forgotten, had I? It had undoubtedly been a strange week for me, but I could swear … I opened the door, and it wasn’t the landlord. If you had asked me the absolute last person I would have expected to knock on my door, it probably wouldn’t have been David Black. But he wouldn’t have been far off. And, yet, he stood there, staring at me with that small little smirk on his lips as he gazed at me. No, I definitely didn’t expect that. Suddenly, I was very aware that I looked like crap. I hadn’t even brushed my hair and my nose had to be red from wiping it so many times. Meanwhile, David stood there like he’d just stepped out of the pages of a men’s fashion magazine, or maybe even right off a runway. Unfair. Bitterly so.

“What are you …” I remembered my manners, even if it was somewhat belated, and tried again. “David. Would you like to come in?” “Thank you, yes,” he agreed, and I winced a little. I usually kept my little apartment spotless, but I’d been so sick that I was sure it was a mess. Desperately, I tried to remember how bad it was. I’d been too caught up in my cold-inspired pity party to keep the house the way I usually did. At least there weren’t dirty clothes or dishes in the living room. That was something, though I was suddenly very aware that my apartment was about the size of a postage stamp. I somehow got the sense he was used to bigger places. The way he moved through the small room was graceful. He exuded class, and I kind of hated him for that. A man who couldn’t, at the very least, take a phone call from his dying grandfather had no class. “I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.” David seated himself on my white leather sofa. He glanced around the room once, but he didn’t seem to be judging, which I was grateful for. I had nice things. I made decent money. I’d never been ashamed of my little apartment. But I knew he lived an upscale lifestyle. It was intimidating to have a man like him sitting in my small space.

I settled down on the chair that matched the couch, as far away from him as the tiny room allowed. If he started to yell again, I didn’t want to be anywhere close to him. “The thought had crossed my mind.” My tone was just the slightest bit wry and I didn’t try to hide it. Leaning forward, I looked at him, trying not to notice how handsome he was. So what? There were a lot of handsome men in the world and this one had shown himself to be somewhat temperamental. “I owe you an apology,” he suddenly stated, dark eyes fixed on me, every appearance of sincerity on his face. I didn’t have any idea what to say. He’d completely shocked me with his admission, and I leaned back, knowing I was staring and unable to do anything about it. The fact was, I thought he was right. He did owe me an apology, but I didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a bit of a jerk myself. So I just waited and hoped he would explain. “I’ve been pretty terrible to you,” he did go on, after a brief, awkward silence. “I just lost it, I guess. It felt like a lot of bad things happening

altogether, but you didn’t deserve anything that I said. So, I’m sorry, Kaye. I mean it, I am. I hope you can forgive me someday.” I frowned, looking at him, scanning him for any hint of insincerity. “The last time I saw you,” I pointed out. “You called me a …well. You know what you called me.” I wasn’t going to dignify the statement by repeating it. I had the satisfaction of at least seeing him wince in response. “I know. Like I said, I’m sorry. I was an asshole. I was just so upset about my grandfather, and … well, like I said, I hope that you can forgive me someday.” How to ask this next question without basically calling him a liar? I shook my head. It was going to come out like that, I thought, no matter how I phrased it. “You hadn’t seen him in years, from what he told me,” I finally spoke, in the least accusatory tone that I could manage. I didn’t want to start something, but his story that he'd been too upset to be polite didn’t quite seem to fit. With a soft sigh, David raised one hand to rub at his eyes. It was a small, forlorn little gesture, and the

truth was that it did a lot to make me believe him. Surely faking his words would be easier than his body language. Besides, what reason did he have to lie to me? It didn’t make any sense. Why should he care what I thought of him? “No, I hadn’t. Because I’m a terrible person.” David sounded defeated, which matched with the subtle movement of rubbing his eyes that I’d seen. I could almost swear he didn’t know he’d done it. “I didn’t get the whole story from Theodore,” I admitted. “He didn’t exactly talk a lot about, well, much of anything. But he tried to call you the night before he died.” “I know,” I could barely hear David speaking and had to lean forward again to pick up his words at all. “I didn’t take the call. I was too scared.” In my experience, that wasn’t the sort of thing men admitted to very often—being scared. Especially not strong, attractive billionaires. It got my attention, to say the least. Then he started speaking, and I felt the same pain —the same pressure building up in my heart as I had when Theodore had spoken to me the night before he’d died.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him too.” Nine words. That was all it took for him to turn my heart inside out, to make me feel like someone had stabbed me right in the stomach. And he didn’t stop there. “I was such a coward,” he confessed, his voice still almost too soft to hear. “When my dad died, everything about my grandpa reminded me of him. My dad, he looked a lot like me, and my grandpa was the spitting image of both of us. I couldn’t even hear him talk without wanting to shut down.” Why was he telling me all of this? I didn’t know, but I couldn’t make myself stop him—not for anything. Maybe he was telling me because he needed to tell someone and it was sort of flattering that he was trusting me with all of this. “I’m sorry,” I broke in gently, when it became clear that he was gathering his thoughts. He shook his head and his eyes were bleak, the shimmer in them almost gone when he spoke again. “You have no reason to be sorry. It was all my choice. It’s on me. I was too scared to be hurt, and because of it, now I really have lost everyone and everything.” I thought of myself as a pretty good judge of

character, and the way he was speaking to me, I found I believed him. Once more, I couldn’t think of a single reason he would bother lying to me. Why would he take the time, when I was sure he was a busy man? “I wish …” His voice broke and he finally looked away from me, seemingly utterly defeated. “I just wish I could build a time machine. I wish I could go back to the past and live it all again.” I had to swallow around a lump in my throat and my eyes threatened to tear up. The story was so tragic and I knew I was only getting the first parts of it. With nothing more than a brief hesitation, I shifted over onto the couch and reached out to touch his hand. It was very forward of me, but I found myself eager to provide some sort of comfort. This man wasn’t one of my patients, but he was obviously suffering, and I couldn’t just sit around and not try to help. “You can tell me if you want to,” I told him, holding his hand firmly in mine. He gripped onto it like I was a lifeline. “You can tell me everything. I’ll listen. I don’t know what else I can do, but I can at least do that.” He shot me a sad little smile that made my heart break for him even more and, still holding my hand,

he started to speak.

David Sitting on her little sofa, I felt odd. I was actually telling her the truth about myself. I had meant to, but it still felt weird as the words flowed out of me with ease. Kaye was remarkably easy to confess things to. It was part of the plan for me to expose my true self, making myself so completely vulnerable. The thing that shocked me the most was how much it hurt to talk about all of it. I’d spent hours trying to figure out what sort of story I was going to give her to get her sympathy. After all, you can’t just call a woman a bitch and then expect her to welcome you back with open arms. So what was I going to say to get her to forgive me for that? I’d settled on the truth. It was easier to remember than a lie, for one thing. I wouldn’t need to keep a fancy lie straight in my head. I hadn’t realized just how much it would hurt to talk about these things with an actual living human being. I’d spent so long—twelve years—trying not to even think about any of them, even to myself. And there she was, with her small hand gently

wrapped around my fingers, telling me that I could tell it all. Which was, of course, just what I’d wanted. I wanted to work on her sympathies and this was the perfect chance to do so. It was also just good to talk—to say these things that I’d kept hidden for so long. Maybe I’d needed to get all of this out of the depths of my own head. It wasn’t why I was doing any of this, of course, but it was still nice. So I did. I talked about things I had never said out loud before. Things I hadn’t so much as thought about before. Kaye hadn’t said much, yet she seemed to be able to pull things out of me no one ever had. Not even any of my friends. “I was seventeen when my dad died, but before that, my mom left. I barely remember her.” I found my hands clenching at each other, the fingers fiddling together with my nerves, and I glanced up at Kaye. “May I have some water or something to drink?” I wasn’t thirsty, but I wanted to get my hands to stop dancing together. “I’m so sorry. I should have offered.” Kaye got up, and I heard the fridge open. Seconds later, she came back with a bottle of water, which I accepted gratefully.

“Do you know why she left?” Kaye prompted, and I realized I’d let myself get lost in my head again. It was a bit of a habit with me. “There was another man.” I opened the bottle of water, drinking a little bit of it down. “She walked out, and I never saw her again. I don’t want to see her again. She destroyed my dad.” She nodded, and I drank more water that I didn’t really want, just to give myself a chance to get myself back together. “So, when my dad died in the car accident, I felt like …it’s stupid.” I looked at her and then glanced down at my hands, which clenched at the water bottle desperately. “Tell me, if you want to,” she invited, and her voice was soothing. I could tell she was a hell of a nurse —she had the caring act down. No one was as sweet as she was pretending to be. I didn’t buy it. She might act like Pollyanna, but I didn’t think—not for a second—it could be genuine. “I felt alone. Like I had to do everything on my own.” I sighed softly. “That’s why I didn’t go see my grandfather. I knew he was going to leave me, too, but now …”

For a second my voice cut out, and I had to wait for a second for it to come back before I could speak again. That was weird. My emotions that I kept in check were coming forward. I wasn’t sure I liked that. She patted my thigh reassuringly. “That’s okay, David. I know it’s hard and it hurts. Please, go on.” She was so fucking sweet and understanding that it made me crazy. “Now it’s true. I have no one, and it’s my fault.” She had let go of my hand when she had reached to get a drink of her own bottle of water, but she took it again now, and I frowned a little bit. What was up with this lady, anyway? It was almost convincing. If I didn’t have a sort of instinctive distrust of women, I might have even believed she was as pure and sweet as she was trying to appear. Those green eyes of hers—a man could drown in them. If he let himself …which I had no intention of doing. Her fingers tightened around mine, and I had to fight to keep myself from showing a reaction. I had

wondered what would happen if she didn’t fall for this act, but I didn’t think that was going to be an issue. Not when I was pretty sure I’d figured out her game. “Anyway,” I said, forcing a brave smile. “That’s all in the past. I’m doing okay now. I got through college and my tech business is doing better every year. I just …I guess I just wanted you to know why I was such a jerk to you.” She gave my fingers one more gentle squeeze, then let go of them. My hand felt empty and odd. “No, I was glad to hear it. I’m glad you told me.” Time to disarm her a little bit more. I looked deliberately around the small apartment and then spoke, as though hesitant. “You don’t need to live here anymore. You could move into grandpa’s house. It’s yours, isn’t it?” I wanted her to think I was fine with her taking what my grandfather had left to her. Why not show that by gently pushing her to do it? If I played my cards right, soon she would not even remember how I’d reacted the day at the reading of the will. Let her think I wasn’t even interested in the money. She would soon think it had just been the stress of

losing someone I cared about that had caused it. It was even partially true. The money I cared about only insofar as it could help me get revenge on her, and, of course, I wanted it to really launch Black Tech into prominence. “I didn’t think about that,” Kaye commented, and I could almost believe it. I thought she was probably just caught up in appearances. She didn’t want people to talk about her and say she was nothing but a femme fatale. The gold digging, money-grubbing whore. “You should move,” I repeated and rose to my feet. I’d done enough for one day, I figured. “And, if you’d like, I’d like to see you again.”

THE MORE I thought about it, the surer I was. It didn’t make any sense at all that my grandfather would leave everything to her. Not unless she was very good at getting people to do what she wanted. “So you think that she actually manipulated your grandfather into it?” Brent asked. I’d gone right to his house after leaving Kaye’s, with both of us promising to stay in touch. I thought she would probably even move like I’d suggested. That would be a good thing because I wasn’t sure I could stay

in that teeny claustrophobic.

apartment

without

getting

I was going to be seeing her quite a lot, after all. “Yeah, I do. But it gets worse,” I said, looking at him gloomily. “I’m pretty damn sure she was setting her sights on my money next.” “Oh my God. Are you serious?” Brent asked, and I thought back to the conversation, nodding my head emphatically. “I’m serious and I’m sure.” I smirked a little. “She kept giving me these little looks, and she held my hand to show me how very sorry she was about my grandfather’s death.” Brent winced sympathetically. “Oh, God. Yeah. That sounds like she’s gold digging.” He shook his head. “There’s a reason I don’t have much to do with women. They’re all like that.” I nodded. That had been my experience too. I’d never met a woman who didn’t try to get something out of me. “Well, that’s good news for you, right?” Brent’s lips tugged up at the corners with his amusement. “I mean, she wants your money and she doesn’t know

that you want hers. You have the upper hand there.” I smirked right back at him and nodded. He was right, after all. “She won’t know what hit her,” I agreed. No, she wouldn’t. She had no doubt gotten my grandfather to fall prey to her charms. Maybe she’d found it so easy that she was going to go after me now. But there was a bit of a difference between a sick old man and someone like me, young and dominant, who was used to having things his way. I had to wonder how many other men had fallen for her charms. My grandfather, definitely, but she was a nurse. She had access to all sorts of rich, old men. But then why was she living in that tiny apartment? Well, either this was the first time she’d tried it, or she was such a spendthrift that she went through money too fast and had to find a new sucker. Whatever the case was, I honestly didn’t really care that much. The important thing was, I was on to her. She could throw her sweet, innocent, naive act around all she wanted. It was never going to fool me. I had never been the kind of man to be taken in by a woman, no matter how gorgeous she was.

She’d fooled my grandfather, but she would never fool me. Never, not in a million years. I promised myself that right then and there. Kaye James might think she had another sucker on her line, but she would find out this wealthy man could fight back. She’d made a pretty critical mistake if she thought she could manipulate me like she had my grandfather and who knew how many other lonely men. She would never have me. I would give her every reason to think she’d convinced me of her sweetness—that I believed her act and had swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. I would keep on guarding my heart, as I had always done, and in the end, she’d end up with nothing. It actually sort of pissed me off, thinking about what she’d done. She’d not only stolen from me, but she’d taken advantage of an old, dying man. This revenge was no longer just about the money. It was personal, and while I had felt a little bit bad for her before, that was all swept away with righteous indignation now. Steal from a Black family member? Lie and misdirect us? No way was I going to let her get away with that. I hoped she would suffer when I took everything

from her. It would be no more than what she deserved. Vengeance would be sweet.

Chapter 5 Kaye The whole story broke my heart. I had known, somehow, that it was bad. I had known it from the moment Theodore had asked me to dial the phone for him. Strange to think it had only been about a week and a half ago. It had actually hurt to listen to. After hearing everything David had been through, it was impossible for me to dislike him anymore. Yes, he’d been scared, but he’d had good reason to be. He’d been so hurt. It all made so much more sense to me now. The only thing I regretted from his visit was that I hadn’t been able to talk with him about whether he’d be interested in taking half of the money. I hadn’t expected him to show up at my house and my cold had kept me from thinking straight about the whole thing.

Maybe I’d see him again, though. He’d asked me to, and I liked the idea. Much more than I expected to. “Earth to Kaye,” the laughing voice of one of my friends from work, a lovely lady with golden skin and laughing black eyes named Joan, called out. She was the one I was closest to at work. There were five of us, including myself and Joan. We were all nurses and all on our lunch break at a local restaurant. This was something we often did, and for me, it was some of the only social time I got. It was hard to be a nurse. The hours were long and it could be hell on relationships. The only person who could really understand a nurse, I firmly believed, was another nurse. “Sorry.” I blushed, sort of hating myself for it. I didn’t usually blush, but I’d gotten caught thinking about David again. David. I had misjudged him so horribly. Luckily, he didn’t seem to hold it against me. “Oh my God,” one of the other nurses, Angela, spoke up next. “You met someone! Finally!” To my embarrassment and their amusement, I colored up even more. I’d been around girl talk

before, of course, but I’d never been the subject of it. More of an outsider, listening in. “No, it’s nothing like that,” I protested, but I could see they weren’t buying it. And it wasn’t the way they were thinking. The situation was far too complex, but knowing they would bother me until I told them, I started to talk. I told them about the money, about how it had all been left to me, and about how I didn’t even know what to do about it. I told them everything, right up until the day David had stormed out of the lawyer’s office. It was good to say it all. Get it all out of my head. I could trust these women, each and every single one of them, and I knew that. As I was slowly processing the whole situation, it definitely felt nice to say the words and to know I had their support. They weren’t as excited as I would have thought, though. Oh, they were happy for me and I could tell it was genuine, but honestly, they seemed more worried about David than I would have thought. “So he calls you names, storms off, and then comes back later? What stopped him from being upset over the money in the meantime?” Joan asked, her voice strangely cautious.

“No, no. It wasn’t like that. I know what you’re thinking—that he’s just after the money, but …” I forced a deep breath into my lungs. How to explain to them? I didn’t want them disliking David for any reason, not with everything he’d already been through. “He doesn’t even seem to want the money.” I saw four sets of skeptical eyes fixed on me and four pairs of eyebrows raised, and I knew none of them believed that it was possible. “He’s been through so much.” I could hear the passion in my own voice, and I just had to hope they would hear it too and believe me. “His mom left him, his dad died, and then his grandpa passed too. He has no one.” The four other women exchanged glances, and Angela was the one who finally broke the silence. “He was so terrible to you. Why is he suddenly being so nice? Your heart is so big, but maybe sometimes it wouldn’t kill you to not think the best of people all of the time.” I bit my lower lip. What they were saying made sense, but somehow, I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe David was lying. Not unless he was a far better liar than anyone I’d ever met before. “He doesn’t need the money. He’s gorgeous,

young, and he’s already wealthy.” All of the girls sat up to take notice of my comment and I winced. I’d said just a little bit too much and there was no way I was going to get away without being thoroughly grilled. “You’re talking like you have a thing for him.” Joan’s eyes were curious, but I wasn’t sure I liked the look in her eyes. She still seemed so suspicious. They all were and nothing I was saying was helping them. “That’s not what I meant!” Or was it? I had to admit, if only to myself, I had been awfully drawn to the guy. But that didn’t change the fact that I did believe him. I’d never been the kind of girl to be drawn in by a handsome face or a strong body before, so it wasn’t that. Letting out a sigh, I knew I had to just sit there and wish my friends could trust me. What bad judgment had I shown before? I had the sense it would just make it worse if they thought I was defending him, so I stayed quiet, frustrated and helpless to make them understand. “We care about you,” Angela said, and I felt myself softening a bit, the frustration and helplessness fading a little. “That’s why we’re worried. This guy, he’s acting a bit weird. You have to admit that.

Maybe it’s what you say, maybe it’s something different, but …” Joan broke in. “Just try to be careful.” Because it would make them feel better, I nodded. I honestly didn’t think there was any reason to be careful, though. Maybe they could see that in my eyes. “What if he’s after the money? We all know how rich people can get. They want more and more money and nothing is ever enough.” I had to grant Angela that, but Theodore hadn’t been like that. I had hope David wasn’t either. No, he wasn’t. He hadn’t even mentioned the money. “He said I should move into his grandfather’s old house. He was worried because my apartment was so small,” I remembered. “There’s no way he’s after the money if that’s what you think.” Why would he be trying to get me to accept my inheritance if he just wanted to take it from me? No, I didn’t buy it. David’s story made complete sense to me and he’d apologized profusely for everything he’d done to me. I’d been able to feel his remorse for the whole situation. The man had wasted twelve years, after all. Of course he was upset about that. Anyone would be.

My friends were good, sweet, caring people, but they were letting their own suspicious minds get in the way. I knew they’d all been hurt by men before. I knew it because I’d heard them talking about it. Of the four of them, only one was married, and Joan and Angela were both divorced. “Okay, okay, I get it.” Angela held her hands up in surrender, laughing a little bit. “You’ve got it bad for this guy. It’s fine. And you’ve got us to watch your back, right? So it’s all good.” She seemed satisfied and so did the other two women, who I didn’t know all that well. Something in Joan’s eyes, though, said she didn’t seem to feel the same way. On the surface, it was all fine. Joan dropped the subject and the conversation moved on, though every so often one of the four other women would shoot me a bit of a look. It was a lot to take, I knew that. Not only the whole thing with David, either, but just the fact that I’d gotten so much money. I hadn’t even tossed any figures around—I was too cautious for that—but they were still worried for me. The whole David issue was a big part of the

problem. I even understood why. If someone had told me everything that had happened, I would have thought there was a pretty good chance they were going to get themselves into trouble too. David wasn’t like that, though. David had opened up to me. He’d shown me sides of himself I somehow knew he didn’t show to most people. These four women were good people, but they didn’t know him. Somehow, I felt like I did know him. At least a little. Enough to be sure that he was not the monster I’d sort of thought he was when I’d first learned about him. He had reasons for everything he’d done. What really got to me was how badly he felt about all of it. He’d made a terrible mistake, and I knew he was paying for it. He would keep paying for it. I wasn’t sure he would ever forgive himself. Maybe I was just the woman who had nursed his grandfather, but I figured if I could forgive him, it was a start. Maybe it could get him to the point where, someday, he could forgive himself. I would help him. And I would get to spend time with him too. My motives were pure, of course, but I would admit I enjoyed being around him. Not just because he was handsome—though he was—but

also just because of the person he was inside. He’d shown me that person. He’d become vulnerable for me, and I had already made the decision. It didn’t really matter what my girlfriends thought. I valued their opinion, but I would make my own choices. I was going to be friends with David Black if he would let me. It seemed to me like he needed a friend, maybe more than anyone else I’d ever met. If he wanted me, he could have me. As a friend. And I definitely hoped he did. When I’d held his hand, it had sent little shots of electricity through me. He and I had some kind of a connection. Maybe it was because we both cared deeply about the same man. Or maybe it was something else altogether. Whatever it was, I wanted to see it through. And I had hope that he would too.

David When I remembered the night Brent and I had made this plan, the one thing that stuck out in my mind was how open I’d been and how honest I was with the alcohol in my system. How I’d said things

I normally wouldn’t have said, just because the beers had taken my inhibitions away. Why not use that? I knew from texting with Kaye, as I had started doing now and then, that she had taken my advice and moved into my grandfather’s old house. It burned me up inside to think of her living there. The woman who had, the way I saw it, essentially robbed my grandfather. It did mean, though, that I knew where to go to find her. After impatiently waiting a few days, I put the next part of my plan into motion. It was a balancing act, deciding on timing. I wanted to act quickly enough to keep her interest, but not so quickly that it would seem strange. Still, I wanted her safely married to me by the time my grandfather’s estate was settled. From the research I’d done, it could be as soon as six months, especially since I had no intention of contesting the will. My grandfather had paid someone to act as the executor, and I would let him do his job without the slightest hint of protest. I had a much more sure-fire way to get the money, after all. Why get involved in a nasty fight I had no chance of winning?

Still, it was time to get a move on, which is why I drank one beer. Just one, so I would smell and taste like it. Staggering up the walkway to the house, I let my eyes blur. Leaning carefully against the side of the house, as though I could barely stay on my own feet, I knocked on the door. I closed my eyes and bowed my head, as though it were almost too heavy for me to hold up. It was night time, but only just. The sun had gone down about an hour ago, so I knew there was a good chance she would be awake. “David?” She pulled the door open and those remarkable green eyes of hers widened as she looked me over. “David, are you okay? Come in. Are you sick?” “No.” I let my words slur a little bit and pushed myself away from the wall, acting as if it was all too much for me and collapsing back against it. “Sorry for bothering you.” The woman had quite the caring nurse act going, and I was willing to bet she wouldn’t let that slip. It was possible that she even did feel sorry for me. I was doing everything I could to be pitiful, and when I felt her arm slip around my waist, I knew I was doing it well.

“It’s grandpa,” I whispered, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and leaning on her just enough to make my story plausible. This close, surely she could smell the beer. She smelled like coconut and fruit, and damned if she didn’t smell good enough to eat. Whoa. I wasn’t there to fall for her charms. What did it matter what she smelled like? “Come on,” she said, and she even supported my weight better than I would have expected. I outweighed her, but she was strong. Of course, she was a nurse, so that was hardly surprising. “I’m such an idiot,” I moaned, and it was actually pretty easy to put sadness and regret into my voice. I felt them. Part of why I was so determined to bring Kaye to justice was because I hated how she had taken advantage of my grandfather. The money was only part of it, but not the biggest part. I hadn’t served my grandfather well in life so I would serve him now. “No, you’re not.” Kaye helped me to the couch and eased me down gently onto it. “Please don’t say things like that, David. You’ve made mistakes, but we all have.”

I knew it. I knew that for her Mary Sunshine act to work, she was going to have to comfort me. I had to applaud her, though. She belonged in Hollywood, because even though I knew her game, I was hard pressed to find any signs of insincerity. “I wish I had him back,” I whispered, and it was true. So very true that it was no problem to put sadness into my voice. “David, I’m so sorry.” Kaye leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me. The softness of her full breasts pressed sweetly against my arm, and I felt a throbbing heat start to build through my body, focused on my cock and balls. Oh, she was good. She made me want her just by hugging me. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought this was all completely sincere. It really seemed like all she was doing was comforting me, but the way her gorgeous, soft tits pushed against me couldn’t be accidental. Well, I had come to deepen the relationship between us, right? So why not ‘let’ her seduce me? It would give her a sense of power. Normally that would irritate me—I wanted to be the one in control of things, always. But for my purposes, I’d allow her to think she had the upper hand. Letting a gorgeous woman try to get me into bed

was a sacrifice I could willingly make. So I did the only logical thing. I wrapped my arm around her slender waist, tugged her into my lap, and kissed her. For just a second her lips parted, and I tasted not only her sweetness but also victory. I’d won. She doubtless felt like she was the one who had trapped me, but it was the other way around. Then I realized something. She was pulling away, her jade eyes wide and her hand rising to cover her lips as though protecting them. She hadn’t kissed me back. The way her pretty lips had parted, it was entirely because of her surprise. The whole thing was over in half a second. Maybe less. “What’s wrong?” I slurred, glad that I’d thought to act drunk. It was all about the deniability. I could so easily say I had only been acting this way because of the booze. It had also made her feel sorry for me, so it was a good plan all around. Kaye still had the slender, beautiful fingers of her own hand pressed against her full lips. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you think that …I don’t do that.”

I frowned a little bit. That reaction wasn’t what I had expected. I’d thought she would be eager for it —that she would see it as a way to further ensnare me. Could it be an act? I looked at her thoughtfully, only barely remembering to keep my own drunk act in place. “What do you mean? You don’t do what?” I had to be misunderstanding her. How else did she always get what she wanted, if not by using that gorgeous body of hers? I stared at her and watched as she bit her full lower lip, worrying at it with even, white teeth. How was it that even her damn teeth were beautiful? How was that even possible? “I don’t …I’ve never …” She struggled with the words a little, and I watched with dawning understanding, and, yes, surprise. I already knew she was a good actor, but she wasn’t faking this. I was sure of it. I made her say it. I am and have always been at least a little bit of a sadist, and even though I was fairly sure what she was going to say, I still wanted to hear the words, to see the blush on her cheeks, and to watch the way she worried at her lips.

It was so damn sexy, it should be illegal. Not that I was being drawn in, because I wasn’t. I wasn’t, damn it. “I won’t have sex with you.” When she finally managed to say it, her tone was very firm. It stayed firm as she continued on. “I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex, and I’m not about to start now.” Oh, God. She was a virgin. For some reason, I believed that even though I didn’t believe most of what she said. There was a sort of defiance in the way she said it—like she expected me to laugh at her—that made me sure she was telling the truth. “Never?” I asked, and I tried not to think too much about what that meant. No one had ever touched her. No one had ever parted her smooth, firm thighs and slid deep inside the very center of her being. She shook her head, and I had to take a second to clear my mind—to really fully comprehend what she was saying. She was younger than me, I knew that much. She couldn’t be older than twenty-six or maybe twentyseven at the most. Still, how many virgins were there at that age? Not to mention how utterly

delectable she was. If she really was untouched, I knew it had to be by her own choice. “You’ve never done anything?” I looked at her, trying to figure out how this could be true. It hardly fit in with the image I had of her in my mind, a man-eating succubus out to get whatever she wanted. However she could. “No. I’ve never been touched like that,” she admitted, her chin tilted proudly high, that hint of defiance still there in her voice and in her pretty eyes. “Not by anyone.”

Including herself. She didn’t have to say it, but I knew it was true. She’d never even had her own hands on her sexy, tight, little body. Was she a prude? It was possible, but I didn’t think so. I thought, somewhere deep down inside, in a place she didn’t even acknowledge at all, she was wound up tighter than anyone I’d ever met. The idea thrilled me. What would it be like to be the one who finally released all of that tension trapped within her? What would she give to the man who managed to get through to her? I was doing this just for the money and the revenge for taking advantage of my dying grandfather, I told myself firmly. But as I got to know her more, that was getting harder to keep in mind. If I wanted to be completely honest with myself, which I wasn’t sure I did, it was more than the money. I wanted to be her first. I wanted to create that impression on her. It wasn’t part of the plan. In my mind, bedding her had been nothing more than a pleasant way to make her think the marriage was real when I’d been drunkenly planning all of this with Brent.

That was all changing, and I wasn’t sure I could keep up. Not without losing myself.

Part Two

Chapter 6 Kaye My confession hung between us in the complete and utter silence, and I had to sort of kick myself for my own words. Why had I told David that? Why would I tell him the secret that I had kept to myself for so long? The truth was, I had never told anyone I was untouched. Most of the people I knew had a much more casual attitude toward sex than I did. Everyone had always assumed, at least as far as I knew, that I was the same way as everyone else. After all, how many virgins of my age could there possibly be in the world? It was so much easier to just let everyone assume what they naturally would. I knew the truth, and I had always found it was enough for me to know the truth.

For the first time, I had told someone else. I held my breath, waiting for him to respond. I could tell he was shocked, and I had to wonder if he would be disgusted by what I had disclosed to him. Maybe he would just walk out. I wasn’t even sure I could blame him if he did. How pathetic did I have to seem to him? I had had offers, but not as many as people sometimes assumed. I had deliberately kept myself busy. I’d never really wanted to date, not until the time was right. It never had been. So why did I tell him? I had no idea. There was just something about him. It pulled at me like nothing else ever had. I had been attracted to men before, but it had never hit me this hard. It had been threatening to rain all day, and all of a sudden, it hit. A blast of wind hit the side of the house as if summoned out of nowhere, and seconds later, the wind started to patter against the windows. It wasn’t just rain and wind, either. I jumped a little bit as a flash of lightning visibly lit up the sky outside of the mansion and strange shadows danced

on the wall. A very short time later, it was followed by the sharp crack of thunder. This place didn’t quite feel like my home yet. Those shadows weren’t familiar to me at all. I gave a cry of fear, which I sort of hated myself for. I had nerves of steel and could deal with most things, but for some reason, storms freaked me out. “Are you okay?” he asked, taking a step toward me. I was still waiting for him to just make his excuses and leave, but instead he reached out and touched my shoulder. It felt good. Far too good. I had never been as interested in anyone as I was in him. I’d started off disliking him, but something else was going on here. I didn’t quite know what it was yet, but something in me yearned for him. “Yes.” Even though I tried to sound brave, my voice trembled, and I forced a deep breath into my lungs to try to calm myself. I tried to steady myself before speaking again. “I'm all right.” And, then, just like that, he was right there. I was in his arms, and he was holding me, secure and warm and safe. When the lightning flashed and the thunder roared again, I didn’t jump quite as much as I had the first time.

A smaller house would be shaking with the fury of the sudden storm, I was sure of it. The mansion stood solidly, just as David did, and I let myself just cling to him. I’d never been the type to accept comfort from other people, but from him it somehow seemed okay. His hand moved slowly down my arm, then took my hand in his. “You’re shaking,” David commented, as he gazed down into my eyes. “I don’t think you’re okay.” He moved his other hand up and down my arm to warm me. I couldn’t even deny it. I hadn’t known I was shaking, but when he said it, I realized he was right. I was trembling in his arms. What can I say? It had been a rough time for me, and I was a little overwrought to say the least. “I’ll be …” “Shh.” He stroked my hair, and I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had tried to soothe me. I was the nurse. I was the one who took care of others, not the one who was cared for. It felt strange, but I liked it more than I would have expected. And then, of all things, he was sweeping me up into his arms and actually carrying me, bridal style, steady and sure as he walked up the mahogany staircase. He walked like he belonged there, and I

realized he had probably spent a lot of time here when he was younger. It felt more like his place than mine, and for once in my life I just relaxed and let myself be taken care of. I spoke only once, to direct him to the room I had taken for my own, but otherwise I just looped my arms around his neck and enjoyed his scent. I enjoyed it just a little bit too much, actually. When we got to my room, he put me gently down on the king-sized bed, and when he settled down with me, it was a relief. Maybe I would have protested, but right as we got settled in there was another peal of thunder and I found myself honestly just glad to have him there. The floor-to-ceiling windows in the bedroom brought the outdoors in. Sheer, pale blue curtains did little to hide the fact that a storm was raging just beyond the window panes. A flash of lightning lit up the whole room. It was a large room—larger than my own home had been. I didn’t even flinch when the thunder came. I was safe in David’s arms. It seemed like nothing could hurt me when I was with him. “There’s something about you, Kaye,” he whispered, and there was a touch of vulnerability in his voice—the same exact tone as when he’d told

me about his tragic life. Something tugged at my heart, unlike anything I had ever experienced. “What do you mean?” I asked, wrapped around him, my heart still beating fast in my chest. Outside, the storm raged on, but it had less importance to me. I was lying in a bed with a man for the first time. That trumped any storm. “I don’t know.” His voice was a sexy, thoughtful little murmur, and despite my fear of being alone with him and in a bed, it sent strange little shivers down my spine. It was usually so easy for me to ignore my attraction to men, but with him it wasn’t quite as simple. “I just know I can’t seem to stop wanting to be around you.” I closed my eyes, and not because of the storm this time. There was this warmth growing inside of me, something thrilling and exasperating and also somehow so damn right. I couldn’t think of any better way to put it, even to myself. The man who held me in his arms had awakened something inside of me no man ever had before. “I want to see you more,” David said, and his hands were so perfect on me. They stroked over my hair, smoothing it, and I found myself instinctively moving closer to him. “I want to take you out. Just you and me.”

Just him and me. A shiver went through me as I opened my eyes, trying to fight through the sudden burst of happiness filling me from the inside out. If he was saying what I thought he was, then it was insane. I barely knew him. “Do you mean you want to …date me?” I could be wrong. Maybe he’d meant something else entirely. I was taking it as a sort of romantic request, but it could just mean he wanted to be my friend. “Like a boyfriend?” Was that what I wanted it to mean? Suddenly, I wasn’t entirely sure. I wanted more with him. If he was asking me out, I had my answer at the ready. “Yes,” David said simply, and I drew in a quick breath, trying to caution myself—to keep myself from flying completely out of control. And then he was kissing me again. This time, I didn’t have it in me to push him away. I didn’t want to. I was hardly experienced when it came to this sort of thing, but the press of his tongue as it brushed against the seam of my lips—I found it irresistible. I opened my mouth to him and utterly lost myself in the kiss. A wave of heat rushed through my veins,

seemingly carried in my very blood, pounding through me until I couldn’t think of anything else. For some unknown amount of time, we kissed and ran our hands all over each other, and I let myself do it. After all, he wanted to date me. He wanted to be with me. I’d never had a boyfriend before. He would be my first. He shifted against me, and I felt something hard thrust against my hip, just for a second. I knew what it was, of course. A nurse would pretty much have to know, and though I was highly intrigued by it, I wasn’t about to tease him—tease both of us— by letting it go any further. “David,” I whispered, pulling away from him. I thought he might show some anger at being interrupted, especially since I pulled my hips gently, but firmly, away from his. There was confusion on his face, but it faded away into acceptance, and I realized something important. He wouldn’t pressure me. Even as his cock was hard—as it had obviously been—he let me pull away from him. And he hadn’t said a word to pressure me. He was sweet and patient, even though it was far too obvious he wanted me. I couldn’t help but appreciate all of those things about him. Even him

wanting me. Maybe even especially him wanting me. It was going fast, at least for me. Just lying in bed wrapped in someone’s arms and making out with them was not the sort of thing I did. Ever. But my body was pleasantly alight with a pulsing sort of warmth, and there was this strange, hot tingling between my legs I’d never experienced before. The fact of the matter was, I wanted this. All of it. Maybe I was an idiot, but I never had been before, so I had to think this was something real. Why else would I be so very drawn to him? Why else would he drive me crazy, like no one else ever had? “Do you mean it?” I asked, and I pressed my lips against his strong jaw, kissing along it and feeling the slight roughness of his stubble. He was so masculine and he smelled incredible. “Yes,” he whispered, and his arms tightened around me. He didn’t try to push anything, though. His hands rested on the small of my back, but he didn’t try to grope me. I could trust him. I was safe with him. Maybe, just maybe, this could be something real.

“Yes,” I echoed, repeating the word he’d just said. Yes, I would date him. God, yes. We barely knew each other, and I knew it was a little bit crazy, but I couldn’t make myself turn something like this down. Not when I wanted it so badly. “As long as we can go slow. We can see what happens,” I added, because the cautious side of my brain demanded it. I had to be careful. Even throbbing with heat and arousal, I couldn’t do anything else. “We’ll see what happens,” he agreed. And then— just like that—I had, for the very first time in my life, a boyfriend. A strong, handsome, utterly gorgeous boyfriend. When he kissed me again, I was right there for him, waiting. I wasn’t going to have sex with him, of course. Us dating hadn’t changed who I was. Despite everything, part of me was just the tiniest bit disappointed that he didn’t push me further. I was relieved, of course, but I had never ached for anyone the way I ached for him. My body had never been so eager for anyone.

David A man could drown in Kaye’s kisses. He could lose

himself completely if he allowed it to happen. Those sweet, innocent, sexy-as-hell kisses that had me far too hard, far too quickly. I had been so sure she had used her body to get what she wanted—that she gave herself to men and, in return, they left their money to her. I knew it wasn’t true anymore. I had a virgin. And she had already given herself to me, at least a little bit, by agreeing to date me. My plan was working, and now—on top of everything else—I was going to get to be the very first man who ever had the lovely Kaye James. “So how’s it going with the girl?” Brent had this smirk on his face. It made me—just for a second or two—want to smack him, though I quickly pulled myself together. Damn it, though, couldn’t he at least learn her name? Kaye. He was hardly going to be able to seduce her if he couldn’t be bothered to learn it. Kaye. Her name was beautiful and sweet, just like she was. “Kaye,” I corrected, and I fought very hard to keep my voice completely even. No need to fly off the handle. Brent didn’t have any reason to care about her name, at least not yet. As long as he could remember it when it counted, I should have no

issues. “Okay, fine. Kaye. How're things going?” Brent was nothing if not persistent, which made him pretty much the perfect man for this particular job. “Well, I’d say things are going pretty well,” I said, fighting off a bit of a smirk. “She has herself a brand-new boyfriend, and I have …” I couldn’t help but brag a little. How many guys could say what I was about to say? “I have myself a virgin.” “Oh my God,” Brent said, and I could pretty much see his eyes popping out just at the thought. Who could blame him? A virgin. Not only that, but a drop-dead gorgeous virgin. “Are you serious? She’s a virgin?” I nodded, and though it was a bit ridiculous, I wanted to puff my chest out with pride. Just a little. It wasn’t like I had done anything special, really. It was complete luck that Kaye was untouched, but I knew I had impressed my best friend. “Can we change things up, maybe?” Brent asked, after a bit of silence as he processed the news I’d dropped on him. “You could introduce me to her before you get married? I’ve never popped a cherry before.” The strangest thing happened to me then. I had the

urge to growl, to glare at my best friend, and to tell him to back the hell off. Kaye was mine. I took a deep breath, having to calm myself down and back away from some pretty serious potential rage. And why was that, exactly? I had no idea why I was feeling so prickly, but I was. And I wasn’t about to let Brent think for a moment that he could touch a hair on the girl’s head. “That doesn’t make any sense,” I pointed out. “I can’t discover the two of you in bed together before we get married, or it defeats the whole purpose. I need to be married to her, or we both get nothing.” Brent frowned, and I had thought maybe he was joking, but I realized something then. He was actually sort of serious. At the very least, he was reluctant to let go of the idea of having her first, and the growl I had fought off threatened to come back in full force. “It can be an ongoing affair,” Brent argued, and my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “I take her first. Then it’s even more of a betrayal if she’s been sleeping with me the whole time you guys were married and even before.” I shook my head. No way was I going to let that happen. I was, to say the very least, attached to the

idea of being her first. It had thrilled me deeply to know that I would get to be her first, and I wasn’t about to give something so amazing up. “She’d never do a thing like that. You don’t know her at all. She’s sweet, innocent, and pure. Pure as the driven snow. She’s not the kind of woman who’d start sleeping with one man while keeping another dangling on the side.” While I wasn’t sure about her morals when it came to money, I knew she wouldn’t do a thing like that when it came to sex. “It’s not in her. No. I get her first.” I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at him with an expression I knew he would recognize. I had always been good at getting my way when I really wanted to and this was one of those times. “I don’t even want you to meet her until the wedding.” It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but …well. I didn’t trust him. I knew him too well, and when it came to women, he really wasn’t a very nice guy. I couldn’t claim I was much better, of course, but I chose not to think about it too much. “David …” I could tell Brent was going to keep arguing. I shook my head firmly. “I’ll cut you out of the deal completely,” I threatened, and it wasn’t an idle threat. I made sure he knew it, too, pretty much

glaring at him. “You’ll be out a lot of money. Just drop it.” My threat shut him up, as I knew it would. I hated to do it, but I also didn’t want him thinking he could talk me out of this. Kaye was mine. No. Not mine. I had to remember what this was. Her first time, though, definitely belonged to me. “Fine,” he muttered, clearly put out. He was such a child sometimes, but he was my only real friend and he was damn good at his job. “You’ll get her soon enough,” I pointed out, smirking a little bit. Only, I didn’t feel quite right inside. It was one thing to plan this all out before, but it was all starting to feel so easy. Too easy. “Yeah, that’s right,” Brent said, perking up noticeably. “You’ll be married to her in no time at this rate.” It was true. I knew it. She seemed to have a sort of weakness around me, which gave me another of those strange twinges of conscience. It would be so easy to get her to fall in love with me and to sweep her into a whirlwind romance and marriage. “So when do you want me to, you know, step in?” Brent asked, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked

at him with a smile, though it didn’t feel natural on my lips. “At the wedding,” I decided. “Which I think will probably be in just a few months.” I was already moving quite fast and definitely had no intention of slowing down, no matter what those inconvenient little twinges of conscience said. Nor the little shocks of pain that went through me when I thought about Brent touching Kaye or about her moaning and arching toward anyone else as he slid inside her. Getting possessive over a woman had never really been the sort of thing to happen to me before. I had never let myself get close enough to one. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and I found myself having to push it away time after time. “Okay, perfect,” Brent smirked, and it was a relief to me when he seemed oblivious to how strangely I’d been feeling about the whole thing. Not that I was having doubts, I assured myself. I still wanted what was mine. It was just that maybe Kaye could feel like mine, if I let her. “So you sweep her off her feet and into bed, and then marry her,” Brent plotted, and I forced myself to meet his smirk with one of my own. “Then I’ll

meet her at the wedding, ask her to dance, and I’ll tumble her into bed myself with indecent haste.” I let a deep, deep breath soothe me and forced my head to nod in agreement. Just think of the money, I told myself. Think about the betrayal of grandfather leaving everything to Kaye, who was almost a stranger. I was his own flesh and blood. I was the rightful heir. Why would he do such a hateful thing if not because of something she’d done? Even thinking about Brent dancing with her at my wedding, though, could be enough to really anger me. If I let it. So the trick was not to let it, and I thought I was equal to the task. After all, I’d been with many women and none of them had ever gotten their claws into me. I knew better. After what my mother had done to my father—and to me—I would never trust a woman. I wouldn’t make the same mistakes he had. No matter how sweet Kaye seemed, she was still a woman and she would betray me. Which was the whole point. I was going to use her nature against her and let her inevitable betrayal benefit me. It was a small way of getting revenge, not only against my grandfather and against her, but also against my mother. Maybe she would never know, but I would and I thought it would be enough.

So I smirked at my best friend and nodded. “Yep, that’s the plan.” It was a good plan too. Simple. In my experience, those were the plans that worked the best—the ones without too many bells and whistles. Kaye would never know what had hit her, as long as Brent and I could pull it off. Simple didn’t mean easy, and I knew if either of us pushed too fast, we could scare her off. Still, I was on the right track and I knew I could do this. I would have everything I wanted soon enough, with just a little bit of patience. Just a little bit of pushing. Not too fast, but just enough to keep her off balance and intrigued without scaring her off. It was a thin line and I was going to have to walk it carefully. The rewards were astronomical, though, and it was more than worth it. Glancing at Brent, I knew he would do his part flawlessly. He always had women flinging themselves at him, and Kaye, I figured, would be no exception. “You and I are both going to be very wealthy men,” I commented and laughed as I raised a bottle of beer in a slightly mocking toast.

“To money,” he said, while I clinked my glass bottle to his. “To money,” I echoed, and then added, forcing a nonchalance that I didn’t quite feel, “To Kaye.” “To Kaye,” Brent repeated. To Kaye. The woman who was going to make all of our dreams come true. Whether she knew it or not.

Chapter 7 Kaye An odd, nervous, excited energy filled me as I got ready for my first real date. Of course I had been out with people and done fun things with them, and some of those people had been men. But to go out, one-on-one, in a distinctly romantic context—I had never allowed myself to do that before. David had told me to dress up, and as I glanced in the mirror, I had to admit I looked good. I rarely found occasions to wear anything fancy, but I’d picked a scarlet dress that somehow made my green eyes shine even brighter and set off my dark hair perfectly.

I tried not to blush when I saw how the bright fabric clung to my hips and breasts and made my waist look tiny. I looked sexy. Hot. Not at all how I would usually dress. I even had heels on. The look on David’s face when I opened the door to his knock made the whole thing worth it. His absolute delight was obvious as he scanned me from head to toe—but in a way, that made me feel beautiful and cherished, not cheap. He had some skills, I had to admit. “You look beautiful,” he breathed, and I believed him. I both thought he saw me that way and thought that I actually was, which was fantastic. “Thank you,” I murmured, slightly warm and flushed. David offered me his arm and I took it, feeling strange and fluttery inside. He was such a gentleman, and even though it was all happening so quickly, I couldn’t help but be glad I’d decided to go for it and date him. I could almost swear the soles of my black pumps didn’t even touch the ground as he swept me out to the car. “Where are we going?” I asked as I settled myself in his car, which was a BMW that I was completely

sure would make me dizzy if I knew how much it had cost him. I knew, logically speaking, that I owned quite a few expensive cars myself, but I had never driven any of them. Which reminded me, was this the time to offer him the half of the money I’d inherited? I watched his profile and shook my head. No. It wasn’t the right time. Probate hadn’t even fully cleared yet. I probably wasn’t even supposed to be living in the mansion and I hadn’t gotten anything yet. It would be better to wait, so if he said yes, I could hand him a check right away. Besides, I wanted to enjoy this night without any money hanging over our heads. So when he reached for my hand, I let him have it, his fingers slipping through mine and our palms touching, almost caressing each other. “You’ll see.” He smiled over at me, dark eyes shimmering. “It’s a surprise.” We held hands for the whole drive, and I could almost feel my inner defenses—the ones I had built up so firm, strong, and tall around my heart— melting away a little at a time. He was so handsome, and the sun was setting around us, and I couldn’t honestly think of a time I had been

happier. I didn’t have to stay curious for long, as it didn’t take long for us to get there. He drove up to a gorgeous building, trendy and sort of funky, and my eyes felt like they couldn’t get any bigger. The restaurant, The Chameleon, was one even I had heard of, and I wasn’t much for the whole fancy dining scene. It was charming, with lights strung up around it and a gorgeous patio. “Oh, Mr. Black. I’m glad you and your lovely lady made it.” A man dressed all in white smiled at us, seeming genuinely glad to see us. “We’ve already cleared the floor for you. Please, come in.” We were led in and seated, and I looked around, trying to take it all in. It was, no doubt, the fanciest restaurant I’d ever been in. It had this gorgeous chandelier, one just trendy and modern enough to fit in with Portland’s unique scene, while still being lovely and elegant. The tables had been pushed aside, just as our host had said, and the wooden floor was revealed. There was even a live band playing soft jazz, and a few couples were dancing. It was the height of sophistication, at least as far as I knew. I was no expert, but I was definitely

impressed. “You did this,” I realized, turning to look at him seated across the table from me. I saw his little smirk and knew I was right. They were accommodating us with a special request. “I wanted our first date to be special,” he admitted, and those barriers around my heart melted just a little bit more. There wasn’t a lot left of them. Our first date. But not, I now knew, our last. Not when he was making it so perfect. How hard had it been for him to find a place for a romantic, candle lit dinner with exquisite food and dancing in Portland? “Dance with me,” I whispered, and I stood up, holding his hand in mine and tugging him up. He came willingly and then led me out onto the dance floor, where he turned and wrapped his arms around me as we swayed to the music. “You know, you’re the most beautiful woman here,” he whispered in my ear as our bodies moved together like they had been made to do so. “I’m so glad you came out with me.” I had to close my eyes, just for a second. I had never been so swept away—not by anything or anybody. Nothing got to me like David did, and I let

myself fall into him, knowing somehow he would be there to catch me. He had won me over and he didn’t even seem to be trying. My heart was pounding for him, and in that endless moment, swaying together in his arms, I felt I would do anything he wanted as long as he didn’t stop holding me. The whole night was amazing. It was nothing short of magic. I had read the books and I had watched the movies, but I had never seen what the big deal about romance was. I knew now, because of him. And I let myself get lost in the magic.

THE NIGHT SEEMED to fly by, and before I knew it, we were back at my house. At my new house—the one I had been left by Theodore. For the first time, it felt like it really was my home. When he pulled me close to him, enfolded me in his strong arms, and kissed me, I felt like I was home. It didn’t make any sense, but maybe that was the very reason I trusted it so much. I didn’t try to pull back. I let him have my mouth. I opened up to him and it was nothing short of

glorious. “May I come in?” he asked, and he was polite, but definitely interested. I hesitated. I knew it was a bad idea. After the fantastic night we had just had, I was far too tempted to say yes, and yet I had never been the sort of girl who would tempt fate. Inviting him into my house would be doing quite a bit of fate tempting. “I don’t …” “Please,” he whispered, and he was so close to me that his lips brushed over mine as he spoke in a way that sent delightful little shivers through my entire body. “Kaye, I need you. I promise I won’t hurt you or do anything you don’t want.” Other men had said things to me, similar things, and I had never been tempted to believe them. I fought with myself, but it was a losing battle, and I really knew it before I even started to try. I opened the door slightly, and then he was on me, kissing me, his hands finally sweeping down to cup my ass and pull me against him. I should have been scared, but he’d started a fire in the very core of my being—a fire that burned hotter as he fed it with his kisses and his touches. Pinned against the wall, he ground his hard cock

against me. I was completely helpless to stop him— not that I wanted to. His mouth was hot on my neck as he bit it gently, then sucked the spot. I was shaking with an unknown need. No wonder some of my friends said things like, ‘I was helpless. I had to give in to him.’ I understood them all a lot better now as David’s hand moved to massage my breast and I did nothing to stop him. My pussy was aching for more as he pressed his cock against it, only the fabric of our clothing between us. Could I handle staying true to myself and keep my virginity in tact? The way my insides were quaking, I knew I was in deep shit with the man. He was taking those walls around my heart down as if he had a sledgehammer to finish the job. “Let me taste you,” he murmured, and even in his eagerness, I knew that he would back off if I told him to. There was so much confidence in his voice, though, like he knew I wouldn’t shut him down. And he was right. My heart pounded as I let it do the talking, leaving my brain out of it. “Do it, David,” I whispered, feeling far more reckless than I ever allowed myself to be. But I couldn’t resist. I’d tried, but it was pointless.

I needed him. He wanted to taste me? Well, I wanted to let him. I was completely caught up in him, like I was in the ocean and he was the undertow pulling me helplessly under waves of arousal. Effortlessly, he caught me up in his arms and carried me to my bedroom. I ran my arms around his neck and kissed the side of it as he carried me away to do a thing I’d never thought about letting anyone do before. He set me gently down on my back, then his hands snagged the hem of my skirt and pulled it up. I should have been terrified, and maybe part of me was. Mostly, though, I was fixated on the vulnerability of having myself bared to him—to anyone—for the very first time. He slid my panties out of the way and ran his fingers over my slickened, slippery folds. No one had ever touched me there. Not even my own fingers had slid up my slit to find my aching clit, and right then and there, I was lost. “I need to taste you, my sweet girl,” David murmured, and his voice was nothing less than pure, unadulterated sex. I was already wet for him, but with the magic his voice and his fingers wrought on me, I was soon gushing.

And all of this was before he leaned down and brushed his full, gorgeous lips over my engorged, desperate nub, teasing it until I felt like I would burst. I’d never known it could be like this to be touched. I had no idea before then what pleasure my body could give me. The forces gathering within me were so intense, I found myself gasping and rocking up toward him, and there was something wrong with my breathing. I couldn’t quite keep air in my lungs and I was soon panting. It didn’t matter. Nothing did, except for how good he was making me feel. He settled between my legs, spreading them wide, and I should have felt helpless and scared. I felt anything but. There was a sense of power to this—in seeing this gorgeous man between my legs and in watching as his tongue bathed my clit lovingly. Without my conscious direction, my hips tilted up, rocking toward the sensation I knew would have me rocketing toward something I had never felt before. So this is an orgasm. I wasn’t even there yet, and I knew it was going to leave me helpless and shaking. My fingers slid into his dark hair as what felt like molten lava rushed

through me. “David!” The explosion that rocked through my body was every bit as intense as I had thought it would be. No, it was more. I wasn’t even sure I could hold on to my sanity as I rocketed up into the clouds, utterly gripped by the glorious explosions that took me over entirely. I had waited so long for this and it had been worth the wait. Even as I thought the words, though, I knew it wouldn’t have been even close to as good had it been with anyone other than David.

David The way Kaye moaned, writhed, cried my name, and trembled for me was almost as good—almost as intense—as if I had been the one having the orgasm. I’d never had it be like this before. Sex was always something fun, of course, but it had never felt so important before. Perhaps it was the importance she placed on it that made the difference, but it was different. I was utterly enthralled by how she moved under me and by the taste of her sweet fluids on my lips.

There was this sense of pride, too. I had given her the pleasure she’d clearly felt. I was the very first one. I would be the only one. The thought hit me over the head out of nowhere and I reined it in quickly. It was ridiculous. The whole point of this was that I wasn’t going to be the only one. Brent was going to have her too. As I looked down at her, all flushed with her hair sexily disheveled, I made myself a silent vow. If I couldn’t be her only lover, and I already knew I couldn’t, then I would just have to be her best one. “David,” she whispered, her voice slightly hoarser than usual and a little bit deeper. I felt my heart tighten up and fill with unfamiliar emotions, just from the way she spoke one simple word—my name. Lying on the bed on her back, with her red dress hiked up to her waist, too exhausted from my attentions to even make herself decent again, she was nothing short of the most beautiful woman in the world. There wasn’t a single thing about her I didn’t find gorgeous. Her body, of course, was a given. Any man would be enthralled by those sweet curves—

her breasts, which seemed to beg for my touch and the round firmness of her hips and ass. The red dress she had chosen had shown off her voluptuous body to perfection, no doubt about it. If her beautiful form had been all she’d had to offer, maybe I would have had an easier time dismissing her. It wasn’t just her body, though. Everything about her appealed to me. I had been so sure she was some femme fatale who had seduced my grandfather and stolen my inheritance, but I was having a hard time holding on to that conception of her. She was smart. I had picked that up easily enough. She was also somewhat naive, and the combination of brains, beauty, and innocence added up into the most fascinating human being I had ever spent time with. “Kaye,” I whispered, and it was no problem—none at all—for me to act like I was deeply enthralled by her. It was supposed to be something I was only pretending to feel. Just a show. It was getting harder, though, to keep that in mind. “You’re so beautiful.” She was. In every way. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and for her to show how she really

was. But she kept on being the sweet, beautiful, sexy person who she always seemed to be. Kaye smiled at me, and my heart did funny things in my chest. Why was she, of all women, the one I didn’t seem to be able to resist? She was the one that I, above all, needed to be able to control myself around. “Thank you,” Kaye murmured, and I was pleased to hear the sound of her voice, just a little bit deeper than normal. It was full of a sort of dazed afterglow from the pleasure I had given her. “No, thank you,” I replied, and I meant it. This was all becoming a little bit too real, and I wasn’t sure I knew how to stop it. I wanted her. My cock was aching, throbbing desperately between my legs, and demanding things I couldn’t allow myself to take. I needed to be buried deep inside her sweet, tight warmth. I needed to take her for the first time and make her mine, but I absolutely could not do it. I’d promised. She’d trusted me to keep the promise I had made. She was worth patience. So, even though I did ease on top of her, I kept my clothes on. I didn’t give in to my body’s urgent demand to take her. I would make her mine—I

knew it without the slightest hint of doubt in my mind—but I could wait. I did kiss her, though, and I let her feel how hard I was as I pressed against her hip. I wanted her to know what she was doing to me, and by the widening of her eyes and the way her breathing got heavier, she noticed and she liked it. Whether she knew it or not, she was responding to me. I could swear I felt her hips rising and falling, just the tiniest bit, as she rubbed right back against me. She’d never felt a man before, had she? I had doubted it at least a little, but not any longer. As I slid on top of her, she let her hands roam down over my back. I allowed it. If she wanted to explore, I was more than happy to let her do what she wanted. Her hands settled on the curve of my ass and she pulled me closer to her. I didn’t push. I knew she wasn’t ready, and while I could probably make her ready pretty quickly, I didn’t want to deal with any repercussions if I did. I had to give her absolutely no reason to mistrust me. Besides, when I did take her, I wanted her to be absolutely desperate for me. I wanted her to writhe and moan and arch under me as I slid inside her tight body. So I kept myself under control. I rocked slowly against her and let her rub up against me as

we kissed, but I didn’t touch her, didn’t stroke her lovely breasts, or slip my fingers between her legs. “Please,” Kaye finally whispered, her body trembling as she pressed against me. “Please, David, touch me.” The way she spoke, she was almost begging. It sent arrows of hot desire through my whole body, making my stomach clench with the force of it. I hadn’t expected her to pretty much plead with me, and all on her own. It was quite possibly the hottest thing I had ever heard. No, scratch that. It definitely was. “Kaye, my pretty girl,” I whispered, and it was hard for me not to mean the words as they spilled from my lips. My pretty girl. Mine. Only she wasn’t, and I needed to remember it. Still, there was no chance in hell of me turning her down. Without hesitation, I pushed her legs apart and slid my fingers between them, stroking over her slick, swollen lips and teasing her clit. I had never had a woman be this responsive before. The noises she made drove me wild and I eased a

finger inside of her and felt the desperate movements of her hips as she pushed up onto me. “David, David, David.” She moaned my name over and over again, and each time she did it made the heat inside me grow and burn hotter—made me need her so much more. Each movement I made was very careful, though. I didn’t want to hurt her, and she’d never had anything inside of her before. If there had been any doubt remaining, it would have been completely banished. To be as tight as she was, she pretty much had to be a virgin. With my thumb, I found her clit, and I fucked her gently with just the one finger as I rubbed her. Her brilliant eyes were almost wild as she moved under me. I could tell the tension was gathering in her body again and I kissed her to encourage her to let loose. I wanted her utterly addicted to the orgasms I could give her. It wasn’t a logical thing. But when she came apart in my arms, when she gasped and moaned and clung to me as pleasure wracked her body, I felt a great sense of satisfaction that had nothing to do with the plan.

“Oh, David,” she moaned as she dug her nails into my arms, holding tightly to me as her body erupted once more under my touch. Her walls contracted on my finger, and she got ever wetter than she had been as cum gushed out of her. She’d had enough for one night. I smiled at her and kissed her gently, just one more time. Better to leave her wanting more, I figured. But that meant ignoring my own throbbing cock, which was fighting with my brain to let it have some much-needed relief—relief I would not be giving it. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her off. “I’ll see you soon,” I murmured, leaving a kiss just behind her ear. And then I left her lying on the bed, deliciously rumpled. I couldn’t help but look back a few times, just to drink in the sight of her. “I’ll be waiting.” She looked satisfied, I couldn’t help but notice. She kissed her fingers, then waved goodbye. If I kept this up, it would be absolutely no problem at all to get whatever I wanted from her. I would allow her to lose herself in a daze of eroticism, let her romantic self take over, and then she would let herself get swept up. Before I knew it, I would be inside of her, and then she would be mine.

A woman like her, I knew, would give herself completely to the first person she slept with. Once we were married, I would shut her out, and then she’d give herself the same way to Brent. It was all going to plan. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Brent and I would have what we wanted within the year. I was absolutely sure of it. If only I could keep myself from falling for her. When I’d planned this out, I hadn’t expected this. I hadn’t thought I could end up actually liking this young woman. She was getting to me with her sweetness and her beauty and her kind heart—with the noises she made as she came and with the way she looked at me like she thought I could do no wrong. A guy could get used to it, but not, I was determined, this guy. I wasn’t the type to be taken in by a woman—any woman. As long as I was careful, this was still going to work out fine. She believed me. She believed I was nothing more than a guy who wanted to date her and try to build something with her. This was going to end up being like taking candy from a baby, wasn’t it? I smiled grimly to myself as I left her, shutting her bedroom door carefully

behind me. It was just going to involve a little bit more willpower than I had originally thought. No big deal. I would just hold onto my anger about being cut out of my grandfather’s will. As long as I could keep the burning anger fresh and vivid in my mind, I was sure I could keep myself from doing anything really stupid. It wasn’t in my nature to fall in love. Sure, Kaye had surprised me with her cheerful nature, but I wasn’t going to let myself lose everything now. Newly determined, I left her house, jumped in my car, and very decidedly did not look back. The woman was creeping into my heart—a place she did not belong.

Chapter 8 Kaye I was pretty sure my bones had actually dissolved entirely. Either that, or my muscles had turned completely to jelly. Either way, I was in no shape to move. For a long time I just lay on my back, grinning like an idiot. I’d finally had an orgasm!

Not one, but two. And all because David affected me like no other man ever had. In all honesty, I didn’t want to move. Not right away. I could still feel his lips against mine, as though they had imprinted there. I could still feel the warmth of his hands on me and his lips as they licked at my most sensitive area. Of course, I was sad he had left me. I would have loved to have had him stay for the night, holding me, kissing me, and maybe touching me intimately again. Maybe that was the biggest reason it was good he had left. If he had stayed, would I have been able to resist him? No. I knew it on a deep, almost instinctive level. If David had stayed, I would have given myself to him, and I had saved myself for too long to give myself to someone I barely knew. It was too soon. Far too soon. Or was it? I had never had hang ups about waiting for marriage. All I had ever wanted was for it to mean something—really and truly—when I finally did it. Maybe this thing with David was new, but it definitely meant something to me.

I just didn’t know what exactly. I wanted him. When he’d had his mouth on me and when he’d slid his finger inside of me, I had almost gone insane with the desire to have him slip all the way inside of me. Was he the one I had been waiting for? I had always assumed I would know, and something inside of me was telling me he was it. I had been saving myself for him. On the other hand, I had seen enough of how people—men and women both—could act like idiots when they were sexually aroused. I had never been as impulsive as some girls were, but for some reason I wanted to throw caution to the wind and give in to what we both ached for. Was David Black turning me into an idiot? Or would I be the idiot if I didn’t let myself do what I wanted so badly to do? Slowly, I moved my hands down my body, arranging my skirt back down around my legs again. My whole body was still tingling. The orgasms he had given me had utterly blown me away and I wasn’t sure I could trust myself anymore. My hands moved over my own body in a slow caress, just as I wanted his to do. I had never

wanted anyone like I wanted him and the very intensity of the desire made me suspicious of it. What I needed was some advice from someone who wasn’t connected to the situation. Someone who would have a clear head on the subject. It didn’t take me very long at all to figure out who. Slowly, languorously, I reached over and snagged my phone. Through half-closed eyes, and fighting off the continuous urge to smile like an idiot, I pressed the screen beside Joan’s name and waited. Joan was a friend who wouldn’t hesitate to tell me I was being an idiot if I was. Joan, who had never even met David and who would give me good advice, wouldn’t just tell me what she thought I wanted to hear. It was only when she answered the phone and her voice was roughened with sleep and slight irritation that I realized it was past midnight. “Sorry.” I could hear the sheepish tone to my voice. “I didn’t realize what time it was. I’ll hang up now and you can yell at me later.” “Kaye?” Joan went from sounding annoyed to concerned in about half a second, which just made me wince more. I really didn’t want to worry anyone, but I could tell I had freaked her out. Of

course I had. Normal people didn’t call their friends this late at night on a work night unless it was something important. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, and I had gone to hang up when I heard Joan’s voice coming clear as day through the speaker of my phone. “Don’t you dare hang up. What’s going on? You sound strange.” I smiled a secret little smile to myself. Strange. That was one way to put it. She’d never heard me when a man had worn me out this way before. No one had. “Something’s happened,” I admitted, and I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. This whole experience was new to me. I had never had to confess this sort of indiscretion to a friend before. I was always the one who was there to listen to her friends talk about boys. Joan was silent for a moment, and when she spoke she sounded incredibly sure of herself. “It’s a man. You got laid.” I guess my silence gave me away because she gave a whoop of happiness that was so loud I actually had to hold my phone away from my ear for a second while she got herself under control.

“I didn’t sleep with him.” I pulled the tattered shreds of my dignity around myself as she chuckled knowingly. “No, I mean it. I didn’t. We …messed around, though. But no dick penetration. I didn’t have actual sex with him.” Even through the phone, I could tell she was grinning. I could hear it in her voice. “Well, why didn’t you?” Blunt and to the point, just the way I had expected her to be. It was why I had called her, after all, to talk about this stuff. So I rushed forward, not thinking about my words for once in my life. “I don’t know why it didn’t happen. I wanted it to,” I admitted, and my cheeks flushed a darker pink when I said it. It wasn’t the sort of confession I was used to making. “I’ve never heard you sound like this about a guy.” Joan paused, then added, “This isn’t about sex for you, is it? Or not just sex?” Bless her. She was pretty much doing all of the work for me. She and I had been friends for long enough and it almost seemed like she could read my mind. It was making this whole thing much easier. “It’s not just sex,” I whispered, and it helped a lot to know I didn’t have to explain more. I didn’t have to tell her I was a virgin. Maybe she didn’t know all

the details, but she didn’t have to. She knew what a big deal this all was to me. “Say it,” she demanded, and I forced myself to calm down and take a deep breath. For some reason, admitting all of this to myself was far less terrifying than saying it aloud, even to a friend. “It’s not just sex,” I repeated. “It’s more. I think … I think I might be falling for him.” I could practically hear the satisfied smirk on her face when she spoke again. “I know you are. I can hear it in your voice. And I’ve seen the look in your eyes lately. You’ve got it bad.” I shook my head. Damn her smugness. She knew exactly what was going on with me, and I was so out of my depth it wasn’t funny. “What do I do, Joan?” I hated how plaintive I sounded. I was the sort of person who always knew what I was doing when I did something, but with this I was a complete novice. “It’s serious, isn’t it?” Joan didn’t seem to need an answer because she continued on, her voice much more solemn than usual. “How much does he know about you?” I winced a little. I knew what she meant, even if I considered playing dumb. The fact was, there was a

fair bit that David didn’t know about me. “He doesn’t know much of anything about me, other than that I’m a nurse,” I said, my voice almost too quiet to hear. “We only went on our first date tonight, though. It’s too soon to tell him everything.” I had sort of hoped, even if I knew it was impossible, it would always be too soon to tell him. There were already a bunch of firsts going on with David and I wasn’t sure I wanted to add this one in too. “It’s up to you,” Joan admitted. “But I think you should tell him. If you think there is going to be something real between you, he needs to know. What if you get married someday and he doesn’t even know?” She had a point. It wasn’t like I was planning to marry David, but the idea didn’t freak me out quite as much as I would have thought. I didn’t like the idea of telling him. I didn’t like the idea of telling anyone. Even Joan only knew because I’d had a few too many drinks after she had dragged me out to the bar one night when it was all weighing heavily on my mind—the anniversary of the day my life had changed. And I’d spilled it all to her then.

Point being, I didn’t talk to people about it. But Joan was right. If I wanted to really be with him, I was going to need to tell him about my past. Maybe David could even be the sort of person to accept it, given his own background. And he had opened up to me. I should open up to him too. If I wanted things to get deeper between us, that is. There was a reason it hurt me so much to think about David and Theodore, both of them so alone. The truth was, I was all alone too. I had no one, just as he did. It was one reason, one of many, I found myself so drawn to him. When my parents had died and left me when I was just fifteen, it had devastated me. I could far too easily understand how David had felt when he’d lost his father and then Theodore. We shared this bond and he didn’t even know about it. “Kaye?” Joan’s voice pulled me from my thoughts and made me realize I had probably been quiet for too long, lost in my thoughts. “Kaye, what are you scared of? It won’t change anything between you two, not if he’s the sort of man you deserve. I’ve known you for a long time now, and you’ve never felt like this about a man, have you?”

I shook my head, then realized she couldn’t see me. “No, he’s the first man I’ve ever wanted,” I whispered, and it was nothing but the truth. Joan would know. She had known me for years. In fact, we’d gone to school together and she’d known me pretty much from the month I’d aged out of the foster care system and started college. “At least think about it. It’s not right to keep something that big away from the person you’re falling in love with.” Joan seemed to give up, and I appreciated it. She would state her case, but she also knew when to back off. Fair enough. I could promise without any problem and I didn’t hesitate to do so. “I will think about it. You know, I just hate when people feel sorry for me. Sure, I was a young teen when my world changed. I lost my family and my home. I was sent to live with a house full of strangers. No one comforted me when I got sad and lonely for my family. I kept that all to myself, not wanting to bother anyone.” I knew I would think about telling David. After all, if I wanted to be serious with this man, he really should know more about me. “If he’s the right man for you, he won’t be bothered by it. You’ll see. Tell him before it gets to the point that it looks like you purposely kept things from him. That would hurt him. I’m sure you don’t

want that.” She sighed, and I could tell she was tired and needed to get back to sleep. “Go back to bed, Joan. And thanks for the advice. I know you’re right. But I also know how damn hard it is to make my mouth open and talk about that very painful part of my life. But I’ll think about it and see what I can come up with. Maybe I’ll invite him over one evening, get drunk, and it’ll spill out of me like it did with you.” I rubbed my chin, as it itched from David’s whiskers. “Goodnight, Joan.” “Goodnight, Kaye. You have yourself some sweet dreams.” She hung up and I put my cell back on the nightstand. It was late as hell and I still had a bath to take before I turned in for the night. Thanks to David’s attention to me, I’d made a bit of a mess of myself. A glorious mess.

David For weeks I had been playing the same game. And I had been playing it expertly, without a single flaw. I could tell it was time to move on—to step up my game. I could tell she was ready to give more to me.

Maybe she would even give me everything, and God knew I was ready to have it. I had taken her out every day. I worked around her schedule because for some unknown reason she was still working. The picture I had painted of her in my mind wasn’t as accurate as I might have thought, because if she’d been a gold digger, then surely she would have quit her job to enjoy the proceeds of her hard work? It was a little uncomfortable for me to think about it, so I pushed those strange thoughts firmly away. Kaye was probably waiting on the money to get into her accounts—that was most likely the only reason she hadn’t quit her job yet. That had to be it. But I shut those thoughts off because they disturbed me and I hated feeling uncertain. Instead of thinking, I went grocery shopping. Most nights, I had taken my lovely Kaye out for dinner, but I had something very different in mind for tonight. I was going to cook for her—step up my game—and then, well, we’d see what happened. I parked my car, then went to the door, ringing the bell. It was preposterous that I couldn’t just walk in, since the house had been my grandfather’s. But I had to play the gentleman with Kaye. My agenda

was back at the forefront of my mind. “David!” Kaye was clearly thrilled to see me when she opened the door. Her whole beautiful face just lit up, her bright eyes glowing with pleasure. She stepped forward and kissed me briefly on the lips in greeting before her eyes slid down to the bags I was holding. “What’s all this?” I smiled and walked past her, going into the kitchen so I could put everything down. She followed along behind me. I turned to face her, then pulled her into my arms for a real kiss. When I let her go, I was feeling a little weak at the knees, and by her dazed expression, she seemed to be too. “I’m making you dinner.” I laughed at the expression on her face, then added, “You aren’t allowed to help. Sit.” “Not at all?” She took a seat at the island bar, perching on one of the barstools and looking good enough to eat herself. “Not at all. I’m pampering you, my sweet girl.” I poured her a glass of wine and one for myself, too, before getting to work. “You work hard, and I want you to know I see that and admire your drive.” Soon enough, I had a pasta sauce simmering on the stove, garlic bread ready to be toasted in the oven, and a salad all ready to go. I had never—not once in my entire life—met a

woman who was not impressed by a man who would cook for her. “David,” she sighed with pleasure. “It smells so good. Thank you. I did have a hard day today. My patient had a terrible day—much worse than mine. But it makes the job a lot harder when you have to sit by and watch someone endure so much pain. It took forever for the meds to ease the pain for the poor old woman.” While things cooked I turned to look at her and frowned at what I saw. She was as lovely as ever, but when I looked at her—really looked at her—I noticed she had dark circles under her eyes. She was slumped in her chair, apparently completely exhausted. “So you had a hard day?” I asked, and I went over to her, pushing her hair aside and letting my hands rest on her shoulders. “Hard and very long.” Kaye moaned and tilted her head forward, giving me full access to her neck and shoulders. They were tense and filled with knots, so I started to rub those knots and sore areas out. Another thing the vast majority of women couldn’t resist, in my experience, was a man who would give them a massage.

It was hardly a hardship for me either, not with the soft noises of pleasure and sexy little moans she made. Her skin was warm and smooth under my fingers and I got the satisfaction of feeling her muscles become loose and pliant under my skilled touch. “What did I do to deserve any of this?” Kaye murmured, her voice almost drowsy. Knowing her head was turned away from me, I allowed myself to smirk just a little bit. She really was falling for me, wasn’t she? I was on the right track. “You’re you,” I murmured and placed a chaste kiss on the top of her head. “That’s enough.” Her shoulders relaxed even more and I kept rubbing until she was almost completely limp for me. She pressed toward my hands, wordlessly imploring me not to stop, and I didn’t. Not until dinner was ready, anyway. I carefully rearranged her long, dark hair so it fell down over her back again, a waterfall of black silk. She really did have the most remarkable coloring, with those green eyes and dark hair. Very dramatic and very beautiful. Very easy to fall for. I set the table, letting her sit in her languorous,

sensual mood. It was exactly how I wanted her, after all—relaxed and receptive to what I had to say. When I set the dishes out, I made sure I was sitting beside her instead of across from her, and as we ate, I teased her just a little. Nothing blatant—it was all incredibly subtle—but I knew what I was doing and I did it on purpose. From the beginning, I had known that she found me attractive. Now, I shamelessly used that knowledge, letting my foot rest against hers, my leg close enough to her that I could feel the heat radiating off of her, and my hand lightly stroking over her thigh. At first, she was sleepy and sort of relaxed, but as I kept playing with her, I actually felt her start to warm up under my attentions. She turned to me and her eyes were wide, luminous, brilliant and glistening, her breath hitching just a little bit. I gently wiped at her lips with my napkin, just a little bit playfully. When I kissed her, she tasted of tomatoes and garlic bread and something else— something I simply identified as Kaye. “Thank you for all of this,” she whispered sweetly to me when the kiss finally broke. There was nothing in her eyes but trust and caring. She didn’t suspect me in the slightest.

The tiniest twinge of guilt went through me, but I forced it ruthlessly down. This was going to be more difficult than I had thought—not because she was fighting me on anything, but because she wasn’t. This was far easier than taking candy from a baby, and I made the decision—right or wrong—right then and there. I was going to push any thoughts about the real reason I was doing this from my mind and simply focus on how much I genuinely did want her. “You’re welcome,” I murmured, then cleared my throat. My voice had come out husky and deep, and it was then that I realized that I had been teasing myself as much as I had been her. Maybe even more. “I have something I want to ask you.” I looked right at her, fighting down the most bizarre, unaccountable surge of nerves. It wasn’t like I had much doubt about what she would say, but the nerves were still there. “What is it?” She looked at me curiously, and I realized this was maybe my last chance to back out. Not interested, I thought to myself. I’d worked too hard already to throw this all away and I really wasn’t even sure why I’d thought of stopping this

at all. I still had the same dreams I’d always had—of building Black Tech into something my grandfather would have been proud of. And Kaye, for all of her sweetness, was still standing in the way of what I wanted. “I want to take things to the next level with us,” I admitted, and I let myself get lost in the moment. For just a few seconds, I let the feelings I was having for her come forward, to hopefully make me sound sincerer. For just a moment, there was a flash of wariness in her eyes. I had noticed something about Kaye. Though I had wondered how she could be a virgin at her age, I had learned she was quite cautious, especially when it came to matters of the heart. Which only made her more impressive to me. “What do you mean?” She turned to face me fully, as much as the chair she was perched in would allow. Her voice sounded neutral enough, and though I was very watchful, I didn’t see any sign she wouldn’t be open to what I was about to say. “I mean that I feel things for you, Kaye. I want to see where this goes between us,” I confessed. “I want to make things exclusive between us. I don’t

want to see anyone else. And I don’t want you to, either.” As I was saying the words, I realized that it was true. I had no interest in any other woman, not even sexually. Just Kaye. I let the sincerity show in my words and shine in my eyes. Suddenly, she grinned. Just like that, she flung herself at me and I had her on my lap, with her slender arms around me. She made a delightful armful, to say the very least. “Of course,” she exclaimed, her lips still tilted up in a smile so bright I thought it might blind me. “Of course I want us to be exclusive. I haven’t even looked at another man.” I believed it. I also knew she was going to look— and do much more than look—soon enough. With Brent. The very thought of it made me just a little bit nauseous, but it was, after all, the whole point of all of this. “There’s more,” I warned her, once more pushing down my emotions about the future. It wasn’t the time to be negative. “I want to really take our relationship to the next level.” I paused and waited for her to get it, but she just looked at me, her body hot and beautiful as she

perched on my lap. She really was remarkably innocent, and I couldn’t help but find it thrilling. I was already desperately hard just from our kisses and from the way she so trustingly came into my lap. I hadn’t touched another woman since before I’d set my sights on her, and my own hand was not a substitute for a gorgeous lady. So I pressed my hips up, letting the hardness of my cock press against her ass, letting her feel just how eager I was for her. “I mean sexually,” I clarified, and this was where everything was on the line. She could get offended and push me away, and then I would have to try to figure out how to deal with it. “I care about you a lot, Kaye. I want to show you.” I tried to look sincere and found it much easier than I would have thought. I did want her—that much I’d already known—but there was more to it. I wanted to give her a really amazing first time, the sort of thing she would remember for the rest of her life. Things were going to end badly between us. I already knew that and accepted it. And yet, I wanted her to have absolutely no regrets about her very first time.

“I …” She paused and I had to fight to breathe slowly and evenly—to not let myself get too tense. Whatever she said here, we would be okay. She obviously wasn’t offended, so I could work with it. “I would like that,” she whispered, with a very sexy little flush on her cheeks. Deep down, I had known she would say exactly that, but it was still a relief to hear the words. I didn’t wait. I didn’t give her time to change her mind. Right then and there I stood up, sweeping her into my arms, and carried her to the bedroom. Here is where it all would change. I knew in my heart Kaye would marry me even then. She wasn’t the type of woman to give a man what she’d guarded for so long if she didn’t mean to spend the rest of her life with him. I was close to the prize.

Chapter 9 Kaye It had been less than a month since we’d started dating—since we’d even met, really. Less than a month, and yet when he asked me to go to bed with him, there wasn’t really even a chance of me saying

no. This wasn’t me. It wasn’t who I was. I barely recognized the woman who clung to David as he carried her easily through the mansion. This woman—the one who could own a mansion and be carried so romantically by a gorgeous man—she was a stranger to me. Her life, however, was a lot more exciting than mine was, and I gave myself over. I let her have control. She knew what she wanted, and to be honest, it was the same thing I wanted. I’d held onto my virginity long enough. I could trust David and I knew he would make it amazing for me. It was time. With exquisite gentleness, he put me down on the bed. He took a step back and tugged his shirt off, and for the first time I was afraid. He was so big, so strong, and so masculine. He could hurt me, maybe without even meaning to. For a second or two, the scared girl I had been for so long—the girl who was afraid of letting anyone close to her—that girl almost took over. But then David was there, half naked, beautiful, sweet, and tender as he leaned in and kissed me.

It was soft at first—gentle—as though he knew I needed to be soothed. As he went, he slowly turned up the heat until the kiss seared me right down to my soul and made me quake with need for him. He knew just what I needed, and he soon had me melting into the heat of our kisses. When he slid his hand under my blouse and started to undo the buttons—one by one—I let him. Soon, I was very glad I had. He expertly undid my bra and my breasts tumbled free. His fingers slid over my smooth skin, pausing over my nipples to toy with and tease them. I watched, breathless, as his mouth replaced his fingers. The hardened little nub of my nipple disappeared between his lips and he suckled at it while he pushed my shirt off. Our clothing was falling off, and even the warm air felt cool against my heated skin. After the first surge of nerves had been chased away by his touch, they never came back. He was too good, and arousal spurred me on past any fear I might have felt. I had spent so much time living in my head. He brought me back into my body, made me feel these exquisite sensations, and showed me I had nothing to fear.

So far, everything we’d done together had involved him doing things to me. For the first time I reached out, slipping my hand curiously over his flat stomach, over the ridges of his abs, and down over his hips. His skin was softer than I would have thought and so warm. My fingers tingled as my hand worked its way down over his hipbones, tracing over them before I got brave enough to wrap my fingers around him. So hard. So hot. But smooth and soft, too. He felt like a warm, living steel bar covered in silk. I stroked over the length of him curiously and smiled a little when I heard him make the hottest, most gorgeous gasp of pleasure. I had no idea what I was doing, at least not on a conscious level. His noises, though, taught me quickly. When he slid his fingers between my legs, tracing over my swollen, wet, sensitive folds, it seemed to tap into some sort of instinct, and my grip on him firmed. “I love you,” I admitted, and it was only when I said the words that I realized how very true they were. It was the only reason I was allowing him to do this at all. I never would have let anyone touch me like this if I didn’t love them, and I was about to let him do a lot more.

I could tell he was surprised by those three words, and who could blame him? Everything between us was so new and this was all going so fast, but it didn’t stop those words from being true. It turns out I could fall in love. I had thought perhaps it wasn’t possible for me, but when it was the right person, at the right time, I could definitely do it. Still, it was very quick, and I didn’t expect him to say the words back to me. Even if I just knew I meant something to him, it would be good enough. And I could tell I did just by looking into his eyes. After a few seconds he smiled and nodded, and his free hand—the one not doing amazing things to my clit—reached out as he ran his fingers affectionately over my cheek. “I love you, too,” he whispered. Those words went straight to my heart and made it feel like it was swelling within me. Right then, I knew what it was to feel true, complete happiness. I couldn’t keep the huge smile off of my face. He loved me! “Really?” I breathed, and I felt my body tensing with the sensation I’d only felt a few times before. I was going to have another orgasm, and at least a

part of it was due to the words he’d just spoken to me. “Yes, really,” he murmured as he eased a finger inside of me. It felt good, but it wasn’t quite enough. I knew what I wanted and needed. “And I’m going to make you come until you can’t anymore.” He flicked his finger in the exact right way and I cried out, wrapping my free arm around his strong shoulders. I clung to him as I worked on his member, stroking it, desperate to give him even a fraction of the pleasure he was giving me. Seconds later my whole body was convulsing, shaking with the force of the pleasure that slammed through me, robbing me of my senses, and leaving me breathless and gasping. “That’s just the start,” he murmured, and I got the distinct idea he was enjoying himself. “Just a second, please,” I moaned, trying to pull myself together. The way he touched me, the way he made me orgasm almost without trying, was a bit overwhelming. I needed to catch my breath. “If you want to rest for a second, there’s something I wouldn’t mind you doing,” David said with a small, mischievous smirk on his handsome face.

At first, I didn’t know what he wanted, but I figured it out when he gestured downward. I followed his gaze and blushed a bright red all the way to the tips of my ears. If anyone had told me I would actually want to take a man into my mouth, I would have laughed at them. I had always found the whole idea a little bit gross. But for some reason, when my eyes landed on his thick, hard cock, I found it difficult to look away. “You don’t have to,” he assured me, and I took a deep breath. I wanted to. It was a little scary, but then, all of this was. “Tell me if I do it wrong,” I whispered, then gently pushed him until he was off of me and pressed him onto his back. I started off kissing his lips, which I was fairly used to. I let myself get worked up by the movements of our lips together until it felt like molten lava was running through my veins instead of blood. Soon enough, it seemed natural to start to kiss lower. His body was gorgeous. Utterly stunning. I had never given much thought to how beautiful a man would be naked, but this man drove me wild. I kissed over his chest, licking lightly at his nipples, and headed down over his stomach, tracing with

my lips what I had only touched with my fingers before. “Kaye,” he moaned, and it was more than enough to keep me going. I would do anything to hear him speak to me like he could lose control any second. Lightly, I brushed my lips over the very tip of his cock, then parted them to lick at him. The taste actually made me moan softly—salty and sweet and so very masculine. “Kaye, God, yes,” he whispered, and I felt his fingers clench into my hair—not pulling, just encouraging me. Feeling bolder, I let him in further, taking him inch by inch. The taste and the way he stretched my jaw wide— somehow I couldn’t get enough of it. To my surprise, I enjoyed it, and those noises he kept making—little groans and pleasured whispers— only made it better. I was starting to get into a rhythm, and I was pretty proud of myself. He started leaking more slippery precum into my mouth, and I knew beyond any doubt that he was feeling good—all because of me. Suddenly, he reached down and pulled me away from his erection, making me look up at him worriedly. Had I done it wrong?

One look at him as he tugged me up reassured me. His color was high, his dark eyes alight with arousal, and his lips parted with his hurried breath. No, I realized, I hadn’t done anything wrong. I’d done everything right. “Kaye,” he gasped, as he slowly got himself under control again. I stared at him, realizing I had seen him right at the edge. He’d brought me to orgasm before, but I’d never done the same for him. This was my first time seeing him so close. “I wanted you to finish,” I admitted, and he favored me with a smile. “I will. But I didn’t want to come in your mouth this time,” he murmured. He was aroused enough that everything he said came out sounding sexy as hell. “I need you, Kaye. I need you now.” As he spoke, I became aware of my own need and of how empty I felt. My body knew what it wanted. Maybe this was going to be my first time, but I still knew. The only thing that would satisfy me was him up deep inside me, taking me and making me his. “Now,” I urged as I lay back on the bed, spreading my legs. I must’ve looked terribly wanton, but I didn’t care. Especially not when I saw how he looked at me—

like I was everything he’d ever wanted. He covered me, slipping his tight, hot, muscular body over me, my hardened nipples pressing against his chest. His hips seemed to fit perfectly between mine—like they belonged there. “My Kaye,” he murmured, and then he pushed inside of me. Slowly, carefully, he eased into my hot, tight channel, and I gripped tightly around him. Maybe there was pain. I honestly couldn’t say. The only thing that mattered was that he was finally inside me. When he bottomed out, I clutched him to me and rocked toward his hips, letting the desperation in me take over.

David I had been outright fantasizing about this moment for so long, and part of me, way deep down—a part I didn’t like to consider too much—had wondered if it would ever happen. Gazing down at her, it was still a lot to take in. This beautiful woman, so sweet and caring, was giving herself willingly to me. I knew I could get most women if I put my mind to it. I knew I could do almost anything when I was determined enough.

Part of me, though, had thought Kaye was just too good for me. Out of my league. But she was in love with me. I echoed the words back to her, of course. I wasn’t stupid enough to turn down her devotion, especially when it was exactly what I wanted. It wasn’t like I meant them. Did I? It was sort of hard not to think about loving her when I gazed down at her. She was so gorgeous, and when I slipped inside of her, she clenched around me like she wanted to pull me as deep inside of herself as humanly possible. I’d never been with a virgin before and I’d been a little bit worried I would hurt her when I took her. If she was in pain, though, she wasn’t showing any of it. I sank inside her, and she welcomed me, arms wrapped around me, her wet channel gripping me tightly as her hips rocked up to meet my thrusts. “Kaye,” I whispered, and I started off nice and slow. She had no patience for slow, though, and I felt the slight sting of her nails as she gripped at my shoulders, pulling me closer to her. I felt her long, slender legs lock around my waist like she never wanted to let me go. Each slow

thrust seemed to bring us closer together, and for once, I let myself just go with it. I knew women weren’t to be trusted. I even knew this woman wasn’t to be trusted, and I knew it could lead to heartbreak if I forgot it. But it was so easy to just lose myself in her, in our erotic dance, and for once in my life I decided to just let myself do it. Only it didn’t really feel like a decision. It was more like my heart took over for me and I didn’t try to fight it too much. Buried deep inside of her, nothing else seemed to matter. Each thrust and pump of my hips brought me just a little bit closer to giving in. By the time my orgasm was building, by the time I felt the familiar heat and pleasure as it coiled in my balls and made them clench up, I had forgotten all about why I was doing this at all. “I’m so close,” she panted, and I was glad to hear it. I had a certain amount of pride in my lovemaking and I wasn’t going to be happy with myself if I didn’t give her pleasure too. At the same time, I knew I wouldn’t be able to last very long. “Together,” I rasped, clutching her slender, sweating body close to mine. As sappy as it sounds, I almost felt like the two of us really had become

one person, linked together by body, mind, and soul. Of course, it was all nonsense, and on some level, I knew it. It was a fun fantasy, though, and it made our joining much more intense, which was all for her benefit. If Kaye believed we were really connecting, it would just make it easier for me to continue to reel her in. “David!” her hoarse, sexy little cries of pleasure filled the room. Her cunt, which had already been so tight around me, squeezed me so hard that the pleasure was almost painful. It seemed to draw my release from me, milking me for it, and I growled softly as she convulsed around me. In seconds, I was spilling inside of her, pumping her full of my fluids. Her noises as she clenched rhythmically around me only seemed to draw my orgasm out, taking everything I had to give until I had to fight not to collapse on top of her. Slowly, she unclenched her beautiful body from around me, and I was able to roll off of her and lay beside her instead. Both of us were flushed, practically glowing from the intensity of the pleasure that had rocked through us. I pulled her into my arms without even the slightest thought of protest.

She felt good there. She felt like she belonged there, and when she nuzzled her head into my chest, my heart did a strange little lurch. I suddenly found it much more difficult to breathe—and it had nothing to do with exertion. “David,” she whispered, grinning at me, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling as she gazed at me. “Thank you.” She was thanking me? She had literally just thanked me for taking her virginity. If she only knew just what I had in store for her … “I wanted to talk to you,” Kaye suddenly said, as though she had just made up her mind about something. I arched an eyebrow and glanced down at her, draping my arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to me. Those words had been known to worry even the bravest of men, but after what we had just shared, I didn’t feel like I had much to worry about. So I just smiled at her and nodded. “The money. From your grandfather,” Kaye said abruptly, all of the words rushing out one after the other. “What happened to you wasn’t right.”

I frowned, looking at her thoughtfully. Was she actually going to do the right thing, and without me even needing to marry her and frame her for cheating? I was suddenly much more attentive, though I made sure to keep my body relaxed. I closed my eyes, pretending to be drowsy. In truth, there wasn’t even a hint of sleep in my body. My adrenaline was pumping and my heart pounding, but I didn’t want her to know about those things. Maybe I was about to win this battle without firing a shot, but I didn’t want to assume anything. So I stayed silent, and after a moment, Kaye continued on. “I want to give you half of it.” Half? The one word echoed through my mind, teasing at it. The great and powerful Kaye, from her position of wealth and influence, wanted to take pity on me and give me half of what I actually deserved. No way in hell. Why settle for a few billion when I could have twice that? Besides, I refused to see this settled because of some charity act on Saint Kaye’s part. The money, this house, and all of the cars and the

other properties that my grandfather had worked so hard for—I wasn’t going to give up half of what I was owed just because Kaye said so. “No way.” I let the firmness of my conviction come out in every word I spoke. “I don’t want half of your money, Kaye.” No. I wanted all of it, but I didn’t have to tell her that. I had learned a thing or two about Kaye. I knew she would take most things she was told in the best possible way. She was a bit of an optimist and seemed to trust me, at least. She would think I meant I didn’t want any of the money, I was fairly sure. If I played this off right, it would only draw her closer to me and make her even more clueless to my bad intentions. “Are you sure?” She rolled away from me and tilted her head as she gazed at me. “I won’t be offended if you do want it, you know. It’s a lot of money, but I also think it’s a link to your grandfather. I would hate to keep that from you.” Well then don’t! I didn’t say such a thing, of course, but I did think it. I deserved all of the money and all of the property. Everything. She was just some newcomer who had taken everything I deserved, and if she

really was the sort of person she seemed to be, she would see that. My claim was better than hers—far better. I wasn’t going to be bought off by half measures, damn it. Even if part of me did think I should just take the money, which would mean …what, exactly? I would have no reason to woo her any longer. No reason to marry her. For some reason, those thoughts bothered me. The only reason I was allowing myself to marry her at all was because of this money. No. It was just a bad idea all around. She was my enemy, as unfortunate as it was. I didn’t love her. I hated her for being given what I should have gotten all along. Logically, of course, I knew it wasn’t her fault. My grandfather had made the choice, and it was really too bad Kaye had to suffer for it. But there was just no way I was going to accept the hand I’d been dealt. “I’m sure. It’s not about the money,” I commented, and it really wasn’t. It was about what was right, and maybe sex had muddled my mind a bit, but now it was over. I still knew what the fair thing was, even if she didn’t.

The money was useful and it would help, but really, this was about righting a grievous wrong. “Okay,” she said, and she smiled at me in a way that made my battered heart give a lurch in my chest. How did she keep doing these sorts of things to me? “I thought …I thought it was right to offer.” “Thank you,” I replied, then folded her up in my arms again. I meant it, at least a little bit. She had no reason to think she needed to offer me anything, much less such a huge sum of money. She really did think it was the right thing to do, and it was really just too bad. Fate, or whatever, had put us on opposite sides. Maybe she didn’t know it, but I did. In another world, would we have had a chance? Stupid thoughts. Pointless. I pushed them aside and focused on what mattered. Kaye was mine. I should wait a few months, maybe, so I didn’t scare her off, but I knew her fate was inevitable. She had given herself to me, body, heart, and soul, and all I needed to do now was be just a little bit more patient. “I love you,” Kaye whispered, just on the brink of sleep. This time, at least, I didn’t have to say it back.

Chapter 10 Kaye I smiled to myself as I checked my makeup once more, running my fingers over the smooth satin of my brand-new dress. The jade green matched my eyes exactly and I had to admit, even just to myself, that I looked good. It had been three months, to the day, since David and I had shared our very first night together. Three months since I had given myself to him completely, and I hadn’t regretted it for a single moment. I had never dreamed that a man could be so attentive, so sexy, and so amazing in bed. David was the full package, and sometimes I found myself with the distinct urge to pinch my arm, just to make sure this whole thing wasn’t some sort of romantic dream. If it was, though, I wasn’t sure I wanted to wake up from it. David was taking me out and he’d told me I should dress up nicely for it. I actually appreciated how he warned me ahead of time, since I hadn’t always gone to very nice restaurants and was still somewhat out of my league.

I heard his car driving up and I gave myself one more look over from head to toe. No one looking at me would think I didn’t belong there, no matter where there was. I giggled at myself, utterly blissful. When this crazy ride was going to end—or how—I had no idea, but I did know I was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

THE RESTAURANT WAS STILL GORGEOUS. David had taken me back to the trendy, adorable little place where we’d had our first date, and I loved it just as much as I had back then. Once more, he pulled me into his arms, just like that first night, and we swayed to slow jazz together, so close I could feel his heart. It was beating fast for some reason, and though he seemed as calm as ever—just as pulled together and controlled—I could almost swear he was nervous. When the song was over he pulled me back to the table, but instead of holding out my chair for me like the perfect gentleman he always was, he dropped to his knees in front of me and took one of my hands in his. Maybe it sounds stupid, but at first, I didn’t know

what he was doing. I figured he had just fallen or dropped something, and I started looking around to see if I could spot anything. “What’s wrong?” I asked, and only looked back at him when he tugged my hand to get my attention. For some reason, he wore a rather pained, if amused, expression on his face. “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” he asked, and I shook my head. I still didn’t get it, as ridiculous as it sounds. It never even occurred to me what could be happening. “Kaye James,” David said, his tone oddly formal, even though he still had the familiar glint of mischief in his eye. Of course he did—he nearly always did. “What?” I asked somewhat stupidly, while a slight smirk tugged at the corners of his luscious lips. “Will you marry me?” As he spoke, he slid a small black box out of his pocket, opening it up to reveal a ring with a single diamond on it that was almost as big as a golf ball. Okay, so I’m exaggerating a little, but it almost felt like it. “Oh my God,” I whispered. It had been, what, four months since I’d even first laid eyes on this guy? Something close to that, anyway. I stared down at

the ring, which sparkled, sending refracted candlelight around in a shower of rainbow sparks. He rose to his feet, still holding the box, then guided me into my seat. I sat and was glad for it, since my legs seemed more wobbly than usual. I dropped down gratefully and then turned to him, looking at him almost imploringly. He couldn’t be serious. “Before you answer, I need to talk to you about something.” He shot me a charming wink as he settled down in his seat as well. He placed the ring on the table between us, and I felt my eyes drawn back to it, over and over again. It was beautiful, no doubt about it. “If you say yes, I want to talk about prenups. I know you’re a wealthy woman now,” he pointed out, and I winced. It still felt strange to me, but it was true. “And I’m not exactly headed to the poorhouse myself. I think we both need to protect ourselves.” I took a deep breath and found it faintly fantastic that I was even considering his proposal enough to be having this discussion. Why hadn’t I just told him no? It was far too soon, and yet … I loved him.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, and he smiled at me approvingly. “It’s pretty simple. What I think we should do is have everything we own belong to us jointly. If we, God forbid, get a divorce, everything would go to the injured party.” I frowned a little. We weren’t even married yet, and he was already talking divorce? And, yet, in some way, I found it comforting. He was being practical, and as much as he had made me feel like I was lost in some romantic dream, I was—at my very core—a practical person. “So the other person would get nothing,” I mused. “Yes, that’s right. I think of it as a bit of a safety net,” he admitted. “For the marriage—to make sure it lasts. I don’t think I could handle losing you. This will encourage us to do the right thing—both of us —no matter what temptations come our way. Those temptations will definitely happen, but I want us to last through all of them.” I frowned, looking down, but not at the ring. Honestly, I wasn’t seeing much of anything, lost as I was in my own thoughts. At first, it was difficult to get past the panic, but he gave me time to think and it definitely helped.

“I’d need that security if we marry,” David said, and I nodded. It made sense to me, actually, and I was sort of glad he felt the same way. It was better to be careful—to have everything set up so we would have the greatest chance of success. As I looked at him, I realized he was exactly the sort of man I would marry. The only man I would consider. What he was asking for really wasn’t much of a big deal, anyway. I knew myself well enough to be very sure of one thing: I would not be the one to end our marriage. This commitment would be for life, at least for me. There was absolutely no risk at all—not to me. I would never want out of this marriage. I’d always been the type who was slow to make commitments, but once I’d made them, they were ironclad. “I’ll sign it,” I murmured, gazing at him. No wonder he’d looked so nervous. I’d been silent, thinking about it, and I could feel him getting more and more anxious as I did. To his credit, though, he didn’t try to push me. He let me think it out. There were so many reasons I loved him and this was one more. He was perfect for me. I’d never believed in soul mates, but with him I almost could.

“Really?” he asked, a smile spreading over his handsome face and making him look younger than he was. He acted so maturely and worldly most of the time, but I could tell I had sincerely made him happy by accepting his proposal. “Yes,” I agreed. “I’ll marry you, and I have no problem signing a prenuptial agreement.” “Yes,” he echoed me. “She said yes!” The people around us clapped, as they’d been listening in. A blush covered my cheeks. I would marry David and I would bring the prenup to a lawyer—just to be safe—I decided. But the simple fact was, I was in love. It was completely crazy, but I did want to marry this man. I wanted to belong to him. “Mrs. Kaye Black,” I murmured, then grinned at him. Elation bubbled inside of me and I held out my left hand, offering it to him. “I like the sound of it.” “So do I.” David picked up the ring and slid it onto my ring finger. The band fit like it had been designed for me. I admired my hand, then turned a quizzical look on my new fiancé. Fiancé! It seemed incredible, but it was true. What I’d done to deserve this amazing man, I had no idea, but it

must have been something amazing. Maybe I’d been a saint or something in a previous life. He gave me a rakish grin and slid another ring out of his pocket, slipping it over the table toward me. I recognized it as one of mine, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “You stole one of my rings,” I scolded, but I found it funny and quite touching, actually. He’d wanted to make sure the ring he bought me was the right size and he’d pulled off the plan without a hitch. “I hope you don’t mind.” He grinned at me. I couldn’t say I minded. It was pretty sweet. He’d gone to a lot of trouble. I hadn’t even noticed him taking the ring. “I think I’m going to have to keep my eye on you,” I commented, but the stern tone of my voice was undermined by the grin on my face. I couldn’t wipe it off, no matter how hard I tried. Though it had to be said, I wasn’t trying particularly hard. “Yep,” he grinned, unrepentant. I laughed softly and my whole body throbbed with emotion, soft and wonderful, like floating on a sea of perfect contentment. The ring on my finger

sparkled, the gold quickly warming until it felt like I had always worn it. “It suits you,” he commented and I smiled a little. I didn’t think of myself as the sort of woman who could wear enormous diamond rings, but when I was with him, I felt like a different person. A stronger, braver, bolder person. The sort of person who would fall in love and get engaged in the course of only a quarter of a year. Somehow, I didn’t regret my decision. Not when I looked across the table and saw David looking at me with complete devotion. Somehow, against all reason, it was the right choice. After all, I’d fallen in love, and it seemed I was the sort of person who gave my whole heart when I gave it at all. This was the start of our life together. I’d already been committed to him and this just made it official. “I love you, David Black,” I whispered. He beamed back at me. “I love you too, baby.” I was going to marry this man. If I had ever been so happy in my whole life, I couldn’t remember it.

David Kaye wanted to wait a little bit before getting married, but obviously, I wasn’t going to be able to give her the long engagement she wanted. I needed to get her tied to me before she thought better of it, so I pushed for a quicker wedding. A couple of months. I was willing to wait only so long—long enough for the arrangements to be made. Long enough for her dress to be ordered. She gave in pretty easily, and I couldn’t help but find it flattering. She really did want to be married to me. Of course, the whole point of me courting her and wooing her had been to make her want it so badly she ignored good sense, but it was actually really happening. I loved watching a plan come together. Really, I did. Otherwise, there was no way in hell I would be getting married. It wasn’t something I had ever wanted to do, and if not for this act, I never would have considered it. As it was, it suited me to play the devoted fiancé, at least for now. She had invited me to move in with her, which had just annoyed me even more. It wasn’t fair or right. She was inviting me to move into the house that should have been mine—which would have been mine if not for her.

