An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Shades of Passion ISBN 9781419913266 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Shades of Passion Copyright © 2007 Roxana Blaze Edited by Helen Woodall. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley. Electronic book Publication November 2007 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
SHADES OF PASSION
Roxana Blaze
Dedication To Helen Woodall, my wonderful new editor. Thank you so much for adopting me into your frogs’ pond and for the genuinely warm welcome to test the waters. To my great delight, I’ve found that lily pads are quite comfy and the backstroke isn’t as difficult as I once thought. I’m looking forward to making a splash and taking great leaps under your brilliant, adept guidance.
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Stetson: John B. Stetson Company
Shades of Passion
Chapter One Such a clever, catchy name she’d chosen for her online ad, Gunnar Hawkens mused as he opened the BidWars.com email with the subject line titled Wanted: Wed or Alive. He’d been waiting for this gem to pop into his inbox all day long. Reading, he scanned the gist of it and suppressed the urge to scream victory. “Yes, gotcha.” Oh yeah, he had his ex-wife right where he wanted her. Now she’d be under the same roof with him again and hopefully warming his bed very soon. The body of the email read, “Congratulations, Thomas Lord! Your generous bid has been accepted by the seller. You are now the owner of a trial engagement with Daphne Saunders, and her Timber Lodge, Wyoming ranch situated on two thousand acres. Please note the seller’s agreement to your monetary proposal makes this a legally binding contract.” Making an offer under the alias Thomas Lord had been necessary to ensure her bid acceptance. She’d be raging mad when she discovered his deceit and she’d no doubt threaten to take legal action against him. But not before he took some persuasive action of his own. So he brushed aside the nagging deception and let the euphoria run free. Already he anticipated inhaling the addictive fragrance of her arousal again, gazing at the glitter of lust in her green eyes, feeling that lush body bucking beneath him while he took her with rabid need. Gunnar’s loins surged with aching heat at the memory of her sweet flavor on his tongue and her slick heat welcoming his cock into her core. God how he’d missed her! It’d been torture these past months without contact from her, not one touch, not even the sound of a single word from her husky voice. But the torment was finally over. She was his once again.
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His heart raced as he tried to picture the shocked look on her beautiful face when he showed up on her doorstep—their doorstep. Gunnar chuckled out loud. “You don’t know it yet, babe, but you just accepted your ex right back into your life. You’re mine again—and I’m yours—and no divorce decree can change it.” Ah, but things would be different this time. He wouldn’t be letting her push him away and Daphne would become his wife once again, negating that nasty divorce. Their big rustic cabin and all that land she’d won in the divorce were also his once again but he didn’t give a damn about that. As a fairly wealthy real estate investor, he didn’t need property like he needed her. He had more than enough holdings. But only one Daphne existed in this world and only one man would be getting her. He grinned. “Me.” Gunnar still couldn’t figure out why she’d done this outlandish thing, putting herself and the ranch up for sale on the well-known site BidWars.com. Thank God he’d gotten wind of it in time to place a bid—and a seven-figure one at that. He shuddered to think some other man might have been working his way into her bed by now if he hadn’t had the resources to outbid them all. Apparently she was desperate for money. Why else would she be offering the ranch plus herself in a trial engagement in such a cold way on the internet? Maybe she’d lost her mind? After all, she’d driven him away without an explanation when the words “I do” were barely out of her mouth. Yes, that had to be it. The wife who’d suddenly turned frigid on him, making his life hell for two months of what was supposed to have been their honeymoon, had apparently gone completely mad. But so had he. How could a man madly in love with a lunatic not be crazy himself? Still, he’d never stopped loving her. Obsession wasn’t even close to describing what he felt for her. So he would accept her as she was, do a better job this time getting inside her head and then he’d do what he could to ease her demons. Crazy or not he wanted her back—needed her in order to maintain his own sanity.
