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Authors: Mia Loveless

Love Jones For Him (14 page)

BOOK: Love Jones For Him
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“Oh Gordon,” she breathed, laughing with delight and tenderness. Her arms slipped around his broad shoulders, her nose nuzzling his as she smiled teasingly. “You can be so wise. I can bet that my Gran Bette would utterly adore you.”

He smiled. “Something tells me I’ll adore her too, for raising such a sweet-natured, level-headed woman.”

She elbowed him in the belly, making him yelp playfully. But then her eyes twinkled as she stared down into his handsome face. “And you know what? I’m sure that if it had to be the moon option, then it wouldn’t be a problem at all. Because that’s where you take me every time we make love.”

“That good, huh?” he murmured, his smile cocky, pleased.

“Yep,” she admitted, wedging up against him till they fitted like two pieces of a puzzle. She placed her hand on his chest and abstractly viewed the contrast in their skin tone; dusk and dawn.

Then she looked up into his smoldering eyes, adding, “You know it, I know it. I enjoy every moment with you; you interest me, excite me. You make my whole body burst out in song with just your touch. And sometimes I feel like, everything that makes us different, are the same things that make us closer, fit better together.”

A wide grin crossed his face. “So you love me?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice smoky. “Yes, Gordon. I love you.”

His arms grew so tight around her that she had to cry out in protest. Loosening his hold slightly, he sealed her words with a kiss, and then said, “Then that’s all that matters. Life becomes one pleasure trip after another when two people are in love. So long as you feel the same, there’s nothing we can’t work out. Right?”

“So right,” she returned, gazing at him like he’d said the most profound, most earth-changing thing. Which he had, really. Whatever else was going on, she knew they’d fix it. They just had to take things one pleasure trip at a time…

Bonus: Sartinis Revenge

 

Chapter 1

Giovanni Verdi sat at his desk, running his fingers through his thick, curly black hair. His eyes fairly burned a hole in the letter that lay in front of him as he reread it for about the fifteenth time.

We are calling you out for murdering our beloved brother, Simon Sartini. Any chance of a truce is obviously null and void, and we shall not rest until Simon’s murder is avenged. So consider yourself forewarned and know – no matter what you do or where you try to hide, you will be found and brought to justice.

Rachel & Sophia Sartini

The signatures were written in dark, red blood. Giovanni’s nostrils quivered as the scent of it floated past them once again.

Antonio sat across the desk from his uncle Giovanni. He had traveled to Sicily, taking the letter with him to get Giovanni’s advice on how to handle what was surely to be the coming storm of revenge.

“We were so close to bringing this horrid centuries old feud to a close – Rachel and Francesco were betrothed, and everyone seemed happy that things were finally taking a positive turn” He sighed deeply. “Do you have any insight or wisdom you can impart to me, Uncle?”

Giovanni shook his head sadly. “When passions such as these have been aroused in a wronged family, even if your family is not guilty, most assuredly a price will be exacted, and at great cost. Unless it is possible to conclusively prove that the Verdis were framed for the murder of Simon, I’m afraid no Verdi is safe.” He rose and looked out the window at the beautiful vineyard country that surrounded his villa.

“Thank you for seeing me, Uncle,” Antonio replied. “I thought as much, but wanted to let you know of this trouble. I fear you are right, that not one of us is truly safe until the murderer is brought to justice. This was obviously a plot to irrevocably prevent the truce between the families from ever taking place. I must go in search of this assassin myself, and hopefully find a way to bring the truth to light.” He stood, crossed to Giovanni, and clasped him into a quick hug. “Take care of yourself, and you might consider doubling the guard on the villa. I don’t think Sicily is the first place they would look, but as you say, they are hell-bent on revenge and are likely to leave no stone unturned when it comes to tracking down Verdis.”

