DARK BLISS (Dangerous Games,) (17 page)

We stood there for a long moment, not moving. I leaned against him,
my face to his chest. His arm was around me, but this time gently, without force.

I
raised my head. The steam had thinned and now I could see his face, perhaps not clearly but enough to see the tenderness in his eyes.

“I love you,” I whispered.

He said nothing but I saw something in his eyes, though I couldn’t say what.

“You don’t need to say it to me,
“ I told him. “I don’t want you to say it until you feel it – if you ever do. I hope someday to hear those words, but this is enough. All I want is for you to let me near, perhaps not as near as I want, but I can wait. And wait. And wait.”

The bitter smile that I’d
so often seen on his lips returned. “What I feel for you is like nothing I’ve felt for any other woman – ever. I don’t know if it’s love. I don’t know if I can love. I want you near though. More than I’ve wanted anything.”

Steam still warmed the room and we stayed where we were another minute, two wet
and naked people holding each other. We were on the fourteenth floor of a posh hotel in the heart of a great city. Above and below us, people slept in their beds or brooded on their worries or dreamed or, yes, made love. Outside, people drove through the darkened streets, worked late in offices, made phone calls to foreign cities where it was day. He and I were as common as two pebbles on a long beach. And as rare.

“What are the odds,” he said at last. “What are the odds that I’d be working on
my bike on one side of a little ridge when those two stopped to set up their branding party?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Fearfully small.”

“Fearfully. Terrifyingly small. One chance in a billion. Too small to ever happen.”

“But it did.”

“By chance?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Not sure. Maybe I’m talking about fate.”

“But you don’t believe in it.”

“The modern Mexican in me doesn’t. But the Aztec believes. Oh, he
believes
.”

“You’re frightening me, Rock.
I don’t want to be part of some dark design of fate.”

“Might not be a dark design.”

“And the Aztec in you scares me too.”

“He only comes out when he’s needed.”

“Well, he’s not needed now. Let’s not talk about fate anymore. Let’s towel off and have some wine and turn on the TV and watch an old movie.”

He smiled. “The Mex
in me thinks that a great idea.”

And so we did, cuddling on the sofa watching something in black and white about two lovers played by actors now long dead, but still alive in movie dreamland. We watched until we both drifted off into sleep and our own dreams. Two pebbles from far sides of the beach whom the tide had tossed together, though whether by chance or fate was hidden.

A
t some
point in the night we woke up and sleepily moved to bed, where after a little groping we folded into each other and fell asleep again.

I woke sometime in mid-morning to the sound of Rock’s voice in the next room. A moment later, he appeared in the doorway. I smiled at him but he didn’t smile back. “Zookeeper called,” he said.

For a moment I was baffled. Then I remembered. Zookeeper was the head of DARC.

“Why did he call?” I asked.

“Don’t know. He’s still on the line.”

“Oh. Well, go on and talk then.” I yawned. “I’m still half asleep.”

“Better wake up fast.”

“What do you mean?”

Rock held the phone out to me, his face unreadable. “He wants to talk to
you
.”

End of Part 1

(The second and final book in this series will be published in about a month. Stay tuned! In the meantime, you may want to read my other book on Amazon, a dirty-funny taboo tale called “Daddy, If I’m a Billionairess, Why Do I Have to Make My Bed?”)

Daddy, If I’m a Billionairess, Why Do I Have to Make My Bed?

Alex Stevens-Macy
is 18 going on 12. She’s rich, spoiled and bratty. She has everything and what she doesn’t have she can buy. So why is she about to run away from home? Because the one thing she wants is the man who’s brought her up, dreamy
Mark Macy
– and he doesn’t want her, not in that way. To Mark, Alex is a little girl,
his
little girl. Since the death of Alex’s mom, Mark has taken his responsibility very seriously, especially since Alex’s latest “prank” resulted in criminal charges. To stay out of jail, she’s been remanded to Mark’s custody until she’s twenty.

So when Alex skips her AA meeting to get high with a bad boyfriend, Mark is furious. He’s waiting for her when she gets home late and when she’s rude and unrepentant, takes her in hand for some old-fashioned discipline. What happens next surprises them both and spins their relationship into a whole new direction.

It also causes a whole new set of problems, since a night of passion doesn’t make Alex any more mature or manageable. In fact it makes her brattier. Enter
Roberta Hardwood
of The Hardwood School of Corrective Guidance for Young Ladies. Hardwood is a former British army sergeant and police officer used to difficult girls. She’s also black and doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She locks down the family mansion and informs her defiant charge that she’s in for six weeks of Billionaire Boot Camp. Task One: make up your bed.

Daddy, If
I’m a Billionairess, Why Do I Have to Make My Bed?
is a dirty-funny romp about sex and love (they aren’t the same), growing up, bird watching, cooking meals, keeping house and taking care of toddlers – and, oh yes, evasive driving techniques.

A Confession from Robin Ripley
: Dear readers, one of my favorite guilty pleasures is taboo family tales (especially if they’re by Selena Kitt). But I also have a gripe. Most usually fade out with the loving couple still locked in a sweaty forbidden embrace, no mention of what happens the Morning After. I’ve always taken that as a concession by the author that an HEA is not in the cards. A midnight tryst is one thing, setting up house is another. My talented niece Madison and I decided to break tradition and write a taboo tale with an HEA.

We also had two other goals. First, to have a heroine who was more than a naïve, dewy-eyed child-woman. We wanted a girl with some edge and sass, a hell-raiser. Our second goal was a story that was funny as well as steamy.
Angst
is fine but we wanted to give our readers (and us) a break from erotic angst, something that had the wacky, unpredictable humor of the old screwball comedies with Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant. Did we succeed? You be the judge. Hope you like it!

From Madison Smart
:

Thanks for reading
DARK BLISS: Dangerous Games, Part 1
. I hope you liked it! If you’d like to be notified when I publish again or give me feedback, drop me a line at:

Madison Smart

©
2014 by Madison Smart

All rights reserved

This
is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. All characters represented within are eighteen years of age or older and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. None of the characters engaging in sexual activities are blood related. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.