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He couldn’t help wondering, though… Besides a fortune, what was she getting out of this engagement farce? What the hell, he was itching to know, was she up to selling herself on the internet like this? “Well you can just bet your ass I’ll find out if it kills me,” he mumbled to himself. Spinning in his chair, he propped his booted feet on the windowsill while his stomach did flip-flops. He tried to imagine what Benjamin would think once he heard what Gunnar had done. No doubt as a lawyer, Ben would have plenty to say about Gunnar taking Daphne back into his life. How could Gunnar ever explain to the man he thought of as his brother that Daphne had been an obsession since the day he’d first laid eyes on her golden beauty riding bareback on one of his horses? His foreman had hired her as a pack-trip and trailriding guide for the ranch’s outfitter business—also part of the property he’d lost to her in the divorce. Ben would never understand the instant connection Gunnar had had with her and the dangerous passion that had consumed him from the moment his flesh had merged with hers. But for reasons that still evaded him, she’d suddenly galloped right out of his life just as quickly as she’d ridden into it. Like a split personality, it seemed as soon as they’d married and she moved in with him, she went from eager and loving to a neurotic woman tumbling off the deep end. She’d checked windows and doors over and over, had a high-end security system installed, changed their phone number and online service providers several times and had sobbed and huddled in corners for no apparent reason. Then there were the passionate nights…the other half of her personality. She’d wept and clung to him begging him never to leave her, never to walk out the door. He closed his eyes remembering, letting his bloodstream heat to lava recalling how she’d gifted him with some of the most intense, fiery lovemaking of his life. But the strangest thing had been her hysterics every time he would walk out the door, accompanied by fits of anger and babbling hallucinations.
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Still, he had loved her deeply, obsessing in his own way. It had broken his heart to see her so lost and troubled and had frustrated him that he could never reach into the dark recesses of her mind and console her. Finally after weeks of roller-coastering, she’d turned into a raving, ranting…well, bitch. She’d pushed him aside, turning him away from their bed and had insisted on a divorce. How could any man fight that? Her cutting, final words came back to him… “Damn you, I’m begging you just to leave. Can’t you see I don’t love you anymore?” Her icy declaration had cut into his heart, slicing it to bits. Yet her eyes, gleaming a vivid green with unshed tears, had somehow said otherwise. Since that day he’d stormed out of his own house, Gunnar had taken time to stand back and analyze the situation. No one could convince him that had been the real Daphne and he was almost certain he’d missed a vital clue somewhere along the way. So by “purchasing” her, he intended to unearth the real reasons behind their divorce. He’d give it one more shot and attempt to rectify things by moving right back into the spacious mountain cabin. He’d woo her in this trial engagement she’d sold to him online and goddamn it, he’d force her to own up to why she’d pushed him out of her life without so much as a “fuck you”. Gunnar studied the original ad with her dazzling photo dangled like bait right next to the graphic of the sprawling log home and stunning Wyoming land he’d once owned with her—the home Ben had lost for him in the divorce. His gaze shifted across the screen to scrutinize the riotous mass of layered silk in various shades of streaked blonde. His cock hardened as he recalled the feel of his hands tangled in its thickness during the throes of sex. Once again he forced back the memory of her spice-scented arousal, the creamy taste of her pussy, the blissful sensation of plunging his stiff shaft into her tight sheath. He balled his hands into fists. Son of a bitch, it had been so damned blissful at first…before things started going rapidly down the shitter. 8
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Unable to help himself, Gunnar perused the plump lips curved into that come-andget-me half-smile. Painted in blood red, the luscious mouth seemed to purr, “Fuck me.” But he was well aware that come-hither look wasn’t intended for him. The last person she would have expected to bid on her ad would be her ex-husband. At the thought of her intention to lure someone other than himself, he clenched his jaw and stared into the sparkling pools. He saw spontaneity, playfulness, happiness and blatant sex appeal. He saw things that had rarely been there before. Did I really make her that unhappy? He got to his feet. Well this time will be different and you can bet your ass I’m not waiting any longer. “No, no more.” Gunnar reached for his Stetson and settled it on his dark head. He sauntered to the wall of soaring office windows and gazed out while his heart galloped in his chest. He’d worked his tail off for over a decade to build this real estate investment company to its current million-dollar worth. He had a spectacular view of the Big Horn Mountains from almost every window of the immaculate Timber Lodge office building. But somehow it had taken on a dreary cast since Daphne had pushed him away. My life isn’t worth living without her. None of this is worth experiencing without her. The thought stunned him. Before meeting Daphne, his money had always been important to him. It had provided him the best views wherever he went, yet he knew now he’d give it all up in a second to have her back. He nodded, knowing what he would do today before the Wyoming sun set behind the craggy horizon. “It’s time to go home. Now. And there’s not a damn thing she can do about it.” No sense in delaying any longer. First he’d make two stops that would be important in implementing his plan of seduction. Then he’d go on over there and introduce her to “Thomas Lord”, her new fiancé, the person she knew only as her highest bidder. 9
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The man she would love again. Niggling doubt forced his heart to pick up speed, hammering behind his breastbone, pounding like a bass drum. He blew out a breath, spun on his boot heels and strode to the door. “Ready or not, my darling wife-to-be, here I come.”