It sat wrong with me. I’d had to accept her offer graciously, and then I prepared myself for a couple of months of torment. To my surprise, she was a good roommate—a fun person to live with. She wasn’t clingy. She willingly gave me my own space and didn’t try to take up all of my time, but was always glad to see me when we did interact. Not to mention the sex. God, the sex. It had started off incredible and had only gotten better as she got practice. I wasn’t getting cold feet about the plan or anything. It was just because I enjoyed living with her more than I would have thought. No real big deal. I wasn’t going to change my mind. Even if I did enjoy her company. There was no rule against liking her. I just had to watch it and not let myself go too far with it. If I were careful, it would be fine. It would just make the whole thing more realistic. “We need to send out invitations,” I pointed out. It wasn’t the first time I’d said something about it, but for some reason she didn’t seem very excited about the idea. I’d gone into this whole wedding deal expecting her to go over the top. You had to spend

money to make money, after all. She wanted a small wedding. Thirty people max, she had told me emphatically. I was more than happy to go along with it. I couldn’t think of many people I would want at my wedding, especially since it was the next thing to fake. It was nothing but a means to an end. Of course, I hardly wanted that particular knowledge to become common. I knew, and Brent did too, but no one else. It was better to leave it like that. Two people could barely keep a secret. Any more and it was practically begging to get out. “I suppose we do,” she murmured, and I was struck again by how unwilling she seemed to be. Not about the wedding, exactly, but about this particular part of getting ready for it. “Who do you want to invite?” I probed, wrapping a comforting arm around her. To my surprise, her shoulders were quite tense and she wouldn’t meet my eyes, though she had been open and friendly before I’d brought it up. We were lying in bed, getting ready to go to sleep. Like a lot of couples, we did a lot of our talking then. We weren’t really a couple, of course, but it was still surprisingly comfortable to act like one this way.

A comforting illusion. Maybe I would have been a bit more withdrawn from her if the situation had been different. As it was, I wanted to give her no doubt about marrying me. “Joan. Angela.” Kaye was very quick to give those answers, and I arched an eyebrow. It was a bit odd for her to go there first. I knew who Joan and Angela were. They were her best friends from work. Was it normal for people to think of their friends before their family? I had no idea. I’d never done this before. “What about your parents? Or do you have any siblings?” I didn’t really know much about her family at all. Awareness dawned on me as I realized how strange it was. I’d never even met her family, even after she and I had become engaged. In retrospect, it was fairly bizarre. I would have expected to be dragged off to meet them, to get their blessing. “No siblings.” Kaye looked at me, her eyes and voice hesitant. “I promised Joan I’d think about talking to you about all of this, but I guess I put it out of my mind.” Well, now. As far as mysterious statements went,

that one was pretty impressive. I turned to her, arching my eyebrow, waiting for some clarification. “I think Joan is right,” I stated firmly, though it wasn’t a statement I would expect to make. I had met Joan, and I got a sense she didn’t like me very much. She was always perfectly polite, and so was I, but there was some sort of tension there. “You should tell me.” When Kaye did finally speak, after a few minutes of pulling herself together, her voice was almost too quiet to hear. “I don’t have any family.” She paused again, and I considered asking for more details, but something told me to shut up and let her tell it her way. She would, I was pretty sure. So I held my tongue and waited, my arm around her, and my fingers stroking lightly over her smooth, bare shoulder. “My mom and dad, they were in a car accident when I was fifteen,” she finally whispered. I had to lean in a little bit to hear her at all, but she was speaking and I didn’t want to interrupt her to ask her to speak up. This was obviously difficult for her to talk about. I would let her do it on her own terms, but I struggled to be patient. “I lost them. They both …died.” I could tell this wasn’t something Kaye talked about much, or at

all. There was as much pain in her voice as there would have been if they’d died just a few weeks ago, even though it had been a decade. I ran my fingers over the back of her hand. “I understand.” God, did I ever. “I spent the next few years in foster homes. They kept shuffling me around.” Kaye still spoke softly, but there was more passion in her voice. This had been a hard time for her and she didn’t need to say it for me to know it. How could it not be a tough time for anyone? “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked when it became clear she wasn’t going to say any more. I pressed a kiss against her temple, trying to justify it to myself. Offering genuine comfort would only complicate the plan. And then I quit even trying and just let it be me reaching out to someone else who was suffering. Someone who had suffered the exact same thing I had. “I don’t tell people about it very much,” she responded, and I frowned a little bit. I heard what she said, but I also heard the words she didn’t say. I heard them because they were the same words I

would say if only to myself. I don’t talk about it much because it hurts. We both knew it. Only those who had lost a parent so young could understand. She’d been younger than me, by a few years. She’d been alone and in foster care, and she must have been terrified. It had been bad enough for me, and I’d been in a cushy boarding school. Still, I had some idea of how she must feel. More than your average person did, anyway. “We’re the same,” I realized. I hadn’t even known I was speaking out loud, not until I saw her react to my words. “You and I. We both don’t have anyone.” She gave me the sweetest smile, and I felt my heart clench in my chest. She wouldn’t look at me so affectionately if she knew what I was up to. Nor did I think I deserved the look she gave me. I knew why I was doing what I was doing and nothing had changed. I still wanted what was mine. For the first time, though, I found myself very strongly wishing there was some other way I could get it. If only I could get what was owed to me without hurting her …

It would hurt her. I knew it. Part of this plan was for her to fall hopelessly in love with me, and I knew she had done that. She was completely devoted, and when we got divorced, it was going to break her heart. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe she’d fall just as hard for Brent. Only he would break her heart, too, because he wasn’t any more interested in being with her than I was. Kaye had been hurt so much. Maybe even more than I had been. She would end up with nothing and no one, whereas I would at least end up with piles and piles of money. Her heart was going to be trampled on. Of course, mine already had been. responsibility did I have toward her? But she had no one. Only a few close friends.

What

It was just a little bit too close to my own situation for me to feel entirely good about it. “We’re the same,” she acknowledged, still giving me the same almost unbearably sweet, patient, loving smile. She really had it perfected, and I tried to think cynically about how it was all an act—how no one could be as amazing, as saint-like as she was. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and I meant it on so many different levels, though I knew she wouldn’t understand most of them. “It’s okay,” she said, clearly misunderstanding what I meant, which was really for the best. “It’s okay because we’ll have each other now. We’ll have a family. The one we’ll start on our wedding day. You and me.” Damned if, for half a second at least, it sounded like a good deal to me. Damned if I didn’t want it. Of course, I came to my senses soon enough and pushed aside the unfamiliar feeling. Even then, though, I had to admit something, even just to myself. I was spending an awful lot of time pushing down my feelings for her. It was just so damn rare to find someone who understood where I was coming from.

Chapter 11 Kaye This was going to be the best day of my life. It sounds like such a cliché, but I knew it was true. It would be the best day imaginable, a magical day, because today was the day I married the one and only man I had ever loved. Today was the day I made him mine and gave him myself in return— forever and ever, ‘til death do us part. I wore a dress that made me feel like a fairy tale princess. Cinderella or Snow White had nothing on me. It was silly and I knew it, but I felt elegant and beautiful in the white silk dress with the skirt that went on for days. The corset hugged my waist and pushed my breasts up, emphasizing everything feminine about me. Not only did I look beautiful, but I felt it, deep down in my very core. My hair was a silken waterfall down my back and my makeup, which Joan had done for me, was flawless. I had never felt so desirable in my life. Though part of it might have been the way David looked at me. It was easy to think of myself as someone who was precious and desirable when the

look in his eyes spoke of affection, love, and desperate want. “Will you, David, promise to love, honor, and cherish this woman as long as you both shall live?” the minister intoned, and I beamed at David, holding both of his hands in mind. The black tuxedo David wore flattered his handsome features—his strong chin, his chiseled lips, and his eyes that looked at me with such adoration. “I will,” David replied, his voice sure and strong, not a hint of hesitation in it. “And will you, Kaye, promise to love, honor, and cherish this man as long as you both shall live?” the minister continued, shooting me a tiny bit of a look. He’d wanted me to go with the more traditional “love, honor, and obey,” but I had balked. I would love David, and I would certainly cherish him, but to promise to obey without question? I didn’t have it in me, and luckily, David hadn’t seemed to mind the substitution. He smiled at me, and he really seemed like he couldn’t be any prouder of me or any happier to have me. “I will.” My heart was in my voice as I said the words and I knew all of my friends, and all of his, would know I meant it.

It was exactly what I wanted. I smiled at my husband, and he smiled back.

David I was going to strangle Brent. He was enjoying this whole thing just a little bit too much, to my way of thinking. Laughing, dancing like a maniac, and holding the woman who was now my wife by law. I wanted to grab him and whisper fiercely in his ear a reminder about just what this whole thing was. Brent wasn’t supposed to actually be enjoying this. It was a job—nothing more. So why were his green eyes alight when he looked at my wife? Brent in full hunting mode was something I’d seen before, of course. I’d been his wingman, just like he’d been mine. I knew how he could get, which was why I’d known he was perfect for this particular job. But I didn’t think he’d be enjoying it so damn much As I stood there I had to remind myself more than once just what was going on here. Brent didn’t actually like Kaye. He was just doing this as my friend, so we could both become much wealthier men. He was doing his job and he was doing it damn well.

What did it matter? I should be happy about him doing it so well. The way she laughed …the way he flung her beautiful body around in an exuberant dance …I’d never seen her giggle for me the way she was for him. Instead, what really made me happy had nothing to do with his performance at all. It had far more to do with how she kept looking back at me like she couldn’t stand to be parted from me. She always turned back to Brent, but she couldn’t look at him long before coming back to me. It would be better if she fell for him now, of course. A lot easier. Still, it made me happy, somehow, to know she was still so devoted to me. As far as women went, she was definitely the most faithful I had ever known. Which could be a challenge, I reminded myself. I wasn’t here to fall for her, and I hadn’t. I was only here to get what was mine. For some reason, I had a hard time remembering the plan sometimes. I’d always been a little bit possessive, though I’d never allowed myself to get too serious with anyone. I’d always been able to fight those feelings off, and this situation was exactly the same, I told myself firmly. Kaye wasn’t special. Still, there was an undeniable lightening in my heart

when the song ended and Kaye pulled away from Brent with a laugh. The way Brent’s eyes lingered over the shape of her back as she turned to walk away made me want to punch him in the throat. He didn’t have to undress her with his eyes, did he? The plan didn’t call for him to check her out quite as much as he was doing. I fought back a growl, but pasted a smile on my face as Kaye walked up to me. She was glowing. Radiant. I’d always thought the whole thing about radiant brides was a load of crap, but she really was. “Your turn, husband,” she said fondly, reaching out her hand to take mine and tugging me gently onto the floor. I went with her, more than eager to take her slender body into my arms once more. It was a slow song, which suited me. When she’d gone to dance with Brent, it had been a fast, fun number. He hadn’t gotten to hold her tightly in his arms as I did or sway with her. At least, he didn’t get to do it yet. “Did you like Brent?” I carefully kept my voice curious and light. I didn’t let her see the jealousy I felt. Or the guilt. I tried to deny both of them, but they were both there.

“Yes, I did,” Kaye said, and I tried to tell myself I was happy about it. It was, after all, good news for my plan. I had the strangest urge to strangle Brent though. I knew it was unfair, but it was still there. “So what’s this I hear about you spending more time with me?” Kaye asked me, and I pulled her close to hide a smirk. I’d almost forgotten about that particular part of the plan. “What do you mean?” I asked, playing dumb. “Brent said you’re going to be working from home,” Kaye commented, and it touched me more than I would have liked to see the pleasure in her face when she spoke. She really did like spending time with me. I didn’t really understand why, but it was obvious she did. “What? Damn it, Brent,” I put on my best aggravated tone, as though irritated with my best friend. I wanted her to think me and Brent didn’t tell each other absolutely everything, so she’d feel safe cheating on me when the time came. “It was supposed to be a surprise. He shouldn’t have told you.” “Shh, it’s okay,” Kaye soothed me as her breasts, displayed in all their perfect roundness by her

dress, pressed against my chest. Having her hot body squeezed up so close to mine could get me hard far too easily. I could swear she was doing it on purpose. Not from her, though. Kaye wasn’t the type of woman to tease. The whole concept of a woman who wouldn’t tease was a little bit new to me. What you saw was what you got with Kaye, though it had taken me awhile to be able to really get that. The more I got to know her, the less convinced I was that she had tricked my grandfather into signing his fortune over to her. But whether she had played a role in it or not, that money should belong to me. If it was getting harder for me to remind myself of that, well, I just pushed those thoughts aside too. I let myself be soothed, smiling down into Kaye’s lovely face with one hand on the small of her back and the other raising up to lightly run over her cheek. “Brent is my best friend,” I admitted. “He’ll be around a lot. I hope you’re okay with that. I wanted to spend time with you at home, but I’m still needed to make decisions. Brent will go between our house and the office so I can stay with you.” “Oh, yes, of course. That’s fine.” Kaye smiled

understandingly at me, and I felt my stomach squeeze uncomfortably. “I know why you’d want to have him around. He’s a lot of fun. He said he’s your ‘numbers guy?’” Damn it. If only she could have a hint of meanness to her. If only she could be less understanding. It would be a lot easier to do all the terrible things I had planned if she were less …wonderful. It was the exact right word. Wonderful. Sweet. Patient. Understanding. Loving. Affectionate. Okay, so there were quite a few words to describe her. Like trusting. Maybe too trusting. This plan was like shooting fish in a barrel. It didn’t even seem fair. The money-grubbing gold digger that I had been expecting I could have shamelessly used, but Kaye wasn’t like that. I had to pull my mind away from the direction my thoughts were heading and get back to our conversation. “He is. I count on him. I hope you two get along.” I smiled at her as we swayed together, and her body moving against mine brought up little flickering embers of arousal. Those embers could be fanned to full flame with the slightest bit of effort on her part. How could anyone be this amazing? I honestly didn’t understand. In my entire life, I couldn’t

remember ever meeting anyone as sweet as she was. Not to mention that she was sexy too. Far too sexy for my peace of mind. I liked her so much. I wasn’t expecting it, but I did. It was actually kind of a problem. Having her in my arms was like heaven on earth, and I couldn’t get enough of it. “I think we will. He seems like a nice guy.” Kaye smiled up at me, and I felt my heart give another one of those pathetic little lurches in my chest. I couldn’t let her get to me like this, but she seemed to do it without even trying. She was like a saint. A saint should be much more boring than she was, though. Still, she had this sense of innocence, even now. She’d given herself to me completely, and yet she still had a sort of naive aura about her, despite her obvious competence. It was like she knew the world, she knew how horrible it could be, and yet she had retained a sort of innate goodness. Or was I romanticizing her too much? Maybe I was just letting the emotions of the day get the better of me—it was our wedding after all, no matter how much of a sham I knew this marriage to be. If she really was as good as I was making her out to be, there was no way she would

ever cheat on me. So I would just have to make it irresistible for her to do so. It was going to take a tiny bit more work than I had originally thought, but I was up to the challenge. By the way Brent was following us with his eyes, he was too. Maybe just a little bit too much. As I met his eyes, I saw him scan over the length of her body from head to toe. Normally, it wouldn’t bug me. I saw him do it all the time. It was really nothing more than his way of checking out a beautiful woman, and I had to remind myself to keep my irritation under control. It was just Brent being Brent. There was a reason he’d been the one I’d picked to do this job and to plan with me. Poor Kaye didn’t deserve this, though. Not any of it. The more I tried to push the thought away, the more it kept sneaking back into my mind. I had gotten to know her, and it made it much more difficult to use her as I was planning to do. If I were really a good guy, I knew I would back off. I would have backed off before we’d ever gotten married. But it was a bit too late for me to do the right thing and I was a little bit trapped now.

Nothing I wanted had changed, anyway. We danced together, and I kept on fighting down helpless arousal as she swayed in my arms. I couldn’t wait until later, when I would strip off every layer of the fancy, white wedding dress she wore and see the lush body that was hidden within. Maybe it would make me feel better if she wasn’t quite as much of the saint as she usually was. If I could prove to her—and more importantly, to myself—that she could be just as much of a sinner as anyone, maybe I could get rid of some of this guilt before it completely overwhelmed me. Just how far would my new bride go to make her husband happy? I had no idea, but I thought it might be fun to test it out. Besides, with what I had in mind, it would probably just push Brent and Kaye together even quicker. Yes. From saint to sinner. The idea appealed to me. Poor Kaye was never going to know what hit her, not by the time I was done with her. I had some particular tastes that my sweet, pretty young wife didn’t know about just yet. But she would, and once she did … My cock was suddenly at full attention. She couldn’t feel it through the layers of her skirt,

though, so I let myself get hard. I even let myself grind against her a little bit. This was going to be fun.

Part Three

Chapter 12 Kaye Our honeymoon was utterly magical. We took a cruise to Hawaii and spent every day relaxing in the sun and every night tangled up in each other, soaking our sheets. It was bliss. It was difficult going right back to work once we were home. David didn’t see any reason for me to rush right back, and I had so much vacation time built up that my boss was quite eager for me to use. So I did. About three weeks after our wedding, one week after our honeymoon, I sat in bed watching Netflix on my phone, feeling a little luxurious and very out of my element. I wasn’t used to doing so little, and even though I still had another whole

week until I had to go back to work, I was seriously considering going back early just to keep myself sane. My amazing new husband wasn’t around and I was bored. I knew his business was important to him, and I wanted to do anything I could to support him, but there were a lot of idle hours while he was working. It just wasn’t something I was used to. I heard footsteps coming down the hallway and sat up straighter, grinning. There was only one person it could be, and when my husband came in, I couldn’t help but melt inside, my whole body yearning for him. How was he so gorgeous? So utterly perfect? Even after close to a month of marriage, I still wanted him all the time. “David,” I murmured. While my eyes scanned hungrily down his body, I noticed he carried a bag. “Is it another present for me?” He liked buying me presents. Not really a terrible problem for me to have, but I didn’t want him to think he had to or anything. They were all thoughtful and sometimes extravagant, but all things I genuinely loved. “In a way,” he murmured, and his eyes were alight

with something like mischief, but also arousal. He looked somehow like an animal on the hunt—a predator— his eyes fixed on me as though he might just devour me. It was incredibly hot and I shifted in bed, feeling myself getting slick between my thighs. It took so little for him to get me going, it really wasn’t even fair. I’d gone my whole life, right up until I had met him, without feeling this overpowering, overwhelming desire. Slowly, he pulled something out of his bag. I squinted at it, trying to see what it was. Definitely black and leather, but beyond that … He held it up and I saw it fully then. It was a corset. It was followed up by a pair of fishnet stockings, and then he handed me a box with sexy, black stiletto heels inside. “What?” I asked somewhat stupidly. I was fairly certain I had never seen those sorts of things in real life, but I wasn’t naive enough not to know what they were. I shifted and my thighs slid over each other, already slick with desire. He smirked, and at first he didn’t answer me. At least not with words. Instead, he reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out what was unmistakably a leather collar, black like the corset, and a chain

leash to attach to it. I stared, trying to figure out why my breathing was suddenly so fast. It didn’t feel like nerves or fear. It felt like lust—even more powerful than what I’d felt with him before, which was saying something, “David?” I asked, and I couldn’t raise my eyes away from the silvery chain in his hands. It called to me. I was inexplicably drawn to it, and before I knew it, I was actually moving over the bed to get closer to it. To get closer to him. “I have a secret,” David announced, with this little grin on his face. “I’m a member of a club.” I waited. Surely the secret wasn’t something so … unsurprising. Of course he was a member of a club. He had grown up wealthy. He was probably a member of many more clubs than I could even conceive of. “A very exclusive, private “Kaye, I couldn’t tell you were married. I didn’t feel now you’re my wife, and I everything I do.”

club,” he continued. about this before we safe revealing it. But want you to share in

Well, it sounded good to me. I forced my eyes from the chain and collar and up to him as he laid the black corset and stockings on the bed. His eyes

were focused on his task, and I took a second to just admire him. My gorgeous husband, who was maybe just a little bit nervous in that moment. Well, so was I, but I didn’t want him to think he had anything to fear from me. I was becoming more and more certain of one simple fact. There was not a thing on the planet that he could do that would make me fall out of love with him. “You’re safe now,” I assured him. “Tell me.” “You can probably guess by the clothes,” he gestured to them. “But I’m into BDSM. Remember how I said I want to share everything with you? Well, this too.” I took a deep breath, struggling with some pretty significant conflicting emotions. On the one hand, this was all so incredibly new to me and it was a bit overwhelming to look at those clothes, obviously hand picked for me. On the other, it was exciting. Deeply exciting. What did he want from me? It was a good question, and one that I found myself fairly eager to find out the answer to. Whatever he wanted, he could have. I couldn’t think of much I would deny him. “Share it with me?” I wondered if he wanted to get

a little bit kinky in the bedroom. Maybe tie me up. It wasn’t the sort of thing I had ever done before, of course, but I would be willing to try. “I want you to put on the clothes,” he said, and he somehow seemed to stand up taller and straighter. His voice deepened and became more dominant somehow. It sent little tingles of apprehension and lust through my body. I was way out of my depth and I knew it. “And then we’re going out to that club I mentioned.” When he continued, there was no hint of hesitation in his voice. He wasn’t asking me, he was telling me, and his high handedness made me whimper softly to myself, hopefully too quietly for him to hear. A man who would take control. It wasn’t something I’d thought I would want, but I couldn’t deny that I loved it. I could swear I had never been this aroused in my entire life. “What are we going to do there?” I asked, accepting all of this without question. We were going because I would go up into the sky and bring David the moon if I could. If he wanted it, I would at least put in a good effort. “This time, I just want you to watch,” David murmured, and he reached out, pulling me to my

feet, and started undressing me. I was more than eager for it, and I put up no resistance as he stripped off the comfortable pajamas I had been wearing. “I want to watch it with you.” I nodded slowly. There couldn’t be any harm in watching, right? Maybe the whole thing would weird me out, but I figured I could handle just about anything for one night. “Okay,” I agreed. He pushed the corset into my hands, along with a black thong that I hadn’t noticed until then. I pulled the underwear on, blushing when I realized just how little it covered. “Brent’s going to be there too,” he commented casually. “We’re going to watch it with him.” Wait, what? Now Brent was involved? I barely knew the guy, even if he did seem very nice. So Brent was into this whole kinky thing too, was he? I shook my head. I’d had no idea about either of them. None at all. “Okay,” I murmured, just a little bit more slowly. Hesitantly. I didn’t mind sharing something like this with my husband, at least to try it out, but to share it with a relative stranger? “We’re just going to be watching other people

playing out BDSM scenes,” he assured me. “No one will touch you.” It was a relief, but it didn’t last too long. He didn’t stop talking, but continued on, and what he said made me more than a little bit nervous. “Not this time, anyway.” I took a deep breath, looking at him uncertainly. As we stood there, he took the corset, slipping it on around my body. It was tiny, barely covering me, and didn’t even have straps to hold it on. It simply clung to me, stiff and rigid, and forced my breasts up like they were being displayed. “What do you mean by that?” I asked, looking at my husband. I trusted him, I reminded myself, but I couldn’t help but think about how we had really not known each other for very long. I had assumed certain things about this marriage, but maybe I was wrong. “Later on, I’d want us all to play out a scene. The two of us—Brent and I—on you.” The words, once they were out, didn’t sound as terrible as I would have expected. Once they were all out there in black and white, I found the whole idea to be exciting, even if deeply shocking to someone as inexperienced as I was. He pushed me by the shoulders, and I sat down on

the bed, letting him do what he wanted with my body. But all he did was put my new shoes on— black pumps with a heel far higher than I usually would have worn. “Come, look at yourself in the mirror,” he coaxed and took both of my hands to bring me to the shiny, reflective, silver surface. I went, feeling a bit strange, and the feeling increased when I saw how I looked. “Oh my God,” I whispered. The woman reflected back at me was beautiful, with a tiny waist, long, long legs, and breasts big enough to make any man drool. My hair fell loose over my shoulders and down my back. I looked gorgeous. Delicate. Sexy. All the things I wasn’t used to. “Just come watch,” he murmured, his hand resting possessively on the curve of my slender waist. The smell of leather was all around us, especially as my body heat warmed up the corset. I felt dizzy, my cunt throbbing and wet. “And we’ll go from there.” He wanted this so badly, and so did I. Even if I hadn’t been feeling this sense of anticipation, I figured I would’ve tried it anyway, for him. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted it more than anything else in the world.

So I nodded and watched as the young woman in the mirror nodded too. She gave me a secret little smile, and I knew I’d made the right call. What exactly a BDSM scene would look like, I had no idea, but I was definitely willing to find out.

David The Dungeon of Decorum was a little hidden gem on the outskirts of Portland. What looked like a small shack above ground was really an underground lair of sexual activity—along with some other fun things—that did a lot for the male ego. I hadn’t been lying to Kaye about my interest in BDSM. I had been a member of this club ever since I was old enough to sign up and most of the men I worked with were the same way. It was a club that catered to exclusive tastes and the people who came here got what they wanted. Whatever they wanted. As long as it was all safe and consensual, of course. No one would get seriously injured here. I hadn’t been highly involved in the scene—just enough to know it interested me—but my whole life had been focused on getting my business up

and running. I hadn’t exactly had a lot of time to pursue this interest. On the other hand, it had made perfect sense when Brent had suggested using the club in order to get to Kaye— and in order to get her to start seeing him as a more sexual person. I knew Brent was far more into this lifestyle than I’d ever been and his dominant side should impress her. The club was not open to the public. There were no signs. If you didn’t know what it was, you weren’t supposed to be there, and I had always liked the privacy when I did play. Brent was already there, waiting just outside the entrance. He grinned at me in greeting, and I returned the expression with a nod. It felt so wrong, suddenly, being friends with the man who was after my wife. But it was the about the plan, damn it. Why did I have such a hard time keeping it in mind sometimes? We were all very quiet, especially Kaye. Brent didn’t seem nervous at all, but even if he had been, he wouldn’t have shown it. I was. I would admit it, though only to myself. I was nervous because I thought I just might be

pushing her too far, too fast. Kaye had obviously never done anything like this before, and I thought there was a chance, however slight … I shook my head. I wasn’t going to lose her, at least not until I was ready. She was utterly devoted to me. And when she took off the coat that had hidden her gorgeous, corset-clad self, I knew she would be someone people paid attention to. No one would be so crass as to stare, at least not blatantly, but she would be desired. And she was mine. All mine. “Damn,” Brent whispered beside me. Luckily, Kaye didn’t notice. She seemed somewhat lost in her own thoughts. Still, the fact was she was there and it touched me. She was here for me, and I knew it. She never would have come here if not for me wanting her to. She was interested, though. I could swear it. When I’d dressed her in the outfit she now wore, she had been aroused. I could pretty much smell it on her, and even though this was—as I constantly told myself—all just for the plan, I had to think it would also be a lot of fun. I shot Brent a bit of a look, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy looking at Kaye—at the way her gorgeous body was displayed. Maybe it

wouldn’t have bothered me so much, but I knew Brent was going to possess her body some day. He was going to make Kaye fall for him, and I thought he could do it. “Keep it in your pants,” I whispered back, just slightly irritated. I could try to tell myself—and I did—that my objection was just to keep him from flying off the handle and pushing too fast, but part of me knew better. I put my arm around my wife’s waist and stopped her just outside the door. In my hand, I held the collar and the leash, which I had shown her earlier. I hadn’t made her wear it right away, but I wanted her to remember it. “If you like what we see, I’ll put this on you,” I whispered, and I could swear I saw a flicker of interest in her brilliant green eyes. She nodded slowly, then actually shot me a spirited wink. “We’ll see,” she murmured, and I smirked. She hadn’t said no. She very definitely hadn’t. Kaye was sweet, but she knew her own mind. If she absolutely didn’t want any of this, she never would have come at all. Something about this, at the very least, intrigued her.

Together, the three of us went inside. I stayed close to Kaye to watch her reaction, even the slightest ones she gave. She seemed fairly passive and calm —I was getting good at reading her. The room was lit, but only with low light. Everything could be seen, but there was an aura of mystery to the place that suited it. There wasn’t a lot in the way of actual equipment —not in the first room. There was a spanking bench, padded and comfortable, various restraints, and a table of basic implements like floggers, but not much more. It was just there to show people what was available in the private rooms. This was the room where newcomers were made comfortable—newcomers such as Kaye. It was the most public room, meant to give people a taste of what they could be getting into, hopefully without freaking them out. As Kaye, Brent, and I quietly took our places in the comfortable seats set around the perimeter of the room, none of us said so much as a word. I made sure Kaye sat beside Brent, but beside me, too, so she was between us. Maybe Brent was a talented Dom, but I knew Kaye, and I knew she would be far more comfortable if she was close to her new husband. She rested her hand on my leg and I could feel her

fingers trembling just a little. Trembling with arousal or fear? Both, I thought, and I placed my hand on her slender one, comforting her. It seemed to work and she got brave enough to look into the center of the room. There, a pretty woman (though not as pretty as Kaye) was being tied to the spanking bench. Her knees were on the lower platform and her breasts, which were bare, were pressed against the upper level. Her ankles were tied to the corners, then her wrists, and she squirmed. It was obvious, though, that she was moving not to get away, but because she was so aroused she couldn’t hold her movements back. Everything about her screamed of arousal, from the arch of her back to the way she pressed her ass back, as though begging for someone to hit her. The Dom was a man I didn’t recognize, but who seemed pretty typical of the place—a rich businessman of some sort. He approached her fully clothed, whereas she was almost naked. Only a pair of bright red underpants shielded her modesty, and I heard Kaye gasp beside me at the wanton sight. My cock twitched in my pants, but not for the young sub on the stage. No, it was all for the woman beside me—my wife—who was so hot with

arousal that I could actually feel her burning beside me. Her hand gripped my leg, squeezing it tightly. In the middle of the room, the Dom picked up a flogger—a relatively light, gentle one—meant to work his sub up for the more intense play to come. “Remember your safe word,” the man murmured, but loud enough for all of us to hear. I felt Kaye turn to look at me, but I just placed a finger to my lips. If we went further, and I fully intended to make it happen, I would explain then. “I remember, master,” the sub murmured, her voice low and slightly hoarse with desire. “Please hit me. I’ve been such a bad girl.” She looked around, and I could see, even from a couple of feet away, that she was excited. Her eyes shone and she was definitely an exhibitionist. She was obviously feeding off of the attention of the small crowd. Her Dom didn’t make her wait. He smirked and then he started to hit her. Just lightly, at first, but soon enough a flush of red broke out over her tight, round little ass. She hissed and arched toward the sensation, and the temperature in the room actually seemed to raise a little. Yes, she was showing off for the

crowd, but this was also an incredibly intimate thing for the two of them to be doing. They were linked in a very intimate way, and I stared, fascinated. I wanted it. I wanted the same relationship these two clearly had. “Please,” she was soon begging, turning her plaintive gaze toward her Dom. “Please, master.” “You know you have to ask for what you want more clearly,” he chastised, his hand rubbing over the abused skin of her ass. “You know what I want, slave. Beg for me.” When I pulled my gaze away from the scene in front of us, I saw Kaye staring, utterly rapt. I couldn’t be positive, but I was fairly sure the look on her face wasn’t disgust or revulsion. She seemed completely fascinated. I caught Brent’s eye, and he smirked and nodded at me. Yes, my little saint of a wife was not as sweet and innocent as she might have thought. Her tastes weren’t quite as pure when a little digging was done. “Master! Please, fuck me,” the girl begged, and I turned my attention back to them. The man slapped his partner’s ass once more, the sound of it echoing through the room and making my cock twitch. I wanted to do the same things, but to Kaye.

Right in front of us, the Dom pushed inside his slave, and she—bound as she was—could only be still and enjoy it. She loved it, if her cries of pleasure were any indication at all. Had Kaye ever even watched porn before? Here she had a live show playing out for her pleasure. It was a hot scene, too, between the bound young woman and her master. But my attention was mostly on Kaye. When they were done, another couple took over, but I had had enough. Looking over at Brent, I saw he was in the same place. It was fun to watch, but I’d always been much more interested in the doing rather than the watching. “Kaye,” I murmured quietly in her ear, so as to not interrupt the couple on stage. “I want to take you to a private room. Will you come with me?” It was a risk, and she might say no, but given her heaving breasts and shimmering eyes, I at least had a shot.

Chapter 13 Kaye Never in my life had I seen anything like what had

played out before me. Never had I thought I’d want to. Until David, I’d barely been interested in sex at all. If anyone had told me I would be watching a girl getting spanked until her ass was red and then being taken right up in front of a group of people, I would have called them insane without hesitation. However, there I sat between two strong, handsome men, watching as two strangers played with each other in ways I’d never dreamed of. I was soon squirming just a little, trying to relieve some of the pressure building between my legs. When David murmured to me, I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go anywhere—not in the shape I was in. I was far too suggestible when I was aroused, and David brought me to that state far too easily. “Will he come?” I murmured back, my voice too quiet to be heard by anyone but David. I indicated Brent with a subtle flick of my eyes. I needed to know what to expect before I agreed to anything. “I would like it if he did,” David admitted, and I frowned. I didn’t have anything at all against Brent, but this was new territory for me. It was a little bit freaky to get into this with someone I barely knew. For a moment I examined my distaste for the idea, and then I realized what my issue was. I took a

deep breath and then figured the only way to get past it was to ask the question. “If we go with him,” I kept my voice down. “Is he going to be allowed to have me? To …fuck me?” I wasn’t used to saying curse words out loud and I blushed a little bit as I did, much to my annoyance. I needed to say it, though. I would never, not ever, be okay with another man having me. No way was it going to happen. That was off the table for me. If either David or Brent thought it could ever happen, I would never go into a private room with both of them and let them both fuck me. David was the man for me, and I was a one-man kind of woman. I never wanted to have anyone else deep up inside of me. It was too intimate, and I could never share myself like that with another man. “No,” David started, then shook his head. “Brent, excuse us for a second, please.” Brent nodded with an easygoing smile, and David pulled me to my feet. He put his arm around me and together we went back out into the hallway so we could talk without interrupting anyone. “No, Kaye,” David repeated. “No man will ever have you. Not Brent, Not anyone. You belong to me and only me. I’d kill any man who tried.”

His very fierceness actually soothed me a little. I nodded, relieved, looking at my husband. The very air in this place felt warm and sexually charged, and I didn’t even know what to do with all of the erotic energy I had. “Okay, good,” I murmured, my eyes caught by my husband’s handsome face, his strong jaw, and high cheekbones. In this place, somehow, he looked even more gorgeous than normal, which was definitely saying something. “The thing is, Brent is a lot more experienced at this sort of thing than I am,” David admitted. He had this way of showing just the tiniest bit of vulnerability, and as always, it touched my heart. I knew he didn’t show it to just anyone. “He’s a very experienced Dom, and I want him to teach me how to give you the most pleasure through pain. Just like that girl we were just watching.” Oh. Well. If he put it that way, it suddenly sounded a lot more appealing. The fact was, I had never considered whether I would want to be spanked or not. I had never given it any thought at all, either positive or negative.

Having seen what had happened to the girl, though, I was suddenly much more interested. What would it be like to have it done to me? “Then let’s go,” I whispered, and it was strange to think about it. It had only been a very short time since I’d truly been an innocent, but bit by bit it was being stripped from me. And the worst part was, I wasn’t even sure I minded. A tall, muscular man with salt and pepper hair and dark blue eyes came up behind David. “Mr. B., it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you here.” David turned around and smiled, then shook the man’s hand. “Mr. J., how’s it going?” Mr. J., as my husband had called him, looked me up and down. “It’s been going well. Are those wedding rings I see you guys sporting?” He winked at me, then extended his hand. “Grant Jamison, Mrs. Black?” “I am Mrs. Black. Kaye Black to be exact. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jamison.” He let my hand go, and I found David taking it in a possessive hold. “You gave her your real name,” David said with a quizzical expression.

“She seems like the kind of woman a man can trust,” Grant said as he looked me over. “I can read people rather well.” “I consider myself trustworthy.” I was impressed with the man. He had an air about him that was dominating, but in the best possible way. “Are you married?” He shook his head. “Not me. Not in my future. You’re new here, and I want to be sure you know all the rules. Has your husband told you about them?” Grant looked me square in the eyes. He seemed like he was genuinely concerned about me. “I have not. But my buddy, who’s much more practiced than I am, is about to join us in a private room and he’ll tell her all the rules.” David ran his arm around my shoulders and kissed the side of my head. “I would never harm a hair on this woman’s head. I only want to please her and show her new and exciting things. And we’ll be under guidance from a man I trust implicitly.” “Good to know,” Grant said as he looked at me once again. “You see, I’m one of the founding fathers of this club. I make it my personal mission to see that everyone here knows they’re safe. There are cameras all over the place and our staff monitors everyone. If you call out the safe word and your partner doesn’t take heed, we will come

in and end things. All you have to do is call that out and anything that’s happening will stop. Do you understand that?” I nodded my answer, then gave the man a smile. “I do. Thank you so much. You’ve actually made me feel much better about things. I want to be able to see to my husband’s every want, need, and desire. Of course, I want to feel safe while doing that, though.” Grant nodded, then left us, as he had spotted another seemingly innocent couple coming into the hallway. David took my hand and led me away. I was about to see what all the fuss about this BDSM scene was all about. Was I really ready for this?

B EFORE I KNEW IT, I was in a private room—one much more intimidating than the one I’d started in. There were all sorts of pieces of furniture around, most of which I hadn’t the slightest clue about, and it tended to make my imagination run a little bit wild. “You’re only here as long as you wish to be here,” David murmured to me as I looked around the room in somewhat of a panic. “The moment you

want this to stop, it will.” It was the exact right thing to say and I relaxed quite a bit. I even let David put the leather collar around my neck and stood still as he handed the leash over to Brent. “Now it’s time for us to play.” Brent grinned at me, comforting me further. Whatever happened here, I was safe. “If you want me to stop whatever I’m doing, say red. If you just need a break, say yellow.” I nodded my understanding, and Brent led me over to a set of chains that dangled from the wall with thick, silvery links attached to shackles on the end. In seconds, I was firmly chained to the wall and I moaned softly and closed my eyes. It was almost embarrassing how aroused I was by this. I tugged lightly on the cuffs, not trying to get away but simply testing them, and found them firm. I really was bound, hopelessly stuck right where I was, and part of me loved it. Closing my eyes, I let myself revel in my helplessness. So often, I had to be the strong one. At work, I had to be the one in control, for the health of my patients. It was somehow highly intriguing to give the control

over to someone else. Even without my eyes closed, I couldn’t have seen what was happening. I was facing the wall, so my vulnerable ass was displayed to the two men. I heard movements behind me, and I waited in something approaching agony to see what would happen next. The first touch was light. It felt smooth and slightly cool, and I recognized it as leather. One of those floggers, I realized, as the tails dragged softly over my skin. I shivered, and slowly, slowly, Brent started to up the intensity. It never hurt. It never did much more than sting, but it was a fascinating sensation. I was being hit. Not hard—and not against my will—but I was bound and somewhat helpless as a big, strong man struck me with the flogger. My panties were soaking wet. My juices had gone right through them and dripped down my legs, drenching them. Something about the whole situation got to me, making me moan and writhe. Soon enough I was pressing back toward the lashes of the flogger. “She’s ready,” I heard Brent murmur. I did hear the words, but they didn’t seem particularly important to me. In my state of arousal, I was in a sort of

daze, and I just moaned as I was unchained from the wall and moved. A soft, cloth blindfold was tied over my eyes and I whimpered. If it had happened any sooner—before I’d gotten so worked up—it probably would have scared me. As it was, it just excited me more and made me feel more helpless for them. “Bend over, Kaye,” David told me, and it was pretty much sheer instinct that had me obeying him. I bent over and recognized my husband’s scent, even if I couldn’t see him, as he eased me into place. Something padded pressed against my neck, and then my wrists were raised too. I was in a sort of stockade, I realized, as the other part of the wooden structure closed on top of me, trapping my head and my hands with no hope of escape. Bent over, utterly vulnerable, and unable to even see anything, I waited. It felt like an eternity to my overstimulated body, but it was probably only a second or two until one of them spanked me for the first time. I could sense them, somehow, even if I couldn’t feel them. One of them stood on my left, the other one on my right, and they took turns spanking my tender ass. Soon it was actually stinging, and for

some reason, I only got wetter and more desperate. Being spanked and being used by these two men was turning me on. I’d never suspected myself of being very kinky, but I was being proven wrong in a rather spectacular way as I was held captive for these two strong, handsome men. Even so, I somehow knew something important. I wouldn’t enjoy this at all if I didn’t know David was right there. It was definitely hot, but without him, it would be terrifying—not something I would want at all. How long it lasted, I couldn’t have said. They spanked me until I lost myself completely in the rhythm, in the hints of pain, and in the overwhelming pleasure their hands brought me. Then it all changed. I felt and heard movements behind me, and before I could make heads or tails of what was going on, one of them rubbed his very hard, slick cock over my reddened ass and then pushed inside of me all at once. I cried out in protest and came very close to using the safe word. My lips parted because there was a man inside of me and I didn’t know which man it was. My husband? Or Brent? The panic only lasted for a second. I closed my

mouth again and relaxed into it. I knew who it was. I knew the feeling of my husband inside of me—of how perfectly he filled me up. I knew the feel of him and any other man would just feel utterly wrong to me. “David,” I moaned, and I felt his hands on my waist. He’d pulled my thong aside to take me, but the corset, the heels, and the collar remained on me. It felt filthy, in the best way possible. “Kaye, pretty girl. My pretty girl,” David moaned, and his voice was hoarse. Yes, he was definitely the one inside me. I had no idea where Brent was, but I didn’t care. It was just me and David, and it was every bit as intimate as I could have imagined. Maybe even more so, because of the blindfold. I literally couldn’t do anything but relax into the pleasure and let it happen. The orgasm that ripped through me was more intense, too, because of all of the teasing and because my vision had been robbed from me. Once I started to come, it was like I couldn’t stop. I cried out, my body arching over and over again while my husband spilled inside of me. I could get very used to this.

Chapter 14 David “When is this going to happen?” Brent asked, looking at me with impatience clear in his green eyes. “I thought I’d get to screw her already. This is taking forever. Is this thing even happening?” I glared at him over the piles of papers that he’d brought over from the office. We were working on them, but I turned away for a second so I could look at him instead. “It’s only been a few weeks,” I commented, trying to keep my voice much milder than it wanted to come out. “Are you falling for her or something? Just chill out. Everything is on track.” When Brent didn’t look convinced, I kept talking, maybe trying to convince myself as much as I was him. “Look, you don’t know Kaye. I do. She’s not going to just fall into bed with you. It’s going to take time.” The original timeframe was within the year. I still thought we could make it, but only if Brent didn’t push it too far, too fast. Brent sighed softly, but he nodded his agreement. “It’s taking too long,” he complained. As if we had summoned her with our talk, Kaye walked in, carrying a tray of food and greeting us with a wide, genuine smile.

“What’s taking too long?” she asked, and I looked at Brent, then sighed. The truth was, I was being a little bit selfish. I was letting myself enjoy all of the incredible things about being married to her and the plan …it had fallen by the wayside a little bit. Brent was right. It was time to get going on this. “None of your business,” I snapped, and it was the first time I had ever said anything so rude to my wife. I saw her recoil with surprise. Seeing the look on her face made me feel a like I had been punched in the stomach. And I knew from the look on her face that she was feeling much the same way. Only probably worse. Probably much worse. “We’re trying to work here,” I continued, making my voice cold and annoyed—channeling the very real emotions I was having to make myself sound more like an asshole than I normally ever did. Selfloathing, for instance, was one of those emotions. “Just get out of here.” Many women would have snarled back, or maybe with the way I was acting would have even dumped the tray of food right onto me. Kaye didn’t do either of those things. She put the tray on the desk, even carefully shifting the piles of paper out of the way so nothing got squished by it, and then with

nothing more than a scowl, she left the room. It was like kicking a puppy and guilt gnawed at my insides in a way that was far from comfortable. My skin crawled with the disgust I felt for myself and I watched as she closed the door behind her firmly. She didn’t slam it, though. I had given her all sorts of reasons to do it, but she didn’t. It was just how Kaye was—far more patient than I deserved—and I was going to punish her for it. I was pretty much the Antichrist at this point and I knew it. But I wasn’t sure there was a way for me to even start to dig myself out of this pit. “Wow,” Brent commented, sounding highly admiring. “That was cold, man. You just shut her down.” I really, really didn’t want to be admired for being the dick I was being. I turned to my best friend and the look on his face made me a bit sick to my stomach. He really didn’t see a problem with how I had just treated my wife. If anything, it pleased him. What did I expect, though? Brent had always been very good at getting women into bed, but he’d never been what I would call respectful of them. I’d met men, many of them, who were much more

obnoxious about it, but Brent wasn’t exactly Prince Charming. Of course, neither was I. Who was I to judge? I forced myself not to glare at him and instead gave him a nod. This wasn’t moving fast enough for him? Well, it was time to step it up a notch or two and get this show on the road. I was starting to feel like the sooner it was over, the better for me. And not just because of the money. I had thought it would be no big deal to be this deliberately cruel to another human being, but it was harder than I’d thought. “What are you waiting for? Go. Comfort her,” I urged, and he grinned at me and nodded, rising to his feet. “It’s in the bag,” he told me, and then he, too, left the room.

I TRIED to tell myself there was no point in following. Kaye might see me, and Brent needed his space to work his magic without me around. My presence could derail things before they even really got started. No, it made much more sense for me to hold back

and wait for a report later. So I picked up one of the papers, resolutely settled back to read it, and then promptly put it down and walked out of the room. Good advice, I had found, was very easy to give myself. It was much harder to follow it. I very quietly stood in the hallway outside of the room I’d taken as my office and listened. I knew the house well—it was an old one where sound echoed around pretty freely. When I heard voices, I followed them. Kaye had retreated into the kitchen and she sat at the table with her head bowed, dark hair almost covering her face. Her eyes, usually so vibrant, were closed completely. Brent was right there already. The guy worked fast. He slid his arm around her and then pulled her into a hug, encouraging her to rest her head against his chest. Even as she hugged him back, I noticed she didn’t really cling to him like she would have done to me. She accepted the comfort of a friend, but she wasn’t all over him. She was completely appropriate, and I shook my head. We had our work cut out for us—more than I would have thought.

“It’s okay. He’s just a jerk. Stressed out about work,” I heard Brent saying. His hand was on the back of her head, lightly stroking her hair, and I gritted my teeth at the sight of it. “He’s not a jerk,” Kaye defended me, which only made me feel more like the world’s biggest asshole. “He’s never talked to me like that before. There’s something going on.” Right. We had to keep in mind that she was not only very loving and affectionate, but also very smart. If we wanted to keep the wool over her eyes, we were going to have to be a little bit more careful. “Just work,” Brent commented. “I wish …I wish he wouldn’t yell at me, though,” Kaye said, and she opened her eyes. To my horror, I saw the gleam of tears in them and my stomach dropped like a stone. “It hurts.” Brent was doing all the right things, nodding sympathetically. He even, in a very smooth move, took her hand and patted it gently. “It’s just how he is sometimes. When he’s stressed, he …well. He doesn’t take being grumpy well.” Brent smiled at her, obviously trying to coax a smile in return. Kaye didn’t oblige him, but just

looked at him thoughtfully. “I’ll just have to try harder,” Kaye murmured, and I winced. Damn it. Even with what little Brent was doing, many women would have already crawled into his lap. He was putting out all the right signals, coming off as concerned and not creepy at all. “I love him so much,” Kaye whispered so quietly I could barely hear her. She lowered her head, and Brent was obviously trying not to roll his eyes at her admission. He’d never had much use for love. Well, at least Brent wasn’t falling for her. That was something. On the other hand, what would it matter in the long run? Kaye was only mine for now. Once this all played out, she would be gone out of my life completely. Brent patted her shoulder, and Kaye did turn to him for comfort. It was just the slightest inclination of her body toward him, but Brent looked up and shrugged at me, as if asking if he should proceed. I shook my head, and then, before she could see me or before I could burst into the room and tear my best friend’s hand right off of his wrist so he couldn’t touch her again, I retreated. Kaye wasn’t ready to be seduced. Despite all of the opportunities that Brent had given her, she had

never done anything even the slightest bit inappropriate. It didn’t stop me from feeling the prickly sensation of jealousy. It clung to me uncomfortably, making it hard to think about anything else. I didn’t deserve her. I had no reason to be jealous. Jealousy wasn’t all I felt, either. There was guilt, too, very real and vivid and painful, cramping up my stomach and squeezing my lungs so it felt like I couldn’t get enough air into them. I left and went not to my study, but to the library. I knew my grandfather had some good Scotch there, and even though drinking wasn’t usually one of my vices, I was feeling the definite urge for a good drink. With a sigh, I fell down onto his huge, old office chair, and just as I’d known there would be, I found a bottle of the good stuff. There were even glasses there, and I poured myself a shot and took it back, enjoying the burn of the fine spirit as it filled my stomach. The alcohol didn’t take anything away—not the jealousy nor the guilt. It was fine, though. I tried to comfort myself. Soon it would all be over, and then

I could work on forgetting. Just a little bit more discomfort, but with so much to gain. I steeled my resolve, set my shoulders, and decided then and there that I needed to step this whole process up. I was going to make myself as unpleasant as possible and drive her right into Brent’s waiting arms. The thought should have been comforting. This could be over very soon, after all, if Kaye would only cooperate. And how long could she really hold out? It should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. I poured myself another drink, trying to let it burn everything away. It turned out, though, I was expecting far too much from a simple drink.

Kaye It stung. I’m not going to lie. Having the man I loved speak to me as he had hurt me, but maybe David was hurting more. Being in such a bad mood, I’d come to realize over the day, couldn’t be a whole lot of fun. I wasn’t, and had never been, a quitter. Brent might think it was hopeless to try to cheer David up, but I

knew better. I had to at least try. I was his wife, after all, and it hurt me when he was so unhappy. So I would do my best to make him happy again. I really wasn’t willing to just quit trying—not when all he’d done was snap at me. Yes, it had been unpleasant, but didn’t we all have bad moods from time to time? Sometimes I was just oversensitive and I knew that about myself. Brent had been sympathetic and it had been nice to have someone who seemed to be on my side. He had probably been on the receiving end of one of David’s bad moods before. Still, it was time for me to step in. It was too soon for me to do my best to make my husband relaxed enough that he could be himself with me again. He didn’t need to push me away, and I needed to make him see that. I made my plans, and when night came, I was already in bed. I was wearing one of the sexier things that my lovely husband had bought me—a pretty little baby-doll teddy in an emerald green. I liked to think it did great things for my eyes, but whatever the case was, it definitely showed off my body, which was more important. When David came in, I was ready for him. I lay on the bed, my body artfully displayed—I hoped.

Either that or I looked ridiculous. I wasn’t really too sure which. “I’m glad you came to bed,” I said, giving him my best seductive smile. It wasn’t something I was particularly good at yet, but I gave it a shot. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He looked at me and for a moment—just a very short time—I could swear he was really looking at me. Then he turned away and started to undress, not paying any attention to me at all. It seemed his bad mood was still in full force. I’d have to try a little harder. “I keep thinking about that night,” I murmured, watching his back, which seemed pretty uncompromising. But I could swear he’d liked seeing me spread out over the bed for him, so I couldn’t give up. “You know, back at the club? I keep thinking about how you made me yours.” “I’m not in the mood,” David said, and maybe it was true. He slept naked, but he’d pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms. Well, I’d never often been one to back away from a challenge. “I know,” I murmured, rolling over to face him as he slid into bed. I rested my hand on his strong chest, caressing over the muscles there and tracing

them with my fingertips. “But I plan on fixing your bad mood for you.” He snorted softly, but I ignored it. No hurt feelings were going to ruin this for me. I slid my hand down, toying with the strings on his pants before tugging them loose and plunging my hand inside. To my delight, he was already starting to harden. Maybe his mind was in a bad mood, but his body wasn’t. I would just have to appeal to his body for now, instead of his mind. I gripped him and he let out the slightest hiss. Taking it as a sign that I should continue, I eased down his pants and freed his thick, rapidly hardening cock. It was still a little new to me, but I wasn’t going to let it hold me back. I shifted down, kneeling beside his hips, and bent over. Without hesitation, I took him deep between my lips, sucking him determinedly. One thing I had noticed about men—it seemed it was quite difficult for them to stay in a bad mood when they were getting head. I just had to hope I was doing an okay job. I didn’t have to wonder for long. When I opened my mouth and took him deep, he

gave a soft growl, which would have been encouragement enough. He also grabbed my head, however, his fingers slipping into my hair and cradling me. His hips pushed toward my mouth like he couldn’t quite seem to help himself. There! I had to guess I was helping with the bad mood at least a little … He rocked up toward me, and I took it. This was still so new, and I let myself explore a little, stroking over his hips, his stomach, and finally down to his balls. They were so heavy, and I moaned around him as I stroked them. The moan seemed to excite him and he started to really pump between my lips. I took it—I took it all —and in some way, I loved it. I was certainly dripping wet, and I had to hope he would fuck me or return the favor in some way afterward. Regardless of what would happen after, I threw myself into it. When he leaked precum into my mouth, I licked up every single last drop of it. He gave me more as his movements became more frenzied, and I knew he was getting close. “I’m going to come in your pretty mouth, Kaye,” he purred, and there was no trace of bad humor in his voice now. It was all rough and dominant and sexy, and I moaned around him again as his cock

twitched and started to spurt right between my lips. This had never been an act I’d expected to like, but with David, I did. There were many things that I liked with David that I was sure I wouldn’t enjoy if anyone else did them. It was more about David than anything else. He made everything we did so amazing. I swallowed it all down and pulled away from him. I was delighted to see the smile on his face. In further good news, he also had a glint of mischief in his eye. I’d heard many men would be done after coming, as he already had, but not him, apparently. “Lie down,” he growled. “On your back.” I had to admit, I loved it when he got all dominant on me. It was the most arousing thing, and I didn’t hesitate. I did as I was told, spreading myself over the bed and lying on my back. From beside the bed, he took out a pair of handcuffs I hadn’t even known were there. They weren’t harsh, though. The metal was surrounded by fur, so when he fastened it around my right wrist, it felt soft and didn’t pinch at all. “Mine,” he hissed, and it sounded like he meant it. Even with how he’d snapped at me earlier, I was so pleased to see he still wanted me. I’d had some

light, fairly unformed ideas about how he might be done with me already. “Yours,” I murmured, my heart on my lips and my eyes fixed on him. It was so nice to see him snap out of his strange mood and to see the light back in his eyes and desire on his face. Once I was firmly restrained to the bed, David was on me in a second. His pajama pants were gone before I could even blink, almost like he’d teleported out of them, and the little panties that went with the baby-doll were slipped down my legs, leaving me bare for him. There was no preparation. No foreplay. He thrust inside me all at once, his thick cock filling me up, stretching me open, and claiming me. Making me his. I was his, wasn’t I? He wouldn’t take me like he had if he didn’t really want me still. My legs were free, and I wrapped them around his waist, anchoring us together as he slid deep into my hot, wet channel. I was so ready for him. I had been since I’d been lying in bed, planning this all out. Tasting him as he’d come in my mouth had sealed the deal. “You’re mine, Kaye. Mine,” David insisted again. I looked up into his handsome face and my heart pounded in a way that had little to do with how

perfectly he was using my body. His. I was his. Mind, body, and soul, I belonged to him, and we both knew it. “David,” I moaned, tugging at the cuff on my wrist to remind myself of how thoroughly bound I was— how helpless I was for him. I shuddered and rocked on him, my pussy walls clenching tightly around him as each thrust inside me brought me closer to ecstasy. “Say it,” David insisted, his dick pumping away inside of me, his hands cupping my breasts, and his thumbs playing over the nipples. “Tell me who you belong to.” His eyes were getting darker with his own growing pleasure, and his thrusts were deeper, harder, and more erratic inside of me. His breathing had sped up and it matched mine perfectly, mingling between us and linking us in one more way. My husband. My perfect, sexy, gorgeous husband. Bad moods or not, I loved him. And it seemed I was even better than Brent was at bringing him out of those bad moods. There was no doubt about it. I was his. Everything I was, was for him. I smiled up at him, my hips rising

to meet his desperate thrusts, just as eager as he was. My own pleasure was gathering like storm clouds, and lightning bolts of pleasure were starting to flicker through my body, making it tense up around him. “I’m yours,” I whispered, relentlessly fucking myself on him, using him just as much as he used me. “I’m yours!” The last two words were pretty much shouted because the force of the orgasm that ripped through me stole all my control. I moaned and writhed, the cuffs rattling against the bed frame as I clenched around him. Pulsing pleasure shot through my entire body until I was sweaty and weak. A few more thrusts, which only prolonged my pleasure, and then David was finding his own release. I felt the hot wash of his fluids inside of me, the slightly sticky liquid making me slippery around him. He pushed deep, holding me down with his whole body as he shot inside of me. “Mine!” His voice was insistent, and for a moment, he almost sounded panicked. I frowned a little. Did he really still doubt it? I was his—of course I was. I was beyond happy to be his. “I’m yours,” I told him, panting, as soon as I could

form words again. “I’m yours, David, always and forever. Until the end of time.” Tangled up in each other, arms firmly around each other with both of us considerably more sated, we drifted off into a deep, satisfying sleep. I would be his, forever and then some.

Chapter 15 David A few months passed. I knew Brent was chomping at the bit. I knew he didn’t understand why it was all taking so long, but I knew it was the right thing to do. Kaye needed to settle into the new marriage —to become a little bit more complacent about it. I kept myself a bit distant from her. Not too much. Not enough to allow her to accuse me of anything. Just enough to shake her loose from me, hopefully. Just enough so that, when the time came, she would fall right into Brent’s arms. Because it was still the plan. I hadn’t given it up. Sometimes I slipped up and almost forgot the main point of the whole thing. Sometimes I let myself enjoy her company and her willing presence in my bed.

It was probably better that I did, though. If she found me moody and unpredictable, she would be more likely to fall for Brent, who could—in her mind—offer her stability. It made me sick to think about her falling for Brent. He was just going to break her heart. I tried not to think about it at all, but it came back into my mind time after time. So it was easier to mostly avoid her, to pick little fights, and to push her away. Though it would be easier still if she would fight back, but she never did. I was avoiding her the day she came to me, her expression both nervous and determined. She opened the door to my office, where I was working, and the look on her face robbed me of the snarky comment I would probably have made. She knew better than to bother me while I was working. Yet she was, and I found I couldn’t speak —I couldn’t tell her off. Not when she was looking at me the way she was. “What is it?” I finally managed, and she seated herself across the desk from me, giving me the most plaintive look I’d ever seen from another human being. She inclined herself toward me, her big green eyes fixed firmly on my face.

“I want to talk to you,” she murmured, and for a moment I was actually afraid she wanted to leave me. Maybe she’d figured out what Brent and I were doing. My guilty conscience gnawed at me as I stared at her, trying to read her face. Surely she wasn’t leaving me. She loved me. We could work this out. “What is it?” I asked, my tongue feeling numb and my mouth dry. I tried to sound nonchalant, but wasn’t sure it came off particularly well. If she did leave, would she be considered the party at fault? Would I get everything, without even having to do the work to make her cheat on me? The thought was there, but was overwhelmed by a deeper, more urgent, more primal one. Don’t leave me. “I want to start a family, David,” Kaye murmured, and I stared at her as pieces of the argument I’d been crafting started to fall down around my ears, unneeded. Whatever I had expected, it definitely hadn’t been those words, and I looked at her, trying to make it all make sense. “A family?” I made my shocked mouth form the words, then shook my head. I definitely hadn’t thought through a good response ahead of time to

such a statement, and I stared at her a bit stupidly as she looked imploringly back at me. “I want a baby,” she told me, and one of her hands rested on her flat stomach, stroking the starched white shirt that was neatly tucked into the waistline of a black skirt. The movement of her hand was faintly erotic to me in ways I didn’t understand. I took a deep breath and shook my head. Better to nip this in the bud right here and now, to keep it from going any further. “Kaye, we’ve only been married a few months,” I pointed out. “It’s far too soon. We should wait a year, or maybe two, so we’re both ready. A baby isn’t a decision to rush into.” I thought it all sounded very reasonable, but Kaye looked stubborn. It wasn’t something she did very often—only when she really wanted something— and I knew then I was in for a rough ride. She had really dug in her heels about this. “David, I want to see a little version of us—both of us. I want to know if our baby will have my eyes, or yours, or a mix of the two. I want to see what our child will look like, know how they act, and learn if they love to paint or if they have your head for finance. I want to know them.”

Her voice had gotten deeply passionate, and I felt my heart stirring inside of me. A little version of the two of us. Kaye and me mingled in a little person. The idea appealed to me. But it was, of course, absolutely out of the question. There was absolutely no way I was going to bring a baby into a fake marriage. Even I wasn’t cruel enough to do something so heinous. A child would be an innocent and would be deeply hurt by the inevitable fallout between me and Kaye. “I don’t want a baby. Not yet.” My voice was very firm, and I looked at her, keeping my eyes hard and my gaze uncompromising. “You’re going to have to wait. We’ll do it when we both think it’s right.” Kaye was usually so sweet and biddable, and part of me assumed, even with how big of a bee she had in her bonnet about this, that she would back off and accept my words, even if she didn’t like them. The thing about Kaye, though, which I had forgotten, was she could be stubborn when she really, truly wanted something. I had only seen it a few times. Mostly, she was content to go with the flow and allow whatever happened to happen, but she could definitely hold her own when it came to something very important to her. “You don’t have the right to shut me down like

this,” Kaye argued. “I’m ready to have a baby now.” I stared at her, trying to will her to back down. This was a nightmare. If this marriage was real, I would be thrilled. It actually surprised me a little just how badly I wanted what she was offering—a family, a baby, and something to link us together forever. Which was exactly why the whole thing was so terrifying. I wanted it too badly. Kaye was going to be out of my life, and not too very far in the future either. It was utterly unfair of me to bring a baby into this. “I want to get off the pill,” she told me firmly, her eyes sparkling with resolve in a way that made me want to grab her, bend her over the desk, and get started on the baby right then and there. “I want to get this started. I wouldn’t force anything on you, but …you have to at least think about it.” No way. I wasn’t about to get caught in a trap, no matter how cleverly she laid it out for me. If I agreed to this—to any of it—she’d see this as a plausible option and it really wasn’t. “We’re married, David. ‘Til death do us part, remember?” Kaye implored. She reached out and took my hand, squeezing it, and I was so surprised by the sudden movement, I let her have it. “There’s

no reason to wait. Just …think about it?” Oh, God. My heart clenched in my chest, a tight stone that threatened to sink into my belly. I wanted it. I hadn’t known until she spoke the words, but I wanted a baby—a child to follow in my footsteps. In our footsteps. And I could hardly ask for a more perfect co-parent than Kaye. She would be amazing with a child, I could already tell. We had the money for it too … The thought stopped me cold in my tracks. While I was waxing poetic about having a baby with my wife, I was forgetting about the money. So much money to help me with my endeavors. Money that should’ve been all mine and mine alone. Most people would agree it would be a pretty steep price to pay for a child. There was absolutely no way I was going to let her get away with this. She wasn’t going to take everything from me, and I was suddenly furious that she would even try. “No.” My voice was utterly uncompromising. What was the point in giving her false hope? It just wasn’t going to happen, and I stared at her, willing her to see the facts. “I don’t want a child. Not right now.

Just wait.” Just wait. It wasn’t even logical. There was literally no reason for us to wait, or no reason she knew about anyway. “David …” she blinked back tears, and I felt like pretty much the biggest asshole in the whole entire world. I was making her cry, and she wasn’t the type of woman to use tears as a weapon. She was genuinely upset—heartbroken even. And there was much worse to come. She was going to have to be strong. I liked to think she could be. Maybe this wouldn’t break her completely in the end. It helped my guilty conscience to think so, anyway. “Damn it, David,” she cried, tears streaming down her face. She dashed them away angrily. “Why won’t you at least think about it?” I didn’t answer. What could I say? I could hardly tell her the truth. Oh, sorry, Kaye, we can’t have a baby because I’m after your money, which should be mine, and I don’t want to bring an innocent child into this mess? Oh, that would go over well.

She spun away from me, going to the door and throwing it open, the knob hitting the wall with a loud bang. Kaye ran out, hair streaming behind her, sobbing. Not just with sadness, either, I was willing to bet. She was furious with me. I wasn’t even sure I could blame her. She should be. I was deliberately doing terrible things to her. It settled into my craw. She was utterly furious with me. Would she end our marriage over this? I shook my head as I thought about the question I had asked myself. No, Kaye wouldn’t give up that easily. And I couldn’t give up the inheritance. I just couldn’t do it. As much as part of me wished I could, as much as I wished I could give Kaye what she wanted—what we both wanted—and start a little family with her, it just wasn’t possible for me. Giving up was something I didn’t know how to do. I was set on this path now, bound to follow it to the end. So I let Kaye go, then reached for the phone. “What is it, David?” Brent sounded annoyed. I knew he was in a bad mood, cranky with me because I hadn’t let him go further with the plan. Part of me wondered if he was yearning to taste my wife’s delicious lips, her tits, and her pussy.

My blood began to boil, but I took a deep breath to cool it a bit. With the talk of a baby, I had to make things move faster. What I wanted to tell him would give him much less reason to be grumpy. “Kaye’s upset. Get over here as soon as you can.” “Upset?” he actually sounded happy about that. It made me sick at him and myself. The poor woman was in tears because she wanted to have my baby and I was denying her that. I would give her anything she wanted, just not a human who would belong to both of us, entangling us forever. No, I could not have that at all. “Yes, I’ll let her tell you why that is. Hurry.” “I’m already in my car, heading your way. Is it odd that my whole body is tingling in anticipation of holding her?” His question doubled me over. If he had been right in front of me, I’d have plunged my fist right into his chest and ripped his heart out. Heartless bastard!

Kaye How could he? If he had told me he didn’t want a child, maybe it would be different. After all, I hadn’t checked with him about it before we got married. Some people didn’t want a family. David had the right to what he wanted. I would have been disappointed if he was one of those people, but he hadn’t actually said he was. In fact, he had seemed almost to want a child, but just wanted to wait for some unknown reason. He wouldn’t talk about it or even think about it, and I just couldn’t understand why. Disappointment crushed my heart, weighing it down, and I wept bitterly as I sat on the front porch. There was a swing there, and I let myself rock gently back and forth, the motion somewhat soothing. Tears rolled down my face in a torrent, one I couldn’t have stopped if I had tried, so I didn’t even bother. It was never going to happen. I was never going to get what I wanted. The baby that my arms ached to cradle was never going to be there, because my husband just wouldn’t allow it to happen. Damned if I could understand why.

The sound of tires had my eyes opening and I saw a car drive up our driveway. It was dark outside, the sun having just gone down, but I saw a man inside the car and it didn’t take a lot of sleuth work to figure out who it was. It had to be Brent. What other man would be coming here this late? That thought made me realize I should get dinner. I had been hungry and it likely wasn’t helping with the emotional torrent racing through me. But I felt so damn hopeless and watched with dull eyes as Brent got out of the car and walked toward me. He didn’t seem surprised to see me, even though I was sitting on the front porch, obviously crying. He just gave a soft little sigh, then settled down beside me on the two-person swing and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. It felt good at first. My husband was being so unaccountably cruel and to have someone just hold me—it felt comforting. I let myself relax into it, resting my head on Brent’s shoulder and sobbing like I would never stop. “What is it?” he asked, and I had to fight to calm myself down enough to even speak. I took a deep, shuddering breath and slowly, slowly, I was able to talk. “I asked him about a baby. I told him I want to start

a family. He told me I had to wait,” I whispered, wondering how trivial all of this sounded to this big deal businessman. Did I sound like a complete idiot? Honestly, I didn’t even care. It mattered to me, whether it should or not. But I didn’t quite dare to look at him. Brent was always so strong, so dominant, and he rarely seemed to take anything seriously. I didn’t think I could handle it if he laughed at me. “I’m sorry,” he said instead, sounding strangely sober, at least for him. It seemed he did take my problem seriously, which was even more of a relief. After David’s reaction, I’d been worried maybe I was going crazy. “That has to suck.” Yes, it really did. I sobbed harder into his shoulder, but there was relief there too. I wasn’t crazy. Brent didn’t seem to think so anyway. It wasn’t much, but it helped a little. “It’s never going to happen,” I whispered, finally stating my fears out loud. “I don’t know if he just doesn’t want a family or what it is. Maybe he’s afraid to let himself want something like that again. But I’ve always wanted a baby.” Brent sighed softly as he reached for me, tilting my

chin up so I met his green eyes. They seemed to shimmer in the darkness. There was compassion and comfort there. “He doesn’t deserve you, you know,” Brent commented abruptly, his eyes fixated on mine. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t know what he has. You’re incredible. Way too good for him.” Something about the way he spoke to me made the skin on the back of my neck prickle. Maybe it was because he was so willing to say those sorts of things about his friend, who should surely have his loyalty over me. Why was he always taking my side? “Let go of me.” As I said the words, I was more and more sure I was right. Something here was wrong—very wrong—and I needed to stop it before it got more wrong. “What’s wrong?” Brent asked, and he pulled away from me a little, but kept his arm around me. It started to feel more oppressive than comforting, and I stood up, looking down at him, deeply thoughtful. “I’m not stupid,” I told him, my breathing very rapid and my heart pounding. What situation had I gotten myself into? Whatever it was, I had to get

myself out of it immediately. “What do you mean?” he asked, but I could swear I saw a hint of wariness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I didn’t think so. I was pretty sure it was the confirmation I needed. I needed to stop this—to halt this before it got messy. Even messier than it already was. “You’re always there when things get rough,” I spoke slowly, letting myself feel out the words before I said them. I was going to sound insane, paranoid, and probably egotistical, but I still needed to get this all out. “You always say the right things and you always take my side over my husband’s. That’s pretty weird behavior for his best friend.” Brent stood up and walked away from me, hands on the railing, facing away from me. I had a sudden burst of insight that told me he just didn’t want me looking at this face right then. Why? Unless I was right … His voice was smooth, but there was an edge of sadness when he said, “I know how hard David can be is all.” “Look, couples have arguments,” I continued on, looking at his back. “No marriage is going to be

easy. I knew it going into this. Most of my friends have been divorced, so yeah, I get it. It’s never going to be a smooth road—not all of the time. I wasn’t expecting anything of the sort when I married David.” “I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he replied, his voice strangely tight. “But you’re way off. I lived with David for years. We were in college together. I know how hard he can be to live with. That’s all there is to it.” I frowned, trying to study him, but it was difficult when he wouldn’t even look at me. The thing was, he wasn’t quite acting like he was telling the truth. His actions were just a little bit suspicious. I always tried to see the best in everyone, but I wasn’t born yesterday. But he was my husband’s best friend, and I didn’t want to have conflict with the man. “Are you sure that’s all, Brent?” “I just wanted to help.” Brent didn’t look at me as he said the words. “I wasn’t trying anything else. I’m sorry if you took it that way.” Ugh. He was trying to make me sound like I was crazy, wasn’t he? Just then and there, my alarm level jumped up, making me take a few more steps away from him. He was sorry if I took it that way.

I could swear I wasn’t taking it ‘that way’ for no reason. But he was trying to act like nothing was going on. I didn’t know if I bought it. I could be wrong, but my intuition was telling me something was going on here. “I just want to be your friend.” Brent finally turned around and his face was completely composed. But when I looked closer, I saw tightness around his eyes and lips that I was sure he wasn’t even aware of. I was looking for the signs and I saw them everywhere. “I just want to help you and David. I want you guys to make it.” As always, he was saying all the right things. A little bit too right. I frowned, looking him over, and searching his face—his eyes. I didn’t like what I saw. “Please don’t worry about me.” My voice sounded very formal to my own ears, but in this case, it was definitely better to be too formal than too friendly. I didn’t want him to have any hope he would ever have anything from me, other than my friendship. I hated being so cold, especially when I’d liked Brent so much before, but I wasn’t going to lead anyone on. My allegiance was to my husband, and no other man should think they had a shot. “As if I could stop myself.” He gave me a smile. “But I’ll butt out if that’s what you really want,

Kaye.” “David is in his office, I believe, if you came to see him. Have a good night,” I said softly, then walked into the house. My body didn’t feel big enough to hold my emotions and if I stayed any longer I knew it might get messy. It took a lot to annoy me, but this whole situation was starting to. With David acting so bizarre, and now Brent being just a little bit too conveniently there, I’d had enough. There was only so much one woman should be expected to take and I was far beyond it. Maybe I was insane. Maybe the signs I was getting from Brent weren’t accurate. After all, I was hardly very good at telling when people wanted me. I’d always kind of ignored the whole attraction thing, at least until I’d met David. I was on high alert, though, and I didn’t think I was wrong. I was fairly certain I knew the look in Brent’s eyes, and it was desire. Did he want me sexually? Or worse, did he think he could have me? Did he, for some reason, think he could take me from David? From the only man I could ever love? Surely he wasn’t so stupid. I had never given him even the slightest sign …had I? My mind raced as I

thought back to all of our interactions. There were so few of them, it didn’t take me long. Flopping down on my bed, I shook my head. I had allowed him and David to dominate me together … and I had liked it. But it hadn’t been my idea. I never would have done it without David there, either. Well, it was a no-brainer for me to say it would never happen again. I had to be perfectly polite to Brent, but firm. I didn’t want to make things awkward, and Brent hadn’t actually done anything, so I didn’t want to create problems between Brent and David. But I was definitely going to be much more careful around Brent from now on.

Part Four

Chapter 16 David I was very, very busy. Yes, I was. Completely

occupied with staring down at piles of paperwork as I tried to make sense of everything. When the door was pushed open, I looked up sharply, expecting Kaye. Expecting her to tell me off again or to beg me for the baby that I—if I were completely honest with myself—wished desperately to give to her. But it wasn’t Kaye with desperate pleas on her lips. It was Brent, and he looked more out of sorts than I could ever remember seeing him before. Brent wasn’t the sort of guy who took anything very seriously. He sort of floated through life, seemingly untouched by most things. So to see him on edge, as he so obviously was, instantly made me nervous. “What is it?” I asked, and gestured for him to come in. He flopped down in the chair opposite mine, the one across the desk, where Kaye had been sitting not so very long ago. “It’s hopeless,” Brent murmured, and it startled me badly to hear him say those words. I didn’t know hopeless was a word he even knew. Much like me, Brent was pretty amazing at getting what he wanted, regardless of who or what was set against him.

Why was Kaye so different? “It’s not hopeless.” I tried to cheer him up, but he just shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up. It was usually so neat. I’d never seen him this agitated. “It is. I can’t do it. She knows. I don’t think she knows everything, but she knows I’m trying to get her into bed.” There was more to it, though. Brent wouldn’t be so upset about this otherwise. “She can’t possibly know,” I argued. “She knows, and she’ll never go for it,” Brent continued, raising his eyes to meet mine. “Damn it, David, she’s too damn smart for her own good. I swear I didn’t push her too fast. I just tried to comfort her, hug her, tell her she was too good for you, and she flipped out at me.” Too good for me? The words made me faintly sick to my stomach. Weren’t they true? Kaye was a genuine person— maybe the first one, male or female—I had met in my entire life. I could hardly claim to be the same way, not with what I was pulling. She was too good for me. It would be better for both of us when all of this was over, so she could

move on and maybe find someone who actually did deserve her. Even thinking about it made me angry, but I tried to push it away. I had no claim on her. I didn’t want a claim on her. The whole point of this was to get her to give herself to someone else. What was wrong with me? “We have to push harder,” I realized. We would both lose out on all of this if she didn’t cave. We’d been treating her too gently, but clearly a bolder approach was called for. It was risky. It could end up costing us everything, but when I thought back to the night at the BDSM club, I thought I might have a way to minimize the risk. I thought about how Kaye had moaned and writhed for us, how she’d been so wet, hot, and tight as she clenched around me. “What are you thinking about?” Brent asked, and there was hope in his voice again. I was glad to see it, in a way. He had never been the type to give up and seeing him so close to surrender was odd and unsettling. I took a deep breath. This was yet another chance for me to back off, I knew that for sure. For me to just accept the wonderful wife fate had tossed into

my lap. It was tempting—more tempting every time the thought came up. Kaye was loyal. I had thought a woman could never be, but she was. She had shut Brent down before he’d even gotten very serious about going after her. Getting her to cheat on me was going to be harder than expected. It made my heart lighten in my chest to think about it. She would never betray me. I tried not to be so happy about the whole thing, but I was. If I let myself, I could be downright ecstatic. However. It was an awful lot of money for me to let go and we had come so far. Brent was still waiting for me, and I pulled myself together. Who was I kidding? As tempting as it was to just forget about the whole thing, I wanted what was mine, even if part of me did still wonder if it wasn’t too late to take her up on her offer of giving me half of what she’d inherited. Probably. How would I bring up the conversation? Besides, it would make her suspicious because we were married. What a mess.

“Okay. So do you remember the night at the club? Where we tied her up together?” Brent smirked suddenly and gave me a nod of acknowledgment, his eyes suddenly shining with what I could swear was arousal. That was a good thing, I told myself firmly. If he wanted her, he’d work harder to get her. Who wouldn’t want her? “I remember,” he murmured. I clenched my hands into fists in my lap and did my best not to launch myself over the table at the man who was so obviously fantasizing about Kaye. About my wife. “She was really into it.” I clenched my jaw to keep my voice from sounding too angry. I hoped. “So we can use it against her. I haven’t gotten too much more into BDSM with her …” Except for the one night where she’d gotten me out of my bad mood by giving herself to me—the night I’d cuffed her to the bed. My cock twitched and I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I had all sorts of highly contradictory emotions running through me and it was more than I could take. Anger, arousal, joy—it was all there, and it could make me unstable if I let it. “Oh, okay, I get it. So you think I should get her

alone and just try to dominate her?” From the sound of Brent’s voice and the way his face lit up, I could tell he liked the idea. I gave him a pitying look. Even after all of his interactions with her, did he not know Kaye at all? “No. She’d run screaming,” I spoke very surely, knowing it was true. There was bold and then there was outright reckless. His proposed plan was the latter. “Then what?” Brent was getting frustrated, and I sighed softly. If only there had been someone else to pick for this job. Brent was too reckless and impatient. Too handsome. Too charming. Too likely to succeed. Conflicted, I tried to pull myself together, but it was honestly hard for me to come to a firm decision about what I even wanted. Once more, I made the effort and pulled my thoughts together. I really was going insane, I could barely focus on our conversation. Kaye’s face kept drifting through my mind, utterly distracting me. “You and me, together.” I looked at him. “Just like the last time, only here. In our bedroom, so she

feels comfortable. I’ll tease her—play with her until she can’t think of anything but having someone inside her.” Once more, my cock swelled, and I shifted uneasily, glad for the desk that hid my arousal from Brent. “I think I get where you’re going,” Brent smirked, and I nodded at him slowly. “When she’s comfortable with my touch, you step in too. We both play with her, get her really going, and make her wet for us. Never quite kiss her or touch her where she really wants to be touched though.” “Holy Christ, you’re devious,” Brent acknowledged, and he seemed almost admiring of my terrible brain. “Once she’s really desperate and barely knows what’s going on, I’ll leave.” I swallowed down the bile creeping up my throat, hating myself for this plan—hating myself because I knew there was a good chance it would work. It was such a betrayal, and she trusted me so much. It wasn’t the sort of thing a Dom should do to his sub—it was against all of the rules. Really, it was just a shitty, terrible thing to do to another human

being. Especially to one who genuinely seemed to love me with everything in her warm, loving, generous heart. “Leaving her with me,” Brent said, grinning wider. “She’ll be so wet, maybe I can even get her to beg to take my cock.” I didn’t wince. Very deliberately, I held my face completely expressionless and even forced a nod. It was, after all, the basic idea. He didn’t have to be so damn crude about it, though. Kaye was my wife. I had been the only man she’d ever been with. Was he so completely clueless? “She is only human after all,” I added as I thought about my wife shaking with desperation for my fat cock to fill her and take her all the way to the place only I could. “I think it’s our only chance. She’s too …good.” There was something about the way Brent said those words. I didn’t like it. It was almost reverent, like he too was being drawn almost unwillingly into admiration for my lovely, sweet wife. Of course, it was a ridiculous thought. Brent had never had much in the way of admiration, beyond the purely physical, for any woman. But I looked at

him, trying to read his eyes. I didn’t like it. Brent looked back at me and there was still this look. Something about Kaye. I couldn’t quite read it, but I was fairly certain it could mean trouble for me. No. I didn’t care about Kaye. I didn’t love her, and I never would. I shouldn’t even be thinking about her as my wife—our marriage wasn’t real. What did I care how Brent was coming to feel about her? It was probably just my imagination anyway. What could the chances even be? Brent would never fall for any woman, but if he did, it wouldn’t be someone who still held on to so much of her innocence. Brent would be bored to tears by a woman like her. Of course, I would have thought the exact same thing about myself. One thing was utterly crucial. I couldn’t fall in love with her. It was the one thing I would never, ever allow myself to do. It loomed in my mind even larger than the money did. I had to keep my head about me. I couldn’t let her into my heart. I would do anything to keep myself from doing that. I would pull out all the stops. I would force my

wife into my best friend’s arms, just to keep myself from really, truly falling for her. It wasn’t too late. So we made our plans, and I fought down the sickening feeling trying to claim me.

Chapter 17 Kaye I put my book aside when David came into our room. There was a strange, restless sort of energy in every movement he made and every step he took, and it would have been impossible for me to read him even if I had tried. Was it possible he had given more thought to what I’d asked him about us starting a family? Had he maybe rethought his position? I sat up in bed, my eyes fixed on him, barely daring to breathe. I didn’t speak. My entire focus was on David, because whatever he said next, I knew I wasn’t going to want to miss even a second of it. A baby. I wanted it so badly. I had always wanted to have children eventually, like most women. And here I was, married to the love of my life, and eventually felt like it should be now.

So I waited, and eventually, David spoke. He stood over me, hands on his hips, looming, refusing to sit on the bed. “I’m inviting Brent into our bedroom.” His gaze was forceful, almost defiant. “Just like when we were together at the club.” There was a brief pause and then he added, “Now.” My head spun and the whole world seemed to reel crazily around me. The first time we’d ventured into uncharted territory in the BDSM world, it had felt like I’d had a choice. Like I could walk away from it all and nothing would happen. Not this time. This time, I was being informed it was going to happen. Informed by His Majesty, King David. Told about it, as though he just assumed I would be compliant. Did he seriously think that I was that weak-willed? Did he believe in his heart of hearts that he had married a woman who would be submissive at all times? I would be submissive only when I decided to. And that would not ever be a permanent thing. Anger had never been an emotion with which I was particularly familiar. I could do annoyance, and maybe, if pressed, irritation. Full on rage, however,

was something I honestly couldn’t remember ever feeling before. I felt it then as I looked at my husband, his chin jutting out defiantly. His chest puffed out as if he was lord and master of me. Well, he was about to find out just who he had married. For better or worse. “No,” I stated, no hint of compromise in my voice. “No, Brent will not be coming into this bedroom, not now—not ever.” Enough was enough. Hadn’t I just decided, after what had happened with Brent, that I would never allow him to touch me again? He would certainly never see me naked. “Kaye …” David’s voice took on a tone of warning, but I wasn’t interested in hearing it. “Listen to me.” I shook my head. “No! You listen to me,” my voice had turned into little more than a hiss. It was strange to hear, but I wasn’t about to let it stop me. “I’m telling you.” I glared at him, letting him know I was not to be played with. “Brent will never be welcome in our bed. Not ever.” He looked at me as though stunned. His lips parted, then closed. King David was finding out his crown

was but a ploy. He was ruler of no one. “Not ever?” I frowned, studying his face. What was going on here? Why was he so caught up in this obsession with sharing me with Brent again? “Sometimes,” I spoke very slowly. “It’s like you’re trying to push me away. Like you want me in his arms instead of your own. I don’t get it.” I gazed at him, taking in every bit of him. His handsome face, his strong, muscular body, and the tormented look deep in his dark eyes. He didn’t deny what I said, and I sighed softly and shook my head. “What is this, David? I love you. Are you trying to push me away for some reason? Please don’t.” He still didn’t say anything, so I whispered, “I love you. Flaws and all, I love you.” I stopped talking to give him a chance to say something. Anything. He still didn’t react. I felt a little like I was talking to a stone wall, except for those eyes, which watched me and seemed almost pained. I couldn’t even start to guess why, but I had to make him understand. “You’re the only man I want. If you want to tie me up and dominate me, I would love it. But no one else. Not Brent, not anyone. Not ever. I will never have another man in my bed.”

He continued to say nothing, to do nothing, as though frozen in place. I shook my head. Words weren’t getting through to him, so actions were going to have to. Without hesitation, I rose up onto my knees on the bed, so I was at the right level to fling my arms around him. I kissed him, opening my mouth to him and moaning when he plunged his tongue inside my hot mouth. He was shaking a little, I realized. I hadn’t noticed before, but this close, I couldn’t miss it. His breath was hard and fast, like an animal panting. His arms, as they closed around me, held me so tightly I could barely breathe. He wanted me. I could tell, not only from his rapid breathing. When I pressed against him, he was hard, throbbing, and obvious even through his pants. And there was desperation in the way he held me. “You’re mine, Kaye,” he growled, and the desire was very clear in his voice. I knew how he sounded when he was turned on, and my own body flowed with arousal in response to his. “You’ll do what I tell you to do.” Has this man lost his damn mind?

I stared at him. Yes, I was very wet, and if he’d wanted me for himself, I would have given myself to him in a second. The things he was saying, though, were a different matter entirely. “What do you mean?” I whispered, looking into his eyes, my hips still pressed tightly against his arousal. The sexual tension was thick between us, and I wanted him to just give this whole crazy idea up, to throw me on the bed, and to take me. Maybe tie me up, too. “I mean I’m bringing Brent in.” His chest heaved with his intense, rapid breaths. He stared into my eyes, challenging me. “You’ll do what you’re told, Kaye. You’re mine, and if I say Brent is joining us, then you’ll take it and you’ll like it.” I couldn’t believe the words spewing from my husband’s mouth. I couldn’t actually be hearing what I thought I was hearing. This man was supposed to love me. How dare he speak to me like that? “We’re going to tease you,” he continued, almost taunting me. “We’re going to do whatever we like to your body, and you’re going to thank us for it by the end.” With those last words, he officially crossed a line with me. It was bad enough that he didn’t seem to

care about whether I wanted any of this or not, but to suggest Brent could fuck me if he wanted to? To pretty much outright say I would be expected to allow him to if David wanted it? Never. I pulled away from him and slapped him across the face. Hard. I had never, not in my entire life, slapped anyone across the face, but I was willing to start. In this one situation, I had no problem putting my normal pacifistic self aside, at least for a few seconds. “How dare you?” I asked, and the question was genuine. I honestly didn’t understand where was coming from, saying the things he was saying. He stared at me in shock, one cheek bright red, so I slapped him across the other for good measure. I felt sick to my stomach, but also deeply gratified. Hopefully the slaps would teach him a little bit about who I was, since he apparently didn’t already know. “Kaye, I own you,” he insisted, and my eyes narrowed as I glared at him. God, I loved this man, but he drove me insane sometimes. What game was he playing here? I could swear I had been right before and he was

trying to push me into Brent’s arms. It would all make sense—how cold he was to me and how he kept wanting me to share myself with Brent. Maybe it was my imagination, but whatever the case was, I had had enough. He was acting insane, and until he could be more reasonable, there was really only one thing for me to do. “Get out,” I whispered, and my eyes prickled with sudden tears. I blinked them back. I was crying far, far too much these days and enough was enough. I was no victim. “Kaye, what …?” His voice was stunned, and I was glad. Let him know what it felt like, for once, to feel uncertain and off balance. He’d been doing it to me since our wedding day. Time for him to taste some of his own medicine. “You heard me. Get out! You don’t own me. I love you, but that doesn’t give you any excuse to speak to me the way you are right now. I choose what happens to my body, David, not you. So you can leave until you can behave like a reasonable human being.” David blinked, and I knew my fury had surprised him. Good. Maybe he’d think twice before trying to pull this crap again.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” he asked, and I just shook my head. I wasn’t going to let his unspoken plea move me. “I don’t care,” I told him. “Somewhere else. You need to think about what you want, David, and until you do, I want you out of my sight.” He left, then, and I watched him go—watched him slam the door shut behind him. Only then did I collapse onto the bed, sobbing softly. The anger left me and only sadness remained—a deep sadness that still couldn’t quite numb me to the horror of the conversation I’d just had with my boneheaded husband. If only I could stop loving him. If only I could stop caring about the bleak sadness I’d seen in his eyes when I’d ordered him out.

There was so much in his past. Maybe I had been expecting too much, to think he would have no issues. His mother had left him. He probably thought I was going to do the same. The things he’d said to me weren’t okay. I was no pushover and I would not be forced into something I didn’t want to do. I’d done the right thing in letting him know I wouldn’t stand for it, and sending him away so he could think about it was only logical. Hopefully, he would think quickly. The truth was, I missed him already. It was ridiculous—he’d only been gone about thirty seconds—but I did. I missed how it was when it was good between us. I missed how warm and comfortable and amazing it could be. Crying, I fell into a thin sleep, but even as I dozed, I knew I wouldn’t really be able to sleep unless I had David in bed with me. It wasn’t going to be quite right until this, our first major fight, was patched up. Until then, I just had to comfort myself with my own words to Brent. Every relationship, every marriage, had issues sometimes. It didn’t mean we were over—far from it.

It was a comfort, but only in a very thin, unsatisfying way.

Chapter 18 David I loved her. The emotion was right there, right in my heart and mind, as if it had been there the whole time. Perhaps it had. Maybe the fight I’d just had with Kaye had pulled a concealing cloth free to let me look at what I was actually feeling. It was highly disturbing. For thirty years, I’d lived without love. Oh, I’d loved my father, and even my grandfather. But I’d never loved a woman—not in any way—until Kaye had strolled into my life and messed everything up. Well, to be fair, I strolled into her life, and I was the one who had set about getting to know her and plotting to marry her. Always the saint, that woman. Never the sinner. I couldn’t stop moving. My whole body felt like it was burning, smothered in embers that would give me no rest. I loved her. I loved my wife—the one

thing I had thought impossible when I came into this had happened. So why was I doing this? Why didn’t I just let the whole plan go? Brent would mock me mercilessly, but I almost didn’t care. Almost. God, what was I going to do? My mind turned first one way, then another. I could give up the plan. I loved Kaye. But love wasn’t enough. Love wasn’t worth billions of dollars. I couldn’t decide. The sheets tangled around my legs, and I smoothed them out only to get them all messy again. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t lay still. The guestroom bed was soft and comfortable, but it might as well have been made out of rusty nails and hornets for all the rest I got from it. I’d been so sure of myself. Pushing Kaye had seemed the logical thing to do, and now here I was, sent to sleep in the guest room. I had pushed too hard, and for the first time, I let myself consider something terrible. What if I didn’t get either? I had been expecting to lose her the whole time, but

what if I lost her and the money? She obviously wasn’t impressed with me, and when I thought of all the things I’d said to her, I couldn’t even blame her. Maybe I should go talk to her. Not because I was going to give in. Nothing of that sort. Just to try to repair things. To take her back off of the defensive. It only made sense, right? I sat up. This was ridiculous. The whole thing. Yes, I’d pushed a bit too hard, but there was no reason I needed to be fighting with my wife. I would go to her, maybe even apologize, and tell her I was under a lot of stress. Kaye would understand. She always did. That was just one of many reasons I had fallen in love with her against my will. Just as I was swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, intending to stand, the door opened. Kaye walked in, her eyes red and slightly puffy, like she’d been crying. As much as I tried to harden my heart against her, the sight touched me. “Kaye,” I whispered, but she shook her head. She walked over to me, her face strange and dreamy, and for a moment I was absolutely certain she was going to hit me again.

She didn’t. Instead, she climbed into my lap, straddling my hips and wrapping her slender arms around me. Her body settled, warm and feminine and fragrant, in my lap, and her lips found mine. The kiss started off soft, both of us trying it out to see if it fit after the huge fight we’d had. It quickly grew and changed as we both figured out it did. If anything, we fit better than ever. She was so eager and pliant in my arms, her kisses sweet, but with definite heat to them. It was like we were both trying to make up for the fight, forget it, and move on. Maybe I hadn’t messed up too badly after all. Maybe there was still hope. Though for what, I wasn’t entirely sure. It was enough to lose myself in her, at least for the moment. So I cupped the sweet, round curve of her ass and pulled her body toward me. She yielded to me, and it seemed impossible to think we had been fighting only a short time ago. “David. David, I love you,” Kaye murmured into the kiss, her breath hot on my lips. She rubbed against me, and I could feel her slick wetness as she moved. She hadn’t bothered putting on any

underwear before coming here, and I was glad for it. “I love you too, Kaye,” I whispered back, and it was the first time I’d said the words and allowed myself to acknowledge how much I meant them. Maybe she heard the sincerity in my voice because she smiled at me and pushed me back onto the bed. She went with me, staying on top of me, and kissing me as though we could somehow become one person instead of two. I wasn’t used to having a woman on top of me. I wasn’t used to giving a woman any sort of control over me. In this one situation, though, it felt okay. No, not okay. It felt amazingly perfect. It felt like the best thing that could happen right then. For awhile, at least, it was heaven. Letting her grind her slick clit down against my cock—letting her use me—it was incredible. But soon, it wasn’t enough. I had to taste her. She was so small and it was so easy for me to flip her onto her back, even with the leverage she had being on top of me. I held her there and once more she yielded to me, giving me back control. She had shown me, though, that she wouldn’t just do whatever I said. Yes, she had submissive

tendencies, but she also had a mind of her own. Trying to force her to take Brent to bed wasn’t going to work. Right then, I was nothing but glad about that fact. I slid down her body, caressing it with my fingers, my lips, and my tongue, working my way over her luscious curves and worshiping them all. My tongue flicked over her navel, and she moaned, only encouraging me to continue. “David,” she whispered, and I smiled. I loved the way she said my name when she was really, truly aroused. “David, more, please. Don’t stop.” I had no intention of stopping. Without hesitation, I shifted between her legs, inhaling the heavenly scent of her. I gazed up at her, met her eyes, saw her looking right back at me, and lowered my head so my lips brushed over her clit. The taste of her—sweet and feminine—filled my mouth, and I moaned softly as I worked on her. For a few moments, she let me, moaning and writhing up against my mouth, then she reached down and gripped my head. “I can’t take it,” she whispered. “David, I need you inside me. Right now.”

How was I supposed to resist that, especially when it was what I needed more than anything else in the world right then? I needed the connection to her and only being buried inside of her and having her come over and over again on my cock was going to be able to give me what I really wanted. I’d scared myself. When she had kicked me out, I had thought maybe I had lost her completely. It was a terror that had nothing to do with my grandfather’s money either. “God, Kaye,” I murmured, then gripped her by the hips and turned us both over so I was on my back and she was perched on top of me. “I love you. Fuck yourself on me.” With a glad little cry, she sank down on me. Slipping inside of her was so easy. She felt like satin around me, so tight and hot, and I gripped her hips, pushing up into her as much as I could. “Kaye,” I moaned, rocking slowly, but she had the control. Maybe she needed it, after the things I’d said to her. Maybe, on some level, we both needed it. She rode me, and luckily, she seemed to be as worked up as I was. She clenched tightly around me, her body starting to writhe, impaled on my

cock, and I gazed up at her in wonder. Part of me couldn’t believe this glorious, beautiful, sexy woman was mine. This loyal, sweet, competent, wonderful woman. “David, I’m so close,” she moaned, and I gripped her hips more tightly and started to thrust up more demandingly into her. I was right on the edge as well, and I wanted us to come together. It was always better that way. The first wave of pleasure gripped my body, and I tensed up as I spilled inside of her. Not even a second later, she stiffened and cried out, and it was like her tight channel was milking me for my fluids, drawing out my release. It was always so much better with her. I was no virgin. I’d been with quite a few women, but most of them had wanted to use me for my money. I’d had no issue with using them in return. The sex with them was almost a business arrangement. With Kaye, it was so different. She put me so effortlessly into this blissful state. When I was this optimistic, it seemed like things might just work out somehow. “David, I love you. I love you so much,” Kaye whispered, and she cuddled up beside me, her head

on my chest. I knew she could hear my heart, which was beating so fast it had to almost sound like thunder. “I love you too.” I spoke only the truth on this subject. I did love her. It was terrifying and part of me wanted to run for the hills, but more of me wanted to stay and bask in her comforting presence. I had never taken comfort from a woman before, not since I was a baby. And it had been a long time since I had allowed anyone at all to comfort me. I took care of myself and I looked out for myself first, just like everyone did. Or so I had assumed before I met Kaye, who took care of everyone. Should I just let myself fall and trust her to catch me? If I could trust anyone in the world, I knew it would be her. It would be so easy. Terrifyingly easy. Kaye dropped off to sleep, but I couldn’t rest. I just watched her, listening to the sound of her light, exhausted breathing. How such a woman had gotten to me so thoroughly, I had no idea, but she was deep into my very skin. Maybe I should just give the whole plan up and let

myself have this amazing woman who, for some unknown reason, loved me. I could let myself love her back and see where this crazy ride of a marriage took us. One thing I knew for certain—I would never find a woman I could love more than I loved her. I knew that now. I would never find anyone I could trust as much as I could trust her. It was tempting to drop the whole plan. To just live and love the woman in my arms—my wife. Maybe nothing bad would happen to us. Maybe we would be the exception to the rule I had in my head about marriages: that they never ended well. One day she would see me for the man I really was —that was my biggest fear. If Brent got pissed at me for cutting him out of the deal we had made, he might tell Kaye what I had done. She would leave me if he did that. I was sure she would. Kaye could never find out what I had done—how I had wooed her and fooled her into thinking I loved her. But now I did love her for real. Maybe I always had. Maybe I had only been lying to myself and not her at all.

Her breathing changed as she moved a bit, snuggling in closer to me. Her voice was but a murmur, “David, I love you so much. I hate fighting with you. Let’s not do that anymore.” Kissing the top of her head, I said, “I love you too. Let’s never fight again. Night, baby.” How I wished that we could actually never fight again. All couples fight. That’s just a fact. But, damn it, she and I sure knew how to make up, didn’t we?

Chapter 19 Kaye I had been humming to myself from almost the moment I rose in the morning and stepped out of bed. Even the confusion of finding myself passed out in the guest room hadn’t been able to take the spring out of my step. Even as I looked around the room that was so strange to me, I knew that everything was okay, as David was there with me. His chest was rising and falling as he continued to sleep, a slight smile on his handsome face. We’d made up, and we’d done it in grand fashion. Never had I felt so much love radiating out of the man.

We would work things out. David wasn’t perfect, but he was the man I loved, and I thought the things we’d said and done the previous night were actually quite hopeful. Any marriage would have bumpy patches, but I was just as determined as ever to stick it out. The way David had reacted to me, I couldn’t help but feel like he was feeling the same way. It was like we’d recommitted to each other. Or it felt like it, anyway. A little while later David was in the shower and I was making us breakfast. I had the day off work, and spending it with my husband seemed like the absolute best use of my time. With my hands on my hips, I glanced around at the pancakes, bacon, and eggs I had going all at once. Maybe I’d gone a little overboard, but I liked cooking. I liked cooking for my husband even more. A light knock came at the door and my good mood instantly retreated a little bit. It didn’t completely go away, but I was definitely wary. There was only one person I could imagine coming to our house this early and he wasn’t a person I was sure I wanted to speak to right at that moment.

Still, I went to the door and slowly opened it. What was the worst that could happen, really? Brent had never forced anything on me. His only crime was being perhaps a bit too interested in me, and hopefully, I’d nipped that right in the bud. “Kaye, good.” Brent gave me one of his charming smiles, but there seemed to be a hint of anxiety in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re alone. I wanted to talk to you.” I looked at him thoughtfully, then nodded. He didn’t seem to be looking at me inappropriately, and if we could have this all out, it would be better. Brent was a part of David’s life, and I honestly didn’t want to get in the way of their friendship. I had seen how hard it was for David to really connect with people, and Brent was one of the few he actually called his friend. “Please come in,” I finally decided, hoping I didn’t regret the decision. I stepped aside to let him enter and walked back to the kitchen. “Can I get you some coffee?” He agreed, and soon enough we sat at the table, facing each other. Brent looked more serious than I was used to seeing him, and I sipped at my coffee and waited. He had, after all, come to see me. He could tell me what this was all about.

“I wanted to apologize,” he admitted, and my eyebrows rose. I hadn’t expected anything of the sort. It was a real apology, as opposed to his ‘I’m sorry you feel that way’ that he’d tossed my way casually before. This one seemed much sincerer. When I opened my mouth to speak, he raised his hand, and I subsided. There was some sort of dominant energy about this man—something that pretty much demanded I do as he said. David had it, too, and I found it fascinating. But not intimidating. I could hold my own and had proven that. I also admired that in the men. At least when it wasn’t being used to try to force me to do things I didn’t want to do. “Just let me get this out. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” He looked at me earnestly across the table, and for some reason, I found I believed him. He seemed awfully sincere. “If I made you feel that way, I am deeply sorry. I’ll be more careful.” I let out a soft sigh of relief. Maybe things would be okay after all. I had liked Brent before, and pushing away a potential new friend hadn’t been easy. I just wasn’t willing to give him the wrong impression. I wanted him to know, without a doubt, that I was in love with my husband and I would never be with

another man in any way, shape, or form. “It’s okay,” I assured him and gave him a smile. I didn’t reach over and touch his hand, though, like I normally would have done. It had taken very little to encourage him before, and I was still just a little bit wary. As I had every right to be. Not many men were so forward with their friend’s wife. “I hope we can still be friends,” Brent commented, and I nodded, smiling more widely. It was exactly what I wanted too. I wanted my friends to be David’s friends, and vice versa. Which made me think—could I carry this whole friend-making thing to a new level? I had an idea and it might just be the most brilliant idea of all time, especially because I knew my friends could hold their own and wouldn’t be too intimidated by Brent, even as handsome as he was. “Me too. Actually, speaking of friends …I have a couple of single ones,” I admitted. “Maybe you could meet them.” As a matchmaking attempt went, it was pretty transparent. I was absolutely sure he knew just what I was doing, and he shot me this devastating, wicked little grin and nodded.