 

Giovanni emitted a scoffing exhalation. “I’m not afraid, Antonio. I have lived an incredibly long life, far longer than you. It is your children I fear for the most. They are still so young, in vampire terms. Do your best to protect them, and if there is anything I can do to assist you in that, please don’t hesitate to ask.” The men shook hands and nodded at one another respectfully, and then Antonio turned on his heel and exited his uncle’s study.

****

Francesco and Claudia were each busily packing a valise. Their father had just returned home from Sicily the day before, and instructed them to immediately put together necessities for a road trip of undetermined length. They were to take only one good outfit with them, the rest of their clothes were to be very commonplace and well-worn. Their servants had donated most of the ill-fitting old but clean clothes each one was taking along. Antonio wisely realized that if they were dressed like commoners, they would be much less conspicuous to any trackers from the Sartini clan.

Francesco kiddingly threw a pair of slacks and a Henley style shirt at his sister. “Perhaps we should pull a Shakespearean trick and you should masquerade as a boy,” he teased. She gave him a dark look just as their father entered the room.

“Actually, that’s not such a bad idea,” he offered. Claudia groaned audibly, knowing that once her father’s mind was made up, it was hard to change it.

“Are you kidding me, Dad? And how would you expect me to pull that off, with these?” she gestured to her ample bosom while her brother chortled.

“There are such things as elastic bandages to help flatten you out, and loose fitting clothing, too,” Antonio was thinking out loud, his brain running a mile a minute. “You will have to cut your hair short, of course…”

“What?” Claudia shrieked. “Never! And why do I have to go under deep cover – why does Francesco get off scot-free in the disguise department?”

“Why, sister, you flatter me to intimate that I might be able to dress in drag!” her brother wiggled an eyebrow at her comically. But when he finished laughing and saw his father’s face, he knew something he was bound not to like too much was brewing in Antonio’s mind. His father crooked a finger at him, and removed a bottle from his pocket.

Francesco crossed to him reluctantly, wondering what sort of “magic potion” his father was extending to him. To his surprise, it was only a bottle of hair dye – light blond in color. “Oh! Well, you know that old saying that blonds have more fun – I guess I’m about to find out if it’s true!” he crowed, knowing he was getting off much easier than Claudia was. ”Once I’ve ‘lightened up,’ where do you wish me to go, at least at first, father?”

“Florence,” Antonio said flatly. “I’ve arranged safe passage for you, and there’s an old friend with a room there who’s waiting for your arrival.” Cryptically, he added, “For now, I feel it is better you and Claudia do not know where the other will be staying. Just safer, in case anyone tries to pry information from you. Once you’ve gone undetected for a month, I’ll get word to you both so you’ll know how to find the other. There will be a regular messenger I’ll dispatch to each of you, frequently, and through whom you can send me any messages, should you need anything. There will be $100,000 waiting for each of you at your destinations. Be frugal, don’t draw attention to yourselves. If you are clever, you should be able to live off of that for at least two years, if need be. It is my prayer this will be over much sooner than that, however.” He felt exhausted, having masterminded this plan while on his way home, but allowed nothing else to interrupt his concentration. Saving his children was paramount to Antonio.

“But, Daddy,” Claudia pleaded. “Must I really masquerade as a male? How disgusting! And when will you tell me where I will be going?” She flounced on the edge of the bed, pouting and dreading losing her long beautiful hair.

“For now, finish packing, and both of you get a good night’s sleep. You leave before first light. Enrico will be accompanying you, Claudia. That’s all you need to know until you get there. I’ll see you both for a quick breakfast at 4 a.m.” He looked at them lovingly, but wanting to stay strong for their sake, quickly turned and strode out of the room.

Bonus: Namelessly Yours

Chapter One

It was him.

Tamara Jones stole a glance at the handsome stranger as he made his way into the tram. It was Friday night, close to midnight, and just around the usual time he normally showed up on the train. The same stop, the same car. And he looked just as devastating as ever.