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Chapter Two “Hello, Daphne.” Gunnar stood there on the covered front porch of her log home, one buff shoulder propped against the railing’s rustic pillar, the other draped with a zippered gunnysack of some sort. The nonchalant stance and lazy grin shadowed beneath his tan Stetson belied the gleam of mischief in his dark chocolate eyes. The smoky blue backdrop of the Big Horn Mountains silhouetted his six-foot-four, wide-shouldered frame. He wore a brown leather vest over a snug white T-shirt and blue jeans with frayed holes in the knees—the sight of him almost brought her to her own knees. Her heart lurched at the rugged picture he made. It had been so long since she’d seen him. Too long, she admitted. If vision alone was capable of devouring things, he’d be her dinner by now. And damn it, if he didn’t get the hell out of here soon, she didn’t think she could trust herself not to indulge. Holding the screen door open, she couldn’t speak, not even when his cowboy boots clipped menacingly on the slats of the porch as he sauntered closer. Crossing his arms, he stopped and wedged the toe of one boot inside the door, keeping her from slamming it shut in his gorgeous face. “W-what are you doing here?” Daphne’s pulse beat erratically as she scanned the perimeter of the property. Was the blackmailer watching? Did he know Gunnar had come back? But she saw nothing, no cars on the county road down in the valley, no people lurking about. Just the endless fields of horses and the ice-capped mountains beyond. His smile widened revealing a perfect row of white teeth stark against the bronze of his face. She could vividly recall what it felt like to run her tongue over their smooth 11
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surfaces and then suddenly to be consumed by that wide mouth of his. Her hormones kicked so swiftly into overdrive she almost missed his odd words. “Why, I’ve finally come back home.” She didn’t have time to decipher his meaning. He pushed past her and stepped into the foyer. The scent of leather and manly soap filled her nostrils and bathed her lungs. She inhaled deeper. Was that some sort of faint floral fragrance she detected? Sniffing the air yet again, she tried to place it but it evaded her, making her wonder if she’d imagined it. Daphne returned her thoughts to that rugged aroma she recalled with clarity. God, how long had it been since she’d savored his essence? Four, five months since their last encounter right before the final divorce hearing maybe? Closing her eyes, she drew in another lungful of him. The sensory stimuli sharpened, sliding deep into her groin and making her pussy throb. Visions filled her mind of her legs wrapped around his fit body, his strong arms holding her up while his long, rock-hard cock speared her in the… Stop it, Daphne! She slowly pivoted and faced him, letting the screen door snap closed behind her. With trembling hands, she shoved the pine inside door shut and locked the deadbolt with a resounding click. As was her usual routine, next came the alarm system. She punched in the code and reactivated it. “Home? This isn’t your home anymore and you damn well know it.” He raised a brow and lifted one beefy shoulder. Letting out a deep snort, he replied, “It is now…”and spun toward the kitchen, his boots clacking on hardwood as he made his lazy way past the log staircase. Baffled, she followed on his heels. “Gunnar…” Daphne gripped his solid biceps and tugged but he gently pulled his arm away and just continued right on into the vaulted kitchen. Shaking her hand where the heat from his arm almost singed her flesh, she
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demanded, “What’s going on here? Why have you come back? You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t…” Gunnar jerked open the refrigerator and bent, peering in. The large bag dangled in front of him as he reached inside and light washed over his chiseled face lending a twinkle to his eyes. Something about seeing him here again in what had been their kitchen and making himself very at home did odd things to her womb. He drew out a beer, twisted off the top and tossed it into the trashcan with a clank. “Just taking advantage of an after-hours brew.” To demonstrate, he tipped his head back and took a long swallow. “Ah, nice and cold,” he sighed, scrutinizing her from head to toe with a hot gaze. His tongue came out and took an exaggerated lick of his upper lip and she imagined the tip of it swirling around her hard clit while those long fingers… Enough, Daphne. She folded her arms over her bare midriff. Cold, he’d said? No, she was far from it. His predator’s stare caused a surge of liquid fire to shoot through her bloodstream. Her nipples perked up in response and