“I’d like that,” he admitted. “If you think they can handle me.” He even shot me a little wink, but it made me laugh. It was just so over the top, there was no way it could be seen as an attempt to seduce me. He probably couldn’t help flirting, at least a little. I wasn’t going to encourage him, but I did find it sort of funny. “I could have a party. I haven’t entertained here,” I realized. “I’m sure David wouldn’t mind. I’ll check with him. We could invite his friends and my friends and have some fun.” He’d extended me an olive branch, and this was my way of accepting it and letting him know it was okay. I didn’t hold any grudges. We could still be friends, as long as there were no more incidents. “I’d like that,” he murmured and he smiled at me. I smiled back and my heart felt lighter within me. Things were back to how they should be. I had never liked the idea of being at odds with my husband’s best friend, and if things kept going as they were, I wouldn’t have to.

DAVID

CAME

in soon after and he nodded at Brent in

greeting. There was a strange look on his face, like he wasn’t entirely happy to see the man, but it was probably just my imagination. Surely David knew he had no reason to be jealous, after the incredible night we’d just had in each other’s arms. Well, I definitely didn’t want to cause any trouble, so while I was polite to Brent, I made sure most of my attention was on David. I chatted with both of them and we ate a nice, relaxed, comfortable breakfast together. Brent had to go to work afterward, so while David and I cleaned up the kitchen together, it was just the two of us. I figured it was a good time to ask him about the party. “I think Brent’s lonely,” I admitted, scraping some plates into the garbage. I loaded them in the dishwasher, smiling a little. It was nice to be doing even this sort of boring, domestic chore, at least while I was with David. “I think you’re right,” David replied, and then looked at me with his eyebrows arched, as though to ask what the point of my statement was. Turning to look at him, I smiled a little. He was so handsome—as sexy to me in the kitchen as he was

in the bedroom. Maybe even more so here, because it was everything about him that appealed to me, not just his physical body. “We should throw a little party. We never had an engagement party or a housewarming party,” I pointed out, leaning against the counter. He arched an eyebrow at me, a slight smirk quirking his lips upward. “Okay, Kaye, what’s this really about?” he asked, and I had to laugh. He could see right through me sometimes. I probably didn’t have an incredible career ahead of me as a spy or anything. “I have single friends,” I admitted, grinning at him. “And, you know, Brent’s single. Maybe he’d be happier if he got with someone special.” The strangest look crossed his face, like he was somehow conflicted—like part of him wanted Brent to be with someone else and part of him didn’t. It probably had something to do with him being afraid his best friend might have less use for him when he wasn’t single. Something like that. “Did you ask him about it?” David asked, his expression thoughtful. I nodded, and David gave a little shrug. He considered it, then grinned at me and nodded back. “I think it sounds like a really good idea,” he murmured, and there was a strange,

almost furtive light in his eyes, as though part of him was ashamed by what he was doing. Probably just my imagination. Why would he think he shouldn’t hook Brent up with one of my friends? I was getting paranoid and seeing things that weren’t there. “Okay,” I murmured and sidled over to him, nuzzling my face against his strong, warm chest. I could hear the beating of his heart, just as I had the previous night, and it comforted me deeply. He put his arm around me and I snuggled into him. “I’ll arrange it, then,” I continued smiling. This was going to be fun. It had been a long time since I’d done something that was just for fun with my friends, and hopefully if all went well, I’d end up helping one of them out too. Joan, maybe? Or Angela? Or maybe neither of them, if they didn’t like Brent. I honestly didn’t see how they couldn’t, though. Even when he’d been slightly less than appropriate with me, his behavior had really only been questionable because I was already married. My friends didn’t have the same impediment, and I couldn’t help but grin as I thought of it. Even if nothing happened, it should be a good time.

Something told me the party would be eventful, though. I wasn’t sure what it was. Call it some sort of intuition. I just had the idea something would happen, I just wasn’t sure what. Hopefully, it was something good. Clinging onto my husband, breathing his musky, masculine scent, I wanted this for everyone. For all of my friends. I wanted them all to be even half as happy as I was, and that went for Brent too. It went for everyone in the whole world. I held David and he held me, and for one moment at least, everything was completely perfect.

David Kaye wanted to set Brent up with someone. Damn it. She was supposed to be thinking of Brent at least somewhat romantically by now. Or, at least, she was supposed to want him sexually. What on earth was she doing wanting to hook him up with one of her friends? It defied all of my expectations. And made me far too happy. Happiness was dangerous, and I knew that for a fact. Dad had been happy with mom once upon a time, until she’d left us both behind to do only God knew what. She

had never bothered to let us know anything about her, other than that she wanted a divorce from my father and didn’t want custody of me. I thought maybe I had accidentally shown just a little bit too much of my disappointment to Kaye. There had been a look in her eyes, sort of thoughtful, that made me think I hadn’t hidden my emotions as well as I might have wished. How amazing would it be if Brent did fall for one of Kaye’s friends? I’d met them a few times and they all seemed lovely. Nowhere near as perfect as Kaye, of course, but who was? Brent would fall for one of them, maybe, and then … And then what? I’d be out a lot of money. To say I was understatement.

conflicted

was

a

definite

I didn’t know how to feel. I should be pissed off because Kaye was trying to set Brent up with someone else, but I was actually kind of relieved about it too. Confusing, to say the least. “Hey, man.” Speak of the devil. Or, in this case, think about him. It was Brent, poking his head into

my office, strangely reserved and almost sheepish as he slunk in when I waved to him. “What’s up?” I asked, and I could tell something definitely was. I had rarely seen Brent as agitated as he was, fiddling with his own fingers and running his hands over his legs as he seated himself. “I have a confession,” Brent admitted, and he focused his eyes on mine, but it was like he was forcing himself to do it. “Spit it out.” I tried not to grit my teeth. Whatever this was, I was absolutely certain by his reaction I wasn’t going to like it. Better to get it out of the way so we could focus on damage control. I had no idea what to expect, but what he said next wouldn’t have made it onto my list of ten guesses, if I had made one. It wouldn’t have made it even onto a list of a hundred. “When I seduce Kaye, I want to keep her,” Brent spoke quietly, as though ashamed of himself, but firmly, as though resigned to the shame. As though what he was saying was worth it. “You want to do what?” I asked, feeling suddenly quite faint, my head spinning. I couldn’t have heard him right, or he was messing with me, or I was misunderstanding.

This can’t actually be happening. “I like Kaye a lot. I think I might even …I’ve never loved a woman before, but if I could love one, it would be her.” He looked at me, and I looked back, utterly dumbfounded. This was Brent—the most devoted bachelor in the world, one who was never seen in the company of the same woman more than a few times. The things coming out of his mouth were absolutely ludicrous in the face of his entire personality. “You want to keep her?” I didn’t even recognize my own voice. It came out small and stifled and my heart barely seemed to be beating. My breathing was very slow as I almost held it to listen to his response. “She’s one in a million,” Brent murmured, and he got this little smile on his face, one I could almost swear couldn’t be faked. I’d never seen him smile in exactly that way before and it would have been fascinating in any other situation. “I hope it doesn’t offend you, but I want her. I just …wanted you to know. I’m going to keep her for myself.” He wasn’t even asking my permission, I realized. This was something Brent fully intended to do, and what he was telling me—in his own subtle way— seemed to be that he had no intention of changing

his mind, no matter what I thought about it. And I was taking it pretty well, all things considering. Or I thought I had been, until I found myself on my feet, looming over Brent’s seat, bending over the desk, and glaring at him as though my expression could somehow keep this all from happening. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” I said. Well, no. I didn’t say it. I yelled it, and I was glad for the good construction of the house, which should keep this conversation relatively private. But my voice kept rising and I fought it for a short time, but ultimately lost the battle. I was soon screaming at him, looming over him, and he rose to his feet to face me. “You can’t just take my fucking wife, you son of a bitch,” I growled, and I only realized my hands had clenched into tight fists when I saw his doing the same. He was getting ready to protect himself against me, and I wasn’t entirely sure he had no cause. I wanted to rip him apart. My rage roared through me, a wild beast that wouldn’t be tamed. This man dared to come into my house and tell me he was going to just keep my wife! Of course I was going to be mad.

“David …” Brent still wasn’t backing down. The bastard was standing his ground, even in the face of my anger. More than ever before, I found myself having to fight down the urge to tear him apart. It was another battle I was losing, I feared. When I saw his defiance, I moved around my desk, almost jumping over it as though it wasn’t even there. It had been all there was to protect him from me, and in seconds, it was behind us both. I stood in front of him, hands still clenched into fists. I was going to destroy this man. Maybe I would even kill him for the things he had dared to say about my Kaye. “Shut up,” I snarled. “Don’t talk to me, you son of a bitch. You stay the fuck away from my wife.” Brent didn’t cower back. He probably didn’t have it in him. He was naturally a dominant person, even more than I was, and he stood up straight and tall, icy cold in the face of my fiery fury. “You’re acting crazy,” Brent commented, almost offhandedly, where most people would have been trying to get away from me. I could be sort of intense, even when I wasn’t this utterly furious.

I just snarled at him, anger robbing me of my voice. My body tensed, flushed through with a fury that actually felt pretty good and numbed everything else I could be feeling. But he was once more undeterred. “David, calm the hell down,” Brent demanded, and I tensed up, my whole body wanting to launch itself at him. I held myself back. Barely. It was quite hard not to knock the living shit out of the man I had considered my best friend for years. “You’re acting completely insane. Why do you care so much?” The question took me aback, and I actually stepped backward a few paces. Something about his certainty undermined me, and I listened, still furious but not quite as unreasonable about it—a little bit back from homicidal. Why do I care so much? The plan was for me to have a legitimate reason to leave Kaye after all. Why couldn’t Brent keep her? Oh, yeah, because I fucking love her, that’s why! “I just do.” I managed to find my voice, and Brent actually had the nerve to smirk at me. “That’s bullshit. You’re acting like a jealous husband. Like this marriage is real to you or something. Are you really in love with her?”

He was so bold, and it froze my tongue again, making me choke back any words. To hear my conflicting feelings said aloud by another human being freaked me the fuck out. I had only ever said those words to Kaye, and I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone else. Especially not Brent, who was supposed to be in this whole thing with me. Instead, he was busy falling for Kaye, too. Things had officially gotten too messy for me to deal with. “I …I …I …” that was all I could muster. A smirk curved his lips—lips that wanted to kiss my wife. “If you do love her, then you need to think about what you’re doing.” Brent was actually lecturing me, and it should have infuriated me more than ever. Maybe it did, on some level, but I was also just listening to every word he said. “You could call this plan off right here and now and just be with the woman you love.” He had purposely provoked my jealousy. The sneaky bastard. And one hell of a best friend. I backed off as the urge to hit him retreated. I fell into my chair and my eyes were fixed on him, but I was hardly seeing him. Why wasn’t I calling the whole plan off? From what Brent was saying, he would back right off if I made the decision not to go through with it, and I could have Kaye all to myself.

I was in love, but what it came down to was simple. Love wasn’t forever. I had my own mother’s example to prove it. She had been in love with my father once, at least presumably, and I knew he’d been in love with her. Love doesn’t last. What did last, at least if managed right, was money —money and the legacy I would build in my grandfather’s name. My father’s too. Women wouldn’t stay around, but the money would. “Fine.” My voice was dull and flat, and I refused to look at the other man. “Fine. I don’t give a shit. Take her. Do what you want with her. It’s none of my business, as long as you hold up your end of the deal and seduce her in the first place.” If Kaye ever did cheat on me, as the plan was meant to make her do, I couldn’t be around her anyway. She had held out this long, but what were the chances she would continue to do so? She was sweet and loving and loyal, but she was also human. “Are you sure?” Brent asked, and I could hear eagerness in his voice. He was a good friend, though, I supposed. He cared enough to let me know what his plans were, so that was something. “I’ll back right off. You just need to give me the

word and she’s all yours.” Tempting. Far more tempting than I ever would have thought when I put this whole thing into motion in the first place. In the end, though, old habits won. Brent would seduce her—I couldn’t imagine a scenario where she didn’t eventually give in to him—and then I would want nothing to do with her anyway. “I’m sure,” I said, then sighed softly. “Get out of here, man. I have work to do.” Mercifully, he left, leaving me with my own shattered, depressed thoughts. I’d made the right choice. I knew it. But if that was the case, why did it feel so very wrong? Why did it nag at the edges of my mind, no matter how I tried to ignore it? Should I have told him the truth—that I loved Kaye and probably always had?

Chapter 20 Kaye I’d gone all out, decorating the lounge with some funky purple and green Mardi Gras decorations I’d found at a thrift shop in town. I didn’t want it to

feel pretentious. My friends weren’t wealthy, and I didn’t want anyone to feel any different than anyone else. It was working—everyone was getting along well. The party was hopping—the music was fun and upbeat. People were dancing, talking, drinking, and mingling all around me, but there was something very important missing from it for me. Something. Or, to be more accurate, someone. David wasn’t there. He’d said he would be here eventually, and I settled in to wait. At least the party was fun, and I got to watch Brent meeting my friends, talking to them, laughing, flirting, and just generally seeming to have a good time. Eventually, he and Angela paired off, and I smirked to myself. I’d sort of called it. My guess had been that, if he was going to be interested in any of my friends, it would be her. They had the same sort of sense of humor. The drinks were flowing freely and I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Angela and Brent would want to get to know each other better. They certainly seemed to be talking intently about something, though the music was far too loud for

me to be clear on what it was. After awhile, Angela broke away from Brent and grabbed herself a fresh drink. She came to sit down on the couch with me, and I smiled at her. She wanted to talk to me, obviously, and I thought I might have some idea why. What she said, however, was not something I expected. “What’s Brent’s deal?” I frowned. What did she mean? I arched an eyebrow, encouraging her to continue. “What do you mean, what’s his deal?” I really had no idea what she could mean. They seemed to be hitting it off so well. “I mean, what’s his obsession with you? Is he in love with you or something? David must be pissed off about that.” Her words dropped my heart into my feet. Was Brent really in love with me? And why the hell would he be? Why would he do that kind of thing to his best friend? Blushing, I shook my head. Angela didn’t know what she was talking about, that was all it was. Once, I might have thought she was right, but I’d

had a really good talk with him and I thought I had made myself quite clear about where we stood. “No way,” I insisted, and Angela gave me a deeply knowing look, one that irritated me immensely. “He does. He has a thing for you. He wouldn’t stop talking about you and asking about you …” Angela smirked at me. “You have yourself a problem, pretty lady. Married lady. Wow, two completely hot men have fallen in love with you right at the same time. What are the chances of that happening?” I had no idea what those chances might be. But I did know one thing for absolute certain: I loved David. I loved my husband. Brent was not going to derail our marriage, no matter how he felt about me. I bit my lower lip and looked over at Brent. He was looking over at us and he did seem to have a somewhat besotted look on his face. He could have been looking at Angela, though. “You’re crazy,” I told her affectionately, and she grinned at me and shrugged a little, as though to concede the point. But I wasn’t thinking she was the crazy one. It was probably Brent who was the nutty one. “Maybe. But it’s probably good David’s not here

anyway. He strikes me as a bit of the jealous type.” She frowned and looked around. “Where is your Prince Charming, anyway?” I bit back a sigh, covering it with a bright smile. No need to let her see how upset I would be if I let myself. It bugged me, though I would try to hide it. My husband couldn’t even be bothered to show up for our first party. “He’s just busy. He’s upstairs, doing work stuff.” I kept the smile pasted onto my lips instead of giving in to the frown trying to take over. I got it. David was obsessed with work and with making his company into a big deal. But so was Brent, and Brent was right there across the room, having a good time, and putting work to the side for a little while. Why couldn’t David do that too? “Huh.” Angela turned her gaze to me, and I wanted to shy away from her knowing eyes. She always did see too much, but I’d never had much I wanted to hide from her before. “Don’t you think that’s a little …well …strange?” I sighed softly. Truth be told, I did. It’s what I got for being married to someone who was so careerfocused, though. I had known it wouldn’t always be easy. But I didn’t want anyone to think badly about

my new husband. “No, it’s not weird for David. He’s a driven man. That’s what you get when you marry a man like him. I don’t mind it—really, I don’t.” Our conversation was interrupted, making me look up in surprise. “Hey! Kaye, Angela, are you in?” At some point, while we were talking, Brent had walked over to us. I had been so wrapped up in the conversation with my friend, I hadn’t even noticed. The man was stealthy, I had to give him that. “Are we in for what?” Angela pulled herself together before I did and even managed a slightly flirtatious smile for the handsome man. She always had enjoyed the sight of a beautiful male, and even I could see that Brent fell into that category. I wasn’t interested, but I had eyes. I wasn’t blind to how attractive he was. But David captivated me. Brent was merely nice to look at, and most of the time, nice to be around too. But my heart truly belonged to my husband. Of that, there was no doubt. “One of my favorite bars is just a ten minute or so drive away.” Brent grinned at us impishly. “They have karaoke there and we’re all just drunk enough to find it fun. Wanna come?” I’d had just enough to drink to make it sound like a

lot of fun. It had been a long time since I’d done something just because it sounded like a silly, fun, good time, but I knew I couldn’t go. “You guys go ahead.” I smiled at Angela. It was easy to tell she wanted to go. We were surrounded by people from work, and she was bound to have a good time. I couldn’t claim not to be at least a little bit envious though. “Are you sure?” Angela asked, and she leaned over and hugged me when I nodded firmly. Yes, I was sure. It sort of sucked, but it was the right thing to do. “Yeah, I’m sure. When David gets done with his work, we’ll catch up with you guys, maybe.” I smiled at both of them and watched as people trailed out of the house, off to the next fun thing. As everyone else filed out, I turned off the music. Silence ruled in the house and I let out a soft sigh to release some of the tension I was feeling. “Hey, you okay?” Brent asked, and I turned around, surprised. I had thought he’d left already, but there he was, standing a completely proper distance away from me and looking worried. Angela’s suspicions raced through my head, and I searched his face to try to see anything

inappropriate. I didn’t. He just seemed a little concerned. Nothing more. “Yes, of course,” I murmured, and just to have something to do, I started to clean up after the party. It was better than sitting around feeling sorry for myself. After all, this was my choice. David hadn’t forbidden me to go, or I surely would have gone just to spite him. Of course, in order for David to forbid me to do something, he would have to be around. I’d barely seen him at all, he’d been so lost in work. “You want to come,” Brent commented, and he wasn’t really asking a question. More making a statement of truth, and I couldn’t even deny his words. I did want to go do something silly and brainless, but I couldn’t. “Yes,” I admitted. There seemed little point in denying it. He obviously already knew the truth. “So, come. David won’t mind,” Brent coaxed. “It’ll be so fun, and way more so with you there. Everyone wants you to go. David’s so busy that he probably won’t even notice if you’re here or not.” Ugh. Probably true, as well. With how busy David was, I could probably strip naked and do a belly dance for him, and he wouldn’t even notice. He got

snarly when I even came into his office while he was working. So why not go? I could. Even if David did notice, I could send him a text or something, inviting him to come if he wanted to. I would be able to perfectly defend my actions, too, if he got into it with me. The least he could have done was come down to say hello to our guests. The more I thought about it, the ruder I found his absence. He could’ve at the very least come in for a few minutes, said hello to everyone, then excused himself. Hell, his friends were there too. But he hadn’t even bothered to do that much, and he’d known how much I was looking forward to this get-together. Brent was charming and breezy, and being around him would lead to a good time. With him and all of my friends around me, I knew I would have a much better time than if I sat around here sulking and cleaning up the mess. Maybe I should just do it. I looked down at the garbage I’d been collecting and I could picture myself doing it. Drop it. Deal with it later. Go out and salvage this evening for myself.

“No,” I suddenly said, not without regret. Maybe David was caught up in his work and he could have easily lost track of time. I often had to brave his wrath to bring him food, or he wouldn’t eat enough. I tried to think about how I’d feel if I got off of a long shift at work, only to find David had ditched me to go hang out with his friends. It would suck for him to come out of his workinduced fog, only to find himself alone in a very messy house. I wasn’t particularly happy with him, but I didn’t want him to go through that either. “Kaye …” Brent took a step closer to me, and I just as quickly took a step back, maintaining my distance from him. Once more, my friend’s words rang through my head. Was Brent in love with me? Better not to know. Better to think Angela was just being her typically dramatic self. I could be an ostrich with my head in the sand if I wanted to. There was really nothing wrong with that, if it saved a friendship, that is. “No, I’m just going to stay here and wait for my husband.” I made sure to emphasize the last word. My husband and Brent’s best friend. He really needed to keep those simple facts in mind.

Even if he did have feelings for me, it was never going to happen, and I utterly refused to give him any false hope on the matter. I was alone, and I was pretty miserable at my own party, but I wouldn’t do anything that might even have a chance of hurting David. “Okay.” Brent gave me one of those shiny, flashy smiles--the ones I’d already noticed he used to cover up whatever his true emotions were. In this case, I was just as happy to let him do it. If he did have any inappropriate feelings for me, it was just as well that he hid them from me, from David, and even from himself. He couldn’t help what he felt if he did feel anything, but he needed to know it was hopeless. “Have fun.” I gave him a big smile in return. I wasn’t as good at hiding what I was feeling as he was, but I did my very best. Gathering up handfuls of trash, I went into the kitchen. I could have found a different garbage can, of course, but I thought it best if the conversation with him was cut off right then. When I came back out to keep tidying up, he was gone. Despite my annoyance at having to miss the karaoke bar, I was glad he’d left.

I had done the right thing. David had every reason to be suspicious of women, and I wanted to give him no reason to doubt me. No reason at all.

David What was it going to take to get Kaye to be disloyal to me, in even the smallest of ways? What sort of woman was she that she would continually pick me? I kept giving her every possible reason to pull away from me, and yet she kept trying to stay close. I watched that night as the party ran its course. From a hidden place on the stairs, I watched and waited for the inevitable to happen. Brent was being so charming and Kaye would surely respond in some way. She never did though. Oh, she was sweet—as she was to everyone—and polite to Brent. I could tell she wanted to be friends with my best friend, but there was nothing more than that in her eyes when she looked at him. Not the slightest hint of impropriety in anything she did. She didn’t even go to the karaoke bar. Brent had

clearly cooked up a plan to get her away from the house and maybe to get more booze into her, but she was having none of it. Why didn’t she go? It made me feel funny when I heard her sweet voice turning Brent down once more. Even when she was assured I wouldn’t mind, she decided to stay, and I had to close my eyes to fight down a treacherous lurch of my heart. She loved me. If there had been any doubt at all remaining inside of me, it would have been blown away with this certainty. She loved me enough and was loyal enough to me to stay home while everyone else went out to have more fun—even when I was being a jerk to her. And she’d be right to go without me. I had purposely kept away from the party that I knew she wanted to be perfect. I wasn’t working like I’d told her I was. No, I was watching and hoping for complex things—things like that she’d show how she truly felt about me. Things like that she’d finally show that side of herself that we all have— the bad side. But Kaye didn’t seem to have a bad side. Could anyone be this good?

Was it possible for anyone to be the angel Kaye seemed to be? But all I could feel was absolute pleasure that she’d turned Brent down all on her own, telling him she wanted to wait for her husband. It sent chills down my spine as the love I had for her grew a bit more at that very moment in time. There probably should have been some anger mixed in with my pleasure. After all, she’d completely denied Brent the opportunity to try to get her into bed without my presence looming between them. She’d completely thwarted my plan once again. There was no room for anything but joy in my heart. Joy and guilt. What was I doing to her? I watched her move around the room, tidying it. Why not just tell her? I could almost picture it in my head. I could walk into the room, pull her into my arms, and kiss her with everything I had in me. I could tell her I needed to speak to her about something important. But then what? I had no idea how to even form the words. How could I tell her how I had planned to use and betray

her? How could I watch the love in her eyes turn to hatred? I was nothing but a coward, but I couldn’t do it. Kaye put the messy room into order quickly and turned toward the stairs—the stairs where I was hidden. I couldn’t help but think it would be pretty obvious what I was doing there. Time to go. Swiftly and silently, using the bend in the staircase to my advantage, I slipped away before she saw me. I saw her face, lovely but so tired and just a little sad, and then I was walking down the hallway to our bedroom. The storm that raged inside of me only grew as I paced around the room. I should tell her. I couldn’t tell her. I would for sure lose her if I did. It was the right thing to do though. I couldn’t settle on anything, and when Kaye walked into the room, I went to her immediately. I kissed her as though she could somehow soothe the fight going on inside of me, and the hell of it was, she did. She was so calming. When I was with her, kissing her, and cupping the full weight of her beautiful breasts in my hands, it seemed somehow like it

would all be okay. She stoked the fires of desire in me while soothing my emotional torment all at once. How was any one human being so damn perfect? “David!” she gasped, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t trust myself to utter a single word. I just swept her up in my arms and brought her to the bed, kissing her frantically the whole time. “Oh, God, David,” she whispered, lying there, her lips swollen from my eager kisses, her breathing fast, and her lips parted. “David, sometimes you seem to want me so much …” Always. I always wanted her. But seeing how loyal she’d been to me when she could have easily chosen to go out and have fun made me want her more than ever. It took me a matter of only a few seconds to strip off, but with her, I took my time. As I removed each article of clothing and covered every inch of the revealed skin with kisses, claiming her with every movement. By the time she was naked, completely bare for me, we were both breathing as hard as if we’d just run a marathon. She was so hot against me as I took her

nipple into my mouth and started to suckle it, and when I slid my fingers down between her legs, I found her folds slick and wet, slippery with her desire. “No, God, David, no, please.” Kaye was babbling in her urgent desire and damned if it wasn’t the hottest, most arousing thing I’d ever seen. “David, please, inside me. I can’t wait.” When she said that in the breathy tone she always used when she was the neediest and when she reached down and gripped my cock, stroking it a few times and playing with my rigid length, I realized I couldn’t wait either. Not for another second. I needed to be inside her. I needed to feel the connection to her—the one I always felt while buried inside her tight, welcoming body. The one that had terrified me once, but that I craved now more than anything else in the world. Love. Desire. Acceptance. That intimate embrace gave me all of those things —all the things I had always wanted without telling myself or anyone else—and so much more on top, too. “Now,” I finally growled, the first word I’d said to her since she’d entered the room. I kissed her once more, and as I did, I pushed deep inside of her,

feeling her body grip me and her channel tighten around me, accepting me. I loved this woman. I loved her so completely and totally, and when I was buried inside of her—when I felt her clenching and rocking rhythmically around me, when I pulled almost all the way out, so just the tip was buried inside of her, only to slam home once more—it felt somehow like it wasn’t all hopeless. Like somehow, the situation could all work out. The bed rocked with the force of the fury with which we slaked our thirst for each other. She was just as eager as I was, wrapped around me, moaning, shaking, sweating, and straining to get closer. Almost from the beginning, I saw the signs in her. She was close, and soon she was thrashing, moaning, and arching up against me as I took her over and over again. Her head was flung back, her hair spread out over the pillow as she rocked up onto me again and again. “David!” she cried, her nails a slightly sharp sting against my shoulder. She clung to me as the shudders of her orgasm started to wrack her slender body, her legs tangled with mine as her pleasure wrung my own from my body.

The way her internal muscles contracted around me and the way she cried out, moaned, and rocked recklessly on me was all I needed. My own orgasm shook through my body, liquid fire rocketing through my veins, and I growled softly and kissed her again as I spilled inside of her. Even once my orgasm had subsided, I couldn’t make myself pull out of her. I needed to be linked as closely to her as was possible for two human beings to be linked, though I did roll onto my back and pull her on top of me so I wasn’t smothering her. “David,” Kaye moaned, and then she shot me a sassy little wink. “I don’t suppose you want to go out for karaoke?” I laughed softly. Neither of us were in any state to go anywhere. I doubted I could even walk and I couldn’t think she was in a much better state—not from the way her body was trembling with little aftershocks from her orgasm. “No. Let’s just stay here,” I whispered, and it was the perfect time. I knew it. If there could be a perfect time to tell someone you had only married them because you were after their money, but you’d fallen in love with them and just couldn’t do it anymore.

Well, there was no perfect time for something so terrible, but if there could be, it would be right after such an amazing time in bed together—after sharing such an intense orgasm. So now. Now was the time. I would do it. I couldn’t lie to her anymore. I didn’t even want the money. Not if it meant losing her. Besides, I was no longer at all convinced she would ever sleep with Brent. She wasn’t anything like the other women I’d met in my life. “Kaye,” I whispered, and she raised her head from where it had been resting on my chest to look at me quizzically. This was my chance. This was the moment and all I had to do was seize it. I just had to say a few words and the nightmare—the conflict deep in my soul— would be gone. One way or another. “What is it?” Kaye asked, and I should have known she would be perceptive enough to see when something was bugging me. She seemed to notice almost everything, which had only made this whole plan much more difficult. I could free myself from all of this if I just told her. I parted my lips and wet them with my tongue,

trying to fight past the terror of losing her enough so I could say those few words. “I love you,” I whispered, hating myself even as I spoke. It was true. I did love her. But I had wanted to say something else—to tell her about everything. I found I didn’t have the nerve. Most things, I could face down. Fear didn’t have a hold over me most of the time. This one small woman, though, made me afraid—to afraid to lose her to take the chance. “I love you too, David,” she said, smiling, and I nodded. This was the right choice. I could talk to Brent. Tell him the whole plan was off. Kaye didn’t need to be broken. She didn’t have to know I had ever had any intentions toward her other than loving her. Let her keep her innocence. It was probably the thing I had valued about her the most, at least from the time I had been convinced that her innocence was actually genuine. She really thought the best about everyone and everything, and I didn’t have it in me to take any of it away from her. Smiling, I finally rolled her off me, though I wrapped an arm around her shoulders to hold her

close. This was perfect. The perfect solution. I would promise myself to give this relationship a good, solid year, and if it was still as amazing as it was now, I would let myself give in completely. Either way, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to let Brent put his hands on her. No matter what happened, Kaye was mine.

Chapter 21 Kaye Karaoke had nothing on my husband. I was glad I had ended up staying, given how things had worked out. Nestled in close against David, I closed my eyes and let myself bask in the moment, floating on a wave of satisfied arousal and love. I had been right. Staying home had been the right choice and I didn’t regret it at all. I felt so close to my husband right then and I could swear he felt the same. There was a look in his eyes, one that was loving and affectionate. Maybe it was the time to bring up something that had been bothering me for quite awhile now. “David …” I steeled myself for his reaction. He

hadn’t been particularly open to this idea before, but things had changed, right? Surely the experience we had both just had would have drawn us closer together than ever. “What is it?” he murmured, his voice sleepy. He seemed satisfied, and I smiled to myself. There were definitely worse times to bring things up than right after some incredible sex. If he would ever be receptive to this idea, it would be while the sweat from our joining was still on us, slicking our skin. “I want to talk about the baby.” There. It was out there. It came out a lot easier than I had expected it to. After our huge fight over it before, I was a little hesitant about saying anything about wanting a baby again. God knew I did not want to mar the perfection of the moment. The silence that fell between us then made my heart clench and my stomach churn. I didn’t even dare look at him, despite the firm tone of my voice. I took in a big breath, gulping it down, then shook my head. No. If I was going to champion this, I needed to be willing to stand firm for what I wanted. I had to be able to look him right in the eyes and tell him. Otherwise, how could I expect him to take me

seriously? So I raised my gaze and looked right at him. What I was expecting to see, I didn’t quite know, but not the torment I saw there. “Kaye,” he whispered, and I thought maybe I had won him over. Perhaps he was finally willing to consider this seriously. Maybe he had finally realized there was no point in waiting. Waiting for what? We were already married, we had the money, and we were deeply in love. We would make an amazing home for a child. It seemed like he might finally see what I did. “Kaye, stop it.” His voice was so dismissive suddenly, despite the conflicted look in his eyes. “I told you. It’s too soon.” “David, it isn’t. Why is it too soon? When won’t it be?” I asked, hating the desperation in my voice. I sounded like I was begging him, and in a way, I was. Not for the baby—not really—but just for some sort of reasonable explanation for why it couldn’t happen now. “Not one more word about the baby for a year. For at least a year.” David froze me with his words, which stabbed into my heart like icicles—bitterly sharp and cold—freezing me to my very core, then

he rolled over. Rolled away from me. Shut me out. I was dismissed. The intimacy between us was utterly destroyed, and I still didn’t have my answer. He wouldn’t tell me why we had to wait, and worse, he wanted the baby. I don’t know how I knew, but I did. I could see it in his eyes, maybe— his eyes, which contradicted the words that spilled from his lips. Tears came to my eyes and I didn’t try to shut them down. I needed the release of crying if I were to somehow remain sane through all of this. So I let myself cry, but in utter silence. David was facing away from me. I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how thoroughly he was breaking me. What was with him, anyway? He was so loving, affectionate, and cuddly sometimes, and the sex, of course, was amazing. Then there was this whole other side to him, cruel and irrational, holding things I wanted back from me, seemingly as nothing more than an act of spite. What was wrong with him? Or with me? Maybe it was me.

Soon enough, David’s breathing changed, and it made me sob harder to realize he could sleep at a time like this. But why shouldn’t he? It obviously wasn’t his dream to have a baby. I had to stop this. I had to pull myself together. Dashing the tears from my cheeks, I slipped out of bed and found a robe to slip on. I needed to calm down and lying beside David’s unresponsive back wasn’t going to be the best way to do it.

I T WAS LATE, I realized. I might have gone out to the karaoke bar, but it was probably closed by now, which was actually too bad. I could use some distraction, but it seemed it was just me, alone in the kitchen, wondering what kind of marriage I really had. David was kind most of the time, but he did have awful bouts of moodiness and even a bit of meanness to him. But, still, I loved him. I was wondering if we’d ever be able to have fun with our friends or if that was something we’d never do, since he was always so busy. But, still, I loved him. And then there was the big thing between us about me wanting a baby now and him wanting to wait a year before we even considered it. Would I feel this lonely and alone forever?

Just as I was thinking about how alone I was, a knock came at the door. I was pouring myself some milk, getting ready to heat it up with some vanilla— there was really nothing better when sleep was elusive—when I heard the sound. Frowning, completely confused about who could be coming by at three in the morning, I went to answer it. I left the chain on. I liked to think the best of people, but I wasn’t an idiot. It was awfully late, and I wasn’t expecting anyone. It could be a robber, or worse. Not that many robbers or murderers knocked on a door before they come in. I chuckled to myself as I pulled the door open a crack. “Brent?” I asked as I saw his face on the other side of the door and quickly fumbled the chain off. Brent didn’t look so good. His cheeks were very flushed, his eyes were dull, and he couldn’t quite seem to hold himself upright. He had to hold on to the frame of the door to even keep himself from falling over. “I can’t drive home,” he slurred the words out, and I realized what was going on pretty easily. I’d done a brief stint as a nurse in the ER, so this wasn’t the first time I had seen someone completely drunk out of their mind. “I almost crashed just getting here. Can I stay the night?” Well, there was really no question about what my

answer would be. Of course he could stay. I wasn’t going to send him off to risk his life in a car accident. It wouldn’t be fair or right, not only for him, but for anyone he might run into. Literally. “Of course.” I opened the door and let him in, and when he staggered, I even propped him up with an arm around his waist. He was big and strong, yes, but again, this wasn’t my first rodeo. I knew how to help a drunk man walk. “Why are you still up?” he asked as I deposited him carefully onto the bigger of the living room couches. I made sure he was settled, then went to sit on the other couch. I didn’t think he would get any ideas, but I’d been groped by drunk men before, and besides, I couldn’t help but remember what Angela had said to me. The words she spoke echoed in my head, a clear warning. If Brent was in love with me, or even if he just thought he was, I didn’t want to encourage it at all. As I got myself settled, Brent looked at me. His eyes were dim with the alcohol, but it didn’t seem to cut down on his powers of perception very much. Either that, or I just looked much more terrible than I would have thought. With him being as drunk as he was, it was probably

the latter. I touched my face discreetly, finding it hot and my eyes swollen. I must be a complete mess. “Why are your eyes all red? Are you okay?” Brent sounded genuinely concerned, and the tears I’d so valiantly fought back were right back again. I tried to blink them away, annoyed with myself, but they wouldn’t stay back. Just a tiny bit of kindness from Brent and I was sobbing again. It was pathetic, but I couldn’t help it. I was so confused, so utterly filled with misery, that it came out, regardless of my desires on the subject. “It’s David,” I whispered. Maybe I was being disloyal by talking about this at all, and of course, this man was my husband’s best friend. David might not want Brent knowing all his personal business. I could no more hold back the words than I could my tears. “I want a baby,” I kept going, and even just saying the words out loud felt healing to me. I had been trying to hide the desire, even from myself, but I just couldn’t do it. “I want a baby so badly, but David …” “David doesn’t want a baby?” Brent asked, and I sighed softly and shook my head in denial.

“No. If he just didn’t want a baby, it would be much easier,” I murmured. “He looks at me and I see he wants it. But then he tells me we have to wait for a year. Why? We’re married, right? Forever and ever? I don’t know why we have to wait. I wish I knew …” “Okay, fuck this shit,” Brent swore, and I jumped, stunned by the crudity. He was drunk, I reminded myself, and focused on the content of what he was saying instead. “I’ve had just about enough of this.” Enough of what? “Look, I’ve had too much to drink and I know it, but …maybe I’ll hate myself for this in the morning when I sober up.” He wasn’t making any sense. I looked at him, trying to figure out what all his rambling was about. Something told me not to speak, though. Brent knew something, and I wanted to know what it was. If it pissed David off, I’d just have to deal with it. “Hate yourself for telling me what, exactly, Brent?” “He only married you to get your money,” Brent slurred, looking right into my eyes. I saw the sincerity in his. Drunk or not, he wasn’t lying, and it was then that my world started to fall apart around me.

He told me everything—the plan he and David had made and how he was supposed to seduce me. How I was supposed to fall into his arms, sleep with him, and get caught by David. David had made a plan to destroy me. The hell of it was, the plan had worked. Oh, maybe the money was safe, if I cared about that at all, but my heart had shattered into little pieces in my chest, with a pain as sharp as if I’d actually been shot there. Brent may as well have reached into my chest and ripped my heart right out, and from the look of remorse and pain on his face, he knew it. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you. You look like you’re about to lose your mind, Kaye. Don’t. Don’t go crazy over this. Don’t let it break you.” His words came fast as he stared into my eyes. “You’re too good to let this destroy you.” “You’re right. I am too good to let this destroy me. But you were right to tell me. Things make so much more sense now, don’t they?” I tapped my foot anxiously as I looked at Brent. “So it was all an act on your part as well, wasn’t it?” “At first. But I have grown to care about you. You’re a great person. The best woman I’ve ever

met. I respect the shit out of you, Kaye. But all the flirting and the moves I made, those were made up. I actually admire you and your ability to put a man like me in my place. But I don’t want you. Not sexually. Not that you’re not a knockout, but I know where your heart is.” I was stupefied. I had been duped so completely by two men at the same time. I was beyond naïve. I felt so stupid. So completely fucking stupid it made me think I had brain damage I’d never been aware of. How could he do this to me? And what was I going to do about it now?

David My hand touched nothing but smooth, cool sheets when I rolled over the next morning. I expected to find Kaye, warm and fragrant and sleepy, but she wasn’t within the grasp of my groping hand. I opened my eyes, expecting to see her lying just inches away from me in bed, out of reach of my hand, or to see her brushing her long, dark waves of hair. But I saw nothing.

Frowning, I woke up completely. It was strange to not find her there. It was early yet and I knew she didn’t have to work. She would normally wait for me in the bedroom, because more often than not, we breakfasted together. A sense of foreboding stole through my entire body, trailing icy fingers up my spine. Only, I was being ridiculous and I knew it. Kaye had probably gone to go start breakfast herself. She probably didn’t want to be around me much, and I couldn’t even blame her. I was being ridiculous about this baby thing. I did want a child with her. More than one, if she was okay with it. Any child she had any part in would be nothing but an utter delight. I had never had much interest in having a child before, but with her, I wanted kids. So why was I waiting, anyway? I shook my head as I grabbed a pair of sweats and pulled them on. I had no idea. Probably for the same stubborn reason I’d kept insisting to myself, and to Brent, that I was only after Kaye’s money. Long after I had known it wasn’t true, I had kept on with the charade. Maybe it was time to break this cycle before it got even more ridiculous than it already was. What was I trying to prove here, anyway?

Kaye and I were together. For life. So maybe it was time for me to go prove it to her. To both of us. With a huge smile on my face, I left the room. I probably looked like an idiot, but I didn’t even care. I would find Kaye and we could talk—maybe get started on the baby right away. Though she would probably have to stop taking her pills first. I had no problem with practicing, though. “Kaye?” I called out, walking down the stairs toward the living room. There was no smell of coffee and I shook my head. Kaye was, if anything, more addicted to caffeine than I was. It was the whole nurse thing, she’d told me. Whenever she woke up, she put on a pot of coffee. Always. “David?” Her voice was sleepy and it came from the living room. Remorse gripped me. She must have come downstairs to sleep on the couch, unable to handle being in the same bed with me after how cruel I had been to her. And then I saw Brent. My so-called best friend was lying on our couch, dead to the world and snoring softly. On the other

couch, my wife was just sitting up, rubbing sleep from her lovely green eyes. She looked startled to see me. “Oh my God,” I whispered, looking between the two of them. Brent was only slowly waking up, and as he opened his eyes, I felt my anger growing, bursting a dam deep in the pit of my stomach, and flooding me with white-hot fury and something close to hatred. “What the fuck is going on right now?” My voice thundered through the room and it was enough to wake my best friend up. My former best friend, that is. Kaye looked at me, obviously startled, but she didn’t recoil back the same way Brent did. “Someone answer me immediately,” I hissed, approaching Kaye. To my stunned surprise, Brent got up off the couch and stood right in front of her. Protecting her. Protecting my wife. From me. “I won’t let you hurt her anymore.” Brent stood firmly in front of Kaye, who poked her head around him so she could see me. There was a distance in her expression—one I wasn’t used to seeing. Not from her. It was like she was already pulling away from me.

The anger I’d felt before was nothing. It paled in comparison to what raged through me when I realized what was going on. Brent was protecting Kaye, who was pulling away from me. “You fucked her, didn’t you? You son of a bitch, you fucked my wife,” I screamed, and my hands clenched into fists at my side, hard enough to leave little bloody marks. I had to keep myself under control. I knew that, at least on some level. Otherwise, I might just kill Brent. And how badly I wanted to at that moment. I would gladly rot in hell before I saw him with the woman I loved. He was in for the fight of his life if he thought for one second I was going to let him have her. “No, we didn’t,” Kaye whispered, and her face was very pale, other than two patches of color high on her cheekbones. For the very first time, I was seeing my wife furious. “You did!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. I knew what I was witnessing here in our living room. I knew she’d left our bed and come down here to meet him. Why else would they be down here? When had they concocted this little rendezvous? Unlike me, she didn’t get loud. She didn’t scream. She got very quiet instead. Terrifyingly quiet. I had to listen very closely to be able to hear her at all

when she spoke. “We didn’t. I would never have touched another man,” Kaye continued, her voice still so soft and quiet that I had to lean forward to listen. “I love you. I loved you.” Loved? Past tense. She had loved me, which seemed to imply, with the way she said it, that she didn’t love me any longer. I think I knew then. Deep down, in a place I didn’t acknowledge at the time, I knew that she knew. I didn’t know how, but what else could it be? What else could have taken my devoted wife from me? “I’m going to file for divorce.” Kaye’s voice was still so terrifyingly cold and calm, and her words stabbed into my brain. “I know, David. I know what you were trying to do to me, and since money is all you care about, it should really hurt you to know I’m going to get all of it. Every last penny.” “How?” The rage was gone and I stammered out the one word. How had this all happened, was what I meant to ask, but Brent didn’t take it the way I intended. “If you think she can’t make it happen,” he told me firmly, “he can. If you fight this, I am more than happy to tell a judge what we had planned. I can’t

do it anymore, David, and I won’t let you do it either.” My whole body clenched with agony, as though all of my nerves sang with the pain of my sudden realization. It was over. Oh, it had been over either way, because I had come to the same conclusion as Brent had. But my way, Kaye never would have known and I could have kept her. I would have stayed wealthy, and I would have had everything Kaye had been offering me—stability and a real family. They were things I’d never had before and hadn’t known how much I’d wanted until they were abruptly taken away. I stood there, frozen, the icicles of her words having paralyzed me to the ground. I couldn’t even open my mouth and my throat refused to work. I just stared at my former best friend and my wife, no hint of the heat of rage anywhere in my body anymore. My wife--soon to be ex-wife—looked at me with cold eyes that told me what we had was over. I had ruined it. It was entirely my fault. The woman would take me to the cleaners for hurting her like this, and she deserved every fucking penny I had. I knew that then. I wouldn’t even fight her. I was a

bastard, I didn’t deserve one God damned thing, and I knew it. But was it really all my fault? Hadn’t Brent been the one to come up with this plan? Wasn’t Kaye a smart woman, capable of seeing through things like this? No matter how much I tried to convince myself that this wasn’t all my fault, I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. I could talk about building a grand legacy in my grandfather’s name, I could mention my mother and how faithless she’d been, but none of it mattered. My grandfather had wanted the money to go to Kaye. It hurt to accept it, but it was nothing but the truth. And that, too, was my fault, for my inability to handle my father’s death. In that one moment, it all became clear to me—all the things I had been trying to deny, and not just over the last few months, either. Hindsight, they say, is a bitch. I could vouch for the statement. Just as I was paralyzed now, so had I been for the last decade. More than a decade—ever since my father had died, yes, but even before. Ever since my mother had left me. I’d let it shape my view of women. All women. I

had been too wrapped up in my pain. It all seemed so shallow as I looked at the face of the only woman who had ever broken through all of it—the walls I’d put around myself, the pain, the sorrow, and the distrust. “Oh my God,” I whispered, barely audible enough for me to hear my own voice. There was no way she would be able to pick any of it up. “I’m an idiot.” Such a ridiculous idiot. Yes, bad things had happened to me, but they had happened to Kaye, too. She had been just as alone as I was, but she’d been willing to let herself fall in love without reservation. She trusted too much, and now she was paying the price. I wished to God I hadn’t been the one to demand it of her. Maybe it would be the biggest tragedy of this whole thing. Kaye would lose some of her innocence because I hadn’t been willing to just call this off sooner. No, even calling it off wouldn’t have been enough. I should have been brave enough to tell her about it myself so Brent wouldn’t have had any chance to. Now I’d lost everything because of my greed and

my cowardice. I’d lost the money, yes, but somehow it seemed the least important thing. I’d also lost my best friend, which stung. Brent had done the right thing before I had, and I felt even more like an asshole knowing that. Of course, he’d gotten drunk to do it, which must have made it easier. The biggest blow was Kaye. I’d lost her. The only woman I had ever loved and the only woman loyal enough to stand by me even when I was deliberately being a dick to her—she was gone. I could see in her eyes the distance that had widened between us. We were strangers. No. We were less than strangers, because I had hurt her. I didn’t have her trust, and I didn’t have her love. My legs went out and I fell onto a chair, pretty much collapsing onto it. I could try to lie, I supposed, but what was the point? She was smart enough to put the pieces together, especially with Brent having told her what he had. I didn’t want to lie anyway, even if she would believe me. She knew me for what I was, and maybe it was for the better.

For a moment, we were all just frozen there. Frozen in place and trapped in this moment in time by the horrible situation. The situation I had caused.

Chapter 22 Kaye Part of me had hoped David would deny it. Part of me had hoped he would look me right in the eyes and tell me I was crazy—tell me Brent had made it all up and I was a fool to believe him. Please let him tell me that. If he had, I probably would have believed him. If I hadn’t read the truth in his eyes anyway. What I’d read in those dark eyes instead had shaken me right to the core, until I felt I had been robbed of my breath—possibly of my very soul. Brent was telling the truth. As I lay on that couch after Brent’s confession, I kept praying that this was all just a terrible nightmare and that I would wake up on our bed, in David’s arms, and everything would be okay. Or I might wake up and find my husband hadn’t

lied and Brent had. I was okay with hating Brent, but not with hating David, my husband, the man I thought I knew. But the sad and sorrowful truth was that David had never loved me. He had lied to me—used me—just for money. He was nothing more than a ruthless capitalist who had been willing to do whatever he had to in order to get what he wanted. He had married me for money, not for emotion. Not for love, the way I thought he had. Love was the reason I had married him. I didn’t care about the money that his income would give me if our marriage didn’t work out. I always knew it would work out—I would never let it go. But I had been dead wrong, hadn’t I? “How could you?” I whispered, and the only thing I could think of to do, suddenly, was to get out of there. Watching David collapse onto his chair as his plan came undone around him should have been deeply rewarding. It wasn’t. Even after everything he’d done to me and everything he’d tried to do—even with how he’d tried to cheapen me and use me and ruin me, I couldn’t hate him. I knew I should. I knew what Angela, or Joan, or any of the other women I

worked with would say. They would tell me to get mad. To get revenge. To take the man who had hurt me for everything he was worth. I got to my feet, walking around Brent, but on the side that was furthest from David. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t speak to him. I had really said all there was to say, and maybe it would be best to leave with the tattered remnants of my dignity. What little there was left of it, anyway. I walked up the stairs, still so stunned by how quickly everything could fall apart. There was anger there, too, but it was cold and remote, not lending me any of its strength or fury to do what I had to do. “Kaye! Wait!” David was on his feet as I turned back around. My heart was completely broken, but it still recognized the sound of his voice. I was going to have to watch that. “Damn it, you’ve done enough,” Brent hissed, and he launched himself between the stairs where I still stood and David, who was walking toward me. Brent actually pushed himself between us before David was even close to me.

“Get out of my way.” David squared off against his best friend and my shattered heart lurched in my chest. God, no. Please let this not evolve into a physical altercation. On top of everything else, I wasn’t going to be able to handle it. Brent threw the first punch, and I let out a startled little shriek. In my line of work, I’d seen the end results of more than a few of these quarrels and I knew it wasn’t headed anywhere good. Something broke through the chill of betrayal when I saw Brent’s fist connect with David’s face and when I saw David clench his hand into a tight little ball and start to swing it at the man who had been his best friend. I still loved David. I cared about Brent, too, but David held my heart. I didn’t want either of them hurt, though, and I ran down the stairs so fast it surprised me when I didn’t trip and go flying down them. Without hesitation or conscious thought, I wrapped my arms around David and swung my body around his, deftly inserting myself between the two of them before either of them could land another blow. “Brent, get out of here,” I yelled, with my arms around my husband’s body, which was shaking with

rage. The muscles of his arms were bunched into tight little knots with the desire to hurt Brent. Possibly to beat him to death. No, I couldn’t let David or Brent do anything that might rob them of their freedom. I didn’t want to see anyone in prison, or worse, over me. “No way. He might hurt you,” Brent shouted back, trying to duck around me to get a clear shot at David. “He’s hurt me as much as he can,” I replied, my voice quieting a little, but I was no less resolute. “What else can he do to me? Just leave. I can handle David.” I was sure I could, too. He had never hit me, after all, and I’d never even been slightly concerned he might. Even now, he could push me away if he really wanted to, but he wasn’t. “Kaye …” Brent sounded reluctant, but when I turned my head to look at him, I saw he had backed up a few steps. I was getting through to him. “Go!” I demanded, and I heard his footsteps retreat as he left the room. The front door slammed shut, and only then did I cautiously, very cautiously, release David. Maybe he would go running after Brent, but somehow, I didn’t think so.

I was right. Once we were alone, he slumped down, coming to rest on the bottom step. He covered his eyes with his hands, and if he hadn’t utterly betrayed me, I would have felt sorry for him. He looked so miserable. So desperately sad. Was it because he actually had come to love me and now he was going to lose me? Or was it because I was going to take everything away from him? Every last cent of even the money he had worked hard to earn on his own. “So this was all about money,” I whispered. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you.” He glanced up at me, and I had to harden my heart to keep from feeling for him. His eyes were bleak and it seemed like he couldn’t form words at that moment. I sighed softly as I looked at him. I didn’t —couldn’t—approve of his methods, but I’d always been a sucker for someone who was suffering. “Did you tell me the truth about anything?” I asked, settling down on the step with him and feeling too weak—too utterly worn out—to even make it over to the couch. “Your parents? Your mom? Or was it all just a lie to get me to fall for you?” If it had been, he’d done a really incredible job of

it. I had fallen ridiculously hard and fast. “Yes. I told the truth about my parents.” All the life seemed to have gone out of David’s voice, and I frowned slightly. How could I believe him? How could I know if anything he ever said again was true? Searching his face, I had to shake my head. I had no way of knowing. I’d been so sure he loved me and I’d been completely wrong. I had thought I was a good judge of character, but then I found out Brent and David had plotted against me this whole time. My marriage was a lie. It was just that I had apparently been too stupid and trusting to see it. I would never, ever make that same mistake again. “I don’t know if I should believe you. But I don’t know if it even matters anymore. You used your tragedy to make me feel sorry for you.” He winced, and I looked away. I had thought my heart was completely shattered, but it seemed there were a few more pieces big enough to break into smaller shards—ones that lodged in the back of my throat and made it hard to breathe. David didn't even deny the accusation. He was quiet as a church mouse. Was he not even going to

try to talk his way out of this? “Well, I guess this is it. Our marriage is over before it really got started. But that’s how you wanted it, isn’t it? Didn’t turn out the way you’d planned though, did it?” I shook my head and closed my eyes, fighting back tears. My marriage was ending. Well, it had never really existed in the first place— not as I had thought it had. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry over it. He’d already gotten too much of me, my dignity, my self-esteem, and my trust. I’d be damned if I would give him any more of myself. “Kaye, please …” David started, but I wasn’t going to have any of that. I had things I needed to say, and I held up my hand and gestured for him to be silent. His turn to speak was over. He’d lost that right. I wasn’t about to listen to anything he had to say. It wasn’t like I could believe a word that came out of his mouth anyway. “Give it up, David. What’s your plan now? To make up with me? To give our marriage another try, so you can keep what money you already had?” I snorted softly. “Damage control, am I right?” I looked at him, but only for a second or two. I didn’t really give him a chance to respond. After

all, I didn’t really need to. He’d proven very decisively that all he cared about was money. Cold, hard cash. And it was a thing I cared so little for. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed having enough money to pay the bills, eat, and maybe even have a little bit extra for fun. But I’d gotten by with very little of it for years and money didn’t have the same hold over me as it obviously did over David. I could ruin him just as he had ruined me. All I needed to do was claim what was rightfully mine. Not only the money that had been left to me, but all of David’s personal fortune too. No one could argue if I did it. No one could say it wasn’t justice. Only it wouldn’t be—not really. It would be nothing but revenge—a way of me lashing out at David because he’d lashed out at me. He had been so angry when I’d gotten everything from his grandfather’s death. I couldn’t help but think a lot of what he’d done had been more for revenge than for money. I couldn’t claim not to be tempted. But if I did it, I would be no better, really, than Brent and David had been when they’d squared off against each

other. I would be seeking revenge with lawyers, but the spite and anger would be the same. No matter what had been done to me, it just wasn’t in me to do something like that. I had been broken, but not so completely that I’d do something that just wasn’t in me to do. The money his grandfather left me should’ve been David’s. No matter what had happened between them, that is exactly how it should’ve been. I wasn’t blaming poor Theodore for what had happened to me, but it was his decision to change his will that had caused this. I just wanted out. I wanted out of all of it. Forever. “You win,” I commented softly and rose to my feet. My legs were shaking, but I was determined. “I offered you half before I even knew how much you wanted it. Well, now you can have it all. Every last cent. This house. The cars. It’s all yours. It’s not like I ever wanted any of it. It was thrust upon me, so to speak. Your grandfather never told me what he was doing with his will, or I would’ve told him not to leave a damn thing to me. That’s not who I am. I would’ve told him to leave it to you, even though I didn’t even know you at the time. I would’ve told him that he’d hate himself for his actions if he left you nothing at all. But I didn’t get a chance to, since he kept it a secret. It seems you

Blacks are very good at keeping your secrets. I’m better off, I guess.” What did any of it matter to me, really? I didn’t want t—not when I knew just how much David did and how much he’d been willing to do to get it all. “Kaye …” his voice cracked and it made me flinch. God, I still hated to hurt him so much. Love was a wicked thing. A cruel thing. A thing that made people do the most idiotic things. I steeled myself, pulling myself up straight and trying to sound confident and strong. “I hope you’re happy.” Despite all of my best efforts, my voice broke and tears started to fall down my cheeks. I had been holding it together just fine, but now it was time to say goodbye. It was going to be the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life. His one word came out in a harsh breath, “No …” “You should be happy. You got the only thing you ever wanted—the only thing you have ever loved.” I paused and then added as I shook my head, “I will never trust another human being again. Never.” What else was there to say? I didn’t look at him, trying to avoid him seeing the tears dripping down

my face. I just turned away, intending to leave. I would go right to my lawyer, ask for the divorce, and sign everything over to David. Or so I thought, until I heard the faint rustle of movement behind me. The next thing I knew, David’s large, strong hand closed around my wrist and pulled me back.

David Kaye was going to leave. I could see it. I could tell it wasn’t a bargaining chip. She wasn’t trying to manipulate me. She really was going to leave after giving me freely everything I’d wanted. Everything I’d thought I’d wanted, anyway. I moved before I thought, and when I put my hand on her wrist and she spun around, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see the anger in her face. There was no anger there. Only tears and pain. These horrible gifts I had given to her. “Don’t go,” I whispered, and if I had thought it would help, I would have fallen right down onto my knees then and there. I would have begged for her to stay, and I wasn’t the sort of man who begged.

Ever. “Why?” Kaye asked, and she used her free hand, the one I wasn’t holding, to dash the tears from her eyes. They were swollen and red, but she had never looked more beautiful to me. Now that I was going to lose her, I realized just how crazy I really was about her and how thoroughly I’d fallen in love, despite all of my efforts to avoid it. I was utterly smitten, completely and totally hers. Too bad I had only fully realized it while I was losing her. But I had to at least try, didn’t I? “I have something more to confess to you,” I said quietly and watched as her eyes widened. More? I could pretty much guess she was thinking. What else was I going to drop on her now? “David, please,” she whispered, and I could feel her small body shaking. I didn’t let her go, though. I pulled her closer to me, gazing down into her beautiful face. Our bodies were so close that I could feel the heat radiating off of hers. “Please,” I echoed her. “Just hear me out. If you still want to go when I’m done talking, I won’t stop you.” I wouldn’t. It was definitely her right. I’d certainly put her through enough—she didn’t owe me even

this much of her time. She glanced down at my hand on her wrist, then took a step back. She didn’t actually pull her wrist away, though, so I kept my grip on it. This might be the last time I ever got to touch her, after all. “Okay,” she allowed, and I took a deep breath. Against all odds, she was giving me this chance to explain myself. I didn’t deserve it, and I knew it, but I was going to make the best of the opportunity. “I love you,” I started. It seemed the best place to start—the best base to build my argument from. I saw the skepticism in her eyes and knew I deserved it, but I kept going. “I have almost from the beginning. Since before our wedding. From the very first time we were intimate, or maybe before that.” “David, please.” Kaye was very pale as she looked at me. “Stop it. You don’t have to do any of this.” I shook my head. This was my chance to get out, to walk away with all of the money, and to not have to deal with the wife I hadn’t wanted in the first place. Only, now, I did want her. More than the money. More than anything. I just had to make her see that. “Look, Kaye, I know you have no reason to trust

me, but I mean it. I have no reason to lie to you now. I love you. You’ve already said you’d give me all the money. I could just walk away, but I can’t do it. I need you. I’d burn the money in a huge bonfire right here and now if it would make you listen to me.” I looked at her, and she just looked back at me. I didn’t see belief in her face, not yet, but I saw something that made me think she might be on the right track. She was still listening. I couldn’t give up. Not until there was no hope left at all. “David …” she tried to say more, but I put my finger to her lips to make her stop talking. She couldn’t say another word until she’d heard what I had to say. “Kaye, if you leave—if you walk out of here—I don’t think I can handle it. I will sign whatever papers you want. Take everything from me. I don’t care about any of that stuff. I just care about you. Just you.” “David,” she whispered, looking at me, and this time I was sure of it. There was something like hope in her eyes. She still loved me. For some reason, she still loved me, and she wanted to believe what I said.

My heart took the first hard beat it had since she told me she was leaving me. The smallest spark of hope formed and it spurred me on. “I want to be with you. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. I can tell you this truthfully—my life will never be the same if our marriage ends. And I’m not talking about money. I am talking about love. I’m talking about actually living. I’m talking about moving forward. I haven’t been my true self with you since our wedding. The stupid plan got in the way. I’m not actually such a workaholic. I’m not actually a moody man. And I’m not actually against starting our family. If you want to start a family with me, I want that too.” It was so strange, saying those words out loud, but I meant them. I had wanted all of those things before, though I hadn’t admitted it to her, or even myself really. “I’m sorry. If you try to forgive me, I swear to you that I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, Kaye. I want to be married to you. To really be with you.” Kaye took a deep breath, and I could see her struggling with herself. I could see she wanted to believe me, but for obvious reasons, she was having a hard time with it. “You don’t have to offer me a baby to get me to stay,” Kaye whispered. “I don’t want to be bribed into it. I only want to have a family with someone who really, really wants to

have one with me.” “I want a baby,” I said bluntly. “I have since the moment you brought it up. I don’t know how I even managed to keep saying no to you.” I gazed at her and there was no longer any doubt at all. She wanted to do this. She wanted to continue our marriage. My heart took another hard, thumping beat. “Keep talking,” Kaye murmured, and I nodded. There were a few things I still had to say. “I love you, I need you, and I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Part of me is glad Brent told you. I wanted out of this whole lie, I wanted to be with you, and I just didn’t know how to tell you. I wish I had. I know this may sound like a lie, but I was actually about to confess to you this morning.” “Please, David,” the sound of her voice spoke to how hurt she was. I shook my head, not ready to let her talk yet. “I was going to tell you the horrible truth and tell you I want to have a baby with you—lots of babies with you and only you. I really was about to do just that. Even as early as last night, after we made love better than we ever had before. I was. I promise you that. But, in all honesty, I never expect you to fully believe that, even though it is true. I truly love

you. I do. If you believe nothing else, please, I am begging you to believe that. I love you, Kaye Black.” “I love you too,” Kaye sobbed, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her free hand. I still held the other tightly, jealously guarding it and refusing to let go. “I love you too, David, and all I want is for things to go back to how they were before. How I thought they were.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I want you back, but the you I thought I married … does that man even exist?” “He does,” I promised. “I’m right here, and I will be the man you deserve. I swear to you. Just give me a chance.” I had never meant anything more in my life and I tried to put that sincerity not only into my words, but my face as well. I could see how she was looking at me, and maybe she was crying, but she was shrewd and her trust in me had been tarnished. She was watching me closely. Whatever she saw must have satisfied her. She suddenly smiled and launched herself at me. I released her wrist finally so she could wrap her arms around me, and then her slender, soft, sweetly curved body was pressed against me and she was hugging me tightly.

“I’ll stay,” she whispered, and I could feel her heart hammering in her chest, that’s how closely we were pressed together. She clung to me, and I could tell by how eagerly she came into my arms that she had never wanted to leave. She just thought she had to. Well, now it was my job not to give her any reason to leave me. Not ever again. “I love you, Kaye,” I murmured tenderly, gazing down into her flushed face, my arms still wrapped firmly around her. “I love you too, David. We’ll work this out,” she vowed, and I believed her. One thing I had learned about this woman was not to underestimate her. She was sweet, yes, and kind, but she had a will of steel under all that softness. If she said we would work it out, I had every reason to believe we would. Just like that, she stretched up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against mine. I wouldn’t have thought it even possible for me to hold her closer, but somehow I managed. The kiss we shared then was a promise—an acknowledgment of the past as well as a commitment for the future. Our wedding had been

months ago, but in a very real way, this was the start of our marriage. “No more secrets,” Kaye whispered, and I nodded, in full agreement. “No more lies. Promise me that and you have me forever.” “I promise.” It was a very easy promise to make. I’d seen what happened when I did lie to her and tried to keep things from her. I was supremely uninterested in having a relationship based on falseness. We kissed again, and it was strange at first, like we were both testing it out. Slowly, we relaxed into it, and I knew then for sure I had been forgiven. I didn’t deserve it, but I would spend the rest of my life trying to make sure she never regretted it. “Good,” Kaye said, beaming at me through her tears, but there was no more misery in her eyes. Her whole face was lit up with joy and this beautiful woman was mine. All mine, and I would never lose her again. I would never do anything to risk what we had. It had taken me a stupidly long time, but I had thoroughly learned my lesson and from here on out it would be honesty and consideration from me. Nothing less would be accepted by me or my wife, and I was great with that.

Hold me accountable, Kaye Black. I had thought I couldn’t trust a woman—any woman—but I’d let my very real pain at losing my mother make me act like a dick. No more. I had been such an idiot. Without any further hesitation, I swept her up into my arms and held her bridal style. It seemed fitting, since this was, after all, the first day of the rest of our lives together. She might as well be my bride all over again. “Let’s go back to bed,” I murmured, and I knew from the slightly wicked smile on her face that she understood. She knew what I wanted and was ready to fully cooperate. “To bed, husband,” she whispered, her arms going around my neck and her weight nestled perfectly in my arms. “Thank you.” I meant it with all of my heart. She had no reason to give me another chance, but she had. She just gave me an enigmatic little smile, one that made both my heart and my cock throb, and without further ado, I swept her up the stairs and to our bedroom. All of the shit was over, it seemed. All of the

ugliness was done, and our real marriage could begin. I had never felt more optimistic in my entire life about anything. Lesson learned—don’t think you can have a revenge marriage without falling in love in the process.

THE E ND

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HIS BROTHER’S WIFE A BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

When beautiful classical pianist, Amalia Rai, marries billionaire Jackson Gallo, it is not a happy union. Amalia’s father has blackmailed his daughter into marrying the man who can save his company —and in return, he will allow Ama’s younger sister, Selima, to divorce her abusive husband. As she walks down the aisle, Ama’s life is changed forever when she sees Enda—Jackson’s illegitimate, Italian half-brother. The attraction between them is obvious. Beginning a sensual, erotic affair with Enda, desperate to relieve the tension from her sham of a marriage, Ama falls in love with him, but when Jackson finds out about the affair, his rage is allconsuming. Fleeing to Italy with Enda, Ama begins a new life, making friends with Enda’s best friends, Raffaelo

Winter and his lovely wife, Inca. Happier than ever, she is shattered when, after months of silence, Jackson takes his revenge, shattering everyone and everything Ama cares about … Can Ama find the strength to fight for the people she loves and live happily ever after with the man of her dreams?

N

ot for the first time, Amalia Rai gazed in the mirror and wondered how the hell she had gotten here. This is the twenty-first century, right? And, yet, she, a successful classical pianist and music professor, was about to be married to a man she barely knew—and who she could barely stand. Amalia closed her eyes. She could hardly stand to look at the sadness in her own eyes. At twentyseven, she had accomplished so much and had thought herself free of her controlling father and all the bullshit that went on in their family. If it hadn’t been for her desperation to save her little sister’s life, she would never have agreed to this. But her father held all the cards. He would not allow Selima to divorce her abusive husband unless Amalia agreed to marry Jackson Gallo—her

father’s rival in business and the man who had nearly brought her father to his knees. When Gallo offered Gajendra Rai a lifeline—give him his eldest daughter in marriage, and he’ll give Gajendra a multimillion dollar cash –injection—Gajendra had not hesitated in going to Amalia and demanding she marry Jackson. Amalia had turned him down flat. That she and her father were not close was an understatement. For months, she had held out, until the day Selima had called her from the emergency room of the hospital. Her husband had beaten her so badly that she could barely speak, but just sob over the phone to her sister. Amalia went to her and was horrified by her injuries and by what she had been through. Gajendra, though, refused to let Selima divorce her husband …unless Amalia married Jackson. Desperate, Amalia agreed, and now, in a few minutes, she would take her father’s arm and walk down the aisle in the church Jackson’s family had built in their luxurious compound on the outskirts of San Francisco. A prison, not a compound, thought Amalia as she straightened the wedding dress that had cost seven times her salary. Her father had paid, of course, and although Amalia would have preferred to marry in the traditional Indian attire befitting her heritage, her father insisted that a white dress would be more suitable

for the society pages. Amalia shrugged to herself now. What did it matter? This wasn’t a real wedding and it wouldn’t be a real marriage. She had made it clear to Jackson that under no circumstances would the marriage be consummated. Jackson had laughed, and she knew he thought she was joking. He would find out tonight that she was deadly serious. Jackson Gallo was handsome in a bland, preppy way. The youngest son of billionaire property magnate Macaulay Gallo, Jackson was often to be found in the pages of gossip magazines, romancing some of the world’s most beautiful women. When he had laid eyes on Amalia at a benefit gala where she was performing, he’d pursued her relentlessly until Amalia had grown frightened of his vehemence. She had finally thought he’d gotten the message she wasn’t interested when the call from her father came. Jackson had been victorious when Ama had agreed to marry him, but for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why he would settle on her. Yes, she was a renowned pianist and a very successful professor of music at The San Francisco Conservatory of Music. Yes, she knew she was considered a beautiful woman, with her creamy coffee-and-pink skin, bright green eyes, long, wavy, dark hair, and curvaceous body, but to society and Jackson’s world, she was completely indifferent.

A knock came at the door and her sister, dressed in a simple lilac silk sheath, came in and smiled at her. “Hey, sis … are you nearly ready? Dad’s hovering outside.” Ama smiled at her. “Almost.” She sighed and stood. Selima came up to her and studied her. “It’s not too late, you know. We can skip out of here and escape somewhere hot.” Ama laughed sadly. “And live on what, Lima?” Selima shrugged, but her eyes were sad. “I hate that you’re doing this for me.” Ama hugged her sister. “I swear, knowing that you’ll be free of that bastard is the only good thing about this.” Selima nodded. “Thank you, Ama. I mean it. And look, the prenup says …” “I’m trapped for two years.” Ama tried to make a joke of it. “Trapped, but living in luxury. How many women would kill to be me right now?” Selima’s nose wrinkled. “With that creep?” Selima had as much of a low opinion of Jackson as Amalia did. Her smile brightened. “Olivier, on the other hand …” Olivier Gallo was Jackson’s older brother, and Ama

had grown very fond of him. He was in his early forties and a workaholic, but kind and quiet. He was the only one in the family who didn’t stand for Jackson’s arrogance or posturing, and there were many times when he’d met Amalia’s gaze over the family dinner table and rolled his eyes at what Jackson was bloviating about on that particular night. And yes, Olivier was gorgeous and tall, with dark hair and brown eyes, but there was sadness in him that Amalia didn’t understand. Macaulay had once told Amalia that Olivier had been particularly close to his mother, who had died giving birth to Jackson, who was thirteen years younger than Olivier. Amalia was curious about that, and about the fact that Olivier seemed to have no time for anything else, but work in his life. Selima had a huge crush on the older Gallo brother. She grinned at Amalia now. “I bagged the seat next to him, too. Hey, isn’t today when we all meet the black sheep?” Amalia nodded. Enda Gallo was the middle brother …well, middle half-brother, the result of an extramarital affair Macaulay had had with an Italian actress. Amalia had never met him, but knew he kept to himself, mostly living in Italy. Since Enda had been ignored by his father for the

first thirty years of his life, it was only because Olivier had reached out to him seven years ago that Enda had finally been brought into the family fold and had reconciled with his father. Jackson couldn’t stand him, always referring to him as ‘the bastard’ and badmouthing him. Amalia, having never met Enda Gallo, was already disposed to liking him because Jackson hated him so much. The clock struck noon and Amalia sighed. “Let’s get this thing over with.”

GAJENDRA LAID his daughter’s arm over his and smiled at her. “You make me very proud today, Amalia.” Amalia didn’t reply, keeping her expression blank as they walked down the long aisle of the church. At the altar, she could see Jackson waiting, a supercilious smile on his face. Olivier, his best man, smiled at her and winked. Amalia gave a little sigh. If she could just hang out and be friends with Olivier, then maybe she would get through this. There were hundreds of people there, most of whom she didn’t know. Some of her friends from the conservatory sat on the left-hand side of the church. Christina, her best friend, a no-nonsense Korean cellist, made a face at her and Amalia tried

not to laugh. Christina was the only one of her friends who knew the real reason behind this marriage. Amalia had told her she wasn’t going to ask her to be maid of honor, “because I want to save you for my real wedding someday.” Christina had grinned and toasted her. “Hell, yes. Let’s drink to that.” God, thought Amalia. Their nights out drinking seemed so far away now. Would Jackson stop her from enjoying her freedom? Probably. Amalia was nearly at the altar now, and she saw Macaulay Gallo smiling at her. Despite his weaknesses, she liked the old man …he just had no idea how to raise children and had left all the responsibility of the Gallo estate to Olivier. Amalia smiled back at him now. She could have worse as a father-in-law. Then her eyes met the man standing next to Macaulay and her breath caught in her throat. Tall, athletic, with dark curls messy around his head, he glowered at her, his bright green eyes intensely fierce. His face was set grimly and he looked like the most dangerous man she’d ever seen. And the most devastatingly handsome … Amalia stumbled a little and her father steadied her.

The man, who she guessed had to be Enda Gallo, stared at her. He hates me …he hates me …she thought, her heart sinking. There was no mistaking the man’s expression. Loathing. He looked like he wanted to kill her … Don’t be stupid. He doesn’t know you. And you don’t know him. Maybe that’s just how his face is; moody and dark, with a definite edge. His sensual mouth was set in a straight line, as if he were gritting his teeth, and Amalia felt as if she could feel the heat of anger coming from him. As she passed by him, she breathed in a wave of woodsy, clean cologne. It sent her senses reeling, and her body reacted, her nipples hardening and a pulse beating between her legs. He radiated pure animal, dangerous sex. Even as she was saying her vows in a monotone, she could feel his eyes on her. As Jackson, his face set in the fakest smile she had ever seen, recited his own vows, Amalia chanced a glance at Enda Gallo. His eyes were fixed on her face, and briefly, Amalia entertained the fantasy that he would stop the wedding, grab her hand, and run away with her, intending to take her away and fuck her senseless … Woah …where did that come from? Ama struggled to pull her attention back to the present and

realized, with a sinking heart, that she’d missed the moment. Her last moment of single life. She was married.

THE GREETING LINE, the dinner, and the speeches were all a blur. Ama didn’t bother to listen to the platitudes of her new husband. Even Macaulay seemed a little subdued. It was only when Olivier stood to speak that she took notice. He said all the things that were expected of him, and Ama could see he struggled with finding good things to say about his brother. When he turned to her, though, his eyes softened. “And to my new sister …I am very glad to have you in our lives, Amalia. We are privileged to have someone so brilliant, kind, and independent. I can assure you, sweetheart, that we will always care for you …and encourage you in your career and aspirations.” His meaning was clear—don’t worry, we won’t let Jackson control you—and Ama smiled back at him warmly, mouthing ‘thank you’ to him. She had an ally. It made her feel more secure. She saw Enda Gallo at the back of the ballroom, propped against the bar. He met her gaze and Ama felt a flush creep up her face. Why did he have such a visceral, feral

effect on her? It was a new feeling for her. She looked away, and when she looked back, he had gone.

THE RECEPTION SEEMED to go on for days, and by midnight, Amalia was drooping. She had changed from her wedding dress into a simple, dark burgundy slip dress, freeing her hair from the intricate bun she had worn for the ceremony and pulling it over one shoulder. She was tired of Jackson parading her around as if she were an object, and when she returned to the ballroom, she sought out her sister and Christina who were huddled in the corner, clearly making fun of the prissy society people. “Ama!” Christina was already drunk, and Amalia grinned at her. Christina hugged her friend and looked her up and down. “That’s better. You look more like you now.” “Agreed,” Ama laughed, but in the next moment, she felt Jackson’s hand on her upper arm pulling her away from her friends. “What the fuck are you wearing?” Ama wrenched her arm out of his grip. “It’s called a dress, Jackson.”

“On your feet,” he said darkly and pointed down to her comfortable and admittedly well-worn flat pumps. “Go and change into heels, right now.” Ama looked him in the eye. “I will not. I’ve had heels on all day and now I want to be comfortable. It’s after midnight, Jackson. I’ve played the part you wanted long enough for one day.” Jackson’s eyes were fierce on hers. “May I remind you, you are my wife now?” Ama’s smile was cold. “Wife. Not staff, Jackson. Did you hear me say ‘obey’ in my vows? No, you did not. Now, some of your guests are looking at us, probably wondering why I look so pissed off. Want me to tell them why?” Jackson’s jaw clenched. “We’ll talk about this later. In bed.” He stalked off and Ama saw him switch on the charm instantly as he spoke to the guests who had been watching them. Ama felt sick. No. No way would they do anything in bed. Ever. She returned to her friends, but soon excused herself. She needed to be alone for a few moments to get some air. She slipped out into the beautiful gardens surrounding the mansion and walked quickly down to the little Japanese garden that had

been her go-to place for escaping Jackson since they’d become engaged. There were a few lanterns giving the place a soft glow and she sat down on one of the stone seats and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in. Silence. Bliss. She only heard the tiny trickle of the water feature. Then she caught a breath of cigarette smoke and opened her eyes. Enda Gallo stood on the other side of the garden, staring at her. Ama’s heart began to pound against her ribs and she stood. She didn’t know what to do. Running would seem rude, but the expression on Enda’s face was …what? She turned to leave, and in a flash, he was beside her. Trapping her against a tree in the cage of his arms, he gazed down at her. Ama couldn’t look away. God, he was beautiful …those eyes, that craggy, yet boyish face. She noticed he had a half moon scar at the corner of his right eye, and without thinking, she traced the line of it with her finger. His eyes never left hers. Ama could barely breathe, such was the tension between them. Enda bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. Ama froze. What the hell was going on? Was he testing her? He kissed her again, and this time, she couldn’t

help but kiss him back. His lips were soft, but his kiss was rough---almost violent---and she found her fingers twisted in his dark curls as they embraced. When she felt, his hands push up her dress, a jolt of panic slid through her, but then he pressed his body against hers and she was lost. She had never wanted anyone as badly as she wanted Enda Gallo right here, right now. His fingers were caressing her through her panties and she felt herself dampen with longing. Cupping his cock through his pants, she marveled at the size of him and panicked at the same time. Could she do this? Should she? Could she really, finally, lose her virginity to her brother-in-law on her wedding night? Enda’s eyes were questioning now …and somehow Ama knew that if she asked him to stop, he would, without question. But she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted him here, now … Enda swept her off her feet and onto one of the stone tables that framed the little garden. He unzipped his fly, freed his diamond-hard cock from his pants, and climbed on top of her. Ama felt like this was a dream—a fantasy—right up until Enda Gallo thrust into her and she gave a little cry of pain. It faded quickly, and then all she

felt was an all-consuming pleasure as he made love to her, kissing her tenderly, his cock driving deeper and deeper into her with every stroke. His hands pinned hers to the table, his eyes locked onto hers as they moved together, her legs wrapped around his hips. Ama felt her orgasm build, and when she came, her back arched up off the table, pressing against him as she gasped and shuddered. Enda kissed her passionately, then raised his head and groaned as he too came, pumping thick, creamy semen deep into her belly. He gave her no time to recover; his mouth found her clit and teased it until she was weeping with desire, and then his cock was inside her again driving her onwards and onwards, toward her climax. Afterward, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He still had not spoken one word to her. He touched her face once more …and then he was gone. Ama, her legs still shaking, sat down quickly on the bench, blinking. Did that really just happen? Her body answered—god, yes, yes … She had just fucked Enda Gallo …or he had fucked her. Ama gave a disbelieving laugh. She sat there for a further five minutes, then made her way slowly back inside the house. Most of the guests had gone now and Christina was looking for her.

“Have to go, sweets, before I drink this place dry.” She hugged Amalia, then studied her. “Hey, are you okay? You look weird.” Ama blinked, then tried to smile. “Just tired, babe. Look, promise me we’ll get together for lunch on Monday.” “Promise.”

SHE WENT BACK into the main ballroom, her heart thumping at the thought of seeing Enda in there. But he was nowhere to be seen. Jackson came over to her. “Our guests have left—would have been nice of you to say goodbye. I hope you’ll be more sociable in the future.” “Fine.” She didn’t want to argue. “Goodnight, Jackson.” He caught her arm. “Where are you going?” “To bed.” “To our bed.” Ama sighed. He would never stop trying, would he? “No, Jackson. To my room. I told you once, and I meant it. I will never, ever have sex with you. Find one of your many admirers—I assume you’ve

worked your way through most of them anyway. I’m sure one of them will be up for it.” Jackson stared at her, his face angry, then stepped closer to her. “You will submit to me one day, little girl, or I’ll break you. I swear I will.” Ama wasn’t impressed. “Go away, little boy. You don’t scare me.” She turned and walked out of the room, running lightly up the huge staircase, hoping he wouldn’t follow her. Selima was in her room, packing her wedding dress away. “Dad’s just bringing the car around.” Selima had tears in her eyes as she hugged her sister. “I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me, Ama. Never. I just pray you find some happiness.” Ama held her sister, feeling the tears threatening again. “Go along now. Dad’s probably waiting. I’ll see you soon.” Selima nodded. “I love you.” “Love you too.”

ALONE, she locked the door and put a chair up against it. She didn’t trust Jackson not to have a spare key. There was no way she was letting him in.

Sure, enough, a half hour later, as she walked out of the shower, toweling her long hair dry, the door handle rattled. She smirked to herself as she heard him curse, but he soon gave up. Amalie sat down on the bed. She was married … and had lost her virginity all in one day. And to two different men. What the hell was I thinking? She already knew she regretted one of those things …and it wasn’t anything to do with Enda Gallo.

OLIVIER GALLO DROVE into town and was at the restaurant fifteen minutes before his half-brother arrived. He stood to hug Enda, who clapped him on the back. “Hey, brother, good to see you.” “You too.” They sat, and Olivier beckoned the waiter over. “Could we have the drinks menu please?” “No need,” Enda said in his deep, accented tones, “Red. Third down from the top.” Both brothers laughed, and the waiter nodded. He knew these Gallo brothers—they had been coming to this restaurant for a few years now and were good tippers. They treated him with respect, unlike their asshole brother Jackson.

The restaurant itself was mid-range and less flashy than the places Jackson liked. It had a frontage, which opened out onto a jetty overlooking of the Bay. They sat outside so Enda could smoke. Olivier grinned at him as he lit up a cigarette. “You ever going to give up?” Enda squinted through the smoke. “Probably not.” Olivier grinned. “Fair enough. How have you been? I didn’t get to see you much at the wedding.” “As I recall, you were doing your best man thing, trying to keep the toddler under control.” Olivier rolled his eyes. “Mostly for Amalia’s benefit. Poor kid looked shell-shocked.” “She’s no kid.” Olivier’s eyes opened wide. “You don’t like her?” “I didn’t say that. I just meant, she’s a grown woman. She knew what she was getting into.” Olivier chewed his lip for a moment. “She did it for her sister, Enda.” Enda nodded. “I’m just saying …it sucks for her.” “Yep.” They paused while the waiter brought their wine

and they ordered their food. Enda sat back and took a slug of red wine. “She’s beautiful.” “Who?” Enda rolled his eyes. “Our brother’s new wife.” “Of course. Sorry. Yes, she is. Also, brilliant, funny, and smart.” Enda nodded. “She also seems to have …what is the word …empathy?” He pronounced it ‘empatty.’ “Like I said, she’s a sweetheart.” “You like her?” Enda grinned at Olivier’s eye-roll. “As my sister, yes.” Olivier chuckled. “If it’s any of your business, I’m seeing someone.” “Oh, yes? Wait, please tell me it’s not that blonde from the reality show?” Olivier laughed. “No. That was …jeez, what was I thinking? Anyway, no. She’s a journalist from San Diego. Helena. Early days, but yeah, she’s cool.” Enda looked skeptical. “A journalist?” Olivier grinned. “Not that kind. She’s focused on business and financial stuff. I like her.” Their food arrived then—steamed salmon for Olivier, rare,

bloody steak and garlic butter for Enda. Olivier shook his head, laughing. “Dude, you are a walking heart attack.” Enda grinned, his smile lighting up his intense features. “Hedonism is my default position.” They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Olivier cleared his throat. “So, what did you think?” “Of what?” “Amalia.” “She’s beautiful.” “You said that.” Enda shrugged. “I don’t know her, Olly. I barely spoke to her. If you tell me she is a good person, I believe you.” Olivier speared some asparagus with his fork. “Enda …I’m worried. Lately, Jackson has been more …out of control than normal. This deal he made with Amalia’s father …you know he engineered it so that Ama was practically forced into this marriage.” “Ama, is it now?” Enda teased his older halfbrother, but then his smile faded. “That sounds just like Jackson, though. He always got what he wanted. Didn’t matter how.”

Olivier sighed. “I know, but this is a person we’re talking about. If and when she does something he doesn’t like …Enda, he has addictions. Cocaine, for one. And this thing with Ama …he’s obsessed with her. I’m worried.” Enda looked away from his brother’s gaze. “What can I do?” “Stick around ‘Frisco for a few months. Help me keep Jackson on a steady keel. See how the land lies.” Enda closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Olivier could see his internal struggle. Enda hated Jackson with the fury of a thousand suns, but he didn’t owe Amalia Rai anything. He didn’t even know her. “I’m thinking about dad in this too. If Jackson were to do something rash or worse, Dad wouldn’t survive it. I’m not saying you owe him anything either, but for me, maybe.” Olivier’s voice was low and Enda nodded. “I will stay. I can oversee the business from here. We have been thinking of opening an office here … maybe it’s time. I’ll talk to Raffaelo in the morning.”

JACKSON GALLO WAS FRUSTRATED . It had been a month since the wedding and Ama had barely spoken to him, let alone touched him. She attended functions with him and behaved impeccably, but he couldn’t bust through those walls of hers. Her bedroom door remained locked and barred …if it wasn't for the fact that his father slept in the same house, and that their staff also were there at night, he would have busted down that door and taken her. But he knew she would leave him if he forced himself on her. So, to satisfy his aching balls, he had started fucking other women almost immediately after the wedding. If Ama guessed, she didn’t seem to care, and it drove him mad. It had been particularly galling that, since the wedding, Gajendra Rai’s business had flourished, being linked to the Gallo name. And Amalia’s sister, Selima, had settled into her new life as a student in Los Angeles. It seemed to Jackson that Amalia had reaped the rewards of their union, while he still hadn’t. He sat in his office now and decided to call her. She picked up the phone eventually, sounding harassed. “What do you want, Jackson?” He rankled. “Well, for one, I’d like you to speak to me with respect.”

Amalia sighed. “I’m busy, Jackson, What do you want?” There was no noticeable shift in her tone. “I would like to take you out to dinner tonight.” “Fine.” “Be ready at eight.” “Fine.” The phone clicked in his ear. So much for sweet nothings. Jackson put his phone down and smiled to himself. He’d actually arranged to have dinner with his brothers that night, but he couldn’t resist bringing Ama and showing her off to them. Look at my glorious wife. Look how beautiful she is. Suddenly an idea struck him and he laughed to himself. Flicking through his contacts on his phone, he made the call, smiling to himself.

AMA SAW Enda as soon as they entered the restaurant and knew Jackson had set this up on purpose. “I didn’t know we were having dinner with your brothers.” Jackson smiled. “Family time.” Ugh. More like bragging time. She was being trotted out like a prize horse. But at the moment,

she could think of nothing else, but Enda Gallo’s eyes on her. God, she’d forgotten just how gloriously good looking he was. Olivier stood and kissed her cheek, and then she was in front of Enda. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Bella.” That voice—deep, mellifluous, accented—was dripping with sex. She wondered if he could see the blatant longing in her eyes. She was mostly silent through dinner, ignoring Jackson as much as she could, to Enda and Olivier’s obvious amusement. Olivier distracted them all with jokes, and Enda, too, she found, was fun to be around. He and Olivier were obviously close, and both busted Jackson’s chops, which was fine by her. For once, she saw Jackson as he really was—the baby of the family. Despite his bragging, he was still just a little kid. Olivier and Enda were men. She couldn’t help, but compare them. Jackson, his dark blonde hair slicked back; Oliver, neatly trimmed beard and dark brown eyes, so beautifully dressed. Then there was Enda—his looks had a wildness to them, a devil-may-care look. He oozed easy sex appeal. God, I want you, Ama thought, then pushed the thought away. He was off-limits. At least, now he was. “What are you smiling at?” Jackson demanded of her suddenly, and Ama jumped slightly. Jackson’s

arm had been along the back of her chair, possessively, and her back ached from sitting forward to avoid him touching her. “Just marveling at how different you are from your brothers,” she said coolly. You don’t snap at me like that. Ever, her eyes said, and Jackson backed off. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go freshen up.” In the bathroom, she splashed some water on her face and tried to stop thinking about Enda. When she finally got up her courage to go back to the table, she exited the bathroom. She gave a little cry of surprise as two hands gripped her waist from behind and pulled her back into the dark alcove. She turned and saw Enda smiling down at her. “Hello again.” His voice sent thrills through her body, and when he kissed her, she couldn’t help, but give a little moan of desire. They were hidden from sight, and when Enda slid his hands under her skirt, Amalia’s body reacted, curving into his. “I want you so badly,” she whispered, and Enda grinned, his lips rough against hers. “If it wouldn’t get us arrested, cara mia, I would fuck you right here. Sadly, I think my brother’s suspicions would be aroused.” “I’m not sleeping with him. I don’t know why it’s

important to me that you know that, but it is.” Enda stroked her cheek. “I know, Bella. Listen …I must see you again. Can I come to your office?” She nodded and gave him the address. “I know this is wrong, but …” His lips silenced hers and she could feel his erection through his pants. God, she wanted him so badly. Her skin felt like it was on fire. She went back to the table a few moments before Enda, but couldn’t help but feel that their lust for each other was obvious. Jackson seemed not to notice, though, and when Enda returned, there was nothing in Jackson or Olivier’s glances that gave anything away. Ama felt sick with excitement. He wanted her … what the hell was she supposed to do? She barely knew him, but she knew, without a doubt, that she was falling for Enda Gallo.

AS OLIVIER and Amalia walked ahead of them, Jackson held Enda back with a touch of a hand. He smiled without humor at his half-brother. “I hope we will see you at the house more often.” Enda looked askance. “That’s new. Since when?”

Jackson’s expression was mocking. “Now I’m happily married; I just want us to be family. And when my children are born …well …” He smiled smugly, and Enda wanted to pound his face in. “Fine.” He turned and walked away, catching up with Olivier and Ama. He had no time for Jackson’s games. Since that farce of a wedding, all he could think about was Ama. When he had seen her walking down that aisle, apparently terrified, his heart had started to beat quicker, and when their eyes had met, a thrill of desire had run through him. Later, in the garden, he hadn’t been able to help himself when he saw her so sad and so lovely in that slip of a dress, her long hair tumbling around her shoulders. No one that beautiful should be that unhappy. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, but when she’d looked up at him, her lovely eyes so troubled, her dusky skin glowing in the low light, her lips so red and plump, it was the most natural thing in the world to kiss her. As soon as their lips had touched, he had known he was lost. Making love with her …yes, he should feel guilty, and he would do if it had been any other man’s wife. Not that the guilt had stopped him before. But something about Ama was different. He knew it had been an arranged marriage and that she was an unwilling participant in it. And, god, he had wanted her so badly …

HE AND OLIVIER said goodbye to Ama and Jackson as they got into their car. Ama met his gaze and smiled slightly. Her eyes told him everything he wanted to know. As they drove away, Olivier sighed. “I hope he treats her right.” “God help him if he doesn’t,” Enda said darkly. Olivier studied him. “You don’t think …I mean, the thing with Penelope was years ago. He learned his lesson, right?” Enda looked at his brother. “God, Olivier, I really hope so.”

THE PACKAGE WAS WAITING for Ama on her desk when she arrived at work the following Monday. Her assistant, Lena, greeted her with a smile “Jeez, Ama, was that the honeymoon? That was quick.” Ama tried to smile. “We’ve postponed it for a while, because of work. It’s no problem, really.” Lena didn’t need to know Ama had refused to go on honeymoon with Jackson. She had no doubt that if she had been alone with him …god, she couldn’t bear to consider what might happen. She went into her office and dumped her purse on

the desk, glancing at the parcel. The label was handwritten—just her name in a beautiful cursive scrawl. “When did this come?” Lena grinned. “This morning. Girl, you should have seen the delivery guy. Gorgeous. Italian, I think.” She went back out to her desk, not realizing the frenzied excitement that had started in her boss. Ama touched the label, running her finger over her name. Picking it up, she opened the parcel. A burner phone. She switched it on. Only one number was programmed into it, under the name ‘He.' Ama smiled. She was really going to do this, wasn’t she? Have an affair … She thought about Jackson trying once again to get into her bedroom last night and her teeth clenched. Yes. She was going to do this. Hell, yes. She closed her office door quietly and pressed the dial button. Her heart was beating against her ribs and adrenaline spiked in her when she heard his voice. “Cara mia …” “Hey there …He.” She chuckled, hearing him laugh. “I thought that was the safest name I could come up with. How are you today?” “Better now that I’ve heard your voice,” she said

softly, “When can I see you?” “Can you be free for lunch?” “I can.” God, she felt like a love-struck teenager. Enda laughed. “Good. Write this address down.” He gave her an address in Russian Hill. “Take a cab. I’ll meet you there.”

AT NOON , a very nervous, but excited Ama was in a cab, being driven to Russian Hill. When she got there, Enda was waiting outside an apartment building. He took her hand and led her inside. “I rented an apartment. I thought it would be safer.” Ama felt like she was in a dream. In the elevator, Enda took her in his arms and kissed her. ‘Hello again,” he said softly, and she smiled up at him. The ‘apartment’ was, in fact, the penthouse of the building, and Ama stood open-mouthed at the door, suddenly feeling intimidated. Enda laughed. “You live in a mansion and an apartment is what scares you?” Ama relaxed, chuckling. “Sorry. It’s beautiful.” Enda came to her. “You’re beautiful. This is just bricks and mortar. Come with me.”

He led her into the bedroom, beautifully decorated in gray and navy. Enda’s fingers were at the belt of her wrap dress. “I’m sorry, Bella, I can’t wait any longer …” Ama gave a soft moan as he pulled open her dress and dropped to his knees, his mouth on her belly, his tongue tracing a circle around her navel. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he pulled down the lacy cup of her bra and took her nipple into his mouth, teasing the small bud until it grew hard and sensitive. She closed her eyes as he did the same to the other nipple, and then he was sliding her panties down and burying his face in her sex. Holy hell …the feeling of his tongue sliding along her sex, lashing around her clitoris, then plunging deep into her red and swollen cunt was intoxicating. Her limbs felt they were liquefying. Enda pushed her gently onto the bed and spread her legs wide, eager to taste her further. He began to slide two fingers in and out of her. Ama was gasping, her entire body aflame, and she came shuddering and moaning. “I want to taste you,” she whispered, and Enda grinned. He stripped down quickly as Ama shed the rest of her clothes, sitting up, then taking him in her mouth. She had no idea if she was doing it right, but she went with her instincts, tracing the shaft up and

down with her tongue and teasing the tip. She heard Enda moan appreciatively as she began to move his cock in and out of her mouth, sucking gently and massaging his sac with her hand. With the other hand, she dug her fingernails into his buttock and heard his hissed “Yes!” His obvious enjoyment made her heart soar, and when he drew away and pushed her back onto the bed, his cock was almost straining, engorged, and rock-hard. Enda crushed his mouth against hers as he hitched her legs around his waist. “Are you ready for me, baby?” Ama gave a frustrated moan, and he laughed before launching his cock into her and ramming his hips against hers. Ama gave a cry of intense release and clung to him as he fucked her, her fingernails digging into the toned muscles of his back. “God, Enda …yes …harder …harder …” He obliged, laughing, and kissed her passionately. She was utterly lost in this man’s arms, completely at the mercy of his body and his desire for her … Jesus, his cock was incredible, and she was amazed she was able to take him in so deeply. She clung to him, wanting to savor every moment of his skin against hers, his mouth hungrily kissing hers, and the clean scent of him. She came again, hard, and Enda reached his climax,

pumping cum deep inside her. She didn’t want him to pull away at first, and so, for a few minutes, he stayed inside her, kissing her tenderly. “Bella Ama,” he whispered in that deep, sensual voice, and Ama sighed happily. Finally, he lay at her side, propped up on his elbow, gazing down at her. His hand traced a path down her body, his long, warm fingers splaying over her belly. “Ama? May I ask you something?” Ama smiled up at him. “Anything.” “Before your wedding …had you ever made love?” She gave a half-embarrassed chuckle. “Is it that obvious? No, I hadn’t, Enda. I was a virgin.” “It surprises me …and to answer your question— no, it’s not obvious. At all. Just a hunch on my part. You are an incredible lover, my darling.” My darling. The words thrilled her. She stroked his face. “About the wedding …Enda, you saved that day for me. I was so miserable, but when I saw you in the church …god, I have never felt like that before.” Enda smiled. “Me either, although my reputation would probably contradict that.” Ama grinned. “Luckily, I knew very little about

you. I know very little about you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.” She sighed. “If I had met you before …well, it wasn’t even as if I had a choice in marrying Jackson.” Enda nuzzled his nose to hers. “I know. Olivier told me the reason. I think you are a selfless person.” “Sometimes I can’t believe this is modern times,” she muttered, half to herself. Enda studied her. “Ama …why were you a virgin? Can I ask, or is that too personal?” She smiled at him. “Like I said, you can ask me anything. The reason is …I know it’s modern thinking to just enjoy yourself and sleep with anyone and that’s an absolutely fine way to live. It just wasn’t for me. Before now, I was completely focused on my work.” “I would love to hear you play sometime.” She kissed him. “And so you shall. We have a recital coming up at the end of the month, at the conservatory.” “I’ll be there.” He moved his body on top of her. “When do you have to be back at work this afternoon?” Ama grinned, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Not for an hour or two.” “Hmm,” he grinned and plunged his cock into her. “What shall we do for an hour or two?” Ama moaned as he thrust harder and harder until she was screaming his name.

L ENA EYED

HER .

“Why are you glowing?”

Ama, knowing that the multiple orgasms that Enda had given her were the reason, shrugged. “Just having a good day.” She went into her office and slid the burner phone from her purse into her desk. In the small bathroom attached to her office, she looked in the mirror and saw her eyes shining. Her skin indeed was glowing. You look like a woman who’s been thoroughly and expertly fucked. Enda Gallo. My lover. She kept saying it to herself over and over as she worked, and when she went to teach her class that afternoon, her good mood infected her students and she had a blast with them. Driving home, though, the usual dread set in. She could barely stand to be in the same room as Jackson, and it was with relief that she saw Olivier’s car in the driveway.

She was smiling when she went in, still lost in her memories of the afternoon, and distracted. She didn’t see Jackson approach her until he crushed his lips against hers. Horrified, she pushed him away. “Take your hands off me.” Jackson was unrepentant, grasping her upper arm. “Come. We have a visitor.” Olivier stood and hugged her. She deliberately made a fuss of him to annoy Jackson and was rewarded with a glare from her husband. “This is a nice surprise …you’ll stay for dinner, yes? Where’s Mac?” “Upstairs, not feeling well.” Jackson’s tone was dismissive. Olivier smiled at her. “Love to stay. How are you?” “In the four days since I saw you last?” She grinned at him. She had the feeling that his presence was for her benefit; Olivier had an air of the protective older brother about him.

OVER DINNER , a sumptuous duck dish prepared by Mac’s chef, Ama and Olivier chatted easily, mostly ignoring the glowering presence of Jackson. He

finally had enough of not being the center of attention. “I hear your father’s business is in trouble again,” he said suddenly. Ama looked at him, her expression smooth. “Not that I know of, but then I haven’t spoken to my father in a while.” Jackson smirked. “The cash injection I gave him soon got spent. Seems your bride price wasn’t enough. That’s what you get for having a cheapskate dad, I suppose.” “Jackson,” Olivier’s tone was harsh. “That’s enough.” Ama was staring at Jackson with undisguised disgust. “And, yet, my ‘bride price’ wasn’t enough to allow you everything you wanted, was it?” Jackson’s smile faded, and Ama realized he’d probably been boasting about his conquest of her to his brothers. For a moment, she regretted saying anything. Olivier looked uncomfortable. Ama took a slug of wine and tried to ease the atmosphere. “Listen, we are having a recital at the conservatory at the end of the month. Would you like to come, Olly? Bring a date?”

Olivier nodded. “I would love to …are you playing?” She nodded. “Although, I’m very rusty. I need to practice more than I have been. It’s hard to find the time with work being so hectic.” “We should get you a piano here,” Jackson said suddenly. “Then you could practice here, and maybe I could see more of you.” Ama didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he being friendly or setting a trap for her? “That might be a solution,” she said carefully. Jackson gave a nod. “Consider it done.” Ama exchanged a glance with Olivier. She hated that every conversation she had with her husband was loaded, making her feel tense and jumpy. She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You okay?” Olivier, of course, was the one asking, and she smiled at him. “Just tired.” From fucking your glorious halfbrother, she wanted to scream at Jackson, but then she felt remorse. Maybe her own attitude wasn’t helping the marriage. She wasn’t going to go soft on him …but she could make an effort to be friendlier.

Was she so scared of leading him on? Yes. The thought of Jackson making love to her made her want to vomit. He had bought her, for chrissakes. That wasn’t love. That was possession. Ama felt sick and pushed her chair back. “Forgive me, Olivier …Jackson. I really am tired. I think I’d better go lie down. Will you excuse me?” “Of course.” Olivier stood as she got up and kissed her cheek. “Get some rest, honey.” She smiled at him gratefully and thought, if I weren’t already falling for Enda, it would be so easy to love you, you sweetheart of a man. She glanced at Jackson. “Goodnight, darling,” he said in an even tone. She nodded. “Goodnight, Jackson.”

THE NEXT EVENING , when she returned from work, a Bösendorfer Imperial Concert Grand piano was waiting for her in the drawing room. Ama couldn’t believe it. She sat down on the stool and ran her fingers lightly over the keys.

“I hope you like it.” She turned to see Jackson in the doorway, watching her. She cleared her throat. “It’s too much.” “No.” He walked over and pulled up a chair next to her. “Ama …we have gotten off on the wrong foot. I know you don’t love me, and I’m not saying that I’m in love with you. But I want the chance to be. At least the chance to see if we can make this work. I’m not under any illusion that you won’t file for divorce the moment the contract is up. But maybe we could enjoy these two years.” Ama considered his words. “Jackson …I don’t want to live in a house of misery, where I’m afraid to sleep with my door unlocked. Let’s get one thing straight. I will never, ever sleep with you. Ever. But if we can put that aside and tolerate that …we could try to be friends. Companions. If you need sex, feel free to look around. There are plenty of open marriages.” Careful now, she told herself, don’t give him any reason to suspect you. Just because your brain is still frazzled from having Enda Gallo’s cock buried deep in you this afternoon …careful. Jackson’s expression was carefully composed.