Seeing him again almost made it okay that she had to be stuck taking the subway so late during the night – or morning, depending how one looked at it. She’d felt drowsy just a minute ago, but the sudden, welcome sight of him had made her perk up despite herself.

Her handsome stranger had dark raven hair, with thick waves framing close to his nicely shaped head. His square-cut face was striking, all the more so for his light grey eyes, straight, aristocratic nose, and firm, sculpted lips. Hmm, those lips, Tamara thought helplessly, as she sent him another quick look.

He was the kind of man who could enter the vicinity, and just change the whole scenery. Women would look at him with mixed thoughts of appreciation and longing, while the men would glance his way with admiration. He was dressed impeccably; his suit obviously expensive, as was the trench coat he wore over it. He looked like some high-powered lawyer or banker, and she was guessing his age to be around late twenties, or thereabouts.

Tamara wondered if it wasn’t a little pathetic of her to be having a crush on a stranger she only ever saw on the subway. For the past several days, she’d gotten used to seeing him arriving at this same stop. A few times, they’d shared a glance – and once, she’d sent him a tentative smile. When he didn’t smile back, she’d wryly looked away and wondered idly if she wasn’t his type or something.

Tamara had no grand illusions about her looks. Sure, she knew she was hot – but she wasn’t vain into thinking her beauty would stop men in their tracks. And yet she was a woman who was used to getting a fair share of male attention.

Her skin was like toffee. She was average height and had naturally long, curly hair. She kept in great shape, weighed just right for her age – and made sure she wore nice clothes that flattered both her shapely figure and her skin tone. She was twenty-five, and in between relationships. Her last boyfriend had been mixed race, a snotty art collector who’d wanted to turn her into his sex slave. That wouldn’t have been so unbearable a prospect, if she hadn’t discovered he’d also been sleeping with his blonde-haired PA on the side.

And now here she was, having the hots for this nameless stranger who didn’t even seem to know she existed.

That didn’t stop her from wishing and dreaming though.

She knew every detail about his appearance; his height, his lithe, athletic-looking frame, his gorgeous grey eyes. Tamara had dated a white guy in college, if only for a few weeks. She couldn’t remember really being into him – but she could sure see herself being into this one.

He was just the kind of guy she liked: suave good looks, faultless dress sense – and an effortless virility which wafted from him in waves. Just imagining being in bed with a man like him was enough to make her cross and uncross her legs as a thrumming started in her pussy.

Yep, it was, officially, pathetic.

And yet Tamara couldn’t deny that there was something strangely thrilling about fantasizing about this gorgeous stranger, picturing them together in bed – or even getting it on right here on the train.

After all, it was hardly ever crowded, not at this time. In fact, most trips saw this car mostly empty. Tamara had been used to having this car to herself until recently.

And yet there was something strangely thrilling about fantasizing about him, picturing them in bed together. Or even better, getting it on right here on the train.

Tamara shook her head at the thoughts going through her head. What on earth had come over her? She wasn’t even the kind to think like that, about anyone. Not that she was a prude or straitlaced, but she just never had those crazy urges. But then again, maybe she’d never really met anyone who could bring those wild urges to life…

Her eyes kept drawing to the handsome stranger, and she wondered about him, who he could be, what he did. Was he married, or single? Did he have someone he adored, drove him crazy?

No matter how many times she looked away, she felt her gaze coming right back to where he stood in profile, his hand wrapped around a pole to keep steady. There were a few empty seats available, but he probably felt more comfortable standing – or maybe he was keeping it free for old women or something if they had to come on. It felt right to picture him thinking like that. He certainly looked like the gentleman type, she thought with a slight humorous smile to herself.

The train made stop and more and more people went off, with hardly any coming on. Tamara thought of the distance she had to travel each night, but then reminded herself it would be only for a little while more. Besides, with eye candy like him – she glanced his way one more time –taking the subway wasn’t such a dreary prospect as it usually was.

BOOK: Love Jones For Him
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