poked against the thin bra top of her swimsuit. Not moments before he’d arrived, she—and the pistol she’d grown attached to—had just come in off the trail. Refusing to be terrorized any longer, especially in her own home, she’d re-strapped that particular loaded gun to her hip and slipped into her bikini top and shorts. She wanted a life for once. She simply wanted to catch what was left of the afternoon rays while watering her flowerbeds, for God’s sake. Never in a billion years would she have expected to be watering her crotch instead. “Look, your little macho barging-in act isn’t amusing.” Daphne began to back away when he took one step toward her, a gleam of arrogance in his eyes. “I-If you don’t start explaining yourself—or better yet, getting the hell out of here—I’m going to call the sheriff.” Gunnar’s glazed expression faded. He plunked the beer onto the tiled island and moved closer with that trademark swagger of his. Daphne knew that look too, the one 13
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of rage edged by aroused prowess—or was it arousal edged with rage? It didn’t matter one way or the other. They were one and the same where Gunnar Hawkens was concerned and both extremely perilous to her libido. Jesus Christ, was she dreaming? Here she’d gone months without one sight or sound from him and now with one firm rap on the door—bam!—he had her senses on overload. Every gesture, every look and faint aroma made her feel as if she’d just been injected with a forbidden, euphoric drug. Her heart did a little skitter when he swept off the hat and winged it, skimming it across the wooden floor. No matter how much she ordered herself to do so, she couldn’t take her eyes off his every move. And she really should have because the make-orbreak-her, irresistible event occurred just as she expected it would. It was the one thing he knew always got to her—when a lock of his ink-black hair tumbled boyishly across his brow. Oh God, to feel that soft thickness threaded through my fingers again… As if her gawking weren’t enough humiliation, she was acutely aware if she creamed any more, it would be dribbling down the insides of her thighs, embarrassing her beyond recovery. “I’ve missed you, Daphne,” he murmured, following her around the island and backing her into its hard surface. He leaned down and planted his hands on either side of her, caging her in. His eyes were twin orbs of black-as-sin heaven as he held her captive. The heat of his body surrounded her and the charged aroma of him nearly suffocated her. She felt as if she had ceased breathing. Damn it but the flesh-and-blood nearness of him was too much to bear, too tempting. Too dangerous for them both. “Gunnar, I don’t—” “I’ve missed you like mad. Your soft, naked skin beneath mine,” he rasped, lifting a hot hand to cup her cheek. He followed that by sensuously combing his fingers through
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her hair. Goose flesh prickled along her arms and torso, making her areolas ache. “Your wild green eyes first widening when I sink my cock into your wetness, then…” Daphne swallowed the dry lump her gasp inflicted. His bold words were having just as potent an effect on her as his searching touch was. He reached around to knead her ass with his other hand and when he drew her hips toward him, slamming her pussy into his half-hard erection, her frail sanity nearly snapped in two. “What is this—” “The way they flutter shut and roll back in your head when you’re about to come.” He pressed his mouth to hers, just a skim of the lips, whisper-soft and warm, and she thought she’d die with want. “The way your cunt floods my shaft and soaks my balls when you’re burning with arousal.” He flicked his tongue out and she tasted the sharp flavor of beer. “Mmm and your nice big breasts,” he moaned, drawing one side of her bikini over so that her left mound popped out. The blast of cool air conditioning engulfed her flesh. Oh no you don’t, nipple. Don’t you do it. But the pink bud tightened painfully against her silent order, puckering and causing her face to flame with mortification. His perusal scanned her from eyes to chest, quickly heating every cell his gaze skimmed. The bold inspection caressed her flesh like the touch of a strong, loving hand. “God, I’ve missed those luscious breasts.” Stifling a groan, she set her tight grip on the pistol, leaving it holstered. “That’s enough, Gunnar.” With her free hand she pushed against his chest but she may as well have been shoving a concrete wall. His pectorals were solid and warm against her palm, so masculine and enticing. She’d meant to remove her hand when his body remained inert but she just couldn’t help herself. Nearly half a year without a man—without Gunnar— had been like an eternity in celibacy hell.