“Fine.” He got up and walked away from her, and she sighed. The house was too quiet tonight. She went to her room and locked the door behind her. Had she done the right thing? Or had she aroused his suspicions, which would make sneaking off to the apartment much harder? Ama reached into her purse and pulled out the burner phone. She had been about to put it on her desk at work before she left, but something told her to take it home. She wanted to know that she could talk to Enda whenever she wanted. That she could hear his voice. This afternoon she had spent another blissful hour in his arms, but they didn’t have time to actually talk or to find out about each other in the stolen moments they spent. Not that she was complaining …her lover had ravished her body, leaving her shivering with pleasure. She smiled at the memory and went to draw a bath.

E NDA GALLO WENT BACK to his hotel. He knew he could stay at the apartment he had rented, but every time he went there increased the chances he would be recognized and that his cover would be blown. And, besides, without Ama in his arms, the place seemed lonely, echoing with the memory of her. At

least at the hotel he could distract himself and get some work done. Back in Italy, his property business had taken him years to build, but now he was about to form a partnership with his friend, Raffaelo Winter, to open a chain of boutique hotels around the world. He called Raffaelo at home in Naples now. It was eight a.m. in Italy, and Raffaelo picked up straight away. “Ciao, Raff.” “Hey, ciao, my friend.” Raffaelo sounded relaxed, and Enda guessed that he must be at home with Inca, his gorgeous wife of almost ten years. Enda had met Inca soon after she and Raff had become engaged and had been devastated when she had been stabbed by a jealous stalker. Enda had tried to be there for Raff as much as he could during her recovery and the time they had spent together had only strengthened their bond. People remarked on their physical similarities, but Enda had laughed off the suggestion they could be related. His mother, his dear mother, had passed away only recently, and it was due to Raff and Inca—and Raff’s twin brother, Tommaso—that he hadn’t felt entirely alone in Italy. He chatted easily with his friend now before Raffaelo told him his news. “We’re coming to the

States soon. Inca wants to visit her friend, Olly, in Seattle, so we thought we’d do that and then come down to SF. Sound good?” Enda was overjoyed. “God, man, yes. How soon can you come?” Raff laughed. “That bad, eh? Well, we’re flying to Seattle this Friday, staying for a week, and then down to you. So, ten days? We don’t have any restriction on time, so we can stay as long as we’re welcome. Bo is performing at Pride, then doing a couple of nights at the Fillmore, so Tommaso and their vast brood will be there too.” Enda grinned. Tommaso had fallen in love with singing superstar Bo Kennedy at Raffaelo and Inca’s wedding—or just after—and between them, they now had seven kids: five of their own, Matteo, Tommaso’s son, and Tiger, Bo’s teenage boy, both from previous relationships. They divided their time between Italy and the United Kingdom and so they were rarely in the US. Suddenly Enda wanted to tell Raffaelo about Ama —about how much he cared for her and thought about her all of the time. He so desperately wanted to introduce her to his friends. Maybe there was a way … “Hey listen, before you go, I wanted to float an

idea to you. I know we said on the next project we would concentrate on hotels, but how about we look into building music schools for the less privileged? Jackson’s new wife,” he almost choked on those words, “Amalia, is a classical pianist and tutor, and she got me thinking maybe there’s a new outlet.” He knew he was rambling now. “Anyway, just something to think about.” “Of course. I like the idea of that. Let’s talk when I’m in town. Maybe we should meet Amalia.” Enda punched “Definitely.”

the

air

silently,

grinning.

When he had ended the call, Enda went to shower, then got into bed. What he would give to take Ama to meet his friends as his partner. Two years, he said to himself. Two years and she’ll be free, and then I’m going to marry that girl. The thought brought him up short. Marriage? Wow. Marriage had never been something he had aspired to or wanted, but with her …with Ama … well, damn. His phone bleeped, and it was with delighted pleasure that he recognized the number as Ama’s burner phone. Missing you. Thinking only of you.

Enda smiled and tapped out a reply. I wish you were with me right now, Bella. Me too, gorgeous. Sleep well.

E NDA BROUGHT up the subject of the music schools at dinner with his family, careful not to give away that he and Ama had already discussed it earlier that day, when they had spent a blissful afternoon in his apartment, screwing each other senseless and talking. They were learning so much about each other in those precious hours. Enda discovered that, despite her great beauty, Ama hated to be judged on that, and preferred to be complimented on her brain or her humor. That underneath her almost regal presence, she was, at heart, a book nerd, an art lover, and someone who declared she would be unable to live without music. Not just classical, either, but rock, and cheesy pop songs—and Johnny Cash. Enda found himself opening up to her about his family—or lack of it—until Olivier came to find him. “I never knew they existed,” he admitted, and then grinned at her. “And in the end, I got the best and the worst of brothers. I love Olivier. He gave me a way to know my father, and he’s been nothing but supportive. I even suspect if he had known

about us, that he would have been our biggest cheerleader.” Ama smiled at him. “I was thinking the same thing, actually. Still, I don’t think it’s a good idea to clue him in. I would hate to put him in an awkward position.” “Agreed.”

SO , now, as they all sat around Macaulay Gallo’s vast dinner table, Enda made sure he didn’t make eye-contact with Ama when he told them his and Raff’s ideas. Jackson made a scoffing noise. “Really? Where’s the profit in that?” Enda looked at him coolly. “I would think, in your position, that you would see that money isn’t everything. How many more billions do you need, Jackson? Isn’t it time you gave something back?” “Didn’t I just broker the deal that saved Amalia’s sister from an abusive marriage?” Jackson grinned at his wife, who stared back in dislike. “I don’t think that’s what Enda meant,” she said softly. She turned to her lover and tried not to show in her face how much she felt for him, “I think it’s

a wonderful idea. Schools all over the country are having their funding for the arts cut to almost nothing. They’re forcing the kids to focus on science and math and disregarding the kids who were born to be artists, actors, musicians. It’s just wrong.” Enda smiled at her. “Maybe you should come along, meet Raffaelo, and be our consultant on the inside.” “Love to.” Ama hid a grin, obviously realizing what he was up to, but Jackson cleared his throat. “I don’t see why that would help.” Ama turned cold eyes on him. “I wasn’t asking your permission.” Enda saw the anger in Jackson’s eyes. His father did too, apparently, because Mac changed the subject hurriedly. “Jackson, I was going to ask you. I got a call today from that interior designer you told me about. She was under the impression that you have arranged for some work to be done.” Jackson nodded. “I have. All of the bedrooms, except yours, Dad, because I know you’ve just had it remodeled.” “Excuse me?” Amalia looked bemused. “All of the bedrooms?”

Jackson nodded, his smile smug. “Yes, darling, all of them. I thought we could take a penthouse at a hotel while the work is being done.” Ama flushed angrily, and Enda narrowed his eyes at his brother. He was trying to force her to share his bed. Asshole. Ama picked up her wine and sipped it casually. “A single room will be okay with me. Or I can stay with a friend.” There it was. In the open. With those simple words, Ama had outed the sham of her marriage to both Olivier and Macaulay. If she had shouted, ‘I’m not sleeping with Jackson,’ at the top of her voice, it couldn’t be more obvious. Enda watched Jackson’s face turned from red to purple and suddenly felt afraid for Ama. He knew of old what Jackson’s temper was like.

P ENELOPE …three years ago, she had borne the brunt of Jackson’s temper and what had happened had scarred everyone …

T HREE

E NDA

Y EARS AGO

TOOK

…

a slug of whiskey and turned back to

the party. He hated these things, but his father, Macaulay Gallo, who he couldn’t get used to calling ’dad’ yet, had insisted. “If you want to be part of this family, Enda, you must see how we operate.” He had meant it kindly, but it struck at the heart of Enda’s misgivings. He hadn’t yet decided that he wanted to be part of this family. It had been four years ago when Olivier had found him, and since then, he had grown close to his older brother, but his father was still distant. The youngest Gallo son, Jackson …Enda had loathed him on sight. He looked over to him now and saw him standing with his girlfriend, Penelope. They were obviously having some sort of argument, Jackson berating his girlfriend for some slight he perceived she had made. Penelope was a lovely young woman. With caramel-colored hair and dark blue eyes, she was the head of a local charity. Her family was old money, but Penelope worked tirelessly to help others. What the hell she was doing with Jackson, Enda had no clue.

IT

WAS TWO DAYS LATER ,

in the city, that Enda had

seen her meeting with another man. From the delight on his face—and hers—they were obviously in love. Enda was glad. Penny looked radiant as she talked with the man. Good, Enda thought. Jackson can go fuck himself. You go for it, Penny. He had intended to just walk away, but she suddenly spotted him and the color drained from her face. Enda cursed to himself, then walked over. “Hey, Penny. Hey there, I’m Enda Gallo.” he smiled at her companion and shook his hand. “Danny McNamara. Would you like to join us?” The young man looked uncomfortable. Enda hesitated, looking at Penny. He didn’t want to be rude. Penny nodded tightly. “Just for a minute, then I have to be going.” They sat, and Penny explained who Enda was. The young man, Danny, nodded. Enda couldn’t bear the tension. “Look, I just wanted to say. I’m glad. You both look so happy. Hell, I’m delighted for you, Penny. You have my word; Jackson will not hear of this from me. Fuck him.” Danny looked relieved and Penny looked close to tears. She put her hand on his arm. “Thank you, Enda.” She sighed, wiping away her

tears. “I tried to finish it with Jackson …he won’t accept it. He just cuts me off. I can’t do it anymore, Enda. He’s …abusive. He cheats constantly. And he …” She broke off and shook her head. Enda and Danny exchanged a concerned glance. Penny didn’t have to say anymore. That Jackson beat her was obvious. “You don’t have to worry about it anymore, Pen,” Danny said. Enda nodded. “Is there somewhere you can stay while he gets the message?” Penny nodded, looking over at Danny. “We’ve just bought an apartment in Palo Alto. He’ll have no clue we’re there.”

A WEEK LATER , Penny had called Enda in hysterics. “It’s Danny. He was in a hit-and-run. Oh god, oh god, they’ve taken him to the hospital, but it’s bad, Enda, so bad. I know it was Jackson …please, can you come?” He raced to the hospital, but it was too late. Danny was pronounced dead on arrival, and Enda had to help a hysterical Penny while processing his own shock. Was Jackson really capable of murder? He didn’t want to believe it, but something in his half-

brother’s make up made him think he would be. A month later, his worst fears were realized.

A STILL- GRIEVING P ENNY left her office just after eight p.m. and went down to the parking garage. She got into her Mercedes and was distracted by her phone ringing. She smiled when she saw who was calling. “Hey, Enda, how are you?” “I’m okay, sweetheart. I was just thinking about you. How're things?” “I …” Penny never got to tell him. From her backseat, a masked attacker pounced, one arm curling around her neck. When she grabbed at his arm to try and prize it free, he drove a knife into her stomach again and again. Penny screamed until she could no longer breathe when the blood loss and shock grew too much. Her killer was savage and merciless, stabbing her again and again until she slumped in the seat. In her last moments, she could hear Enda screaming her name and the final whisper of her killer. “Jackson Gallo wants you to know—nobody leaves him.”

With a last thrust of the knife, he stabbed Penny in the heart and ended her life.

E NDA WOULD NEVER FORGET that night. The sound of a defenseless woman being brutally murdered … and the worst thing was, in the midst of it, Jackson had walked into the room where Enda was with a triumphant look on his face, and Enda knew, for sure, his half-brother was a murderer. Enda flew across the room and punched him, the brothers rolling around until Olivier pulled Enda off Jackson. Enda stormed out of the room, calling the police as he got into his car and sped to Penny’s office. He got there just as the police arrived. He would never forget the sight of Penny, slumped in the driver’s seat, covered in blood. She had been butchered. That much was obvious. Enda had no compunction in telling the police everything he had heard and that he thought Jackson was behind the murder.

JACKSON WAS QUESTIONED about Penny’s murder, but never arrested or charged. There was simply no evidence against him. Penny was buried, at her request, next to Danny, but at her funeral Jackson played the part of the grieving boyfriend perfectly. Staggered by the lack of justice wrought by

Jackson’s position and billions, Enda was repelled by him and had left the country. He’d stayed away from his family since then—even Olivier, who he adored. Olivier had finally flown to Italy to plead with him not to abandon him and Mac, just because of Jackson. It had taken some persuasion, but finally, Enda agreed. When Olivier told him, a few years later, that Jackson was marrying Amalia, Enda couldn’t help but feel a chill go down his spine. When he found out the circumstances of the marriage, the arrangement, and the coercion of Amalia Rai to marry Jackson, Enda had felt the shock keenly. Enda determined then to go to the wedding and make sure that the signs weren’t there —that Jackson had finally fallen in love for real. He had been disappointed, but not shocked, when he saw in his younger half-brother the same possessive contempt that he had shown Penny. Amalia was there to be his property. Enda was pleased to see that Amalia hadn’t been as subservient as Jackson would like, even on her wedding day. And when he, Enda, had made love to the beautiful bride in the garden just hours later, he’d seen her strength. He just hoped it was enough to save her life.

AMA WAS RELIEVED when Olivier accompanied them home. “I just want to talk to dad for a while,” he said, but she knew he was there to keep the peace, at least until Jackson calmed down. Enda had been desperate to do the same, but she had shaken her head at him. I don’t want him to guess, she tried to communicate with her look, and she thought Enda had gotten it. God, she was crazy about that man, though. She would call him later, when it was safe. She went to her room as soon as she got home and began to run a bath. Going back into her room, she checked the door was locked, then propped her usual chair underneath the handle. God, what a way to live. But Jackson scared her. There was violence in him, she was sure, and it wasn’t far from the surface—ever. Ama knew Olivier and Enda thought so too. She stripped off and sank into the tub, feeling the soothing water ease her aching body. She ached from tension constantly now. The only time she ever relaxed was with Enda, naked and gasping for air in his arms. God, that man … She slipped her hand between her legs and began to rub, thinking about the last time they’d made love. It had been a slow, leisurely afternoon of making love, Enda cradling her in his arms as his cock

plowed deep inside her. God, would she ever get tired of this? He had flipped her onto her stomach, parted her buttocks gently, then asked if she was sure. She had nodded, and he had eased into her ass, his other hand stroking her clit. She’d come almost violently, surprising herself. When he’d wrapped his tie around her wrists and fucked her, holding her hostage to him and his huge cock. She’d loved every moment of being dominated by him. Even when she was straddling him, he was in charge, impaling her on his cock, gripping her hips with strong fingers, and cumming on her belly and breasts. Amalia could hardly bring herself to leave him every day, and she fantasized now about going home to him in the evening. About opening the front door, only to be greeted by his fierce kiss, his hands pushing up her skirt, and his cock thrusting into her as he fucked her hard against the wall. Ama gave a soft moan as she stroked and dreamed her way to an orgasm. Relaxing afterward, she wondered if she could call him later and maybe indulge in some phone sex. That man has turned you into a nympho, she grinned to herself. God, I love you, Enda Gallo. Her eyes flew open and she gasped in shock. Oh god …she did love him. She was completely in love

with the man. “Shit,” she said and got out of the bath. Love complicated everything, and it made her uneasy. What if she couldn’t hide it much longer? What would Jackson do? And she didn’t want to risk Enda’s position in the family. From what he had told her, he had loved being a part of it, for Olivier’s sake at least. The two Gallo’s she loved with her whole heart would be hurt and she couldn’t stand that. She dried herself, wrapped the towel around her, and went back into her bedroom to dry her hair. She was lost in thought as she grabbed her brush. “Nice show you gave me there.” Ama gasped and whirled around. Jackson was leaning against her door, smiling nastily. Ama reddened at the thought of him watching her masturbate. “What the fuck are you doing in my room, asshole?” Jackson smiled, then in a flash, he had her by her throat. “Watch what you call me, wife. I’ve had just about enough of your insubordination.” Ama kicked out at him, struggling to get free. He

clamped a hand over her mouth. “Ssh, ssh …” He lay on top of her. He took out his phone and showed her a picture. “Do you recognize this apartment?” Ama went cold. “It’s my sister’s place.” “That’s right. Now, this photo was taken, oh, about three minutes ago. Your sister’s alone there right now.” Ama stopped struggling. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jackson grinned and kissed her, grinding his mouth down on hers. Ama tasted blood. “One of the two Rai sisters is getting fucked tonight, Amalia. It’s up to you which one.” Ama’s horror was overwhelming. “You bastard … you leave her alone, you fucking bastard.” Jackson grinned. “That sounds like a decision to me.” He yanked her towel away, admiring her naked body. “God, it’s about time I got to see the goods. You’re so fucking sexy …” He was unzipping his fly now and Amalia started to cry. Would he really have Selima raped if Ama didn’t sleep with him?

Yes. You know he would. Oh my god … Jackson pushed her legs apart and thrust into her, and Ama cried out. Jackson clamped his hand over her mouth again. “Now listen to me, whore. I’m going to fuck you every night of our marriage, and you’ll let me, or I swear to god, I will hurt everyone you care about. Everyone. And I’ll finish with you, Amalia. I swear to god. And if you ever leave me? I’ll kill you. I’ll rip you apart.” He continued to thrust as silent tears poured down Ama’s cheeks. She closed her eyes as he pumped away, his cock shooting thin streams of cum inside her. No. No, this cannot be happening. He pulled out, satisfied. “Guess I got the worth of the bride price now.” Ama curled up in a ball and sobbed. Jackson chuckled. “Get used to it, little girl. I mean it when I say I’ll destroy you if you tell anyone about this. Anyone.” And then he was gone. Ama stayed curled up on the counterpane, shocked to her core about what had just happened. Rape. Jackson had raped her. He’d threatened to have her family attacked and threatened to kill her. How the hell was she ever going to survive this

marriage? Her burner phone vibrated in her nightstand drawer, but she couldn’t face talking to Enda—not to the man she loved when the man she despised had just done this to her. Ama wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and never wake up.

R AFFAELO W INTER BEAR - HUGGED his good friend Enda as soon as Enda saw them alight from the private plane. Inca, Raffaelo’s exquisite wife, was grinning and rolling her eyes at them. Enda laughed as Raffaelo released him and he embraced Inca. “Hello, gorgeous. Still married to this wretch, then?” Inca smiled at him. She had stunning eyes, he thought, warm and loving, and her face was perfection. Her long, dark hair was caught up in a ponytail, and she was adorably scruffy in t-shirt and jeans. Enda was hit with the thought that she and Ama would have a lot in common. Both IndianAmerican, both gorgeous talented and funny. They chatted as they drove in Enda’s limousine from Raffaelo’s private jet, and Enda marveled at the easy love between Raff and Inca. They had been through hell together, but were still as in love

as ever. Raffaelo, his dark curls now cropped close to his head and flecked with silver, sported a beard which made him look, according to Inca, like a ‘sexy grumpy professor.’” “And who knew my kink was sexy, grumpy professors?” she joked, and Raffaelo ran a finger down her cheek, grinning. Enda felt a spark of envy. How he would love to have this open, joking, fun relationship with Ama, but over the last week, she had been subdued and withdrawn. She told him she was just tired, but even though they had known each other for such a short time, he knew she was holding something back from him. When they made love, she clung to him as if she wanted to never let go, but it was tinged with a quiet desperation. Today, though, she would meet up with him and his friends in public, ostensibly to discuss the music school idea, but really, Enda hoped, just to bond with his friends. The music schools would provide good cover for Ama meet up with him and Raff, and if she and Inca were to become friends … “Hey, Enda? You in there? When are we meeting Amalia?” Enda checked his watch. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the hotel and get some sleep?

We’re not due to meet her until one.” Inca colored slightly. “We, um, slept on the plane.” She and Raff exchanged a conspiratorial grin, and once again, Enda felt a pang of loneliness.

AS THEY WERE SEATED at the restaurant, Enda looked up to see Amalia entering and speaking to the maître d’, then glancing over to him. Her face lit up when she saw him and he stood to greet her. “Ciao, Ama. Great to see you.” It felt weird to kiss her on the cheek, rather than taste her sweet mouth. She looked beautiful, but he could see dark violet circles under her eyes, and she looked like she had lost some weight. Her cheeks were slightly hollowed, and there was an air of sadness around her. What the hell was going on? Enda introduced her to Raffaelo and Inca, the latter of whom hugged the other woman. “It’s so good to meet you.” Ama smiled at her. “And you. I’ve heard so much about you both. And, damn, Raff, you and Enda could be twins.” Raffaelo grinned. “I already have one of those, but I know what you mean. Good to meet you, Ama.”

Enda wanted so badly to hold Ama’s hand as they sat together; he had to be satisfied with just sitting by her, breathing in her perfume. Inca grinned at him, and he realized she had guessed exactly what Ama meant to him. He was glad. The four of them chatted easily throughout dinner. Inca and Raff told them they were contemplating adoption, but at the same time, enjoyed their independence. “I love having Tommaso and Bo’s kids to stay, but when they go home, I have to admit, I’m exhausted. So …we don’t know. Maybe kids aren’t for us,” Inca shrugged and smiled at her husband. “Maybe not,” he agreed and laughed. “It would be harder for us to go on one of our adventures.” Inca told Ama about their penchant for travel. “We went to Peru last year, hiked up to Machu Picchu, and went to the Convento de San Francisco Ossuary.” “That was creepy. Entirely made out of human bones.” Raff shuddered, but Inca grinned. “I loved it. The worst was that rope bridge you made me walk across. God.” “Wuss.”

Inca play-punched his shoulder. “The words ‘handwoven’ and ‘bridge’ should never go together.” Enda, watching how easy and playful his friend’s relationship was, couldn’t help but slide his hand along Ama’s thigh. She started, dropping her fork, which slid from the table. “Oops, sorry.” She bent over to retrieve it, and her shirt rode up, revealing a strip of creamy, golden skin …and the very definite imprint of a boot, bruised into the skin of her side and stomach. Enda’s breath caught in his throat and Inca, who had seen it too, met his gaze in alarm. Jackson. The bastard. The fury burned in Enda’s throat, and when Ama sat up, tugging her shirt down and flushing, he saw her reaction to his confusion. Lunch was subdued after that. Raffaelo seemed a little confused by the sadness that had come over the other three, and when Enda and Ama said goodbye, he hugged his friend. “We will get together soon, yes?” Enda nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The two men watched the women hug, and Inca whispered something to Ama, who nodded, tears in her eyes.

E NDA TOOK an un-protesting Ama back to his apartment and poured them both a whiskey. As she sipped, he lifted her shirt and studied the horrendous pattern of bruises on her stomach, back and sides. “He did this.” She nodded, looking shattered. “Yes.” “That’s it. I’ve had it. I don’t care about anyone else but you. You need to leave that house tonight.” “No.” “No?” Enda was astonished. “I can’t. He …he’ll hurt people. People I care about.” “He’s hurting you!” “I can take it.” Enda lost it then. “How can you be so blind? You’re an intelligent, brave woman and he’s reducing you to what? His punching bag? Is he doing anything …?” He only got part way through the question before he realized. “Oh, dear god …is he raping you?” Ama gave a sob and nodded. Enda took her in his

arms. He wanted to kill Jackson right there, right then. “What’s he holding over you, baby? What is it?” She told him and he closed his eyes. He had no trouble believing Jackson would have Selima or anyone else Ama loved hurt or even killed. He could understand how Ama thought she was backed into a corner. Bastard. Enda sat down with her on his couch. “Ama, I know you want to protect your sister. I do. But I think there’s something you need to understand about Jackson. He’s …psychopathic. My father won’t hear it, and Olivier struggles with accepting it even though he knows it’s the truth. Has Olly told you about Penelope?” Ama shook her head, looking desolate and exhausted. “No.” Enda took a deep breath in. “Penny was Jackson’s girlfriend, of sorts, a few years back. They didn’t date for long; Penny could see what kind of man he was. So, she tried to end it. Jackson, of course, is never dumped. By anyone. When Penny met someone else, Danny, Jackson had them both murdered. Danny by a hit-and-run driver. Penny was stabbed to death in her car.” Ama looked as if she was going to throw up.

“Jesus. Jesus.” She bent double, wrapping her arms around herself. When she looked up at Enda, tears were flooding down her face. “What if he does the same to Selima?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I might leave him, but what if he has her killed before I’m even down the driveway? At the very least, he’ll destroy my father’s business.” “Inca saw the bruises too. What did she say to you?” Ama smiled through her tears. “She told me all I had to do was ask and she’ll be there for me. I love her already.” Enda took her in his arms. “I’m so scared for you, baby,” he said softly. “I swear, we will find a way out of this.” Ama nodded, pressing her lips against his. “I don’t want to go home, just for tonight. I’ll tell him our meeting with Inca and Raff went late, so I decided to stay in the city with friends.” Enda kissed her back. “Cara mia, I want to make you happy again.”

AMA PULLED AWAY from him and stood, pulling her shirt over her head and slipping out of her skirt. Enda pressed his lips to her belly, careful not to

hurt her bruises. Jackson certainly knew where to beat someone so that it wouldn’t show. Fucker. With a rush of adrenaline, Enda swept her into his arms and carried her to bed. Ama gazed up at him as he stripped. “Don’t wait, my darling. Don’t wait.” His cock, already ramrod hard and bobbing under its own weight, entered her and she shivered with pleasure as her cunt tightened around it. They fit together so perfectly it almost seemed unbelievable. They made love slowly and intensely until both came, shivering through a mellow orgasm. Enda kissed her tenderly. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” Ama shook her head and tried to smile. “No. You’re erasing bad memories, if that helps.” To his surprise, Enda found tears in his own eyes. “I hate this. I hate what he is doing to you.” Ama nodded, clinging to him. “I know. But I have to protect my family. Until I can figure out a way …” There was a furious pounding on the front door of the apartment and they both froze. Nobody knew they were there or even knew Enda owned the penthouse. Enda sat up and wrapped the sheet

around Ama. “Go into the bathroom and stay there. Keep the light off.” She nodded and disappeared into the dark room. Enda got up and tugged his jeans on as the knocking came again. Steeling himself, he tugged open the door. Olivier stood outside and Enda gaped at him. “Olly …what the hell?” Olivier shook his head. “No time for explanations now. It’s dad, Enda. He’s had a massive heart attack. He’s in the hospital.” Olivier looked devastated and scared. “Bring Ama. We’ll tell Jackson we picked her up on the way.”

AS THEY ALL three ran the corridors of the hospital, a million questions whirled around Ama’s brain. So, Olivier knew about her and Enda and knew about the apartment. How the hell did he know? She couldn’t think of a way that wasn’t negative. And that’s what was killing her—thinking bad things about Olivier, whom she adored, as she knew Enda did. She trusted—had trusted—Olivier with her life. And now … They saw Jackson up ahead, and for once, Ama felt sorry for the monster. At this moment, he looked

like the lost little boy, rather than the scheming rapist and possible murderer she now thought of him as. This was a different Jackson—vulnerable. She patted his arm awkwardly. “I’m so sorry, Jackson.” He looked right through her, ignoring Enda entirely and looked in desperation at his older brother. “They won’t tell me anything, Olly.” Olivier nodded, his face grim. “They’re probably still trying to do what they do, Jack. Let’s go sit together and wait.” Ama couldn’t bring herself to sit with Jackson, so she sat opposite him. She caught Olivier’s eye, and he smiled kindly. She felt a rush of relief that he wasn’t judging her for sleeping with Enda. Enda sat next to her, his arm across the back of her chair, and it was so tempting to just snuggle into him. He looked shocked, but grim-faced, and Ama could tell he was trying to keep it together. An hour later, the doctor came to see them. “I’m Dr. Friedan. I’m the chief of cardiology here,” she said and gave them a warm smile. “Mr. Gallo suffered a severe heart attack, as you know. Now, we’ve managed to stabilize him, but the next twenty-four hours are critical.” “Can we see him?”

Dr. Friedan shook her head. “I’d rather you didn’t for a few hours. Let him rest. He regained consciousness briefly, but he’s sleeping now. Come back in the morning.” After she’d gone, Jackson slumped in his chair. “I’m not leaving.” Olivier looked at Enda. “Maybe you should take Ama home and stay with her at the house until we have some news.” Ama looked at Jackson, who hadn’t even seemed to hear Olivier. “We should go.”

AT MACAULAY GALLO ’ S HOME, the place rang with emptiness. Ama didn’t want to sleep or go to the room where Jackson had been abusing her all week, so she and Enda made camp in the large kitchen. There was a large, well-worn couch and they sat there together, watching dawn break outside the window. “You know, it’s funny,” Enda said quietly, “Even now, I can’t think of him as my father. I know the DNA tests said he was—sorry, is, but …it’s Olivier I stayed for. If it had just been Mac and Jackson, then maybe I would have not been so involved with the family.” He smiled sadly at her. “But then I

wouldn’t have met you, amore mia.” Ama stroked his cheek. “So we have to talk about the fact that Olivier knows about us.” “It would seem.” They sat in silence, contemplating what that meant. Enda gave up. “I just can’t figure it out. We were so careful.” Ama was chewing her lip. “Do you think Jackson knows?” He shook his head. “No. Because if he did …” He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Ama knew he meant that if Jackson knew, they’d both probably be dead right now. Ama’s mind went back to what Enda had told her about Penelope. Ama had no problem imagining Jackson stabbing her to death for sleeping with Enda. She tamped down the terror. Better her than Enda …or Selima, but she didn’t say that out loud. Just after seven a.m., she finally fell asleep, wrapped in Enda’s arms as they lay on the couch together. At eight a.m. Olivier called them to tell them Macaulay was dead. The funeral was attended by hundreds of people.

Inca and Raffaelo came too, sad-eyed, hugging Enda and Olivier. Ama dutifully took Jackson’s arm as they followed the casket into the church and sat with him as the service began. Jackson seemed out of it, and Ama wondered to Enda if he had taken something to get through it all. Macaulay’s death had hit him hard. Gone was the hubris and posturing; Jackson was grieving. Even Enda had felt sorry for the –man—as much as he could. He couldn’t shake the anger he felt towards Jackson over his treatment of Ama—the threats to her family if she didn’t comply with him. He studied them as a couple now; Jackson’s perfectly coiffed hair and cleanly shaven face, next to Ama’s ethereal, sad beauty. No. They made no sense as a couple. Why was Jackson so entirely set on pretending they were? Enda was plagued with nightmares about Ama being murdered by one of Jackson’s goons. He pictured her in her car, gutted, blood everywhere…Jesus, man, stop it. He bent his head, closing his eyes to erase the images. He felt Raff’s hand on his shoulder and smiled at his friend gratefully.

AT

THE WAKE ,

Ama stayed with Jackson for a time,

then excused herself. She felt exhausted, drawn, and numb. She had liked Macaulay a lot, even though he was a weak man, and now that he’d gone…god, she would be alone in this house with Jackson. God knows what he would do to her when no one was there to stop him. She went to her room to change out of the formal black suit she had worn to the church and into a simple, but comfortable, black dress. She heard a soft knock on the door. “Come in.” Inca poked her head around the door and Ama sighed with relief. “Come in, please. I need some girl time.” Inca hugged her. “It’s awful. I’m so sorry.” She perched on the end of Ama’s bed and studied her. “How are you? Really?” Scared. That was the first thing that flew into her mind, but she bit it back. “Okay. Sad. He was a nice old coot.” Inca smiled. “He was. And sometimes, he had good DNA.” Ama chuckled. “Yes, sometimes.” Inca lowered her voice. “Ama, you can tell me anything. It’s pretty obvious, to Raff and me at least, that you and Enda are together. I don’t blame

you, or judge you, except to say …yay. Selfishly, I want my friend Enda to be happy, and it’s clear to me that you are the person for him.” Ama wanted to cry. It was such a relief to be able to be honest with someone about her feelings for Enda. “It’s true. It’s just complicated.” She told Inca about the threats Jackson had made. Inca nodded sagely. “I get it. Look, Ama, I don’t know how much Enda has told you about my past, but I had some pretty serious …enemies, shall we say. There was a lot of violence and I nearly didn’t make it. So, I’m saying …I’ve dealt with the kind of things I think Jackson is threatening.” “And you made it out.” Inca nodded, her lovely face serious. “I did. And I want to help –you—we both want to help you and Enda. I don’t know how, yet, but we will. Jackson has a lot of power, and now with even a third share of his father’s fortune, he’ll think he’s untouchable.” Ama sighed. “You’re right. Did you know about Penelope?” Inca nodded. “Yes. Look, Ama, I’ve had some experience with obsession. It’s unpredictable. I think our first step would be to secure both your

and your family’s safety.” “I agree. My family comes first, though. If Jackson’s going to take anything out on anybody, I’d rather it was me.” Inca gave her a strange smile. “You and I are more alike than you think. I would rather die than let anything happen to Raff.” Ama smiled. “He worships you, and I expect he’d say the same.” Inca laughed. “He would. Hopefully, that part of our lives is over and done with.” Ama squeezed her hand. “And now you’re on a mission to save mine.” “You betcha.”

AFTER HER TALK WITH I NCA, Ama felt lighter and more positive. She rejoined the wake. People were starting to leave, and she saw Enda and Olivier talking to some of the stragglers. She moved towards them, but a hand shot out of a group of people, and Jackson hauled her to his side. The smell of alcohol coming off of him was overpowering.

“Isn’t she beautiful, my wife?” He slurred and kissed her on the cheek. Ama tried to not to cringe. Macaulay’s friends looked uncomfortable, but Jackson hooked his arm around Ama’s neck. “I’m a very lucky man, wouldn’t you say?” Ama tried to deflect attention by smiling politely at the elderly couple. “How are you both? You look well.” Jackson snorted. “Come on, what do you say? Arthur? Magda? Isn’t Ama the most beautiful woman you ever saw? Her sister’s pretty too, if you know what I mean.” God. Ama pushed him away from her. “That’s enough, Jackson.” She turned, red-faced, to the couple. “I’m so sorry. He’s taken Mac’s death really hard.” The elderly couple smiled sympathetically at her and made their escape. Soon only the family, Inca, Raff, and one other couple were left. Jackson lurched at Ama. “Don’t ever contradict me again in public, bitch. That’s not your job.” “That’s enough, Jackson.” Enda strode over and put himself between Jackson and Ama. “Go to bed and sleep it off.” Jackson sneered. “Oh, look, it’s the bastard. Are

you still here? Daddy dearest has gone now, so you can just go fuck yourself, you Italian asshole.” Enda kept his temper. “Go to bed, Jackson.” Jackson looked at Ama again and grinned nastily. “Okay. If Ama comes with me. She can suck my cock while I decide whether or not to fuck her sister too.” Ama gasped in horror, and Enda, incensed, launched himself at Jackson, landing punch after punch. Jackson staggered back against the window, smashing it, but Enda yanked him to the floor. It took both Raffaelo and Olivier to haul Enda off the bloodied Jackson. A shocked Inca had locked her arms around a trembling and sobbing Ama and was trying to calm her down. Jackson scrambled to his feet, wiping his mouth, and then stopped, looking between Enda and Ama. “Jesus Christ …you’re fucking her. You’re fucking my wife. Bastard!” He threw himself at Enda, but Olivier stepped between them and took the full force of Jackson’s rage. They both staggered back, and it took Raffaelo to steady the pair. Olivier got his arms around his younger brother. “Stop. Stop.” “You filthy Italian cocksucker,” Jackson screamed

at Enda, who glowered at him, “I’ll fucking kill you, I’ll kill both of you.” He struggled against his brother’s hold, turning his white-hot anger on Ama. “Bitch whore. I knew the precious princess act was fake. How long have you been opening your legs for him?” Suddenly, Ama lost her temper. She extricated herself from Inca’s arms and went to Jackson. “Do you want to know how long, Jackson? Do you really want to know? Our wedding night, Jackson. And do you know what else? I don’t regret one moment of it because I’m in love with Enda. That’s right, I love him. He’s my world now, and you’re just a bug on a windshield to me. Do you really want to me to tell them all what you do to me? How you raped me, beat me, and threatened to have my sister raped too? My father’s business ruined? Fuck you, Jackson Gallo, you’re not worth one billionth of Enda, or Olivier, or anyone.” There were tears pouring down her face now. “I’m leaving you and seeking an annulment. Screw you. Screw my father for doing this to Selima and me.” Jackson smiled nastily. “I’ll never agree to a divorce, Amalia. Never. You belong to me.” Ama slapped his face, hard. “I don’t belong to anyone, asshole. Remember that. I choose to be with Enda because I love him.”

“I will ruin both of you. Both of you! Get out of my house, all of you. You,” Jackson snapped at Raffaelo now. “Take your whore and get out.” Inca gave him the finger and Raffaelo smirked. “Pathetic child. Ama, how long will it take you to pack your stuff?” “Ten minutes, tops.” Raffaelo nodded at Enda, who was still amped up, ready to kill Jackson if needed. “Go with her, Enda. We’ll make sure the toddler here is occupied.” Olivier nodded at Enda, his arms still locked around Jackson, who was just grinning openly now. As Ama walked past him, he spat at her, his saliva spattering across her face. Ama merely kept walking, wiping her face, and tugging Enda with her. Jackson stopped struggling and instead decided to stare at Inca, who regarded him coolly. His eyes ran up and down her body. Inca glanced at Raffaelo and grinned at him. He rolled his eyes. “Is she a good fuck, Raffaelo? She looks like she’s a good fuck …nice tight little cu …” Inca calmly stepped up to Jackson and smashed her knee into his balls. “Quiet, boy,” she said in a cold voice. “You’re on very, very thin ice.”

“Seconded,” Raffaelo said and took Inca’s hand. Olivier tried to hide a grin. Jackson groaned, bent double with pain. “Fuckers. You have no idea what I could do to you all. None of you will get away with this.” Olivier gave an exasperated sigh. “Jackson, haven’t you learned yet? You have no power here. None. Dad’s gone. Ama’s gone. Stop with the empty threats. Grow up.” Ama and Enda came back in, Enda pulling her suitcase. Jackson smiled at Ama. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye, baby?” Ama didn’t even look at him. “Thank you, Olly. Raff. Thank you, Inca.” And, hand-in-hand with Enda, she walked out the Gallo house forever. Outside, he stopped her and took her in his arms. “You love me?” “I know it’s crazy fast, but, yes, Enda Gallo, I love you.” Enda grinned and kissed her. “Ti amo, Amalia Rai. Ti amo.”

T HREE

MONTHS LATER

…

Sorrento, Italy …

E NDA TOOK her nipple into his mouth and Ama sighed, running her hands over his head and shoulders as he sucked and teased the tiny bud. When they were so sensitive she could scream, he moved up to kiss her and slid his huge engorged cock into her, Ama’s legs wrapping themselves around his waist. They had been living in Italy together for three months now, and it had been the happiest time in Ama’s life. The villa that Raffaelo had found for them was airy and spacious, and rustic enough that Ama felt that she was really in a different world. It had wooden shutters at the windows and delicate, white voile drapes that billowed out into the rooms, giving them a dream-like quality. When they had left San Francisco, Ama had called the dean of the conservatory, explained the situation, and asked for a sabbatical. Given the circumstances, the dean had agreed, but still, Ama felt bad about leaving them in the lurch. Enda had arranged for Selima to have a private security team, and although her sister chafed against the invasion of privacy, she had been horrified to find out what

Ama had been through. Ama had tried, without success, to have her move to Italy with them, but Selima, finally free to do what she liked, had refused. “I’m sorry, Ama, but I have a life here now. I’ll take the bodyguard, but otherwise, it’s business as usual. Go to Italy with your gorgeous man and be happy.”

AND AMA WAS HAPPY. Her father hadn’t been. He screamed at her about disloyalty and dishonor until she’d had enough. “Dad …you pimped both of your daughters out to men who beat and raped them. Who has the dishonor?” Her uncle, Omar, had stepped in and defended her. “Gajendra, this has gone far enough. You do not have the right.” Gajendra, his pride hurt and his business shaky, swore never to talk to his daughters again. Hurt but defiant, Amalia told him it was his loss. “I guess we’re both orphans now, baby,” she told Enda, trying to put a brave face on it, but when she burst into tears, he held her tightly.

“You are my family, Amalia Rai. You, Olly, Selima, Raff, and Inca. I think myself a very lucky man.”

AMA GAZED up at him now as they made love on this sultry Italian night, moving together, Enda’s cock harder and deeper into her with every thrust. She felt drunk with love all the time now, and so sensual in her own femininity that she had become more adventurous in the bedroom. Enda had her hands pinned above her head, and she moaned as his pace quickened, the friction of his cock in her cunt sending shivers through her. “I love you so much, Enda,” she whispered, then gave a cry as her orgasm ripped through her. Her back arched, her belly pressing against his as she felt his cock shooting thick, creamy cum deep inside her. Enda, panting for air, kissed her, not wanting to disconnect. She squeezed her thighs around his waist. “Stay inside,” she urged, and he grinned. “If only I could forever.” Ama giggled. “Man, that would make grocery shopping awkward.” “And business meetings.” “And recitals. Here, tonight, a recital by pianist

Amalia Rai, who, you will notice, will perform while being comprehensively fucked by an incredibly handsome man. Front row tickets extra.” Enda laughed out loud. “Those tickets would sell out for all the wrong reasons.” He nuzzled her neck with his lips. “Although, the thought of people watching you cum and seeing that beautiful rose flush in your cheeks …that’s kind of hot.” “Kinky.” “Guilty. What about you? Have you any kinks I should know about?” He finally pulled out of her and lay on his side, his hand stroking her belly. Ama smiled up at him. “You know, it’s hard to tell, because when I’m with you, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t try. But I don’t think I have enough experience to start thinking that way yet. If you want to suggest some things, I’m willing to consider them.” “Hmm.” Enda stroked her cheek with his finger. “Not sure. I’m sure we can come up with something together—no pun intended.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him. Ama snuggled into his arms and breathed in the night air wafting in through the open windows. “This place is heaven.”

Enda smiled. “I’m glad you like it. Listen, I was thinking …not wanting to stand in your way or anything, but have you thought any more about going back to San Francisco?” Ama felt a wave of nausea. Being so close to Jackson again …but then, there was her work to consider. “I keep going over it in my mind. I don’t want to be driven out of the job I adore because of Jackson and his threats, and I owe the conservatory at least a proper goodbye if I leave. My contract stipulates three months’ notice.” “Sounds like you’ve been considering leaving.” Ama nodded, her eyes serious as she looked up at him. “Truthfully, Enda, I have. I would be happy never to go back to the States. This place feels like home to me. You feel like home. I mean …” She went red and sat up, suddenly shy. “I’m not expecting you to …I don’t want to make you feel like you’re stuck with me, is all.” Enda chuckled. “Piccolo, I’m in this for the long haul. For good. You have no need to worry about that.” He ran his hand down her back. “As soon as the divorce is finalized, I would like to …well, I don’t want to make any demands of you, but I would be honored if you would think about …a commitment of some kind. Engagement, marriage, whatever we both want. Even just a commitment

ring, if you feel like you don’t want to be legally tied to someone else. Whatever works for us. I love you, Amalia, and this is it for me. You are my person.” Ama tried not to let the tears in her eyes fall. “You always know how to make me feel like the most loved person in the world. Thank you, baby.” She pressed her lips to hers, then pushed him back onto the bed, climbing on top of him. Enda cupped her breasts in his hands, then traced the indented line down her stomach to her navel. She shivered with pleasure as he circled it with his fingertip, her own hands reaching for his still half-erect cock and stroking it until he groaned and she lowered herself onto it, sighing as it filled her cunt. “God, Enda, I will never get tired of this …never …”

THE NEXT DAY, Amalia met Inca for lunch in the town. They found a little trattoria and ordered a light seafood linguini and salad for lunch. Since being in Italy, she and Inca had grown incredibly close, and now Ama couldn’t remember when they hadn’t been friends. Inca was sweet, funny, very intelligent, and was so full of empathy for others that Ama marveled at her capacity for love.

They also had the same sense of humor—bordering on raunchy—and they often talked about their men in their lives. Inca was obviously still head-overheels for Raffaelo even after all this time. “He was a tough cookie to fathom when I met him,” she admitted now as they ate, “But just his presence used to send my body reeling with desire. Honestly, he’s my walking, talking aphrodisiac.” Ama grinned. “I know how you feel …except my lightning bolt moment happened when I was walking down the aisle to marry Enda’s brother. Talk about awkward.” Inca’s cheek flushed scarlet then, and she tried to hide a smile. Ama squinted at her. “What’s this …gossip? What are you hiding, Sardee-Winter?” Inca grinned. “Oh, you might as well know. Tommaso was my boyfriend first, before Raff. And then it was Raff. And there was a little …overlap.” “You cheated on Tommaso.” Inca shook her head. “No.” “He knew?” “Yes.”

“And he didn’t mind?” “No.” Inca looked at her steadily. “So, you were sleeping with both of them …” Suddenly Ama got it and gave a shocked giggle. “Both of them? At the same time?” Inca grinned. “Guilty. Are you shocked?” Ama processed this new information. “No,” she said finally, “Not shocked. Definitely not judging you, either, just F.Y.I. Kind of …envious? I’d love to be that uninhibited.” Inca looked relieved. “Eventually, it had to come to a choice though …and Tommaso knew that, although I did love him, it was Raffaelo who had my heart. And then I got stabbed, which kinda put a little of the wrong kind of kink in the relationship for a while,” she quipped, grinning, and Ama was amazed at her ability to joke about it. “The thing with Enda and me …I was a virgin before him.” “You were?” Ama nodded. “And although the sex is mind blowing, I’m a little scared to …suggest anything more adventurous yet.” Inca nodded sympathetically. “Before the Winter

twins, believe me, I wasn’t nearly as open, shall we say. I think it’s just the matter of being with that one person who you can entirely trust in.” Ama smiled at her friend gratefully. “Thank you for sharing your experience with me, Inks. It does help …and, girl, you were wild.” Inca laughed. “I’m still wild, just with Raff now, as it was meant to be. I also have a great relationship with Tommaso now. I think because he has changed so much and grown more content in himself. He was unsteady emotionally when I met him. Our time together …I think it both messed with him and helped him, too, as strange as that may seem. Anyway, now he’s with Bo and their quadrillion kids. They’re coming over soon …I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

AMA WAS STILL THINKING about what Inca had said as she drove back to the villa. She felt a pang. She missed her own friends—Lena, Christina, and her sister. She would try to invite them all to Italy, although they had to be careful. Enda had made sure their tracks were covered, so Jackson couldn’t find them. Yes, he probably knew they were in Italy, but where, he wouldn’t be sure. In the three months since she’d left him, they had

only communicated once, through their lawyers. Jackson wasn’t going to give her a divorce or an annulment. She would have to wait for the two years before she could divorce him. She had even tried to say that he could claim she cheated— because, technically, she did—but he just wouldn’t even consider it. She didn’t want his money or anything from him, but her freedom. That they hadn’t heard from him since was a relief to her, but she knew it made Enda uneasy. “He’s planning something,” he would fret, but she had told him. “This is what he wants. He wants us to be nervous, to be constantly looking over our shoulders. No. I refuse to live like that. What will be, will be.”

SHE WALKED into the villa now. It was silent, but cool—a relief from the hot sun outside. Enda was still at work, still planning on building music schools with Raffaelo, but currently catching up on the work he’d let slide when he was in the States. Ama dumped her bag, changed into shorts and a halter-neck top, and checked the time. Four p.m. She hadn’t wanted any staff when they moved here, and Enda had agreed. So, now only a light

security team were on the premises, but they worked the perimeter of the grounds and the house was a private sanctuary for Ama and Enda. She went to the cool, open-plan living area and sat down at the piano. She thought of the beautiful Bösendorfer that Jackson had bought her, trying to curry favor, and realized she preferred this much older, well-loved instrument here. Enda had told her his mother used to play on it and so it felt more like a friend than an object. Ama ran her hands over the keys and played a few bars of various compositions; Mozart, Bach, Copland. She closed her eyes and let her fingers move of their own accord with a new composition, light but sensual … a love song. She hadn’t written anything for months now, it seemed, but as her fingers moved across the keys, she could feel the imperative within her. She switched to modern music—Tori Amos, Sarah McLachlan, Norah Jones—singing along softly with the music. “I had no idea your singing voice was so beautiful.” Ama turned and smiled at Enda. “Ha. Thank you. It isn’t, but thank you anyway.” She started to stand, but he waved her down and joined. “Stay, and play some more for me.” So, she did. With Enda’s arms locked around her

waist, she played through some of her own compositions for him. Neither of them noticed it had gotten dark by the time she had finished. Enda pressed his mouth to hers. “That was glorious. Grazie, cara mia.” Ama leaned into his embrace. “You, music, and this beautiful place. I’m in heaven.” She felt his arms tighten around her. “I’m glad you feel that way, piccolo.” Ama stayed in his embrace for a moment, then her stomach growled and they both laughed. “I hadn’t realized it was so late. I was going to make us some supper.” “Let’s cook together.”

THEY WENT into the kitchen that Ama had grown to love. Exposed brickwork and old-fashioned fixtures belied the state-of-art kitchen equipment. She opened the vast fridge. “It’s too hot for curry,” she said, grinning at his disappointment. Since meeting her, Enda had become addicted to spicy meals. “Well, I suppose I could do a light vegetable one, and we could have it with salad and roti?” Enda grinned. “Sounds good to me …but you may

be right about the heat. Maybe something lighter for tonight?” Ama laughed. “Look at us all domesticated.” She turned back to the fridge and made a decision. “Stir-fry?” Enda nodded. “Sounds good.”

THEY ATE out on the terrace, over-looking the Bay of Naples, Enda’s hand on her thigh. Ama was thinking about what Inca had said earlier. “Isn’t it weird that, when you meet the right person, anything goes?” she said now to Enda. “I know what you mean. I keep thinking back to that day. Your wedding day. You might think I’m the kind of guy who does that all the time, but no. It was just a confluence of events and feelings, and I thought what the hell? You looked so sad, Piccolo. It got me here.” He touched his chest. “I felt as if I couldn’t breathe until I kissed you.” Ama was moved. “Ditto.” She grinned mischievously. “I was talking to Inca today …she was pretty wild when she was younger. Not that she’s old now, but you know what I mean.” Enda grinned widely. “I do.”

Ama studied him. “You know? About?” “The three of them? Yup. It was quite the scandal here back then. Well, not really scandal … not like it would have been back in the States.” She stroked his hair. “I think I would be too jealous to share you.” Enda kissed her. “Yeah, that scene isn’t for me.” “What is? You know, I would try anything with you. Anything.” Enda wiped his mouth on his napkin and studied her, a grin on his handsome face. “Okay … challenge extended. Let me fuck you somewhere we could get caught.” Ama chuckled, a thrill going through her. “For example?” “We have that benefit in town later this week. We could sneak behind a pillar and go for it.” Ama considered, then stuck out her hand. “Challenge accepted.” Enda laughed. “There’s a part of me that hopes we do get caught.” “You know what,” Ama said, smiling widely. “Me too.”

*** Jackson Gallo picked up the phone. “Tell me you’ve found my wife.” His detective, Larry, chuckled. “And then some. They’re in Sorrento, as you thought. They have a villa—pretty comprehensively guarded, but both of them go out quite freely. Your wife had lunch with another woman today. Another Indian woman? Her sister?” “No, her sister is still here in the US. That must be Inca, Raffaelo Winter’s wife. They were unprotected?” “As far as I could see. Want me to kill her?” “No,” Jackson said sharply, “If anyone’s going to kill my wife, it’s me this time. The Winter woman …maybe. Another Penelope situation for her, I think. But not yet. I want to have all the pieces in place before I hit them with it all. What I have planned for them …they won’t have dreamed up in a million years. I don’t just want to kill my wife. I want to destroy her, my bastard brother, and anyone else who loves them before I finally kill Ama. I can wait for the right moment.” He gave Larry some final instructions just to keep

watching and reporting. Putting down the phone, he smiled to himself. What he had planned wasn’t just murder. It was a slaughter.

AMA LAY in Enda’s arms as he slept. It was past midnight, but she couldn’t get to sleep at all. She wondered what was bothering her and couldn’t get a grip on it. Something was changing inside of her, and she couldn’t figure out whether it was physical or emotional or …what the hell is it? she thought in frustration, but the answer would not come. She gazed at Enda’s sleeping face. In rest, he looked so much younger, less stressed, more boyish. I love you, so much, she thought as she looked at him. I can’t imagine my life without you. The thought of being without him made her feel sick, and she gently extracted herself from his grip and went into the bathroom. The nausea passed, and she brushed her teeth again, looking in the mirror. Something was different with her. Her face looked fuller, her eyes sparkled, and her hair hung long and lustrous down her back. Her breasts seemed larger and her belly softly curved. Was it just that, finally, she saw herself as a sexual being? More confident? Maybe, Ama thought now.

“Hey, you okay?” Enda had woken and was standing naked in the doorway, eyes sleepy, his dark curls wild about his head. He looked adorable. Ama grinned and went to him, pressing her nakedness against him and feeling his cock respond. She brushed her lips against his. “Fuck me, Enda …fuck me hard …” A thrill of danger and arousal flooded her as he pushed her roughly against the wall, his mouth harsh against hers. He spread her legs with his foot. “Open them wide for me, woman.” She did, grinning, and his cock, huge and swollen, thrust hard into her. His fingers bit into her skin as his teeth did the same to her shoulder. She gasped at the pain, but clawed his back with her fingernails, urging him deeper into her. He tumbled her to the floor and pressed her knees to her chest, driving himself into her as hard as he could, almost violent in his actions. Ama screamed her pleasure to him, calling out his name over and over, urging him to be rougher. He slammed her hands to the cool tile with his, growling his need for her, his cock plowing deeper and faster with every stroke until she came explosively, her whole body shaking violently. Enda pulled out and came on her skin, creamy cum spattering over her belly and breasts. His thumb delved deep into her navel, finger

fucking her as he bit down on her nipples, then crushed his lips against hers until she tasted blood. It was feral, animal, and they tore at each other as they fucked. Enda thrust into her perfect ass, hooking her legs over his shoulder. “God, you’re so goddamn beautiful, Ama, I could spend my life just fucking you over and over and over again …” Ama came quickly, quivering and shuddering. “Enda …please …nail me to the floor. Fuck me everywhere …” And they did. They spent all night fucking each other in every room in the villa, even the tiny utility room. Ama sat on the washer as Enda thrust into her again and again. By the time dawn came, they were sated and exhausted. This time, Ama had no trouble falling asleep.

THE SAME NIGHT, Raffaelo Winter was also having trouble sleeping. For some reason, although he and Inca had made love as usual—rapturous love— when she had fallen asleep, something was nagging at him too. He got out of bed and went to get some water, staring out of the window over the Bay. Lights of

the boats in the Bay bobbed around, and the night was serene. But he felt something. Something was coming. Lurking in the shadows, waiting. Watching. He emptied the glass and went back to the bedroom. For a long moment, he stood at the door, watching his wife sleep. Her long, dark hair clouded around her on the pillow, her thick, dark lashes resting on her downy cheeks. Her beauty had always made him weak. The last ten years with her had made him happy beyond what he thought was possible. And yet … He was always that someone would try and take her away from him. Inca had survived so many attempts on her life—both offenders were thankfully dead now—but he was always tensed for the next attack. Her beauty attracted admirers and obsessives. His mind flipped to his friends now. Enda and Ama had fitted seamlessly into their lives here, but the woman his friend had fallen in love with had a little too much in common with Inca for Raffaelo’s liking. Jackson Gallo was very much alive and well and was undoubtedly planning his revenge. And who knew who would be caught in the crossfire? Yes, Raffaelo thought grimly. Something is coming.

And I know, I just know …nothing good can come of it …

S AN F RANCISCO

SELIMA R AI PICKED her phone up and saw it was her sister calling. She glanced quickly at the sleeping man beside her and scooted gently out of bed. She went into the living room, slipping into Chase’s t-shirt before she answered the call. “Hey, sis.” “Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I?” “Not at all.” “Why are you whispering?” Ama sounded amused and Selima chuckled. “Hot guy asleep in next room.” “Good work.” Ama laughed. “Sorry to call so early. I always forget the time difference.” “I don’t care. It’s lovely to hear your voice. How are you?” “Beyond good. How’s your program going?”

Selima was studying for her Master’s degree in criminology and was loving every day, even though it was hard work. “Good, darling, really. I like my tutors a lot; they’re more like friends at this point.” “Suck up.” Selima laughed. “You know it. God, Ama, I miss you.” “Oh, me too, boo. So much. When your semester is over, promise me you’ll come to Italy?” Selima smiled into the phone. “Try and stop me.” Ama seemed to hesitate then. “How is your protection working out?” Selima’s smile faded. “So far, so good. They’re very discreet, but still …I could do without them. I have Chase now.” “Chase, is it? Well, he’s probably not going to be locked and loaded, is he, so the protection stays. Sorry, sis.” Ama chuckled. “But tell me more about Chase.”

L ATER , when Chase got up and sleepily lurched into her bathroom to shower, Selima took stock of what her sister had said. Selima was overjoyed that Ama

had split from Jackson Gallo. The man was a creep who had kept hitting on her throughout his engagement to Ama. But the repercussions of how they had split up had crashed through Selima’s life here in Los Angeles. Jackson Gallo’s threats to her own safety had shocked Selima, but his obvious rage and obsession with her sister scared her more. She had no doubt at all that Jackson would harm Amalia if he could, and although Selima was glad Ama was with Enda, she didn’t know Enda at all well and didn’t know if she could trust him to protect her sister. It made her sick to the stomach to think of Ama being hurt. Chase came into the kitchen, stealing a piece of toast from her plate. She had met him only recently. He was a new transfer in from a college in Minnesota, and he had a warm, guileless charm that she loved. He’d grinned at her across a lecture hall, and although she tried to play it cool, her stomach filled with butterflies. Turned out, he was a friend of one of her friends and on a group night out, they had gotten to talking. Since then, he’d stayed every night. He bent to kiss her now, tasting of toast and toothpaste. She wrinkled her nose. “Yuck.” Chase laughed a deep rumble through his broad chest. He was absurdly tall—nearly six-seven—

with blonde hair sticking up in every direction, big blue eyes, and an easy smile. “That’s what a man likes to hear when he kisses his woman.” Selima grinned. “Who said I’m your woman?” “Me. And I don’t mean that in a caveman, ugg ugg, beat you over the head and drag you to my cave way. I mean, you’re my favorite woman, is all.” “That’s nice. Thank you. And so was the kiss.” “Oh, I know.” He was cocky, self-assured, and safe in his masculinity. Selima loved that about him. Here was a man not threatened by a strong woman. “Now,” he said, coming over to her and lifting her onto the table. “I need to have a good breakfast.” He pulled her silky robe open and looked around. “Ah ha.” He grabbed the little jug of maple syrup and Selima giggled as he poured it over her breasts, then bent to lick it off. “Lay back for me, darlin’.” She did, and he smiled down at her, drizzling the syrup onto her belly so it filled her navel, then down into her sex. He dropped to his knees and ran his tongue from her navel down to her cunt, pressing her legs apart so he could taste her properly. His tongue lashed around her clit and Selima gave a little moan of pleasure. “Just relax there, baby. Let Chase take care of things.”

His mouth on her, sent her senses reeling, and when he stood and freed his cock from his jeans, she almost wept at the feel of it plunging into her red, swollen cunt. “God, yes, Chase, harder …” Grinning, he fucked her expertly, leaving her gasping, panting for air, and arching her back from the table as she came. Chase groaned, pumping cum deep inside her, then gathered her into his arms to kiss her. “God, baby, where have you been all my life?” Selima kissed him back. “Just tell me we can do that every day.” Chase grinned. “Sure thing …although we’re gonna go through a lot of maple syrup.”

SHE WAS STILL GLOWING as she made her way to class later that day, and didn’t see the man watching her.

E NDA AND R AFFAELO arrived at the restaurant just before their client and were sitting, chatting, when he arrived. Roger Fallwell was an American property broker who dealt with all the major property scions around the world, but Enda and

Raff were surprised when he called them to talk about their project. He had wanted to meet with them on this specific day, at one p.m. and was very adamant about it, which make them scratch their heads. “Maybe he’s just here for one day? How did he even find out about it?” Enda wondered now, and Raff shook his head. “No idea.” Enda shrugged. “Ah, well.” Raff grinned. “You are so chilled out these days, my brother.” Enda chuckled. “Ama,” was all he said, and Raff smiled. “Gotcha.” Enda grinned to himself. Last night had been the benefit they had talked about, and he had indeed fucked Ama in a dark alcove, where anyone could have walked past and caught them. No one did, though, but it had been a thrilling ride anyway.

AT HOME, Ama was practicing a piece she had written over and over when her phone rang. “Ama?”

It was Christina, her best friend. Ama was delighted, but Christina’s voice was trembling. “Chrissy, what is it?” “I’m not sure …someone broke into my home this morning. I was at the store buying milk. They left a message.” Ama’s heart began to beat faster. “Chrissy, are you okay? Are you hurt?” “No …no, I’m not hurt. I don’t think this is about me. Ama, the message was written in blood on my wall. It said …‘Tell her everyone, until she’s the only one left.' Sweetheart, I think …” “…it’s Jackson. Chrissy, I want you to pack a bag and get out of there now. Did you call the police?” “I did; there’s an officer here. I told them what I told you and they agree – I need to leave for the time being. Darling …there’s something else. There was a fire at the conservatory. No one was hurt, but there was a lot of damage.” Ama’s legs gave out, and she slumped to the floor, panting for air. Her chest felt as if it were in a vise. “Chrissy …my sister …” “I already thought about that. There are police on the way to her apartment right now.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Chrissy, get out of there now.” “I will, I promise. Keep in touch, Ama, please. Be safe.” “You too. I love you.”

E NDA CHECKED his phone and saw three missed calls. Damnit. He’d forgotten to switch it off silent mode. He saw the calls were from Ama and he frowned. Just then, though, their guest arrived. Roger Fallwell looked sweaty and pale as they shook hands, and Enda realized he was trembling. Was he going to have a heart attack? “Are you okay, Mr. Fallwell?” Fallwell closed his eyes, muttering something to himself. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this …” Enda and Raffaelo exchanged worried glances. Raff cleared his throat and signaled to the waiter. “Could we have some ice water, please? Our guest is unwell.” Fallwell shook his head. “No, it’s okay, I’m not … god, oh god …” As they looked on in amazement, Roger Fallwell

started to sob.

I NCA WAS at her favorite tea house in the city, the one she had opened with Raff soon after they became engaged. With an upstairs tea room overlooking the Bay, it was always busy, and Inca liked to help out as much as she could. It made her feel less like the princess in the ivory tower. The staff and customers alike adored her, and she loved spending time there. It had also improved her Italian exponentially, and she could chatter away to people easily now. She often told Raff that she felt more Italian than American now and she knew he was pleased. Today, the upper tea room was packed, but downstairs was quiet and cool. Inca took the opportunity to go down and clean. She didn’t see the two men enter behind her until one of them cleared their throat. They were dressed casually and wore friendly smiles, and she grinned back. “Hey, fellas, come on in. We have plenty of room. Upstairs or down. I’m Inca, so if you need anything, just ask.” The two men looked at each other and for a second Inca wondered if they had understood her. Then the large man grabbed her so quickly she

couldn’t react, clamping a huge hand over her mouth and easily holding her arms with the other massive arm. Without hesitation, the other man stepped forward. Terrified, Inca only saw a brief flash of steel before he drove the knife into her belly again and again. The pain was unimaginable.

E NDA TRIED to calm their guest down. “Sir, please …what is it?” Fallwell gasped and gulped and finally calmed himself. “He has my wife and my four-year-old daughter. He told me he’ll kill them unless I brought you here today, at this time. Both of you.” Both Enda and Raff knew instantly. Jackson. Raff leaned forward. “What does he want, Roger? Why bring us here today?” Roger looked at Raff with sorrow-filled eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Winter …he wanted her unprotected.” Raff’s color drained from his face. “No …no …not Inca …” Roger started to sob again, nodding. “And, Mr. Gallo, he told me to tell you …this is it. This is

where they all die, including Amalia.”

STELLA, the tea house’s barista heard the scream from downstairs and hurried down. At first, she just saw the shocked tourist standing at the doorway, her hands at her mouth, staring down at the ground. As Stella rounded the corner, her heart almost failed. Inca was splayed on the floor, eyes closed, with blood spreading everywhere across her dress. Dark purple knife wounds were on her stomach and belly. Her breathing was ragged and hitching, and as Stella dropped to her knees, Inca opened her eyes. In them, she saw confusion, bewilderment, and agony. On the floor beside her was a lethallooking knife, covered in blood. The tourist was crying, but was on her phone, obviously calling the emergency services. “Oh, mio Dio, mio Dio.” Panicked, Stella pressed her finger gently to Inca’s throat. There was a weak pulse, but it was slowing. Inca made a strange noise, like she was fighting for breath, and then her eyes closed and her head slumped to the side. Stella knew instantly. Inca was dying.

Then Stella too started to scream for help.

R AFF WAS out of the restaurant in a second, his face yellow with terror, his phone to his ear. Enda followed him, trying to call Ama, but the phone was engaged. As he reached Raff, the other man was talking to someone on the phone. He looked at Enda, and there was untold grief in his green eyes. “Oh god, no, please …yes, yes. No, I’m coming now …god, please, Stella …tell me she’s still breathing …thank god …I’m on my way.” He turned to Enda, who was still trying to call Ama. “Inca was stabbed. It’s bad, Enda. It’s so bad … god … I have to go. Get to Ama, now. This is Jackson. I know it.”

E NDA DROVE like a madman back to the villa, still unable to reach Ama on the phone. As the car screeched to a halt outside, he could see his security team in disarray, and it was only when Ama flew out of the house and into his arms, obviously healthy and apparently safe, that he could breathe again. But Ama was hysterical, and he understand what she was saying at first.

couldn’t

“Baby, calm down. Tell me. Calm down …” “He has her, Enda …he has my sister …”

Oh god …Selima …Enda was staggered at the scope of Jackson’s revenge plan. First Inca, now Selima. “What does he want?” Ama looked like she was about to pass out. “Me. He told me he will kill her unless I go to him.” “No …no …not going to happen.” “Enda, I don’t have a choice. Do you honestly think he won’t go through with it if I don’t?” Enda closed his eyes and thought about Inca. No … Jackson would happily kill Selima. Just like he would, without a doubt, murder Ama the moment she went to him.

THERE

WERE

no happy endings here …

AMA SAT on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, her head in her hands. Thankfully, the nausea that had attacked her so suddenly in the night had passed. Enda tilted her head up gently and pressed a cold flannel to her burning forehead. Her eyes were puffy from lack of sleep and crying, but Enda was concerned about the utter despair in them.

Jackson had taken Selima and had ordered a hit on Inca, who was fighting for her life in a local hospital after two of Jackson’s men had brutally stabbed her and left her for dead. Raff’s voice on the phone had sounded like it coming from the grave. “They’re still operating … they said she’d been stabbed nine times …oh god …I thought that part of our lives was over. I don’t know if she’ll make it, Enda. I really don’t.” He sounded broken. She’s going to die … Enda pushed the thought away. Come on, Inks …you can survive this …you must. When he’d told Ama about Inca, just after she’d had the news that Selima was abducted, she’d collapsed, screaming and sobbing great, wrenching sobs. Enda knew she blamed herself, but now he was more concerned by her silence than her screams. The police had told them to sit tight while they contacted Olivier, and an hour later, Olivier had called them. “He’s obviously been planning this for months,” Olivier said, sounding as desolate as they did. “He emptied his accounts and sold most of the stuff from the house. When they went there tonight, it

was on fire. It was gutted …the house is gone, man. All dad’s stuff. Enda, he’s got unlimited funds. He can hide anywhere in the world and he won’t stop until Ama’s in his grip.” “Not going to happen,” Enda said grimly. “He’ll kill her the minute she goes to him.” “Agreed. Look, my suggestion is to stay there. It’s too dangerous here, even though I don’t think Jackson is even in the States anymore. He’s gone underground. Someone, somewhere surely will have to see him sometime, right? I’ve already sent out a team to scour California.” Enda sighed. “Good. I’ll do the same here. Listen, Tommaso Winter said the same thing. We need to cover the globe. He spoke to Raffaelo—you can imagine what he said.” “How is Inca?” Olivier’s voice was soft; he loved Inca as much as the rest of them. “Not good, brother. Not good at all. God, poor Raff.” “What is this, now? The fourth or fifth attempt on her life? That’s way too much for any lifetime.” Enda tried not to let the tears in his eyes fall. He pinched them shut with his fingers. “Let’s hope we can still say it was only an attempt when this is all

over. Raff won’t survive if Inca dies.” There was a heavy silence on the other end of the phone. “Enda …when we find Jackson,” Olivier hesitated, then sighed. “You know what I’m going to say.” “Yes,” said Enda in a hard voice. “And to answer you …yes. I want that fucker dead. I know he’s your brother, but …” “He’s no brother of mine,” Olivier said. “Live or die …he’s dead to me now.” Enda heard the heartbreak in Olivier’s voice and felt the weight of responsibility. His older brother had always been the peacemaker—the steadying hand. Enda hated that he was alone in San Francisco, dealing with all this. “Come to Italy,” he urged. “Be with us.” Oliver gave a short, sad laugh. “Believe me, I’d like nothing better …but someone needs to be here. Besides, Selima’s boyfriend could still give us some information.” Chase, Selima’s boyfriend of a few weeks, had been shot and critically wounded when Selima was abducted. He had been trying to defend his girlfriend and took a bullet to the chest. “Fuck,” said Enda, “What a mess.”

Olivier sighed. “Yeah …and right now, I just don’t see how it could get any worse.”

A WEEK later and nothing had changed. Ama stared out of the window at the heavy security around their villa and felt like a prisoner. Not just here in Italy—but of Jackson’s. He hadn’t contacted her again after that first call, when he’d sounded so triumphant. “I told you there would be no limit to what I could do if you defied me, Amalia …now say hello to your little sister.” Selima’s sobs—her cries of pain—as Jackson obviously inflicted harm on her, wherever he was holding her. Ama had screamed at Jackson, but he’d merely laughed and told her to wait for his next call. A week. Doing God knows what to Selima …fuck. She went to look for Enda, who was in his office with Tommaso Winter and their respective chiefs of security. She nodded at Tommaso. He looked desolate. Inca was in a coma, still hovering on the brink of life, and Ama knew Tommaso was trying to keep it together and support his brother as Inca fought to

recover. Tommaso smiled at her, his eyes tired and heavy. Ama touched Enda’s arm. “Baby, can I talk to you for a minute?” Enda nodded and followed her out of the room. She led him into their bedroom and closed the door. Enda opened his arms, and she went into them. He kissed her tenderly. “Are you okay, Piccolo?” She shook her head. “No. I just needed alone time with you. I can’t bear all this worry and sadness. I think I’m going mad.” Enda sighed and hugged her tightly to him. “I know.” Ama tilted her head up to kiss him again. “Let’s just make the world go away for a few minutes.” “You sure?” She nodded and his fingers pulled at the belt of her wrap dress. Pushing back the fabric and letting the dress fall to the floor, he kept his hands gentle on her skin as he lay her down on the bed. He pulled her panties down and found her wet for him already. “Don’t wait,” she whispered. Enda stripped quickly and lay on top of her. “No matter what …I love you,” he said softly, and she nodded, tears in her eyes, as his cock pushed into

her. They made love slowly, rocking gently as his thrusts grew more intense. They gazed at each other, as if drinking each other in, and both their orgasms were mellow, shivering things. When she came, all her suppressed emotion flooded to the surface and Ama began to cry hot, silent tears. She cried herself out in Enda’s arms, and finally, thankfully, fell asleep.

R AFFAELO STROKED the hair away from his wife’s face. “Her color is a little better.” Bo Kennedy, his brother’s partner, couldn’t see any improvement. It made her sick to see Inca so still and pale. Her usually glowing honey skin was yellow and gray, tubes stuck in her arms, and the breathing apparatus filled her throat. Jesus …how the hell had this happened? Why? Some sick psycho’s way of getting revenge on his wife was to kill her friend? Bo sat down heavily in the chair opposite Raffaelo and took Inca’s cold hand. She couldn’t die … could she? Not after everything she’d gone through to get to the happy life she had with Raffaelo. “Whoever this Jackson Gallo wanker is, I’d like to

kill him. What a fucking coward. Send two men to kill a defenseless woman? For what? Spite. Fucker.” Raffaelo, his green eyes heavy and exhausted, nodded. “I know …that’s what gets me …the sheer spite of it. Inca had nothing to do with Ama’s decision to leave Jackson.” He smiled briefly. “Although, Inca did knee him in the balls.” Bo half-smiled. “Still …deciding to have her killed for that?” “Sadly, Jackson is that vengeful and that psychotic. He only went after the women. Idiot thinks they’re the weaker sex.” Bo was incensed. “Yeah? Then come at me, bro, I’ll show you different.” Inca gave a low moan and they both sat up. Raff leaned over his wife as Bo pressed the button for the nurse. “Inca? Cara mia? I’m here. Please, open your eyes. Wake up, baby. I love you, please …” He was rambling, and Bo was saddened by the desperation in his voice. The nurse came in and looked at them questioningly. Bo suddenly felt stupid. “She moaned …we, um, we thought maybe she was waking up.”

The nurse smiled at her sympathetically. “Let’s hope. Excuse me, sir. I just want to check Mrs. Winter.” Raff moved, looking discombobulated. “Of course, sorry.” She patted his arm warmly. “Let’s just hope,” she said again. She took a small flashlight from her pocket and checked Inca’s eyes, then checked the machines keeping her alive, and her blood pressure. “Okay, well, I’ll just get the doctor and we can make a determination.”

R AFFAELO AND B O waited impatiently for the doctor to complete his examination. Raff stared at Inca’s hand. He was sure her fingers had briefly squeezed his as he held them, but he was so dogtired and grief-stricken that he told himself he might have been hallucinating. The doctor stepped back and smiled at them both. “Mrs. Winter does appear to be coming out of her coma.” The relief hit Raff like a sledgehammer and he gave a low gasp of release. Bo went to him and held him up. The doctor patted his shoulder. “Now, listen, this is very good news—very good

news, but, Mr. Winter, your wife has a long way to go. A long way. Her injuries …remember, we had to remove her kidney and her liver was lacerated. There’s still a high risk of infection. The hysterectomy will have taken a toll too. So, long haul. But this is a great positive step forward.” He smiled kindly at Raff, who couldn’t stop the tears from flooding down his cheeks. “Now, the thing to remember is that it could take days or even weeks, for Inca to emerge fully from the coma. So, be patient. I’ll come back later and run some more tests.” Bo hugged Raff to her. “This is good news, bro. Good, good news.” Raff nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He smiled at her and extracted himself to go and sit by Inca. “I’ll go call Tommaso,” Bo said softly, “Tell them all the good news.” Raffaelo nodded, his entire focus on Inca now. When they were alone, he leaned over and kissed the side of her mouth, next to the breathing tube. “Amore mia,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please come back to me. I don’t know how to live in a world without you. Fight, Inca, my beautiful Inca. You’ve done this before. Fight. Fight to come back to me.”

He picked up her hand and brought it to his mouth. God, when she awoke …he would have to tell her that she had been targeted yet again by a psychopath and that there had been no good reason, other than malevolence, behind her stabbing. That they’d had to fight to save her life for hours in the operating theater. That the baby she hadn’t known they could have, and that she had been carrying for a month, had been murdered in her womb. Their child. Their only child. They’d told them years ago that she wouldn’t be able to carry a baby to full-term, even if she could conceive it, to begin with. And that now, they would never get the chance to try again. The killer’s knife had sliced through her womb and they had to remove it. Inca would never be pregnant again. Mio Dio …Raff closed his eyes and fought against the scream in his throat. Never again. He didn’t care if he had to keep her in a fortress. No one would ever touch her again—never hurt her again. And he, Raffaelo, would never fail her again.

AMA WOKE in the late evening, as she heard raised voices somewhere in the villa. She pulled a t-shirt and a pair of jeans on and went to find out what

was going on. She pushed her way into the kitchen and saw Enda arguing furiously with someone. When she shifted position, she saw him and gasped. Her father had come to Italy. He saw her and rounded on her, his face a mask of rage. “You. This is your fault. My daughter is abducted and I find out about it on the news? This is your doing, Amalia, and …” He never finished the sentence, as an incensed and raging Enda punched him out.

HER UNCLE, her beloved Omar, who had come with Gajendra to Italy, put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “Your father will calm down, Amalia. Give him time.” Exhausted, Ama leaned against him. “I don’t want him here, Omar, but I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. I just wish …god, Omar. She’s been gone a week. Who knows what horrors he’s putting her through.” She lowered her voice. “Omar …I don’t want Enda to know this, but if Jackson will swap me for her, I’ll do it. I’ll do it right now.” Her uncle looked pained. “Sweetheart, let’s not even consider that as an option yet. Or at all. We’ll get Selima back. I have spoken to Olivier Gallo,

and now to your Enda and his friend. Between us, we can cover the globe to find your sister. And we will.” Amalia rubbed her eyes. “Dads right about one thing—this is my fault. All of it. Selima, Christina …Inca. God.” She felt sick. Omar tightened his arm around her and spoke in a low, fierce voice. “This is not your fault. Your father is lashing out because he feels the guilt keenly. The guilt for using his daughters to save his business, when he could have come to me. His pride put you both in harm’s way. He knows that marrying you to Jackson Gallo was the catalyst. He fed Jackson’s obsession and sense of entitlement.” Ama heard his words, but could not shake the guilt anyway. “Omar, could you take dad back to the hotel? I need some time with Enda.” Omar kissed her cheek. “Of course, darling. I will be just a phone call away if you need me.”

E NDA LOOKED TIRED , but when she joined him in the kitchen, he kissed her and smiled at her. “Inca’s coming out of her coma,” he told her, and Ama felt her heart lift. “Really?”

“Tommaso just called. She’s still critical, but it’s a good step forward.” Ama slumped against him. “Some good news, at last.” She felt like crying, but this time for good reasons. Could this be the tide turning? “Have they found anything out about Selima’s whereabouts?” Enda hesitated, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, baby. Chase is still unconscious, and the California team has had no luck. Look, we have the house to ourselves tonight. Just for one-night …let’s try and relax and spend some time together. I know it will be difficult, but I’m worried that if we—and I mean you, Piccolo—keep this level of stress up, we’ll make bad decisions. Forget why we did this.” Ama was silent, considering his proposal. Could she relax, knowing what was happening to her sister? Even if it wasn’t happening—and she didn’t think there was any chance of that—she still had the visions of what Jackson could do to her sister. But she looked up into the eyes of the man she had sacrificed everything for and knew she would make the same decision over and over again. Enda was right. They needed to reconnect properly, remember that they were in this together, and that there were more people on their side than on

Jackson’s. She nodded up at him. “Yes, okay …for tonight … me and you.” “Good.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s start by getting some proper food into you. You haven’t eaten for days.” They cooked a meal together, a hot and spicy curry that they washed down with a cold beer each, then sat watching TV. Ama couldn’t help her mind drifting to her sister, and at ten p.m., Enda looked around at her, studied her expression, and sighed. “Miss Rai …I think I need to distract you more …” He stood up and pulled her to her feet. He nuzzled his nose to hers before pressing his lips against hers. “The house is empty except for us. We’re totally alone …listen how quiet the night is.” He led her to the window and pushed open the shutters. The stone window sill was wide enough for them both to sit on. “Look at that,” Enda said softly. The moon was full over the Bay of Naples, Vesuvius casting a long shadow. The cities of Naples and Sorrento lay beneath them. The lights of the fishing boats bobbed out at sea, the soft glow from the cities’ streets. “There is only one thing I consider more beautiful than this view,” Enda said in his low, growly accent, “And that is you, Piccolo. You are the love of my life and the reason

for my being. There is absolutely no way I would give you up for anything. I know what you think— that you hold Selima’s life in your hands. You don’t. But you hold mine, and I hold yours. There is no you and me. There is only us. And we, together, will fight this and we will win.” Ama had tears in her eyes and they spilled down her cheeks as he finished speaking. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t tell this wonderful man just how much she loved him. Instead, she kissed him, her mouth hungry against his. He pulled her onto his lap and began to peel her dress from her shoulders until he could dip his head and take her nipple into his mouth. Ama sighed and closed her eyes, not caring if any of the security guards patrolling their grounds could see them. This is what matters, she thought. Love. Enda picked her up and carried her to the couch, pushing up her skirt and snagging his fingers in her panties to pull them off. Ama pulled her dress over her head and then helped him strip, running her hands over his broad shoulders, wide, muscled chest, and flat stomach. He covered her body with his, seeking her lips. “Ama …” he murmured, in the way that always made her weak, and as she curled her legs around his hips, feeling his erection nudging at her, she opened up to take him in as deep as she could, wanting and needing that connection.

Enda moved in slow, measured strokes, kissing her, murmuring her name over and over, and sending thrills through her entire being. Ama gazed up into his green eyes and wondered how she had ever existed without this man. She could believe him, in moments like this, that everything would be okay— that everything would turn out right. He was so controlled that her orgasm built and built, and every time she thought she would reach her peak, Enda would hold back, until she was quivering mass of anticipation. When her orgasm hit, it made her mind whirl, her skin vibrate, and all she could see was him, smiling down at her, groaning as he too came, his seed shooting deep into her belly. “I love you. I love you,” she whispered, and he laughed softly. “And I’m not even halfway done tonight …”

THEY MADE love until dawn began to spread its fingers across the sky, then fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. When they woke, Ama felt stronger than she had in days. Then, in the evening, the news came that Inca was awake.

I NCA AWOKE SOMETIME in the afternoon, and of course, it was in the five minutes that Raff, who had been at her side constantly, went to take a coffee break. Alone, Inca blinked, trying to get the smeary glaze from her eyes, moving her limbs, feeling the stiffness of her body, and the numbness that she recognized as morphine coursing through her system. It was a heavy dose too, she knew of old—from the last time she’d been stabbed. How the hell had it happened again? Here, in her beloved Naples, where all she had found was love. Had it been part of a robbery? Somehow, she couldn’t see it. It was personal. She remembered the man who had stabbed her so viciously …he had looked her in the eye as he plunged the knife into her. The expression she would never forget … enjoyment. He meant to kill her. Inca was sure of it. She wasn’t a random victim. Could it have been Edgar Winter, her husband’s psychotic father who had tried to kill her twice before, just to make Raffaelo suffer? He was rotting away in prison now for his crimes, but he could have just as easily hired someone to do it. After all this time, though? It had been years that he had been incarcerated. Inca moved, and then moaned in pain. Agony screeched through her body, but instead of upsetting her, it just made her angry. Who the hell

were these people to decide whether she lives or died? Luna, Kevin, Knox, Edgar …two of them were dead; Kevin was, like Edgar, in jail. And now those two assholes in her beloved tea house … The anger made adrenaline shoot through her body, and she struggled to sit up, ignoring the agonizing pain in her abdomen and gripping the breathing tube to rip it out. Only the appearance of Bo stopped her from doing it. “Hey, hey, hey, hey …no, no, no, baby. Don’t do that.” Bo dropped the coffee she was holding and dashed to Inca’s side, holding her up with one strong arm and gently pushing her hands away from the tube. “Nurse! Somebody help me!” Two nurses and a doctor came racing in, and between them, they managed to calm Inca down. She gestured furiously at the breathing tube. The doctor injected her with a sedative. “Mrs. Winter, if you calm down, I can do some checks, and if you’re breathing on your own, I’ll consider removing the tube. But you have to calm down for me …your abdomen is recovering from serious wounds and the resultant surgery. If you tear an artery, you will bleed out and die. Okay?” Inca saw Bo wince. The other woman looked back at her and tried to smile. “Welcome back, gorgeous.” She kissed the back of Inca’s fingers,

and Inca felt her tears on her skin. “Sweetie, while they look after you, I’m going to get Raff—he’s only getting some coffee. I’ll be right back.” Inca nodded, the effects of the sedative kicking in. The doctor and nurses did their tests, but a few moments later, Inca could only see him – her Raffaelo. The look of relief and love on his face was overwhelming, and she thought, as she had done once before, that his smile was better than any painkiller they might give her.

AMA WAS nervous about walking into the hospital room and seeing her friend so hurt and brutalized. She had not been to see Inca when she was in a coma. Raff had wanted to limit Inca’s visitors because of the risk of infection, and Enda and he had agreed that it would be too hard on Ama. Ama was convinced Raff blamed her for his wife’s stabbing, even though both Enda and Tommaso assured her nothing could be further from the truth. “He’s just gone into over-protective mode. Although, at this point, I wouldn’t say anything is too overprotective as far as Inca goes.” Tommaso had been almost as devastated by Inca’s attempted murder as Raff, and Ama remembered that he, Tommaso, had loved Inca first. She had hugged

him. “I love her too,” she whispered to him, and he nodded, fighting back the tears. She saw Raff first, and he came to her and wrapped his arms around her. “She’s just sleeping. The pain killers make her so tired.” Ama walked in and tried not to give a cry of horror. Inca had lost a lot of weight. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her lovely face, even in sleep, was creased in pain. Ama wobbled, and both Raff and Enda steadied her. Ama turned to Raff. “Is she going to be okay?” Raff drew in a deep breath. “We hope so. It’ll be a long road to recovery—even longer than last time. We’ll get there. Do you want to sit with her for a while? She should wake up soon.” Ama nodded. “How much does she know? I don’t want to upset her.” “Everything. She asked to be told everything. It … god …she’s stronger than even I realized.” Ama touched his face. “Raff, I’m so sorry about the baby.” He half-smiled, but it was a strained thing. “The strange thing is …we had made our peace with not having kids. This seems like a cruel joke. As if

being stabbed nine times by two men twice her size wasn’t bad enough.” His voice broke and he looked away. Enda gripped his shoulder. “Come on, Raff. I’m buying you a strong coffee and something to eat. Cara mia, do you mind if we leave you two alone for a while?” Ama shook her head. “I’ll be here with Inca. Take as long as you need.”

I NCA WOKE LESS than ten minutes later, and Ama helped her sip from a cup of water. Inca smiled at her. “Hey, you. How are you? Is there any news?” Ama bugged at her. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking if you’re okay?” “Well,” Inca looked down at the heavy bandaging around her torso. “I’m going to say I’m all set.” She grinned, but then her smile faded. “And don’t even think you’re responsible for this. Raff told me that’s what you told Enda and it’s a bunch of crap. This is all Jackson Gallo. Asshole.” ‘Asshole’ was such an understatement when it came to describing Jackson that suddenly Ama got the giggles. Inca looked at her in surprise, then started to laugh too. “Oww, oww, don’t make me laugh. My stomach muscles are compromised.

Oww!” But she dissolved into giggles too. “I don’t know why I’m laughing,” Ama said, wiping her eyes, “You’re in here, my sister’s still missing, and Jackson …” “Is still breathing,” Inca said, her smile fading. “Girl, if you can wait until I’m mobile, I say you and me go Black Ops on his ass.” “From your lips to God’s ear, Inks. But seriously now, I am so sorry you got dragged into this. I can’t imagine what it was like.” Inca winced a little as she shifted in the bed. “Personal. That’s the word I keep coming back to. The man who stabbed me …it was personal for him. He enjoyed it. He got off on sticking that knife in my belly. Jackson’s surrounded himself with men like him. Psychotic, sociopathic, and devoid of empathy. They like to kill, and they like to kill women.” Ama dropped her head in her hands and moaned. “Inks…I can’t sit around waiting for Jackson to kill Selima. I know the men are doing everything their money will allow. It’s not enough.” Inca was studying her. “Now I know you’re not thinking about going to Jackson?” Ama met her gaze. “If it was a choice between you

and Raffaelo …what would you do?” “Jesus, Ama …you can’t ask me that. Goddamn it.” Inca’s voice broke. “I wish you hadn’t told me. Please, darling, I’m begging you. Don’t give in to him.” Ama shook her head. “No, you misunderstand me. I have no intention of giving into him. I’m going to kill him.”

AMA WAS quiet on the way back to the villa that night, and when they got home, Enda sent the staff home and they went to their bedroom. Enda sat on the bed. “What’s going on in that mind?” he asked gently. Ama sat next to him, brushing her fingers through his hair. “Enda …I think we need to go back to San Francisco.” Enda looked at her, and she could see the conflict in her mind. Finally, he sighed. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. We’re not getting anywhere here. It’s just …the thought of you being in his sightline.” “We don’t know he’s there, but I guarantee he’ll be watching. We go back. I go back to work as if nothing’s changed. We—you and I—will be visible in society. We goad him into contacting me again.

We make a deal. Me for Seli—“ “No way. That’s not’s going to happen, cara mia,” Enda got up and paced the room. “I agree we should be there, but if you think we’re going to use you as bait.” Ama sighed. “I think it’s too late to consider anything else, baby. I am his bait. I’m what he wants. We’ve established he could be anywhere in the world, which means I’m already in his sights. He knows we’re here. That’s why he sent men to kill Inca. He wanted me to know he is always close.” Enda looked unhappy and was silent for a long time, looking out of the window. Finally, he returned to her side. “Fine. But the level of personal security you’re getting will be insane, okay? Please. I know you hate the intrusion, but this is your life we’re talking about. Until Jackson is …put out of action …you’ll have to promise me.” Ama nodded slowly and met his gaze. “I promise, Enda. I do. But we’re getting Selima back alive.” He pressed his lips to hers and she kissed him back, almost urgently. “Take me to bed, Enda, and fuck me hard.” She felt his lips curl up in a smile. “That’s my girl.”

He pushed her back on the bed and began to unbutton her dress, taking the time to kiss every inch of skin he uncovered. Ama sighed, giving into the sensations he was sending through her. When his mouth found her sex, she shivered, and as his tongue lashed around her clit, she stroked his hair. “Baby, I want to taste you too.” Enda grinned at her, then stepped back, stripped off, and climbed onto the bed so she could take him into her mouth while his tongue returned to tease her clit. His cock filled her mouth, the silky skin of the shaft soft against her exploring tongue, the underlying muscle growing more rigid. She moaned as Enda spread her legs wider and plunged his tongue deep into her cunt. His cock grew hard in her mouth as she teased the sensitive tip with her tongue, and she tasted the salty pre-cum. As they drove each other on, Enda came in her mouth, and she swallowed him down greedily. Almost frenzied in their lust, Enda moved to kiss her mouth, pushing her knees to her chest, and she clawed at his back as he slammed his cock into her, biting down on her shoulders and breasts. She screamed his name as he made her cum over and over, tangling her fingers in his dark curls and pulling hard. It was the most feral, uninhibited fuck they had ever had, and Ama felt strength and ferocity running hot through her veins.

As Enda Gallo, her love and her life, fucked her long and hard into the night, Amalia smiled to herself. Fuck you, Jackson. You’ll never take this away from me. You’re going down, asshole.

SAN F RANCISCO , a week later …

I T WAS ALMOST as if Ama expected Jackson to be waiting at the airport, Selima in one hand and a gun in the other. The nightmares plagued her. Selima crying, bruised, begging Ama not to do it. Jackson’s triumphant grin as he let Selima run to Enda, then shoved the muzzle of the gun against Ama’s belly and pulled the trigger. She shivered. She knew it was ridiculous, but when they landed the private jet at the airport and stepped out into the California sunshine, she scanned the area looking for him. Instead, a darkwindowed town car pulled up, and Olivier—lovely, sweet Olivier got out. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to go down the steps. Olivier swept her up in a bear hug. “God, it’s good to see you, little one.”

Ama clung onto him. He looked tired and drawn. “I’m sorry we left you alone for so long with this, Olly.” He held her tightly. “As long as you’re safe, that’s all I care about …and I bring positive news. Chase is out of his coma and talking. We think Selima is still in the state, but being hidden in an underground facility. After he was shot, Chase said he remained conscious long enough to hear Jackson say to take Selima to the ‘facility’ and that he “will join them in an hour.” The F.B.I. have gone over Jackson’s records with a fine-tooth comb. They have a few leads.” Ama’s heart was in her throat. “God, really?” Olivier grinned at her and his brother. “Really. Now let’s get you home.”

JACKSON GALLO WAS INFORMED that Ama and Enda were back in San Francisco less than half an hour later. He smiled smugly – Ama knew she was in a no-win position and Jackson banked on her doing everything to get her sister back alive. He moved quickly through the corridors of the underground facility he had purchased after he had become engaged to Ama. He had it fitted out with

comfortable rooms, hot water, heating, kitchens, and bathrooms; he knew that Amalia Rai did not want to marry him and he did not want to have to resort to the lengths he had with Penelope. After all, the goal was to sleep with Ama, not kill her— not at first—so if she had defied him, then he would have brought her here and kept her confined until he decided her punishment. Now it had proved useful for her sister. Selima Rai wasn’t as spirited as her sister, but she still tried to attack him every time he went near her. Now she was handcuffed to the bed, and when Jackson went to taunt her, he made sure to stay out of her reach. He opened the door to her room. Selima glared at him, but didn’t get up. Her hair hung in strands around her face. Jackson sighed. “For god’s sake, clean yourself up. You look terrible.” “Fuck you, Jackson, I don’t have to look pretty for anyone, let alone the man who kidnapped me and killed my boyfriend.” Jackson shrugged. “He got in the way. If you and your sister didn’t act like whores, none of this would be happening.” Selima spat at him. “You’re pathetic.” Jackson wiped his face. “And, yet, I seem to be

holding all of the cards.” “She won’t come back to you. I won’t permit it. Enda, Olivier …they won’t permit it. So, you might as well kill me now and cut your losses.” Jackson rolled his eyes. “You know, you could be grateful. There’s a cell in this building. A great, hard, cold concrete cell that you could be in. It’s only through my good graces that you’re keep fed, warmed, and in this luxury.” He gestured around the comfortable room with its four-poster bed and big-screen T.V. “Shut your mouth, enjoy what you’ve got here, and pray I don’t kill you the second Ama comes back to me.” Selima went quiet then, and Jackson turned to go. Before he reached the door, she spoke up, her voice breaking. “Are you going to kill Ama?” He didn’t answer her.

C HASE C APLAN FELT like a hole had been punched through his chest. Which, come to think of it, it had, he thought and grinned to himself. It took a lot to make Chase feel down, but being shot had come pretty close. After waking up from his coma, his first question had been “Is Selima okay?”

When he was told, she was still missing, he hadn’t hesitated in asking to talk to the police, and to Olivier. The doctors had wanted him to take it easy. He ignored them. Today, he would meet Selima’s sister for the first time. He wondered how he would feel, seeing someone who resembled his lover so much. In the few weeks, he and Selima had been together, he had fallen hard for the tiny Indian-American woman. Every moment they were together was the most fun he’d ever had, and even though he was a salt-of-the-earth, straight-A, country boy, he found himself acting more spontaneously …recklessly? Had they been reckless the night Selima had been taken?

THERE HAD BEEN a roof party at one of their friend’s apartments, and they had stayed late, Selima sitting on his lap as they shared a beach chair. The night had been sultry, lines of twinkle lights strung around the rooftop and soft music playing. Selima had snuggled into his big chest, and he had kissed the top of her head. “Hey, beauty.” “Hey, you.” She’d looked up at him as he kissed her mouth gently. Selima had sighed happily. “God,

what a great night.” “Not over yet.” He’d grinned at her meaningfully, and she’d laughed. “You know,” she’d lowered her voice. “My place is only about four blocks from here …but there are a lot of dark alleyways we could take shortcuts through.” He had gotten her meaning and chuckled. “Why, Ms. Rai, you’re tryin’ to ruin my reputation, huh?”

THEY HAD MADE their way home, ducking into alleyways to make out, and when they had reached the one nearest Selima’s apartment, she’d grinned up at him, leaning back against the wall and hitching up her skirt. “Come here, farm boy, and fuck me good.” Chase had laughed, but gathered her to him, pressing her back against the wall and sliding her panties down her legs. Selima’s hands had been at his fly, freeing his engorged cock from his underwear. He’d thrust into her, and she’d given a half-shocked laugh at the force of him. They’d fucked silently against the wall, only pausing midway as an elderly man walked past the end of the alleyway, stopping to let his dog pee on a dumpster.

Selima had started giggling, and Chase had to put his hand over her mouth to silence her.

STUMBLING HOME AFTERWARD , neither of them had seen the men waiting for them. When one had stepped out of the shadows and grabbed Selima, Chase was on him immediately. Then the other guy had begun to pull him away, Selima screaming at them. “Don’t hurt the girl.” He’d heard a clipped American accent, glanced around, and recognized Jackson Gall immediately. Jackson had smirked, holding Selima back as the men had whaled on Chase, and when one had knocked him to the ground, the other had pulled out a gun, and Chase had felt his chest explode. Selima had screamed as Chase realized he’d been shot and that he could no longer move his body. His head had whirled as he saw Selima pushed into a car. “Take her to the facility,” Jackson Gallo had instructed his men, “I’ll follow you in an hour.” Chase had wanted to shout, to scream, to tell Selima he would save her, but he hadn’t been able to speak or move. His entire body had been cold— too cold. Gallo had leaned over him and smiled. “I really don’t care if you live or die, my friend, but if

you live, tell Amalia this …her sister will suffer the same fate as Penelope and Inca unless she comes back to me. Tell her to wait for my call.” Chase closed his eyes, and for once, let the despair take over him. Selima, I will do everything I can to find you. But he felt helpless. An hour later, he felt the despair even more keenly when Selima’s sister walked into the room, took one look at him, and put her arms around him. Then, for only the third time in his twenty-six years on the planet, Chase Caplan cried.

I NCA FINISHED ANOTHER BOOK , then put it on the pile next to her bed. Her recovery was going well, but slowly—and she was bored. Raff, Tommaso, and Bo kept her company as much as they could, but Raffaelo was looking for the men who had tried to kill his beloved wife, as well as helping out Enda and Ama, and Bo and Tommaso had seven kids to try to juggle. Stella and a couple of other girls from the tea house had been in to see her, as well as some of her friends from Naples, but they treated her as if she were a fragile thing and Inca had had enough of it. She was pissed, almightily pissed, at being back in this situation. When Raffaelo came in to see her, she had worked

herself up into a temper. “I want out of here, Raff. Tonight. I’m not even on any drips or feeds or whatever anymore. I hate this. I hate being here.”

R AFF LET HER RANT AWAY, holding her hand. The psych doctor had told him to expect this—to expect a kickback from not having processed the attack. Inca had told the police everything, then had not wanted to talk about it again. Neither had she wanted to discuss the baby. Raffaelo could see the heartbreak in her eyes, but she would not even contemplate what their lives would have been like if their child had been born. They had tested the dead embryo and discovered it was a girl, but Raffaelo had not told Inca that. She was particularly close to Tommaso and Bo’s only daughter, Hermione (named by their two oldest sons, who were Harry Potter mad), and Raff had caught her looking wistfully at the girl as she played with her brothers. Damn it. Even his chest cramped up with despair as he thought about how close they had come to being parents. A little girl, he thought, who looked like her beautiful mother and maybe had my eyes. But it wasn’t to be. Raff waited for Inca to rant herself out, then held her as she started to cry. He

knew it was just frustration; Inca wasn’t someone who felt sorry for herself. When she was just hiccupping, and looking embarrassed, he brushed his lips against hers, back and forth, until he felt her lips curve up in a smile. They knew each other so completely now and had perfect trust between them. Inca drew away and touched his cheek. “Sorry, baby.” “Don’t apologize. I love you, Principessa.” She sighed and smiled. “As I love you. Give me some good news, darling.” Raff grinned. “I can, actually. Selima’s boyfriend woke up and has given them some great information. They think Jackson has her somewhere in California.” Inca’s eyes opened wide. “Wow, that is good news. Are you going to California, then?” Raff was astonished. “Are you kidding me? I’m not leaving you alone.” “Baby, you have three armed guards outside my hospital room at all times. No one is getting in here.” Raff shook his head. “Inca, there’s no doubt in my

mind that the men who stabbed you are still in Naples. They will have been told to watch us and possibly finish the job.” He swallowed hard and shook his head at that. “Finish the job if you survive. And you have. I’m not letting you out of my sight, Principessa. I will find them, and I will kill them. I promise you that.” Inca took his hand, seeing his distress. “I love you, Raffaelo Winter.” “Ti amo, Inca. Ti amo.”

AMA AND C HASE talked for hours, until she could see the young man was exhausted. He still protested when she told him he needed to rest. “I’ll come back tomorrow, if I may. Enda won’t let me go back to work just yet, until he puts all the protection he wants into place, so I’ll go crazy stuck at Olivier’s house alone.” Chase nodded. “Please do. I’d like you to meet my family when they come visit me.” Ama gingerly hugged him. “Selima has good taste in men.” Chase laughed. “She’ll tell you what a doofus I am when she comes home.”

They smiled, but the hopelessness they both felt was palpable. Ama shook herself. “We’ll get her back, Chase, I promise.” The young man’s eyes were serious. “Don’t promise that.” Ama nodded. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t …but I will stop at nothing to get her home safely. Goodnight, Chase.” “Night, Ama. See you tomorrow.”

HER PROTECTION DETAIL— TWO HUGE, heavily armed men called Trevor and Dustin—drove her back to Olivier’s house. When she got home, only Enda was waiting for her. “Olivier’s had to go to New York for business overnight.” Ama went into his arms. “God, I missed you today.” Enda smiled and brushed his lips against hers. “And I missed you. Tell me what Chase said.” He led her to the sofa and Ama filled him in on everything Chase had told her. When she repeated Jackson’s threat about Penelope and Inca, Enda nodded slowly. “Interesting. So, does he think Inca is dead?”

“I don’t know. Raff kept the stabbing out of the papers for Inca’s protection. That’s all I know.” “Hmm. I talked to Raff earlier. He’s convinced the men who attacked Inca are still in Naples. It wouldn’t be hard for them to find out she was alive …so how come they haven’t told Jackson that she survived?” Ama considered this. “Maybe they don’t want him to be angry for their failing? Maybe he paid them in full to kill Inca, and because she survived, then maybe it means he’ll demand his money back?” She sighed heavily. “Maybe it’s because they want to finish the job.” Enda nodded slowly. “Or maybe there’s a chink in the armor. Maybe after they stabbed Inca, they had a change of heart.” Ama looked skeptical. “Doesn’t seem likely.” “Unless Jackson got cheap and hired nonprofessionals. After all, a professional hitman would have—and I’m sorry to put this image in your head—made sure Inca was dead. He would have probably shot her in the head and left. These assholes enjoyed the close nature of the attack— stabbing her and watching her suffer. I’d say they were local criminals, and I’d also say … if we find them, we could get information out of them.”