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“Enough? No, there’s never enough with you. So beautiful, so sexy.” He licked his lips and shook his head, continuing to study her exposed skin. “Son of a bitch, I’ve been lost without you. I’d forgotten just how stunning you really are.” She didn’t initiate more of a move other than to keep one hand on the gun and the other on his chest. It was too risky. She had to get him out of here, even if it meant forcing him with the threat of a bullet. They could be watching—the anonymous person or persons who’d imposed this whole excruciating separation upon them in the first place. You ever see him again or tell him or anyone else a word of this, Gunnar dies, the email had said. If you divorce him and walk away, everyone lives. It’s your choice. Involve the cops and I promise you I’ll kill him before you can take your next breath. Sure, they might catch me and I’ll go to prison, but Gunnar will die first. Remember, I’m watching you, watching you both very closely… All of the notes and incidents that followed had revealed small bits of information that had indicated this person truly did watch their every move. Sometimes she kicked herself for allowing this stranger to instill fear in her so easily without her fighting back or speaking up. But she’d loved Gunnar more than anything. She hadn’t wanted to take the chance, to test this dangerous lunatic. But the creepy emails hadn’t been the only reminders this person meant business. There’d been the rattler that had been delivered to her by courier. She’d narrowly escaped being bitten. Twice, the packed lunches she’d taken out on the range with her had made her violently ill within minutes of eating them. She shivered, remembering. Which told her someone had been in her house. That had in turn prompted her to have the security system upgraded. Then there were the large burrs planted beneath her saddle, causing her stallion to buck—and putting her in the hospital with a broken arm, a concussion and a slipped disk. The harasser had taken daring responsibility for the break-ins, as well as the threatening phone calls during Gunnar’s out-of-town trips to buy or sell his real estate.
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As instructed, she’d kept that information from him as well. It had felt so real and so terrifying, she’d done exactly what she was told to do in order to keep her husband safe. All the signs had been there that this person meant deadly business, so she’d been traumatized and easily exploited. She’d let this intruder bully her into thinking it would be a lethal mistake to call the cops or to tell Gunnar what was happening to her—to them. Her sanity had been at risk and she’d racked her brains to try and figure out just who was doing this terrible thing. Her old boyfriend, Jude, perhaps? He’d turned out to be enough of a controlling asshole that she wouldn’t put it past him. Or maybe it had been one of their employees at the outfitter. There had been a couple she’d had run-ins with. That would certainly explain the burrs under the saddle, the poisoned food and the ability to pull off the break-ins with no clues left behind. She could acutely recall the utter fright and the jittery nerves, the constant pulsepounding fear and paranoia. Daphne would gladly have given up her sanity—even the man she loved—to be rid of the terror and the threats against Gunnar’s life. It was better, she’d finally concluded, to exist without him and know he lived than to take the chance and find him murdered after she’d gone to the police. So she’d gotten tough and mean and drove Gunnar away. At the time, she did what she thought was best. It had seemed to be her only alternative. And maybe it had been the right thing because Gunnar was alive. But she was certain the blackmailer continued to watch her every move. She felt his eerie presence, could always sense someone keeping her under surveillance. The emails had continued too but on a less frequent basis. One of the last few, though spine-chilling, had been somewhat comforting. You’re being such a good girl, so obedient. Thanks to you, Gunnar still lives. Then a week ago, the bomb had been dropped. The note had stated that Gunnar would die if she didn’t comply and put the ranch up for sale. All that time since the
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divorce, she’d been lulled into a false sense of security thinking the real threats had mostly ended. But that sudden email had been her undoing. Goddamn it, she wanted out for good. Daphne longed to end the torment, to sell and move anonymously to the opposite side of the world. She needed money, though. She couldn’t just walk away without any proceeds to get her back on her feet. So she’d immediately called a real estate agent and had been crushed to be told it could take months to sell given the steep value of the land. Not everyone, the agent had scoffed, could afford to purchase a seven-figure piece of property “just like that”. Well, there was no fucking way she was waiting that long to see what the blackmailer would do next. So via the internet she’d found her own alternative methods to expedite the sale of the ranch. Using her trump card, she’d offered a trial engagement—made more tempting by displaying a seductive photo of herself—along with the purchase of the estate. Daphne knew her power over men. She’d hoped one look at her sexy, alluring smile and the bonus of herself along with the property would bring her the big bucks fast—big enough to get her the hell out of Timber Lodge ASAP. Oh, she wouldn’t be tying herself to a stranger or marrying anyone—despite the agreement—that was for damn sure. It was all a ruse to rush the sale and preserve her sanity. She’d take the money this Thomas Lord would pay for the ranch and the opportunity at possible marriage—the naïve idiot—and flee all the way to Acapulco under an assumed name. Yeah, that’s what she’d do. As soon as she got Gunnar the hell out of her house. Daphne’s stomach churned. She didn’t relish leaving Gunnar or her beloved Wyoming behind but how else was she to put an end to this dilemma she’d somehow gotten caught up in? Hopefully she’d done the right thing in order to finally get rid of this festering harasser. So far so good. No more emails had arrived since putting the place up on BidWars. Gunnar would now be safe, she’d be out of harm’s way and the jerk would 18
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have nothing more to hold over her head. In fact, he wouldn’t even know where to find her in order to do so. But seeing Gunnar now, after months of silence, really threw a wrench into her plans. She’d learned to live without him here at the place that had once been their honeymoon love nest. But guilt plagued her as she stared at his unwavering expression. She hadn’t wanted to take his damn money or his home from him in the divorce but Daphne had to do what was best for her—for him. So here he was again stirring up all the mixed emotions of lost love and the terror she’d felt for him. But she had to be firm for both their sakes. Determined not to fall prey to his charms once more, she shoved as hard as she could and managed to make him stumble backwards. “Would you just get the hell out of here? You’ve got lots of other properties to call home and I’m sure there’re other women at your beck and call to seduce. But I won’t be one of them anymore.” She sidled toward the door leading into the hallway. “Now go.” He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.” “But you can’t just—” He’d closed the space before she could even blink. In a flash, his mouth was on hers again, devouring her resolve and sucking the fear and pain right out of her. As it always had, her mind went to mush when Gunnar kissed her. She moaned and tried not to think of what a spineless twit she was. Instead, she let go of the holstered gun, set both hands on his big shoulders and allowed him to lift her onto the island while his mouth remained sealed to hers. She thought she heard her ass sizzle when the cool tiled surface made contact with the cloth of her damp crotch. The swelling of her labia tingled against the hard surface and she let out a whimper when he bent and took her nipple into his mouth through the fabric. Lost now to all common sense, Daphne’s head fell back in capitulation. She slapped her hands onto the countertop behind her. “Oh God…” She didn’t like the raspy sound
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of surrender that erupted from deep in her throat but then again, hearing the caged lust finally slip out was like a license to give herself over to him. Why not? Just a kiss or two to savor… Unable to resist the heat of his hard body, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He still had the bag over his shoulder and curiosity got the better of her when its roughness abraded the sensitive flesh on the inside of her right knee. “What’s in the sack?” she mumbled, pulling him closer. Something hard in its contents rapped against her leg and she flinched. “You’ll see…” He shoved the bag behind him so it rested across his back and out of the way. Her interest was roused but her senses were too drugged to pursue it further. Instead, she spread her legs and welcomed him nearer. “Yeah, there you go.” He returned to her breast, making her shiver. His voice came out hoarse and his hot breath fanned one tight peak. Laving the areola with the tip of his wet tongue, he chased the taut knot with a hunger like never before. Flames licked wherever he touched, flashing into her cunt. When she thought she’d go mad with the need for him to travel lower and taste her damp slit, he finally released her breast and swooped in for her mouth instead. The flavor of beer had already softened on his lips but she relished every drop. Their tongues dueled frantically and she slid her legs around his hips drawing him further into the V of her thighs. “Mmm, that’s my girl,” he whispered into the kiss. “Open up to me. I’ve missed you so damn much. Let me finally have you again. That tight little pussy of yours has haunted my wet dreams every night since you left me.” His words were a dangerous aphrodisiac—just him being here was perilous for them both. She needed to remember that and get him out of here. In just a minute. Since you left me, since you left me…