“If Raff doesn’t kill them first.” “If that, yes. I’ll talk to him.” Ama smiled at her lover. “What would you do?” Enda’s face was set. “They’d be dead the minute I found them. But that won’t help anyone.” Ama stroked his face. “Enough now. I’m assuming, because you would have told me already, that there’s no news on Selima.” “Right.” Ama sighed. “Then, Enda Gallo, let’s go to bed. I need a distraction. I need to release this tension. My whole-body aches because of it, and I can see yours does too. Take me to bed.”

E NDA’ S HANDS slid under her dress and he pulled it over her head. His lips were against hers, then trailing down her neck to her full breasts. As he took her nipple into his mouth, his hands were pushing her panties down. Ama stepped out of them and shivered as he teased her nipple until it was hard. Doing the same to the other, his lips then moved down her stomach to her belly, his tongue rimming her navel.

“Enda …” Her voice was soft, and he stood as she unbuttoned his shirt and his pants. Her lips were soft and sweet on his and Enda felt a rush of adrenaline course through him. Both naked, they tumbled onto the bed, and Ama moved down his body until she could take his cock into her mouth. Tracing the tip of her tongue up the shaft, she teased his sensitive tip until she could taste the salty pre-cum. His cock was rock-hard and trembling under her touch, but before he could cum, he pulled her on top of him and impaled her, his long, thick shaft plunging deep into her velvety cunt. Ama gave a long moan of pleasure, and Enda had to hold back. His hand stroked her clit as she rode him, and he was transfixed by the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her. “God, you’re beautiful, cara mia.” The low light in the room made her skin look golden. Her breasts were ripe and plump and her silky belly had that slight curve to it. Her dark hair tumbled in waves over her shoulders and her lovely face was flushed pink from her arousal. Ama began to move quicker as they became more aroused, and Enda’s cock swelled and became almost unbearably sensitive. He came hard, his body jerking and bucking her under as he ejaculated deep inside her. Ama gave a cry of release and shuddered, her breath coming in short gasps as her orgasm rippled through her.

As they caught their breath, Enda pressed his lips to her forehead and Ama snuggled in close to him. They had no need for words.

TWO DAYS LATER , a nervous and trembling Ama returned to the Music Conservatory. As Trevor and Dustin drove her into the city, she realized she was more nervous about facing her colleagues and students than she was about any threat Jackson might be. She was glad that her best friend, Christina, would be there to support her today. Since her apartment had been broken into, Christina had been staying with her boyfriend and had reported no more threats or strange occurrences. When Ama thought about what had happened to Inca, she couldn’t help, but be utterly relieved that Jackson had left Christina alone. Enough people have been hurt, she thought now as the car pulled up to the school. Maybe today would be the day Jackson would realize she was back and get in touch. She knew it was a long shot that anything would happen the first day back. Jackson wouldn’t be so reckless. He would know the security measures Enda had put in place. But Ama had no doubt that he would be watching. She pushed the thought away. Act normally, as if he wasn’t holding her beloved sister hostage. That

will enrage him. Jackson wants the attention. All the things Enda told her went through her head again now. Christina met her at the door and the two women hugged for a long moment. “Hey, girl.” Christina, her black hair pulled up into a chignon and her slender figure in jeans and t-shirt, smiled at her, but her eyes were worried. “Are you okay?” Suddenly Ama felt like crying. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and Christina smiled, understanding. “Come on. Let’s get some of that atrocious coffee they serve in the cafeteria.”

A HALF HOUR LATER , she went up to her office. Christina had shown her around the two music rooms that were fire-damaged. “We were lucky someone spotted it before it spread too far, but it’s awkward these two being out of use for the time being.” Enda had offered the school the money to repair the damage and would not take no for an answer. Ama felt bad though; it had another ‘fuck you’ from Jackson toward her. In her office, Lena hugged her too. “So good to have you back, boss.”

Ama smiled. “Sorry to have abandoned you for so long. But I come bearing more news.” Lena studied her. “You’re leaving for good, aren’t you?” Ama nodded. “I am. I’m sorry, but I want to be with Enda, and I want to be in Italy. He and Raffaelo Winter are opening music schools across the world, and I’m going to help them.” She smiled. “So, if you feel like a change of pace or of country, we could always use superb administrators. But don’t tell the dean I said so. I’m already in trouble for giving notice.” Lena nodded, but her eyes were sad. “I’ll miss you.” Tears threatened again. “Don’t make me cry.” Ama smiled at her assistant. “Come on, boss me around for a bit. I’ll feel like I’m home then.” Lena grinned. “Okay, well, there’s your email folder. Don’t even ask how many unread you have. I’ve tried to sort them into folders in order of importance, and I deleted all the spam, but still. Any marked private, I haven’t opened. I promise. They’re in a folder on your desktop.” Ama sat down at her desk and flicked her work laptop on. She had left everything behind when

she’d fled to Italy, including this old machine, and it took a while for the computer to boot up. She went to put a fresh pot of coffee on and noticed the fine layer of dust covering everything. With a note of sadness, she realized this place was a stranger to her, and she to it. She had given the dean her notice—three months— and he had been sad, but understanding. Enda had already spoken to him about the extra security, telling him in confidence the situation with Ama and her sister. The Dean had been appalled, of course, and promised to do everything in his power to protect Ama. Ama sat back down at her desk and clicked open the private email folder. Private messages from an ‘unknown’ addressee filled the screen. Ama swallowed, knowing they all had to be from Jackson. The first one was dated the night she left him, and it was a rambling, venom-filled email telling her she was a whore and that Enda was a bastard who was only romancing her to pay Jackson back. All vitriolic swill, but nothing Ama wouldn’t have expected. She almost deleted it, then paused. It was still evidence, wasn’t it? There were a few more angry rants around the same date, but then, for a period of some months, nothing. Then, the day Jackson had abducted Selima, the email started again. Ama clicked on the first one.

Time’s up. With the short phrase was a photograph of the inside of Christina’s apartment, trashed, with the bloody messages scrawled across the walls. The second email was a photo of a small fire being set in the music rooms in the conservatory. So, that had been Jackson. Ama didn’t want to think about what was included in the few emails left, but she made herself click on them in order. She gave a squeak of distress. Chase Caplan lying on the sidewalk, blood spread across his t-shirt, his eyes closed. The moment Selima had gone missing. The next email showed Selima chained to a bed, looking cowed, but thankfully not bruised. Ama studied the photo of her sister minutely, trying to see the expression in Selima’s eyes, then trying to place the bedroom. She shook her head, her chest hurting with the pain of knowing her sister was somewhere and she couldn’t get to her. The next email took her breath away. A woman she didn’t know lay slumped in the front seat of a car, her dress soaked in blood, the hilt of a knife protruding from her stomach. Dark red stab wounds covered her torso. The woman’s soft caramel hair hung to her shoulders, her eyes were closed, and

her pretty face still contorted with pain and horror, even in death. Penelope. Oh, Jesus Christ, Oh, god, oh god … Ama felt nausea rise in her throat. The last email she hesitated to open. When she did, she saw this one was a video file. From the screenshot at the start, she could see the outside of Inca’s teahouse in Naples and knew instantly what she would see. Ama closed her eyes. I don’t know if I can do this … But maybe there would be some clue … She hit the play button. Someone, obviously wearing a camera, walked into the cool, shaded lower floor of the tea house. Ama saw Inca cleaning up alone. God, she looked so happy and so beautiful in her little tea-dress. She smiled at the men with the cameras, and Ama heard her say “Hey, fellas, come on in. We have plenty of room. Upstairs or down. I’m Inca, so if you need anything just ask.” Another man, who was with the cameraman, grabbed Inca so quickly it made Ama jump back from the screen. She saw him pull Inca’s arms behind her, then saw the confusion and fear in Inca’s lovely face. With increasing horror, Ama watched the cameraman pull out the knife and

plunged it into Inca’s belly. Inca gasped in agony, and Ama gave a moan as she watched her friend being stabbed again and again. When he had finished, the men lay Inca on the floor of the tea house. The whole attack took less than fifteen seconds. The cameraman lingered over Inca’s prone body. She was conscious, her eyes confused, gasping for air and for life. The camera zoomed in on her wounds, the blood pooling around her. So much blood. She heard a voice speak gently, almost tenderly to the dying woman. “Jackson Gallo sends his regards.” Ama gasped in horror as the man stabbed Inca one last time, leaving the knife on the floor next to her body. Then the video ended. Ama didn’t even realize she was screaming until Trevor and Dustin burst into the room, and she collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

R AFF WATCHED the video over and over again, his heart shattering. Enda and his security team had told him about it, and Raff had demanded they send it to him immediately. Enda had cautioned him. “Brother …don’t watch it. Please. I can’t imagine anything worse than seeing the woman you love attacked like this. It’s horrific.”

“Inca had to live it. Live it, Enda, not just watch it. I have to do this; there maybe something, or someone I might recognize. You forget I know most people, good or bad, in Naples and Sorrento. This is my home. If they’re locals, I’ll know it.” After failing to dissuade him, Enda sent the video over, and Raff had watched it. The first time, the shock of it had been ice in his veins. The pain on his beloved Inca’s face—the disbelief that this was happening to her again. The knife slicing through the white cotton of her dress, the deep claret red of her blood spreading across it. The absolute cruelty of the man who was stabbing her. He watched it again and again, trying to get used to the horror of it. When he realized that would never happen, he took himself out of the role of husband and tried to focus as an investigator. When the man spoke at the end, Raff heard the accent of the region. Good. That was something he had been right about—they were local. In his old life, before Inca, Raff had opened nightclubs, and had enough underworld contacts that he could show this to them and hope against hope they would recognize someone. His contacts would know he wasn’t about to go to the police with that information. Raffaelo Winter had every intention of getting everything they knew about Jackson, and then, without hesitation, he would make them feel the pain they

had inflicted on Inca tenfold.

I NCA KNEW something was wrong when she woke after napping all afternoon. Her body felt heavy, almost as if it was waterlogged. Her belly screamed with pain, and she felt hot. Too hot for this airconditioned room. She leaned over, reaching for the call button, then felt herself slip and roll. She slammed onto the floor with a moan and then all was darkness.

AMA WOKE in Enda’s arms as the phone rang loudly. Enda groaned and rolled over to answer it as Ama glanced at the clock. No news is good at three a.m., she thought and sat up. Enda was rubbing his eyes. “Yeah? Oh, hey, Raff …what? Oh god …how? When? Jesus …what does the surgeon say?” Ama’s heart caught in her throat. It had to be Inca …Jesus. Ama closed her eyes. Jackson, you fucking bastard. Why didn’t you just kill me? She waited for him to finish the call. He looked shattered. “Inca was bleeding internally. They took her back into surgery four hours ago and they’re

still operating. They can’t stop the bleeding. Raff is …well, you can guess.” Ama dipped her head into her hands and gave a sob. “This is the end, Enda. I’ve had enough. We need to draw Jackson out. We need to end this.” “I agree.” Enda wrapped his arms around her. “Call me selfish or call me a terrible friend, but I never want to have to make that call about you, Ama. And I’m terrified that you’ll do something stupidly selfless and get yourself killed.” Ama cried silent tears. “What if he does that to Selima? I cannot live with that, Enda.” “We’ll figure something out, baby.” “How?” But he didn’t have an answer for her.

R AFF WAS WAITING IN THE RELATIVES’ room with Gajendra and Omar. His phone bleeped and he checked it, relieved at something to do. It was a message from one of his contacts. Yes. I know these men. Call me back when you can. I hope your lovely Inca pulls through. If Raff hadn’t been so gut-wrenchingly terrified

right at that moment, he would have punched the air. Finally, a lead. The surgeon, exhausted and tired, pushed his way into the room, and Raff tried not to see the blood on his scrubs. Inca’s blood. The doctor nodded at him. “She’s stable. We found the bleed; we had thought her spleen hadn’t been damaged initially, but that was where the bleed was.” “Will she be okay?” That was Omar; Raff was too relieved to speak. The doctor hesitated. “We’ve stabilized her. That’s as much information I can confirm. I’m hopeful. Let’s say that. You can see her in the morning, Mr. Winter. Until then, I suggest you go home and get some rest.”

R AFF, of course, went straight to the home of his contact, where he found out the names of the men who had attacked Inca and could finally see a way to fight for the woman he loved.

E NDA PUT down the phone in frustration and Ama rubbed his back. “What is it?”

“I have to go to New York for the day. The business goes on, even if we’re out of action, and I can’t ask Raff to leave Inca’s bedside right now.” Ama hugged him. “Of course you can’t. I have Trevor and Dustin, the silent twins. You go, baby. We can’t let this whole thing stop our lives entirely.” Enda kissed her. “Have I told you I love you today?” Ama grinned. “Well, no, but you certainly showed me. And, if you like, you can show me again before I go to work.” She lay back, still naked from the shower, and Enda grinned, covering her body with his and hitching her legs around his waist. “Is that right, Bella?” Ama grinned and sighed happily as she felt his cock begin to swell, pressing hard against her thigh. “Put that in me, Gallo.” “Such a nag,” Enda chuckled and thrust his cock deep into her, making her gasp. In moments like these, Ama pretended that the rest of the world went away and that she and Enda were the only two people alive. They made love slowly, until Enda brought her to a shattering orgasm. She was still glowing when she

walked into her office an hour and a half later. Lena grinned at her. “You look radiant, boss. Anything to do with that gorgeous man of yours?” Ama grinned, but they were soon bogged down in work. Enda called her as he was about to catch his flight. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I’ll be back around ten tonight.” Ama smiled down the phone. “Honestly, baby, I’m fine. We have a ton of work, so I might be working late myself.”

AS IT TURNED OUT, she was right. The paperwork involved in her handing over her classes to the new teacher which kept her busy all day, and she blinked up at Lena as she came into the office. “Lena, go home. I got this.” Lena shook her head. “Nah, you stay, I stay. I thought I might skip out and get some coffee for us and Trevor and Dustin. Maybe a sandwich?” “God, that sounds good. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Lena grinned. “Not at all.” Ama grabbed her purse. “At least let me give you some money.” “Don’t worry about it. Be right back. Ham and turkey on rye, right?” “You’re an angel.” Lena gave her a strange smile, then left. Ama pondered her expression for a moment, then shrugged and went back to her work.

SHE WAS SO ABSORBED in what she was doing, that when Lens brought the food and coffee back, she forgot about the drink until it was cold. She picked idly at the sandwich. “Isn’t it good?” She looked up to see Lena at the door. “No, it’s lovely, Lena. Sorry. I got distracted. Did you eat?” Lena nodded. “I’ll put that coffee in a microwave if you like? Reheat it?” Ama glanced at the cold coffee cup and wrinkled her nose. “No, it’s okay. It’s never the same. Sorry for forgetting about it.”

Lena shrugged. “It’s no problem.” She hesitated at the door and Ama smiled at her ruefully. “Seriously, Lena, you should go home. I’m almost done here.” “Then I’ll wait.” She went out of the door and Ama frowned. Lena was acting …weirdly? Was that the right word? Usually her younger friend would be out of the door as soon as office hours were over, ready to party all night with her friends. Ama didn’t know how she had the energy to do that and still be early for work every morning. Ama stood and stretched her aching body. The two glass walls of her office, which looked over the conservatory’s atrium, reflected her own image back at her now that the atrium was in darkness. A thump came from outside of her office, and she glanced around, expecting Lena to poke her head around the door and apologize for dropping something. Instead, she heard a muffled cry and darted to the door. Tugging it open, she saw a masked man grabbing Lena. “Hey!” Anger and adrenaline rushed through Ama as she went to help her friend, wondering where the hell Trevor and Dustin were. She body-slammed the guy, who was twice her size, and he dropped Lena, but grabbed Ama and tackled her, shoving her back

into her office. Ama staggered back, and the man was on her, driving his fist into her stomach. Ama couldn’t get her breath and Lena attacked the man from behind as Ama tried to stand. The man knocked Lena across her desk, and as Ama rushed at him, he grabbed her and slammed her down onto her desk. Amalia kicked him hard in the balls and the man went down. Ama slid from the desk and ran to help Lena. She almost made it. As Lena screamed, Ama was grabbed from behind. “No! Don’t hurt her!” But her attacker threw Ama full-force through the plate glass window. The glass shattered and Ama slumped to the floor. Pain. So much pain. Her attacker rolled her over, and Amalia realized she had been impaled on a shard of glass which now protruded from her side. She felt faint. Her attacker gave what sounded like a laugh and yanked the glass out of her. More pain. But she couldn’t scream or move. Then she heard Lena screaming. “No! No! Don’t, please don’t. I did what you asked me to do!”

Ama gave a gasp, pushing herself up into a sitting position just as the man drew the lethal edge of the glass across Lena’s throat. Ama screamed at him. “No!” But it was too late. Lena’s throat split open and she clutched at it as it began to gush blood. She looked at Ama, her eyes huge with terror and sorrow. “I’m sorry,” she croaked, and then slumped to the ground, pumping red, hot blood onto the floor. Ama tried to move, but the pain of the wound in her side made her struggle and her attacker easily picked her up. As he threw her over his shoulder, she caught a glance of Trevor and Dustin slumped outside the office. Were they dead? There was no one else in the conservatory this late, no one to know she was being taken. She screamed and yelled, but then her assailant slammed her head against the wall and knocked her out.

THE NEWS BROKE as Enda was driving back from the airport and he nearly crashed the car. “No, no, please …” All the radio report said was, “Murder at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music …two young women attacked. One has been confirmed dead. The other is missing …”

He knew instantly. Ama. Jackson had followed through on his threats. As he turned towards the conservatory, he strained to hear the radio through the roaring of blood in his ears. Please no … His cell phone buzzed loudly and he pressed the hands-free. “Gallo.” “Enda, it’s me.” Olivier. “Ama’s missing. Have you heard about the killing?” “Yeah,” Enda said, relief flooding through him. Missing. Not dead. “Ama’s been taken?” “Yeah. Jackson had someone on the inside, we think. Ama’s assistant. Ama’s security detail was drugged. They told us the assistant went out for coffee, as they were working late. The two bodyguards drank theirs, but they found Ama’s coffee cup still full. Look, where are you?” “I’m on my way to the conservatory.” “Don’t go there. Come home. The F.B.I. are all over the scene and you being there will complicate things. The security guys are being checked out in the hospital, but they’re coming here after. We’ll coordinate the search for Ama and Selima from here.” Enda pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. He hesitated for a moment. “He’ll kill her,

Olivier. He’ll kill them both.” He heard Olivier sigh. “Not necessarily, Enda. Ama’s a smart girl. She’ll know to play up to his fantasies. To convince him she’s ready to be his. If he falls for that…who knows what Ama can make happen. We have to believe in her now.” Enda nodded, closing his eyes. “I do. I believe in her. But I can’t stay here doing nothing.” “I know. Come home, brother, and we’ll get on it tonight.”

R AFF STROKED his wife’s hair away from her face. Hours of surgery had saved her again, but it had drained her, and she had been sleeping on and off for a few days now, barely able to hold a conversation. A worried Raff asked the doctor about the possibility Inca may have suffered brain damage, but the doctor reassured him that wasn’t what was going on. “She’s just exhausted, Raffaelo, and in my opinion, she’s probably rocking back from the assault. I’ve been worried that she hadn’t seemed to process what happened, and I think this is that. PTSD is common in victims of assault, and especially with Inca’s past, this doesn’t surprise me. She’ll rally, I

promise. In the meantime, Psych will help her.” Raffaelo had been relieved it was something they could handle together. It killed him that Inca had been targeted yet again; how much was one woman supposed to take? Stella tapped him on the shoulder as she came to visit Inca. Raff smiled at her. “Thank you, Stella. It’s good of you to come.” Stella nodded. “It’s my pleasure. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?” Raff looked back at Inca. She was sound asleep again, her breathing regular. “I will, I think. Call me if you need anything.”

HE WAS ALMOST …I have them.”

HOME

before the call came. “Raff

Raff’s adrenaline spiked. It was his underworld contact. “Where?” The contact named an abandoned warehouse outside the city. “You’re sure it’s them?” “Oh, yeah.” Raff’s jaw clenched. “I’ll be right there.”

As he drove out of the city, he tried to stay calm and remind himself that these men might have information that could help them find Ama and Selima. That he, Raff, could ruin everything by killing them. Because, right now, that’s all he wanted to do—rip the bastard who had stabbed his beloved Inca limb from limb with his bare hands and smash the brains of the man who had held her, making her helpless to resist. You’re not helping yourself here, buddy. But he couldn’t help remember the terror in his wife’s eyes as these men tried to kill her. When he reached the warehouse, he sat in his car for a few moments, trying to steady his nerves. Como, his contact, came out to see him. “Hey.” Raff nodded. “Hey. Thanks for doing this.” Como half-smiled. “This scum hurt your lovely girl. It’s my pleasure.” Raff followed him into the warehouse. The two attackers were on their knees, bruised and bloodied. Como’s men had obviously beaten them. Raff didn’t care. His eyes fixed on the man who had knifed Inca so mercilessly. The man stared back and smirked. “Well, if it isn’t the whore’s husband.”

Raff’s fist smashed into the man’s jaw a second later, his temper unleashed. He beat the man almost to unconsciousness before Como pulled him back. Como bent his mouth to Raff’s ear. “My friend …stop now. Look at his accomplice … he’s scared. He’ll talk.” Raff nursed his battered hand and stepped away from the coughing and breathless man on the floor. He looked at the accomplice, who turned wide, terrified eyes on him. “Please,” said the man, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I helped him …I promise you, I thought he was going to torment her …I didn’t see the knife.” Como made a disgusted noise. “Filthy liar.” Raff took a step toward the man and he cringed backward. Como’s guard kicked him in the small of his back and he groaned. “I swear, friend, I didn’t know…” “…Who paid you?” Raff said in a grim tone. “And don’t lie.” “Jackson Gallo. That’s what he,” he jerked his head towards his injured companion, “told me. He told me Gallo said he needed a distraction so he could send a message to his ex-wife. We were supposed to go kidnap your lady. That’s what he told me …

he told me to grab her and hold her arms behind her. He had a camera. Said Gallo wanted to see her scared. What he meant was …he wanted to see her die. When he stabbed her …I panicked. Thought if I did anything, he’d kill me too and take the money for himself. I’m sorry about her. I am.” The man was jabbering now, and Raff felt pain shoot through him at his words. So, needless. So, cruel. He turned back to the stabber. “You. Talk, now. Anything. And I’ll think about sparing your life.” The man spat blood on the ground. “I don’t know anything. Except what he just said. Gallo wanted her killed. Said it sent a message to not fuck with him. I asked him why he didn’t do it himself. He told me he couldn’t leave the States—that he was in ‘seclusion.' That’s the word he used.” Raff chewed his lip. “Was this a phone call or video call?” “Video.” “You record it?” The man shook his head. His nose was streaming blood. “No.” Raff sighed in frustration. “Tell me about where he was calling from. The room. What was outside the

windows? What was the room like?” The man hesitated. “I got the impression it was …I mean, there were no windows that I could see and his voice sounded echoey. If I had to guess, I would say it was underground.” Raff studied the man’s eyes. He had no reason to lie now; he faced almost certain death the minute Raffaelo gave the order. Even a hardened criminal like this man knew the only way to save himself was by helping them. Raff turned away and walked back to Como. The other man leaned into him. “What do you want to be done with them?” Raff didn’t answer, struggling with his morality, and Como saw this. “Raff, whatever you need …we’ll deal with it. There need not be any link to you. Let me deal with them.” Raff bowed his head and rubbed his eyes. It would be so easy to just let Como kill them and deal with the bodies. But Raff knew of old how much the weight of responsibility would weigh on him. He’d had to kill before to save Inca’s life, and it hadn’t sat well with him, although he wouldn’t change a thing. Knox Westerwick had been stabbing Inca when Raff had killed him. This was a different situation.

He looked at Como. “No. They might know more. Give them to the police.” “Are you sure?” Raff nodded. “Very. Too much blood has been spilled already. They can go to jail.”

HE KNEW he had made the right decision for himself, for Inca, and for Amalia. Any information was critical now, and as he drove back to the hospital, he called Enda and relayed the information he had discovered. A tired, shatteredsounding Enda thanked him. “Is there any news, Enda? Anything?” “Nothing as yet, Raff. But this will help …we know now they are in California somewhere. If your contact is right and they’re somewhere underground, it narrows things down, assuming there’s a record of it somewhere.” Raff heard the desolation in his friend’s voice. “I’ve been there, Enda. I know what it’s like. We’ll find them, I promise.” Enda gave a strangled sob. “God, I hope so … I don’t know what I’ll do if we don’t.”

AMA’ S HEAD was screaming with pain, and for a long moment, she debated whether or not to open her eyes at all. Her mind was fuzzy, her chest felt tight, and she became aware of her wrists being tied, plastic biting into the skin. Her mouth was tinder-dry, and she couldn’t get a sense of time or place. She opened her eyes. There was a harsh strip light above her and it made her eyes water. She blinked rapidly, then saw him. Jackson. “Hello, my darling.” Ama struggled into a sitting position and saw she was in a cell-type room, with gray concrete walls and no windows. “Where’s my sister?” Jackson smiled. “Safe. Her room is significantly more comfortable than this one. If you’re good, I’ll consider putting you together.” Ama’s chest tightened even further. “You have me now, Jackson. Let her go. Please.” Everything inside her rebelled against begging him, but for Selima’s safety, she would do anything. Jackson laughed. “Really? You think it’s that easy?” He came to sit next to her. “Now, I’m going to untie you. If you try anything, my men will torture

Selima before they kill her. Do you understand?” Ama nodded and Jackson pulled out a knife. He cut the plastic ties and Ama rubbed her wrists in relief, eyeing the blade Jackson held. He saw her watching it and grinned. “Yep. I don’t even need to tell you that this will end up in your gorgeous body if you even think about escaping, do I?” “What do you want from me, Jackson?” He leaned over and crushed his lips against hers before answering her. “My wife. That’s not too much to ask, is it?” “So why keep Selima? Please, Jackson, I’ll do whatever you want. Just let her go.” Jackson studied her. “Prove to me you can be a good, obedient wife and I’ll consider it. I promise you that. But you need to be my wife in every way, Ama. Every way. Do you understand?” Ama closed her eyes and nodded. God, Enda … forgive me. She felt Jackson’s fingers unbuttoning her dress and felt the cold air on her bare skin as he undressed her. She took her mind out of the moment as he fixed his mouth on her breasts and her belly. Pretend it’s not him, she told herself over and over. She wanted to conjure a good memory of her and Enda, but then pushed that thought away.

She didn’t want to forever link this rape—and that was what it was—to the glorious lovemaking she and Enda shared. As Jackson pulled her legs around him and thrust into her, a tear slid down Ama’s face. If it weren't for Selima, she would have rather died than give in to the repellent man inside her now. Jackson fucked her, grunting and shouting her name so loudly, she wondered with a pang if, wherever Selima was, she heard it and knew what was happening. That hurt the most. As Jackson finished, Ama could not help but burst into tears. Jackson grinned. “Yeah, cry all you want. Next time, I expect you to at least act like you enjoy it. If you do, I’ll take you to your sister, but, by god, Ama, you better give the performance of your life.”

E NDA COULDN ’ T SLEEP . He was staying with Olivier, and his brother did everything to help Enda feel positive and hopeful. But even though he adored Olivier, his brother couldn’t lift the black cloud that stayed with him at all times. Enda missed Ama—her presence, her voice, her laugh, and her scent. He hated that he woke up alone. Now, in the early morning hours, he lay on his back and looked over to ‘her’ side of the bed. He pictured her

sleeping on her stomach, her eyes closed, the thick, dark lashes sweeping her cheeks. Her green eyes opening sleepily, but softening when she saw him. “Hello, baby.” He would lean over and brush his lips against hers, then make her laugh by rubbing his stubbly chin against hers. She would stretch that heavenly body as he moved across the bed, his cock already straining and engorged for her, and she would open her arms to him, her legs winding around his hips as he slid into her velvety, wet cunt. They would make love slowly, savoring every sensation that rippled through them both, not caring about morning breath, just gazing at each other. Love. Such pure love. As they became more excited and his thrusts became harder, faster, and deeper, he would hear her gasps for air. When she came, back arching, her belly against his, her head thrown back, her pink lips parted as she gave a moan of release. Ama … The sorrow inside him was crushing him, and Enda got out of bed and dressed. He couldn’t just sit here and wait for the police to show up and tell him they’d found her body. Even if Olivier was right and Ama knew how to manipulate Jackson, the thought of what she might have to do killed Enda.

He crept out of the house and got into his car. The police said the old Gallo mansion had been gutted in the fire; he was going to go there and see if he could find any clue, anything at all, left in the ashes of the place to tell him where Jackson was holding Ama.

“NO ! No! Don’t. Please don’t. I did what you asked me to do!” Ama woke with a start. Lena …they’d killed her, but what had she meant by, ‘I did what you asked me to do?’ Was she in on the kidnapping? Ama felt sick, dashed to the little toilet in the corner of the room, and threw up and up until she collapsed, exhausted, onto the floor. For the first time, she noticed a small camera high in the corner of the room, trained on the bed. He was watching her. Ama’s skin began to crawl. How the hell was she going to escape him? More importantly, how was she going to protect Selima from him? Ama winced now. The wound in her side from the glass at the conservatory had been patched up by whomever had brought her back to Jackson, but the dressing felt heavy. She eased it off and moaned. The wound had been stitched, but the skin around it looked angry and red. Infection. Fuck. If blood

poisoning killed her, Jackson would have no reason to release Selima or even keep her alive. Ama knew, with a sinking heart, she would have to ask him for help. She stumbled over to where the camera was pointing and indicated her wound to it. “It’s infected,” she said, not knowing if the room was bugged or if anyone could hear her. “I need antibiotics.” She sat back down on the bed, feeling feverish and sick. Ten minutes later, the door unlocked, and Jackson entered, followed by a smaller, nervouslooking man. “This is Dr. Harris,” Jackson said shortly. “He’s here to help you.” Ama nodded and tried to smile at the doctor. “My wound is infected.” Dr. Harris sighed and looked at Jackson. “I told you, Mr. Gallo. That wound is deep. I tried my best, but I’m not a surgeon. She needs to be in the hospital.” Jackson’s face was blank. “Not going to happen. Dr. Harris, I assume you realize what will happen if Ama dies of this infection?” The doctor looked sick, but nodded. “I will have to take some blood, though. I will try to get them

processed quickly and anonymously. In the meantime, I’ll clean up the wound and give Mrs. Gallo some antibiotics.” “You do that.” While he worked, Ama looked at Jackson. It had been three days since that first time they had slept together, and Jackson had demanded sex multiple times a day ever since. Ama had tried to act as if she enjoyed it, while dying inside, and Jackson had responded. He’d brought her extra blankets and pillows, extra food and drink, and some books. She wondered if, now, she could ask for the thing she wanted most. “Jackson …may I see my sister, please? Even for five minutes? I’ll …make you happy later.” She flushed scarlet as the doctor gave her a strange look, but Jackson nodded. “Fine. Five minutes.” She was locked up alone while Jackson took the doctor out, then he returned to her. He tied her hands behind her back. “Just in case you decided suicide is an option and try to attack me,” he said. “I’ll untie them when you’re with Selima. You can have an hour with her today, but I expect you to be ready for me with a smile on your face this evening. Understand?”

Ama nodded, nothing but the excitement at seeing her sister in her mind. Jackson led her through the corridors of the facility. Ama couldn’t see any windows anywhere and quickly realized they were underground. The thought made her miserable. How the hell was anyone supposed to find them? As they walked, the corridors began to look more polished, and by the time they reached Selima’s room, they could have been in a four-star hotel. Jackson opened the door, and Selima turned, the shock on her face when she saw Ama obvious. “Ama!” Selima burst into noisy tears as Jackson untied Ama’s hands and left the room. Both of the sisters heard the lock click, then they were in each other’s arms. “I can’t believe he’s got you here,” Selima said. “What happened?” “He had someone on the inside, I think. God, it’s good to see you, but I wish I weren't, if you know what I mean. How are you? Has Jackson …?” She couldn’t get the words out, and Selima, seeing her distress, shook her head. “No. He hasn’t touched me, I promise.” She looked bleak. “He killed Chase, Ama. He killed my boyfriend.” Ama shook her head. “No. Chase is alive, Selima. I

swear. He’s in a bad way, yes, but he’s a fighter, and god, he loves you. He’s a great guy.” Selima’s tears returned, and Ama hugged her while she cried with relief. “Oh, thank god. Thank god.” Ama buried her own tears in Selima’s hair. “I’m so sorry, boo, about all of this. It’s my fault. I should never have married him …we could have found another way to get you away from that disgusting ex of yours.” Selima sniffed back her tears and wiped her eyes. “You know that’s not true. He would have killed me rather than let me go if Omar’s men hadn’t made sure he couldn’t find me.” “God,” Ama said, fierce now. “What the fuck is wrong with these men? We’re not objects to own, assholes!” She yelled it out loud, and Selima smiled. “That’s more like it.” She sighed. “I’m glad Chase is okay. At least no one else got hurt.” She must have seen something in Ama’s face, then, because she paled. “Who?” Ama hesitated. “Inca. Jackson had her attacked. She almost didn’t make it.” Selima looked sick. “Inca? Why the hell?”

Ama’s mouth hitched up in a small smile. “Jackson doesn’t like it when beautiful women piss him off and treat him like a child. He is that petty and that dangerous. He hired two men to stab Inca to death and it’s a miracle she survived …again.” “She’s okay?” “I wouldn’t say that, but she’s out of danger. I think, anyway. I’ve been here for three days and I’m not sure how long I was unconscious.” She told Selima of the circumstances of her abduction, and then her confusion about Lena’s involvement. Selima listened with a grim expression on her face. “That fucking bitch,” she spat. “I don’t think there’s any doubt, Ama. That two-faced …” “They killed her, Selima,” Ama’s voice broke. “In front of me. He slashed her throat, and I saw her die. She’s been my assistant for years …I don’t know why she would have done this. Until I know the reason, I can’t condemn her …I just can’t.” Selima hugged her sister tightly. “Right. I know. I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Look, it’s my own fault I’m here. Enda wanted me to have protection, but that night, I just wanted to be alone with Chase, so I gave them the slip. Stupidly. Chase was shot and I

was taken. If I had just …” “I think we can go round and round on what we both should have done, but the person to blame for all of this is Jackson.” Selima studied her sister. “He’s making you sleep with him, isn’t he?” Ama nodded. “It’s a small price to pay for your safety.” Selima gagged and dashed into the small bathroom of her suite. Ama, nauseated too, followed her, looking around the small room. No windows. Ama was beginning to feel claustrophobic. “We’re underground, aren’t we?” Selima nodded. “Yes.” She glanced up at the camera and mic above them, then grabbed Ama’s hand, leaning into hug her to hide what she was doing. She traced a word onto Ama’s palm, just like they had when they were young and keeping secrets from their parents. Fresno. Ama was shocked. God, they were so close to home … She opened her mouth to ask a question, but Selima shook her head. Right. They were being watched.

For the rest of the hour, they lay together on Selima’s bed and talked about neutral things …food and their uncle’s house in Hyderabad where they had spent many happy summers growing up. Ama didn’t talk about Italy, or Enda, or their life there. She picked up from Selima to keep all their discussion’s neutral and inoffensive. Maybe if Ama ‘behaved,' they would be allowed to stay together more often. Maybe even permanently. If they could spend the night together, when the lights were out they could communicate via their childish language and figure a way out.

L ATER , the guards took her back to a different suite, not too far from Selima’s, which was again like a hotel room. On the bed was a box containing a note, some expensive-looking lingerie, and a beautiful dark red evening dress. Ama read the note.

B ATHE AND CHANGE into these items. Tonight, we will dine in your new suite, and then you will show me how grateful you are. If you please me, we will talk about your living arrangements and those of your sister.

AMA WANTED TO CRY. She closed her eyes and sat on the bed. Was this actually happening? Forced to have sex with a man and pretend it was all she wanted in exchange for the lives of those she loved. Really, how did Jackson expect all this to turn out? It was then she realized—or rather, acknowledged —what she already knew. She, Ama, wasn’t meant to get out of this alive. Jackson would make her subservient to him until he grew tired of her, and then he would kill her and move on to his next obsession. In that case, she thought fiercely, I will make sure Selima gets home, and I will do anything to make that happen. And if I’m destined to die …I will make damn sure Jackson comes with me. She went into the bathroom of the suite and ran the water into the tub. A selection of toiletries were lined up. She had to admit that, when she stepped into the warm water, it was a relief to be clean again. On the countertop were some packages of new underwear and fresh dressings for her wound. She lay back in the water and let her mind drift to a happy memory. Back in their villa in Italy, their own tub was a vast iron antique that took a half hour to fill, but was the most comfortable she’d ever been in. She and Enda would soak there, kissing and talking as the evening moved into night.

Often their lovemaking would begin in the tub.

THE NIGHT she remembered what happened a few months back. Enda had been late home from work and Ama had been composing a new suite for her students to study when she returned to work. She had forgotten the time, and it was only when she looked up that she had realized it was past eight o’clock. As she always switched her phone off when composing, she’d checked her messages and realized she had missed a call from Enda. She’d called him back. “Ciao, Bella.” She’d grinned. “Hello, gorgeous. I’m sorry I missed your call. I was writing.” “I thought you might be. Listen, I just called to say I’d be late and I wondered if I should pick up a pizza for dinner?” “As long as we can eat it in bed.” Enda had laughed. “That’s what I was hoping. God, what a day.” “Good or bad?” “Good, but busy. Raff and I might have a track on

some investors who are interested in the music schools.” “Sounds fun.” “Ha,” Enda had chuckled, “Fun will be the building of the schools. This is the boring, but worthwhile part. How’s the writing going?” “Okay …I’m not overly happy yet, but it’s getting there. Where are you now?” “Outside Lucio’s,” he’d said, mentioning their favorite pizza place. “Good, so you’re on your way home.” “I’ll be there in a few, cara mia.”

SHE’ D MET him at the front door, wearing only one of his white shirts. He’d grinned as he’d carried the pizza inside, stopping to kiss her. “I’m the luckiest man alive.” “You bet you are.” The pizza had gotten cold, while they were kissing, they’d tumbled to the floor, Ama stripping his jacket and tie off and Enda’s hands pushing his short from her beautiful bod. He’d pinned her down on the cold, hard tile of the lobby and taken her

there, Ama screaming his name as his cock plowed into her, her hips burned as he pressed them further apart. Afterward, they’d eaten pizza in bed and then soaked in the bath. It hadn’t been long until Ama, who had been laying back against Enda’s chest, turned and straddled him in the water, stroking his cock and then impaling herself on it. She’d gazed at her lover, his dark curls wet and sticking to his face, his smile and his green eyes so full of love for her. God, he was glorious. “I want to marry you, Enda Gallo. Someday. When I’m free from Jackson and when all of this is over. No big ceremony. Just you and me on a remote island, away from everybody else. It doesn’t even have to be legal—just enough that you know how much I love you and how much I will love you for as long as I live …” His arms had tightened around her, and his kiss had been fierce and full of passion. “I can’t wait, Amalia, my Principessa. As far as I’m concerned, I’m already your husband.”

I F ONLY THAT WERE TRUE, Ama thought miserably as she dressed for a ‘romantic’ dinner with the monster who was legally her husband. She pulled

on the lingerie he had bought her absentmindedly, then changed the dressing on her wound. She hoped the antibiotics would kick in soon. At least a decent meal would do her good.

SHE WAS ready when Jackson arrived, followed by one of his guards pushing in a trolley loaded with covered plates. The guard left immediately, and Jackson locked the door. He looked her up and down. “You look beautiful, darling.” Ama gave him a half-smile, trying to make it look genuine. “The dress is lovely. Thank you, Jackson.” He beamed. “See how much nicer things are when we are civil? Please sit, Ama, and I will serve.” She sat down obediently, and Jackson put a covered plate in front of her. He made a flourish as he pulled the cover off, but then laughed—almost a giggle, like a naughty school boy. A small handgun sat on the plate. “Oh, silly me, wrong plate.” He leaned in so his face was next to hers and Ama tried not to cringe away from him. “That’s what I’ll use on you if you do anything—anything—to displease me during this dinner, darling. You’ll get three and your sister will get the other three. Now,

can you promise me we will have a good time tonight?” “Yes.” “Louder.” She met his gaze. “Yes, Jackson.” You had better pray I don’t get my hands on that gun, Jackson, because if I do, you’ll wish you’d never been born. She gave him a wide smile and kissed him lightly. Jackson drew back, smiling. “Good.” He tucked the gun into the back of his waistband and swapped the plates over. This time, when he lifted the cover, Ama nearly swooned at the smell of the food underneath. A perfectly cooked T-bone steak oozing with garlic butter, a baked potato, and some lightly-cooked vegetables. Despite her fear and anger, Ama’s mouth filled with saliva. Jackson seemed pleased at her reaction. He sat at the opposite end of the table while they ate, the handgun resting next to his hand. The food was good and Ama suddenly realized she was starving. Jackson poured them some red wine and Ama sipped it. She wondered if she should, given the tablets the doctor had sent for her, but she would do anything to get through this. She started to feel strange as they finished their

entrees. Her head was swirling. Too much wine? As she picked at the fruit salad Jackson had given her for dessert, she started to feel out of it completely. Maybe I’m just exhausted, she thought, but her skin felt like it was on fire. Jackson was watching her carefully. “Something wrong, darling?” His grin was wide. Ama started to stand, knocking her wine glass to the floor. “Jackson …did you put something in my drink?” He laughed. “Just a little something to relax you, Ama. Don’t worry, it won’t harm you. Just make things go a little smoother between us.” Her vision was blurry. “Jackson …I don’t feel so good …” She stumbled toward the bathroom, but Jackson caught her in his arms. “It’s okay, darling. Just relax into it.” She felt herself being carried to the bed, then her skin felt cool as Jackson peeled the dress from her. “Just pretend I’m my bastard brother, Ama …” His voice sounded far away and her limbs felt like liquid. When Jackson’s cock thrust into her, she was barely conscious, but still, the rocking motion and

the smell of him made her want to throw up. Play your role. Don’t forget he holds all the cards here. Say his name. “Jackson,” she whispered and heard his satisfied chuckle. “Good, good …now, Ama, this is only the beginning of the evening. I have a surprise for you.” Ama was so out of it, by the time Jackson had cum, she barely felt him pull her up into his arms and carry her from the room, draped only in the bed sheet. He strode down the hallway with her, and before Ama could try and see where he was taking her, he was walking into a darkened room. “We’re going to have some different kind of fun tonight, my darling.” He set her down onto what felt like a wooden bench, then adjusted the lighting. Ama, blinking to try and wake herself up, felt a jolt of shock go through her. From the ceilings, hung chains with cuffs on the end. A large, wooden bed with stocks and St. Andrew’s Cross stood at the other end of the room. On one wall, whips, paddles, restraints, and harnesses hung from hooks. On another, a huge flat screen T.V. On a credenza under the T.V., knives lay out.

Oh god, someone help me. It was a bondage room, but it had Jackson’s twist on it. It wasn’t a place of experimentation, of BDSM, or of loving adventure, but a torture chamber. He wanted her humiliated, scared, and in fear of her life. That’s what turned Jackson on. She looked back at him, and his face was alive with desire and triumph. “Before you left me for the bastard,” he said. “I was planning to have this built in our home—after Dad had passed, obviously. Eventually, after the two years were up and you were going to leave me, I would have brought you here for one last time. One last time before I killed you. I was never going to accept you leaving me, Ama. You know that now, right?” Barely conscious and terrified, she nodded. Jackson took her in his arms. “Now, there are two ways this evening could go. One…you try to enjoy it and make me happy, and you live. Your sister lives. The other …” He nodded to the case of knives. “I use all of them on you. They won’t even bother to count the stab wounds, Ama, I swear to you. I’ll take my time, and you will know what hell feels like.” “Why?” Ama said now, her voice barely more than

a whisper, “Why me? Why all of this just for me? Why did you try and kill Inca too?” Jackson grinned. “Speaking of which …” He grabbed the remote control and on the flat screen, the video of Inca being stabbed played. Ama gave a cry of distress. “I’ve watched this over and over again, just enjoying the terror and pain on her beautiful face. The way the knife slides into her belly like butter. The way the blood blooms across her dress.” Jackson looked back at Ama, who was trembling uncontrollably. His eyes were cold and dead, and now Ama saw the madness within. “I wish I had ordered the men I sent to kill Penny to film it too. I didn’t even think about it until I ordered the hit on Inca.” He was insane. A monster. A …Ama didn’t have the words for it. But inside her mind, one thought began to fester. He is insane …use that. Use it to get Selima released. Use it to save your own life if you can… Ama knew what she had to do now. She had to push all her feelings aside and allow Jackson to do what he wanted …even it meant the worst kind of violation. If it meant getting him to trust her, she

would take that risk. God, Enda, I’m sorry …I’m trying to fight my way back to you. Please forgive me.

E NDA HAD NOT FOUND anything in the rubble of his father’s home. He’d contacted the forensics team, who had let him examine what little was left of his father and brother’s possessions. There were some old photographs, badly burned and warped, a few old letters that Macaulay had written to Olivier and Jackson’s mother, receipts, and bills. But there was nothing else. No clues. Frustrated, he drove into his office. The police knew to find him there, and at least he could coordinate the search from there. Raffaelo called him just after midday. “Guess what?” “Tell me.” “We’re coming to the States.” Enda was astonished. “Inca’s well enough?” Raff hesitated, then sighed. “Not really, but she is insistent. There’s a surgeon over there who might

be able to fix some of the scarring. Between us, I think Inca’s using that as an excuse. She knows I couldn’t say no to her. She is much stronger now and she’s not hooked up to any machinery. I negotiated a nurse to come with us, but yes, we’re coming to America.” Enda sat down with a bump. “Selfishly, Raff, I can’t wait to see you all, but do you really think this is a good idea?” “Inca and I …we want to be there for you, Enda. You are my brother, and we can’t see you hurting like this.” Enda was so touched he couldn’t speak. Raff laughed softly. “We’ll be there tomorrow, Enda. Stay strong.”

THE NEXT DAY, Enda drove out to the airport to meet their private jet. Inca smiled at him, but he was shocked at how thin and pale she was. Raff hugged him tightly. “We’re all together now …we will find Ama, I swear it.”

E NDA INSISTED THAT R AFF, Inca, and Inca’s nurse, a sweet woman in her fifties called Giovanna, or

‘Vanni,’ as Inca already called her, stay with him. “Don’t be fooled by that gorgeous face,” Inca had warned Enda, as Giovanni giggled, “She rules me with a rod of iron.” Enda marveled again at Inca’s ability to draw people to her, even when she was obviously still in a lot of pain. Raff looked older, saddened, and wrecked by what had happened, but Enda watched him rallying, trying to hide his misery. When Enda got Raff on his own later, Raff admitted he was shattered. “I just feel so damn helpless. Is the answer really locking Inca up in an ivory tower to keep her safe?” “God, I’m so sorry, Raff. If it’s any consolation, I feel exactly the same, man.” Raff nodded. “Of course. Sorry. Look, take me through what you’ve found out already.”

THEY POURED over the maps of California. “We think he planned this down to the most minute detail; wherever his compound is, it is deeply hidden. The places the police and my team have searched all had roads leading to them. Wherever Jackson is, it’s out in the wilds somewhere.” Enda gave a short laugh, running his hands through

his dark hair. “I’ve spent days just on Google Earth, just trying to figure out something. We’re going to have to extend the search, I think.” Raff nodded. “We need new teams, then. People who aren’t jaded from searching.” “I agree. And we need to do this in a grid pattern, I think. However much it costs.” “Money isn’t an object. You know that. Let’s just get them home.”

AMA WOKE UP , her limbs stiff. She felt a hand on her arm and skittered away from it in alarm. “It’s me, Ama.” Selima. Ama let out a long breath. She was in Selima’s room, on top of her bed. Selima poured a cup of water for her. “They brought you here last night, late. Jackson said we could stay together now. He looked …weird.” Ama sipped the cold water and closed her eyes. Last night had been the worst, most degrading, most humiliating night of her life, but she couldn’t break down. Not with Selima still here. Selima put her arms around her sister.

“Talk to me.” “I can’t,” Ama whispered. “I never want you to know what happened.” Her words were enough to make Selima start to weep gently. “Oh, no, no, Ama, no …” Ama hugged her back tightly before releasing her. “I need to bathe.” Selima helped her undress and tried not to let the horror fill her eyes as she looked at the cuts, welts, and bruises on her sister’s body. Ama felt broken, and as she stepped into the tub, she winced as the hot water stung her wounds. She felt disconnected from herself, completely soulless and empty. Jackson had done things to her which she would not allow herself to think of and would certainly never tell Selima ...or Enda. Jackson was a monster, an aberration of a human, and Ama knew now there was only one way she could save her sister, and that was to sacrifice herself. After she had bathed, she knocked on the door. The guard opened it. “Tell Jackson I want to see him. Now. I have a proposal for him.” The guard nodded and was about to shut the door when Ama stopped. “And tell him to bring his favorite knife.”

Selima’s eyes opened wide, but Ama shook her head at her. “I know what to do now, Selima. I’m getting you out of here. So, for the next few minutes, when Jackson gets here, I want you to go into that bathroom and give me some space. Don’t listen to what I’m saying. Can you do that?” Selima nodded, her eyes terrified. When Jackson arrived, Selima went into the bathroom. Ama faced her husband. Jackson studied her and smiled. “You look beautiful.” Ama stared back at him, then dropped her robe. “Am I? Do you like me bruised, cut, and wounded, Jackson?” He grinned widely. “I think you know the answer to that.” “I do.” She walked towards him, naked. “You get off on hurting women; it’s what fuels you, yes?” She grabbed his hand, the one with the knife, and stepped closer so that the tip of the blade pressed against her belly. “Do it, Jackson. You know you want to. Run me through.” Jackson’s eyes grew wary and he jerked the knife away from her. “Why would I want to do that … especially after we discovered new realms of

pleasure together last night.” God …there wasn’t a word for how vile he was. “Do you want to do it again?” “Of course.” “Then here’s my proposal. Let my sister go, unharmed. You or one of your goons delivers her to a hospital, in whatever state you like. When I see she’s safe on the television, I’ll go with you anywhere. I’ll do anything with you. They need never find us.” Jackson narrowed his eyes. “And what if I don’t?” “Then pick up that knife and kill me now. Because if you think I’m going to let you touch me ever again after last night, after what you did to me, without me getting something in return …” His hand shot up and grabbed her throat. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll keep your end of the bargain if I let Selima go?” Ama stared back, her gaze cool. “You don’t. But then you get to kill me and jerk off over my dead body. It’s a win-win for you.” Jackson was quiet for a long moment. “You know how this will end eventually, don’t you, Amalia? Your blood on my hands.”

She nodded. “I know.” He released her, and she stepped back, pulling her robe on. Would he go for it? Ama realized she was holding her breath. Jackson nodded. “I’ll think about it.” “Thank you.”

W HEN JACKSON HAD GONE, Selima came out of the bathroom, tears streaming down her face. She had obviously been listening. “I’m not leaving you.” Ama nodded. “Yes, you are. Selima, look …this is the only way. You’re my best chance. If you can lead the police here, or at least tell them anything, I might have a chance. Otherwise, last night proved to me one thing: Jackson doesn’t intend to let me go alive. Ever. But you do get the chance to live.” Her voice broke, and Selima came to her. “I won’t leave you,” she repeated through her sobs. Ama hugged her tightly. “You have to …you have to tell Enda that I love him. That I’ll love him forever. Please, Selima …please do this for me.”

A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER , Jackson returned with two guards and the doctor in tow. The doctor gave Ama a strange look, but Jackson didn’t notice. “You have a deal, Ama. You,” he looked at Selima. “The doctor is here to give you something for the journey. Don’t worry. It’s just a sedative. Can’t have you picking out details to help identify this place. My men will take you to a hospital, where you will ask to talk to the press so that Ama can see you’re safe. Say your goodbyes, ladies.” Ama hugged her sobbing sister. “Live well, Selima, for me. Tell Enda I love him and that I don’t regret a moment with him.” After a few minutes, Jackson got impatient. “Enough. Doctor!” The doctor injected Selima and Ama held her hand as she passed out. She looked at the two men. “Please take care of her.” One of them nodded and the other stood stonefaced. Ama kissed her sister’s forehead, and the men carried Selima out. Ama was terrified, then, that Jackson would go back on his word and he saw it on her face. “We had an agreement, Ama. Your sister will be safe.” And for some reason, she believed him. She sat down heavily on the bed and felt exhausted. The

doctor looked at her and felt her forehead. “You’re running a temperature. Maybe I should check your wound out.” Jackson nodded. “I’ll give you ten minutes, Doc. Do whatever she needs.” He left them alone. The doctor helped her out of her dress and winced when he saw the new wounds. “I don’t have long, but I will take care of these.” He leaned in closer. “My dear, I must tell you. I ran the blood tests. There is a slight infection, but nothing that won’t be knocked out by the antibiotics. There is something else. You are pregnant, my dear.”

I NCA, still confined to a wheelchair, asked Vanni to roll her towards Enda’s study. When she got there, the two men were still locked in discussion over a map of California. They looked up as she was rolled in. “Thanks, Vanni,” Inca smiled at her nurse, who grinned and went out of the room. Inca waved a couple of photos at Enda. “Enda, these came from the fire-damaged stuff. Can you tell me where they are?” He took the old, faded, and damaged Polaroid from

her and studied it. One showed a field and trees, the sun scorched. The other a set of stepping stones across a small creek. Enda frowned. “I don’t know, Inca. Why?” “I’m thinking—is it somewhere Jackson went as a kid? The photos are old and faded, but I was just wondering if it’s somewhere Jackson feels close to, or has good memories of, he might …” She trailed off as she looked at the skepticism on their faces. “I know. I’m reaching, but, for the love of God, he has to be somewhere.” Raff went to his wife and hugged her. “Any idea is good at this stage, Bella. Sorry if we seemed a little off.” Enda nodded. “Agreed. Anything is good now. Olivier will be here soon; we’ll ask him if he can tell us anything.

TWO HOURS LATER , Olivier was nodding his head. “Yeah …this was a place our mom used to take us when she wanted to get us away from all the ‘opulence,’ as she put it, and let us be normal kids for once. She used to make us fish in the creek and hike through the hills. We always loved those days out; believe it or not, it was the one time that Jackson and I actually got along.”

Enda tried not to get too excited. He exchanged a look with Inca. “Where is it?” “Out in Fresno County, near a place called Humphrey’s Station.” Olivier finally got it. He looked between the three of them. “Really? You think he could be there?” “It’s a possibility,” Enda said. “At this moment, I’ll take any lead.” “We have some men in the area, scouring it, and I mean, practically inch-by-inch. There must be some evidence of him being there if we’re right.” Suddenly the door burst open and Vanni came in. “Mr. Gallo, please, the television …” She was breathless and half-crying. Enda flicked on the tv and they all froze. Selima Rai, tears pouring down her face, was flanked by two female police officers, begging them all to save her sister.

AMA SAT on the cool bathroom floor, her head in her hands. Pregnant. How? She had been on the pill for months now …only she had missed the last few days for obvious reasons. Did that mean the baby was Jackson’s? God …

But she couldn’t hate the little life inside her, because there was a chance, a very small chance that it could be Enda’s child. Earlier, before she knew about her pregnancy and after Selima had gone, she had come to terms with the fact that she would probably be killed soon. She accepted it. But now? She had to try and save herself and the baby. That was evident. She started as Jackson came into the suite and called her name. “In here. I’ll be out in a second.” She flushed the toilet and splashed water on her face. When she went back into the bedroom, Jackson smiled at her. “Time to watch a little T.V., darling.”

I N THE BONDAGE ROOM , where Ama deliberately didn’t look at the bed where she had been so hideously violated the night before, Jackson switched on the television. He flicked to the news channel, and when Ama saw her sister’s face, safe, with the police, she burst into tears. Thank god. Thank god … She felt Jackson put an arm around her. “Ama … from now on, we will be a happy couple. Together. Tonight, we will be flying to another place,

somewhere they will never find us. Thank you for giving me this gift, my love.” Christ, he really is insane, isn’t he? A happy couple? Play along, her subconscious told her. She looked up and smiled at him. “Thank you, Jackson. Thank you for keeping your word.” Jackson kissed her and she forced herself to respond. He pushed her dress away from her shoulders and stripped her, and Ama went along with it, kissing him passionately and freeing his cock from his pants. Clarity had come to her since the doctor told her about the baby, and she’d figured out that this room, this terrible room, was her way out of this place. That and Jackson’s arrogance. She smiled at him. “I want to taste you.” She nearly gagged on the words, but Jackson, smiling, nodded and pushed her head down to his lap. Ama took his cock into her mouth. As she teased and sucked him, she flicked her eyes around the room, taking in every chance she had to get an advantage. His rack of knives was the most obvious, but they were over on the other side of the room. Anything. Anything will do …adrenaline coursed through her body as she realized this was the moment. This was the time.

Jackson grunted and grinned down at her. “That feels so good, baby. So, good. Let me cum in your mouth…” And as he came, groaning, Ama clenched her jaw and bit down as hard as she could.

AS SOON AS Selima confirmed that they had been held somewhere near Fresno, the F.B.I. and Enda, Raffaelo, and Olivier flew out in helicopters to the place where Olivier and Jackson played as kids. Inca had wanted to come, but Raffaelo forbade it, telling her, “No way. I don’t want you within a million miles of guns and Jackson Gallo.” She had protested, but gave up when Raffaelo made it clear he was serious. “And besides,” Raffaelo told her. “Selima is being brought here. You’ll need each other if …anything goes south.” He lowered his voice so Enda couldn’t hear him. “Keep away from the news. Obviously the F.B.I. have ordered a news blackout until after the operation, but you never know.”

NOW , as he sat in the helicopter beside Enda, he could see his friend was beyond anxious. Enda jiggled his legs constantly, staring out of the

window as California passed beneath them. But Raffaelo felt optimistic for the first time in days. They had a lead. As they reached the small, isolated place called Humphrey’s Station, an F.B.I. Agent met them. “We’ve found it. It’s buried in the hillside, and we would have missed it, except that we spotted a car coming out of one of the valleys leading to it. A doctor. We picked him up, and he caved and spilled his guts to us. Mr. Gallo, your partner is being held inside. We’re concerned that there are many armed guards in there with her, as well as Jackson Gallo. We need to approach this carefully.”

E NDA COULD HAVE SCREAMED in frustration. Just go in there and get her. But he knew they were right. If Jackson were alerted to the fact they had been found, he would kill Ama and shoot his way out. Raff put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re nearly home, Enda. Stay strong.”

JACKSON SCREAMED as Ama’s teeth clamped onto his penis. Ama tasted blood, and when she saw him buckle, she released her grip and staggered back away from him, over to where he kept the knives.

In horror, she saw that a glass lid had been placed over them and locked. Fuck. Jackson was recovering now—as best as he could with only half a penis. Ama had spat him out. Now he was staring at her with murder in his eyes. But instead of being scared, Ama found herself angry. Furious. Raging. She grabbed whatever she could find and hurled it at him as he lunged at her, ducking out of his grip. She found a paddle in her hand and slammed it into his face. Jackson reeled, but just as Ama thought she might have the upper hand, Jackson grabbed a whip and caught her on her face before looping it around her neck and pulling it tight. Ama choked, twisted, and turned, trying to free herself, but her airways were cut off, and she felt unconsciousness coming. Desperate— giving into the darkness would mean certain death —she grabbed at anything she could. It was a studded harness, leather and heavy. She flung it back, again and again, hoping to catch Jackson in the eye, and when he gave a howl and the whip around her throat eased and fell to the floor, she knew she’d hit her mark. She dived across the bed and threw herself onto the glass-topped credenza, hoping her weight would smash the glass. It cracked, but didn’t break.

“You fucking bitch! I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you!” Jackson was lunging at her again, and in desperation, she plowed her elbow into the glass with all her strength. Both her elbow and the glass smashed, and despite the agonizing pain shooting up her arm, she grabbed what she could—a shard of glass—and as Jackson grabbed her, she lashed out. Jackson staggered back as Ama was covered in a mist of blood from the gushing wound in his neck. Jackson fell to the floor, his carotid bursting from the pressure of blood escaping the wound. Ama dropped to her knees, gasping for air and searching for the keys in Jackson’s pockets. He grabbed her arm. “I’ll kill you …” She shook his hand off. “Go to hell, Jackson. Which is where you’ll be in a few more seconds, I’m guessing. You’re bleeding out, idiot, and no one, no one, will mourn you.” Her anger was still ruling her as she grabbed a knife from the smashed cabinet. “This is for Selima, for Inca, and for Penny.” She slammed the knife into his chest, straight into his heart. Jackson made a gurgling noise in his throat, then his head fell to the side, his eyes staring but unseeing. Ama sat back, catching her breath. Now what? She had to find the exit, unarmed and facing god knows

how many armed guards who would shoot her in a second. She placed a hand on her belly. “Come on, little one. We’ve come this far.” She grabbed Jackson’s keys, unlocked the door, and slipped out of the room into the corridors.

E NDA WATCHED the F.B.I. and the S.W.A.T. team planning and felt a rush of irritation. He knew it wasn’t fair, but they had been there hours, and Ama was still in there, the authorities deeming it too risky to go in yet. “Why? How much more risk can it be for Ama?” But Raff calmed him down. Now it was getting dark and they were still strategizing. Fuck this. Enda ducked behind the police vehicles and ran around to where they said the entrance was, ducking behind shrubs and trees and moving stealthily in the gloom. At the entrance, he saw a guard outside, patrolling. He padded silently behind the man and took him out with a punch to the temple. The man crumpled silently. Enda grabbed his gun and cold-cocked him again just to make sure he was down. He relieved the guard of his handcuffs and bound his hands behind his back. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Enda spun around to see a furious Raff behind him. Enda sighed. “Go back, Raff. This is my battle.” “No way.” Enda shook his head. “Don’t be stupid …you and I both know this is a suicide mission. Don’t leave Inca a widow.” Raff’s face was hard. “No, just give her a coward as a husband. You go in, I go in. That’s how this is going to work.” Enda could tell Raff wouldn’t shift. “Fine. Stay behind me. We only have one weapon between us.” He unlocked the entrance door and slipped inside, Raff close behind him.

OLIVIER WAS TALKING to the F.B.I. Agent in charge, and now he looked around to bring his brother, and his friend, into the conversation. He couldn’t see them anywhere. Olivier frowned. Where the fuck were they? Then it hit him and he cursed loudly. The F.B.I. Agent looked at him, and Olivier turned his grim-set face toward him. “Yeah. We may have a problem.”

ARMED WITH A KNIFE, Ama staggered through the hallways, her ears on high alert. She had to duck into rooms she didn’t know were occupied, and more frustratingly, she seemed to be getting deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of tunnels. She paused in a dark corridor, trying to quell the rising panic. She heard two men approaching and slid back into the darkness. “What do you think he’s doing to her tonight?” The man had a mocking tone to his voice. “Don’t know, but I wouldn’t want to be that girl. He’s a sick fucking freak. If he didn’t pay so well, I’d take him out myself. Poor kid.” “Yeah, right. She looks like a whore.” “Have some respect, asshole.” Ama frowned. They hated Jackson as much as she did. Maybe they would help her …no. Don’t be stupid. You’ve just killed their money maker. When they had passed, she tracked back where they had come from and followed the hallways back past the room where Jackson lay dead, then toward the room where she and Selima were held. Something told her this was the right way. She felt a pain shooting through her—a cramp, or maybe her wound had opened up. She glanced down to see

blood soaking her bare skin, remembering she was only clad in her underwear. What a fucked-up situation. She nearly giggled, a hysterical reaction to the circumstances. “Stop right there, beautiful, or you’ll force me to put a bullet in that gorgeous body.” Ama froze. Shit. Stupid woman. You lost focus. She turned slowly to see one of the guards aiming his pistol at her. “Put the knife down, sweetheart.” She dropped the knife, raising her hands. “Where’s Jackson?” Ama swallowed. No way out now. “Dead. I killed him. So, do what you want to me. He’s dead and I’m fucking glad.” The guard looked surprised, then grinned. “Good. Then maybe I can have some fun with you before I kill you, gorgeous.” He had started to approach her when Ama heard the shot. She felt the rush of air over her head and saw the bullet hit the guard straight in the forehead. He dropped like a stone and Ama spun around …to see her love, her Enda, his gun still raised. She couldn’t believe it. Enda lowered the gun and handed it to Raff, who was smiling at her. Enda walked slowly at first, then as Ama started to run

toward him, he started to run too and swept her into his arms. Ama was sobbing now, not caring who heard them. Enda kissed her face and her hair, his voice breaking as he told her he loved her over and over. “Guys, we have to go. Now.” Raff looked apologetic, but Enda nodded. Still carrying Ama, they raced back towards the entrance. As they reached the door, shots rang out, barely missing them, and they threw themselves outside and ran. Spotlights flooded the area, then, and they blinked in the lights. Chaos ensued. F.B.I. Agents took them to safety, and soon Ama and Enda were in an ambulance racing towards Fresno and a hospital.

AT THE HOSPITAL, a doctor examined her as Enda went to call Olivier. Ama grabbed the doctor’s hand. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered,” No one knows. Can you tell how far along I am?” The doctor, a kind looking woman, smiled. “We’ll run some tests. Discreetly,” she added. “In the meantime, you’re going to need a minor surgery to help you heal.”

L ATER , Enda came back, and they enjoyed some alone time, finally. Enda hugged her tightly. “God, to think I nearly lost you.” Ama relaxed into his arms. “It’s over now, baby. We can be happy.” “Damn right.” They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Ama looked at him, her eyes serious. “I killed Jackson. Your brother.” “Half-brother. And fuck him. The world’s a better place.” “Do you think Olivier thinks so?” Enda swept her hair away from her face. “Cara mia, Olivier loves you. You did what you had to do to survive. He knows you did the right thing.” “He’s grieving, though?” Enda nodded. “Just for the idea of a brother, rather than Jackson, I think. But believe me, he’s onehundred percent behind you.” Ama sighed. “I can’t wait to get out of here.” “The minute we do, I’m marrying you.” Ama laughed. “Well, you’d better.”

“Knock, knock.” It was the doctor from earlier, who smiled at her. “We’ve run the tests.” Ama felt her heartbeat quicken. “How many?” Months, she asked silently, and the doctor nodded. “Three.” And she grinned. Ama burst into tears, smiling through them. Enda was utterly confused. “What’s going on?” The doctor smiled again and left the room, closing the door behind her. Ama couldn’t speak from relief and joy, but finally, when Enda was starting to look worried, she held his face in her hands, her eyes shining, and told him that in six months, he was going to be a father and their life as a family could really begin

THE E ND

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ROCKSTAR UNTAMED A SINGLE DAD AND A VIRGIN ROMANCE

Rockstar Bodhi Creed is blindsided when his exgirlfriend, Gemma, turns up with a six-year-old son, Tim, and tells Bodhi that it’s his turn to play house with his son. Completely out of his depth, he nonethe-less tries his best to juggle his superstar career with his paternal duties, but his son is reluctant to bond with him. Sailor King is working as an assistant to a Hollywood agent, Maurice Winston, unhappily. Her boss is a leach and a creep, and the day he gropes her, she retaliates by slapping him. To her horror, the incident is witnessed by the incredulous Bodhi, who, to her surprise, backs her up and fires Maurice as his agent. Maurice vows to destroy Bodhi’s career and tells Sailor she’ll never work in

Hollywood again. She shoots back that that would suit her fine. Bodhi tells them both Sailor has already got herself hired by him. Sailor starts her new job as Bodhi’s assistant, but soon gravitates to caring for Tim, with whom she finds common ground. Both were the product of a one-night stand and both lead confusing childhoods. But Sailor hides a bigger secret; less than a year ago, she escaped from a cult in which she had been raised and still carries the scars of that experience with her. She is still freaked out by the concept of freedom, but also chaffs against any kind of control. Looking after Tim gives her a sense of stability and under her care, the boy starts to thrive. Bodhi, whose reputation as a man-whore is wellknown, is grateful to the young woman and is drawn to her, but Sailor keeps him at a distance. He doesn’t blame her, he revels in his promiscuity, but he also makes the decision to spend more time with Tim, and by extension, Sailor. Soon, the two of them begin to be more than friends and when their relationship goes to the next level; Sailor confides her past to him as well as one more surprising revelation: she is a virgin.

C

hicago, Illinois January

Bodhi Creed breathed in the scent of the crowd; sweat, excitement, almost frenzied adoration. He stood at the front of the stage, taking in the love of his fans as he finished his song, putting everything into the final few chords. His voice soaring and dipping with perfect pitch. He knew he could make people shiver with the sound of his voice. He finished the song and took his final bow, taking his time to wave to the crowd as he left the stage, his whole system flooding with adrenaline. Who needed drugs when performing could make you feel like this? He grinned to his crew and his band as he walked back to his dressing room, thanking each of them personally. There was a reason people loved Bodhi Creed. It wasn’t just that he had pulled himself out of a hellish path from a drug-fueled death during his early career or that his face could sell anything as much as his singing voice. It was that he was genuinely a humble man, offstage and on. He had his demons, what rock god didn’t? But now, nearing forty, he still appealed to fans of all ages. Bodhi walked back to his dressing room, pushed

the door open and almost choked. Poppy, his personal assistant of two months, had been ‘cleansing’ his space again, burning sage and wafting it around the windowless room. She grinned at him. “Hey, boss.” She had bright pink hair, tattoos up and down her arms, and wore clothes that would make a fetishist blush. She looked like a real rock goddess, Bodhi smiled fondly at her more than he ever did. God, he was tired. This had been the last date of the tour that had lasted well over a year, and he was exhausted, drained, ready for some down time. Bodhi knew himself, it was times like these he would have, back in the day, reached for the bottle or the white stuff. The thought of cocaine now made him feel sick. Jimi Hendrix, Layne Staley, Scott Weiland, Shannon Hoon, he used their names as a mantra to stay away from drugs now, even when he was depressed. Now as he ran his hand through his dark curls and slumped down onto the sofa, a cold soda in hand, he looked for respite in other ways. His good friend, Claudio Fonseca, an artist, had invited him to go stay at his farmhouse in the Tuscan hills for the summer, picking olives and chilling out. Bodhi couldn’t wait. Two months of Italian sun, wine, food and relaxation in the company of good friends.

He could see his mom at her home in Florence. Bodhi longed to go back to Italy. His American father had brought the family over to America just after Bodhi had been born, and growing up in Seattle, Bodhi had longed to know the place he had come from. When his dad died, his mom sold her house and went back, begging Bodhi to go with her. But by then, he was a star, and he needed to be in Los Angeles for his career. He looked up as the door opened and Franklin, the theater manager, stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, Bodhi, but there’s a kid out here to see you.” Bodhi was surprised. A kid? Usually, his groupies were nubile young women. “Show them in, please. Thanks, Frank.” He always, always took the time to talk with his fans, despite how tired he was, without them, he was nothing. A kid with dark curls, not older than ten, pushed shyly into the room, and Bodhi got up to greet him. “Hey there, what’s your name, kiddo?” The kid blinked his huge green eyes up at Bodhi, seeming dumbstruck. Bodhi didn’t see the woman who had entered behind the child until she spoke softly.

“His name is Tim, Bodhi.” Bodhi, recognizing the voice immediately, looked up, and a shock ran through him. “Gemma?” The blonde woman smiled at him. “Been a long time, hasn’t it?” Bodhi stared at her, still stunned to see his former lover. She was Bodhi’s senior by five years, had not dulled her beauty, but there was a haunted, desperate look in her eyes. “Must be about ten yea…” Bodhi broke off, realization dawning, and he gazed down at the young boy standing between them. Dark hair, bright green eyes. Bodhi’s eyes. There really was no question. Gemma looked at him, her eyes filling with tears as she watched him put the pieces together. “I’m sorry to do this to you, Bodhi…I really am. But I’m not doing so well. I need to go away for a while, alone. And I thought it’s time. It’s time for Tim to know his daddy.” Bodhi’s whole body felt as if he’d been hit by a sledgehammer as he gazed down into the face of his son.

M IAMI, Florida Sailor King followed her minder through the mall. It was cool, almost chilly, inside the spacious building, but Sailor didn’t mind. Even January in Florida was too hot for her. Her dark hair stuck to her forehead and to the back of her neck. Monica, her minder, gave her an annoyed look. “What’s wrong with you today? You know Bartholomew will punish me if we’re more than two hours. We haven’t even found your wedding dress yet.” Sailor stared back at Monica blankly. She felt so tired lately, so hopeless that she had stopped taking the anti-depressant tablets they had given her all her life, and now she felt as if her brain would go mad. She didn’t want this, didn’t want to be married to a man more than twice her age. She knew within the ranks of the organization that she was ‘lucky.' Other girls were clamoring to be partnered with Bart Foy, their leader, their captain. But Bart had chosen her. She had known the unease of his lascivious gaze on her body; her curves, her flat belly, her full breasts since she was a teenager. He had held her face in his hands when she was just fourteen, an entire decade ago. It had been decreed, she would be his new wife when she reached the age of womanhood, in their ideology, it

would be her twenty-fifth birthday, which was in a few weeks. Bart Foy had been married twice before. His first wife was Tamsin, about whom nobody knew much. They had been married before Bart formed the ‘Children of Love’ commune, deep in the Florida Everglades. His wife had left him after refusing to join him in his ‘mission.’ Bart’s second wife, Clotilde, was a beautiful, loving, Frenchwoman with dark brown hair tumbling down her back and a sweet nature. She had joined the group as a teacher for the children and Sailor had been one of her wards. She had been particularly close to Clotilde, Tilly to those who loved her, and when, one shocking, horrific night, Tilly had been found dead, Sailor had been devastated. Bart made them all walk past Tilly’s body, laid out on the shrine in their temple. “I want you to look, children. Look what sin can bring.” Sailor had always wondered what he meant. When she found out, from hushed whispers in the schoolyard, that Tilly had been having an affair with another man, and that she had been stabbed to death, at around eleven, Sailor knew what that meant. The terror when Bart had chosen her for his next wife had been all-encompassing, but she had buried

her head in the sand, thinking the day would never come. Then three months ago, he had summoned her. “My dearest Sailor, your womanhood is fast approaching, and to me, it seems the perfect time for us to become one. Your birthday will serve as our wedding day, do you understand?” She nodded, the fear inside overwhelming her ability to speak. Bart smiled and touched her cheek. “Good. Now, I’m afraid we have to deal with a little unpleasantness before you go. As you know, I take my role here very seriously, and in choosing you as my wife, I need you to be an ambassador for us all.” He paused, studying her. “You were very close to Clotilde, I know. She betrayed all of us, Sailor. All of us. Her punishment…well…” He picked up a folder and handed it to her. “I’m going to leave you alone here for a few minutes to study what’s in that folder. When I return, this matter will be closed. This is what happens when my women betray me, Sailor, understand? That’s the only reason why I’m showing you these photographs.” Sailor nodded again. “Good girl. I’ll leave you alone.” He left his office and Sailor heard the lock being

clicked from outside. She opened the folder, feeling nausea rise up in her, and a small moan of despair escaped her as she looked at the first photograph. Tilly looked terrified as the two men in the picture held her down, obviously making sure the photographer got a good shot of her. The next photograph made Sailor cry out. The knife was buried deep in Tilly’s stomach, and her face was contorted in agony. Sailor was trembling as she looked through every photograph of Tilly’s murder, each one more stark and brutal than the last. The last image broke Sailor and she whimpered in despair. There was another man now, strapped down to a chair, gagged and bound, his face contorted with grief as he gazed down at his dead sweetheart’s body. Tilly’s lover. They’d made him watch while they killed her. Sailor started to cry. Bart’s meaning was obvious. Step out of line and you die. It was at that moment that Sailor knew she had to risk everything and escape the only life she had ever known.

MONICA WAS CHATTING with the saleswoman in the wedding shop. She was used to Monica and Sailor coming now, Sailor had deliberately been picky over her choice, giving herself time to check out

the fitting rooms, and any potential escape routes. She’d nearly been foiled by Monica insisting on accompanying her to the fitting rooms. Sailor had used her only weapon, she was Bart’s chosen one. “I don’t think,” she’d told Monica knowingly, “that Bart would be too pleased that you laid eyes on my body before the wedding. I am his, Monica, and his alone.” Her implied threat hit the mark, and Monica let her change alone. Sailor was careful, never taking too long between changes to reappear but still, she managed to figure out the layout of the store. Now, she could barely wait. Careful. Careful. She took her time choosing then took the dress with her. It was a huge, completely inappropriate choice, layers and layers of tulle that she would never wear in a million years, but Sailor knew what she was doing. The shirt she was wearing today was too big, plaid and her combat pants. In the many pockets, she had stashed the money she had been saving for the last three months, squirreled away and stolen from the commune’s money cache, a little at a time. Her birth certificate, with only her mother identified on it, and social security number, and any other thing she found in Bart’s office that terrible day, that she could use. She even had a small penknife, tucked in the back pocket of her pants. In all, she only had a couple of hundred dollars, but it

was enough for a bus ticket. After that, she’d figure something out. Monica didn’t even blink as Sailor walked toward the fitting rooms, calling back to her, “I won’t be a sec.”

MONICA SMIRKED . That atrocity that Sailor was carrying would take more than a ‘sec’ to change into. Stupid little whore. Lording it over her like she was some special kind of shit. Look how that worked out for Tilly, bitch. She turned back to the saleswoman, who knew all about the commune, all about Bart’s proclivities. Monica had told her all about them one night in bed. The girl, Bettina, had been a good, inexperienced, lay and Monica wouldn’t mind another go around. The alarm started screeching through the shop, and both women said. “What the fuck?” “The fire escape door,” Bettina looked terrified as Monica cursed loudly and drew out a blade, darting towards the fitting rooms. “Fucking bitch…” She saw the fire escape door standing wide open, and the wedding dress dumped in the doorway. “Fucking whore bitch cunt!” Monica screamed, racing down the corridor and

around the corner towards the exit, Bettina close behind her. They both trod on the dress in their eagerness to get out, but Sailor had ripped the tulle to shreds, and their feet got caught, tangled, and they both fell. Bettina shrieked as Monica’s knife came way too close to her neck. “Shut up, you stupid bitch,” Monica sliced away at the fabric, trying to free them. Out of the fire escape, they could see the parking lot, and Monica raked it with her eyes, trying to spot Sailor.

SAILOR DROPPED from the top of the fitting room wall and slid silently into the main room. Inspiration striking, she went to the register, hoping against hope that some rich musketry-muck had paid with cash. She was in luck. She scooped a wad of twenties out of the register, raking every note and coin in there into her pocket. Listening intently to make sure she could still hear Monica cursing away in the back, she quickly took stock and grabbed the wigs from the mannequins in the window. In a highend store like this, they used real human hair wigs, and she could use them to disguise herself and then sell them. She stuffed them all into a plastic bag and then she was free. Running to the exit of the mall and out into the Florida sunshine, she flagged down a cab and asked the driver to take her to the bus

station. In a half-hour, she was on the bus, hunched down, hiding…

AND BREATHING freely for the first time in her young life.

L OS ANG ELES, six months later… Bodhi ate a piece of toast half-heartedly as he watched his son push his cereal around his bowl. “Kiddo, that will get all mushy if you do that.” “I like it mushy.” Bodhi sighed. Well, at least Tim was speaking to him now. “Okay, then.” Tim glanced at his father briefly, then looked away when Bodhi met his gaze. “Can I go to school now?” Bodhi nodded, not knowing what else to do. Since, Gemma had left Tim with him, this had been their routine. Tim, thankfully, had settled into his new school happily, but at home… At home, Bodhi thought, bitterly, it’s been a Cold War. Tim hadn’t taken to him at all. He was rude, silent, and resentful. Bodhi knew Tim blamed him

for his mother leaving him, but Bodhi had no idea what else to do. Poppy, his assistant, had suddenly quit, telling him she was sorry but looking after a kid hadn’t been in the job description. “It’s just not my jam, Bodhi, I’m sorry.” Since then, Tim had seen off two childminders and one English tutor. Bodhi had canceled gigs, interviews, recording sessions to try and bond with his son, but nothing was working. Tim was vastly unimpressed with his father’s musical friends, couldn’t care less about the instruments Bodhi played. Even the priceless grand piano in the living room held no interest. Tim kept to his room, his vast-well-stocked-with-everything-a-boy-couldneed room, and didn’t even explore the pool or the grounds of Bodhi’s luxurious Hollywood Hills mansion. Bodhi got into the driver’s seat of his RAV4 and they began another silent drive to Tim’s school. Gemma had insisted that Tim had the best education and Bodhi, ignoring the fact she was making demands while asking an enormous favor, agreed. God, he would do anything for his son. He knew that the moment Gemma had brought Tim into his life. He just wished he could feel like anything but a deadbeat dad. , “Hey, kiddo? What say we go shopping for a new

laptop for you this weekend?” Tim looked at him with those huge green eyes even wider. “Really?” “Really.” “Thank you, Bodhi.” Progress, although he wished Tim would call him Dad. Deciding not to push it and ruin the moment, he just smiled at Tim and was rewarded by a slight smile. “That one you have is ancient; I’m surprised you can still use it.” Tim’s smile disappeared, and he looked away from his father. “Evan brought me that laptop before he went away.” Ah, the sainted Evan. Bodhi sighed. When Tim talked at all about his life before Bodhi, it was about his former stepfather Evan. Evan Teal was a detective up in Portland, and to hear Tim talk, the most amazing man he’d ever met. Evan had practically raised Tim from birth so Bodhi couldn’t help, but be grateful. He just wished and hoped that Teal had some faults, so that he wouldn’t feel such like a loser. When Evan and Gemma had split up, Tim had been devastated. And now Bodhi had insulted Evan’s final gift to Tim. Bodhi opened his mouth to apologize but closed it

again. Why bother? He dropped Tim off at school, barely receiving a “Bye.” He checked his watch and drove into the center of L.A. to his agent’s office. Maurice had summoned him, obviously trying to get him back in the game after six months away. Bodhi’s little sabbatical wasn’t making Maurice his fifteen percent, and he was getting antsy about it. Maybe it is time I got back to work, Bodhi thought now as he steered his way into a parking space. I’m sure not doing anything helpful at home. He sighed and got out of the car, and opened the office door.

SAILOR GRITTED HER TEETH , for the fourth time that morning, Maurice Winston leaned across her, pressing his sweaty body against hers. “I’ll move,” she said disdainfully, pushing back her chair, so it rammed him in the ankle. She had worked for Maurice for three months, and if she hadn’t been desperate for money, and eager to hide out in her little apartment, she would have quit the day after she started. Maurice Winston was a leach, a man who clearly saw his assistant as his property. When he wasn’t making gross suggestions to her, he was outright

rude, criticizing her at every turn, even though Sailor ran his office like a tight ship. Her past, the rules, the chores of the commune had left her with one good thing; she was organized, efficient, punctual and she knew Maurice knew it too. But the harassment he gave her every day, was it worth it? She had been searching out other job opportunities, but it seemed the rest of L.A. wasn’t hiring just yet. She had no choice to put up with his behavior. Escaping the clutches of the ‘Children of Love’ had only been the start of her tumultuous new life. Getting off the bus in L.A. after traveling for days, she had checked herself into a small motel and after a hot shower, a night’s sleep and vending machine food, she had taken stock. The money she had stolen was enough that she could manage for a month or so. She had no remorse about taking it, either. She checked the Miami local news on a computer at the local library. The robbery and her disappearance were never mentioned. No, because I know too much, hey, Bart? I know about Tilly. What you did to her. Even now, the thought of Bart’s anger scared her. She knew he would try to find her and if he did, she was a dead woman. She had constant nightmares about him stabbing her to death. But as time went

on, she began to relax into her new life. She found a studio flat close to Maurice’s office, and although it was tiny, she loved it. She began to make it her own with books, records, and flowers on every surface. She even loved the small kitchen and began to teach herself how to cook. After work each night, she would come home, change out of her work clothes into sweats and eat, watch TV, play music or read. And she loved every moment. It was hers and hers alone.

MAURICE WAS READING A LETTER , oblivious to Sailor’s annoyance. She sat back down in her chair and started to go through emails, occasionally mentioning important notes to him. He grunted as if he wasn’t listening properly and Sailor rolled her eyes. It would mean her staying late and making a cheat sheet of everything he needed to know. Asshole. She was so engrossed in her work that she failed to notice he had put down the letter and was standing too close behind her. Sailor stood to go grab a photocopy and Maurice pounced. He swept a foot under hers and Sailor lost balance, falling into Maurice’s clutches. He tumbled her to the couch and began to kiss her. Sailor struggled,

panicking, angry and terrified. “Get the fuck off me!” Maurice grinned. “Come on now, Sailor, you know this has been coming for a while. Don’t fight it. I know you want me.” Sailor pounded his chests with her fists. “Let me go, cocksucker! Get off me!” Maurice, still grinning, pushed her skirt up to her hips. “Come on, lovely girl, show me that sweet cunt of yours.” Sailor lost it then, and drawing back her arm, she punched Maurice in the eye, her ring tearing a piece of flesh from below his eyebrow. He rocked back, roaring in pain. “Fucking bitch!” Sailor scrambled away from him, but he grabbed her ankle and pulled her back. “I’ll fucking kill you, you little whore.” “Join the fucking queue, asshole,” Sailor hissed and rammed her foot into his groin, hard. Maurice screamed and doubled over, and Sailor skittered away from him. “I quit, you monster. And believe me, I’m going to the police and the press. You don’t ever get to put your hands on me again, motherfucker!” She was raging now, every ounce of hurt in her life coming back to her, and releasing

through her anger and hurt. “Who the fuck, do you think you are touching me like that?” Maurice smiled nastily. “More than you’ll ever be in this town, cunt. How are you this naïve? Did you really think I hired you for your typing skills? No, Princess, it was because I wanted to fuck you and I always get what I want.” He lunged for her again and got his hands around her throat, choking her as she tried to scream, struggling to pull his hands away. Maurice kicked her legs apart and tore her panties from her, and then she heard his belt loosen, his fly open. Oh god, no, please, not like this… She twisted away from him, and his hands loosened enough for her to scream at the top of her lungs. Maurice’s body weight was heavy on her, and she knew that he had the upper hand. and shock, hauled Maurice off her and threw him across the room. Maurice was short, the other was a giant, and Maurice was no match. “What the fuck, do you think you’re doing?” He roared at Maurice who was trying to stand up. Her savior held out his hands to Sailor and, gratefully, she took them, her whole body trembling. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Sailor gazed into the man’s huge green eyes, seeing only empathy, and she shook her head. He put his arm gently around her shoulders. “It’s okay, lovely, I won’t let him near you again. You…,” he turned back to Maurice. “You’re so fucking fired, Maurice. How dare you behave like this?” Maurice was straightening up his clothes. “Oh, fuck off, Bodhi, it was just a little fun.” Bodhi’s face was a picture of utter disgust and rage. “A little fun? Fun? When a woman is screaming like that, that’s not fun, Maurice, that’s rape.” He turned his beautiful eyes back to Sailor. “Honey, what’s your name?” “Sailor.” A whisper, her throat raw from being choked. Bodhi swept a gentle hand over her cheek, brushing away her tears. “Sailor, sweetheart, we need to go to the police. I’ll back you one hundred percent.” “Now wait a minute…” “Shut the fuck up, Maurice. Now.” A lion’s roar. Maurice shut the fuck up. Bodhi steered Sailor into a chair and pulled out his phone, but Sailor put her hand over it and shook her head. Bodhi frowned. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, meeting his gaze. Even through her teary eyes, her shock was slowly turning to numbness, she was enthralled with this man’s beauty, his grace, his kindness. She wanted to close her eyes and lean into him and sleep with his arms around her. She sighed. “I just want to go,” she said softly. Bodhi touched her cheek. “Then we’ll go. Maurice, you’re a lucky man that Sailor doesn’t want to press charges, but as from this moment, you are no longer my agent.” Maurice seemed to realize that his biggest cash cow was on the way out of the door. “Now, wait, Bodhi, there’s no need…” Bodhi turned his furious eyes on the other man. “There is every need, asshole.” Maurice smiled nastily. “Then you should know, I’ll do everything in my power to finish you in this town. Everything.” “Go right ahead,” Bodhi said calmly. “Try it. See how far you’ll get.” He took Sailor’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, sweetie, get your things and we’ll get out of here.” Sailor nodded and quickly grabbed her purse and a few personal items from her desk. Maurice watched

her. “I don’t even need to tell you that you’ll never work in this town again, you little bitch.” Bodhi stepped up to Maurice and punched him across the room. “You don’t ever talk to her or any other woman like that again, motherfucker. You’re lucky Sailor doesn’t want the police involved, but believe me, I hear of anything else like this, and I’ll call your wife and her billionaire daddy. And by the way, if a check for three, no, six, six months severance pay for Sailor isn’t in the mail by tomorrow, I will go the police. So, go fuck yourself.” He looked at Sailor, watching him, waiting by the door and he smiled the most beautiful smile at her. Sailor felt her stomach flutter. “Besides,” Bodhi continued, “you’re so wrong. Sailor already has another job. If she agrees, she’ll be working for me and twice at the salary. Not only that, but I will make sure every employer in town knows and respects her. Think about that, Maurice.” He stalked over to Sailor and offered her his hand. “Ready to go, lovely?” Sailor smiled and took his hand.

I N B ODHI’ S CAR , Sailor finally stopped her hands trembling. She looked at the man beside her. Bodhi Creed, she’d heard of him, of course, he was her boss’s, scratch that, ex-boss's – biggest client and yet she hadn’t met or even spoken to him before today. His magnetism was a powerful thing, even just sitting beside him, she couldn’t help wonder at his incredible physical beauty. Swarthy skin, stubble, dark curls flopping around his head. And those eyes, god, she could get lost in them. She pulled herself up sharply. Do not get a crush. “Thank you for what you did back there, Mr. Creed. I can never repay you.” He turned and smiled at her. “It’s Bodhi, and there’s nothing to repay. Are you feeling okay now?” She nodded. “I am, thank you. Where are we going?” Bodhi blinked. “I was just heading home. Automatic, you know? Would you feel more comfortable going somewhere public? I thought I would make you some lunch.” A rock god making her lunch? Was this happening? He was so…normal. So, down to earth. “You really don’t have to.”

Bodhi grinned. “Full disclosure. I like making food for people, I enjoy the company. How about if I ask instead of assuming? Sailor, would you like to have lunch with me?” And Sailor knew without a doubt that she most definitely would.

SAILOR GROANED and put her hand on her belly. Bodhi Creed knew how to cook. “I think you may have killed me.” She grinned at him. “That was incredible, thank you. I won’t need to eat for a few…weeks, I think.” Bodhi laughed, spearing the last piece of his steak into his mouth. A blue cheese and steak salad was his specialty. Throw in freshly baked bread, that he admitted he’d got from the store, fresh, plump peaches and a light Pinot Grigio. Sailor was in heaven. “Sure I can’t tempt you with some gelato or anything?” “God,” Sailor said, “I love gelato, but even my pudding stomach is full.” “Your pudding stomach?” Bodhi laughed loudly, and Sailor grinned at him. “Yeah, you know, when you’re so full of savory stuff, but then someone offers you sugar and all

bets are off?” “Except today. Pudding stomach is out of action?” “Yes, sir.” Bodhi chuckled. “If my mom was here, you’d been talked into it. She’s been making gelato since I was a kid, before that even. Family recipe.” “Your mom’s Italian?” “She is. An artist. She lives in Florence, and I don’t get to see her as often as I would like. She would like you, Sailor. She hates women who pick at their food. So, do I. One of life’s great pleasures, food.” “Especially if it’s made by a rockstar,” Sailor grinned and, laughing, he toasted her with his glass. They were sitting out on his patio, looking over the hills at Los Angeles in the distance. His huge infinity pool shone bright blue and a small breeze took some of the afternoon heat off. Sailor studied her host. “Do you live here alone?” Bodhi shook his head. “No, my son is here with me at the moment. He’s ten, well, only just. His name is Tim.” He reached into his pocket for his wallet, then pulled out a photograph to show Sailor. She studied it. “Adorable. He is your twin,” she said, nodding.

“In looks only, I’m afraid,” Bodhi smiled a little sadly. “While his old Pa is an exhibitionist and a show-off, Tim is definitely erring on the side of science. Not that it’s a bad thing. He could run rings around me, and frequently does.” Bodhi gazed out at the view for a long moment. “I didn’t know him, or even that he existed until six months ago. His mother, Gemma, was my girlfriend a decade ago, but we hadn’t seen or spoken for that long. She came to me, she needed some alone time and that it was my turn to raise my son.” He looked at Sailor and gave a hopeless shrug. “I have no idea what I’m doing, Sailor. None. And Tim…Tim resents me.” Sailor was startled at his frankness, but touched that he opened up to her. Two hours ago, they were strangers. “I think you’re probably doing better than you think, Bodhi. It has to be hard; there’s no owner’s manual when it comes to kids.” With a pang, she thought back to how she was raised, there, in the cult, there was definitely an owner’s manual, and it was one of subjugation, terror, and manipulation. “Sailor? You okay?” Sailor realized she was frowning and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Stuck in a memory.”

“Bad childhood?” “Something like that.” But she didn’t want to ruin the mood by telling him anything, besides, she’d promised herself she would never tell anyone. If word got back to Bart where she was… “I meant what I said about hiring you, Sailor. I do need a personal assistant, desperately actually. It would involve some childcare, if that doesn’t freak you out, but you’d be mostly working from here with me or traveling with me.” Sailor suddenly felt shy. Being that close to this man all the time sounded like heaven. “I would work my ass off for you, Bodhi, I admit, but I wouldn’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your kindness. You’ve already done more for me in the few hours I’ve known you than anyone else in my lifetime.” Bodhi’s eyes were troubled. “That’s just plain wrong. Sailor, I’m just glad I was there, you don’t owe me anything. But, seriously, please, give me a shot. I’ll pay double, hell, triple what Winston was paying you. I know you ran interference with Winston and I when I was on sabbatical.” She started to protest, and he grinned. “Don’t give me that, I know it was you. The kind emails about me taking as long as I needed, that was all you.”

Sailor was bright-red now. “I know what it’s like to have personal stuff going on. Sometimes, you just need to get away.” Bodhi picked up the bottle of wine and dumped the rest in her glass. “Amen to that, sister. So…yes?” He raised his glass and Sailor picked hers up. “Yes,” she said simply and tapped her glass against his.

HE DROVE her home before he went to pick up Tim from school. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow just after nine a.m.,” he said, “and we’ll lease you a car as soon as we can. How does that sound?” She smiled at him. “Sounds great, thank you, Bodhi. And thank you for lunch, for the job…for saving me this morning. I hope I can repay your kindness.” Bodhi touched his finger to her cheek. “You just stay safe, little one. Maurice doesn’t know where you live, does he?” She shook her head. “No, thank god. I’ll be fine. See you in the morning.” “Goodnight, Sailor.”

HE WATCHED her walk up the stairs to her apartment and wave at him as she opened the door. He smiled and waved back before pulling the car back into traffic. Sailor King. When he’d opened the door to Maurice’s office that morning and saw her being attacked, his anger had known no bounds. She was so tiny, so fragile, of course, his instincts had kicked in. In a way, he was relieved to be free of Maurice Winston. He’d never liked the man, but he was the best agent in Hollywood. Screw it. Why did he even need an agent? He was a musician, for crissakes. He had a contact in San Francisco, Emily Moore, who had given him her card at a concert the year before and told him to call if he needed representation. Emily was gorgeous too, but completely in love with her boyfriend, Dash Hamilton, one of the partners in the Quartet record company. Quartet had been pursuing him too, knowing his contract with Sony was almost up. Maybe it’s time for a complete change, he thought. Maybe things should slow down. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough money, just three months ago, Forbes had placed his net worth just shy of a billion dollars. But some things were worth more than wealth, hell, a lot of things, Bodhi told himself. His son, first and foremost. He had to try and find a way to get through to Tim. Whether Tim realized it or not,

Bodhi had grown to love him, it was just, at this moment, he didn’t know whether he liked him. A new life. A new assistant. A new friend. Sailor. Bodhi laughed and shook his head. How quickly life changes. Of course, he was a man, and her fragile beauty hadn’t passed him by. The long waves of her dark brown hair that almost reached her waist, those big dark eyes, the pink flush of her cheeks, and her smile was breathtaking. Finally, after the trauma of her near-rape, he’d made her laugh at lunch, and her smile had made his day. It lit up her face. She was young, too young for that sort of crap to happen to her. And she’s probably too young for you, buddy, so keep your thoughts pure. With a sigh, Bodhi knew the truth of that. If he wanted to keep Sailor in his life, he would have to be professional, keep his more erotic thoughts to himself. She deserved that much from him. At dinner, he told Tim about his new assistant, but Tim just shrugged and said “Okay.” Bodhi wondered if the kid cared less about who was in his life. “Hey, how about we go to the beach this weekend? Have you ever been to Venice Beach?” “Evan used to take me all the time.”

Of course, Bodhi was really starting to dislike this ‘Evan.’ “Okay then, how about to the Caribbean? I have a friend with a place on an island down there.” Tim’s eyes opened wide, and Bodhi felt a rush of joy. Finally, Tim was impressed. “For reals?” “For reals. We can go on Friday after school, come back Sunday. What do you say?” Tim studied his father and Bodhi, for the millionth time, wondered what was going on in his head. “Okay.” Bodhi smiled. He wanted to say more, suggest other things they could do, but he didn’t want to push his luck. This was enough…for now.

“TH E C ARIBBEAN ?” Sailor gaped at him as Bodhi laughed at her expression, the next morning. “That’s right. Want to come? All expenses paid, of course.” Sailor sat back in the passenger seat, shaking her head in disbelief. “Twenty-four hours ago, we didn’t even know each other, and you saved me from being raped, or murdered, hired me at a wildly generous salary, and offered me a dream vacation

to a tropical island? This isn’t real.” Bodhi grinned. “Listen, if it freaks you out, just think of it as a working trip. I need to figure out what to do going forward and I need you to help me.” “On a tropical island.” She repeated, then laughed. “Well…I’d love to, but I don’t have a passport.” Bodhi’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t?” “Uh-ah.” Sailor shook her head, her smile fading. Bodhi studied her for a long moment then turned back to the road. “Okay…well, we could get that arranged by Friday, no problem. You have a birth certificate, right?” Sailor nodded. She’d stolen it from Bart’s cabinet the day he’d left her alone in his office, along with anything she could find with her name on. When she’d arrived in L.A., she’d gone to City Hall to legally change her name from the near uniquesounding Sailor King to the more generic Sarah Halls. At least then, she could use that name legally, but finding it hard to call herself ‘Sarah,' she told people her nickname was Sailor, figuring it was safe enough to do so. “Have you never traveled, Sailor?”

She blinked back in the present and shook her head. “No, never. Never been on a plane, never gone anywhere.” Bodhi looked amazed but then smiled. “Then it’s decided. It’s outrageous you’ve never traveled. Particularly with a name like Sailor. We’ll get your passport arranged and you can come with us. Okay?” Sailor hesitated then nodded. “Okay…thank you, Bodhi.” She gave a short laugh. “I am dreaming, I’m sure.”

L ATER THAT DAY, after they’d spent all day talking about what Bodhi would be looking for in an assistant, and Sailor getting very excited for the challenge, she rode in the car with him as Bodhi picked Tim up from school and introduced him to Sailor. Sailor grinned at the young boy. “Hey, it’s good to meet you.” She indicated a patch on his jacket of a rooster spewing fire. “Hey, you like Rhett and Link?” Tim looked amazed that a grown-up would know who Rhett and Link were and nodded, half smiling at her. “Today we’re going to eat hair gel flavored ice cream.”

Sailor grinned, knowing he wanted her to give the catchphrase of the two Internet comedians. “Let’s talk about that,” she quipped back, and Tim laughed delightedly. Bodhi looked between them. “I have no idea what either of you is talking about.” Sailor rolled her eyes and winked at Tim. “Granddad,” she said in a stage whisper, making Tim giggle. Bodhi grinned at the sound, and then looked gratefully at Sailor. “Sailor’s just agreed to come to the island with us on Friday, that okay with you, buddy?” Tim actually smiled at his father, a rare occurrence, and nodded eagerly. Bodhi held his hands up to Sailor. “See? Now you have to come.”

W HEN TIM HAD FINALLY BEEN PERSUADED to go to bed, Bodhi poured Sailor and himself some wine. “Girl, how the hell did you do that? He’s talked more this evening than in the last six months.” He sat down, shaking his head in amazement and a little sadness and Sailor’s heart went out to him. All day, she had been finding out that this megastar, this world-famous billionaire, was nothing more than a simple man at heart. His glorious face, his

hard body, his rough velvet voice had made his fortune, but she could see that he craved a simpler life, one out of the spotlight. He’d shown her around his home, and she’d noticed the rooms he got most excited about were the ones where he created things, his recording studio, his workshop where he made beautiful hand-turned furniture ‘to relax.' He told her about the olive groves in Tuscany where he loved to spend summers, away from public view, with his friends, his best friend Claudio, and Bodhi’s artist mom. She looked through some pencil sketches, and her heart hurt when she saw the preliminary drawings he’d made of his son. “These are gorgeous, Bodhi.” He looked pleased, giving her a shy grin. “You draw?” She nodded. “Some. Not as good as this, and I haven’t done anything for a while. Out of practice.” “You are more than welcome to come in here, use anything you want, anytime.” Bodhi leaned back against the wall, studying her. “Sailor, I’ve been talking about myself all day, all ego. What about you, what’s your story?” Sailor felt panicky, and she looked away from his gaze. “Not much to tell. Left a bad situation at

home, come to Hollywood six months ago. Don’t even know why I chose to settle here…it just seemed…far enough away.” Bodhi nodded. “Family stuff? Or boyfriend?” Sailor chewed her lip. “Just…stuff.” God, she should have figured out a story by now. It was just, in this town, people rarely cared about who you were or had been. They just needed to know if you could be useful to them. She decided to go with a potted version of the truth. “I was raised in a commune of sorts…I never knew who my father was. I was with my mom as a newborn, but she died soon after. I was alone. So, when I got older and decided the commune’s rules and regulations were no longer for me, I left and came here.” Bodhi seemed satisfied with that answer. “Shame you never knew your parents. No wonder you can relate to Tim.” Sailor smiled gently. “Tim knows both his parents, they’re just apart. Can I ask? Why did things with Gemma never work out?” Bodhi sat down next to her. “Sailor, I was in my late twenties, and my career was maybe at its peak. Temptation was everywhere. I cheated, is the truth of it. A lot. Gemma deserved better. That’s why I can’t be mad that she never told me about Tim. I

just can’t be mad.” “But you are?” Bodhi nodded slowly. “A little. Mostly at myself for being a loser.” Sailor was silent for a moment, studying him. He looked tired, his beautiful eyes had dark circles underneath, his whole body slumped. Sailor resisted the temptation to hug him or to smooth his dark curls away from his face. He was her boss after all, no matter how friendly and inclusive he was. “What do you want, Bodhi? Out of life, I mean. You have every material thing a person could need; you have your son back in your life. What else is there?” Bodhi met her gaze and smiled sadly. “I don’t know, Sailor, is the honest truth. There’s something missing, and I don’t know what it is. I know I’m glad I found a new friend if that means anything.” Sailor grinned, flushing slightly. “Right back at you, boss.” “Gah, don’t call me that. We’re…collaborators in life.” Sailor laughed. “I like that.” She glanced at her watch. “God, it’s late. I’d better go.”

Bodhi got up, and she followed him into the kitchen. He opened a small cabinet and took out a set of keys. “Here you go. You know how to drive right?” Sailor nodded, taking the keys. Bodhi’s fingers brushed hers, and a small thrill went through her. “Will you be okay driving home?” She nodded. “Of course.” He walked her out to the car, and she couldn’t help but gasp. It was a mint green Thunderbird, in spotless condition. Sailor shook her head. “I can’t, Bodhi, this is too much.” “Sailor, this car was made for you. It’s classy, classic and beautiful. Just like you.” There were tears in Sailor’s eyes now, and she turned away from him. “Bodhi…you just met me, and already you’ve given me so much. I can’t take it, I’m sorry.” “Then think of it as a loaner until you find one you like.” He dumped the keys in her hand and steered her towards the car. His hands on her bare shoulders were soft, caressing and Sailor shivered. Nope, do not get a crush. Bodhi would take no further argument. He kissed her cheek and waved as she started down the long

driveway to the road out.

AS SHE DROVE HOME, Sailor’s thoughts were in turmoil. Bodhi was kind, generous, funny and smart, but there was certainly a little control freak in him. Did she really want that in her life again? As she opened the door to her tiny apartment, she sighed. She didn’t really have a choice, did she? And besides, she was excited about the job, as well as spending time with Bodhi and Tim. She’d seen the pain in the little boy’s eyes, reflected in his fathers who was unable to reach him. If she could help bring them together… What? What’s in it for you? She closed her eyes. I just want to feel useful. That I’ve made a difference, however small. Her mind flitted back to when Bodhi’s hands were on her bare shoulders. The feelings that had flooded through her were unexpected and scary. Desire. Sailor tried to push the thoughts away as she stripped down and stepped into her shower, but she couldn’t help but fantasize that Bodhi was in the shower with her, stroking her clit, kissing her mouth, his big arms around her, holding, protecting, loving. Her own hand snaked down and began to caress herself, masturbation had been a sin back in the commune,

especially for the ‘chosen bride’, who was meant to save herself for Bartholomew. Which was why, at twenty-four, Sailor was still a virgin. A goddamned virgin, she thought angrily. Sailor gritted her teeth for a second then returned to her fantasy. She would stroke Bodhi’s cock until it was rigid and proud against his belly and then he would take her, impaling her on his cock, and fucking her hard until she was screaming his name. Sailor’s body was trembling all over as she stroked herself into an orgasm, picturing Bodhi’s beautiful face smiling down at her and whispering her name again and again.

A FEW MILES AWAY, Bodhi lay naked on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his own mind whirling with desire, doubt, temptation. Sailor was his responsibility now, and he could not, would not take advantage of her, no matter how much he couldn’t stop thinking about her smooth caramel skin, her dark eyes, that wave of soft hair almost to her waist. He could not compromise their working relationship; Sailor needed this job. It didn’t matter how much he pictured her slowly stripping her clothes off, her large firm breasts, the curve of her waist, the deep hollow of her navel and that place

between her legs that he so much wanted to taste. No. There was a fragility to Sailor that he did not quite understand, and he would not be that guy anymore, the one who fucked around and didn’t think of the other person. No. Sailor was his employee and, more than that, his friend. Whatever damage she had, he would help her heal from, as much as she would let him. He got the impression that she hated to be told what to do. Maybe he had pushed it a little far with the car, tonight. But he had been thinking about ways to thank her all evening, and when he thought of the Thunderbird, it fitted her aesthetic so well, it seemed natural. Bodhi rolled over on his side and tried to fall asleep. Stop thinking about her… Stop. He didn’t fall asleep until it was nearly dawn – and he didn’t stop dreaming about Sailor.

SAILOR FELT her heart in her mouth as she drove excitedly up the driveway in the Thunderbird. First day of work. She and Bodhi were going to figure out a schedule for the next six months and then she could finally get started on her new career. She pulled up to the door and got out. It was hot

today and a fine sheen of sweat covered her as she left the air-conditioned car and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door swung open and Bodhi grinned at her. “I forgot to give you a key, didn’t I? Hey there, kiddo, first day.” He kissed her cheek, and she blushed, grinning back. “Come have some coffee before we start.” He led her into the kitchen and Sailor felt her heart sink as she saw there was someone else there. A beautiful woman, no, strike that, a Goddess, stood chatting with Tim and sipping a mug of tea. She looked up and smiled at Sailor as they entered the room. She had long chestnut hair, straight down past her shoulders, and big friendly hazel eyes, almond-shaped. Sailor half-smiled back, unsure of what to feel. Jealous. That’s what you are, admit it. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. Bodhi introduced them. “Sailor, this is Soleil, now that’s not going to get confusing, is it?” He laughed. “Soleil is an old friend, my best friend, Claudio’s sister.” Soleil put down her mug and came to give Sailor a hug. Her smile was genuine, her manner relaxed. “Ciao, Bella Sailor,” she said in her broken English accent. “I’ve heard good things about you from these two. I’m very glad to meet you.”

Sailor, warming to her, hugged her back. “And I, you. Hey, Tim,” she said over Soleil’s shoulder, and Tim waved his cereal spoon at her, his mouth full. Soleil released her, but stood with her arm around Sailor’s waist. “Now, before you start your job, let me warn you. Bodhi is an inveterate flirt. Don’t let him run rings around you.” She said it in a jokey tone, but Sailor knew she was telling her the truth and grinned at her boss. “I figured.” Soleil squeezed her. “Good girl. I’ll get you some coffee.” “Thanks.” Bodhi waved her towards a seat then glared at his old friend in mock-anger. “Don’t put her off me on her first day, Solly. Besides I don’t flirt with everyone.” Solly snorted as she handed Sailor a mug of coffee. “You even flirt with me, and I’m practically your sister.” “Never worked though, did it?” “I have taste. Besides, my heart belongs to another.” “Beyonce?” “That’s the one.”

Sailor watched their playful banter, still a little envious of how easily they could joke with each other, but also seeing how platonic their relationship was. Tim was watching them too, even smiling at the teasing Soleil was giving his father. Soleil left soon after, giving Sailor another hug. “Despite everything I tease him about, he’s a good man,” she said to Sailor, “I’m sure you’ll love working for him. Sailor, do you know many people in L.A.? Bodhi said you’ve only been here for six months.” Sailor shook her head. “No-one. Unless you could call the clerk at the Seven Eleven a friend.” Soleil dug a pristine business card out from her purse. “Well, now you know someone new. Anytime you need some girl time, call me.” Sailor smiled shyly. “Thanks, I will.”

B ODHI

GRINNED AT HER .

“She’s great, huh?”

Sailor nodded. “Lovely, really lovely.” women of Florence with abandonment. Soleil herself didn’t have time for relationships. At thirtyone, she was one of the most successful art dealers in the world and traveled constantly. Bodhi had

harbored a crush on his friend’s younger sister when he was younger, but Soleil, who had known about the attraction, had made it clear that it would never happen between them. Now they had cultivated a friendship, which was as important to Bodhi as his relationship with Claudio. He grinned at Sailor. “So, I just have to take Tim to school then we can get started. Why don’t you explore the house and grounds while we’re gone? I’ll be a half hour, tops.” “Okay.”

SAILOR WANDERED around the vast grounds of the mansion as she waited for Bodhi to return. The pool, which glittered blue in the morning sun, was huge and she wondered if Bodhi would mind if she, on occasion, did some laps in it on her lunch break. She felt her body was becoming untoned lately. She hated to go to the gym, but swimming was her thing, letting the water stream past her body. She loved it. She crouched down and dangled her fingers in the cool water. Bliss on a hot June morning in L.A. There was a small guesthouse across the other side of the pool, and she went over, trying the door and finding it unlocked, she went in. It was lite, open and airy inside, constructed to look

like a beach house, all white painted wood, hurricane lamps and white furniture. A whole wall with solid bookcases and Sailor gave a silent ‘yay’ as she saw the books were a mix of fiction, nonfiction, and others. She picked out a Stephen King novel and scooched down on the couch to start reading. She missed this, having books on hand to bury herself in.

SHE DIDN ’ T HEAR Bodhi come home so absorbed in the book. He stood, leaning at the doorway, watching her, a small smile playing around his mouth. God, she was adorable, all that dark hair shoved into a messy ponytail, her blue jeans flared over her Chuck Taylors, her pink t-shirt snug against her breasts and flat belly. Again, he reminded himself that she was his employee… “Hey, there.” Sailor looked up and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Bookshelves are like catnip to me.” “Hey, it’s all at your disposal, buddy, all of it. Even the guesthouse itself. You ever need to stay late; you can use this as your own. Hell, you could even move in, rent-free of course, if you want.” Sailor closed the book and replaced it back on the

shelf. “There you go again, trying to give me stuff.” But she smiled as she said it. Bodhi shrugged. “I understand, but it’s just stuff, you know? I like to share.” Sailor nodded, smiling. “Shall we get to work?”

I T WAS MADDENING , Bodhi thought, to have her so close beside him, breathing in her clean scent of fresh linen and cotton, her hair escaping from the ponytail. But he wasn’t a kid anymore, wasn’t that man who would risk everything for a fuck. He liked Sailor as a person, regardless of his attraction to her, and throughout that day, he came to understand just how intelligent and efficient she was. He marveled at her ability to brainstorm ideas with him when, by her own admission, she knew nothing about the music business. Bodhi had setup a conference call with Emily Moore in San Francisco, and Sailor had handled it with confidence and grace, not afraid to ask questions when she needed. Emily, a sweet-natured woman, offered to represent Bodhi officially and Sailor setup a day to fly up and sign contracts the following week. “Come on a day when some of the honchos from Quartet are here, Bodhi. You can meet Dash and

Roman, maybe Tomas too if he can drag himself away from Bay. You know the 9th and Pine are on tour and that Bay is seven months pregnant, right? Lunatic. So, Tom may be with her, but Roman and Dash will be here.” “Sounds good. I’ll let you and Sailor discuss dates if that’s okay.” “Wonderful. Speak soon, Sailor.” When Emily had ended the call, Sailor grinned at Bodhi. “Just between you and me, I will totally get star struck if I meet the 9th and Pine.” “And yet, not star struck at all with me,” Bodhi sighed, with mock-self-pity. “I’m just hiding it well,” Sailor shot back and Bodhi laughed. He stood up and stretched. “We got a lot done today, Sailor, I’m feeling reenergized. It’ll be good to get back to work, but not until I have this situation with Tim sorted out. I won’t neglect him for my work.” Sailor smiled at him. “See? I know you don’t think you’re a good dad, but you are.” Bodhi was quiet then, and Sailor bit her lip. “Sorry, was that inappropriate?” Bodhi shook his head. “No, it was a sweet thing to

say, but I’m sorry, I don’t believe it. I can’t reach him, Sailor. When you’re not here, or when Solly or Claudio isn't around, he ignores me.” He sat down next to her. “Can I ask you a question?” “Anything.” “Did you know what you were missing? Growing up without parents?” Sailor sighed. “It wasn’t like that really, we were all…taken care of. If that’s what you call caring for someone,” she added, almost to herself and Bodhi was intrigued. “Sailor…just what was this commune like? Are we talking Maharishi Yogi or Jim Jones?” Sailor chuckled uncomfortably. “Somewhere between the two…look, I really don’t want to talk about that. I’m sorry.” Bodhi nudged her with his shoulder. “It’s cool. Look, we need to get your passport arranged by Friday, so let’s get it done.”

B ARTHOLOMEW FOY STALKED BACK to his office and slammed the door. Six months. Six months since his

Sailor had run away and nothing. He’d spent millions trying to look for her, all across the country, but wherever she had hidden herself, she’d done an excellent job. As soon as Monica had returned from the store that day, fuming, and obviously scared of what Bart would do to her for losing Sailor, Bart had never known rage like that. For years, he had bided his time, waiting for Sailor to reach womanhood. He’d been tempted to take her before she reached twenty-five, dreaming endlessly of her caramel colored skin, her dark eyes. He remembered her mother, Devi, a single mother Indian immigrant, who he’d found on the streets of San Francisco and had fallen for. Devi, although grateful to him, had resisted his charms at first, then as he promised her that she would be taken care of, she had come to him, and to his bed. He’d murdered her just after Sailor was born. She’d been seeing another man, outside of the Children of Love. It was his first kill, but not the last, and now his bloodlust entirely for Sailor. This time, though, unlike with Tilly, he would do the deed himself, to punish her himself, to make her beg for her life before he took it. Ungrateful little whore. A knock at his study door interrupted his dark reverie. “What?” Salem, his slinky-hipped bodyguard, slipped into

the room. “Something just pinged in California. One of our moles. She says she might, and I emphasize might, have spotted someone who resembles Sailor at a passport office in Los Angeles. The woman couldn’t be sure, but she alerted our Californian branch, and they’re following up.” Bart tapped his pen on his desk impatiently. “That’s it? That’s all they got?” Salem, the one person on his staff who wasn’t afraid of Bart, sat down in the chair opposite him. “It’s more than we’ve had since Sailor disappeared, Bart. And we have a contact at the passport office who is getting back to me later with anything he can find out.” “Good.” Bart put his pen down and nodded at his bodyguard. “Good. Salem, when I get my hands on her…” Salem beamed, showing a row of very even, very white teeth. “I can only imagine, Bart.” Bart’s eyes were dark, dangerous. “The only thing I’ll regret will be that I’ll only get to kill Sailor once.”

TIM

WAS CHATTING AWAY HAPPILY

to Sailor as they

sat on Bodhi’s private plane on their way to the Caribbean late Friday night. After her first week as Bodhi’s assistant, Sailor was exhausted, but exhilarated. There was so much to do, to think about, but she loved that Bodhi instinctively trusted her to get the job done without interfering. Next week would be even more exciting when they flew up to San Francisco to meet Emily and the Quartet people. Sailor and Bodhi had discussed his move to the small, but more eclectic and inclusive label. “Look who they have on their roster,” Sailor enthused, “The 9th & Pine for one, but look at these others. They’ve phased out every reality star and TV station brat and the quality of their music shines through. You deserve this label, Bodhi, and they deserve you.” Bodhi grinned at her enthusiasm. “You cheering for them now? Sure it’s not to get an introduction to the band?” “Well, that too,” she quipped back, and they’d both laughed. “I have such a girl crush on Bay Tambe.” “You’re only human. But I think Tom Meir and their gazillion kids might object.” “How many now? I know she’s pregnant again.”

“Three, including the belly-bound one.” Sailor studied him. “So, the ‘gazillion’ was a bit of an exaggeration, then?” He grinned. “A little.” There was a short pause. “Between us, did you want kids? I mean, you kind of got blindsided with Tim, didn’t you?” Bodhi sighed. “Now that isn’t an exaggeration. The truth is, no. It was never in me to have kids. But, Sailor, the second I knew Tim was mine, and look at us, I didn’t even need a DNA test to prove paternity, something shifted in me and I knew I would do anything for him.” Sailor felt tears spring into her eyes and she looked away. “Sailor King, are you crying?” She shook her head, but laughed as the tears escaped anyway. “It’s just the love in your voice just then. Tim is a lucky kid, no matter how he’s hurting now.” Bodhi half-smiled, but his eyes were troubled. “He’s hurting?” “He got left with a man he doesn’t know, shoved into a life that most kids only dream about. His

mom calls him, what, twice a week? I know she’s going through some stuff but…” Sailor stopped herself, hearing the anger rising in her voice. This isn’t about you, Sailor. “Sorry,” she said to him, guiltily. “Not my business.” Bodhi rubbed her back. “You’re a part of this family, now, Sailor. You say what you feel whenever you feel like saying it.” Sailor took a deep breath in and shot him a grateful look. “I am sorry, though. But, Bodhi, I think Tim needs time to be resentful if he wants too…he’ll come around in his own time.”

TIM WAS YAWNING NOW , and even though he was a whole ten years old and a big boy, he crawled onto Sailor’s lap, snuggled into her, and fell asleep. Sailor, who was barely bigger than Tim herself, locked her arms around the boy, shooting a glance over to Bodhi, hoping his feelings wouldn’t be hurt. Bodhi smiled at her, his eyes soft, and she saw no reproach in his look. Instead, their gazes locked for a long moment, before Tim murmured, fidgeting in his sleep, and broke the spell. Bodhi grinned, then got up to go to the bathroom. Sailor kissed the top of Tim’s dark head and fantasized that, yes, this

was her family now.

I T WAS the early hours of the morning before they reached the villa on the island and Bodhi carried his sleeping son to a bedroom off the main living area. Sailor went over to the huge glass sliding door on the opposite wall and slid it open. It led down to a small beach and Sailor could hear the ocean gracing the shoreline. “Beautiful.” She sighed, happily. “I agree,” she heard Bodhi and turned around, blushing when she realized he was looking at her, and not the ocean. He came to stand beside her, putting his hand on her back. “Are you tired?” She nodded. Bodhi stroked her hair back from her face. “The staff has made up all the beds, and there’s air conditioning, thank god. Do you want a drink before bed?” Sailor smiled. “Okay.” Bodhi grabbed a bottle of scotch and two glasses then nodded out of the door. “Let’s sit by the ocean; we can hear if Tim starts yelling.” The moon was full, so they had plenty of light as they sat side-by-side, drinking their scotch. Sailor

made a face at first, but Bodhi just laughed. “Keep sipping, it’ll be your friend soon enough.” Sure Sure-enough, she began to enjoy the warm burn of the liquid in her throat. She chuckled a little. “What?” Bodhi was studying her, a smile on his face. Sailor shook her head. “If you only knew how much my life has changed in just one week, Bodhi. Hell, in six months.” “Then tell me,” he said gently. Sailor chewed on her lip for a while before answering. “You were nearer the mark with Jim Jones,” she began, not able to look at Bodhi. “The commune, hell, no, it’s a cult, I have to start calling it that. The leader is a man called Bartholomew Foy. Yeah,” she said, grinning at Bodhi’s face, “That’s his real name as far as I know. But then again, I don’t know if I believe anything about the man except one thing.” “What’s that?” Sailor felt sadness swim through her as she recalled the photos of her beloved Tilly being so brutally murdered. “He’s a monster…” She whispered, her voice breaking. “and he chose me to be his next,

bride. When I reached my womanhood.” “Your womanhood?” She gave him a strange smile. “In the cult, women aren’t permitted to have sexual relations until their twenty-fifth birthday. That’s what it means. And when I reached mine, Bart was determined that I would be his. I disagreed and that’s why I left.” A clearly horrified Bodhi put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “You don’t ever have to be afraid of him again, Sailor. I promise you that.” She smiled gratefully up at him, and again, their gazes locked. This time she didn’t look away. Bodhi moved closer, but stopped himself. “I think we need to get some sleep,” he said lightly, and Sailor was at once both disappointed and relieved. He pulled her to her feet and held her hand as they walked back into the villa. “I meant what I said,” Bodhi told her as he showed her where her room was. “You are part of this family now, Sailor. And whatever you want goes, okay? You need to know what freedom really is and I will do anything in my power to protect you as long as you need me to.” “Thank you, Bodhi.”

He smiled down at her and she so desperately wanting to kiss his mouth, it became a physical pain inside her. “Goodnight, Sailor.” “Goodnight.”

SAILOR SHUT THE DOOR , and Bodhi went to his own room, his emotions in turmoil. Sailor was a virgin? At twenty-five? And god, what the hell kind of fucked up upbringing had she had? Bodhi took a cold shower and then slid, naked into bed. He’d nearly broken all of his rules too and kissed her out there on the beach. He had to get her out of his head. But how? He didn’t want to go back to the screwing around ways of his youth. And nor did he want to keep Sailor at arms-length. She was as important to him now as his own…shit, man, what’s wrong with you? You’ve known her a week. He sat up and tugged his laptop towards him, waiting for the browser to load, then typing in ‘Bartholomew Foy.' So many results, but Bodhi first clicked on the man’s photograph. A man in his early fifties, smart, but with a sly look on his dully handsome face. He flicked onto the man’s website.

THE C HILDREN of Love welcomes you in their loving embrace…

“GOD ,” he snorted, but then as he scrolled down, his blood ran cold. A photograph of a much younger Sailor, her eyes haunted, much thinner than she was now was on the front page. Underneath, an open letter to her begging her to return to their fold. Bodhi read through it with growing horror.

MY

DEAREST ,

precious Sailor,

N OW THAT YOU have been gone from us for all these long months, I cannot bear the sadness that has come over all of us. You have left a chasm in our souls that cannot be replaced by anyone.

P LEASE, my darling girl, return to the people who loved you, raised you, nurtured you. Return to me, loveliest Sailor, for I will be the husband of your dreams, just as I promised you. Just as I was to your friend and mentor, Tilly.

I F ANYONE SEES my darling girl, please call us collect on 555-658-845 or email me at [email protected], or speak to one of our advisors at anyone of our drop-in centers around the United States.

P LEASE

HELP

us find our beloved girl. #FindSailor.

B ODHI GROANED SOFTLY. Jesus, this man was a psychopath. Bodhi had seen way too many people like this in his line of work. Egotistical, control freaks who used passive aggressive tricks like this to control people. Bodhi had no doubt that when that didn’t work, Bartholomew Foy would turn to just plain old aggression. He had to find out more about this. One thing Bodhi knew for certain. No way would Bartie Foy ever, ever lay another hand on Sailor again.

SAILOR CHOKED in exasperation as Tim splashed sea water all over her as they played in the sandbars.

Bodhi stretched out on a sun recliner, watched them with amusement, trying not to be too distracted by Sailor’s curves in her yellow twopiece, which looked striking against her golden skin. “Hey, old man,” she yelled at him, and he grinned. “Come play with us.” He waved his hand. “I don’t want to disturb your game.” And besides, if I get too close to you in that bikini, I won’t be responsible for my actions… Sailor gave a face then, grinning wickedly, whispered something in Tim’s ear. The boy started to laugh, then covered his face to hide his giggles. They were obviously up to something. Sailor strode out of the water and sauntered casually up the beach. Bodhi made no apology for admiring her body, and she caught the gleam in his eye. “And you can stop that right now,” she said tartly, then grinned. “Come on, rock god, come show the Great Whites what a real man looks like.” She took his hands and pulled him into a sitting position, but he refused to be pulled to his feet, instead, laughing as Sailor, all of five-two, tried to pull his six-five up. She must weigh a quarter of

what I do, he thought, fondly, then yelped as something very slimy and very cold was slipped down the back of his swim trunks. Sailor let go immediately as he got to his feet, ramming his hand down to his butt and pulling out a handful of seaweed from his shorts. Behind him, a giggle and he turned to see Tim, backing off, but grinning at him. Sailor skittered over to Tim, both of them laughing at Bodhi, and took his hand. Bodhi looked between them and the handful of seaweed and stifled a laugh. Instead, he arranged his face into a warrior snarl and roared as he took off in hot pursuit of his tormentors. Tim and Sailor shrieked with laughter as he chased them back into the sea. Bodhi grabbed Tim and threw him up onto his shoulders as the child laughed. Bodhi grinned at him. “Shall we get Sailor? Shall we?” He advanced on Sailor who was giggling uncontrollably and backing off, as they drew near. Tim gave a banshee scream, imitating his dad and they both rushed her, tipping her over into the sea. She emerged, gasping for air and laughing. Bodhi thought he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. As Tim and Sailor teased him, and he played the fool for them, he was thinking about how much he would like to pull down one of those yellow

cups on her bikini and take her nipple into his mouth, hear her gasp for pleasure, slid those bikini panties down her golden legs, run his tongue along her sex. Jesus, stop, man. There was no way to hide an erection in these swim shorts. He backed off into deeper water and swam around them for a while, hoping his hard-on would subside. Tim stood watching him, and he smiled at his son. “Can you swim, Timbo?” Tim waved his hand. “A little bit. Not very much.” “Would you like me to teach you?” Tim hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “But not in the ocean, Dad. At home, I would like that better.” Bodhi’s heart swelled, and he had to smile to hide the tears in his eyes. “Wherever you want, sport.” Later after an exhausted Tim was sleeping, and after they’d all enjoyed a good meal of fresh fish and roast vegetables, they sat out on the beach again, the ever-present bottle of scotch between them. Bodhi turned to Sailor with shining eyes. “He called me Dad, Sails.”

Sailor nudged his shoulder with hers. “I know. I nearly cried.” “Me too.” Bodhi’s smile was incredulous. “It’s all cause of you, Sails, all of it. If you hadn’t…” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat, looking away. Sailor hesitated then leaned down and pressed her lips against his bare shoulder, just briefly. She looked up at him. “You saved my life, Bodhi. And no, it wasn’t just me. I keep telling you, you’re a great dad, a wonderful, warm, giving person. Most, unlike a rockstar, I must say.” She made the joke to try and break the tension between them. Bodhi studied her. “If you know how much I want to kiss you right now…” Sailor’s eyes took on a wary look, and he was sorry he’d said that. “I apologize, Sailor. That was inappropriate.” “No.” Her voice was soft. “I feel it too, you know? I just…if it went wrong between us…I don’t know how I would survive losing you. It’s been a week. A week, Bodhi, and I’m…feeling things I’ve never felt before. Things that were taken from me a long time ago and I don’t know if I’m capable of being the woman you need.”

She sighed, and Bodhi put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, looking up at him. God, she was so beautiful it made his heart hurt. “What do you want, Sailor? What can I give you to help you?” She was silent for a long time then looked up at him. “Bodhi…you know that saying…’What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’?” Bodhi nodded slowly. Sailor stood and held her hand out to him and pulled him up. He slid his arms around her waist. “What you can give me, Bodhi is you. In this moment. For this night. You must know I’m a virgin by now…and I want to give it you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. But what happens here on the island, stays here. We won’t let it affect our friendship or our working relationship. That’s what you can give me.”

B ODHI BENT his head and pressed his lips to hers, and it was sweeter than he had imagined. His fingers trailed up and down her spine, and she shivered, kissing him back with the same intense passion he was feeling. She was still wearing that yellow bikini, with a sarong tied around her waist. He took her hand and led her to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Sailor looked nervous for a moment as he approached, her arms curled around his neck. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “Don’t be…don’t be scared…” He dropped to his knees in front of her and pressed his lips to her belly. His tongue slowly rimmed her navel as his fingers untied the sarong and let it drop to the floor. Sailor gasped and swayed as his hand slipped between her legs and began to caress her through her panties. With his other hand, Bodhi pulled down the cup of her bikini top and closed his mouth over her nipple, sucking on it, grazing the small bud with his teeth. Sailor moaned with pleasure, tangling her fingers in his dark curls. Bodhi slid her panties off and gently parted her legs. His tongue sought her clit, and he felt her shiver as he took it into his mouth. He teased her, making her legs tremble then stood and swept her onto the bed. He tugged his shirt over his head and removed his pants. His cock, thick and long, was already taut and rigid, as his eyes drank in the sight of her body stretched out on his bed. God, she was glorious…even though she still looked terrified. He covered her body with his, kissing her gently. He smoothed her hair away from her lovely face. “Sweet Sailor…don’t be afraid. If you want to me stop at any time, just say the word. I swear, I swear to god, I won’t hurt you.”

And he kissed every part of her exposed skin until she was a shivering wreck of desire, her nipples hard, her belly quivering with arousal. He stroked it gently, his thumb strumming a rhythm over her navel. He slid his hand down between her legs and found her soaking wet for him. “Are you ready, my darling?” Sailor nodded, her breath coming in short gasps now, her eyes never leaving his. Bodhi gently pulled her legs around his waist and guided himself into her, slowly, watching her every reaction as his cock filled her velvety soft cunt. Sailor’s eyes opened wide as he thrust for the first time, the tiniest cry coming from her as they began to move together. He kissed her tenderly as they made love and was gratified by her clamping her fingernails into his back, urging him on. She stifled her cry as she came, shivering and gasping his name, and Bodhi felt the hot rush of his cum pumping inside her. Sailor kissed him passionately, and he could feel tears on her cheeks. She was smiling though, he felt the curve of her lips against his own. “Bodhi...” Her whispering his name was like honey to his soul. He gazed down at her. “Are you okay?” Sailor nodded. “Very, very okay…that was

incredible.” Bodhi smiled. “I’m glad you think so.” “Were you holding back?” She stroked his face, and he brushed her lips with his. “A little, I admit. It was a big responsibility.” Sailor had tears in her eyes. “You made it so beautiful, Bodhi.” He kissed the tears from her eyes. “You’re beautiful, Sailor, and funny, and smart and wonderful. It was my honor to be your first.” Her eyes were soft with love, but she nodded. “Bodhi…I meant what I said. I want to work with you and be your friend, and I don’t want this to compromise anything.” “It won’t, I swear. We make a good team, you and me, Sails.” “I love that nickname.” Bodhi grinned. “You must have been called that before.” She shook her head. “In the cult, nicknames were frowned upon.” “And you changed your name legally when you

came to California?” She nodded. “But it never stuck with me, it’s just for official documents. Sailor was the one thing that came from my mother. She named me, and that’s who I am.” Bodhi propped himself on his elbow and ran his palm down her belly. “Do you remember her?” Sailor considered for a moment. “I think so…but I’m not entirely sure that it’s a real memory or just a fantasy. I had one photograph of her, I look just like her.” “What happened to her?” Sailor’s eyes grew sad. “I don’t know, no-one would ever speak about her to me, Bart’s orders, I think.” “What do you think happened? Did she run away and leave you?” There was a long silence. “No. I think he murdered her.” The shock hit Bodhi full in the chest. “What?” Sailor met his gaze. “I don’t know for sure. What I do know is that he did murder his second wife, Tilly. She was my teacher and my best friend. She lived under his control for too long, just to take care

of us. When she fell in love with someone else…he had her killed. In front of her lover.” “Jesus.” Bodhi felt his heart pounding. “You know this for sure?” She nodded. “He showed me photographs of the murder…just before I was supposed to marry him. The photographs showed two men, I’d never seen them before, but one was holding Tilly down, the other was stabbing her to death. God, Bodhi, the fear, the pain in her eyes…and then the last photo they showed her body on the ground, drenched in blood, and her lover tied to a chair sobbing. I don’t know what happened to him, I assume they killed him too.” Bodhi was beyond horrified and he wrapped himself around Sailor. She’d been through hell. “Why the fuck did he show you those photos? Why would he admit to it?” She smiled at him sadly. “To show me what would happen to me if I defied him.” God, no. No. Bodhi squeezed his eyes shut, trying to scourge the images of Sailor being stabbed to death, of her blood being spilled. He felt her touch his face. “Don’t look so sad. I escaped, I’m here.”

Bodhi touched his forehead to hers. “Sailor, I promise you, I will keep you safe if it’s the last thing I do in this world. He’ll never touch you again. Do you know if he’s looking for you?” She gave a humorless laugh. “Oh yes. Bartholomew Foy is never defied, not least by a woman. If he finds me, I’m a dead woman, of that I have no doubt.” “No. No way. That’s never going to happen, baby, never.” She smiled up at him. “You just called me baby.” “I know. Sailor, I know it’s fast, but I have never had such an immediate connection with anyone. I’m not bullshitting. In my world, I understand that me saying that could be misconstrued as a line, but I mean it sincerely. I want to see where this takes us.” Sailor nodded. “You have a hero complex.” She said it softly, with a smile. Bodhi blinked but smiled. “You think?” She chuckled. “A little. I can see it in your face, you want to save me. And you know what? That’s okay, as long as you remember I have control of my own life, and that as much as you want to save me, I want to save you. Can we be equals, Bodhi? Or is

this all a little heavy for you, so soon? Because never again will I allow myself to be dictated to or by anyone, even by someone I…adore.” Bodhi was impressed. “Sailor, you have an old soul. Of course, anything. And just so you know? I adore you too. Tim is crazy about you, so at least I know I have something in common with him.” Sailor laughed. “You made leaps and bounds today.” Bodhi kissed her. “Entirely due to you, beautiful lady.” He covered her body with his. “And now, allow me to show you just how grateful I am…”

I N THE MORNING , Sailor slipped back to her own room before Tim awoke. She and Bodhi had decided that was best for now; they would gradually show affection for each other in front of the boy, ease him into getting used to the budding relationship. “If that’s what it is,” Sailor murmured to herself as she showered and dressed in denim shorts and an oversized white shirt. Her life had changed so much in the last twenty-four hours she couldn’t help feel shell-shocked, and at the same time, happy. She wondered at the new feeling. She couldn’t regret

anything that had happened between herself and Bodhi, regardless of her reservations. Making love with him all night had been a revelation to her, although she knew anyone else would consider the sex low-key and tentative at first, by the end of the night, her whole body felt like it was on fire. Her clit was still sensitive this morning, her vagina sore and aching from the pounding of Bodhi’s huge cock. Her thighs were jelly as she walked back into the huge kitchen. Tim grinned at her. “Dad says we’re going hiking today, in the forest. There’s a waterfall.” Sailor sat down, smiling at him and Bodhi, who leaned over and kissed her cheek, whispering in her ear. “You’re beautiful.” She blushed a little, pleasure streaming through her body. She turned to Tim. “That sounds like fun. Maybe we should take a picnic with us?” Tim nodded eagerly. “I have a backpack we can put food in. Maybe some cans of soda?” He looked hopefully at Bodhi, who limited his son’s sugary drinks. Bodhi laughed at the plaintive glance his son gave him. “Hey kiddo, we’re on vacation, anything goes.” He gave a secretive wink to Sailor who chuckled.

through the island’s thick forest, Bodhi watched his son and Sailor as they chatted effortlessly and explored the island’s flora and fauna. He chuckled as Sailor recoiled away from a tarantula that Tim, showed her without fear, picking it up and inspecting it. H IKED

“He’s so fluffy,” Tim exclaimed, but Sailor grimaced. “And he’ll be fluffy right back where you found him too,” she said half-grinning, Tim put the spider back into the undergrowth. Sailor shuddered. “Arachnophobe, hey? I learn something new every day.” Bodhi told her and Sailor shrugged. “Snakes, lizards, other bugs don’t bother me. It’s just spiders and especially ones that big. Jeez, you could have put a saddle on that one.” She shuddered again, and Bodhi smirked, taking her hand. They walked further into the forest until they came to a swimming hole. Another couple was there with their son, and Tim got talking to him. Soon both boys were dive-bombing into the swimming hole. Sailor and Bodhi got talking to the other couple, but soon Bodhi nodded to Sailor. “Shall I go get some beers for us, some cold drinks for the boys?”

The other man nodded. “Sounds good, there’s a bar just about half a mile through the forest over there. Do you want some company?” Sailor got to her feet. “I’ll help you, if you don’t mind watching the boys?” She addressed the other couple who both nodded. “No problem, and thanks. Let me know how much we owe you for the beers.” Bodhi grinned. “Don’t worry about, my treat. See you in a few, Timbo?” Tim looked up. “We’re going to get some cold drinks. Mike and Hannah will be watching you for a few minutes, is that okay?” Tim nodded. “Sure, Dad.” He immediately went back to playing with the other boy, Matty.

SAILOR NUDGED Bodhi’s shoulder as they set off, hand-in-hand. “Every time he calls you Dad, you glow, you know that?” Bodhi grinned sheepishly. “I do…” He stopped and kissed her. “You must think I’m a useless rockstar. No drugs, no whoring around (anymore, anyway) and I get high from my kid calling me, Dad.”

Sailor kissed him back. “The good thing about living in a sect is that I don’t know an awful lot about the life of a rockstar. Obviously, since I’ve been out, I’ve learned much more, but I don’t have preconceived ideas about what you should be like. I just know Bodhi, not Bodhi Creed, the Rockstar.” He took her face in her hands. “With you, I can really be myself for the first time,” he whispered. “I don’t have to pretend I’m anything, but a middleaged man, fumbling around, trying to be the best father, and now, the best boyfriend, I can be.” Sailor blinked. Boyfriend? Was this really happening? Bodhi was studying her. “Did I just freak you out?” “A little,” she admitted, but then she smiled. “But I liked it.” Bodhi pressed his lips to hers. “You know, it’s very secluded right here.” His fingers were at the fly of her denim shorts, and she didn’t stop him as he pushed them down her legs and lifted her up. He unzipped and freed his cock from his own shorts and then he was inside her, pushing her back against the trunk of a tree, moving gently at first then when Sailor moaned at the feel of him inside her, and as she began to claw at his back, he thrust harder and harder until they were both gasping for air. Sailor buried her cry in his neck as she came,

and Bodhi muffled his own groans as he kissed her passionately.

THEY MADE their way back to the swimming hole, carrying the drinks and spent a blissful afternoon chatting with Mike and Hannah and their son. Tim seemed more relaxed than Bodhi had ever seen him, and when, on the way back to the villa in the early evening, Tim took his hand, Bodhi could have cried with happiness. It was with regret that they piled back onto the private jet that evening. Tim was chatting away to Sailor at first, but then he fell asleep, after moaning that Bodhi wouldn’t let him skip school in the morning. “That was the deal, Buddy. Luxury for the weekend, but then it’s back to normal.” Tim grumbled, but Bodhi could sense the change in their relationship. He put a blanket over his sleeping son and smiled at Sailor. “You tired too, baby?” “A little, but for all the right reasons.” He went to sit next to her and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m glad. Look, we both know we’re going to have to navigate this thing. The last thing I

want is for us being together causing you any pain or misgivings. There’s something else too. The press. Sailor…they hound me when it comes to relationships, and if they even get a whiff of this, they’ll come after you. So, we need to figure out how this is going to work.” Sailor’s eyes were wide. “I never even considered that…god. If they print my photo, Bart will know where I am.” “Yes. That’s my biggest fear. So, we need to plan. I have an idea, but it may seem weird to you.” Sailor drew in a long breath. “Hit me with it.” “I enter into a ‘fake’ relationship for the press. Now, I know who to ask, and I’m pretty sure she’ll go along with it, but it would depend on you.” “Who?” “Soleil.” Sailor nodded, trying not to be jealous, but she couldn’t help it. Soleil was gorgeous. Bodhi saw her reservations in her eyes. “Sails…I’m not Soleil’s type, I swear. You might be, but I’m most definitely not.” Sailor was surprised. “She’s gay?”

“Very. But she’s also very private and doesn’t broadcast her relationships. Luckily, art dealers aren’t great with gossip, unless you’re a Mallory or a Bartoli.” “I have no idea who they are,” she grinned, truthfully and he laughed. “Well, see? Anyway, the press is used to seeing me with Solly and Claudio, so the interest will be minimal, but at least they’ll think we’re together and not focus on you.” Sailor sat up and nodded. “Well, if Soleil would go along with it…but I wouldn’t want to inconvenience her.” “To keep you safe, I would,” Bodhi said fervently, but then he relaxed. “I was thinking, if anyone asks, we could say you’re the family’s assistant, Tim’s tutor?” Bodhi was uncertain, but Sailor nodded. “That suits me. That’s what I am after all.” Bodhi stroked her face. “You’re so much more than that, baby. Maybe you should move in. It’ll be safer as well as…I’m selfish, I want you near.” Sailor chewed on her lip, and Bodhi nodded. “You have doubts.”

“It’s not that I can’t see the sense of it, but…I just got my own place after years of being…segregated. I do want to be close to you and Tim, I do…can I think about it?” Bodhi nuzzled his nose to hers. “Of course. I understand, I do. Look, I have a suggestion for you to think about. You loved the guesthouse, right? As I said before, it’s yours, your own place. You want privacy, you just go off and lay in there. I know it’s not the same, but you’ll be within my compound and safe. Security won’t be intrusive, I swear. But only if you want to be there. Don’t let me sway you, either way, that’s not how we work.” Sailor kissed him. “You are just the sweetest guy.” “We’re going to make it, I swear, Sailor. I will do anything to make this work.” He kissed her until they were both panting for breath. “Stay tonight. It’ll be late when we get home anyway. You can sleep in the guesthouse if you want, but stay…”

SHE FELL asleep in his arms and woke up as the plane landed. Sailor’s mind was whirling with the events of the past two days, and their plans for going forward. Could they make it work? She hoped so with all of her heart.

Tim was asleep when Bodhi carried him to his room, and Sailor went over to the guesthouse and dumped her bag in there. Switching on the lamps in the house, she looked at it. Yes, she could imagine living here, it’s comfortable with a slightly shabby beach-house feel as a reminder of their heavenly time on the island. She felt Bodhi’s arms snake around her waist and she turned to kiss him. He kissed her lips, then trailed his mouth down her neck and kissed her throat, her shoulders, pulling the straps of her dress down her arms. The dress fell to the floor, followed by her bra and then he drew her panties down her legs. She stepped out of them, utterly unembarrassed about being naked with him now. She pulled his t-shirt over his head and unbuttoned his jean. Soon, both naked, they were running their hands all over the other, wanting to be as close as possible. Sailor smiled up at him as she sank to her knees. “Tell me if I do this wrong,” she said softly, then took his cock into her mouth, sweeping her tongue over the wide crest of him, tasting the salty pre-cum. He tasted of salt and fresh air, and she ran her tongue up and down his length, as her hands massaged his balls gently. “God…Sailor…” Bodhi groaned, and she felt his cock thickening and becoming taut and engorged as she pleasured him. She teased the sensitive end

with the tip of her tongue, hearing him moan. His hands tangled in her long hair, the pads of his fingers massaging her scalp in a way that made tingles shoot down her body. Sailor could feel her own sex become wet and swollen, a steady pulse beating between her legs and when, before he came, Bodhi withdrew from her mouth, he was almost violent in his need for her, tumbling her to the floor, and pushing her legs wide apart so he could go down on her. She nearly shrieked as his mouth made contact with her too-sensitive clit and when he began to slide two fingers in and out of her sopping wet cunt, she writhed and moaned underneath him, trying not to cum too soon, to prolong this sweet, sweet torture. “Bodhi…I want to watch you touch yourself….” Bodhi grinned and began to move his free hand up and down his cock as his other hand fucked her, his thumb strumming a beat on her clit. “Anything for you, baby.” Sailor moaned and gasped as Bodhi’s hands moved faster and faster. “I want to cum on your belly,” Bodhi said, his voice ragged with desire and she nodded, coming as he shot creamy white cum onto her soft abdomen. They panted for air together, kissing, then Sailor wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and Bodhi

plunged his cock deep into her, and they made love for the rest of the night. In the morning, she awoke in the big double bed in the guesthouse, alone. On the other pillow, she found a note. Making breakfast for us all. Take your time, come in when you’re ready, my darling. He’d drawn a rough love-heart at the end, which made Sailor smile. She showered and dressed in a tshirt and jeans. As she dried her hair, she gazed at her reflection. You are the luckiest girl in the world, Sailor King. She still couldn’t reconcile how much her life had changed. When she walked into the kitchen, Bodhi was at the stove, breaking eggs into a skillet. He grinned at her and kissed her cheek. They’d agreed not to kiss on the mouth in front of Tim…yet. Let him get used to the idea of us first, Sailor had said, and Bodhi agreed. Tim was scarfing down pancakes like they were going extinct. “You okay, buddy?” Sailor ruffled his hair. Tim grinned. “Sailor, Dad said you’re going to live in the guesthouse if you want too.” Sailor shot Bodhi a glance, and he winked at her.

She snickered to herself, trust Bodhi to get Tim on his side, then smiled at Tim. “You okay with that?” “Sure, I am,” he said, beaming. “I like having you here. So, does Dad.” “He’s got that right,” Bodhi looked at Sailor with such a look of desire on his face that Sailor felt a flush creeping over her entire body. “Dad?” Bodhi dumped some eggs on two plates for him and Sailor. “Yeah, buddy?” “Can Sailor take me to school today?” Bodhi and Sailor exchanged a look, the Bodhi smiled at his son. “Why don’t you ask Sailor?” Tim looked at her, and she nodded. “Of course, I’d love to. But can we take your SUV? I’d feel too inconspicuous in the Thunderbird.” Bodhi stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a set of car keys. “Go crazy. Actually, don’t go crazy, drive safely.” They all laughed at him, and then Tim put down his fork. “I’ll go get my school bag.” He hopped off the kitchen stool and disappeared into his bedroom. Bodhi immediately leaned over

and kissed Sailor’s mouth. “Good morning, beautiful.” She pressed her lips back to his. “Good morning, handsome.” They kissed softly, enjoying the feel of the other’s lips. “God, I want you…when you get back from dropping Tim at school…” Sailor grinned at him. “We do have work to do, Mr. Creed.” He groaned in disappointment. “Screw work.” “I’d rather screw you,” she said mischievously, and he laughed. “Bad girl, now I have to deal with a hard-on until you get back.” She leaned close to him. “I’ll deal with that, I promise.” Bodhi grabbed her head and kissed her passionately. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, little girl.” He growled, and she gave a slightly shocked giggle. “I can’t wait…”

AS SHE DROVE up to the school, Tim grinned at her. “Want to come say hi to some of my friends?” Sailor hesitated, but figured it couldn’t hurt. Tim was obviously keen on showing her off. Sailor was glad she had shoved her long dark hair into a baseball cap. She was reminded of the wigs she had stolen from the bridal boutique when she escaped from Monica, the wigs that had gotten her to California safe and unrecognized. It sent a thrill of fear through her, but she shook it off. That life is over. She parked the car and got out with Tim. He ran ahead and started to talking to some friends, who stood with their moms. Tim introduced her to his best friend Harry, and Harry’s mom, Diane. Diane greeted her warmly. “Are you new to the area?” Sailor shook her head. “Just to the job,” she lied smoothly. “I’m Tim’s child attendant.” “She’s my friend, and my Daddy’s friend,” Tim said, nodding his head wisely. Sailor touched his head. “Saying that, I need to get back to work. You okay, sport?” Tim nodded, already running off with Harry as the school bell rang. “Thanks for the ride, Sailor, see you later.”

Sailor nodded to Diane and with some relief, got back in the car and drove back to the compound.

B ODHI WAS on the phone when she entered, putting his keys down on the kitchen counter. He grinned up at her. “Hey, she’s here, I’m going to put you on speaker phone.” He flicked a button and Sailor heard Soleil greeting her. “Hey girl, I hear you’re off the market?” Sailor blushed but laughed. “Apparently. How are you, Soleil?” “Call me Solly and I’m good, thanks. I’m in Italy at the moment, but back in L.A. on the weekend to start our little ploy.” “You sure you’re okay with this?” Sailor gave Bodhi a nervous glance. “Hell, yes, I’m delighted. About time someone of quality tickled Bodhi’s pickle. I will obviously have to give you the ‘if you hurt him blah blah blah talk.’” Sailor laughed. ‘Obviously, I would expect nothing less. Thank you, Solly, you’re the best.” “Yes, yes, I am,” laughed the other woman. “I’ll

see you two crazy kids on the weekend.” She clicked off, and then Bodhi grinned at Sailor. “She’s in. This is happening.” Suddenly Sailor started to tremble. This man, this gorgeous man, was hers. How could that be possible? “Sailor.” Bodhi came to her, gently pulling her into his arms. “It’s me and you now, okay?” She nodded, gazing up into his achingly beautiful face. His lips were against hers then. “I’m going to take you to my bed now, Sailor King…work can wait…” and he led her into his bedroom.

“ARE

YOU SURE ?”

Diane nodded. “I mean, she had her hair up, but I’m pretty sure. Those doe-eyes are unmistakable.” Bartholomew Foy was pleased. “Thank you, Diane, you have proved most helpful.” Diane smiled at him and left the room, closing the door behind her. Bart looked at Salem, who was grinning nastily. They had flown to L.A. as soon as the call from Diane, one of the highest members of

the Californian chapter of The Children of Love, had called in the sighting. “So, Sailor’s working for Bodhi Creed? Well, well, well.” Salem chuckled. “Should be easy enough to find and kill her if she’s bringing the kid to school every day.” “Indeed.” Bart was lost in thought. “But I have a better idea. Sailor betrayed us all, so it’s only right that we make her suffer before I kill her. This Creed asshole…what do we know?” Salem sighed. Sometimes his boss truly was clueless about the world outside the sect. “He’s untouchable, boss. He has a compound up in the Hollywood Hills, security guards, the whole shebang. When Sailor’s there, she’ll be untouchable too.” Bart tapped his chin with his finger. “Is she fucking him, I wonder?” “Sailor?” Salem looked skeptical. “I doubt it.” “We’ll soon find out if she is. Until then…maybe we should keep a low profile. Our contact at the passport office said her name is Sarah Halls now. See where ‘Sarah Halls’ uses her credit card, plot out a timetable of what she does, and when she does it. See if we can’t get a mole on Creed’s

security team.” “Will do. Boss, what’s your end game here?” Bart laughed softly. “Haven’t I made it obvious? Sailor, my beautiful precious Sailor, doesn’t get to see her twenty-sixth birthday.”

SAILOR SAT in the cab with Bodhi as the vehicle moved through the crowded streets of San Francisco. They were on their way to Quartet’s SF office, and Sailor was so excited that she thought she might throw up any minute. Her good mood rubbed off on Bodhi, who held her hand as they traveled. “You do know that Bay won’t be there, today, right?” Sailor grinned at him. “Spoilsport. But I would have met her by osmosis, been in the same room of some of her friends.” “Groupie.” “You know it.” She giggled as he kissed her. At the airy and minimalistic offices, they were shown to the boardroom, and soon after, a smiling blonde woman came in, casually but expensively dressed in designer jeans and a gorgeous lilac top. She shook both their hands and introduced herself

as Emily Moore to Sailor. “Bodhi has already raved about you,” she said, sitting down, “so this will be a piece of cake.” Sailor smiled at her. “I hope so…I’ve already told him Quartet is the best home for his music…but what do I know?” Bodhi chuckled. “She’s madly in love with Bay, so ignore her. She’s biased.” Emily laughed. “Well, Bay has that effect…and actually, you’re in luck. She’s in town at the moment, so if you’re both free for dinner tonight?” Sailor thought she might faint and Bodhi laughed. “We can be. Tim’s staying over at a friend’s tonight.” “Then it’s settled. Now, Dash is unfortunately tied up with another artist today, but Roman will be along to sweeten the deal in a while. Shall we start?”

AFTER A MORNING of discussing contracts and recording sessions, Sailor’s energy was high. Even though she knew so little, just listening to the passion with which Bodhi talked about music, and hearing the ways the company could benefit from Bodhi’s talent and input got her blood pumping.

Music had been her saving grace in the cult, her only way of escape, until she actually did escape, and it would always be a guiding force, but until now, she never dreamed she would actually be involved in the industry, especially as Bodhi’s assistant. Roman Ford joined them, eventually, and Sailor liked him immediately. He was a quiet, serious man, but when he smiled, she could see into his personality. She knew he was in a relationship with Kym Clayton, another member of the 9th and Pine and listened with interest when he spoke about the band and the company to Bodhi. “We absolutely are a family business here, Bodhi, we don’t take on anyone we don’t find to fit with our aesthetic. On the other hand, when we do spot that in an artist, we pursue them aggressively…as you’ve probably noticed from this one.” He nodded his head towards Emily who grinned, unrepentant. Bodhi laughed. “I had an inkling. Listen, I’ve been with Sony since the beginning, and I’m nothing if not loyal, but both they and I know it’s the end of our story together. I’ve not felt so motivated by a company’s attitude toward my work as I have today. I’m in if you’ll take me.” Roman smiled. “Good. Now, I hear you’re joining

us for dinner tonight?” Bodhi nodded, looking to Sailor who smiled broadly. “Absolutely. Hey, you know if we can get a hotel room around here on short notice?” Emily nodded. “It’s no problem.” She hesitated. “One or two rooms?” Sailor flushed bright red, and Bodhi smiled. “If the press asks…two. Between us, we’ll only need the one.” Emily’s smile was soft. “Gotcha.” She squeezed Sailor’s hand and then got up. “We’ll get that arranged right now so you can go rest up before dinner.” Sailor was suddenly panicked. “I don’t have any clothes or toiletries or spare under…” She trailed off, blushing furiously as Roman, trying to not grin, cleared his throat. Bodhi put his arm around her. “Sweetheart, we can go shopping, don’t worry about it.”

TWO HOURS LATER , in the penthouse suite of their hotel, Sailor groaned. “I looked like such a hillbilly.”

Bodhi was grinning as he dumped their shopping bags on the bed. “You did not…it was adorable.” She groaned, and he pulled her into his arms. “Sailor…they loved you. I think they liked you better than they liked me. I know I do.” She chuckled. “You’re just saying that.” “Uh-uh.” He shook his head then covered her mouth with his. “And now, I get to do this…” He slid his hand under her t-shirt and stroked her belly, and she sighed, putting her hand down to cup his cock through his pants. “You’re so hard.” Bodhi grinned, his lips curving up against hers. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day, your sweet, tight little cunt enveloping my cock, the way your beautiful face blushes that gorgeous pink when you cum…” Sailor moaned, her heart beating overtime. “Fuck me against the wall, Bodhi, take me hard…” “What have I turned you into?” he sighed in mock seriousness, but made her giggle as he pressed her against the wall and hiked her skirt up to her hips. “And now that we have a good supply of new underwear…” He yanked her panties hard, and she gasped as they tore from her and he dropped to his knees and buried his face in her sex. “God, you

taste good.” He brought her to an orgasm before plunging his cock deep inside her and fucking her hard against the wall, his groans almost growl-like in his need to have her. Sailor bit down on his shoulder, driven completely wild by him. How had she stayed a virgin so long? But tonight, now, she was so desperately glad she had. She would never want more than this, this gorgeous man. She felt him cum, shooting deep inside her and kissed him fiercely. He carried her, her legs still wrapped around his waist and laid her on the bed, obviously admiring her body. He made her feel like the sexiest, most desirable woman in the world and she stretched her body out so he could enjoy her breasts moving, her belly, her legs. In turn, she let her eyes roam over his solid body, the hard pecs, the strong arms. His dark curls were messy, he had an inch of beard, and his big green eyes with their long, thick lashes met hers. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. She spread her legs slowly, and he grinned, dropping onto the bed, his arms either side of her head. “Don’t ever move from this place,” he said softly, “You’re perfect.”

God, she wanted to tell him that she was in love with him, but it was way, way too soon for that. But it was true. She knew it bone-deep. She was in love with Bodhi Creed.

SAILOR NEARLY KEELED over as Bay Tambe, obviously very pregnant, but radiant with beauty, hugged her. “It’s so good to meet you,” the other woman told her and grinned. “Here, sit next to me, I think Tomas is getting tired of me.” Tomas Meir, another one of Quartet’s CEO’s, and Bay’s husband rolled his eyes. “Yup, I often get tired of you, Bubba. That’s how you got in that condition.” He grinned at his wife and sat on her other side, his hand stroking her back. Sailor smiled, a little nervous. Bay Tambe was a superstar now, the lead singer of the 9th and Pine, but as the meal progressed, she couldn’t be more down to earth. Sailor was even more in love by the time Bay excused herself to go to the bathroom. “She looks so well,” Bodhi said to Tomas, who smiled, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Dash, Emily’s boyfriend, a very pretty young man frowned. “What is it, Tom?” Tim sighed, and Sailor suddenly noticed the strain on his face. “Stu Lawson just escaped from prison

today.” Emily gave a distressed gasp. “God, no…how the hell did that happen?” Tomas nodded, his eyes heavy. “The police won’t tell me anymore details than that. They’ve kept it out of the press for their own reasons… and I haven’t told Bay, yet.” Sailor didn’t know what they were talking about. She looked at Bodhi, who gave her a slight shake of his head and bent his head to whisper in her ear. “I’ll tell you later.” Emily was speaking to Tom. “Did you ever tell her about the letters?” Tom shook his head, then looked up and smiled as Bay came back to the table. She seemed to notice the change in atmosphere. “What’s up?” Tom grinned. “Nothing, it’s just we missed you.” Bay laughed, and Dash pretended to gag. Bay swatted his head, but seemed satisfied with Tom’s answer. He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, and Sailor saw the love in his eyes. It was the same way Bodhi looked at her. God, am I projecting? Is it because I so desperately want him to love me? She felt Bodhi’s hand close around

hers. As they left the restaurant, Bay took Sailor’s cell phone and programmed her own number in. “Call me, anytime, Sailor. I mean it.”

B ACK AT THE HOTEL, Bodhi poured them both some champagne. “A few years ago, when the band had first signed to Quartet, they had a manager called Stu Lawson. He was Kym’s boyfriend at the time, and he was abusive…he beat her, constantly. He and Bay always had a fractious relationship. Long story short, Kym left him, Bay fired him…and Stu shot Bay three times and left her for dead. He abducted and almost killed Kym too. Bay nearly didn’t make it.” Sailor was shocked to her core. “God, I had no idea.” Bodhi half-smiled. “You really were sheltered, huh?” Sailor nodded. “We were only allowed certain news, and now I think about it…the only crime stories we were ever allowed to know about were the ones either committed by a woman (to show us how evil we were as a gender) or by men who said that the woman drove him to it.”

Bodhi looked angry. “Jesus. Seriously, Sails, if I ever get my hands on Bart Foy…” She took his hand. “I don’t want to talk about him. Not after such a lovely day.” Bodhi leaned over and kissed her. “Good plan, it has been a great day…and it’s about to get better. Let’s take this champagne to bed.”

B ODHI TOOK A SWIG OF CHAMPAGNE, then holding it in his mouth, he clamped his mouth on Sailor’s clit, feeling the bubbles fizz against her. Sailor gasped at the sensation, and Bodhi felt his cock respond, becoming almost painfully hard as he circled his tongue around her clit, his fingers digging hard into the flesh of her hips to keep her steady while he licked, and sucked and bit gently on the hardening bud. He was relentless, not letting her rest until she came, hard, screaming his name and as she was still coming, he thrust his cock deep inside her, pinning her hands to the bed above her head, his eyes intense on hers as they fucked. “You are my world, Sailor, my world…” He meant every word too, and when he came, and she was almost crying from multiple orgasms, he gathered her to him and kissed her tenderly.

When she had finally fallen asleep in his arms, Bodhi Creed made a decision. He thought about how Tom had looked in the restaurant, telling them that his lover’s life may once again be in danger. It was how he had felt when Sailor told him that if Bart Foy found her, she would be a dead woman. That wasn’t going to happen. Because if they ever came near Sailor again, Bodhi Creed was going to take Bart Foy and The Children of Love down.

TIM SQUINTED at Sailor as she sat at the edge of the pool, a stack of paperwork and her laptop beside her. “Sails, when are you going to stop working and come play with us?” Sailor grinned at him. Bodhi was trying to teach Tim to swim, but, apparently, they both found her way too distracting. “When I’m done, impatient boy. Boys,” she added, grinning at Tim’s father who was eyeing her lasciviously. “Timbo, when you can swim and entire length without your Dad holding your swim trunks, I’ll come in.” “A whole length? Come on,” Tim groaned, flopping backward in the water and pouting. It had been a month since their trip to San Francisco, and every

day, as far as Sailor was concerned, her life got better. Tim and Bodhi were really bonding now, and since Bodhi had started teaching Tim to swim, in between fooling around, Tim was gaining confidence. Sailor was staying most nights at the guesthouse now, most of her stuff had naturally migrated over from the tiny studio apartment. Bodhi had asked, on one of his nightly visits to her bed, why she didn’t give up the apartment. Sailor had grinned and told him, “Because I like that I have the choice where to sleep. It means a lot to me.” And Bodhi got it, and never once tried to persuade her to give the studio up. Every minute they spent in bed, Sailor began to feel more feminine, more confident, Bodhi worshiped her body as if he couldn’t have any other woman in the world, when clearly, he could. It still blew Sailor’s mind. And she loved working for him, with him, she corrected, as Bodhi had insisted they were a partnership, not boss/employee. Getting more involved with organizing his next tour, not for a year or so or until Tim was completely settled, he’d insisted. Talking to Emily, and often, Bay, too, Sailor began to feel as if she were growing competent in his world too. She loved chatting with

both women, and sometimes Tom, who would call out things when Bay had her on speaker phone, mostly making fun of his ‘huge’ wife. Bay was close to giving birth now with their third child. Bay and Tom’s twin daughters, Esme and Milly, were already five and causing their parent's hair to turn gray, Bay claimed, but Sailor could hear the love in her voice. Bay told her that she had some experience with rockstar parents, Kym’s mother and father were Charlie and Mac Clayton, who were huge in the Eighties and weren’t present for most of Kym’s childhood. It affected Kym’s confidence to a large degree, Bay told Sailor. “I sometimes think it was the reason she stayed with Stu for so long,” Bay told her, and Sailor was surprised that she was so open about the man who had tried to kill her. “Bodhi told me what happened. I’m so sorry, Bay.” Bay sighed, “It was a long time ago, Sails. I’m not saying I’ll ever forget it, but it’s behind me.” Sailor hesitated. “I have some experience with abusive men.” “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it?”

And to her amazement, Sailor told Bay everything, about Tilly, about her mother, about Bart. Bay was shocked, and Sailor could hear how upset she was, even over the phone. “Oh god, Sails, I’m so sorry.” “Thank you, but I only told you because…I want to be there for you if you ever need someone who knows, you know?” She heard Bay stifle a sob. “Forgive me, Sails, my hormones are making me emotional. Thank you, though, and I hope it goes without saying, the same goes for you. Anytime.” Sailor heard a young girl’s voice then, “Momma, why are you crying?” “Baby hormones, sweeties. Go find your sister, and I’ll make you a snack. Esme,” Bay said to Sailor, “Seriously that girl is the reincarnation of Sherlock Holmes, never misses a trick. I’m hoping the snack will distract her from telling Tom I was crying. Always worked for me,” Bay chuckled, and Sailor was glad to hear her more cheerful. “Food is the way to go, always,” she agreed, and after they had said goodbye, she went into the kitchen to make Tim a snack for when he got home. More and more, she had fallen into the role of

‘mother’ and she found she liked it. Sometimes, she had to remind herself that she wasn’t his mom, that he had a real mom who still called him every week, still loved him. So, she had to be careful, but, god, she adored the kid, and he, in turn, clearly adored her. She heard Bodhi calling for her and went to find him. He was in the bedroom, trying to decide on a tie. Tonight was the first time he was on a ‘date’ with Soleil, an arts benefit in Hollywood, and now Sailor admired him in a suit. “God, you’re a handsome man,” she grinned up at him. “Go with the blue. It brings out the green in those eyes of yours.” He grinned at her and kissed her, picking up the blue tie. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with Tim, alone here?” She helped him put on the tie. “Hell yes. We’re going to eat MSG and watch R-rated movies all night. Then we’ll play with your guitars at full volume, wake the neighbors.” Bodhi laughed. “You are a bad, bad girl.” Sailor started to sing Fiona Apple’s ‘Criminal.’ “I’ve been a bad, bad girl, I’ve been careless with a delicate man…”

She danced around as he tried to grab her. Eventually, he got hold of her and kissed her. “And you can sing, dammit. How come you never told me?” She snorted. “Yeah, if I had a ton of auto-tune.” “No, seriously, sing some more for me.” Sailor stuck out her tongue and then sang ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ deliberately out of key. Bodhi laughed, shaking his head. “Well played. But we will be returning to this topic.” “Ha. You’d have to get me good and drunk before I sing for ya, big guy.” “So, you’re telling me,” Bodhi sat on the bed, “that you’ll let me fuck you in any way I want, but you won’t sing for me?” Sailor kissed him. “Yup. Talking of fucking…” “I have turned you into a nympho,” Bodhi said, but he was already unzipping his fly and pushing her panties aside. Sailor gasped as he plunged his cock into her. “Good god, Bodhi, you are always so hard, god, that’s good, that’s good…”

SOLEIL HUGGED SAILOR . “Now look, if you see photos of us kissing, just remember a) I’ll be pretending it’s you, and b) I’ll be throwing up almost immediately afterward.” Sailor laughed out loud as Bodhi rolled his eyes. “Stop hitting on my girlfriend, Solly.” Soleil grinned widely, and Sailor gave Bodhi a mock-severe look. “No, don’t stop hitting on his girlfriend, Solly.” She grabbed Soleil and landed a big kiss on her soft lips. Soleil was shocked at first then laughed. Bodhi groaned. “Now I have to go out…covering.” He gestured to his very obvious erection, pushing the fabric of his pants out, then hurriedly covering it as Tim came into the kitchen. “You’re right, Sailor, The Hills Have Eyes is on Netflix.” He said, nonchalantly then giggled when Bodhi’s eyes bugged out. “Chill, Dad, we’re just teasing you.” “You see what I have to put up with?” Bodhi said to Solly, who was cackling with laughter. “Come on, Sol, before these two drive me crazy.”

SAILOR AND TIM had a great evening, lounging on Bodhi’s huge sofas, chatting and watching one of Sailor’s favorite movies, Clueless. Sailor explained to Tim that it was a modern version of Jane Austen’s Emma. Tim looked blank, and Sailor rolled her eyes. “Don’t they teach you anything at that school? Wait a sec,” and she went over to her guesthouse, her home now, and grabbed a copy of the book from her shelf. As she was walking back to the main house, she heard someone call her name and turned. It was Udo, one of Bodhi’s security team. “Everything alright, Ms. Halls?” They had agreed she would be ‘Sarah Halls’ to everyone except those very close to them. Sailor smiled at him. “Yes, thanks, Udo, just grabbing a book for Tim.” Udo nodded. “Have a good night, ma’am.” “Thanks, Udo.” Tim was waiting by the glass door, and she handed him the book. “There you go. You have any problems reading it, let me know.” Tim thanked her, but he seemed distracted. “You okay, slugger?” She put a hand on his dark head. “I don’t like that guy.”

“Who? Udo?” Tim nodded. “He gives me the creeps.” Sailor frowned and closed the door behind her. “Let’s go sit, Timbo.” When they were back on the couch, Sailor studied the boy. “Why don’t you like him? Has he said or done anything to you?” Sailor’s heart was in her mouth. “Because if he has, you can tell me or your dad and we’ll make things right, darling. You never have to worry about him again. Has anything happened?” Tim shook his head. “No. Nothing like that…it’s just, he looks at you, and I don’t like it.” “He looks at me?” Tim looked away, his face flushing. “He thinks you’re pretty.” Sailor, relieved, hid a grin. “Well, he has terrible taste, what can you do? Don’t worry about it, buddy.” Tim didn’t look satisfied with that. “Sailor?” “Yeah, babe?” Tim hesitated for a moment. “Are you my Daddy’s girlfriend?”

Sailor felt a rush of heat on her face, but she nodded. “Yes, darling, I am. But it’s a secret, you know? Because otherwise people and the papers will never leave us alone. Auntie Solly is pretending to be your Dad’s girlfriend to fool them. So, if you don’t mind, don’t tell anyone that your Dad and I are together, please. Do you think you can do that?” Tim nodded. “Sure.” He smiled. “I am glad you’re his girlfriend, Sailor, I love you.” Sailor felt tears in her eyes. “I love you too, buddy.” She gave him a high-five. “Now, what film shall we watch next?”

B ODHI KISSED SOLEIL’ S CHEEK . “Thanks for tonight, Solly, you really are the best.” Soleil grinned, her beautiful face lighting up. “Any chance for shenanigans, you know me. Hey, listen…for what it’s worth, I adore Sailor. She’s the one for you, I know it in my bones. Don’t fuck it up.” Bodhi chuckled softly. “I know and don’t worry. There’s no way.” Solly studied him. “You’re already in love, aren’t you?”

He nodded, completely unfazed. “Entirely. My family is complete, I have no doubt.” Solly hugged him. “I’m so glad. Listen, I have a very, very pretty nurse waiting for me at my hotel so if you don’t mind…” “Listen, in a couple of weeks we’re flying out to Florence…wanna ride?” Solly nodded. “Claudio’s already invited me. Hell yes, saves me flying business class with the manspreading douchebags. Call me in the morning.” “I will. And thanks again for tonight.” “No problem. Goodnight.” She grinned at him and got into her Mercedes. “Go in there and screw a gorgeous girl. I know that’s what I’m going to do tonight.” Bodhi was still laughing when he waved her off, then strolled down to the security guard’s cabin. He stuck his head in the door. “Hey, Udo, you got stuck with night duty this week, huh?” Udo smiled. “I did, Mr. Creed. All’s quiet this evening.” “Thanks, Udo. And call me Bodhi for god sake. I’m already feeling old. Mr. Creed was my Dad.”

“Yes, sir.” “Udo.” “Sorry. Yes, Bodhi.” Bodhi grinned. “Good man. Goodnight.” “Night.”

B ODHI WALKED into the house to find Sailor and Tim asleep on the couch, Sailor’s arms around the boy and his head resting on her shoulder. Bodhi couldn’t help taking a sneaky photo, they looked so adorable. The flash didn’t wake Tim, but Sailor opened an eye and grinned. “Sorry,” Bodhi whispered, bending to kiss her, “I couldn’t resist. Which gives me an idea…but perhaps we should put Tim to bed first.” Sailor smiled, and Bodhi lifted Tim into his arms and carried him to bed. Tim didn’t even stir. “I slipped him a Mickey,” Sailor whispered, with a grin, “He should be out for a while.” Bodhi chuckled at her joke. “He takes after his pa; I could sleep like that when I was young.” “Not now?”

He turned to her and stroked her face. “I have better things to do than sleep nowadays.” He brushed his lips against hers lightly. “Stay with me tonight, in my bed.” Sailor tangled her fingers in his dark curls. “Tim knows about us. He asked me outright if I was your girlfriend, and I told him I was. He seemed to be happy about it.” Bodhi grinned down at her. “Another way he takes after his dad. So, you’ll stay? It’s time Tim gets used to you being here full time.” Sailor nodded, and Bodhi led her to his room, closing the door behind him. Luckily his room was on the other side of the house to Tim’s. Sailor pushed his Tuxedo jacket from his shoulders. “I almost don’t want you to take this off,” she said, her eyes lazy with desire, “You make it look better than any other man in the world.” Bodhi shrugged back into the jacket, and she giggled. Bodhi slid his hands under her shirt. “Then how about I stay dressed in this, and you, you beautiful girl, are the only one naked when I fuck you? Would that turn you on?” Her breath hitched in her throat, and she nodded, her eyes excited. Bodhi ran his hands down her

arms. “And how about I take this tie off and bind your hands behind you? Then you’ll really be under my control?” He saw her nipples harden through her t-shirt and knew he was turning her on. Her cheeks flushed pink, and he slowly pulled her t-shirt over her head. Pulling down each lacy cup, he suckled at her nipples until she moaned, removed her bra, then her jeans and panties. He made no move to touch her clit or her pussy, instead, stroking her belly, the underside of her breasts, her throat. He pulled the tie from his neck, took first one hand, then the other, pressing his lips against the soft inside of her wrists before binding her hands gently behind her. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Too tight?” Sailor shook her head. “No. Tighter.” He grinned then tugged the tie taut. She gave a little cry, but smiled to show him she liked the quick pain. “God, you’re incredible…” He took her face in his hands and kissed her mouth passionately until they were both breathless. “I want to do everything with you,” she whispered. “Everything. I’m yours, Bodhi Creed. Show me the

ways to love you…” Bodhi growled, his cock rigid and straining through his pants. “Sweet torture,” he said, and she nodded. “Beauty, I’d like to photograph your body, your breasts, your soft belly, your sweet cunt….is that something you would allow?” She nodded, and he smiled gratefully. “You are out of this world. I’m going to lay you down.” He swept her onto her back. “Is that hurting your arms?” “I like it,” she said, and there was no doubt in her voice. “I want to suck you, Bodhi, I want to taste you.” He grinned. “In time, I’m going to photograph you first. Would you like me to be naked now?” She nodded eagerly, and he laughed as he stripped quickly. His long, thick cock stood rampant against his belly, and he fisted the root of it as he grabbed his camera. “All of this is for you, Sailor, all of it.” Sailor spread her legs for him as he began to take photos of her, close-ups of her lips, her nipples, her navel, her cunt, red and swollen for him, and glistening with arousal. Bodhi took his time, his erection never fading, obviously enjoying their games. “God, you’re so beautiful, Sailor King…the

most beautiful sight in this world…open wider for me baby, I want to taste you.” Finally putting the camera down, he crawled between her legs and then his mouth was on her clit, his tongue lashing around it, tasting every drop of her arousal, her desire for him, teasing the tiny bud until she was writhing and moaning underneath him. “I want to taste you, Bodhi, please.” Bodhi looked up. “Want to do it at the same time?” She nodded, and he turned her onto her side, and himself in the other direction so she could take his straining cock into her mouth. The feel of her sweet, warm mouth enveloping him was insanely thrilling. She seemed to know instinctively what to do, trailing her tongue up and down his shaft, teasing the tip until he was almost driven crazy. She hollowed out her cheeks sucking on him as he tormented her clit with his tongue, and they both came hard, almost simultaneously, shuddering and gasping, Sailor swallowing his seed down eagerly. Bodhi turned around so he could kiss her mouth, freeing her hands as he did so. “God, Bodhi…” Sailor was almost crying with pleasure, tears on her cheeks and he kissed each one away before his lips found hers.

“Sailor King…do you have any idea how deeply in love with you I am?” Sailor sobbed now, happy tears. “God, Bodhi, I love you too, so much, so much…” Bodhi smoothed the damp hair away from her lovely face, his own hair messy around his head. Her face was flush, her lips parted as she gasped for air and he smiled. “And that was only the beginning, darling…we could do so much more.”

B ODHI’ S COCK was hardening again and he moved on top of her, dipping his head to kiss her breasts, the valley between them, the nipples, then her throat before returning to her lips as his cock slid into her. He was so hard, so big that he filled her cunt entirely, and Sailor moaned at the feel of him. He loved her. He loved her. She could have died right there the happiest woman in the world, but now his cock was reaming her so hard, she was very glad she hadn’t. His hands pinning hers above her head, his gaze locked onto hers as they fucked, and Sailor was still amazed that she felt so uninhibited and confident in his arms. He made her cum again and again until finally, when they were both exhausted, he collapsed at her side, both panting for air.

“Sailor King, I swear, I never want to move from your side.” She wriggled into his awaiting arms and kissed him. “I love you.” “As I love you, beautiful. God…can we just do this all the time?” She laughed softly. “Wouldn’t be appropriate in front of Tim, I think.” Bodhi kissed her forehead. “When he’s older, he would understand.” “Not sure Family Services would.” They both laughed. “You may have a point. So, he knows we’re together?” She nodded and grinned, a little shy. “He told me he loved me too.” Bodhi pretended annoyance. “Dang, he beat me to it? His game is strong.” Sailor laughed then kissed him. “I’m so tired, but if you have one more round in you, slugger, I might be good to go.” Bodhi grinned. “Sexy talk, I like it.” Sailor straddled him, and he cupped her breasts as she

impaled herself on his cock and began to ride him. “You make me the happiest guy in the world, Sailor.” She grinned down at him. “Good. Now shut up and fuck me, Creed.” And laughing, he obeyed her.

SOLEIL KISSED the by-now very sore mouth of Hedda, her date, and got up to go to the bathroom. She paused in the doorway, knowing the light from the bathroom would silhouette her perfect shape and looked back over her shoulder. “Don’t you dare move.” Hedda smiled. God, Soleil was gorgeous and a mind-blowing lover. She wondered how many men had set their sights on the beautiful art dealer only to be crushed when they found out she was gay. Hedda waited until Soleil closed the bathroom door before she grabbed her cellphone and tapped out a quick message. She’s here. In a second, the reply came back. Good. Stay close. Hedda smiled and dropped the phone back into her

purse. When Soleil returned, Hedda pressed her lips to hers, and they began to make love again. Hedda hoped that Bartholomew Foy only wanted Soleil to get to Sailor and Bodhi. She really hoped that Soleil wouldn’t be considered a loose end. She was such an amazing fuck, and it would be such a shame.

SAILOR ’ S EXCITEMENT about flying across the Atlantic Ocean was infectious. Both Bodhi and Tim were grinning as she gaped out of the jet window at the ocean below. “How come you’ve never gone on holiday abroad, Sailor? Did your mom and dad not take you?” Sailor and Bodhi exchanged a look then Sailor smiled at Tim. “No, pumpkin…I didn’t have parents, I lived in a kind of…um…special place, where kids without parents sometimes grow up.” Tim looked thoughtful. “Like a children’s home?” Sailor hesitated. “Something like that.” “Hey, kiddo,” Bodhi rescued her, “Who do you think Auntie Solly is on the phone too for this long?”

Tim grinned as Soleil, cell phone clamped to her ear, stuck out her tongue. “One of her girlfriends,” Tim said wisely, but Solly shook her head, giving him a smile, but holding up a finger to ask for a moment more. Sailor sat back into Bodhi’s arms and felt him press his lips to her temple. They were on the way to Italy to stay with Solly’s brother, Claudio, Bodhi’s best friend. Claudio was an artist and worked mainly from a farmhouse in the middle of the Tuscan countryside. Bodhi’s mother, despairing that Bodhi preferred music to art as he grew up, had mentored Claudio from a young age and now they frequently collaborated. While Vittoria Creed was mainly retired now, Claudio’s stock was rising fast in the art world, mainly thanks to his sister’s tireless work on his behalf. Claudio liked art, his friends and screwing, he didn’t like networking. Soleil handled that side things; arranging exhibitions, making sure Claudio’s name was on everyone’s lips. Sailor couldn’t wait until they landed. She’d never dreamed she’d be going to Europe, even after she’d escaped the cult, she had thought it an impossible goal; she hadn’t anticipated she would fall in love with a billionaire. Money was the one thing she was uncomfortable

with in her relationship with Bodhi. He had continued to pay her salary, and frequent huge bonuses, even after they had become a couple, and Sailor didn’t know how she felt about that. When Bodhi had told her he had put her name on his bank account, she got scared. “Bodhi, no, it’s too much, too soon.” But he wouldn’t hear any argument. “It’s just money, Sails. There’s so many more important things in life, like how much I love you. Money doesn’t come into it.” That’s because you have it, Sailor had thought, but stayed silent. She had talked to Bay Tambe about knowing, knowing she had married the already rich Tom Meir. Bay had sympathized. “Girl, believe me, I know how you feel. It went against all my sensibilities to accept that Tom was rich and by default then, so was I. It never goes away, but I found little ways to try and equalize the balance. When the girls came along, that all shifted to the back of my mind, I didn’t care how much we spent on them, I wanted to give them the best start. That being said, they still have to do chores for pocket money, and we’ve tried to teach them the value of money. They’re pretty sensible, they take after Tom, like that.”

Sailor had laughed. “I’d love to meet them one day.” “You definitely will.” Sailor heard Bay shift and groaned a little. “You okay?” Bay laughed. “Yep, just the size of a house. Any day now, this little slugger’s going to make an appearance.” “Excited?” “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

SAILOR THOUGHT ABOUT B AY NOW , knowing by the time they got back from their month in Italy, Bay would have had the baby. Bodhi nudged her. “Spacing out?” She grinned up at him. “Thinking about Bay. You know that saying ‘you should never meet your heroes?’ She disapproves that theory. And then there’s you.” She kissed his mouth gently. “You were my hero the moment I met you, Bodhi Creed.” His eyes were soft with love. “And you were mine, Sails.” He bent his head and put his mouth next to

her ear. “You know, Claudio has made up a bedroom for us in a converted workshop at the far end of his property. Very secluded, and almost soundproof. You have no idea of the things I’m going to do to you there.” Sailor shivered with pleasure, feeling her libido flare up with desire. She shot a glance at Tim and Solly, but they were both deep in conversation with each other. “And I,” she said in a low, sultry voice, “have brought some toys we can play with.” Bodhi’s eyes widened. “Naughty girl.” Sailor grinned. “I am what you made me, Creed.”

I T WAS LATE by the time their town car pulled up outside the farmhouse and Claudio Fonseca came to meet them. Sailor watched as first Solly hugged her brother, then he and Bodhi gave each other a bear hug. Bodhi introduced him to Sailor and Tim, who smiled shyly. Claudio was a stunningly handsome man, tanned skin, dark hazel eyes, shaggy dark hair. Not as tall as Bodhi (nor, in Sailor’s opinion, as gorgeous), he nevertheless towered over her and Tim and when he picked the sleepy Tim up, Tim cuddled him as if he’d known him forever and Sailor saw a little surprise in Bodhi’s eyes.

lettuce, tomato on the crusty bread and slathering it in mayo. Sailor almost drooled at the sight. Bodhi’s hand was stroking her back as he chatted away with Claudio, sometimes dropping into Italian when Claudio, whose English wasn’t as good as his sister’s, looked confused. It was past midnight when they were finally shown their bedroom, and Sailor grinned when she saw it. It looked like somewhere from a different century, rustic to the extreme. It had been remodeled from an old outbuilding, one large room with a small kitchen and bathroom fitted, large open windows that were shuttered. A huge bed draped in white mosquito netting was at one end. A night stand, which consisted of an old metal table with flaking paint, was stuffed with books, and on top, an oldstyle lamp with filaments on top. Sailor sighed happily. “This is beautiful,” she said and went to study one of Claudio’s abstracts that hung in the living area. A riot of colors and shapes and Sailor found it magnetic. Claudio came to stand beside her as Bodhi lugged their suitcases into the bedroom. Claudio studied Sailor. “You like?” She nodded. “Very much. I don’t know why, but it makes me happy to see all those colors, especially the ones that should clash, next to each other.”

Claudio nodded, pleased. “That’s what I intended. I sincerely believe that color can help with mental health or even just improve your mood.” Sailor smiled at him. “You’ve certainly achieved that, Claudio, and not just in this painting. This whole place is…a reminder. Of simplicity, of beauty. I can’t imagine anyone being unhappy here.” Claudio touched her arm. “Thank you, that means a lot. Now,” he looked up as Bodhi joined them, “I’ll leave you two alone. You need anything, just call or help yourself. See you in the morning.”

W HEN THEY WERE ALONE, Bodhi kissed Sailor tenderly. “You tired, baby?” She nodded but looked up into his eyes with her own soft look and full of desire. “I am…but I might need a nightcap before I’m able to fully relax, you know?” Bodhi got her meaning immediately and grinned. “Well,” he said, lifting her into his arms and carrying he to the bed, “Let’s see what sort of nightcap I can offer you.” He stripped her and, not wanting to wait, he tugged her legs around his waist and pushed inside her.

They made love slowly, not wanting to break the spell of this warm summer night and afterward, fell asleep in each other’s arms.

B AY SHOOK Tom’s shoulder gently. “Tom? Babe?” Tom blinked his eyes open to see her standing by the bed, and she grinned at him, pointing at her belly. “We have lift off.” They called Kym and Roman to come look after the girls, while Tom took his wife to the hospital. As they chatted easily in the car, neither noticed the beat-up Camaro following them. Tom had insisted that she have a birthing suite at the best private hospital and Bay didn’t argue. Just like she told Sailor, when it came to their children, she wanted the best. The nurses and midwives greeted them like old friends, after Esme and Milly had been born, Tom had given the maternity wards a huge donation, so relieved that the birth had gone smoothly. They had been worried that since Bay’s shooting, she might not be able to carry to fullterm, but now, as they waited for the birth of their son, Bay had proved again that she was invincible. As the nurses performed tests and doctor examined her, Tom stroked her hair from her face. The

contractions were painful, but Bay had learned to breathe through them. She gripped his big hand tightly when one hit her. “Oww, oww, oww,” she grinned as her muscles cramped and her pelvis shifted. “Remind me again why we decided to have another?” Tom kissed masochists.”

her

forehead.

“Because

we’re

“Oh, right, yeah, that’s it…oh good, that one’s over.” Bay breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed back against the pillows. She seemed totally at ease with the amount of people examining her naked groin. The doctor looked up. “Well, you’re about halfway dilated,” he said, “So, hang on in there. Want an epidural?” Bay shook her head. “Like he said, we’re masochists.” It was hours, and in the morning, Tom went to call Kym and updated her and talk to the girls on the phone. Bay settled on the bed, trying to get comfortable. She closed her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t sleep because the contractions were getting closer, and trying to relax the rest of her body. Deep breathing helped immeasurably, and as she was focusing on it, she didn’t hear or see the

person, dressed in hospital scrubs with a face mask, who had slipped into her room.

STUART L AWSON GAZED down at the woman he had always been obsessed with, who he’d shot in cold blood all those years ago. If anything, the years had made Bay lovelier than ever and pregnancy certainly suited her. A shame he would have to kill her now. He grinned behind the mask. Who are you kidding? You’ve dreamed of this moment… He grasped the scalpel he’d stolen from the supply closet and drew it out of his pocket. He hesitated, not knowing where to stab her, to cut her throat or slash across her rounded belly. For once in his life, Stu did consider that he would be killing an unborn child…and it gave him pause. Another nurse nudged her way into the room, and started to chat with him. Bay opened her eyes and Stu turned away and left the room as quickly as he could. Damn it. But there was also a sense of relief. He didn’t want to kill the child. Bay, yes, he could kill her over and over again, with great enjoyment, but a baby? No. He would wait until the kid was born. She

would be here, unguarded for a couple of days at least after the birth.

STU CHANGED BACK into his clothes, keeping the scrubs in his backpack and went outside. As he lit a cigarette, he pulled out his phone and called the one number programmed into it. Bartholomew Foy answered with a curt. “Is she dead?” Stu felt stung. “No. I couldn’t do it with the kid inside her.” “Sentimental fool. We agreed you would kill Ms. Tambe as both a warning to Sailor and Creed, and as a thank you for us springing you from your incarceration, Mr. Lawson.” “And I will kill her, I swear. Just…the kid didn’t do anything to me.” Bart sighed. “Did you not consider that by killing them both, the impact would be greater?” “I don’t get how your Sailor girl will know it’s you, why she’s even connected to Bay.” “My sources tell me they are now friends. Sailor is very sensitive…when Bay Tambe dies, it will draw her out into the open.” Stu sighed. He couldn’t argue. He had no idea how

Bart Foy knew about him, or why he was helping him. It seemed tenuous to him…but then maybe Foy just like killing women. He could understand that. “Fine. But after Bay gives birth. Do you want me to kill Sailor for you?” “No. Sailor is mine,” Bart’s voice took on such a dark tone that even Stu shivered at it. He wouldn’t want to be Sailor King when Bart caught up with her. “For now, just make sure Bay Tambe is dead before the end of the week.” The phone went dead, and Stu sighed, glancing back up at the hospital, before trudging back to the car Bart had leased for him.

B UDDY TOMAS MEIR was born at eleven-thirteen a.m. the nest morning. An hour later, when they were alone and holding their son in her arms, Bay looked up at Tom with tears on her beautiful face, grinning widely. “He looks just like you.” Tom, close to tears himself, kissed her forehead then the baby’s. “Poor kid.” Buddy squirmed a little then yawned. Bay laughed. “Yep, definitely you, that was your patented ‘after Thanksgiving dinner yawn.’” Tom laughed and leaned his head against his wife’s.

“You did it again, Baijayanthi Tambe Meir. You have given me the world. I love you.” She smiled and pressed her lips to his. “Right back at you. Oh, hang on, I think he’s hungry.” Buddy was nudging at her breast and when Bay offered him her nipple, he took it and began to suck gently, never taking his eyes from his mother’s. Tom stroked Bay’s hair and she leaned into his touch. “Did you talk to the girls?” Tom nodded. “They’re so excited. I sent them a photo of Buddy and they already love him. Kym said she’ll bring them in once you get some rest. I think she’s told everybody in the world, I’ve already had so many messages. Sailor called from Italy and sent her love.” “Sweet girl.” Bay winced a little as Buddy sucked hard on her nipple. “Forgot how weird this feels.” Tom grinned at her, his expression mischievous, and she burst out laughing. “Dirty-minded boy. Believe me, you sucking on them is a lot different.” “I know how sweet they taste.” He kissed her softly. “God, I love you.” “And I love you, Tomas Meir. We really made it, huh?”

She didn’t see the wary look come into his eyes, and soon she was falling asleep herself, the baby satisfied and exhausted. With Tom’s hand stroking her hair, Bay drifted off, totally relaxed, overwhelmingly happy, with her beautiful son in her arms.

TOM WAITED until Bay was asleep then slipped from the room. He called Roman, asking if Kym was in the room with him. When Roman said no, Tom sighed. “Listen…I’m going to up Bay’s protection. We’ll be okay here at the hospital, I think, they have pretty good security, but when we take Buddy home…jeez, Roman, why did this have to happen now? Have you heard anything on Lawson’s whereabouts?” “No, I’m sorry, Tom, my detectives haven’t found anything. It’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the Earth.” Roman sighed. “Have you told Bay?” “No, and I don’t want her to be stressed at a time like this.” “Tom, I’m not sure that’s the right decision. Bay’s a strong woman; if she finds out Stu is out and you knew…one thing does strike me. I think he has help on the outside.”

That brought Tom to attention. “What?” “I don’t know, it’s just Lawson isn’t the brightest button, it’s very hard for someone to disappear so easily without help.” “Who the hell would aid that asshole? He had noone on the outside except Kym, back in the day and she’d hardly help him.” Roman was silent for a moment. “Did you read the letters?” “From Lawson’s cell? Yes. I really wished I hadn’t, his bloodlust for my wife is what keeps me up nights. For someone as dim as Lawson, he sure has a varied imagination when it comes to the many ways he would like to murder Bay. God, even saying that makes me want to throw up.” “He won’t get near her, Tom, I swear it.” “Keep my girl’s safe, won’t you?” “Do you even have to ask? Concentrate on Bay and Buddy, man, we’ve got this.”

SAILOR WAS TREMBLING SO MUCH that Bodhi had to take her hands in his. He smiled down at her as they watched the small car wind its way up the hill

to the farmhouse, creating a dust storm behind it. “Baby, it’s just my mom, not The Grim Reaper.” Sailor wasn’t comforted. “What if she hates me on sight? Worse, what if she hates Tim? What if she thinks I’m using you both?” Bodhi rolled his eyes. “She won’t, you know why? Because you’re not. She can see the truth of things, beautiful girl, I swear. As for her hating Tim…he’s my son. I guarantee half of that car’s trunk will be full of gifts for him. She loves me, she’ll love my family.” Sailor blushed with pleasure, but still grumbled. “Momma’s boy.” Bodhi laughed as he led her from their little hideout and out into the yard to meet his mother. “You betcha.” Vittoria Creed stepped from the car and immediately Sailor felt herself relax. A petite woman, slim-framed, with a short, stylish white hair cut, and glasses on her nose, she had a kind face, and a ready smile. Vittoria hugged her son and smiled down at her grandson as he shook her hand, shyly but seriously. She turned towards her car and whistled, and a large dog bounded out of the car and over to them. He was so large that Tim took a

step back, but the dog sniffed him and licked his face, making Tim laugh. “And Mom, this is Sailor. Sailor, my mom, Vittoria.” Sailor could see Vittoria sizing her up with the same huge green eyes that she had passed onto her son. Sailor, her heart thumping, met her gaze steadily. “It’s lovely to meet you,” she said in broken Italian, and Vittoria smiled, kissing Sailor’s cheeks. “Sweetie, I speak English, but thank you for trying. I appreciate it.” Vittoria turned to Claudio and Soleil who were waiting. “And you two…still trouble. Soleil, you grow more beautiful every day. Claudio, you’ve showered. That’s a good step.” They all laughed, and Claudio ushered them all inside. In the kitchen, his cook had made a huge breakfast buffet and soon they were all talking over each other and grabbing food. Sailor was happy just to watch this crazy Italian family. Vittoria squeezed her arm on the way around the buffet table and Sailor smiled back, relieved that the woman didn’t take against her right off the bat. She knew Vittoria would want to talk to her alone, however, and after breakfast, she

wasn’t surprised when Vittoria asked her if she would like to walk down to the olive grove. Bodhi started to object, giving his mother a warning glance, but Sailor agreed readily. Sure enough, as Vittoria took her arm, Sailor knew the question that was coming. “So, Sailor, I understand you worked for Bodhi’s agent?” Sailor nodded. “Vittoria, I know what you must think, and so, I am ready and willing to tell you everything you need to know to prove that I couldn’t care less about Bodhi’s status or celebrity and definitely not his money. I love your son, completely and totally. I would live under a bridge with him.” Vittoria nodded to herself. “Sailor…you must think I’m an interfering old woman, but I just want to know you. Bodhi had his demons when he was younger. He didn’t deal with his father’s death well. You know all of this?” Sailor nodded. In bed, during the times they weren’t fucking each other senseless, they would talk. The way Bodhi talked about his dad made her heart hurt. “I wish I could have known him.” “You’re a sweet girl,” Vittoria patted her hand. “Bodhi…he spiraled down and I blame myself for that, for leaving and coming back to Italy without

him. It was my mistake and so you see, now, I am perhaps overly vigilant.” She smiled softly. “He may be nearly forty, but he’s still my little boy.” “Vittoria, I swear to you. I will never hurt Bodhi. I couldn’t, it’s not in me. He has given me a life I thought impossible and I will try every day to repay him.” Vittoria stopped and studied her for a long moment. “I believe you, Sailor King. It’s in your eyes. You love him.” “Yes.” Vittoria began to walk again. “Bodhi told me about your situation, where you grew up. You were brave to escape it.” Sailor said nothing to that, uncomfortable. Vittoria looked at her. “That wasn’t a criticism, Sailor. I cannot imagine the horrors you went through there.” “But I can see how you might think that I’d latch onto Bodhi because of it?” “Can you?” There was no reproach in Vittoria’s voice, and Sailor knew she could be totally honest with the older woman. “I can see how some people might use him to better

their situation. I’m not one of those people.” “Good. I like you, Sailor King, I can be as straight forward as I like. None of that silly ‘my feelings are hurt’ nonsense. You are a straight shooter like me.” Sailor was glad of the approval in Vittoria’s voice. “Did you like Gemma?” She knew it was bold to ask the mother about the ex-girlfriend, but Sailor wanted to know what kind of woman Gemma was. Vittoria gave her a conspiratorial grin, but sighed. “Gemma was very different than you, Sailor. Highstrung, very elegant, high-maintenance. Skittish like a thoroughbred race horse.” Vittoria smiled at Sailor. “I think you are more like me. A tomboy, is that the word?” Sailor grinned and nodded. “It is, and yes, that sounds like me. I’m not nearly as elegant as you, though.” Vittoria laughed. “Believe me, I’m usually covered in paint and pastel dust, my hair sticking up in every direction. Just ask Claudio. Do you like him?” “He’s lovely…a little withdrawn. Knowing Soleil first, I had imagined him to be as extrovert as she is, but he’s not.”

extravagant as Solly, the dear girl. You are friends, yes?” Sailor nodded. “I adore her, and she’s doing Bodhi and I a tremendous favor by posing as his partner in public.” Vittoria nodded. “She’s a good girl…I’ve always thought of Claudio and Solly as my children, and Solly and I especially…have something in common.” She gave a Sailor a meaningful look, and Sailor got it after a beat. “Really?” Vittoria laughed. “Really. I didn’t know myself until well after Bodhi’s father died. For the last two years, I have been very happily dating a wonderful woman called Christina.” “Does Bodhi know?” Vittoria shook her head. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment. As I said, Bodhi was very close to his father.” Sailor considered for a moment. “Knowing Bodhi, he would just be glad you’re happy.” “You think so?” Sailor nodded. “But it’s none of my business.”

Vittoria hugged her. “You are part of this family now, Sailor. It is your business, and thank you for being so supportive.” Sailor grinned. “And if Bodhi gets angry about it, I’ll kick his ass.” Vittoria laughed. “That’s my girl. Shall we go and rejoin everyone?”

VITTORIA SPENT most of the rest of the afternoon bonding with her grandson, who took to her straight away, already in love with her large dog, whose named was Tag. “He’s a Leonberger crossed with a Bernese Mountain dog,” Vittoria told Tim. The dog was as tall as the ten-year-old, and Bodhi rolled his eyes. “He’s huge. How on Earth do you control him?” “Bribery mostly,” she shot back to the amusement of the others. “It worked on you as a kid.” “True story,” Bodhi grinned and Tim laughed at his father’s expression. Bodhi ruffled his hair and Tim hugged his dad hard. Sailor’s eyes filled with tears at the joy in Bodhi’s eyes. His relationship with Tim had really blossomed.

A little while later, while Tim entertained his grandmother with tales of school, Bodhi pulled Sailor onto his lap and kissed her. “My mom give you the full interrogation?” Sailor grinned. “Yup. I think I passed, because after that we planned sedition against you.” Bodhi laughed. “Then I’d say you made a good impression. What did you think?” “I love her. There’s no bullshit there.” Bodhi kissed her again. “I love you, Sailor King.” “Hey, you two,” Vittoria came over, holding Tim’s hand, “We’ve had an idea. Solly and Claudio are coming back with me to Florence for a couple of days…and Tim was wondering if he could come too, give you two some time alone?” Tim nodded, and Bodhi grinned. “You sure, sport?” Tim nodded his head. “Oh yes, it’ll be fun, and Grandma says I can sleep with Tag on my bed.” He looked oddly excited about the prospect. Bodhi nodded. “Okay then. Thanks, Ma, we could use the time.” Sailor felt she must be blushing to her roots. She knew exactly how they would be spending the time and by the smirks on Solly and Claudio’s faces,

they had guessed too.

THE NEXT MORNING , Tim hugged both his father and Sailor goodbye. “See you in a couple of days, buddy boy.” Tim hugged his father hard. “Love you, Dad.” Bodhi really couldn’t stop the tears, “Love you too, Timbo.” Sailor smiled up at him as they waved the others goodbye. “Mushy face.” Bodhi laughed, wiping his damp cheeks. “Yup, can’t deny it.” They waved until they couldn’t see the car anymore, then without warning, Bodhi lifted Sailor into a fireman’s lift and carried her, shrieking with laughter, back to their little hideaway. He dropped her onto the bed and as she giggled, pulled up her tshirt and blew raspberries on her belly. “Oh, you silly man,” Sailor was breathless as Bodhi climbed on top of her. His kiss was deep and rough and she tangled her fingers in his curls as he undid the fly of her jeans and pushed them down her legs. “First, I’m going to fuck you hard, Sailor girl, then

we’re going to play all day and all night. I hope you have a lot of energy.” His hand was in her panties, stroking her clit, feeling how wet she was for him. Sailor kicked off her jeans and panties and wrapped her legs around his hip, her own hands freeing his cock from his underwear and then he was in her, thrusting hard, her fingernails digging deep into his buttocks, almost painful. Bodhi pinned her hands above her head as they fucked, his gaze locked onto hers. “Sailor, my love?” “Yes, baby?” “How would you feel about being tied up?” Sailor grinned. “By you? I think that would be just…nifty.” Bodhi laughed which broke his rhythm and they had to concentrate on getting it back for a few moments. Sailor tightened her legs around his waist. “Whatever you want to do to me, I want you to do it…whatever it is, Bodhi. I trust you.” “I would never hurt you, you know that, right?” His eyes were serious. Sailor nodded, her orgasm close as he rammed his hips into her. “I know…I’m saying, if you want to

get rough…I’d be into it. With you.” Bodhi grinned and slammed his cock even deeper inside her and she came, gasping and shuddering, saying his name over and over. His climax followed, and he groaned as he pumped his seed deep inside her. They caught their breath, laying side-by-side, holding hands. The day was warm, but a pleasant breeze blew through the open shutters. Outside, there was utter quiet, only the faint rustle of leaves in the trees. “This is heaven,” breathed Sailor. Bodhi smiled at her. “You’re heaven, Miss King. Now I’m going to kiss every inch of your beautiful body, then we’re going to get a little kinky. Don’t forget, you get scared or uncomfortable, say the word and we can stop.” She pulled his face down to hers to kiss his mouth. “Take me, Bodhi Creed.” He covered her body while kissing her mouth, her throat, sucking on her nipples, trailing his tongue down the groove of her stomach and tracing a pattern around her deep navel. Sailor shivered with excitement; her belly quivering under his mouth. Bodhi, sensing she enjoyed it, continued to kiss, and stroke and his thumb dipped into her navel in a steady rhythm until she had to tell him to stop, she

was almost unbearably turned-on and when his teeth grazed her clit, she came quickly, almost sobbing. He moved up her body to kiss her mouth again, and then grinned down at her. “So, you have a very sensitive belly, Miss King…so now I know where to begin my crusade to have you screaming my name long into the night. Just hang tight here for a moment while I collect what I need.” Sailor was sure she would cum just hearing the silky, sensual tone of his voice, but she waited, watching him stalk around the living area, picking up what he needed. “Don’t forget there’s some special items I brought in my case,” she said, propping herself up on her elbow to watch him. Bodhi gave her the finger pistols and she laughed, watching his face as he took out the paper bag she’d hidden the toys in. His eyes widened when he saw them; warming lube, a long thick dildo, a strapon, he grinned at that and nodded, much to Sailor’s relief, silk ties, a riding crop, a vibrator. “I hope you don’t think that’s all a bit vanilla,” she said as he carried everything to the bed and laid it out. “I’ve honestly no idea, but the woman in the store helped me out. That wasn’t an embarrassing conversation at all,” she said wryly and Bodhi laughed, leaning over to kiss her.

“Well, now, I think you did great…I will certainly enjoy using all of these on you…and having you use them on me. All of them.” “Really?” “Really. You said you would try anything with me, well, I feel the same way.” “Even the…” She touched the strap-on lightly and he nodded. “How about you…how do you feel about anal sex?” Sailor rolled onto her stomach and grinned. “Like I said…anything.” Bodhi gave a growl. “God, you’re pure sex, Sailor King. You realize I’m going to have to fuck your ass before I do anything else now? Look at this,” he indicated his straining cock, “just the thought of it…” Sailor spread her legs and Bodhi climbed on top of her, parting her round buttocks, grabbing the lube and she felt him rub it onto her before his cock nudged at the entrance before sliding in gently. She gasped, her vision filling with stars as he fucked her ass, being as gentle as he could in his mounting excitement, his fingers digging into her hips.

“Christ, you’re sensational,” he gasped, moving his hand to stroke her clit and Sailor gave a long moan of pleasure, before feeling him cum inside her, his mouth on the back of her shoulder, groaning her name “I love you, I love you,” he moaned, and they both collapsed, panting hard. Afterward, they took a shower together, and grabbed some food, making a picnic on their bed. Sailor, completely uninhibited about being naked with him, studied the items he had brought to their playground. A long feather, a paintbrush, she grinned at that one, and a jar of honey. She picked up the small jar and smiled. “I like this touch.” “I’m going to drip it onto your soft belly and into your navel then licked it up while I fuck you with that dildo,” Bodhi said with a grin, “all the while you’re tied so you can’t escape me.” Sailor gave a moan of desire, and Bodhi chuckled, his voice deep with his own craving for her. “Then we’ll see if you like the crop.” Sailor wriggled with anticipation and soon Bodhi was binding her wrists to the bedpost, kissing the soft skin on the inside of each one before wrapping the silk ties around them. He smiled down at her as he saw her eyes alive with excitement. As he

straddled her, Sailor now completely helpless, he dripped the honey between her breasts watching it pour down her belly, filling her navel and then his mouth was on her. He heard her squeak with arousal as his tongue delved deep into her navel and he pushed her legs apart, stroking her clit, feeling how swollen and wet her cunt was, feeling it quiver under his touch. He slowly slid the dildo into her and began to fuck her with it, Sailor moaning and writhing, her wrists bound, her body heaving as she panted for air. Bodhi smiled as he continued to tease her belly. Soon Sailor was bucking and crying his name out as she came, and Bodhi straddled her and plunged his cock deep inside her, admiring the way her breasts moved as they rocked in unison, the way her belly rose and fell with her gasps. He reached his peak and pulled out of her, coming onto the skin of her belly in thick, creamy spurts. He kept her under him as he took up the crop and she nodded eagerly. He brought it down across her belly once and she moaned. “Harder, baby, harder…” He would only strike her twice more before she came again and when she had calmed down, he untied her wrists and kissed her bruised wrists tenderly and gathered her to him.

“I love you, little one,” he whispered as he kissed her, “Was that okay?” She panted for air. “It was wild,” she said, with not a little astonishment. He stroked his hand down the length of her body. “Are you hurting?” Sailor shook her head. “Not unless you count my vagina aching from the pounding your huge cock just gave it.” Bodhi laughed. “I love your dirty mouth.” Sailor smirked. “This dirty mouth gonna be wrapped around your anaconda any second.” Bodhi tickled her. “Bad girl, bad, bad girl.” Sailor rolled him onto his back. “Maybe, Mr. Creed, but now it’s my turn to be in charge.” And she moved down his body until she could take his cock into her mouth.

B AY TUCKED her new-born son back into his bed. Buddy was feeding so well that the doctors said she could take him home in the morning, and Bay was relieved. She’d had her fill of hospitals after she’d been shot. Months and months of treatment. If we

have another child, she thought, I’m insisting on a home birth. She bent down and kissed her son’s soft head. “Love you, Buddy Boo. Sleep tight.” She gazed down at him, never having enough of the sight of him. When they’d had the girls, it was such a tumultuous time, there hadn’t been any time for quiet reflection. Now, with Tom at home with Esme and Milly, probably being run ragged by his daughters, Bay could enjoy the quiet hours with her son. She glanced at the clock. Three a.m. She didn’t mind the middle of the night feeds; she enjoyed the silence of the hospital, and the view over Seattle at night. She stared out at the city now, over to the top of the Needle, squinting to see if she could see the outline of Rainier in the dark. She heard the door squeak open behind her and turned. A nurse, dressed in scrubs went to pick her chart with her vital signs up. Bay, her brain still full of baby hormones, didn’t even question it, so used to people coming and in out at all times. “Hi. Quiet night?” The nurse said nothing, and Bay frowned. She tried again. “Hey…” She touched the arm of the nurse, and he or she whirled around and Bay saw his eyes.

And recognized them immediately. Her heart nearly failed and she knew one thing. She would not let Stu Lawson harm her child. She threw herself over Buddy’s crib, but Stu grabbed her hair and yanked her backward, throwing her across the room. Bay hardly had time to open her mouth to scream before Stu was on her, slashing at her with a scalpel. Bay kicked him away, ignoring the slice of the blade across her skin of her thigh as Stu lost balance. Bay screamed for help as Stu, his eyes crazed lunged for Buddy’s cradle and Bay, giving the banshee cry of the lioness, launched herself at him, her hands clawing at him. Stu grabbed and shoved her against the wall as two burly security guards rushed in and grabbed him, hauling him away from Bay and out into the hall, still screaming. Bay immediately went to her son, who was bawling, and scooped him into her arms, breathing hard, checking her son for any wounds. There was blood spattered across his coverlet, but thankfully, she could find nothing wrong. A fleet of doctors and nurses came in, and one stepped forward, his face pale. “Nurse Edwards, please take Mrs. Meir’s son and make sure he is fine.” Bay shook her head. “No, he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s okay.”

The doctor nodded to the nurse who came to take Buddy, but Bay shook her head. “No. I want him. He’s fine.” The doctor stepped toward her. “Bay, honey, Buddy may be okay, but you’re not. Sweetie, right now you have adrenaline coursing through your system. When it goes away, which it will any second, you will start to feel pain. A lot of pain. When you do, you may pass out, and I don’t want you holding Buddy when you do. Please. Give him to Nurse Edwards.” Bay stared at him, and sure enough, now the attack was over she began to feel something like pain creeping over her. She handed her son to the nurse and then looked down at herself. Her nightdress was soaked in blood from numerous slashes across it, but what she noticed was the blood streaming down her leg from the thigh wound. Fuck. It was deep. The thick dark blood was pumping down her leg and pooling where she stood. Arterial blood. Oh no, no… Bay felt a wave of dizziness and the doctor caught her as she passed out.

THE DOCTOR and nurses got Bay onto her bed and the doctor examined her. “Shit. She has a deep

laceration to the right thigh. Possible femoral artery rupture. Let’s get her down to surgery now before she bleeds out. Someone, please, call Tomas Meir, and the police, and then tell me what the fuck went on here tonight.”

TOM MEIR HAD FINALLY GOTTEN off to sleep when the call came and then his heart nearly failed. Bay and Buddy had been attacked, Buddy was okay but Bay was in surgery with serious stab wounds. Please no, not again… He knew it was Stu Lawson, who else would it be? He, Tom, had failed Bay when she was at her most vulnerable. Why hadn’t he insisted on a security guard at her hospital room? Because then you would have to tell her you kept Stu Lawson’s escape from her… Oh god, my darling, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… He woke the girls and called Kym and Roman. They were horrified and told him they would meet him at the hospital. Tom strapped the girls into their car seats, praying he wouldn’t be too late, that he wouldn’t have to explain to his girls that their mommy had been killed by a very bad man, and that their daddy hadn’t been able to stop him.

SAILOR STRETCHED her body out in the morning sun and opened her eyes. Bodhi was at the stove, flipping delicious smelling pancakes onto a plate. Sailor got up, snatched Bodhi’s shirt from the bottom of the bed, wrapping it around herself, and padded silently behind him, slipping her arms around his waist. She still had a hard time believing this beautiful big man was hers. “I love you.” Bodhi turned around and with a shock, it wasn’t Bodhi but Bart. He smiled nastily. “I’m glad to hear it, Sailor, but it’s a little too late for that.” In his hand, a large, lethal-looking knife and he drove it deep into her stomach. As she fell to the floor, dying, she saw Bodhi laying across from her, his throat cut, the light in his eyes fading…

“SAILOR ! B ABY,

WAKE UP !”

Sailor finally stopped screaming as Bodhi wrapped his arms around her. “Baby, you were dreaming, having a nightmare.” Slowly, she managed to calm herself. Bodhi looked at her with deep concern in his eyes. “Are you alright?”

Sailor drew in a deep breath. “Sorry, darling, I’m so sorry. God, a bad dream doesn’t cover it.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “Jesus, I haven’t had one of them for months.” Bodhi stroked her hair. “Do you want to talk to me about it?” She smiled wanly. “What else would it be about but Bart? I’m constantly waiting for him to find me, to hurt me or worse, hurt you. I couldn’t bear it if I was responsible for anything happening to anyone I love. I would rather die, Bodhi.” Bodhi winced. “Don’t say that, baby.” “It’s true though. I’ll tell you something, if Bart comes for me, I won’t go without trying to take him with me. I used to think the worst thing a person could do was to kill another human. But I would kill Bart Foy in a heartbeat. For what he has done, for what he might do.” Bodhi felt his heart sink at her words. His beautiful love should never have been put in the position where she had to choose whether to kill or be killed. No. This was wrong. He would not allow Sailor to be hurt anymore by Bart Foy or his followers. “Sweetie, when we get back to the US, we’ll stop

being passive and start being proactive.” “What do you have in mind?” Sailor was calm now and Bodhi kissed her temple. “First, and I know you’ll hate this, but added security. You don’t go out in public without a bodyguard.” Sailor sighed and Bodhi looked at her questioningly. “What is it?” “It’s just…I lived for years not being able to move freely, always having a escort with me. It feels like déjà vu.” “Except in this case, we’ll be protecting rather than restraining.” There was a tiny edge to Bodhi’s voice and she smiled at him humbly. “I know, baby. Let’s talk about what else we can do?” Bodhi shifted so he was facing her. “When you think of other cults, what’s the thing they hate the most?” “Negative publicity.” Bodhi nodded. “Right. Documentaries, testimonies from ex-cult members. Look at that series that was just on television exposing that Hollywood cult. They hated it.”

“So, you’re saying documentary?”

we

should

make

a

“I am. We involve a top journalist, someone with gravitas, and we round up ex-cult members to testify.” Sailor chewed her lip. “If we can find any alive. There are very few who leave and nearly all of them end up dead.” “Then we get the police involved and look into those deaths. Maybe the F.B.I. You can tell them what you saw in Foy’s office.” “If he’s under investigation, he will have destroyed those photos. Why the hell didn’t I take one as leverage if nothing else? Dang it.” “You were scared.” Sailor nodded, but she looked determined. “Let’s do it. Let’s bring that asshole down.” “And keep you safe.” She smiled at him. “That too.”

B ODHI

LEANED

over to kiss her. “Are you hungry?”

“A little.” She stroked him hair, trying to force the

image of him dying out of her head. “I don’t want pancakes though.” “Eggs?” “Perfect.” They ate outside, balancing their plates on their knees. “It is heaven here,” Sailor said. “No television, no internet, no phone signal, just this.” She indicated the beautiful rolling hills, the regal, but rustic buildings, the olive groves. Bodhi ate a forkful of eggs. “Could you see yourself living here?” Sailor looked at him in surprise, then nodded. “I could. You?” Bodhi smiled. “It’s been in the back of my mind for years, just to retire and then come back here, a simpler life. Lately, I’ve been thinking about it more. If you’ll forgive an old man’s fantasy…I could see us here, our own little kids running around, dogs, horses, us making everything we need together. Tranquility. Peace.” “I take it back,” Sailor said, tears filling her eyes, “This isn’t heaven. That right there, what you described, that’s my heaven.” Bodhi grinned shyly. “Yeah?”

“God, yes.” He reached over to stroke his hand over her hair. “Sailor King…you make me so happy. I don’t want to freak you out or anything, but one day, I want to marry you. Don’t worry, I’m not asking yet, but I will ask, someday.” Sailor reddened with pleasure. “And one day, I’ll say yes. I promise.” Bodhi took her plate from her and set it down on the ground. He pulled her to her feet and led her down the hill. Sailor chuckled at his mischievous face. “Where are we going?” Bodhi laughed. “The olive grove…another fantasy of mine is to fuck you there.” Sailor’s heart began to beat faster and she grinned. “Lead on, Mr. Creed.” In the middle of the olive grove, he took her, laying back on the earth and moss, and grass, her legs hitched around his hips, his cock driving deep inside her. Afterward, hand-in-hand, they made their way back to the house, talking and laughing. Sailor happened to glance around and stopped Bodhi.

“Look.” They saw a cloud of dust making its way up the hill. “Someone’s coming.” Bodhi frowned. Soleil and Claudio weren’t due back for another day. They walked back to the house and waited for the car. Sure enough, it was Soleil and Claudio, along with Tim. Tim got out of the car and ran to hug his father and Sailor. Soleil greeted them, her usually cheerful face somber. She glanced at Claudio who nodded and took Tim back inside for something to eat. “Hey guys,” Solly said, “I’m sorry we had to break into your time, but something’s happened back home, and I thought you should know.” “What is it?” Solly looked at Sailor, her face sad. “Bay Tambe was attacked in hospital. She’s in a pretty bad way.” Sailor covered her mouth in horror. “Oh god…what happened?” Solly drew in a deep breath. “Stuart Lawson. He attacked her with a scalpel. She was protecting the baby, oh, by the way, she had a boy a few nights ago, and thankfully the baby’s not hurt. Bay was cut, and her femoral artery was severed. They had

to operate for hours and she’s in intensive care again.” Bodhi put his arms around Sailor who was sobbing. “Did you hear it from the news?” Solly shook her head. “The F.B.I. called me to try and get in touch with you. Stuart Lawson’s singing like a bird. Seems like Bartholomew Foy arranged his escape, hid him, gave him the opportunity to kill Bay.” Sailor gaped at her, tears still pouring down her face. “Bart? Why the hell would he want Bay dead?” Soleil looked at Sailor, deep sympathy in her eyes. “According to Stu…to punish you. He knew you were friends, god knows how. Bodhi…you have a spy in your team.” “Fuck!” Bodhi was angry now. He tightened his arms around Sailor who was sobbing even harder now. Bay had been attacked because of her? No. No, she couldn’t bear it. “Bodhi, we have to go home,” she said, trying to calm herself, but Bodhi was raging. “No, no way, it will be like putting you in the firing range.”

“No-one else is getting hurt because of me, Bodhi, I won’t permit it.” “Not gonna happen, sweetheart.” “Stop telling me how to live my life!” Sailor lost it then. “It’s my decision, Bodhi, not yours! I’m responsible for this…god, Bodhi, she’d just given birth! How do you think Tomas feels? The girls? Because of me, their mommy is…” She couldn’t get the words out. “What’s done is done,” Bodhi’s voice was cold. “Sacrificing yourself won’t change that.” “It’s not your choice,” Sailor snapped. “We’re going back to the States tonight. I need to be there for Bay.” Bodhi threw his hands up in the air. “You barely know her!” Sailor went very still. “I’ve known her only two weeks less than I’ve known you, Bodhi. Bay is my family now too. Make the arrangements. End of conversation.” And she stalked back into the main farmhouse, barely holding it together. She found an empty bathroom and sank to the cool tile floor, burying her head in her hands and sobbing out her heartbreak.

OUTSIDE A SHELL- SHOCKED B ODHI turned a pale face to Soleil. He shook his head. “This is a bad idea, Solly. A bad, bad idea.” Soleil squeezed his arm. “But you know you have to do it, right?” Bodhi nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. “God…if he kills her, Solly…” “He won’t, Bodhi. Look, how about I move in with you all and we can run interference? We fire your entire team and bring in a security detail. I will personally take Tim to school and back. You and Sailor try and have a normal life together.” Bodhi looked at his friend with gratitude. “What about your life, Sol?” She grinned. “Hey, I’m a lot younger than you…I can wait. I can work from Los Angeles as easily as anywhere. I have some stuff going on with Grady Mallory and Maceo Bartoli, but they can handle it from where they are.” Bodhi hugged her. “Thanks, Sol.” “You’re welcome. Look, let me make the arrangements to fly back tonight. Go and find Sailor and make-up with her. Now is not the time for you

two to be fighting.”

“GIRLS, when we see Mommy, don’t jump all over her,” Tomas Meir told his daughters gently. “She’s very sore, and she may be a little groggy.” “Can we kiss her?” Tomas looked in the rearview mirror and smiled at Esme. “I think she would like that very much.” He turned back to the road, feeling his body easing from the tension and grief that had colored the last few days. After hours in surgery, Bay had pulled through and was now on the way to recovery, but the terror he had felt when he was told, he would never forget it. Stuart Lawson was now in F.B.I. custody and singing like bird. His escape from prison had been orchestrated by a man called Bartholomew Foy, who Tomas had then researched and found out exactly who he was. It was the shock of discovering the #FindSailor hashtag, the thing which linked him to Bay. He had her attacked to show Sailor what he was capable of. Tomas felt murderous, and a little pissed at Sailor King, which he knew wasn’t fair, but hell, his beloved Bay had almost died, again.

Stu Lawson would have tried to kill Bay without Bartie Foy. Tom repeated it to himself, but still, the thought came that if it weren’t for Bartie Foy, Stu Lawson would never have gotten out of jail.

TO HIS RELIEF, Bay was awake, and overjoyed to see the twins, hugging both the girls. His wife was still pale, but the life had come back into her eyes again, as she held her son and kissed her girls. Esme and Milly were obsessed with their baby brother. Bay, when she awoke from the surgery, had asked for her son to stay with her, wanting to breast-feed him even as she recovered and after some discussion with her doctor, he had given permission. She handed Buddy to his father before kissing Tom’s lips. “Doc says I can come home this weekend, girls,” she told her daughters and they looked excited. Tom stroked a hand over Bay’s forehead. “You sure you’re up to it, baby?” She nodded vehemently. “God, yes. I’m counting the days.” “How’s the thigh?” Bay smiled at him. “The wound is healing nicely, but you should see the bruise. I’m slightly proud of

it.” Tom swallowed a lump in his throat. “You’re a warrior, baby. Not many people would have had the strength to fight back.” Bay looked steadily at him. “Tom, honey…I have to ask. Did you know? Did you know he was out?” Tom met her gaze. “I did. I didn’t want you stressed in the last few weeks of your pregnancy. I never dreamed that you wouldn’t be safe here.” Bay sighed. “I understand why you made that decision but, please, don’t keep anything from me like that, again.” “I won’t. Forgive me?” Bay grinned slightly. “I’ll think about it. You’ll have to make it up to me…in about six weeks’ time.” Tom laughed and Milly looked up. “What are you laughing about, Daddy?” “Just your mommy being a naughty girl.” Milly shrugged. “Okay.” Bay slid her hand into Tom’s. “Sailor called me. They’re coming back. She was upset, kept blaming herself.” She saw Tom’s expression and gave him a stern look. “Tom, this is not her fault so I don’t

want to hear otherwise. Can you imagine how that poor girl had been living?” “What I don’t get,” Tom said, lowering his voice, “Is why you? Why, of all her friends, did he target you?” “That’s an easy one. Sailor doesn’t have a lot of people, and most of them are under Bodhi’s protection. I’m on the periphery and no-one would suspect Bart Foy coming after me. Plus, using Stu, he had a way to deny any involvement. I have to hand it to Bart Foy, he did his research.” Tom thought about this for a long minute, then nodded. “I guess you’re right.” “Anyway, Sailor is coming to see me tomorrow so we can have a chat then. I’m sure the hospital will be delighted with the amount of security around them.” Bay nodded out of the door where Tom’s security team guarded her. Bay smiled. “Like a fortress.” “You bet your sweet…butt,” Tom amended at the last minute, cutting his eyes at his children and Bay laughed. “Nice save, Mr. Meir, nice save.”

THE TENSION between Sailor and Bodhi hadn’t lightened as they flew home and now, two days later, breakfast was a silent thing. Soleil and Tim would glance at each other and try to start a conversation, but both Bodhi and Sailor were subdued. Soleil took Tim to school, and the couple were left alone in the house. Sailor watched the new security team patrolling the property and felt tears come to the surface. She wiped one away with an impatient hand then felt Bodhi slide his arms around her waist and kiss the tears away. “I’m sorry, Sails. I was insensitive. I’m just damned scared you’ll get hurt.” Sailor leaned back into his embrace, needing to feel his strength, his big body against her own. “I’m sorry I yelled. It’s just, god, Bodhi, I feel so responsible.” “You’re not the monster here,” he said gently, and she turned in his arms, tilting her face up for a kiss. “I know. I just hate the thought of anyone else being hurt, because of me.” She put her hands on his face, studying him. “You look tired.” “I missed you the last couple of days.” She smiled gently. “I was right next to you in bed,

baby.” “I felt the distance.” She nodded, her eyes growing serious. “Me too.” “Let’s never do that again.” Bodhi kissed her gently. Sailor took his hand and led him back to their bedroom. “Let’s get those times back,” she said softly, and closed the door behind her.

SOLEIL LOOKED over at Tim as they sat in the heavy Los Angeles traffic on the way to his school. The boy had been quiet, picking up on the tension between his father and Sailor. “Timbo? You okay?” Tim looked at her with concern in his eyes. “Solly…are my dad and Sailor going to split up?” Soleil shook her head. “No, sweetie, they’re just upset about what happened to Bay. But everything’s going to be alright again. Bay is getting better and your dad and Sailor will be okay.” “We have new bodyguards.” “You do.”

“Good. That’s good.” Solly frowned. “Tim, do they ever bother you? Not the new ones, but the old ones. Did you ever notice any weird behavior?” Tim considered. “Only Udo. He was creepy. He liked to look at Sailor all the time. I think he thought she was pretty.” Soleil nodded, deep in thought. “Udo, huh? Yeah, he was a little creepy. Good thing he’s gone now, right?” “Yeah. Do you think Dad will marry Sailor?” Soleil was relieved he seemed happier. “Maybe, I don’t know. They love each other very much.” Tim nodded. “Why hasn’t Daddy gotten married before?” “Well, maybe he was waiting for Sailor.” “But he didn’t know her.” Tim looked confused and Soleil grinned at him. “Maybe, deep inside, he knew he was waiting, that someone like Sailor was out there, and so he held off getting married. Are you sad he didn’t marry your mom?” “No. I don’t think they loved each other, not like

Mom loved Evan or Dad loves Sailor.” “What happened with your mom and Evan?” Tim shrugged. “She used to get these moods, and yell at him. He ignored it for a while but then he got…what’s the word?” “Angry? Depressed?” “Depressed. He was sad. One day, he told me he couldn’t live with us anymore because Mommy asked him to leave.” Tim looked a little tearful, and Soleil hurriedly changed the subject. “Well, if you ask me, I think your Dad will marry Sailor.” “I hope so.” Tim was smiling again. At school, he kissed Soleil’s cheek and ran off to be with his friends. Soleil sighed. She’d never wanted kids, but there was something about this particular kid that made her heart hurt. She glanced at her watch. Still early and she wanted to give Bodhi and Sailor some privacy. Soleil drove to her favorite L.A. coffee house and flirted with the female barista. Hedda, her date a few weeks back, hadn’t called her, for a while and Soleil decided she wasn’t that concerned. Hedda had been fun but the nurse’s hours had been inconvenient and…

Something clicked in Soleil’s head. Hedda had been a pediatric nurse. Soleil called the hospital where she said she worked. The staff there hadn’t heard of a Hedda Shaw. Shit. Soleil grabbed her iPad and checked which hospital Bay Tambe had given birth at in Seattle and called them. After some negotiation, she was put through to the nurse’s station on Bay’s floor. Soleil recognized Hedda’s voice immediately. She hung up the phone without speaking. Fucking bitch. So, Hedda had lied about where she worked, it couldn’t be a coincidence that she worked in the neonatal unit where Bay had been attacked. Sailor had wanted to travel up to Seattle to see Bay, maybe she, Soleil, should take her. Maybe then she could check out Hedda, maybe freak her out enough to get some information. It was worth a shot.

B ODHI RAN his palms slowly down Sailor’s sides as she straddled him. She was stroking his cock into a state of tumescence, after they’d paused in their love making. She smiled down at him as her hands caressed him, rubbing the tip of his cock along her damp sex.

“Remember our night in Tuscany?” She said, and Bodhi grinned. “Baby, I don’t think I will ever forget that. Did you enjoy yourself?” “God, yes.” Sailor positioned herself and guided him inside her, taking him in deep, sighing happily. “I love the way your peachy cunt grips my cock,” Bodhi said as she rode him, and she chuckled, winding her fingers between his. “I love it when your cock reams me into submission.” Bodhi chuckled. “God, you have such a dirty mouth.” In one swift motion, he flipped her onto her back and pushed her knees up to her chest. “Let’s see just how deep I can go, shall we?” Sailor gasped and cried out as he fucked her harder and harder, pushing her knees higher so he could go deeper. “That’s right, little girl, scream my name… god…your cunt feels so good, baby…” Sailor came quickly as Bodhi shot deep inside her. Bodhi made her hold her legs apart as he went down on her, Sailor finding the way his tongue teased her already sensitive clit unbearable in the best way.

After two more orgasms and a lot of kissing, they lay panting, side by side. “God, it can’t get better than that, can it?” Bodhi grinned. “Doubtful. But I’m up for anything, if you are.” Sailor propped herself up on her elbow to gaze down at him. “I am…except for anything involving knives.” “I would never consider that, Sails. Not ever. Even taking your past into consideration. Not my bag.” Sailor grinned, relieved. “But anything else…we’ve tried whips, bondage…” Bodhi grinned wickedly. “At this point it might be easier to just list the stuff we won’t try.” “Ball gags. Gag being the operative word. There’s only two things going in my mouth during sex: your tongue and your cock.” “That’s good to hear,” Bodhi was chuckling and leaning against his chest, she felt the vibration rumble through him. “I’m not into humiliation or degradation. Or adult diapers.” They both made a face then laughed. “Yup, not for me either. What about a threesome?” Bodhi’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

Sailor nodded. “I’ve been wondering.” “Woman or man?” “Either. But only if, and this is a big if, we trust that person implicitly. Because I can get jealous.” Bodhi pulled her on top of him. “You know that rules out everyone but two people.” “Yup. But I don’t think Bay will be up for it just yet.” “Oh, ha ha funny girl. Funny enough, I’m not sure Claudio would do it, either.” “So, we’re talking about the same person. Well, Solly is posing as your girlfriend.” Bodhi grinned at her. “Soleil is the one person I’m surprised hasn’t suggested it yet.” “Have you and her…” Bodhi shook his head. “No, never. I know she has done it with others, though, she’s not shy about telling me.” Sailor was chuckling. “I can’t believe we’re even discussing it.” “Hey, I have a whole role play thing in my head already.”

“Oh, really?” Bodhi covered her body with his. “Yeah. Me and Solly, we’re the rich folk…“ “True story.” “Don’t interrupt.” “Sorry.” She grinned up at him. “Please continue.” “We live in a grand castle and you, Sailor girl, are our maid. We chose you because of your staggering beauty, and soon, we take you out of the kitchen where you’ve been slaving, and keep you as our sex toy, every night,” he was trailing his lips across her clavicle as he spoke, “we make you strip slowly in front of us, then we both kiss every part of your beautiful body. All out attention is focused on you…all of it.” His mouth was on her breasts now, his hand snaking between her legs to rub her clit. Sailor shivered at the sensations flooding through her body. Bodhi was enjoying himself, running the tip of his tongue around her navel. “Imagine that’s Soleil’s tongue on your belly, and she’s stroking the soft flesh inside your delicious thighs…I’m behind you, running my tongue down your spine, then, as Soleil takes your clit into her mouth, I slide my cock deep inside your cunt from

behind…” Sailor moaned, trembling underneath his touch and Bodhi, grinned, flipped her onto her stomach and thrust into her from behind finding her wet and so turned-on that she came at once, then again as they fucked, Bodhi gripping the headboard and slamming his cock deep inside her.

L ATER , when Soleil returned home, Sailor couldn’t help grinning to herself. It had really done it for her, imagining being fucked by both Solly and Bodhi. Her body still buzzed with arousal, but she saw Soleil was serious as she came into the room, and pushed her more erotic fantasies to the back of her mind. Soleil, for once, did not look in the mood for flirting. Soleil told them about Hedda and Bodhi’s face was grim. “It certainly sounds suspicious. And yes, I think it’s a good idea to go to Seattle.” Sailor agreed. “I want to see Bay and if we can scare Hedda into giving something away, even better. Jesus, if she let Lawson into the hospital, I want to get her ass fired.” “That was my initial reaction, but she may be more useful if we stick a P.I. on her. I can use visiting

Bay to cover for my presence, act surprised Hedda is there, maybe intimidate her a little.” Bodhi was reaching for his phone. “We’ll find out where she lives and stick bugs on everything. If she’s working with Foy, we’ll find out.” Sailor felt relief flooding through her. “A lead, at last,” she said, beaming. “Thank you, Solly. That’s the best news.” Soleil grinned and high-fived her. “You two look happier. Can I assume you made up?” Sailor colored and giggled. Bodhi looked smug. “We sure did. And, um, in an interesting way.” Sailor shot him a horrified look and Bodhi laughed. “Sailor’s worried I’m going to tell you about her fantasy.” “Bod-hi!” Sailor moaned, and Soleil chuckled. “Oh, this must be good. Tell me.” “No!” Sailor clamped her hand over Bodhi’s mouth. He pulled it down and while laughing as Sailor tried to shut him up, “Sailor wants a threesome with you, Solly.” Sailor could have died, but Soleil just laughed out loud. “Well, about damn time.”

Sailor was mortified. “I cannot believe you told her.” Bodhi was unrepentant. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Sails. How else did you think we should invite Solly into our bed? By Morse code?” Soleil got up and came to sit next to Sailor. “Sails… is this something you really want to try?” Sailor was panicking a little as she looked between them both. “Is this really happening?” Soleil and Bodhi shared a look. “It can be. Do you want to talk about it?” Sailor didn’t know whether she was going to freak out or go along with what she was pretty sure was a rhetorical conversation. She chose the latter. “Maybe…how would it work?” She didn’t know if she could take seeing Bodhi fuck Soleil. Soleil read her mind. “If we do this, it’s all about you, Sailor. I don’t fuck men and Bodhi would never cheat on you.” Bodhi nodded. “No, I wouldn’t. Solly’s right, if we do this, it’s all about your pleasure, baby. Is this too much?” Slowly Sailor shook her head. Soleil glanced at

Bodhi who nodded, his eyes riveted at the two women. Soleil took Sailor’s face in her hands and pressed her lips to Sailor’s. She tasted of honey and Sailor sank into the kiss as she felt Bodhi stroke her back. She reached behind her and cupped his cock through his jeans, feeling it already hard. So, Bodhi would enjoy this too? It seemed so. Soleil’s hands were under her t-shirt now, and between them, she and Bodhi stripped Sailor, both of them kissing her exposed skin. Sailor shivered with anticipation as they moved to the bedroom. She lay on the bed as Soleil and Bodhi caressed her body and when Soleil’s mouth found her clit, she gasped. Bodhi caught her mouth with his, his thumb finger-fucking her navel. Soleil was skilled at what she did, bringing Sailor to orgasm swiftly, smiling up at her. “You taste wonderful, Sails.” She looked at Bodhi. “Swap places? I want to watch you fuck her.” Bodhi thrust his engorged cock into Sailor’s red and swollen cunt as Soleil, her beautiful face glowing with arousal, kissed Sailor thoroughly. “I admit,” she said, “I have thought about this since I met you.” Sailor felt a swell of affection and of pleasure that she, Sailor, could turn on a staggeringly beautiful woman like Soleil.

“Solly, look in the cupboard…we have some toys you might like.” Bodhi’s gorgeous eyes were intense with desire as he fucked his lover, who was crying out and gasping, completely at their mercy. Solly went to the closet and in seconds she was back, carrying the riding crop and wearing the strap-on they had yet to use. “Well, look at that,” she grinned. The sight of her, the large silicone dildo protruding from between her legs, was strangely beautiful. She waved the crop. “Where do you like this, Sailor?” “Across her belly,” Bodhi said, his climax near, and Sailor nodded, giving a sharp intake of breath as Soleil cracked the whip across her belly, leaving a red welt. “Harder,” Sailor gasped, Bodhi’s cock plowing deep into her. Solei bent and pressed her lips to the first welt before striking Sailor again, harder. The sting was sweet agony. The third strike broke the skin slightly, and Soleil put the crop down, kissing Sailor’s belly. “I’ll make it better, Sailor girl,” she whispered. Bodhi came, watching the women interacting and then pulled out, gasping for air. “I want to suck your cock,” Sailor told him, and he nodded, smiling.

“Solly, fuck her from behind with that thing while I suck her clit.” With Bodhi’s cock in her mouth, his mouth on her clit, and Soleil thrusting the dildo into her from behind, Sailor thought she might die from the pleasure. In her life, she had never dreamed that being fucked by these two beautiful people would be so good, and so uninhibited. She wanted Bodhi and she wanted Soleil just as much at this moment. She sucked on Solly’s nipples, then took her turn with the strap on, straddling Solly as Bodhi fucked Sailor in her perfect little ass. She came over and over as they made love for hours, before all three of them collapsed, exhausted. Sailor lay panting in between them. “Wow, just wow.” Bodhi and Solei, both chuckled. “You can say that again,” Bodhi said. He kissed Sailor tenderly. “I love you, boo.” She grinned at him. “And I love you, baby.” She looked at Solei. “Love you, Solly.” “And I like you as a friend,” Solly shot back, grinning and Sailor laughed. “Seriously, though, both of you. You have shown me a world I never knew existed. I’m glad we did

this.” Soleil chuckled, and Bodhi kissed Sailor’s lips. “Me too, baby.” Soleil pulled herself up. “Well, loves, I’m hitting the shower then I think I need to do some work today. I’ll be in the guesthouse if you, um, need me again.” She tugged her dress around her and grinned as she left them alone, blowing them both a kiss on the way out. Sailor wrapped herself around Bodhi, whose arms held her tight. “That was…thank you, Bodhi. Thank you for your generosity.” “Hey, it was my pleasure.” Sailor kissed him, then looked worried. “I hope that wasn’t me cheating on you?” “No, baby,” Bodhi grinned, “that was consensual three-way sex.” “But you and Soleil…” “Like she said, we both wanted to fuck you, and I’m only human, Sails, the thought of you and Solly together…that was hot. And I got to experience it, first hand and in a loving way, so we all win.” He soothed her damp hair away from her face. “When

you think you were still a virgin a few months ago.” Sailor grinned. “I know. I got the best education.” Bodhi laughed. “Yes, you did…now, what shall we do now?” Sailor grinned, and reaching over, picked up the strap-on. “Well, Mr. Creed, since my ass is still aching from your huge cock, I think it’s time we had a little role-reversal. You up for this?” Bodhi laughed. “Hell, yes. Just make sure you lube up really good, baby.” “Oh, I will.” Sailor felt the power of her own body as she fucked Bodhi, feeling sexy and uninhibited and above all else, loved. When she made him cum, hard, and knew he was feeling ultimate the pleasure because of her, her heart soared. Afterward, Bodhi flipped her on her back and thrust his diamond-hard cock into her ready cunt and they fucked until they were both weeping.

L ATER , Sailor and Soleil made plans to travel to Seattle while Bodhi and Tim played Red Dead Redemption on Tim’s PlayStation.

Soleil was on the phone booking them a hotel as Bodhi looked over to them. “Don’t forget to book the extra rooms for the security team.” Soleil rolled her eyes and Sailor grinned. “Surely we’ll be okay?” “That’s what Bay thought.” Bodhi gave her a stern look. “Dad.” Bodhi turned back to the game as Tim got impatient and Soleil stuck her tongue out at him. Sailor looked around at her little family and again felt so lucky. She was also glad there was no awkwardness between her and Soleil, who greeted them both with “Hey, slut” and a huge grin as she came in for dinner earlier and high-fived Sailor. Sailor watched her now. That mouth was on my nipples, those lips on my clit. Soleil winked at her. Sailor had never been attracted to a woman like she was to Soleil, but she wasn’t in love with Solly. Sailor got up and went over to see what the men were doing. Tim grinned at her. “Dad’s terrible at this game.” Bodhi looked despairing. “He’s not wrong.” Sailor sat on the arm of the chair, her arm around Bodhi’s shoulders as she watched them play. Soon

Soleil joined them. “All arranged. We fly up on Thursday, stay overnight at the Four Seasons. Our bodyguards will be staying in style, and you’re paying, Bodhi,” she said cheerfully. Bodhi shrugged good naturedly. “Anything for my girls.” Sailor leaned her head against his shoulder, and Bodhi handed Soleil his game controller. “Here, see if you can make anything of this damned game.” Soleil settled in beside Tim, and soon they were yelling and laughing as they played. Bodhi kissed Sailor’s forehead and gazed down at her. “I love you,” he mouthed, and she smiled. “I love you too,” she whispered and pressed her lips against his.

B AY WRAPPED Sailor in a huge hug then ushered her into the seat next to her bed. Sailor was glad to see that her friend looked better than Sailor had expected, just a little pale. Her post-baby body was already slimming down. Bay grinned when she saw Sailor’s scrutiny. “Breast feeding. Best diet in the world.” Bay winced a little, favoring her left leg as she sat on

the edge of her bed. Sailor squeezed her hand. “Are you in pain?” “Some. Could have been a lot worse.” Bay nodded over to her son, sleeping soundly in his crib. “The terror of Stu being in the same room as Buddy… Sailor, I would have happily died to protect my son, I was damned if Stu Lawson was going to get away with it.” Sailor swallowed. “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. I’m sorry you got dragged into my crap, Bay.” “Don’t be silly. Stu would have come after me anyway. Some men, god, some men think they have a God-given right to say whether a woman lives or dies. Scumbags.” Bay sounded angry and hurt and Sailor’s eyes filled with tears. “I know. I just don’t know what to do.” Bay rubbed her belly unconsciously as she chewed on her bottom lip. “Me either. It’s a bigger problem than either you or me, girl. We just have to deal with this situation. I suspect you feel the same as me, no ivory towers and twenty-four-seven security details, they don’t help with feeling safe.” She sighed. “Honestly, I’m just exhausted of everything. I just want to go away with Tom and the kids and

disappear for a while. Kym and Pete are desperate for a break too. Maybe we should go on hiatus for a year or so.” Sailor nodded. “I know Bodhi has benefitted from not working for a while so maybe it is good. Not like you can’t afford it.” “Well, exactly.” Bay smiled at her. “I was never someone who wanted to be famous, you know. It was the music, that’s the thing I loved, and playing for people. The other stuff can go like, the fame, the press, the ridiculous pedestals people put us on. We’re just musicians, not gods.” Sailor grinned at her. “Speaking from the other side of the fence, you were all gods to me.” Bay laughed. “Well, I can relate. I still can’t get used to having Pearl Jam on speed dial.” Sailor’s eye widened. “Really?” “Really.” Bay was slightly smug, and they both laughed. “Hey.” Tom Meir stood at the door, watching them. Bay’s smile spread wider. “Hey, baby. Look who’s here.” Sailor’s heart thumped as she stood to greet Tom, scared he would rebuff her. Instead, his eyes

softened, and he hugged her. “I’m so sorry, Tom,” Sailor whispered to him as he kissed her cheek. Tom nodded, half smiled, then turned to his wife. “Scooch on over, beauty,” he said, and sat down next to her, his hand on her thigh. “How are you this morning?” Bay leaned into him, and Sailor’s chest hurt at the love between them. She hoped that she and Bodhi would still look at each other when they had been together as long as Bay and Tom had. She got up, meaning to give them privacy but Bay shot her a look. “Where do you think you’re going?” Sailor smiled timidly. “I don’t want to take up all your time.” “Girl, sit down. You only just got here and you haven’t met Buddy properly yet. Tom, tell her.” Tom took Sailor’s hand. “Stay, Sailor. It’s early. Please, stay.”

HEDDA SHAW GRABBED the adult diaper pads and turned to walk out of the maternity ward’s huge

supply closet. She was startled when she realized someone was standing in the doorway. With the light behind her, she didn’t recognize the figure at first, until she spoke. “Hey, there.” Hedda shielded her eyes. “Soleil?” Solly smiled and stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind. “I thought I saw you…I didn’t realize you transferred.” Soleil was smiling, but Hedda heard the edge in her voice. Soleil stepped forward, and Hedda swallowed hard. “Um, yeah, sorry, it was last minute…why are you here, Soleil?” “Visiting a dear friend. Bay Tambe…you know her?” Hedda nodded slowly. Oh fuck… “Of course, she just had a baby.” Soleil put her head to one side. “And was just nearly murdered. That’s surely worth a mention, right? In a secure hospital…guess someone really dropped the ball on keeping the patients safe, huh?” “It’s unfortunate, but it happens.” “In a locked ward?”

Hedda looked away from her gaze. She knows… Hedda’s eye drifted to the boxes where they kept scalpels. Could she get to one before Soleil went for her? “I wouldn’t, Hedda.” Soleil’s voice was like ice. “Now, I think it’s strange that Stuart Lawson was able to gain access to Bay’s room so easily…and just after you transferred, too. Coincidence? I don’t think so.” Hedda risked it and lunged for the scalpels, but Soleil was too fast and too strong. Hedda squeak in terror as Soleil pushed her against the wall, gripping her throat and got in her face. “You little bitch…how long have you been working for Bartholomew Foy? Before we fucked or after? How much is he paying you to help Lawson kill Bay?” Hedda shook her head, terrified. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” “I don’t give a crap about your apology. I care about the people I love. Bart Foy is going down, Hedda, and you can either go with him as an accessory to murder or you can help us. Because believe me, there’s no way I’m letting you get away with what you did. Think about it. You have my number. And one last thing…you’re being watched

so don’t try to run. If you do, you’ll have to deal with me.” Soleil released her grip and stalked out. To Hedda, as Soleil opened the door, she looked like a beautiful avenging angel, only Soleil was most definitely not on her side. “Shit…shit…” Hedda sank to the floor, trembling uncontrollably. Bart Foy scared her even more, but Solei had just proved that she too was not someone Hedda wanted for an enemy. It was only then the weight of what she had done hit Hedda Shaw, and with no other option and no idea what to do, she began to cry.

SAILOR AND SOLEIL left the hospital just after noon, and Soleil insisted on showing Sailor around the city. Sailor loved the cool vibe of the place, down to earth and laid back. They went to the top of the Space Needle and looked out over to the Olympic Mountains and Mt. Rainier. They ate chowder from the concessions stand, sitting at one of the little tables on the viewing deck. They chatted amiably until Solly’s phone buzzed. “Hey, it’s Claudio. Ciao Fratelli!” Sailor smiled as Soleil chatted away in Italian, so

quickly Sailor couldn’t even begin to translate the little she knew. She concentrated instead on the delicious chowder and the incredible view. Yeah, she could imagine living here, not as hot or busy or as fast-paced as L.A. She wondered idly if Bodhi would be up for moving then checked herself. Despite the intensity of their relationship, she really didn’t think they were ready to discuss moving his whole life entirely on a whim of hers. Sailor rocked back a little, realizing, despite his great generosity, she really didn’t have parity with Bodhi in their relationship, and not just financially. The thought depressed her. I was meant to do… something, she thought now. “Hey.” Soleil had finished her call. “You’ll never guess where Claudio is right now. Seattle. Uh-huh,” she nodded as Sailor looked surprised. “He had a last-minute meeting with Grady Mallory at the art museum and flew in yesterday. He wants to know if we can be free for dinner tonight?” “Of course,” Sailor was delighted; she had liked Claudio Fonseca very much.

C LAUDIO THREW his arms around both of them as they arrived at the restaurant. Claudio’s companion, Grady Mallory watched with a grin on

his handsome face as his friend made a fuss of his sister and her friend, then Claudio introduced him to Sailor, Soleil was clearly already acquainted with the other man. Over dinner, Sailor discovered Grady was a Seattle native, part of the very rich, very famous Mallory family and had recently had a new baby with his wife, Floriana. He showed Sailor the photo of his new daughter. She was adorable and Sailor told him so. “You have any more children?” “Two,” Grady said proudly, “Flori loves being pregnant for some reason.” Sailor grinned. “I wouldn’t know about that, but you two sure do produce gorgeous offspring.” Grady grinned his thanks. The rest of the dinner was fun as Sailor and Grady watched Claudio and Soleil bicker and tease each other in the way only siblings could. Later, Grady asked Sailor about her art and Sailor looked surprised. “I told him,” Soleil interrupted, smirking. “Both Bodhi and I have seen what she can do, Grady, although she is very good at hiding it.” Sailor was surprised. Yes, she loved drawing, and

would often sit sketching in the evenings while Bodhi and Tim played computer games, but she hadn’t noticed Soleil taking a particular interest in her art. Grady nodded. “Listen, have you heard of The Quilla Chen Mallory Foundation?” Sailor shook her head. “It’s named for my sister-in-law, and through it, Quilla, Flori and I all work towards giving emerging artists a helping hand. We’re very much looking for tutors for a Los Angeles office we’re thinking of opening. Would you be interested?” Sailor’s cheeks flushed. “Grady…look, that’s very kind, but I’m nowhere near qualified. I just sketch for a hobby.” Grady smiled and took out a business card. “Well, then, keep in touch…maybe there’s some other area you’d like to get involved in.”

AS SAILOR and Soleil were being walked back to the hotel by Claudio, Sailor couldn’t stop thinking about Grady’s offer. Maybe she could be useful, and she could actually use a focus right now. Suddenly she felt a new energy inside of her, as much as she loved Bodhi and their life together, she

needed something of her own to feel a connection to the earth. If their relationship was made public, she wanted to be more in this life than just Bodhi Creed’s girlfriend. She was so absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t see Soleil on her phone, and Claudio dropping back to walk with Sailor. “Hey, kiddo. How do you like Seattle?” She smiled up at him. She had liked Claudio from the first, his fun-loving side coming out when his sister or Bodhi was with him. She also felt she could talk to him about anything. “I love it, so beautiful.” “You know, Bodhi was raised here for much of his childhood? That’s where we met him. Our father was working with Boing at the time, as was Bodhi’s dad, and they became friends so when he brought us over on school vacations, we would all hang out.” “I never knew that,” Sailor said, smiling. “That’s cool.” “He’s my brother,” Claudio said, and almost too late, Sailor realized that he was giving her the ‘Don’t hurt my brother’ talk, in a very sweet, subtle way. She nudged his shoulder with hers.

“Don’t worry, Claudio, I’d rather die than hurt Bodhi, Tim, or any of you. You are my family now, and you’ll never know how grateful I am for you all.” Claudio, seemingly satisfied with this, kissed her cheek. “Good girl. If it’s any help, I’ve never seen Bodhi so wiped out by love. It’s a beautiful thing.” Sailor was touched. “Claudio, I can promise you… we will all be happy together if I have anything to do with it.”

SHE HAD no idea how soon that promise would be broken.

“B ART FOY HAS GONE VERY, very quiet,” Bodhi announced at breakfast a few weeks later. “The Feds leaned on him about Stuart Lawson, but he covered his tracks very well.” Sailor looked at him unhappily. “That doesn’t surprise me.” Soleil spooned the last of her yogurt into her mouth. “How do you know all of this?” “I have a contact at the Bureau.”

Soleil grinned. “Impressive.” Bodhi grinned, but Sailor didn’t smile. “It’s when he goes quiet that I start to panic,” she lowered her voice so Tim, who was running around packing his backpack for school, wouldn’t hear. “Back in the commune, it meant someone had stepped out of line and that bad times were coming. Dark times.” She felt tearful, and Bodhi stroked her cheek. “What is it?” Sailor just shook her head. “Just…a hidden enemy, you know? It’s harder to stay ahead of them.” “Ahead of who?” Tim had rejoined them without Sailor seeing, and for a second, she floundered for an answer. “Emails,” Soleil rescued Sailor, then mussed Tim’s hair. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get going.” Sailor looked at her gratefully, and Solly winked. “Listen, I have a meeting after I drop Tim off, so you two will have the place to yourselves for a while. To, um, work, you know?” She winked at both of them, then laughed as she left the house with Tim. “Bye, gorgeous people.” “Bye, nut job,” Bodhi called out after her and Sailor laughed, feeling her spirits lift.

When they were alone, Bodhi leaned over to kiss Sailor. “Sails, I’ve been thinking…it might be time for me to get back to work. Record some new stuff, do some press, and I’m thinking maybe we could kill two birds with one stone.” “How’s that?” “I think we need to go public with our relationship.” Sailor gaped at him. “Why?” “Because the more Bart Foy realizes that you are protected, that you are loved, the less likely he is to risk coming after you. He might think you’re anonymous enough that he could, and I hate these words coming out of my mouth, that he could kill you and no-one would think anything of a young biracial woman being murdered in this town. God knows how many people straight off the bus from everywhere go missing, especially young women. This could be where my fame, for want of a better word, could actually be of help. From what I can see, Bart Foy won’t risk being exposed as a murderer or a charlatan. I don’t mean this to sound egotistical, and of course, you are much, much more than just my lover, but being Bodhi Creed’s girlfriend automatically gives you an extra layer of public protection. No-one can touch us.”

Sailor chewed this over. “Conversely,” she said, “Bart could think I might expose him in a bigger arena and come after me.” Bodhi’s smile faded, and he sighed. “God, Sails, if I could get my hands on him.” She stroked his face. “I know, baby. And I think you might be right, at least, we could consider it, because I have an idea. Maybe if I did an interview with you and not mention names, but make it clear where I come from, what I’ve seen. Bart will know I’m ready and willing to talk about him. He might panic. He might make a mistake and then we’ve got him.” Bodhi looked unhappy. “Using yourself as bait is not an answer.” “We have to use what is available to us, Bodhi. Until the threat of Bart Foy is gone, then I don’t know how to really feel free. Be free. I don’t want a death threat to follow me around forever.” Bodhi took her in his arms. “I know. I know.” He sighed, pressing his lips to her temple. “We’ll work it out. We’ll work something out.” She tilted her head up for a kiss. “In the meantime, I’ve been thinking about Grady Mallory’s offer.” Bodhi looked surprised. “You have? That’s great

news.” “I still don’t think I’m right to be an art tutor,” she said, sitting down on the couch with him. “But I know what I’m good at and that’s organization, scheduling, all the dull stuff.” She grinned at Bodhi. “I know, it’s a bore to you, but it gives me a sense of control. If the Foundation is opening a branch in Los Angeles, then they’ll need someone like that.” Bodhi smiled at her enthusiasm. “I see you as much more than a paper pusher, Sailor.” “Well, maybe I could handle the charitable part, arrange benefits, or marketing…something like that. I don’t have an awful lot of experience in anything, as you know,” she grinned at his wicked smile, “except some things, Mr. Creed, I think I’m becoming an expert.” “I would agree with that.” They were both laughing now. “See, I was having a serious conversation about a possible career, and you have to bring up sex.” Bodhi laughed loudly. “You brought up sex, you little nympho.” “Fair enough.” She snuggled into his arms. “So, what did you have in mind for today? Recording sessions?”

His fingers were trailing up and down her spine. “I was thinking of going into the recording studio, but not recording.” “Oh?” “Uh-huh. I was going to take my girlfriend in there and fuck her senseless on the mixing board.” Sailor started giggling. “Oh, you were huh?” “Oh yeah. Well, first I’d strip her slowly, then put my face in her sex and suck and taste her until she came…” Sailor was getting very turned on by his dirty talk, and she looked up into his intense green eyes and he brushed his lips against hers. “Then,” he continued in a low, slow, sensual voice, “I would part her legs and put my cock inside her so hard that she would scream my name so loud that even the soundproofing couldn’t muffle her cries…” Sailor moaned softly. “Put your hands on me, Bodhi Creed.” Bodhi pulled her top down and took her nipple into his mouth, his fingers sliding into the waistband of her denim shorts, stroking her lower belly then massaging her clit. “You’re getting wet, baby.” Sailor responded with a moan then Bodhi tumbled

her to the carpet, yanking her shorts and her panties down. “This isn’t the recording studio,” Sailor chuckled as he kissed her belly then blew raspberries on it, making her shriek with laughter. “There’s time enough for the studio,” he said gruffly, hitching her legs around his and thrusting his rigid cock inside her. Sailor sighed happily as they began to make love, and she thought to herself, Maybe. Maybe Bodhi’s right. Maybe noone can touch us… In the next few hours, she would be shown, in the most painful way possible, just how wrong they both were.

“YOU GOT THE WORDS WRONG AGAIN ,” Tim complained, and Soleil rolled her eyes, going back over the song they were singing together again. As usual, the Los Angeles traffic had ground to a halt, and the clock was edging ever nearer to nine. Tim didn’t seem bothered by being late, but it made her feel like a bad aunt, so she’d deliberately set off a few minutes earlier, only to be constrained by a traffic accident up ahead. “Dang it,” she said, for once not cursing in Tim’s presence. That made her feel like a bad aunt too. She glanced over to Tim. He was so different from

the shy, sullen boy she’d met almost a year ago; he had thrived under Bodhi, Sailor’s and she had to admit, even her own care. “Hey kiddo, you talk to your mom this week?” Tim nodded. “She says she’s feeling a lot better now. I talked to Evan too.” “You did? That’s good.” “Yeah. I didn’t tell Dad that. I don’t think he likes Evan.” Soleil smiled at Tim. “He just doesn’t know him, buddy. I think your Dad’s just a little jealous that Evan got to raise for so many years.” “Okay. But that’s not Evan’s fault.” “No, it’s not. And it’s not your dad’s, it’s just how things are.” Tim was silent for a long time. “I think it’s my mom’s fault. I feel kind of angry with her.” Soleil shook her head. “No, Timbo. Sometimes we make decisions based on what is the best at the time. Your mom made a choice. Whether it was the best one or not, it was her choice. That’s all anyone could do.” “I don’t want to go back to live with her.”

That shocked Soleil, and she swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. “Why not, pal?” “Because…I think I make her sad. That’s why she went away.” Tim’s word broke Soleil’s, heart. “No, sweetheart, you didn’t make her sad. And look at it this way, because your mom was sad, and that happens to us from time to time, you got to know your dad, and Sailor and me. And your grandma and Claudio and Tag, of course.” Tim smiled at the mention of his canine friend back in Italy. “I’d like a dog.” “Talk to your dad, I’m sure he’d get you one.” Tim nodded happily. “I like living with Dad and Sailor and you. Will you live with us forever?” Soleil, touched, grinned at him. “Sure you want me to? You know those missing Pop Tarts? That was me.” Tim laughed. “I knew they hadn’t been stolen!” Soleil peered out at the traffic in frustration. “Timbo, I’m going to get off the freeway here and go a different way. It might make us a little late, but not more than this damn traffic will. Okay with you?”

“Sure.” Soleil pulled the car onto the off-ramp and off the freeway, not noticing the black SUV following behind them. They drove around the back streets for a while until they were only a few blocks from Tim’s school. “So, what you got on today, kid…” Soleil didn’t finish her sentence as her car was sidelined by the black SUV. It cornered their vehicle, slamming into it again and again, and didn’t let up until both Soleil and Tim were both stunned and concussed. Then Tim’s door was wrenched open, and he was grabbed by a large man. Tim started to scream and Soleil, yelling, was about to get out of her seat when she was grabbed and pinned back against her seat by someone who jumped in the back of her car. A hand was clamped over her mouth. A tall man, dragging Tim around to Soleil’s door, held Tim’s head, so he was staring directly at Soleil. “Now, watch, Timmy. Watch what happens when you disobey me.” Soleil, unable to move, saw Udo slip into the passenger seat. In his hand, a switchblade knife. Soleil tried to free herself as Udo cut open her shirt, but when she knew it was too late, she bit the hand

covering her mouth. As the man behind her cursed, she turned to Tim with desperation in her eyes. “Don’t watch, Timmy, close your eyes.” Bart Foy smiled at her. “No, do watch, Timmy… this will be fun.” Udo stabbed Soleil repeatedly as Tim screamed. Solly gasped as the knife cut through her belly again and again, viciously, Udo smiling the entire time, before Bart told him to stop. Bart released a sobbing, hysterical Tim to his guard, and stepped up to the dying woman. Soleil moaned, her wounds pumping her precious blood out of her body. “If you live long enough, beautiful girl, tell Sailor that this can happen to her bastard lover’s son or it can happen to her. It’s her choice.” Bart ran a fingertip down Soleil’s face as she bled out. “A shame. What a lovely woman.” He looked at Udo who handed him the knife, and with one brutal movement, Bart plunged the blade into Soleil’s stomach one last time. She vomited a fountain of blood as she heard Tim’s screaming getting further away. Soleil now left alone, her hands freed, knew she was dying. She clutched the wounds on her abdomen and threw herself out of the car onto the hot asphalt, causing a scene, desperately to get her message across before she died. She heard voices,

alarms, sirens, the sound of people rushing to her aid. The pain was unimaginable. It’s too late…it’s too late. I’m dead… As the first responders reached her, she pulled his head close and repeated what Bart had said to her. Tell them…tell them I’m sorry…Bodhi…Sailor… Tim…save Tim…

“JESUS, JESUS,” the cyclist bent over the bloodied, brutalized girl on the road and tried to give her first aid. Another woman rushed over. “I’ve called 911.” The cyclist gave the stricken woman chest compressions as the woman blew oxygen into the girl’s lungs. She told him to stop a moment, felt for a pulse then shook her head. “She’s gone. She’s gone.” A cop car pulled up then, and two cops rushed over. The cyclist, trembling shook his head. “She’s dead.” One of the cops was staring down at Soleil’s dead body intently, and then he cursed loudly. “Fuck.” “What?” “That’s Bodhi Creed’s girlfriend. Jesus H Christ,

that’s his girlfriend.” The other cop looked shocked. “Dammit, call it in. And someone get over to Bodhi Creed’s house. This is going to be all over the news.” As the first cop called in the murder, he examined Soleil’s car and paled. “God…look.” He held up a child’s knapsack. “She had a kid in the car… where’s the kid? Where’s the goddamned kid?”

B ODHI AND SAILOR sat on the couch too shocked and devastated to say anything. The detective watched them carefully. “You understand what I’m saying?” Bodhi turned pained eyes to him. “Soleil is dead… and my son is missing. Missing.” The detective, Jim Wallis, nodded. “Obviously, this has just happened, so we’re gathering information. Before she died, Ms. Fonseca told a witness that she was given a message for you, Miss King. Something like “This will happen to the boy or it will happen to you. Your choice.” Does that mean anything?” Sailor, haunted, nodded. She explained everything about her escape from Bartholomew Foy and the cult, how Bay Tambe had been dragged into it, and

now Solly. Oh god, Solly, I’m sorry… “He likes to kill women, detective. That’s the crux of the matter. He wants to kill me. That’s why he’s holding Tim so that I’ll go to him.” She turned to Bodhi. “Bodhi…I have to go to him. It’s Tim’s only chance.” “No,” both Bodhi and Jim Wallis were vehement in their response. “That’s not an option, Miss King,” continued Jim Wallis as Bodhi dropped his face into his hands. “We will find Tim, I promise you.” “You don’t know Bart,” Sailor said in despair, “He has no humanity, no morality, and his people are everywhere. He probably has some in law enforcement.” “I don’t doubt it,” Jim said grimly, “But I can promise you for sure; he will not get away with this.” His cell phone rang, and he excused himself. Bodhi put his arms around Sailor “Soleil’s dead.” His voice was breaking, and he leaned his head against her. “And my son…god…” Sailor couldn’t help the tears. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Bodhi. If I hadn’t…” “Don’t finish that sentence,” he said, his eyes closed. “I couldn’t live without you, Sailor. This is

when it ends, you know, this is when Bart Foy is brought to his knees.” Sailor nodded. “Even if it costs me everything, Bodhi, I will get Tim back for you.” Bodhi opened his eyes and gazed at her. “We do this together, okay? Don’t you dare sacrifice yourself. Bart Foy doesn’t get to kill anyone else.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I have to call Claudio to tell him. How the hell am I going to do that?”

JIM W ALLIS CAME BACK a short time later. “Mr. Creed…I’m sorry to have to ask you to do this, but we need someone to identify Ms. Fonseca’s body.” Bodhi nodded, his face drained of color. “Of course. I have to call her brother; I think he’s still in Seattle…he’ll want to come and claim her body once the medical examiner releases it.” “Of course. Look, we’re going to keep some people here for protection and to keep the press away. Someone must have called them almost as soon as it happened. Some journalists are outside now, but we’re keeping them away from the gate. Would you come with us now, Mr. Creed, before they start flocking?”

Sailor told him she would wait for him at home and he went to grab a sweater. Sailor pulled Jim Wallis aside. “How did she die, Detective Wallis? Please tell me. Bart…he has a favorite method.” Jim Wallis hesitated then sighed. “Ms. Fonseca was stabbed repeatedly, Miss King.” “In the abdomen?” He nodded and Sailor sighed. “Yes. That’s Bart’s mo. That’s what turns him on. I just hope to god that Tim didn’t see it happen.” “I hope so too.”

B ODHI GAZED down at the face of his much-loved friend. In death, Soleil was just as beautiful, but the sparkle, her light, her humor, her energy…now Bodhi knew what the term ‘snuffed out’ really meant. She lay naked under a blood-soaked sheet; the medical examiner hadn’t had time to clean her wounds yet, but it was obvious where she had been stabbed, how horrifically she had been murdered. “God, Solly, I’m so sorry,” he whispered again and again. Her eyes were closed, and Bodhi couldn’t understand how he’d never see them dance with laughter again. How could Soleil, of all people, be dead? Funny, smart, sexy, loving Solly. His tears

dripped onto her face as he kissed her cold forehead and he heard the medical examiner cough. Jim Wallis touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Mr. Creed but, you know, chain of evidence.” Bodhi nodded. “Of course.” He shook his head, still unable to believe Soleil was dead. He turned to Jim Wallis. “We need to call Claudio Fonseca now before the press puts this online.”

THEY WERE TOO LATE. Sailor took the call from a near hysterical Claudio, who screamed at her that it was her fault Soleil was dead, and why the hell hadn’t they called him immediately and how could his beloved sister be dead? Sailor took it all, every word of abuse, feeling like she deserved it. Finally, when Claudio, sobbing, had calmed down, he asked to speak to Bodhi. “He’s not here, Claudio…he’s at the medical examiner’s office…identifying Solly’s body.” Another wave of ranting, and cursing in Italian. Sailor waited for him to finish, feeling as if she were in the body of someone else. Numb. “Claudio, Tim is missing. They took Tim. If you think you’re the only one blaming me for this, you’re wrong.”

The phone went dead. Sailor put her cell phone down gently, and steadying herself, switched on the television. Sure enough, Soleil’s murder was breaking news on every channel. A photograph of Bodhi Creed’s now dead ‘girlfriend’ was front and center, along with a photograph of Tim. Too late, Sailor realized they had forgotten someone in the terror, the horror of Tim’s abduction. Someone who, if they had seen this broadcast, would now be in hysterics. Tim’s mother. Gemma. Her legs shaking, Sailor went to find a police officer. There was a commotion at the front door, and for a terrible moment, Sailor thought the press had got in. A moment later, a smartly dressed man with short brown hair and a kind but serious face approached her. “Miss King?” Sailor nodded, glancing at the officer behind the newcomer who nodded. The visitor saw her hesitation and reached into his pocket for his i.d. “Miss King, my name is Evan Teal, I’m an F.B.I, agent and…” Sailor recognized the pain in his eyes and immediately knew just who he was. “And the man

who brought up Tim.” Evan Teal nodded, and Sailor did the only thing she could think of to do in this situation. She hugged him. Evan hugged her back tightly. In this situation, they were family even if they had never met before. When they released each other, Sailor led him to sit on the couch with her. Evan ran a hand through his short brown curls. “Sailor, please, just tell me everything. Everything. I called Gemma; she’s on her way down, so for everyone’s benefit, let’s get it all out in the open.”

SAILOR HAD BRACED herself for the torrent of rage coming her way, but when Claudio and Gemma arrived at the same time, she realized she had under estimated. The grief and anger were all-consuming and entirely directed at her, so much so that by the time Bodhi arrived home, Sailor had been corned by both of them and was almost cringing at the force of their barrage. “What the fuck is going on?” Bodhi batted Claudio and Gemma out of the way and stepped in front of Sailor. “Enough!” Both Claudio and Gemma were silent then. Bodhi

turned to Sailor. “You okay, baby?” She nodded, too stunned to speak. Bodhi turned back to his friend, and the mother of his beloved Tim. “Stop it,” he said gently, “both of you. This isn’t Sailor’s fault. This is the work of a very, very sick man. Claudio, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am…Soleil didn’t deserve this. She was murdered because I stupidly believed she and Tim were safe, that Sailor was the only one at risk. I should have insisted on them taking a bodyguard, but, from what I understand, they were ambushed by a few people.” “And my son?” Gemma’s voice broke. “Our son…our son has been taken, yes. But, I believe he is alive. Bart Foy wants Sailor, so he’ll keep Tim alive as long as he hasn’t got her.” Gemma sneered at him. “So? Give her to him, what is she to me? What is she worth when Tim’s life is on the line?” Sailor closed her eyes. Nothing. I am worth nothing. When Bodhi spoke, the steel in his voice was obvious. “She is the love of my life, Gemma. Just as Tim is. Don’t ever, ever talk like that about

Sailor again. Do you understand me.” Gemma turned away, then exclaimed as Evan Teal reentered the room. “Evan!” She flew across the room into his arms. Evan looked uncomfortable, glancing over Gemma’s shoulder at Bodhi, then Sailor. When Gemma released him, he stepped forward and offered Bodhi his hand. “Evan Teal.” Bodhi shook it. “Bodhi Creed. Thanks for being here, Evan. Thanks for looking after…” His voice broke, and Sailor went to him, ignoring Claudio’s glowering look. She stroked Bodhi’s back, and he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She could feel his silent sobs rack his body. “Okay,” said Evan calmly, after a few minutes, “let’s all be calm and work this problem through. Shall we sit?” They were about to sit when another detective came in and grabbed the remote. “You have to see this.” He flicked on the television and immediately an image of Soleil, bleeding out on the asphalt where she was found flickered on the screen. Claudio collapsed to the floor, batting Bodhi’s hand away, and as they watched in mounting horror, the newscaster told the world about the murder, the

kidnapping. A photograph of Tim, obviously taken from a distance, at his school. “Where the fuck did they get that?” Bodhi was incensed, but then a moment later, something far worse was shown. A video, taken from an awkward angle, above a familiar scene. Three people. In bed. Sailor gasped in horror as the television news broadcast the pictures of her being ecstatically fucked by both Soleil and Bodhi to millions of viewers worldwide. For a long moment, they all froze…then Claudio lunged for Bodhi.

SAILOR SAT in the darkened guesthouse, watching Claudio and Bodhi argue violently in the main house. After Claudio, had seen the video of his beloved sister making love with his friend, and the woman he blamed for her death, he had gone mad, pounding on Bodhi, who just seemed to take it. After Evan and another cop hauled Claudio off of him, Bodhi had simply got to his feet and turned to her. “Go wait in the guesthouse, baby. You don’t need to hear this.” She had fled, but now she felt wretched. God, was

it worth it? All this horror, this pain? Sailor pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her face on her knees. How the hell were they going to get Tim back if she, Sailor, was to remain safe? She couldn’t see a way. Take me, she willed Bart, come take me, kill me, and leave them all alone. She kept seeing the image of Soleil, beautiful, amazing Soleil, stabbed to death. It should have been me. She started as a cell phone began to ring, and she frowned. Her own cell phone was back in the main house, and there was no land line. Sailor got up, trying to trace the sound of the phone. She walked around, confused until she traced it to the bookcase. She pulled out a heavy copy of Othello and opened it. The book had been hollowed out and inside, a ringing cell phone. She took the call. “My darling Sailor.” Her blood run like ice, Sailor heard Bart’s voice for the first time in nearly a year. It sent horror shooting through her; her stomach clenched, her heart beat faster. “You bastard. Where’s Tim? What have you done to him?” Bart laughed softly. “He’s fine…a little, how shall I

say this, a little subdued, a little traumatized. It was his first time seeing a killing.” Sailor’s throat closed up, and her knees gave way. She sank to the floor. “You made him watch you kill Soleil? You…” She didn’t have the words. “What a beautiful woman…what a pleasure to kill her. Now, don’t collapse on me, Sailor, you need to listen to me. Sit back on that couch.” He was watching her. Of course. That’s how they got the footage of her, Bodhi and Soleil. She glanced around the room, and Bart laughed. “Hello, pretty girl. Yes, Sailor, I can see you. I’ve been watching you for months now, fucking that sleazy rockstar, and the now-dead whore. Well, well, well…you broke the rules, Sailor. You gave away what’s mine. You will have to be punished.” Sailor went to the corner of the room and scooched down in it so that people in the main house wouldn’t be able to see her distress. “Please…Bart, don’t hurt Tim. I beg you. Don’t hurt him.” “Sailor, you have my word that I will not harm the child…if you do exactly what I say. If you give yourself to me.” “Anything, anything. Please just…tell me what I have to do.”

Bart laughed softly. “That’s my Sailor girl. Now, listen…”

AFTER A STILL- RAGING C LAUDIO had left to go see his sister’s body and make arrangements, Evan, who Bodhi had warmed to immensely, took a weeping Gemma back to her hotel. “I’ll come back in the morning, Bodhi, if I may. I want to be as much help as I can.” Bodhi shook his hand, holding his gaze. “Thank you, Evan. Not just for today, but for bringing my son up to be a wonderful man. I can never thank you enough.” Evan smiled, a little shyly. “I love Tim, and it was entirely my pleasure. I’m glad you have bonded so well. He loves you, Bodhi, he really does.” Bodhi tried to hold back the tears, but was unable. “Thank you, Evan.” “We will get him back safely, Bodhi, if it’s the last thing I do. I swear that to you.” Bodhi nodded, but couldn’t speak. After they had left, Gemma still refusing to speak to Bodhi, Bodhi went to the guesthouse to find Sailor curled up on the sofa, her eyes haunted. Bodhi sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her. “Well, my

beautiful girl…now it’s a waiting game. The F.B.I. want to wait for Bart to get in touch. We already know what he wants, but he’s not going to get it.” Sailor said nothing, but buried her face in his neck. Bodhi could feel her trembling. “Try not to dwell on what Claudio and Gemma said to you; it came from a place of grief.” “They were right. This is my fault.” “No,” Bodhi’s voice was harsh and he made her look him in the eye. “It’s not. It’s the work of a madman, a psychopath. You did nothing wrong, do you hear me? I would not change a moment of time I spent with you. Nor would Tim, nor would Soleil. I am so in love with you, Sailor, you are my world as much as Tim, as much as Soleil was. God.” “It hurts to hear her name in the past tense,” Sailor said, her voice breaking, “I can’t believe she’s dead. When I saw that photograph of her body… Bodhi, it was like seeing those photographs of Tilly all over again. The way she was killed…exactly the same. Bart has taken every important female figure in my life away from me, my mother, Tilly, Soleil. I can’t help feeling that if I had just given him what he wanted…” “That’s bullshit.” Bodhi was up now, pacing. “Sailor, I see you murdered every night, in

nightmares, I can’t stop them. Stabbed to death like Soleil was...I cannot handle you talking like that. If I lost you…” “Ssh, ssh, ssh.” Sailor got up and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his mouth gently. “I’m still here, baby, still here…” Her voice broke, and Bodhi gave a groan and kissed her roughly, pouring all his pain into the kiss. He tore her shirt from her and took each nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, biting down on the nubs. Sailor pulled him to the floor and wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed her skirt up over her hips and tore her underwear away. He couldn’t wait to be inside her and thrust hard, hid cock straining to be enveloped by her velvety cunt. They fucked each other hard, almost animalistic, feral, desperate to purge themselves of the sadness that weighted them down. They stayed in the guesthouse, the bedroom in the main house they’d shared for that one glorious night with Soleil, now sullied. A tomb.

I N THE MORNING , Bodhi woke up, the bed beside empty. He could hear Sailor in the little kitchenette. For a moment, he closed his eyes and pretended

everything was normal, everything was okay. That his son, his Tim, wasn’t being held by a madman who wanted to kill Sailor, that his beloved friend Soleil hadn’t been brutally murdered. Bodhi sighed, the sadness inside him weighing him down. He stared up at the ceiling, and his attention was caught by the tiniest red-light blinking. He sat up and cursed. Fucker had put cameras everywhere. Bodhi was about to reach up and rip the camera out of its hiding place behind the slatted door of the closet when he heard a crash and Sailor cry out. He darted into the kitchen where he saw her on the floor, moaning, holding her left arm which he could see straight away was broken. “What happened?” “I was trying to reach the other skillet, the one that’s on the top of the cabinet,” Sailor winced as Bodhi gently held her broken arm. “I slipped. Oh, fuck it, fuck it…” “Come on.” He swept her up into his arms easily, “You need to get to the hospital. Cedars is closest.” Sailor, gasping with pain, stopped him. “Could you grab my jeans? I can’t go to the hospital in my underwear?”

Bodhi half-smiled. “The doctors wouldn’t mind. Okay, just stay here for a moment.”

AS B ODHI WENT to the bedroom, Sailor very deliberately looking at the top of the oven to the extractor hood and said “Cedars Sinai. Cedars Sinai.” Bodhi was back almost immediately. “You okay?” She nodded, and he helped her pull on her jeans and sweater, then dressed himself quickly. They walked out to the garage, his security detail jumping to attention. “We need to get to Cedars… Sailor has broken her arm.” “Okay, on it.” Bodhi helped Sailor into the back of the SUV, but then turned back to another man. “Greg, sweep the entire property for cameras and any other surveillance devices. That cocksucker Foy has been watching us; that’s how they got the video of us.” “Right, boss.” Bodhi got into the car with Sailor, helping her put her seat belt on. “What a stupid idiot I am,” she said, apologetically. “This is the last thing you need.”

“Could have happened to anyone, baby. Let’s get you fixed up.

B ART FOY WATCHED the video feed in satisfaction. Sailor had executed his plan perfectly. He got a little extra thrill at seeing her hurt…which would be nothing to how he would feel later, her blood on his hands, her lifeless body in his arms. Soon, so soon. He turned to the man waiting. “Blindfold the kid. We need to get to Cedars Sinai.”

SAILOR WATCHED the doctor as he wound the last piece of plaster soaked bandage around her arm. “Now, it’s going to be painful for quite a while. Thankfully, it’s a straight break so you should be okay in time. Are you in much pain?” Sailor nodded. “A little.” The doctor smiled at her. “I’ll go get you some pain relief. Would you like me to ask Mr. Creed to come in now?” Sailor swallowed hard. “Not just yet, I need some time.” The doctor patted her good arm. “Of course. I’ll be

right back.” As soon as he left, Sailor grabbed every sharp implement she could find, a scalpel, scissors, and darted to the door. She could see Bodhi at the end of the hall, talking to the doctor. Quickly, she sped across the hall to the elevator and pressed the call button. She flattened herself against the wall as she waited then darted in and pressed the button to the basement. In the elevator, she shoved the scalpel and scissors down the side of her still malleable cast. As the elevator reached the basement, she slipped out and waited. “Sailor!” She heard Tim’s voice as he was dragged into the light by Bart. Salem, Bart’s main henchman, aimed a gun at her, and Sailor also saw Udo, the security guard Tim had been scared of. Tim looked unharmed, but his eyes were haunted, and he was obviously terrified. “Send Tim over, and as soon as he’s in the elevator, I’m yours.” Sailor managed to keep her voice steady. Bart looked amused, but nodded to Udo. The big man walked Tim over to her, and as they reached

her, Tim threw his arms around Sailor and burst into tears. “They killed Auntie Solly,” he sobbed, and she hugged him tightly, her own tears flowing. “I know, baby, I know…look, Timmy, when you get in the elevator, press number nine and don’t get out or speak to anyone else. Your dad is up there. Tell him,” her voice broke, “Tell him I’m sorry and that I love you both so much. So much.” “I’m not leaving you,” Tim began to wail but Sailor, barely keeping herself calm, pushed him gently into the elevator. “You have to, baby, please. I love you.” “Sailor!” She couldn’t bear it any longer and pushed the close-door button. “I love you so much,” she repeated as she heard him wailing and screaming her name. She watched as the elevator climbed to floor nine, then felt a pistol being pushed against the small of her back. “Time to go, Sailor,” Bart said with a slight edge in his voice, and nodding, she was led to his car, and to her certain death.

B ODHI GOT ALARMED when the doctor who was treating Sailor came to see him. “Has Miss King come by here? I can’t find her.” Bodhi’s heart began thumping. “No…she was in the treatment room…did you leave her alone?” “Yes, to get some pain medication…where is she?” Bodhi felt the panic rise up inside of him, but the next moment, he heard the scream of a child, a child screaming for his daddy, and saw Tim rushing towards him. Bodhi ran to sweep Tim up in his arms and hug him tightly. “Oh god, Timbo, Timbo…I love you, I love you.” “Daddy, my Daddy.” Tim held onto Bodhi’s neck so tightly he was almost strangling him, but Bodhi didn’t care. There was chaos all around him. “Daddy,” Tim was sobbing, tears and snot dripping down his face, “Sailor. Sailor came and she said to find you and the bad man had a gun and he took her…Daddy…Daddy.” Bodhi’s blood ran cold, and he closed his eyes. Of course. Of course. Sailor had sacrificed herself for Tim. Why hadn’t he realized? She’d broken her own arm to get here. Oh, god…

The doctor ushered them into a private room and began to examine Tim. The child wriggled, never taking his eyes off his father. “Daddy, they put a blindfold on me to come here, but it came loose, and I could see, Daddy. I could see the way to where they took me.” Bodhi gaped at his son as the boy recited the journey back to where Bodhi hoped against hope, they would be able to find Sailor before Bart Foy carried out his promise to end her life.

THEY HADN ’ T GONE FAR , Sailor realized, as they drove out of the city. They hadn’t blindfolded her, why would they need to blindfold a dead woman? They arrived at a disused airplane hangar just outside the city. She was alone with Bart now. He pulled up a chair and sat in front of her. Gently he undid the buttons on the front of her dress and pulled the fabric apart, exposing her belly. Sailor felt strangely disconnected. She was about to be murdered, horrifically, painfully, and yet… She could only feel relieved that Tim was safe. Maybe those few deliriously happy months she had spent with Bodhi and Tim were her reward for going to her death so easily.

Bart smiled at her. “So, we’re here at last, and now I will begin the process of ending your life, Sailor. As I can hear the sirens, I won’t make a long speech.” He had a switchblade knife. “Udo used this to kill your beautiful friend…seeing as how you fucked her like the little whore you are, it seems fitting you should suffer the same fate.” Sailor drew in a sharp intake of breath as Bart placed the tip of the knife in the hollow of her navel. “Sailor…I’m not going to lie and tell you your death will be quick and painless. Quite the opposite. I’m going to gut you, darling, slowly.” And he pushed the blade deep into her belly. Sailor couldn’t believe the pain; it was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Every severed nerve ending screamed with agony, and as Bart yanked the knife out, blood began to pump from the wound, soaking her skin, her underwear. Sailor felt her head whirl, her body react to the assault. Bart watched her with obvious enjoyment. “See, my lovely Sailor? I remember doing this to your mother. She was almost as beautiful as you.” He stabbed her again, and Sailor cried out as the knife sunk into her stomach. “Your mother begged me for her life. But I told her…she betrayed me. She betrayed you, Sailor…she was going to take

you away from your rightful place…” He sunk the knife into her belly again and Sailor began to feel lightheaded, her chest constricting as she began to lose consciousness. She could smell her blood as it pumped from her wounds. Bart leaned in and kissed her mouth. “She was going to take you away from me, your future husband, Sailor…” He smiled as he stabbed her one last time, an inch above her navel. “She was going to take you away from me…your father, Sailor…” Sailor’s eyes opened in horror and suddenly, being butchered by this man’s knife wasn’t the most horrific thing in her life. “You’re lying,” she gasped, and Bart laughed. “You know I’m not, lovely one. My Sailor, my daughter.” He cut the ropes binding her and laid her on the floor. Sailor, struggling to breathe now, tried to press her hand against the wounds, tried to stem the blood, but she knew it was useless now. Bart stroked her face tenderly and picked up a camera. “Just some photographs to send to your beloved Bodhi Creed.” Sailor closed her eyes. It was over. All over. She would die here and… She was hovering at the very edge of life when

from what seemed far away, there were voices, shouting, angry, desperate. She could barely open her eyes, but when she did, it was in short blinks. One. Bodhi’s beautiful face, tears streaming down his face, begging her to live. I have brought you so much pain, my love. Two. Bart Foy’s face – her father’s face raging. Three. Bodhi’s face, roaring with anger, with a vengeance as he pumped bullets into Bart’s head, and her father’s smile being blown off his face. Four. Bodhi…oh god, Bodhi, my love, my life…goodbye… Then all was darkness, all was nothing.

THREE

MONTHS LATER …

B ODHI HELD the letter that he had read over and over since that terrible day. The letter his guard had found in the kitchen drawer in the guesthouse as he swept for bugs.

MY

DARLING ,

darling Bodhi,

B Y NOW , you will know what I have done, and I ask for your forgiveness. There was never any other option if we were to get Tim back safely, and I want you to know, that if I’m dead, it was all worth it if Tim is back in your arms. I love you. You have given me everything, and I am so sorry that my presence has been so destructive. I’m sorry for Soleil’s death, I loved her so much, as we all did, and I hate that she died because of me. She didn’t deserve to die like that. Bodhi, all I ask is that you remember how much I loved you, with my whole heart, and I also ask that you go on and love like that again. Don’t grieve too long. Remember, but don’t grieve. If Tim is safe, then I died for a good reason, the best reason. I can’t think of anything else to say but thank you, and I love you so, so much, my precious, darling Bodhi.

ALWAYS , your Sailor

B ODHI SQUEEZED HIS EYES SHUT. She’s gone. She’s gone. He had to keep saying that to himself to believe it. He put the letter down and took up the other one. The one she had written in the hospital. The hospital where they had fought to save her life, to repair her body, to heal the horrific injuries Bart Foy, her biological father, had inflicted on her. She was in a coma for a week, then as she began to emerge from it, the doctor had come to him, hope in his eyes. “She’s turned a corner.” And Bodhi had only known relief like that once before when his son had come back to him. But then, a week later, after some very groggy conversations, and a feeling she was holding back from him, Sailor had disappeared from the hospital, whisked away in the middle of the night by a mysterious benefactor. The hospital had apologized to Bodhi, but as Sailor had no official next of kin, they had been bound from telling him. Her surgeon handed him the second letter she had written him.

MY

LOVE ,

my Bodhi,

F ORGIVE ME. After everything we have been through, I feel this is the only way for me. I bring you bad luck, my love, and now, knowing Bart Foy was my father, I can’t face the future knowing I might have some of his traits. I’m so confused, my love. I have to go away, and I have asked a friend to help me in this. Please, please don’t try and find me. Your life and Tim’s life will be better without me.

Sailor

I T WAS RAMBLING , the handwriting shaky, and Bodhi knew she hadn’t been thinking straight, but it still hurt. And now, after three months, Sailor had managed to keep herself hidden away, away from all of the detectives he’d paid hundreds of thousands to find her. Hidden, alone. He had no idea where she was. Until now. This morning, Grady Mallory had come to him and revealed himself as Sailor’s mysterious benefactor. Bodhi had been angry, but Grady had

calmly explained that he only did what Sailor asked him. Bodhi stared at the man. “So, why are you telling me now?” “Because I’m making a choice, a choice to do what I think is right. What I think Sailor actually wants now that she can think straight. She’s been in counseling, we arranged it for her. Also, Flori found out, and she’s been kicking my ass about it.” Bodhi’s mouth hitched up in a half-smile at that. “Where is Sailor?” Grady hesitated then nodded. “I’ll take you to her.” Bodhi’s head had whirled, joy, anger, nervousness. He shook Tim awake and insisted the boy join them. “Sailor can’t get too mad if Tim’s there as well.” He told Grady in a low voice, and Grady chuckled. “Chicken.” “You know it.”

GRADY DROVE them into the middle of Oregon’s Mount Hood National Forest, to Lost Lake. Bodhi glanced over at Grady when he saw the sign.

“Really?” “Just coincidence, I promise. My family has a cabin here.” Grady chuckled as Bodhi rolled his eyes. He drove up to a cabin situated on the lake, and they got out. Grady knocked at the cabin, but then nodded. “I thought so. She likes to walk to the pier on the lake and sit with her feet in the water.” He showed Bodhi the way, but then held back. “You need some privacy.” Holding Tim’s hand, Bodhi walked around the front of the cabin and toward the lake. In the distance, along a wooden pier, he saw a figure standing at the end, her long dark hair blowing in the breeze. His heart filled with love as he saw her. Tim shook his hand free and began to run, and Bodhi let him. “Sailor! Sailor!” She turned, and Bodhi stopped, the shock so big he couldn’t breathe for a second. Sailor put a hand over the small bump on her belly, but bent down to hug Tim tightly as he reached her. Bodhi put one foot in front of the other, but didn’t know how he would be able to reach them. Pregnant. How was this possible? She had been stabbed, for crissakes…the surgeon hadn’t

mentioned a pregnancy. There was only one answer. It wasn’t his. Bodhi stopped walking, his heart breaking all over again. Tim was leading Sailor by the hand down the pier towards him, and for Bodhi, it was a moment of panic. What do I do? What do I say? Sailor had never looked more beautiful, her caramel skin glowing, her eyes haunted, but soft with love. “Hello, Bodhi.” He stared back at her a million questions going through his mind. She smiled gently and nodded, reading his mind. “It’s yours, Bodhi. Your child. I don’t know how everybody missed it, but I was pregnant when they took me to the hospital. Less than a month, which is why the embryo survived the stabbing. I’m four months now.” Bodhi couldn’t speak, and it took a single, simple sentence from his son to make him come to his senses. Tim looked up at Sailor, his eyes shining with excitement. “So, I’m going to be a big brother?” Sailor laughed, tears flowing down her face. “Yes, sweetie, the best big brother ever.” Finally, Bodhi was able to move, and he took her in

his arms. “Why did you run away?” “I didn’t think I was good enough for you,” Sailor said, her voice breaking. “Bodhi, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ve been living out here regretting running away ever since, but I didn’t know how to make it right. I’m so glad you’re here, so, so happy.” And Bodhi kissed her passionately, not caring that Tim was watching. “I love you, Sailor King, and our baby. We are a family and don’t you ever forget it. We face things together, good or bad.” She nodded, and Bodhi kissed her again, his heart swelling with relief and love and joy. He put his hand on her belly. “After all you went through, is this safe?” She nodded. “I have a good doctor in Portland.” She looked down at Tim. “Look, shall we go inside? I can make us some cocoa. That breeze is a bit cool.” Tim nodded eagerly, and she took his hand, and Bodhi’s and they walked back to her cabin, collecting a grinning, not-at-all-sorry Grady on the way.

ONE

YEAR LATER …

SAILOR GRAPPLED with her very wriggly daughter as she tried to change her diaper. “Solly Creed, if you don’t start behaving, I swear to God…” “Swear to God what?” Bodhi was laughing as she struggled with her daughter. Sailor glared at him. “Could you put the Go-Pro down, rockstar, and help me? This photo op was your idea.” They were in San Francisco for the launch of Bodhi’s first album in a few years and, as they got ready at their hotel, they could already hear the crowd of fans chanting his name. Bodhi took his daughter from Sailor’s arms, and immediately the girl calmed down, babbling with pleasure, grinning at her father. “Daddy’s girl,” Sailor grumbled, but laughed as Bodhi grimaced at the dirty diaper he was being allowed to change. “Hey, I had to carry that little monster for nine months. You can change a diaper.”

L ATER , as they made their way to the launch in the cab, Tim perched on Bodhi’s knee, Solly asleep in her mother’s arms, Bodhi looked over at Sailor. “Hey, beautiful? You know that question I was

going to ask you a while back?” Sailor grinned, knowing exactly what he was going to ask her, put her finger to her lips. “Later,” she said, “When the kids are asleep.” “Why?” Sailor leaned in to whisper in Bodhi’s ear. “Because I have a very, very special way of saying yes, Bodhi Creed, and believe me, you’re not going to want to miss that…”

THE E ND .

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SNEAK PEEKS

Dirty Little Virgin: A Submissives’ Secrets

P

ierce

Her footsteps in the hallway had my ears pricking. Jade would soon enter the room I was imprisoned in. Her gorgeous face would soon be in front of me, and I’d have to look upon it and try my best not to let anger overtake me. “Pierce, how are you doing today, sweetie?” Her long legs came into view as I’d been positioned face down for a while to allow my blood to flow to different areas of my broken body. “Still here. So not well at all,” I answered as she used the controller to turn me right side up.

“But you are alive, and that’s much better than the alternative.” Her face came into view, and my heart pounded. She came to me every day and stayed nearly the entire day with me before going back to our estate to be with our children. I hadn’t allowed Sarah, Johnathon, and Sandy to come to the hospital. The horrified expressions I’d have to endure from them would be too hard to take. Her idea of being alive being better than dead wasn’t exactly the same as mine. In fact, I would’ve welcomed death with open arms had I been given the choice myself. Since I came into the hospital unconscious, that had been left up to Jade, my wife of ten years. And she wanted me kept alive, no matter what they had to do to keep my soul within my broken body. It was becoming increasingly hard not to hate her for what she’d ordered. My silence let her know how I felt. Her eyes ran over my body. A body that was held in chains as I had to be kept in traction until my broken bones healed. The car accident was nothing but a blur to me. Oncoming headlights, the windshield wipers moving back and forth as fast as they could over the windshield of my Mercedes. Steely Dan,

playing on the satellite radio, Rikki Don’t Lose That Number would be forever etched into my brain. Then there was nothing. Not a damn thing. When my eyes opened again, a nurse was standing over me, looking at me as she called out my name over and over. All I could do was blink to let her know I had heard her. “Mr. Pierce Langford, you’re in London Bridge Hospital,” came the first words I’d heard in what seemed like a very long time. “You’ve been in an automobile accident,” she had an English accent, much like my wife’s. It was then that it hit me and I wondered where Jade was. But I couldn’t talk. Something was in my mouth, and my eyes grew big as I wanted desperately to ask for my wife. The beeping that was constant became erratic, and the nurse put her hand on my cheek. “Calm down. We’ll remove the breathing tube in just a moment. And then we’ll let your wife come in to see you. She’s been here the entire time. You can thank her for your life. She made sure the surgeons did everything they could to keep you alive. It wasn’t an easy task; your heart stopped six times.” Six times I’d been dead, and each time they resuscitated me thanks to my wife’s demands. Six times I had the chance to leave my broken body

and six times Jade refused to let that happen. “The doctor told me they’d be bringing in an x-ray machine today to see how the breaks are healing.” Jade picked up a potted plant someone had sent to me and took it to the sink to water it. “Even if they are healing that doesn’t mean I’ll ever walk again.” I closed my eyes as no sadness filled my voice, but anger certainly did. “Walking isn’t everything, sweetheart.” Jade took the plant back to the window sill and placed it in the sun’s light. She glanced around the room. “I wonder if they’d let me add a few touches to this room to make it more like home for you.” “What, paint the walls that shade of brown that’s in our bedroom?” I rolled my eyes. “There’s no reason to try to spruce this room up. It won’t help a damn thing, Jade. Listen to yourself!” I closed my mouth, my lips forming a thin line. I had to control the anger inside. I had to do it for her. The woman didn’t mean for her decisions to hurt me. I knew that. I knew she loved me, wanted me to be here for her and our children. The only thing was that I’d never again be the man I was. No matter what they did to me, I would never be that man.

Jade came to me, standing over me. I hated to be in the positions they had me in. I hated being strung up, helpless to do a damn thing for myself. I couldn’t even take a shit by myself for the love of God. “Pierce,” her voice but a whisper, her eyes glistening. “Please try to think rationally. I know you hate this. I hate it too. But this is just a space of time where things aren’t great. You’ll get out of these chains, and you’ll be back to yourself before you know it.” “I’ll never be back to myself, Jade. You and I both know that. Tell someone else your lies.” I closed my eyes again, not wanting to see her face. “They aren’t lies.” Her hand moved over my cheek then her lips followed. My heart couldn’t take it. The monitor beeped like crazy, and she pulled her lips away. “Jade, I’m sorry.” “I know you are.” She swept her hand through my hair. “I think the first thing we’ll get done as soon as they get you out of this contraption is get this hair washed and cut.” Snapping a rubber band on her wrist, she pulled my unwashed hair into a ponytail and used the rubber band to secure it. “I hate when the nurses take this out and leave you

facing down. Your hair is getting so long it hangs in your face.” “I ask them to take it out. After a while it makes my head hurt. While I’m glad to feel something, it gets annoying.” I hadn’t felt my limbs in a month. The way they kept my body made it that way. Well, that and some pretty stout pain meds. But they’d been pulling back on the meds for a while, and still, I felt nothing from the neck down. Glad not to have a mirror to see the state I was in, I relied on Jade to tell me how I looked. She’d explained that a metal bracket ran along my spine, another piece of metal ran around my neck to keep it in place. Another metal bracket ran along the front of my body too, and both pieces connected to the metal collar and another round metal piece that ran around my hips. My head was held by what they called a halo; they had screwed into my skull. Casts were on all of my limbs as well and metal chains held them up for me. The surgeon told me that I hadn’t broken every bone in my body, but I sure had gotten close. It was a miracle that I’d survived being hit by that truck that was carrying mattresses to some store in London. It was no miracle in my opinion. It was Jade’s doing. It was Jade who had me there, trapped in the

hospital. It was Jade who kept telling the doctors to bring me back each time I’d died. It was all Jade’s doing, every last bit of it. I didn’t believe I could ever forgive her.

Jade I’d woken up with a start as my cell went off. It was nearly midnight. Looking at the other side of my bed, I found my husband had still not made it home, which was odd. He’d been out Christmas shopping for me. After we put our children to bed, he kissed me on the cheek, told me to go to bed myself, and he was going out to buy me some gifts. I’d done as he said and fell asleep with ease. But I never thought he’d be out so late. Picking up my cell, I saw a number I didn’t recognize but answered it anyway, “Hello?” “Mrs. Langford?” a man asked. “Yes, this is she. And you are?” I nibbled my pinky fingernail, getting an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “This is Doctor Williams at London Bridge

Hospital.” My heart stopped. Why would a doctor from a hospital be calling me in the middle of the night? I could only pray I was having a nightmare and none of this was actually happening. “Yes?” my voice but a whisper. I knew without him telling me a thing. My husband had been hurt or worse. “Your husband, Pierce Langford is here with us. We really need you here, Mrs. Langford. Decisions have to be made. How fast can you get here?” his question echoed in my head. I was in shock, unable to move or answer the man. But then I pictured my rock of a husband and how he needed me and shook my head as I jumped out of bed. “Fifteen minutes.” “Good. Come to the Emergency Department and tell them who you are and they’ll get you to us.” He hung up, and I sprang into action. Calling my mother as I pulled off my nightclothes and pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, I’d never been more thankful for my parents living in the guesthouse just behind our home. “Hello?” came her weary voice. “Mom, I need you to come into the main house to

be with the children. Something’s happened to Pierce. The hospital just called me, and I have to take off now.” “Oh, God!” she cried out. “What’s happened to him?” “Mom, I don’t know. I don’t have time. Please just hurry up and get here.” I ended the call as I ran to the bathroom to splash water on my face and pull my hair into a ponytail. My reflection told me I wasn’t taking things well. The color in my face had drained away, leaving only pale skin behind. There were dark circles underneath my eyes, and when I looked down, I noticed my hands were shaking. “I need to call our driver.” After calling him and getting him going, I grabbed my purse, and a jacket then ran out of our bedroom, only to come right back in, cursing the whole time as I’d forgotten to put on any shoes. Stuffing my feet into a pair of sneakers, my eyes roamed over the bedroom one more time, scanning for anything else I’d missed. Seeing nothing, I left our bedroom, extremely conscious of the fact that I might never see my husband in our bed again. Trying not to cry proved to be hard, but somehow I

managed to fight back the tears. Staying strong for Pierce had to be my first priority. Passing my mother in the hallway, one of her hands grabbed my arm, stopping me. “Call me as soon as you know what’s happened, Jade. Your father and I are worried sick.” “I will, Mum, thank you. Keep the kids calm, please. Love you.” I ran to the front door and was happy to see the driver had the car waiting. He stood at the back door, holding it open for me. I couldn’t say a word as I slipped inside. Our driver sped off toward the hospital while I sat perfectly still. My eyes traveled over the posh interior of the car my husband had purchased only a few months earlier. A car he might never get to ride in again. Shaking my head, I drove the negative thoughts away once more. They kept creeping up on me somehow. The drive took forever, not really; it only took fifteen minutes. Those fifteen minutes felt like an hour. Time wasn’t moving right. Nothing felt real. It was as if I was an actor in some drama. A drama I wanted to end happily. Most dramas don’t end that way. A Shakespearean tragedy wasn’t a thing I wanted

to be a part of. But it seemed I’d been thrust into the middle of one anyway. What had started out as a beautiful relationship, one that had brought three souls into the world, might end on a sad note and much too soon at that. How could I make sure our ending didn’t come too soon?

P IERCE “Can you feel this, Mr. Langford?” the doctor asked me as he pushed a needled into the tip of my finger. My eyes were trained on the needle as it pierced my flesh. “No. Nothing,” my tone as grim as my heart. Always the optimist, my wife piped in, “Nothing to worry about, Pierce. This is very common with injuries like the ones you’ve sustained. You could still regain feeling and movement, no need to get down about this little test.” Her cheery tone annoyed me to no end, and I found myself clenching my jaw for the umpteenth time that day. Six weeks had passed since my accident. The casts

on my arms had been removed, but I couldn’t make them move on my own. Physical therapists came in twice a day to move them for me. And Jade had been shown how to move them too; she did so in the afternoon. I felt like a puppet. Once I’d been a powerful man. A dominant man who took the role of the rock in my family. And now, well, now I was nothing. As useless as a puppet. Jade had demanded that I let our children come to the hospital for a visit. No longer in traction, I didn’t look quite as decrepit as I did swinging in the chains. Now I was lying in a hospital bed. Soon the casts on my legs would come off, and then I’d be able to move about using a wheelchair — a thing my doctors and wife thought I should be overjoyed about — I wasn’t happy about it at all though. Jade had washed and cut my hair, sprucing me up, trimming my beard a bit, making me as presentable as she possibly could for a visit with our kids and her parents. Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to the visit. The doctor patted me on the shoulder, a thing I

didn’t feel. “Okay, Mr. Langford, I’ll be back to check in on you on the morrow.” He gave Jade a little wave. “See you tomorrow, Mrs. Langford.” I could see the sorrow in his light blue eyes as he made eye contact with my wife. He felt sorry for her, having to put up with me. Jade bid him goodbye then turned her attention to me. “I’ll call Mum and have them come up here with the children now.” All I could do was sigh, heavily. “Whatever.” “Pierce, don’t be like that,” she chided me. “They all miss you so very much. They’ve begged to get to come see you. You have no idea how hard this has been on them.” “You think this is hard on them, Jade?” I practically yelled at her before clenching my jaw again to shut myself up. She paused, glaring at me, then put her cell down on the table. “Pierce Langford, I’ve had just about as much as I can take out of you. This self-pity is a thing you need to get the fuck over,” her tone firm and strict. “I can’t just get the fuck over this, Jade. Fuck!” I shouted. “I am nothing now. You made me this way!”

The way she recoiled from me, astonished me. She acted as if she’d just been struck by something. A grimace took her stoic expression over as she spat, “I did not make you this way!” Emotion welled up inside of me and tears spilled from my eyes. What was I saying? “I love you. I don’t know why I’m so pissed at you. But I am mad at you, Jade. I do blame you for this. Why didn’t you just let me die? Death would be better than this. Why did you demand I be brought back to life six goddamned times, Jade!” Sobbing, I gasped for air and hated the fact that I couldn’t even wipe the tears away. But I didn’t want her to touch me. I wanted to be left alone. Why couldn’t she see that all I wanted was to be left alone? The tears made everything blurry, but I could see her small frame as she stumbled back and fell onto a chair. “Pierce, my God. I really had no idea. I’ll make sure you get some mental help, sweetheart.” Suddenly the sobbing stopped. My tears dried up, miraculously. “No,” came my soft word. “No?” she asked then got up and came to me, wiping away the tears. “I don’t want to talk to a therapist. I just want you

to leave me alone, Jade. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I asked as I searched her eyes. Eyes that had looked at me with love filling them for a decade. Now all I saw was sympathy. I hated being a pathetic human being who could only arouse sympathy in my wife’s eyes. Passion had once filled them, desire, even panic — which was better than fucking sympathy — I had to wonder if I’d ever see those things again in her beautiful eyes. After clearing all the tears, she held a tissue to my nose. “Blow.” I blew my nose, feeling helpless. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t understand why this had happened to me. What had I done so terribly wrong to deserve this? “Jade, during all the BDSM stuff we did, did I ever hurt you and you not tell me?” I asked her as a train of thought sparked up in my head. Blinking, she tilted her head to one side. “Pierce, do you think you had an accident that cost you so much because you somehow deserve it?” “Maybe.” All I could do was watch her as unshed tears

shimmered in her eyes. Then she leaned over me and pressed her lips to mine, kissing me softly. Her lips grazed mine as she said, “You never hurt me. You only took me higher than I imagined I could go, my wonderful Master.” Could I still be the Master she deserved?

Jade When I got into the Emergency room, I was whisked away to the other side of the large hospital. A nurse led the way at a fast pace, telling me everything that had happened to my husband, “Mr. Langford was heading east on King’s Road when a delivery truck suddenly moved into his lane, striking his vehicle head-on. Due to the heavy weight of the truck, which was filled with mattress sets, the front of your husband’s Mercedes was crushed much like an aluminum can.” “My, God!” I gasped and clenched my throat in dismay. “Your husband’s car had to be cut open with a mechanism they call, the jaws of life. His body was intact, a thing most of the rescuers were afraid wouldn’t be.” “Thank goodness,” I mumbled. At least he hadn’t

lost any limbs. The nurse nodded in agreement. “That being said. The surgeons are not certain at this point that they will be able to save all of his extremities. He’s broken most of the bones in his body, Mrs. Langston. He’s looking at a long and frankly painful recovery.” Her eyes darted to me then back in front. “If he can feel anything, that is. There is a very large possibility that he could either be paralyzed from the waist down or even the neck down.” Knots formed in my stomach and my throat as my hands clasped together and I wrung them in a nervous state. “But he’s alive. That’s what matters the most. I still have him.” The nurse stopped at a set of double doors that had the word, surgery over them. “For now, he is alive. But you need to know that he isn’t breathing on his own. He’s on a ventilator. But his heart is beating on its own. If it wasn’t, I’m afraid he would’ve been called dead on arrival. His brain isn’t showing much function at all, either.” My knees went weak. “He’s that bad off?” She nodded then pushed a button to open the doors and in we went. There I was met by two men in light blue scrubs. Blood was splattered on the fronts

of their clothes. Was it my husband’s? My stomach churned with the thought. They pulled their masks down, and one of the men spoke to me, “Mrs. Langford, I presume?” I nodded. “How is he? When can I see him?” The other man took over. “He’s in a grave condition. And you can’t see him until he’s out of the O.R.” All I had wanted was to see him. I needed to see him. I needed to hold his hand and tell him everything would be alright. I’d take care of him forever if I had to. “Please, gentlemen, I really need to see my husband.” The nurse patted me on the back. “His condition would only serve to break you, Mrs. Langston. Let them do what they can for him first.” Suddenly grief overtook me, and I swooned. The men grabbed me and took me to sit down in a nearby waiting area. One of them went to get me a cup of water while the other looked me over. “I know this is shocking. We need you to keep a level head. Your husband is in surgery right now. If his heart stops, it will be up to you to make the call if we’re to try to resuscitate him or not.” Suddenly I knew I had to push this sorrow and

shock to the side. I had to be the rock now. Pierce needed me to stay strong and keep him alive. And just as I took a drink of the water I was handed, another man came flying out of a set of double door. Doors I now knew my husband was behind. I could hear the loud, long beep that kept on going. “Is that her?” the man called out to the three who were with me. They all nodded, and I stood up. The sound I could still hear, even though the doors had closed, told me what was wrong. “Save him,” I ordered. With a nod, the man who’d run out of the operating room turned and ran right back inside, shouting, “Bring him back!” And that would happen five more times in a matter of six hours. Each time the chance of him not coming back was far greater than the previous one. I sat and waited, chewing every fingernail I had to the quick. My body ached from the tense way I’d kept it. My jaw hurt from clenching it so hard and for so long. Why was it taking so damn long? Why couldn’t they stabilize him?

Why did this have to happen to him? As the staff had work to get back to, I was left alone in the small waiting room with one solid glass wall that allowed me to see the comings and goings of the people who went in and out of the operating room Pierce was in. Alone, I waited and waited, giving my consent to them when needed to bring my husband back from the other side. Deep inside my heart, I knew he might hate me if he had to live the remainder of his life as a person with quadriplegia. Losing the ability to walk would prove difficult, but I had confidence that he’d be able to handle that. Losing the ability to move anything lower than his neck might prove to be too much for the dominant male that had been my husband, merely hours before. Eventually, as I gave the sixth order to bring him back to me, I became comfortable with what I’d done. He could hate me all he wanted; I’d only ever love him back. Pierce was my rock, my world, my life. I’d accept his hate in return for having him here with us. I’d do that for our children. They didn’t deserve to lose their father so young. When a woman came out, wearing hot pink scrubs, I was surprised and relieved with the smile she

wore after she took off her mask. “He’s out of the woods, Mrs. Langford. You can see him soon!”

P IERCE “Daddy! Daddy!” my children all called out at once as they came streaming into my hospital room. “Easy now kids, Daddy’s not able to move, and you must be very careful with him,” Jade cautioned as she got between them and me, guarding me from my own children. Our nine-year-old, Sarah, looked at me with wide eyes as she peered around her mother. “Daddy, we’ve missed you.” “I’ve missed you all too, Sarah.” I looked at them all as Jade moved out of the way. Johnathon was seven. “How’s school, my boy?” “I’m doing pretty good, Dad.” He smiled at me. “And Mary Simmons kissed me on the cheek last Tuesday.” A chuckle rose up in me as I found the red in his cheeks to be adorable. “Did she, now?” He nodded, then our youngest, four-year-old Quinn, came toward me, placing her hand on my leg. The cast was hard beneath her palm, and she gave me a

questioning look. The blanket covered my body, so she had no idea why her Daddy was so hard. “What’s this?” Jade answered. “I told you that Daddy’s legs are still in casts, Quinn.” “Can I see?” Quinn asked as she pulled the blanket up. Jade reached out to stop her, but I said, “Go ahead.” My baby girl pulled the blanket up, and all three of my children looked at the white cast that held my leg in place. Johnathon knocked on it with his little fist. “Does that hurt, Dad?” “No.” My eyes darted to Jade. “You haven’t told them?” Sarah looked at me. “Told us what, Daddy?” “I can’t feel anything,” I let her know. Sarah looked at me harder then came to me, kissing my cheek. “Can you feel that?” “Yes, I can feel my head, but nothing else,” I told her, and my heart ached, as even though I couldn’t move my arms, they wanted to hold my oldest daughter in them so desperately I could actually feel the pain of not getting to, coursing through my

veins. A smile curled my oldest daughter’s lips. “Well, at least you can feel something.” She hugged me then, and it nearly made me cry. “Oh, Daddy, how I’ve missed you!” Her dark silky hair moved over my face, the lilac scent filling my senses. “Oh, baby, Daddy has missed you too.” Tears fell again; I’d lost control. And as I cried, the rest of my family came to hug me; their combined smells filled me with the memory of home. A place I missed so much it seemed impossible. We all cried then. We all shared the pain and the happiness of being together. And Jade’s softly spoken words were the glue that bound us together, “As a family, we will all get through this tough time, and we will all come out of this a bit stronger than we were before.” Lips pressed against my cheeks as they all left kisses on them. I’d never felt so loved in my entire life than I felt at that moment. I could get past this. With their love and devotion, I’d survive this tragedy and find my way through the darkness. I had to. My family deserved that.

“Okay. Cry-fest is over,” I let them know. As they all pulled back, Jade grabbed tissues and handed them to the kids then took one and wiped my tears away. “I love you, Pierce.” “I love you, Jade,” I said as she kissed my cheek once more. “It’s all going to be okay. From here on out, I will stop moaning and complaining about everything. I promise you that.” Her smile was brilliant as she stood over me. “I should’ve brought the kids much earlier.” “Nah, you brought them at just the right time.” I winked at her. “Sorry about all that earlier. I really am.” She waved me off. “Think nothing of it.” She put her hand on top of mine, and I looked at our hands touching and wished that I could feel that. “Mum and Dad would love to come in and see you if that’s okay.” “I think I’d like that,” I said then looked at the kids. “How about you guys climb up on the bed with me? I like the way I feel when you’re all close to me.” Their energy comforted me in a way I’d never felt before. And after Jade’s parents came in and hugged me too, I knew I’d found the best medicine there ever

could be. Love. Family. Hope. I’d all but lost hope of things ever getting better. I’d resigned myself to the fact that I would never walk again. That my limbs would never function again. That I’d never make love to my wife again. Now, with the love and support of my family, I had hopes of doing all those things again. Especially making love to my wife, who was beautiful outside as well as inside, where it really counts.

Jade As the days passed, with me bringing the children to sit with Pierce every single day for at least a few hours, he got better and better. It seemed the exchange of energy that he had told me about when I first spoke with him over ten years ago was a thing that could help many situations. With his family around him so much, my husband was making huge strides. Doing things that stupefied his doctors. The first sign that things were beginning to heal in him came when Johnathon was working his father’s

right arm. He had Pierce’s arm held out straight and pulled it up over his head. Pierce looked at me. “Watch this, baby.” He looked at our son. “Let it go, Johnathon.” “What if it falls?” our son asked. Slowly shaking his head, Pierce said. “It won’t. I can feel it, son.” The girls and I gasped and made a ring around the bed to watch what was about to happen. When Johnathon let his arm go, Pierce held it in place before slowly moving it to rest at his side. The laugh he made sent chills through me. He’d done it! We all whooped and hollered and laughed as he picked his arm up and put it down a few more times. Then he looked at his left arm. It took some doing, but he managed to lift it a few times too. “I can feel them both!” He smiled at me then gave me a wink. “Come here, baby.” I moved toward him, eager to feel his arms around me. Leaning down to him, I cried as I felt him enclose me in his arms for the first time in a couple of months. He whispered in my ear. “I just felt my cock twitch, baby.”

A sob came out of me as I had made peace with the idea that I might not ever get to feel my husband in a sexual way again. I clung to him as I cried and he held me tight. After giving all of the kids hugs too, he asked me to go find his doctor. He wanted an assessment of his body done. I took our children home while the doctors checked Pierce out. And when I came back, I found him sitting in a wheelchair, beaming with pride. “Like my new ride, baby?” To see him happy with being in the wheelchair instead of the bed was a relief. “It’s a pretty sweet ride. Too bad there’s not room for two on that bad ass, bitch.” I laughed. He patted his lap. “Climb on, little mama.” His leg casts had been off for a couple of weeks but I still worried about hurting him. “You’re silly.” “No, I’m serious,” he told me with a sexy grin. A grin I’d missed so much. “Climb on.” “Pierce?” I put my hands on my hips. “Now,” he said as he wiggled his finger at me. So I eased onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, watching his face for any signs of pain

and finding none as his eyes closed. “Nothing hurts?” “Oh, baby,” he moaned. “I can feel you.” His eyes opened slowly as his hands moved up and down my arms. “I can really feel you, Jade.” “Are you telling me that you can feel your legs now too?” I asked in disbelief. He nodded. “I can. And I feel your fine ass pressing against my cock. A cock my doctor told me I could use if I felt inclined to.” “Pierce! Really?” I gasped. He nodded. “Why don’t you go lock that door and get rid of those clothes you have on? I’ll get back in bed, and you can take a ride on top of me if you’d like.” “Oh, I would like that very much!” I hopped off his lap and ran to the door, locking it, then hitting the light switch to dim the room, setting a romantic mood. When I turned around, I found he’d already wheeled himself back to the bed and was actually pulling himself up, standing on his legs for a moment before moving to lie back on the bed. The sight nearly had me crying, but I managed to

exchange that emotion for one a bit more sensual, lust. Because as Pierce laid back on that bed, I found his hospital gown had become a tent. “Wow!” I hissed. “I can’t believe it!” His smile told me more than any words could. My man was damn proud of himself. “Come on, baby.” Wasting no time, I pulled my dress off over my head and got rid of my bra and panties in record time. Then I sprinted across the room to climb onto my husband’s fat cock. Sliding down the length of his surprisingly rock hard dick, our combined moans filled the small room. “God!” I hissed as I looked into his eyes. “I’ve got my husband back.” “Not entirely, but we’re getting there, baby,” he said with a sexy smile. Oh, that smile. I’d missed it so. His hands gripped my waist, and I could feel his strength increasing by leaps and bounds as he lifted me to stroke him at the speed he wanted. I let him take charge, be at least some of the man he’d been before the accident. “I think we may have stumbled on a new and better way to do your rehabilitation therapy, Pierce.”

With a chuckle, he moved me faster. “I think so too. Why don’t you lean on over here, baby? I think I need to work on my lips a bit. Maybe sucking your tits will help.” Glad to oblige my man, I did as he’d said to and groaned with the incredible sensation of having his mouth on me again. His tongue rolled around my nipple before he bit it, sending me into a deeper moan, and taking me to new heights. Up and down I went until my body rocked with an orgasm so hard that I doubted I’d ever had an experience quite like that one. “Pierce!” He moved me faster then moaned as heat filled me, his cum coating my insides and leaving us both spent. Panting, I rested my head on his chest as we caught our breath. My husband was on his way back to me. I’d never dared to even hope for this much, but it seemed I was going to be pleasantly surprised by things from there on out.

P IERCE Day by day, my body got stronger and stronger. The day I got to leave the hospital was a day I’d never forget.

The nurse wheeled me out to the waiting car at the entrance of the hospital. The smell of damp air was the first thing to hit my senses. “Ah, nothing beats the smell of London fog,” I said to the nurse who pushed my chair. She laughed. “Oh, Mr. Langford, you will be missed.”sd “While that’s nice to hear,” I said with a smile. “I hope I never see the inside of this hospital again and only meet you all on the outside of these walls.” She laughed. “I bet you do!” Jade got out of the back seat as the driver opened the door. She came to me, taking me by the hands to help me up. Not that I really needed it. But I let her think she was helping me. “Thank you, baby.” I’d been walking for a week. There was still progress that had to be made, but I was well on my way to making a full recovery. Of course, I gave most of that credit to Jade with her own brand of physical therapy. Now that kind of therapy seemed to help the most! As we got into the back of our town car, I took in the smell of the leather. “I missed this too.” Jade laughed as she clicked my seat-belt before

putting hers on. “I can’t wait to get you home, sweetie.” “In our bed, I’ll get to take your sweet ass tonight. I cannot wait.” Taking her face between my palms, I kissed my wife and found my cock twitching. “What you do to me is unnatural.” She smiled at me then pecked my lips once. “Pierce, you still have to take it easy you know.” “You don’t have a thing to worry about.” I held out my hand. “Did you bring my cell the way I told you to?” She shook her head and I clenched my jaw. “I meant it when I said you have to take it easy. I’m not about to let you get all wrapped up in work. We have a shit-ton of money, Pierce. Enough to last us three lifetimes. You will relax at home with us, and you will put work out of your mind until you have fully recovered.” “I think you’re forgetting who the boss is around our home, baby.” Placing my hand on her upper thigh, I gave it a slight squeeze. “I can still put you over my lap and spank that defiant ass if I have to.” “Well, you may just have to do that.” She winked at me, coyly. “But it won’t get your cell back. I’ll take my licks to make sure you’re completely fine

before you get back to work.” Not sure how to take my wife, I sat back, wondering just what I should do about this turn in our marriage. I’d always been the master of my domain. With this setback, things seemed to have swerved, letting my wife, my sub, take the lead. I wasn’t sure how this was going to work for me. Jade and I started out being a Dom and his sub. She and I had a solid foundation, rooted in the BDSM world. In all matters, I had final say. Including this one. But she seemed to have forgotten that. Perhaps holding my life in her hands had brought out the dominant in her. Given her strength that had hidden deep inside her. With the power of giving life or letting death take me from her, she must’ve stumbled into the realm of domination. I couldn’t have that. My power had to be regained somehow. When we pulled into the drive, I found my wife slipping out first, then reaching back in to take my hand and help me out. “I’ve got this, baby.” I let her know. “Step back.” She huffed. “I’d feel better if you’d take my hand. I don’t want you to fall, Pierce. Please.” Her

expression said she wasn’t about to take any shit from me. She was set on making sure I never got hurt again. Some would love that. I did not. “Step back,” my tone stern. With a roll of her eyes, she did as I said, but stayed very close. Close enough to catch me if I stumbled. It took me longer than usual to get out of the car. My driver never blinked an eye, but he stood very close too. Obviously taking his cue from my wife, staying close enough to grab me if my feet faltered. Admittedly, my gait wasn’t what it had been. Slow and steady is how I moved. But I moved, and I did it on my own, no crutches, no wheelchairs, no walkers, just me and my own two feet. To say I was proud of my progress — a thing that astounded my doctors — would be an understatement. With my driver walking very close behind me and Jade only inches in front of me, aggravation began to gnaw at me. And when Jade’s hand reached out to open the door I’d had enough. “No. I’ll do it, Jade.” “But Pierce…” “Hush now. Step back.” I gave her a stern look, and she did so with a long and drawn out sigh, but she stepped to one side and ducked her head a bit.

“Good girl.” Opening the door, I readied myself for the charge of the children. Screams filled the air as little feet made their way through the main living area to greet me in the foyer. “Daddy!” Oh, how the sound of those three little voices stirred my heart and soul. “I’m home,” I called out. Barely had my feet taken me inside than my wife stepped in front of me, getting between the running children and myself. “Stop! You can’t run up on him like this,” she scolded them. “Jade, stop,” I commanded her. “I’m not some breakable thing you have to protect all the time.” The driver closed the door and left us, as a chill filled the air and Jade turned to look at me. “But you are fragile, sweetheart. Let me protect you.” With a huff, I moved around her. “Come, children. Give me those hugs I crave.” All three of them moved in and put their arms around me as I hugged them back. Jade only sighed. She stood behind me, quiet but obviously aggravated at me for wanting to be me. The kids always met me at the door, running into my arms where I’d pick all three of them up at the same time and carry them into the next room.

“Shall we adjourn to the living room, kids?” I asked them and found three nodding heads. Quinn took my hand as we headed into the large living area that I loved spending time with my family in. A nice fire was crackling in the stone fireplace; light music wafted through the air. My in-laws were seated in two of the overstuffed blue velvet covered chairs. My mother-in-law rose, coming to hug me. “Oh, how nice it is to see your handsome face in this home again, Pierce.” “Thank you, Mother.” I kissed her cheek. “It’s wonderful to be home.” My father-in-law stood. “Glad you’re home, son. Gramma and I will get out of your hair and let you guys get back to the family you’ve always been. If you need us, we’ll be in the guesthouse.” With waves goodbye, my wife’s parents left us. With the kids sitting next to me, and my wife taking a seat on the chair her mother had vacated, things were settling inside of me. “Did you tell the cook to make the dinner I asked for, Jade?” I asked her as she picked up a magazine off the coffee table in front of her. “Smoked duck is much too rich for you. You’ve had a diet of bland hospital food, Pierce. What

were you thinking?” She peered over the top of the pages she held in her small hands. “I told her to make a hearty stew full of fresh vegetables and lean lamb.” Oh, I could tell my little sub needed to be reined in. But was I up for it?

Click here to continue reading my romance novel “Dirty Little Virgin”. Secrets & Desires: (A Christmas Romance) Nox Livia Chatelaine crashed into my life on Halloween night and brought light back into my dark life. Sick of living in the past, I fell for this beautiful, sexy, gorgeous woman, and she fell for me. Now all I can think of is being inside her, loving her, tasting her, fucking her… The way she loves me with her sensational body, with her beautiful mind… No one can tear us apart, not now, not ever. She is mine…

Livia Rule number one of my job–do not fall for the client. Do not. And yet, of course, I did. Nox Renaud might be the richest man in New Orleans But he’s also the most gorgeous, sweetest, sexiest man I’ve ever met and he wants me. Every time he touches me it feels like heaven, when he’s inside me It’s like ecstasy. Our love is so pure, so real, so animal… Nothing will keep us apart, not even the dark forces that are gathering around us. Nothing will stop me from loving this man forever…

Part One

CHAP TER One Amber Duplas squinted at her oldest and dearest friend as he handed her a plate of perfectly cooked eggs. “Nox Renaud, you are a pain in my ass.”

Nox, his green eyes amused, grinned at her. “Well then, my work here is done. But why?” Amber sighed and bunched her auburn hair up into a ponytail. “You’re one of the wealthiest land owners in New Orleans, an incredibly successful businessman, and—according to Forbes—one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. And yet you stand in your own palatial kitchen…” she gestured around the vast room, “cooking me eggs for brunch yourself. Haven’t you heard of chefs?” Nox shook his head. He was used to this line of questioning from Amber. “You know I don’t like a lot of people around me, Ambs.” Amber forked some egg into her mouth, almost swooning at the taste. “Which is why you’re a pain. I’m worried that you’ll become a hermit.” “I think hermithood arrived a while ago,” Nox said, mildly. “Look, I know you mean well, but I’m nearly forty, and I’m set in my ways. I like being alone.” He dumped a panful of eggs onto his own plate and sat down. “And anyway, in a few days, the best and brightest will be here to drink my champagne and bother me all night. God, why do I do this every year?” He groaned and Amber laughed. “Such a Grinch.” She ruffled his dark curls and he

grinned, though he was sighing on the inside. The Renaud family had given a Halloween charity benefit since way before Nox’s birth—it had been a special project of his beloved mother’s. Before the tragedy, of course. Despite his solitary nature, Nox could not bear to dishonor his mother’s legacy. His eyes flicked over to the framed picture of her and Teague, his adored elder brother, on the kitchen counter. Both of them dark and beautiful, laughing, hugging. Both of them gone so senselessly. The tragedy of the Renaud family was known throughout Louisiana and beyond. Tynan Renaud, a respected business man, adoring husband to the Italian-born Gabriella, and heroic father to his sons Teague and Nox, had suffered a psychotic break and gunned down his wife and eldest son one night before turning the gun on himself. Nox, away at college at the time, had been destroyed. After dropping out of school and coming home to the huge plantation mansion out on the Bayou, he had struggled for years to understand what his father had done. Amber and his other friends had tried to persuade him to sell the place where his mother and brother had been murdered, but Nox refused. He took over his brother’s business with his friend Sandor, and together they had made a success of it. The

company, RenCar, quickly became an outlet to forget his pain, with Nox pouring twenty hours a day into the work. Luxury food importing had never been his dream—was it anyone’s? —but he had found something he was good at and that was enough for him. His boyhood dreams of becoming a musician were pushed aside for something that would utterly distract him. The studio his mother had set aside for both of them to work in had stood empty for almost twenty years now…as had Nox’s heart. He realized he wasn’t listening to Amber now and apologized. She rolled her blue eyes. “Nox, I’m used to you spacing out on me, but listen, this is your party. I’m just saying, why don’t you try to be more gregarious for a change? These people pay a lot of money to come here.” “Mostly to see the murder house,” he mumbled and Amber made an annoyed click with her tongue. “Maybe so, but the money we raise goes to a good cause, doesn’t it? Something good to come out of— Damn it, Nox, you’re not the only one who lost someone.” To his horror, he saw tears in her eyes. He reached over and took her hand. “Ambs, I’m sorry, I know. I miss Ariel too, every day.” He sighed. So much pain, so much death. Amber was right; he needed to get out of this self-

pitying funk. “All I ask is for you to do your part on the night. Mingle, talk to your guests.” Amber’s tone was calmer now and she smiled at him, her face soft, her eyes on his, holding them for a beat too long. Nox nodded, looking away finally. “I promise.” After Amber had gone, he wandered into his living room and flicked on the television. Local news station WDSU was doing a feature on Halloween New Orleans, the magical, manic mayhem of the festival the city threw every October. Nox sighed and waited for the inevitable mention of his party. “Wait for it,” he muttered to himself. “Will it be the Renaud Family Curse or the Mansion with the Dark Secrets, first?” The anchor looked serious. “Of course, before the festivities kick off on Halloween night, the New Orleans elite will gather at the Renaud mansion out on the Bayou. Regular viewers will know that the annual Creepy Cocktails Gala Benefit is held every year at the place some locals call ‘the mansion with a dark history.’ More on that after these messages.” Nox clicked off the television with an annoyed flick of his hand. Same story every year, and now his guests who watched the news would be all the more

curious about the only remaining Renaud. Damn it. His cellphone rang and he answered it gratefully. “Sandor, man, you have impeccable timing.” His friend laughed. “Any time. Listen, we may have a deal on the Laurent restaurant chain.” Nox sat up. “Really?” The Laurent business was worth twice what they offered, but had been on the market for two years with no interest. Nox knew if they got it at a cheap price and refurbished it, it could make them a fortune. He and Sandor had decided to branch out into buying restaurants to serve their luxury foods as a new income stream— not that either of them needed it, but they both were bored with their business. They wanted to get their hands dirty and do something, something physical rather than just importing food for, well, people like them. “Yep. Gustav Laurent is getting a divorce and he wants to get rid of the property quickly.” Nox was astonished. “Gus is divorcing Kathryn?” “Seems so. Seems like she was sleeping around on him.” Nox made a half-amused, half-scornful noise. “Like Gustav hasn’t been fucking around on her for years.”

“You know Gus.” “Sadly, yes. Listen, I can be there in a half hour.” “Good,” Sandor replied. “And, afterward, I’ll spot you lunch. Deal?” Nox smiled down the phone. “Deal. See you then.”

L IVIA C HATELAINE BALANCED three plates expertly along her left arm and carried them to the table. The two women and the child seated at the table smiled gratefully at her as she laid their food in front of them and returned their grins. “Enjoy, folks. Let me know if you need anything else.” She skirted back to another table that was waiting for their check and settled up with them quickly and with her innate friendliness. She had been working at La Chat Noir café in the French Quarter for three months now, ever since she had packed her whole life into her battered old Gremlin and driven across the country from San Diego. Moriko, her best friend from college, had been in New Orleans for a year and had gotten her the job at the café—it didn’t hurt that the owner, a handsome, dark-haired Frenchman called Marcel, had a huge crush on Moriko and would have hired anyone she recommended. Thankfully, though,

Livia and Marcel had become good friends and Livia showed up early, stayed late, and worked her ass off for him. In return, he gave her the shifts that fit best with her studies and paid her enough that she could afford the tiny apartment she shared with Moriko. Livia had decided as she left San Diego that she wouldn’t return to her hometown again. It held no interest for her now, and there wasn’t any family left there that she cared about. An only child, her mother had died when she was young and Livia had brought herself up. She’d worked hard at school and at various jobs to put food on the table, while her father drank himself into a stupor every night and screamed at her if she disturbed him. Livia had stopped caring years ago about the man. As far as she was concerned, he was merely the sperm donor. What she remembered of her mother were warm, happy memories. Cancer was a fucker and it stole her happiness away when she was five. Livia’s last memory of her mother was of the beautiful woman kissing her goodbye one day before school, and that was the last time she had seen her. Her father hadn’t let her see her after she died. Livia had put herself through college on a scholarship and by working three jobs, and it had become second nature to always fight and scrape for everything. It gave her energy, reason, and

when she graduated top of her class, it had all been worth it. Her tutors had been loath to let her go and had championed her to apply for post-graduate research scholarships but it had taken Livia four years to finally secure an offer from the University of New Orleans. “Hey, dreamer.” Moriko nudged Livia out of her reverie and her friend smiled at her. Moriko, a tiny Japanese-American of exquisite beauty— and she knew it—hoisted herself up onto the counter. “Marcel needs a favor.” Livia hid a grin. When Marcel sent Moriko to do his dirty work, it meant that whatever the favor was, it would be a big—and probably inconvenient —one. “What is it?” “Well, he’s been asked to cater the Renaud party on Saturday. You know which one I mean?” Livia shook her head. “Nope.” Moriko rolled her eyes. “It’s an annual thing Nox Renaud does. He throws a Halloween gala party and gives a ton of money to charity.” “Never heard of him, or it. So, what’s the favor?” Livia thought she could guess—Marcel needed waitstaff. A moment later, Moriko confirmed her suspicions.

“He was going to hire in silver service staff, but apparently they don’t want anything but canapes and cocktails. Silver service staff would cost him more than he’s making so…” Livia smiled at her. “It’s no problem. Usual uniform?” She pulled down on her too-tight white shirt and tucked it back into the black mini she wore to serve. It barely contained her lush curves, her full breasts and softly curved belly. Her legs, long and slender, were encased in black tights and she wore flat pumps, absolutely refusing to wear heels to wait tables. Livia wasn’t the tallest but her long legs made her look taller than her five-five height, and her long tawny waves were her crowning glory. Almost waist length, she had pulled her hair into a bun, but it was forever escaping the clips. Moriko grabbed it now and twisted it up for her. Livia shot her a grateful smile. “Thanks, boo. I really should cut it all off.” “No way,” Moriko said, her own shiny black hair falling in a straight curtain down her back. “I’d kill for your curls.” “So, Saturday night, waitressing for the rich mukety-mucks?” “I’ll be there too. Hey, at least we get to snoop around the rich guy’s house.”

Livia sighed to herself. She honestly didn’t mind helping Marcel out but she had very little time for rich boys with too much money. She’d had to wait on them enough in her time. She went back out to the café and grimaced. Two regulars had just come into the restaurant. Talking of rich mukety-mucks she thought, and plastered a fake smile on her face. The woman, an icy looking blonde with bright red lipstick and cold blue eyes, looked at her dismissively. “Egg-white omelet with spinach and a mango-tini.” She didn’t look at the menu once. Her companion, a suave looking man who at least smiled at Livia and said please and thank you whenever he was in, nodded. “Same for me please, Liv. Good to see you again.” Livia smiled at him. She judged him for the company he kept, but if she was fair, he was always polite to her. She knew his companion was called Odelle, and her father was one of the richest men in the state. It didn’t impress Livia. “You too, sir. Sure I can’t interest either of you in some french fries to go with your salad?” Odelle looked horrified, but her companion grinned. “Why not?” Livia grinned and disappeared into the kitchen. Marcel slunk in and smiled at her. “Thanks for

Saturday, Livvy. I’ll pay you double.” She kissed his cheek. “No problem, pal.” Marcel, his eyes so dark you couldn’t see the pupils, nodded to the restaurant. “I see Elsa and Lumiere are in the restaurant.” Livia laughed. “You’re getting your Disney all mixed up, and anyway, he’s okay. But, yeah, she is the Ice Queen.” “Don’t let their wealth get to you. It was all inherited, not earned.” “Oh, I know, and it doesn’t both me. Money can’t buy breeding,” Livia shrugged off the woman’s rudeness. “I can honestly say these people and their ways don’t keep me up at night, Marcel.” “I’m just saying because I know the man, Roan Saintmarc is Nox Renaud’s best friend. It’s more than likely they’ll be at the party on Saturday.” Marcel grinned at Livia, who rolled her eyes. “Just promise me you won’t tip their meals into their laps.” Livia snorted. “I promise, honey.” “Good girl.”

L IVIA FINISHED out her shift then walked home through the busy streets of the French Quarter. She had fallen in love with this city—the slow, sensual heat, the sultry laid-back nature of the people. Strangely, for a city known for its voodoo and black magic, she had never felt uneasy walking the streets at night here. Moriko was still at work when Livia got back to their apartment and so Livia took a long hot shower then made herself a bowl of soup, grabbing some saltines from the pack in the kitchen. As she ate, she flicked through the television channels, but soon got bored. Dumping her bowl in the sink, she washed it out then decided to go to bed to read. She had a piano recital coming up and she wanted to go through the score again, miming her key strokes in the air. She fell asleep with Moriko’s cat cuddling in next to her, and didn’t hear her roommate come home.

OUT ON THE BAYOU , Nox too had fallen into a deep sleep but his was not so peaceful. Almost instantly the nightmares came. A woman, a beautiful young woman he knew but one whose face he could not see, was calling to him, begging him to save her. There was blood, so much blood, and he ran through the darkened mansion, wading through

something—blood?—to get to her. A dark, malevolent force overcame everything, stopping Nox from reaching the girl. He heard her screams cut off abruptly and knew he was too late. He sank to his knees. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. His mother, smiling at him. “Don’t you know you’ll never save them?” she said, softly. “Everyone you love will die, my beloved son. I died, your father, your brother…Ariel. You’ll always be alone.” Nox awoke, gasping for air in a pool of his own sweat, the certainty of his dream mother’s words screaming around his mind. Don’t fall in love. Don’t risk it. Don’t let anyone else get hurt.

CHAP TER Two Odelle Griffongy lit another cigarette and stood out on the balcony of her bedroom. She hated this holiday, hated this party. And yet Roan, of course, wanted to support his best friend Nox, and so now they were getting dressed to attend. Thank fuck Nox never had a dress code for the cocktail party— Odelle would have feigned a headache otherwise. She looked back into the bedroom where Roan was

dressing, his dark grey suit spectacular with his coloring—medium brown hair, bright blue eyes. Ripped to the max, his hard body and his huge cock made him a machine in bed. Roan Saintmarc was, with the exception of Nox, the handsomest man in New Orleans—probably the state, even—and he was hers. Odelle might have been brought up in the upper echelons of New Orleans society but she knew her brittle beauty would only last so long, and that her cool, aloof nature wouldn’t make her many friends. That’s why she was staggered when Roan, known as the fun-loving one in his group of Harvard grad friends, made a play for her. He could have had anyone. Odelle turned back to see the crowds on the streets of the city. New Orleans went crazy for Halloween —parties everywhere, people haunting the streets, the locals playing up the myths and legends to sell more drink, food, and tourist crap. The normally serene street where Odelle and her cohorts lived were no different: pumpkins and Jack O’ Lanterns, trees bedecked with twinkle lights and fake cobwebs, and Odelle’s least favorite thing, kids trick or treating at every house. Her doorbell rang and although Odelle knew her staff would answer it, she couldn’t help an irritated

“Oh, fuck off.” Her voice carried down to the street, and she heard Roan’s throaty laugh from behind her. “Don’t be a bitch, Delly. It’s a rite of passage, trick or treating.” Odelle made a disgusted noise. “I never did that.” Roan smiled at her, sliding his arms around her waist. “No, you were too busy casting spells and mixing potions.” Odelle studied him coolly. “You think I’m a witch?” “Cue cheesy line from me about you casting a spell on me. No, baby, I don’t think you’re a witch, and —mostly—not even a bitch. You just have a warmth deficiency.” He said it with a grin, and although Odelle knew he meant it as a joke, it still stung. Because it’s true, she told herself. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I be more like Roan? Or Nox, whose heart was so big it actually scared Odelle? Or even Amber, her frenemy, who had once had a thing with Roan. No, Odelle told herself. Don’t go there. Not tonight. She attempted a smile as Roan brushed his lips against hers. “You’re right. It’s just one night.”

“That’s my girl.” Roan looked her up and down in her tight black dress and when his gaze met hers, Odelle saw the desire in his eyes. “Nox won’t mind if we’re a little late.” Odelle smiled and, turning, she bent over the balcony and hitched her skirt up to her waist. She heard Roan chuckle. “Out here? What will the neighbors think?” But then, with a grunt, she felt him thrust into her from behind, his massive cock reaming her cunt as he gripped the metal balustrade with both hands. Odelle closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of him filling her so completely. Her hand drifted down and to stroke her clit as he fucked her, and soon she was moaning and shivering through one orgasm after another, not caring who heard her. Roan was a brutal lover, especially when he came, and Odelle winced as he thrust harder and harder until he blew his load inside of her and withdrew, panting for air and cursing softly with release. He spun her around and ground his mouth down on hers. “God, woman, you drive me fucking crazy.” Odelle smiled and squeezed his diminishing cock in her hands. “Do that to me once more and then we can go to the party.” And they began again.

L IVIA AND MORIKO helped Marcel and his souschef Caterina—Cat—load the trays of canapes into the restaurant’s van before Liv and Moriko hopped in the back for the drive to the Renaud Mansion. Livia was trying to keep the trays from tipping and tie her thick mane up into a chignon at the same time, but the weight of it would not stay clipped. Moriko grinned at her. “Just pull it back. You’ll never get it all up.” “I refuse to be beaten,” Livia muttered. Eventually, Moriko pushed Livia’s hands out of the way. “Let me.” As Livia held the trays of food, Moriko deftly worked Liv’s hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. “That’s the best you’re going to get, girl, so live with it.” Livia tentatively patted it. “You’re a miracle worker. From now on, I’ll pay you to be my hair wrangler.” Moriko laughed. “You couldn’t afford me.” When they arrived at the mansion, they were stunned into silence. The old plantation home had been modernized to some extent—a plaque on the

door detailed its history and its passage to the Renaud family in the 1800s, wherein all slaves were freed and the plantation became a family homestead rather than a working freehold. The imposing white building with shuttered windows and soft light radiating from within was decorated with high-quality Halloween trimmings. Moriko grinned at Livia as they passed a batch of expertly carved pumpkins. “You think they got Michelangelo to do them?” Livia rolled her eyes. The place screamed money and opulence but Livia wasn’t impressed. As they moved into the kitchen, she saw Marcel talking to a young man who was dressed in a dark navy sweater and jeans, and who Livia guessed was the owner’s assistant. He had dark curls and the most intense— and beautiful—green eyes she had ever seen. The stranger sensed her scrutiny and looked up. Their eyes met and Livia felt a shudder of desire ripple through her. God, if even the staff looked like supermodels here… She nudged Moriko. “Does Marcel want us to change now or after we’ve set up?” “After. Apparently, there’s a dedicated room for us.”

“Fancy.” “I know, right? Usually we have to squat in the back of the van to get ready.” Livia snorted and between them, they quickly arranged the canapes on the silver trays. When they had finished, Livia saw the handsome assistant had gone and Marcel was nodding at them. “Lovely job, the food looks great. So, this thing kicks off in an hour but guests are starting to arrive, so we’ll start with the welcome pumpkin-spice sidecars first up. Think you can cope?” “No worries, boss,” Moriko hugged Marcel, who turned red with pleasure. “We’ll show these rich kids a good time…wait, that sounded dirtier than I meant it to.” Livia snorted with laughter as Moriko shrugged. “Come on then, let’s get dressed.”

A HALF HOUR LATER , Livia was regretting the tightness of her skirt. It had been her go-to throughout college—short, black, and figurehugging even back then when she was ten pounds lighter. She’d dragged it out of her closet this morning—it had been the cleanest, most professional skirt she could find. I need to go

shopping, she told herself as she plastered a smile on her face and made the rounds with a tray of drinks. The mansion’s main ballroom (“Main ballroom,” she’d muttered to an amused Moriko, “because the other ballrooms are too small.”) was decorated beautifully, even the cynical Livia had to admit. Twinkle lights draped the walls and soft music was playing as the guests milled around and talked and drank. Moriko was making the first pass with a canape tray and Livia could tell her friend was gritting her teeth, fending off unwanted remarks and come-ons. “Hey, Livvy,” she heard Roan Saintmarc’s voice behind her and turned. She was actually relieved to see a friendly face; if the guests weren’t turning their noses up at her presence, or trying to talk her into bed, they looked through her as if she were invisible. Roan’s smile was friendly. He indicated the man he was talking with, a tall, dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard and dark brown eyes. “San, this is my friend from my favorite restaurant. Livia, this is Sandor Carpentier, a good friend of mine.” Sandor Carpentier had a warm, open smile as he shook Livia’s hand. She grinned at them both, happy to see friendly faces at last. “Can I get you

fellas a refill?” She waved the bottle of Krug she was holding and topped up their glasses. “Boss tells me the good bourbon will be out soon,” she said with a wink. “If I know Nox, it will be,” Roan said, and looked around. “Talking of whom, have you met our lord and master yet, Liv?” She shook her head. “But he would probably tell me to get back to work. Nice seeing you, Mr. Saintmarc, Mr. Carpentier.” “Sandor, please,” the man said, and Livia decided she liked his merry, twinkling eyes. He didn’t seem as aloof as the others, even Roan. “And if you knew Nox, you’d know that’s unlikely. He’d probably insist you join us for a drink.” Livia smiled and made her excuses. Despite what they said, she didn’t want Marcel to get into trouble if she was caught fraternizing with the guests. She made her way back to the kitchen to refill her tray. Moriko was just coming in from the garden. “Hey boo, I just finished up my break and Marcel told me to let you grab one now that I’m done. There are a couple of good places to hide and take your shoes off out there.” Livia smiled at her friend gratefully and headed out

of the kitchen door into the lush gardens. It was darker down here than at the front of the mansion, and she could see a fog coming in off the bayou at the end of the property. Livia thought it was much spookier, befitting the Halloween vibe of the party, and yet more beautiful than any of the decorations inside. With a soft moan, she eased off her heels and wondered why she hadn’t worn her usual flats. No, she knew why—she wanted to make a good impression for Marcel. She knew she could pull off the cool, professional vibe with her heels on, and at least it gave her a few extra inches when she needed to be seen. Still, her feet pulsed with pain and when she put her hot soles on cool ground, she sighed with relief. She crept barefoot into a little grove, and seeing the edge of a stone seat, headed for it. She stopped, seeing the other end was already occupied. “Sorry,” she said, then saw it was the assistant she’d shared a moment with earlier. He had changed out of his sweater and jeans and was now wearing what looked to be a very expensive black suit. Perks of the job, she suspected, but her attention was drawn by the way it fit his broad shoulders and slim figure so well. She meant to turn and go, but the sheer sadness in

his eyes took her breath away. “Are you okay?” Her voice was soft and the man stared at her, his eyes intense, before he half nodded then shook his head. “Not really, but common manners dictate I say I am. So…” His voice was deep—a beautiful, deep baritone that sent a shiver through her. Livia hesitated for a moment, then sat down next to him. “Escaping from the melee? Me too. Just for a minute.” She smiled at him, noticing again how gorgeous he was, except for that pain in his eyes. She wished she could take it away for him. “Are you hiding from the mukety-mucks?” His mouth hitched up in a half-smile. “Kind of.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I won’t tell,” she whispered, and he laughed. It changed his whole face, turning it from brooding and slightly dangerous into a boyish, joyful thing. “Right back at you.” He looked at her name tag. “Livia. Not O-livia?” She shook her head. “No, just Livia.” She shivered at the cool air coming up from the water. “It really is beautiful here.” He nodded, and seeing her trembling, he shrugged out of his jacket and put it around her shoulders.

She felt her face get hot. “Thank you.” They gazed at each other for a long moment, and Livia felt tongue-tied. He smelled wonderful too, all clean linen and woodsy spice, and for a moment she found herself having to resist the urge to run her fingertips over his long, thick lashes. They were so black they looked like he had eyeliner on. She swallowed hard, the desire to kiss this stranger overwhelming and bewildering. She cast around for something to say. “I was thinking, that mist from the bayou must have known there was a Halloween party here tonight.” God, could she have sounded any dumber? She cursed herself, but he smiled at her. “I guess it must have known. I find it…romantic. Dark, malevolent perhaps. But also sensual.” Livia could feel a pulse beating furiously between her legs and was amazed. She hadn’t had this reaction to a man in forever…or ever, if she was being honest. Electricity hung in the air between them. She had to dispel it before she did something reckless. She had Marcel and Moriko to think about here. She nudged him with her shoulder. “Hey, you better get in there before all the food is gone. Honestly, they’re like sharks, these people. Fins and

everything. The food is really good, too. I hope your boss agrees.” Another smile, amused and sweet. “I’m sure he does.” He stood and offered his hand. “Shall we sneak into the kitchen and grab something, then?” Trembling, she took his hand—the skin surprisingly soft and dry—and stood. “Okay. But afterward, you have to tell me your name.” Their bodies were really close now and Livia could feel his body heat through her clothes. He trailed a finger across her cheekbone and Livia shivered. She smiled, but stepped away from him. “I think we’d better get inside.” As much as I’d like to fuck you right here, right now. His smile didn’t change and he squeezed her hand. “Of course.” “Nox!” They both heard the female’s voice from across the garden. “Nox, where the hell are you?” A thrill of panic went through Livia as her companion called out. “Right here, Ambs, keep your shirt on.” I should have known… Livia was frozen. Shit, shit, shit. This was Nox Renaud. He smiled down at her and put his finger

over his lips for a second before his smile widened into a conspiratorial grin. “I have to go.” She nodded and shrugged out of his jacket. “Here, you better have this back. I’m going inside now, anyway.” He thanked her, taking the coat, and with a last regretful look towards her, disappeared back towards the direction of the shouting woman. “Oh fuck,” Livia hissed to herself. “Way to be unprofessional. Catering one-oh-one, don’t almost kiss the client. Jesus.” Her face flaming with embarrassment, she went back into the kitchen and managed to work the rest of the party while avoiding any contact with Nox Renaud or his friends…difficult, but not impossible. When it became clear the party was winding down, Livia hid out in the kitchen and dealt with the clean-up. Marcel was all smiles when he came to thank them both. “Liv, you didn’t need to do this,” he said, looking in amazement at the stack of empty, clean trays she was loading into the van. She grinned at him. “No problem, boss.” She made herself busy untying her apron. “Did you get good feedback?”

“Very good feedback. And a somewhat unexpected bonus, which you’ll find in your paychecks. No, don’t argue. Say what you want about the Renaud family, but Nox is a very generous man. He also told me that I was his go-to caterer for the future, which isn’t saying a lot because he rarely entertains guests, but it’s still something.” “It is something. It’s a big something.” Moriko kissed Marcel’s cheek and he gave her a hug. “Thanks, Morry. He also said he’d be recommending me to his friends and clients. Good guy. Jeez, look at the time. Come on, kids, let’s get out of here. I’ll buy you both a late dinner.”

L ATER , at home in bed, Livia could not help but look up Nox Renaud on the internet. She flicked through pages of photos of him, drinking in the shape of his face, the green eyes that looked just as sad in his childhood pictures as in every photo of him as an adult. She traced his face with her finger. In some pictures he had a beard, which made him look even more handsome, she thought. When she began to read about his history—the murders/suicide of his parents and brother, the mysterious death of his teenage sweetheart, the years of suspicion aimed at Nox himself—she

learned he’d been thoroughly investigated after the death of Ariel Duplas. Nox was only eighteen at the time and was the only suspect, but the police had completely exonerated him. The piece Livia was reading made it clear that his family’s deaths had broken the handsome young man.

S INCE HIS FAMILY tragedy and the subsequent investigation, Renaud has kept a low profile. His luxury food importing business with friend Sandor Carpentier has made him a billionaire, but this has just served to draw more attention and comparisons to other tragic figures. Many locals refer to him as New Orlean’s own Howard Hughes —a reclusive man with a myriad of secrets. Only once a year do we really get to see the man, at his annual benefit on Halloween, but it doesn’t stop gossip magazines the world over wondering about the romantic life of this devastatingly—and some say, dangerously—handsome young man. As he approaches forty, will Nox Renaud ever break free of his past?

GOD , I hope so. The thought came unbidden to Livia as she slid her finger over his photograph. Not that it would have anything to do with her, but she

had sensed something special in the man she had met—that he was more than just another handsome rich boy. There were hidden depths there, she was sure of it. When she went to sleep that night, she dreamed of Nox Renaud and his beautiful green eyes, and of the moment his lips would press against hers.

CHAP TER Three Amber rolled her eyes as Nox sat down at the table. It was the French Quarter, with busy streets and lunchtime crowds, and the restaurant Amber had chosen was almost full. “You’re late again, Renaud. Where’s the Rolex I bought you last year?” Nox sighed, kissing her cheek. “You know I don’t like to wear it out in public. It looks too ostentatious. Not that I’m not grateful for it,” he added, seeing Amber’s frown, “it was a lovely gift, I just don’t know if it’s really me.” Amber opened her mouth to argue, then gave up. Nox looked different, had seemed different— lighter—since the party. Amber had wondered if it was just the relief of getting it over and done with for another year, but it had been a week since the party and every time she had seen him, Nox had

been happy. “What’s going on with you?” She asked him now, and Nox, who was reading the menu, glanced up and smiled at her. “What do you mean?” “I mean…you look different. You look…lighter.” “I haven’t lost weight, far from it.” Amber rolled her eyes again. Nox was nowhere in the vicinity of overweight. “I mean emotionally. You seem to be carrying yourself more cheerfully than usual.” Nox laughed, his green eyes twinkling. “Do I?” “Fine, don’t tell me then.” Amber snatched the menu from him grumpily and sulked behind it. Nox smothered a grin. “Ambs…you ever have one of those moments in life, however fleeting, where someone or something just reminds you why you’re alive? Someone who sets off a thought process that makes you reevaluate your entire existence?” “Is this your fancy way of saying you got laid?” Amber felt a twinge of jealousy go through her and brushed it away. He doesn’t belong to you…he never did.

Nox shook his head. “No, I haven’t…no. I just had a moment with someone, a woman, at the party. I’d like to see her again is all.” “Really?” Amber ran through all of the party guests in her head, and Nox just smiled and shook his head. “Who?” Nox hesitated and smiled ruefully at her. “Can I just have this secret for a little bit? I swear, the moment it becomes more than a…moment…you’ll be the first to know.” Amber relaxed. “Of course, honey.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m very happy for you. It’s about time you got your pickle tickled.” Nox burst out laughing and Amber joined in, her blue eyes amused. As they ordered their food, she studied her friend. They had known each other for more than half their lives. They’d been drawn together by Amber’s twin, Ariel, who had come home from school one day and told her family that she had met the most beautiful boy in the world. She hadn’t been wrong. Nox Renaud was the kind of boy that sculptors made statues of. That strong jaw, those perfectly symmetrical features. Big green eyes. Sensual mouth. God. More than once since Ariel’s death, Amber had wondered if she and Nox would end up together—mostly out of convenience

—but he’d never made an advance and she had never found the courage. She had to admit, it hurt a little that Nox had finally shown interest in someone and it wasn’t her, but she could not begrudge her friend his happiness. Amber’s own love life was…complicated. She always kept two lovers at a time, but never let either near her heart. Her beauty, her wealth, her position in society—she didn’t need a husband, which made her lethal to the women of New Orleans, who kept their husbands away from her. Little did they know, Amber wasn’t interested in any of them. What she wanted was far more complex. Far more Nox-like, she told herself, then pushed the thought away. He would never be hers and she would have to accept that. “So, when are you going to make your move?” She asked Nox, who blinked with nervousness. To her amazement, two spots of pink appeared on Nox’s cheeks as he shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been working on getting the courage up to approach her.” Amber almost spat her water out. Nox Renaud— billionaire, drop-dead-gorgeous businessman—was nervous about asking a girl on a date. “Wow. I haven’t seen you like this since…”

She trailed off and looked away. Ariel was always there, always between them. Amber swallowed the lump in her throat. Nox’s smile had faded and he nodded. “I never thought this day would come, Ambs…and look, no one, no one will ever replace her.” “I know that, sweetie, but hopefully someone will mean just as much to you some day.” His eyes danced in a way she hadn’t seen for years. “I hope so too, Ambs. I really hope so too.”

L IVIA TRIED to stop thinking about Nox Renaud as she practiced her scales up and down, using the plain rhythm to distract herself. In the week since she’d met him, her body had felt wired, her brain whirling. To have that much chemistry with someone she probably would never see again…it didn’t seem right. She faltered in her playing and then crashed her fingers down on the keyboard. “Unless you’re going for some kind of weird Stockhausen thing,” a voice behind her said, “I’m guessing you’re having an off-day.” Livia turned to smile at her tutor. In the few months she had been at the college, her tutor, Charvi Sood, had become more than just a teacher to her. The

two women had bonded over their love of jazz, of Monk, Parker, Davis, and to Charvi’s delight, their mutual admiration for Judy Carmichael, the reason Livia had fallen in love with the genre. Listening to Carmichael’s radio shows when she was living at home with her father, her headphones plugged in to dull the sound of her father shouting drunkenly at the television, she had used the genre as her way to transport herself out of the San Diego heat and here to New Orleans. Charvi put down the stack of scores she had in her hand and peered over her glasses at her young student. “You okay? You’ve been in here practicing all week. You can rest, you know. It may be your Master’s degree, but rest is vital for brainpower.” Livia smiled at her. “I know. I’m trying to distract myself from thinking about a boy. It’s very annoying.” Charvi laughed, shaking her head. “It happens to the best of us. Want to share?” Livia picked out a tune with her forefinger. “It’s embarrassing. He’s way out of my league and—” “Let me stop you there, young lady. No one is out of your league.” Livia sighed. “It’s Nox Renaud.”

That stopped Charvi. “Ah. Well, I would say the problem there isn’t that you’re out of his league, it’s that he’s Nox Renaud.” Livia looked at her friend curiously. “You know him?” “I knew his mother. I’ve met Nox a few times. He’s…an enigma. At least if you believe the gossip.” “He has the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen and he seemed so sweet. Lonely, but sweet. Nice. God, nice is such a bland thing to say, but he was friendly and warm and…” “You have an enormous crush on him.” Livia shrugged. “Yes, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not like we run in the same circles. Forget I said anything.” Charvi smiled. “Well now, let’s channel that desire into your playing. Give me something slow and sensual. And make it up as you go along. Think about Mr. Renaud and let your fingers move across the keyboard.” At first Livia was embarrassed, feeling exposed, but as her fingers stroked the keys she began to find a melody. She closed her eyes and thought about the feeling of him trailing his finger across her cheek,

the scent of his skin, the ocean-green color of his eyes. She played a melody so sweet she wanted to cry, and when she finished and opened her eyes, she felt her face burn red. “Wow, you have it bad,” Charvi teased her and held up her phone. “It needs work, but there’s something there. I’ve recorded it and I’ll email it to you. Your homework is to score it and mould it into a piece you can perform at the end of semester recital.” Livia gaped at her. “Are you kidding me?” She felt panicky at revealing something so personal to an audience. But Charvi nodded. “I’m deadly serious. That was the most connected I’ve ever seen you with your piano, Liv.” She checked her watch. “And I have a seminar. Work on it Liv, and I swear you’ll see what I mean.” Left alone, Livia checked her laptop. Charvi had indeed emailed her the MP3 and as Liv played it back, she realized there was something there. She grabbed some blank score paper and began to write.

NOX LOOKED up as Sandor knocked on the door jamb. “Hey.”

Sandor grinned. “You still working? Dude, it’s Friday night. Let’s go out and have drinks.” Nox chuckled. “I would, but I’m waiting on a call from Italy. Haven’t you got a date?” Sandor shrugged. “She blew me off. I’m kind of relieved, to be honest. I’m getting too old to be dating a different pretty girl each week.” “My heart bleeds for you. So, I’m your consolation prize?” Sandor grinned. “Yup. Grab your cell phone and take the call on that. We’re going drinking.” Nox hesitated. “Alright, but let’s go to the French Quarter.” “Wanna mix with the tourists? Come on then.”

AN HOUR and two shots of bourbon later, Nox relaxed back into his seat and glanced around the bar. He hadn’t told Sandor that the bar he’d chosen was across the street from Marcel Pessou’s restaurant—or that ever since they’d gotten here, Nox had been looking for any sign of Livia. He hadn’t had one night of peace since he’d met her. The feel of her soft skin, her huge chocolate brown

eyes, the way her tawny hair fell in messy waves over her shoulders, it all haunted him. The faint flush of pink when he’d touched her face. He’d been so close to kissing her—which would have been entirely inappropriate. But, god, the feelings he had thought he’d never feel again were whirling and thrashing through him like a storm. He had to see her again—to see if the connection between them hadn’t been just that moment in time. To see if it was real, tangible and something they could build on. Also he really, really needed to kiss her gorgeous pink mouth—it was driving him crazy. “Nox? Buddy?” Nox blinked back into the present. “Sorry, what?” “I was saying, I was taking to Roan at the party. He seems pretty keen on working with us on the Feldman project.” Nox snorted and sipped his bourbon. “What does Roan know about the luxury food trade?” “Nothing, but he does know about the shipping trade,” Sandor gave Nox a reproachful look. “Look, I know you think he’s a playboy, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Besides…he wants to buy his way in.”

“What?” “He told me he wants us three to go into business together. He wants in on the company.” For the first time that night, Nox stopped thinking about Livia, leaning forward to study his friend. “How come he hasn’t said anything to me?” Sandor chuckled. “Because he knows you think he’s a playboy. He’s your best friend, but there’s always been the joker in the pack, and it’s always been Roan. He was feeling me out in the hope I’d do the approach. So, I am. I think it’s something we should talk about. He wants to impress you, buddy, is all.” Nox considered. “I’m open to talking about it, certainly.” Sandor smiled. “So, I can tell him yes?” “Talking about it, San. Nothing more at this stage.” “I love it when you get masterful. Another drink?” “Go for it.” Nox leaned back, his eyes flicking automatically to the restaurant on the other side of the street. He could see the pretty Asian girl who was working with Livia at his party waiting on tables, but there was no sign of Livia. He thought about what Sandor

had said. Roan was Nox’s oldest friend but he was also someone who acted on impulse—he would best be described as reckless. Nox had worked too hard on the business, and not even his love for his friend could override the fact that Roan was not a good bet. Nox rubbed his eyes. Maybe he should loosen up, take a risk. Take a risk… His mind went back to the lovely girl he’d met at his party. Yes, he would take a risk. Enough of skulking like a creep across the street. Tomorrow, he would go the restaurant and ask for her. If she wasn’t there, he’d leave his number. If she was there… He was still smiling when Sandor returned with the drinks.

I T WAS after midnight when Livia left the practice rooms, and as she didn’t have enough cash on her for a cab, she decided to walk home. When she got back to the French Quarter, she decided to go the restaurant and see if Moriko wanted company on her walk home. As she turned into an alley leading to Bourbon Street, she suddenly felt herself being jerked back, and a heavy arm locked around her throat. Shocked into action, she threw her elbows back with all her

strength, cussing and screaming at her attacker. “Get off me, motherfucker!” She slammed her fist back into the man’s groin and he groaned, releasing her. Her anger at full flood and the adrenaline spiking in her system, Livia punched and kicked the mugger until, still groaning, he took off. Yelling “Bitch!” at her as he ran, she unleashed a litany of curse words at him, beyond caring who heard her. Finally, she caught her breath and picked up her bag, turning to go to the restaurant. She stopped. Nox Renaud was looking at her, astonished admiration in his eyes. Livia’s breath caught in her throat. “Well,” he said finally, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Hello again.”

CHAP TER F OUR “I’m absolutely fine,” Livia complained as Marcel fussed over her, making her drink the bourbon he offered. Nox Renaud sat across from her, a small smile playing around his lips. It was as if they shared a secret now, and Livia couldn’t help but grin. “I heard you holler,” Nox told her, “and came to

help, but you’d pretty much wrecked the guy by the time I got there. Pretty badass, if you ask me.” “A girl’s got to look after herself,” Livia said. She couldn’t stop looking at him—she hadn’t imagined how gorgeous he was. Those green eyes, that dark hair and messy curls, they were all as beautiful as she remembered. The way he was looking at her sent thrills through her entire body. Marcel and Moriko seemed to notice the charged atmosphere and, after making sure Livia really was okay after the shock of her mugging, they discreetly disappeared. The restaurant was closed now, only a couple of lamps still on, and in the gloom, Nox took her hands in his. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he said honestly. “I admit, my friend and I came to the Quarter for drinks and I deliberately chose the bar across the street from here…I hoped to see you.” “Which friend?” “Sandor? You might have met him at the party.” Livia nodded. “I did. He seemed lovely.” Nox smiled. “He is. But as lovely as he is, I don’t want to talk about Sandor. Liv, those few moments we spent together in the garden… I don’t want to

presume, but to me, there was something there.” “I felt it too.” She began to tremble as he got out of his seat and stepped closer to her. He was so tall, she felt tiny next to him. He pulled her out of her chair and slid his hands onto her waist—tentative, a question in his eyes. “Is this okay?” Livia nodded and Nox smiled. He bent his head and Livia felt—at last—his lips against hers. The first kiss was brief, hesitant. But it didn’t stop at one, and went on, became more passionate, his fingers tangling in her long hair, pulling her closer. Livia could feel his heart beating in his chest as her own arms snaked around him, her hands feeling the taut muscles of his back. Kissing him was like taking a shot of pure heroin, she imagined. Heady, overwhelming, electric. His lips shaped themselves perfectly to hers, his tongue caressing, massaging hers, his breathing ragged. Finally, desperate for air, they broke apart. “Wow.” Livia breathed. “Wow.” Nox brushed his fingertips across her face. “Livia, may I please take you on a date?” His words seemed so formal after that breathtaking kiss that she giggled. Nox grinned. “I’m sorry, I’m

out of practice. What I mean is, I would like to see you again. And again. And again.” His words made her melt, and she leaned into his embrace. She gazed up at him. “I would like that too, Nox, very much. But…what will your family, your friends think? I’m just a waitress. Well, a grad student, but I’m clearly not of your social circle. Won’t they think badly of me?” “I really don’t care. There is no ‘just’ a waitress or a student. Both of those things are honorable, genuine things. But who cares what our jobs are? You’re Livia, I’m Nox. The rest is just window dressing.” Livia gave a soft moan of desire and he tightened his arms around her. “I’d just like to get to know you, Liv. We can work anything else out together. Let’s just try, that’s all I ask.”

HE WALKED her back to her apartment, but didn’t ask to come in. He kissed her again and it was just as spine-tingling as their earlier kiss. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his huge erection pressed against her belly when he held her tightly, but Nox Renaud was clearly a gentleman. “May I see you tomorrow?”

So proper, so polite. She nodded, grinning. “Tomorrow is my day off, so yes.” “Then would you spend the day with me?” “I’d like that very much.” Nox brushed his lips against hers, his hands gently cradling her face. “Then shall we say ten a.m.?” “Perfect.” The kiss deepened, once again leaving Livia breathless. Nox smiled at her. “Goodnight, lovely Liv.” “Goodnight, Nox.”

SHE FELT BEREFT as she saw him walk away, turning to look at her once more before he turned the corner. His grin made her heart swell. For a moment or two, she stood out in the cool night, blinking. “Did that actually just happen?” She chuckled and went inside. As she opened the door to the apartment, Moriko, dressed in Hello Kitty pajamas, held up a bag of potato chips and said, “You, on the couch, now. You’re not going to bed until you’ve told me everything.”

HE HAD WATCHED Nox and the girl, Livia, walk back to her apartment, following at a safe distance. They were obviously smitten with each other and he guessed they must have met at the party. The party where she was a waitress, and Nox was the billionaire party host. He couldn’t fault Nox on his taste. Livia was beautiful, all sumptuous curves and softness. But still, a waitress… The scandal would be great indeed, especially amongst their cohorts, but that wasn’t what was making him smile. No, it was the thought of Nox and Livia possibly falling deeply in love, so deeply in love that when she was taken from him, Nox would finally be destroyed. And that’s all he ever dreamed of…

CHAP TER F IVE Moriko was sitting on the bathroom cabinet, watching Livia apply her makeup. “I cannot believe you didn’t sleep with him.” Livia rolled her eyes. “Dude, we haven’t even been on a date yet.” “Prude.” Livia grinned. Moriko was a seize-the-moment kind of girl; Livia preferred the slow-burn. “Besides, if we’d had sex in the restaurant, Health and Human

Services would have been outraged.” God, just thinking about sex with Nox was making her hot, but she brushed the thought aside before Moriko could pick up on it. “Look, we’re going on one date. Don’t jump the gun.” “Where’s he taking you?” Livia sighed. “We’re taking each other…I don’t know. We haven’t discussed that yet.” “Too busy sucking face.” Livia laughed aloud. “Well, do you blame me? Have you seen him? Now, go away, I need to finish up here and you’re distracting me.” Moriko hopped down, grinning, and tapped a closed drawer. “Plenty of condoms in there. Take a handful. Better safe than sorry.” Livia pointed out at the door and, grumbling but grinning, Moriko left her alone. Livia shut the door behind her and sighed, leaning against it. Her whole body felt as if she were wired up to the National Grid. If Nox even touched her once, she would jump him. “Calm the fuck down,” she muttered to herself. Still, when she’d finished getting ready, she grabbed some condoms from the drawer and shoved them deep into her purse. Nox was five minutes early. “Sorry, couldn’t wait.”

Livia saw Moriko make a crude gesture behind Nox’s back and glared at her. “Do excuse Moriko, she was raised by wolves.” “All the best people are,” Nox grinned at Livia’s friend, who smiled back at him. “Look after her,” she said. “Later, lovers.” She disappeared back into her bedroom while Livia’s face burned red. “So,” she said, trying not to look flustered in his presence, “what’s the plan?” “Well, last night your roommate told me you hadn’t been in New Orleans for long, so I thought maybe we could take a steamboat trip. We could see the city and talk at the same time. What do you think?” Livia smiled at him. “I think that sounds perfect.”

THE STEAMBOAT NATCHEZ was full of tourists as it began to float down the Mississippi River, but neither Nox nor Livia cared. They sat out on the deck, the weather still very warm despite it being November, breathing in the fresh air. Nox asked Livia about where she had come from. “Southern California, so I’m used to hot weather,” she grinned. “It is different heat here, more

humidity. Sultrier. New Orleans is a very sexy city.” Nox laughed. “If you say so. I’m NOLA born and bred, but I have to admit, sometimes the heat during the day gets to me. So why did you leave SoCal?” Livia looked away from his gaze. “No family to speak of, and Moriko was here. I managed to get a scholarship to the University, so that made it official. I haven’t regretted it once. Especially now.” They smiled at each other and Nox leaned in to kiss her again. “Livia, that night at the party…I haven’t felt a connection like that in years.” “Really?” She was delighted, then frowned. “No, I mean, really? Look at you, you could have anyone.” “I’m fussy,” he said lightly with a grin, but she could see something behind his eyes. “You don’t give away a lot, do you? I mean, I could see the sadness in your eyes when we met… You can talk to me, you know?” Nox’s expression changed for a split second—fear? —but he shook his head. “I’m a firm believer in the past staying in the past. What I want now is for us to get to know each other. Is that something you’d

like, Livvy?” She studied him, leaning on the railing of the steamboat. “Charvi was right about you. You are an enigma.” “Charvi? Charvi Sood?” Nox’s eyes lit up and Livia nodded. “Yes, she knew your mother?” “I’ll say. Charvi was my mom’s best friend.” He looked so excited, like a little boy. “I had no idea she was back in New Orleans.” “She is. She’s my tutor, my mentor, really. I’m sure she’d love to see you.” Nox gave a short laugh. “Why wouldn’t she come to see me herself?” He frowned to himself, obviously deep in thought, and Livia wondered if she had made a mistake mentioning Charvi to him. Nox shook himself. “Well, yes, I’d love to see her.” He smiled at Livia. “So, you’re a master pianist?” She laughed. “Oh, no, I’m really just a beginner, at least when you consider the scope of the craft. My focus is on jazz piano, for this program at least. But, really, I love all classical music. And rock, and blues, and on and on…” “I’m afraid my music knowledge extends as far as

Pearl Jam and Tom Petty. That kind of music.” “I adore both,” Livia encouraged him. “For my undergraduate thesis, for the recital, I did a slowed down piano version of “Rearviewmirror.”” “I gather speed, from you fucking with me…” Nox quoted and their gazes locked. Livia felt breathless. “Anticipation is a marvelous thing,” she said softly and Nox nodded. “Oh, I agree.” He grinned and swept her hair back over her shoulder, stroking the back of his finger down her neck. “Your skin is so soft.” Tingling sensations were racing through her body at his touch. God, I want you, she thought. But as she’d said, the anticipation of making love with this man was electrifying. Her eyes dropped to his groin, his erection obvious in his denim jeans. She looked up at him from underneath her lashes. “I wonder how long we can hold out.” Nox grinned. “Personally speaking, and to be blunt, I think it would be amazing to be inside you right now… But yes, let’s keep this going until we don’t have a choice. Why bow to society’s pressure to rush into anything?” Livia suddenly crushed her lips to his, sliding her hand over his groin and squeezing. God, he was

huge. Nox gave a moan. “God, Livvy, try to make it easy on me, why don’t you?” She chuckled, loving that he’d used her nickname so soon. “Listen, you have all the cards here, Mr. Billionaire. This, at least, is on my terms.” Nox laughed, burying his face in her neck. “You smell so good, it’s intoxicating.” She stroked his dark curls. “How is it I feel like I’ve known you forever?” Nox sat up and studied her. She stroked the thick dark eyelashes she had been dreaming about, and he leaned into her touch. “I know, I feel that too.” She grinned at him. “Nox Renaud, we’re going to have a lot of fun together.” And she meant it. She wanted to erase the haunted look in his eyes forever, even if this thing between them was only fleeting. The thought caused an unexpected shock of pain—already she felt so comfortable with him, they were so in tune with each other. A small voice inside her –whispered, you don’t know him yet, but she pushed it away. For now, they would have fun and that was enough.

THEY

SPENT

a blissful two hours on the riverboat,

and then took a cab back to the French Quarter to an upscale burger joint that Livia suggested. Nox didn’t seem the type to turn his nose up at everyday fare and she was right, he practically swooned over the juicy burger, which was smothered in sautéed mushrooms and melted cheese. Livia grinned at him. “It’s good, right?” “Damn good.” He took a swig from his bottle of beer and she grinned, picking a stray mushroom from his cheek. “I like a man who enjoys his burgers.” Nox muffled a belch in his fist and apologized. Livia chuckled. “Excuse me,” he said and she kissed his cheek. There was already such a change in him now from when they had met. He was relaxed and laid back, and even the sadness in his eyes was less apparent. She couldn’t believe it was because of her. “Tell me more about yourself, Nox.” Her smile faded a little and she looked at him steadily. “I’m so sorry about your family.” There it was, the wariness in his eyes, and he looked away from her for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said. He wound his fingers through hers. “I can’t pretend it didn’t happen and I want to be honest with you from the start. Yeah, it was rough. That doesn’t begin to cover it, but for now I’ll just say…it took some getting over.” “Can you get over something like that?” He shrugged. “I don’t know.” Livia stroked the back of his hand with her finger. “I think society places too much pressure on someone to ‘get over’ things. Why? Why should we get over things? Can’t we just acknowledge that the pain will always hurt like hell, no matter how much time has passed? We just go on, live our lives, pretending we’re okay when we’re not.” She cupped his face in her hand, her eyes locked on his. “That night in the garden, you were so honest with me. I asked you if you were okay and you said you weren’t. Let’s always be that honest with each other, whatever happens, wherever this goes. Deal?” Nox’s eyes were intense on hers. “How old are you, Livia Chatelaine? Because you have the wisdom of someone much, much older. Yes, of course, deal.” He leaned over and kissed her. “We have so much to learn about each other, and I can’t wait. One question…I’ll be forty in two years and you’re what, twenty-three, twenty-four?”

“Twenty-seven.” “Does the age gap bother you?” Livia shifted around and sat on his lap, not caring if the other diners were watching them. She hooked her arms around his neck and nuzzled his nose. “You just said I was much older,” she whispered to him. “So…what age gap?” Nox slid his hand under her shirt and stroked her belly as she kissed him. The feel of his big fingers against her skin made her weak. “God, I want you.” She gave a small moan. Nox grinned wickedly. “Anticipation, remember?” She wriggled against his groin, feeling his cock harden almost instantly, and he groaned. “You are a very bad girl, Livia Chatelaine. The moment I’m inside you can’t come—excuse the pun—soon enough.” She hopped off “Anticipation…”

his

lap

and

smirked.

“Devil woman.” And they both laughed.

AMBER SIGHED as she saw Odelle approaching her. It was late afternoon at the salon and Amber had

just had a blissful massage. The last thing she wanted was for Odelle to ruin her buzz. The blonde woman smiled tentatively at her but it didn’t reach her eyes. That wasn’t anything new with Odelle “Always good to see you, Odelle,” Amber said smoothly, and indicated the tea tray in front of her. “Won’t you join me?” Odelle nodded. “Thank you.” She sat and Amber poured her some herbal tea. “Did you enjoy Nox’s party this year?” Amber was being facetious—she knew Odelle hated public gatherings. Odelle, despite her beauty, didn’t mingle well with people and Amber had always wondered why. Odelle’s famed iciness aside, she rarely made the effort to get to know other people, almost as if she were protecting herself from something. Odelle, Amber, Nox, and Roan had known each other since they were teenagers, but still Amber felt as if she had never really known Odelle. All she knew was that Roan had pursued the blonde woman, and that Odelle had only ever opened up to Nox, who she regarded as an older brother. She studied Odelle now. The other woman looked tired. “Is everything okay with you, Odelle?” “Of course. Roan and I are thinking of getting engaged.”

Amber tried not to spit out her tea. “Really?” She couldn’t help the tone of cynicism that crept into her voice, but she regretted it when Odelle flushed red with annoyance. “Is it so hard to believe?” “No, of course not, I’m sorry. It’s just Roan never mentioned it. Are you sure you want to be tied to, let’s just say, to a man who…” “Can’t keep it in his trousers?” Odelle’s smile was bitter. “You think I don’t know about his other women, Amber? Of course I do. Maybe not all of them, but I have my suspicions.” She looked hard at Amber, who met her gaze steadily. “Then why would you marry him? Why not set your sights on someone else? Nox, for example. You adore him and he thinks very highly of you.” “You think of our group as a revolving door of bedhopping and casual hookups, Amber. Nox is my family. Roan may have his peccadillos but I assure you, it’s me who he comes home to.” Suddenly Amber realized why Odelle had sought her out. She was warning her off. She wanted to marry Roan—Roan, of all people—and was making sure that his friends knew he belonged to her. Amber gave a sad smile. Poor, deluded Odelle.

“I believe you.” Amber causally sipped her tea and they sat in silence for a while. When Odelle left, Amber pulled out her cellphone. She listened to the buzz at the other end of the line and when he answered, she didn’t let him speak. “Roan, just how long has Odelle known about you and me? When did she find out we were fucking?”

R OAN HUNG up the phone and rubbed his eyes. Fuck. He and Amber had been so careful, but now Odelle knew he’d broken her one rule. Don’t shit where you sleep. “I don’t care about random hookups,” she’d told him the night he’d first mentioned marriage. “I do care about you fucking around in our social circle.” And he had been careless. Shit. Marrying Odelle would secure his future—her father was richer than even Nox—and besides, he liked fucking her. He’d liked seeing behind the icy façade. Fuck it. Now he would have to lose all his other girls and make nice with Odelle. He should never have started up with Amber again—Amber, who had nothing to lose by admitting their affair. And that was the allure of the redhead—she simply didn’t give a crap about anyone. Except Nox, of course. Roan couldn’t help the jealousy he felt

towards his friend sometimes; Nox was just so damned good, it was infuriating. Roan sighed and grabbed his cellphone. He would forget the crap with the women in his life and just focus on getting his shot together for the meeting with Nox and Sandor. He wanted in on their company. He was ready to grow up and he needed to focus, because there was one glaring problem in Roan’s otherwise perfect life. He was stone-cold broke.

CHAP TER Six After eating they had wandered the streets, enjoying the atmosphere. Later in the evening, they found themselves at The Spotted Cat, a jazz venue that was jumping with music and crammed with people. Livia and Nox found standing room by the bar and ordered drinks. Livia looked excited. “I keep meaning to come here but never found the time.” Nox grinned at her. “Out of interest, how do you manage? I mean, I know you have the scholarship, but working at the café can’t pay for everything. Actually, scratch that, it’s none of my business.” She laughed. “It’s okay. I get by. I’ve always had to

fight for the basics so it’s become second-nature. Sharing with Morry helps and I don’t need a lot. Thank god for the scholarship, though.” Nox smiled at her openness. She really didn’t care about money, and that was refreshing. He could imagine her happy with just a book and a sandwich —this wasn’t a woman who needed diamonds and pearls. Of all the things he could give her, what she seemed to want was his time. He swept his hand into her hair and pulled her lips to his. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured against her lips, “and I adore you.” Livia chuckled. “You barely know me but I’ll take that. You’re not so bad yourself, rich boy.” Her words were totally without reproach and he felt her mouth curve up in a smile as he kissed her. A band was just setting up and when they began to play, Nox slid his arms around Livia’s waist and pulled her back against his chest. Livia leaned back into him, comfortable with the intimacy already. The band was wild, fun and Nox lost track of time in the sweltering heat, the drink, the heady feeling of this beautiful woman in his arms. More and more people were cramming into the space and his arms tightened around Livia. She turned her head to smile at him and something shifted in both of them as their eyes caught. He pressed his lips to hers and

she turned in his arms, her own wrapping around him. They forgot about the club, the music, the other people. He gazed down at her and mouthed the words “come home with me.” Livia’s smile grew wide and she nodded. Enough anticipation…

TWENTY MINUTES later and they were in a cab back to his mansion. Nox couldn’t stop kissing her, tasting her lips, sweet from the liquor, his fingers tangling in her glorious mane. He hardly remembered how they got to his bedroom but then he was sliding her dress straps down her shoulders and taking one pink nipple into his mouth. He heard her soft moan as she pulled his t-shirt over his head and he tumbled her onto the bed. Livia giggled as he blew a raspberry on her belly then proceeded to tug the rest of her dress and her underwear off. Her fingers went to his zipper as he returned to kiss her mouth, and he felt a wave of pleasure as she freed his cock from his pants. Livia stroked him until his cock was so hard it was painful, but he resisted the temptation to plunge into her and instead made his way down the bed until he could bury his face in her sex. His tongue lashed around her clit and she shuddered and

trembled as she became even more aroused. “Nox…” she whispered as her sex became swollen and sensitive, then he was back, kissing her mouth again. She looked up at him with huge brown eyes that were shining and sleepy with desire. “Do you have a…?” He grinned. “Of course, sweetheart.” He reached over and opened the drawer in his nightstand and pulled out a condom. “Want to help me with it?” She grinned and helped him roll it down over his cock. “Big boy.” She chuckled and yelped as he tickled her, but as he hitched her legs around his waist, she suddenly looked nervous. “Are you okay?” Nox was concerned, but she nodded. “I’m so good, Nox. I just want to savor this moment…” He grinned and slowly, his grin growing at her impatience, slid into her. Livia moaned softly. “You feel so good,” she whispered and smiled up at him as they began to find their rhythm. Nox kissed her throat then found her lips again. Her body was so soft, her breasts pillowy, and he

admired the way her body undulated beneath him as they made love. As the intensity grew, their gazes locked and Nox began to thrust harder, faster, deeper, until Livia’s back arched up and she cried out his name as she came. The sound of it tipped Nox over into his own climax and he came hard, groaning her name. They collapsed back on the bed, laughing, panting for air. “I guess we didn’t hold out for so long,” Livia laughed and rolled onto her side. Nox enjoyed the feel of her breasts pressed up against him and looped an arm around her. “Listen, I wanted to do that for at least a week, so we held out just fine.” He laughed as she rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’ll let you have that one.” She pressed her lips to his. “God, Nox, that was incredible.” “And only the start.” He smoothed a hand down her side. “You have the body of a goddess.” She giggled. “Thank you. Talking of incredible bodies…” She bit down on his nipple gently. “I’ve been dreaming about this one non-stop all week. I even wrote some piano porn about you.” Nox laughed loudly. “Piano porn? I think I’m flattered, even if I’m not too sure what you mean.”

Livia grinned. “It doesn’t matter, I was just being silly.” She kissed his chest then rested her chin on it. “Nice digs you have here.” She looked around the palatial bedroom for the first time, and Nox watched for her reaction. “Actually, really nice.” Nox watched her check out the navy-painted walls, the fireplace stacked with wood—his bedroom could have come out of a Tommy Hilfiger ad. Livia sat up and nodded. “I like your room. Classy, elegant—just like you.” She grinned and ran her hand through his dark, messy curls. “Usually elegant.” She looked at him for along moment, and he was surprised to see her color. “What is it, Liv?” She bit her lower lip, hesitant. “Can I tell you something?” “Of course.” He stroked his finger down her cheek. “Anything.” “I’ve never…I’m mean, I’m not a virgin, but I never knew it could be like that. Sex, I mean. So exhilarating, so…overwhelming.” Nox was silent for a moment. “Baby, are you telling me you’ve never…?” “Had an orgasm? Yup,” she was blushing furiously

now. “I’ve never let myself go like that. I honestly couldn’t have cared less whether I lived or died at that moment, I felt so utterly blissed out. My whole body was…god, I can’t even describe it.” Nox chuckled. “Then I’m honored your first was with me. I promise to do my best to see you come like that every time.” Livia smiled. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but it means a lot to me. And it doesn’t hurt, Mr. Renaud, that you are gorgeous. Seriously, look at you—who wouldn’t come?” “Ha, ha,” he brushed off her compliment, embarrassed. “Liv, you know how you said you wanted honesty? That goes for when we’re in bed too. If I do anything you don’t like, tell me.” “And the same to you.” “Deal” She snuggled into his arms. “So, what do you want to do now?” Nox kissed her. “I’m starving, actually. Want something to eat and I’ll give you a tour of the rest of the house?” Livia stuck her tongue in her cheek. “As long as you promise to show me every single ballroom in

the place, I mean I’ve only seen the main ballroom and…oww…oww! Stop, you maniac!”

NOX TICKLED her until she couldn’t breathe from laughing, then they showered together and wandered down to his kitchen. “This looks familiar.” Livia grinned at him as she hopped up onto a seat at the breakfast bar. “Is this your main kitchen or do you have eleven smaller ones for each meal?” “Funny girl,” Nick leaned over to kiss her. “No, just the one. It’s big enough to feed all seventeen ballrooms though.” Livia laughed. “Can I help?” “Nope, let me feed you, woman. Grilled cheese?” “Perfection.” They chatted easily while he cooked, Livia admiring the way the muscles on his back flexed as he moved. He really was glorious. She adored the way his shaggy black curls fell around his head, the way his green eyes crinkled at the edges. She still couldn’t quite believe she was there, that they had just made love, and that it had been even better than she had dreamed. It seemed somehow surreal,

and yet to be with Nox was so natural. Livia studied him with unashamed lust, and when he caught her eye, he pushed the pan to the back of the stove and came to her. “How,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers, “am I supposed to concentrate on cooking while you look at me like that?” He stepped closer and pulled her legs around him. She was wearing his dress shirt—way too big for her, obviously—and he began to unbutton it, letting the fabric fall apart. He drew the pad of his thumb from her lips, down to her throat, between her breasts and down to her navel, making her shiver with desire. “You’re so beautiful, Livvy.” God, this man… She pulled his lips back to hers then, as they kissed, freed his cock from his jeans. Nox, grinning, produced a condom from the back pocket. “Always be prepared.” She laughed and rolled it onto him before guiding him inside her, moaning as he filled her entirely. “God, Nox…” He thrust hard into her, supporting her with his strong arms as they fucked. Livia bit his chest, kissing his neck and throat, before Nox ground his mouth down on hers. “Livia…”

His cock reamed into her cunt so hard she thought she might slip from her position, and a second later they tumbled to the floor. Livia straddled him as they took each other to the edge of ecstasy all over again. Nox’s fingers gripped her hips, pressing into the soft flesh as she rocked above him, taking him as deep as she could. Livia came once then Nox flipped her onto her back and began to ram his hips as hard as he could, his cock growing harder and thicker, his hands pinning hers to the cool tile floor. Livia urged him on, coming again and again as he neared his peak. Finally, with a long moan, he came, shuddering and trembling, gasping for air. “God, Livia…can we just do that all the time?” “No complaints here.” She grinned at him as he laughed, kissing her tenderly.

THE GRILLED CHEESE was unsalvageable so Nox made fresh sandwiches and they both ate as if they were starving. “It’s all the energy we used up,” Livia said, nodding her head wisely and making him laugh. “Don’t mock, it’s fact that sex uses up fourpoint-six megatons of kilojoule energy for every orgasm.” “You just made that up.”

“Alright I did, but still.” “Lunatic.” She stroked his face. “You’re gorgeous.” He smirked. “Oh, I know.” And he strutted around like a peacock, making her giggle. “What was that? Mick Jagger crossed with a chicken?” Nox gave up his comic strut. “Buzzkill.” Livia giggled. Gorgeous and funny. “Nox Renaud…how on earth haven’t you been snatched up by some woman already? I mean, apart from that face of yours, you’re the full package, aren’t you? I don’t get why you would ever be single.” The smile cracked a little, faded, and Livia cursed herself. “Shit. I’m sorry, did I put my foot in it again?” Nox was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He played with her fingers as he tried to decide what to say. “Liv…when I was a teenager, there was someone. Ariel. We were inseparable, and we both knew it was inevitable that we would end up together. One night, I was getting ready to go pick her up for our senior prom. Amber—that’s her twin sister—called the house in hysterics. Ariel

was missing.” A cloud passed over his handsome features and Livia took his hand, holding it tightly. He smiled at her gratefully before clearing his throat. “They found her body the next day, laid on one of the tombstones in the cemetery. She’d been st—” his voice broke and he looked away from her. Livia was horrified to see tears in his eyes. “Stabbed to death. And not quickly either. Whoever murdered her took his time.” “Oh, god, no.” Livia felt cold. Poor, poor Ariel. The heartbreak on Nox’s face was still obvious even though two decades had passed. Nox looked at Livia now, his green eyes filled with pain. “I never thought anyone could ever…not replace, I hate that word—and it’s not true when you’re talking about another human—but that I would meet someone who made my heart soar. I was wrong.” Livia touched his face. “I want to make you happy again, Nox Renaud.” He wrapped his arms around her. “You already have, Livia.” She kissed him, her heart pounding with sorrow for him. “What will your friends think about me? I mean, I know you’re still friends with Amber…will she think I’m just a gold-digging interloper?”

“No. Amber has always told me that she wants me to be happy. I think, for both of us, we had no closure over Ariel’s death because whoever killed her is still out there. I think you and Amber would be good friends. I certainly hope so.” “On my part, I have no qualms…except perhaps the total chasm in our social situations.” Nox shook his head. “You shouldn’t fixate on that. Really.” “I promise,” she smiled up at him, but then her face turned solemn. “I’m so sorry about Ariel, that’s horrific. The police really had no clues?” “None. Ariel was the sweetest person. No one could have had a reason to harm her.” Livia sighed. “Sadly, there doesn’t seem to be much reason to kill a woman. Some do it just for the thrill.” Nox was silent for a while, but Livia felt his arms tighten around her. “When I heard you scream that night,” he said softly, “when I saw it was you…” “That was just some dude trying to mug me, Nox. I dealt with it.” “Badass.” “You betcha.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Okay, my little warrior woman. Let’s go back to bed and keep each other up all night.”

Chapter Seven Livia’s head was bent over her piano when she heard the commotion outside the practice room. She looked up as Charvi, followed by a couple of excited students, came into the room. Charvi looked stunned, overwhelmed and shocked all at once. She nodded at Livia and then the piano. “You might want to sit down, play that old wreck one last time.” Livia blinked, completely discombobulated. She had been working on her composition, Night,—her ‘piano porn’ as she told Nox—and been so into it that the sudden interruption made her shake her head. “What?” Charvi smiled. “Your boyfriend is a very generous man.” She turned as the wide doors of the music room were opened and a gang of workmen, huffing and puffing, wheeled in a vast trailer. Livia stood as they maneuvered the covered item onto the floor. “You can take this one out,” Charvi ordered them, tapping the piano Livia was working from, “save us

the trouble.” The foreman shrugged. “Sure, no problem.” Livia quickly grabbed her stuff from the rather battered, but much-loved piano, even more confused. Charvi and her students grabbed the dust cloth on the new piano and pulled it off with a flourish. Livia couldn’t help but gasp. Underneath the cloth sat the most beautiful instrument she’d ever seen. Charvi looked gleeful. “You know what this is?” Livia nodded her head weakly. “It’s a Steinway, a Model D concert grand Steinway.” Her legs were shaking. Nox had done this? “It’s Judy Carmichael’s piano. Not hers personally, but her piano of choice.” Charvi was watching her. “That’s right. And Nox donated not just one of these, but four. He’s donated four of these babies to the university, plus countless other new instruments and a huge endowment.” Livia was shocked to her core and also conflicted. She and Nox had only been dating for two weeks… and this was beyond generous. One of the other students was looking at her enviously. “Damn, you must be good in bed.”

“Tony.” Charvi glared at the student. “That’s enough.” “Sorry.” Livia shook her head. “It’s okay. Four Steinways, though?” Charvi looked at the other students. “Give us the room, will you?” After they had gone, Charvi sat Livia down on the new piano stool. “You look like you’re about to collapse. Sit, breathe.” “I just…I mean, what? What does this mean?” Charvi nodded, but she didn’t smile “I think it means he’s smitten.” “This is too much, Charvi. I mean, god…it’s been two weeks. Not that I’m not happy for the university, but…” She opened the lid of the piano and began to press down on the keys. “God, listen to that tone…” She began to play her composition, listening to the deep bass of Swedish steel and copper wire, the treble so sweet and pure. She played through all she had written so far—twice— forgetting Charvi was in the room. Closing her eyes and moving her fingers over the smooth spruce keys, she lost herself in the composition. Livia thought not of the notes she had to play, but of Nox, and of making love with him, the fun and

laughter they had shared over the last few days. They had become almost inseparable in such a short time… She sighed and finished playing, opening her eyes. Charvi gave her a round of applause. “That, sister, is coming along nicely.” Livia grinned. “My piano porn?” Charvi laughed. “I don’t think we’ll call it that in the program. Do you have another title?” Livia flushed. “Night.” Charvi sighed. “I guess it’s no use now to ask you to be cautious with this man.” Livia felt stung. “Charvi…what is it? Why are you so nervous about my relationship with Nox Renaud?” Charvi rubbed her eyes. “It’s not Nox himself as it is the people who surround him. I worry about them affecting you.” Livia snorted. “Charvi, I can look after myself in that respect. Why is it I think you’re keeping something from me? Tell me straight…is Nox dangerous? Tell me now before I fall in love with him, because that is a very real possibility.” Charvi looked upset, and as if she were about to

say something, but then relented. “Just be cautious around his friends. If Nox is anything like Gabriella, then I wish you two nothing but happiness. She was the best person I ever knew.” “Then he is like his mother.” Livia said softly, trying to keep the tone of reproach out of hervoice and Charvi smiled apologetically. “In that case…” Charvi patted her shoulder. “He might have donated the instruments, but you had already started to write that beautiful piece about him, and now you’ve given it his name. Have you invited him to the recital?” “Not yet, but I will. I just have to make sure it’s perfect.” “You will.” Livia looked at her watch. “I have to go thank him.” “Thank him for all of us, would you? Obviously, the Dean will be writing to him to express his gratitude, but from me, from the music department and faculty, say thank you.” Livia hugged her teacher. “I will. And you know, I think he’d love to see you again.” Charvi’s smile faded. “I’m not sure I’m ready.

Gabriella was like a sister to me. Her death still hurts and I…” She sighed. “I’m scared that if Nox has grown to look like his father too much, I might flip out on him and say all the terrible things I wanted to say to Tynan. So, not yet, please. Let me work my way up to it.” Livia nodded, sadness making her chest hurt. One moment in time and so many lives were wrecked. “Of course. Let me just say… Nox is a wonderful man. You won’t find a more generous or kind and open man.” “I believe you. I just need time is all.”

R OAN STARED AT NOX , who looked back steadily. “After all that, just ‘no?’” “Roan, you knew this was a long shot coming in here. If you need money, just ask, but we both know you’re not cut out to be in this business.” “It’s food importing!” Roan threw his hands up in the air and stood up. Nox could see he was agitated and shot a glance at a silent Sandor. Sandor cleared his throat. “Roan, it’s purely from a business standpoint. We’ve made our reputation on no drama and no gossip, by being above board and transparent on

everything. And while you’re a fantastic salesman, that’s not who we are.” He tried to lighten the mood. “It would be like Freddie Mercury joining…Coldplay.” “Or the Allman brothers.” “Sigur Ros.” “Snoop Dogg joining the Spice Girls.” “You’re Scary Spice.” “Am not.” Roan’s mouth hitched up at one side as he tried not to smile. “Don’t make me laugh, I’m mad at you guys.” “We’re just saying we’re too staid for you, buddy. Rather, this company is. Look, you want to talk about setting up a new company doing something entirely different, something that will suit you, and that we could invest in, go for it.” Roan, mollified, sat back down. “You’d consider a new company?” “Sure thing. Something where you’d be the lead and we would be silent partners.” Roan chewed on his lip, and Nox shot Sandor a meaningful look. Sandor nodded. “Look, I have to

make some calls. How about I come back for you in twenty minutes and we’ll grab some lunch?” “Sure thing.” When they were alone, Nox looked at his friend. Roan seemed diminished somehow, stressed, not his usual ebullient self. “What is it, Roan? There’s something going on with you, something more than wanting a new career.” Roan sighed and rubbed his face. “Don’t worry about it.” “I do worry about it.” Nox frowned. “Do you need money?” Roan stayed silent. “You just have to ask,” Nox said in a quiet, calm voice. Roan shook his head. “Thank you, man, but I have to find my own way out of this.” “Surely Odelle’s family…” Nox trailed off as Roan laughed. “Man, if I could keep it my pants maybe she wouldn’t hate me right now.” “Fuck, Roan.” “That’s what I do. Maybe I should start a male escort business.”

Nox ignored that remark. “Odelle knows?” “Yup.” “Who?” Roan hesitated before looking at his friend. “Amber.” Nox rocked back. “You’re kidding?” “Nope.” “Jesus, Roan, don’t you know not to sh—” “Shit where you sleep? Yup. I’m that much of an idiot.” “Jeez.” Roan sighed. “Look, I’ll work on Odelle, apologize, make it up to her. Marry her.” “Odelle may be a strange fish, but she won’t fall for any fake sentiments or actions. If you marry her you had better damn mean it. Or you’ll have me to answer to, as well as Odie.” Nox was irritated, but Roan held up his hands. “I hear you.” He studied his friend. “What about you? You made a move on the lovely Livia yet?” Nox couldn’t help his smile. “That is going very, very well, thanks. She’s adorable.”

“You bringing her to Thanksgiving? You can, you know. She can meet the gang.” Nox smiled, but didn’t answer. “Look, get together an idea for the kind of business you’d like to run, and we’ll talk more, make a business plan. There’s a couple of empty offices here you can use as a base. Don’t harass the female staff, is all I ask.” “Would I?” “Yes.” Roan laughed. “I promise to be good. Thanks, man. I appreciate this.” “Just take it seriously. This could be a turning point.” Roan smiled at his friend. “You know, you’re an excellent big brother.” Nox ignored the pain that shot through him—an excellent big brother, just like Teague was—and hid it with a smile. “Damn straight. And I will kick your ass if you screw this up.” Roan stood and shook Nox’s hand. “I swear to you, Nox, I won’t let you down.” “Go tell that to Odelle.” “I will. Thanks, brother.”

L IVIA WAITED as the receptionist tried not to stare at her. She smiled at the young woman, who flushed slightly. “Sorry.” Livia shrugged. “It’s okay. What’s your name?” “Pia.” “Hey, Pia, I’m Liv. I’m kind of seeing your boss.” Pia smiled. She was young, early twenties Livia guessed, with big blue eyes and jet-black hair. Gorgeous. “I know. He’s such a great guy, great boss, too.” Livia smiled and wondered if Pia had a crush on her boss. She couldn’t blame her. The next minute, Livia realized Nox wasn’t the object of Pia’s affection when Sandor came into the reception and handed her some notes. Pia flushed a deep scarlet and Livia hid a smile. Sandor grinned at her. “Hey, Livvy, great to see you. Does Nox know you’re here?” She shook her head. “I told Pia I’d wait until he was free.” Sandor threw a smile at Pia, which made the young woman light up. “Nah come on, it’s only Roan

who’s in with him.” Sandor led her back to Nox’s office. As she walked with him, she nudged his shoulder. “That girl has a king-sized crush on you.” Sandor rolled his eyes. “I’m old enough to be her father, Liv.” “So?” Sandor laughed. “I’m not a cradle snatcher.” Livia felt a little sting—after all, there was twelve years between her and Nox. Sandor saw her smile falter and guessed what she was thinking. “Totally different situation,” he said hurriedly. “I’m fortyfive, Pia is nineteen.” “Ugh, okay, I get it. Don’t tell Pia I told you.” Sandor knocked at Nox’s door, grinning. “I won’t. She’s young, she’ll find some young boy to fall in love with next week.” He opened the door. “Hey, Renaud, found this little treasure in reception.” Nox looked delighted to see her. “Hey, beautiful, what a nice surprise.” He came to greet her, kissing her on the mouth, lingering over it. Roan snickered. “Get a room.” Livia, blushing, giggled. “Hey, Roan.”

“I was just telling Nox here that we look forward to meeting you formally at Thanksgiving.” Livia rocked back a little. “Formally?” Nox rolled his eyes. “He means properly, all of us. We’ll talk about it over lunch. Guys, do you mind if I take a raincheck?” “Nope.” “Not at all.”

L IVIA TOOK him back to her apartment. He walked around the tiny kitchen/living space and nodded. “I like it, it suits you. Yeah, this is welcoming, warm. And even better, it smells like you—all soft flowers and fresh air.” Flushing, Livia was pleased. Her and Moriko’s home was small but they both loved it, decorating it with colored scarves and art pieces and books. The couch was big and squashy and Livia pushed Nox down on it before straddling him. “So, Mr. Renaud, before I feed you, there’s a little matter of a huge ‘thank you’ to be discussed. Nox, I cannot believe your generosity. Thank you, on behalf of the university, the faculty, the students, and the music department. I’m overwhelmed.”

“I thought you might appreciate practicing on the same instrument as your heroine,” he said shyly, and Livia kissed him, crushing her lips against his. “You’re perfect,” she whispered and sat up, unbuttoning her dress one button at a time, slowing peeling it off. She was naked underneath and Nox groaned, fixing his mouth on her nipple, sucking and teasing them both until they were unbearably sensitive. Livia opened his shirt and his fly, running her hands over his taut muscles, his flat belly. “God, I want you so badly.” With a growl, Nox tipped her to the floor, pressing her knees to her chest and taking her clit into his mouth. Livia gasped at the sensations he sent flooding through her. “I’m supposed to be thanking you,” she gasped and felt the vibration from his laugh rumble through her sex. “You are,” he said, his voice muffled. As he brought her to orgasm, she trembled and cried out his name. He moved up to kiss her mouth. “When you call my name like that…god, Livvy.” He kissed her deeply, passionately. Livia pulled away from his kiss and made her way down his body, trailing her tongue down his chest, his belly, and then took his cock into her mouth, licking the

salty pre-cum from the tip and running her tongue down the thick shaft. His fingers tangled in her hair as she worked on him, feeling his cock harden even more and quiver under her touch. “Jesus, Livvy…” She felt him jerk underneath her, and then his hands were under her shoulders, pulling her on top of him. He slid a condom on and she spread her legs wide for him as he thrust into her. She moaned softly as they began to move together—really, there was nothing like the way he felt inside her, his cock so thick and long, harder than steel, yet the skin silky and soft. They made love slowly, taking their time, their eyes never leaving the other’s face. Livia had never felt a connection like this, had never experienced this intimacy so quickly with someone. She already knew the planes of his face, his mannerisms, the way his eyes would become more intense as they made love—as if she was the only thing he could see, or wanted to see. When they were this close, she wished she could sink into him, become one with him. Her fingernails dug into his firm, rounded buttocks now as he plunged into her again and again. I could die right now and be happy, she thought, and then pulled herself up. Really? Oh shit. She was falling in love with him. No, no, no. It was too quick, too soon. Calm down,

she told herself, burying her face in his neck and kissing his throat. Just let it happen. Nox is the man for you and you know it… “I’m crazy about you,” he whispered suddenly and she nodded. “And I, you, you gorgeous man.” She kissed him, feeling a surge of certainty before all other thoughts were swept away and she was coming, riding her orgasm like a wave as Nox climaxed with her. She wondered if she should tell him she was already on birth control. Something in her wanted to feel his seed deep inside her, to feel his cock inside without any barrier. She was sensible though—they weren’t yet at the stage where they could discuss that and she knew it. But god, to feel his skin against her… would that be something he would go for? Her brain was too endorphin-soaked to think straight right then. Nox’s lips were against hers. “God, you’re beautiful.” He smoothed the hair away from her face. “Chocolate eyes.” She grinned. “Ocean eyes.” He laughed and kissed her. “So…what were we talking about?” “Your incredible generosity. Nox, you didn’t need

to do that.” Nox smiled good-naturedly. “I know, and it wasn’t a ‘thank you for screwing me’ gift so don’t think that. It was time I did something for the university and now I had a focus. Was Charvi pleased?” Livia nodded. “She was.” “Good, I’m glad. I hope that we can meet soon.” Livia wriggled into his arms. “I did speak to her about that. Nox…she’s not ready. She told me she still has so much anger towards your father that if she saw you, saw that you looked like him, she might have some kind of left-brain-hip-check and freak out on you.” Nox was silent for a while. Livia studied him, her brow furrowed. “I hope I haven’t upset you.” “No.” But he sat up and rubbed his face. He picked his shirt up and started to put it on. “I guess, well…” “What?” “I guess I should tell you. Charvi and my mom… way before she was married to my dad, they were close. Very close.” “Lovers?”

Nox nodded. “I was the only one who knew. My mom used to confide in me and she always told me, although she never regretted marrying my dad and having Teague and I, that she hated being estranged from Charvi. That she had loved her entirely.” “Why did your mom leave her?” Nox gave her a sad smile. “Family.” “Enough said. God, the tragedy of it all.” She stroked his face. “Do you think that’s why your father went crazy? He found out?” “I don’t know, Liv, I honestly don’t. Dad was pretty open-minded, pretty progressive. I can’t imagine he would freak out over something like that. Then again, I never imagined he could kill my mother and brother in cold blood.” Livia shivered. “My father was, or is, a drunk asshole but he never laid a hand on me. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you.” He kissed her forehead. “That’s the thing, he was a great dad. Really great. None of those machismo, you-are-boys-so-you-must-be-tough and womenbelong-in-the-kitchen crap. I guess I’ll never understand.” Livia was quiet for a while. “Why did the police believe he was guilty so easily, then? Why didn’t

they look into it further?” He looked surprised. “It was pretty cut and dried, sweetheart. They found Dad with the gun in his mouth, gunshot residue all over him.” “He could have been framed.” “Unlikely, according to the forensic team, but I appreciate you thinking well of him.” He kissed her again. “What about you? You don’t talk about your family that much.” She shrugged. “Not much to tell. Only child, Mom was amazing, but cancer doesn’t discriminate. If the world was fair, it would have taken Dad.” “Do you think you’ll ever see him again?” “I doubt it. It’s no loss, really. My family is here. Moriko and I met first semester in college and have been roommates ever since.” She checked her watch. “Talking of which, she’s due home any minute so you might want to get dressed.” “Too late.” The door was opening as Livia was speaking and a grinning Moriko strode in. “Hey, kids. Nice cock,” she added admiringly to Nox, who was trying to cover himself with his jeans and laughing. Livia burst into giggles as she covered his groin with her body. Moriko’s high laughter rang out as she disappeared into her room. “Let me

know when you’re somewhat decent and I’ll come out.” A few minutes passed and Moriko stuck her head out of the door. She looked disappointed. “Oh. You’re dressed. Give a girl a treat, why don’t you?” She winked at Nox who grinned back. Livia shook her head. “You are terrible. Look, we’re going to order pizza and beer—want in?” “Hell, yes, if I’m not disturbing anything.” “Not at all.” When the pizza arrived, Livia passed out cold beers and they sat out on the tiny balcony that looked over the city. “If you squint,” Moriko told Nox, “you can see Bourbon Street from here.” Nox looked in the direction of the famous street. “Really?” “Squint harder…harder….now close your eyes and imagine Bourbon Street.” Moriko cackled at her joke and Livia giggled, throwing a piece of pizza crust at her friend. “Don’t tease.” “No, no,” Nox said, grinning, “that’s what best friends are supposed to do to the paramour. It is the

law.” Moriko nodded wisely. “You are wise, Young Padawan.” Livia coughed and it sounded suspiciously like ‘geek.’ Moriko smiled, cat-like. “You may mock, Liv, but me and Wondercock here are bonding.” Nox choked on his pizza, laughing, and Liv threw an apologetic look at him. “Sorry, she’s not housetrained yet.” The three of them were having so much fun that Nox decided not to go back to work, and they spent the late afternoon and evening drinking and laughing. At ten p.m. Moriko got up. “Well, it’s been swell, guys. I’m outtie.” “Hot date?” “Tepid, but doable.” Moriko threw her denim jacket on. She winked at Nox. “Good to meet you properly. Look after each other, kids.” And she disappeared into the apartment. “And keep those windows open…it reeks of sex in here.” “Yeah, it does,” mumbled a decidedly drunk Livia, with a satisfied grin. Nox laughed and hoisted her onto his lap. “You’re drunk.”

“Yep.” She kissed him. “And you’re beautiful. Take me to bed, Renaud, and fuck the brains right out of me.” She shrieked as he stood and threw her over his shoulder, carried her into her bedroom, and proceeded to do exactly as she asked.

THE E ND .

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Michelle Love writes about smart, sexy women and the hot alpha billionaires who love them. She has found her own happily ever after with her dream husband and adorable 2 year old. Currently, Michelle is hard at work on the next book in the series, and trying to stay off the Internet. "Thank you for supporting an indie author. Anything you can do, whether it be writing a review, or even simply telling a fellow reader that you enjoyed this, helps keep my baby in diapers. Thanks!" Sign up for her mailing list to receive free books,

advanced notifications before she launches her next book and a standalone alpha billionaire romance (in progress) that will only be available to her email subscribers as a gift! Please join her facebook page to get all updates and the latest news! https://www.facebook.com/MichelleLoveAuthor If you wish to get in contact, please email at [email protected]

COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER

©Copyright 2018 by Michelle Love - All rights Reserved In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights are reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.