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He didn’t know there had been some very valid reasons for leaving him. But Daphne didn’t want to think about it right now, about any of the threats or dangers, because she felt so completely safe with him behind locked doors. Just one time, just this once and then you’ve got to get him out of here. Even aware she took risks, she just couldn’t focus on them at the moment. Hell, she couldn’t think of anything else but Gunnar, not with all this sexual stimuli bombarding her. Certainly not when she heard him fumbling with his belt and zipper and felt the stiffness of his cock probing her clothed juncture. Glancing down between her legs, Daphne watched as his arousal sprang free. She choked on her own breath. So amazingly big! She marveled that it had ever fit even halfway inside her vagina. She’d forgotten just how long and thick it was. It had always been a challenge to wrap her hand around the girth or to take him into her mouth. But his huge manhood had been such heaven filling her passage, bringing her to multiple orgasms. A pounding heat erupted deep in her groin as she studied the beautiful purplish head and the long rod with its distinctive vein. Soon it would be inside her…if she allowed it. Should she? “See how hard I am for you, baby?” Yes, how could I not? Do it, Daphne, just this once… He palmed himself and dragged the head over the thin fabric between her thighs. Her eyes crossed when he found her clitoris through the cloth and shards of white-hot desire exploded in her pussy. His sparkling onyx eyes studied her face as he continued to speak in that gravelly, irresistible voice of his. “I’ve been in a constant state of need for you ever since the divorce. But no more, Daph, no more. I’ve got to have you again before I go mad.” She didn’t see it coming. He reached down and seized the damp strip of panties and shorts. Watching with an odd emotion of shock mixed with desire, her mesmerized gaze beheld the long tanned fingers as they curled around the cloth and pulled. Her 21
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scrutiny moved higher to devour the biceps and she could vividly recall the hardness of his muscles when she’d gripped his arms while on the brink of paradise. Now they flexed against the cotton of his shirt as he firmly yanked upward, ripping the crotch until the garment lay tattered against one inner thigh. Daphne struggled for air. He’d never been so forceful and determined before now. The feral look in his eyes, accompanied by the cool air that fanned her exposed cunt, made more cream gush out and coat her swollen sex lips. “Gunnar…” “Shh, shh.” He molded his mouth to hers and eased his tongue between her pursed lips. Leaning closer, he pressed his erection against the exposed juncture between her thighs. Daphne moaned into his mouth and relaxed so that the tip of his manhood became soaked by her juices. She was so damn aroused, how was she to fight this? He kneaded her hips, briefly brushing his hand over the gun and holster she still wore strapped to her waist. Breaking free of the kiss, he moved lower and let out a pleased grunt when she leaned her head to the side to offer him better access to her neck. “You won’t be needing that anymore,” he murmured, tasting her flesh. She fielded a wave of shivers. “W-what?” “The gun,” he replied, dragging his hand over its bulk. “I assume you’re wearing it because you’ve been scared, all alone out here since I left. But you won’t need it anymore. I’m back now and I’ll protect you.” She sighed at his naïve words, certain she heard her heart tumble and crash in her chest. “Oh Gunnar, don’t do this, don’t…” He licked and nipped between panting words. “I’ve forgotten how delicious you are. I want to taste you. All of you.” There wasn’t any way she could have misunderstood that declaration. He’d always had an appetite for her pussy. Knowing he’d soon be feasting on her made her canal
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clench and throb in anticipation. Ah but it seemed he’d be taking his sweet time. She hitched in a breath and closed her eyes, resigned to the power of his seduction. He moved lower, feeding on the hollow of her neck, then yanking aside her swimsuit top. The familiar scent of his shampoo filled her nostrils as his tongue traced her collarbone and his hands lifted the weight of her breasts. With the skill of Casanova, his thumbs stroked her beaded nipples, transforming them into precise darts. He started a trail of kisses down the valley of her cleavage, shifted across her ribs, into her navel. Tremors of sexual delight flooded her senses and warmed her womb. “Oh God,” she groaned, knowing all too well his destination—her damp slit. The gleeful knowledge of it had her whimpering and sliding her fingers into his thick hair. Her loins pounded with demanding desire, so she gently guided his head lower to ease the ache. “Damn, I’ve missed you.” He obliged, bending to take one firm lick of her clitoris. When the bag fell forward interfering once again, he finally shrugged it off and set it on the floor at his feet. Smacking his lips, he murmured, “So delicious, baby.” She sucked in a breath, taming the urge to buck her hips closer to his mouth. Her nub engorged, begging for more. But he took his sweet time studying her moist pussy, swirling a finger over the knot and then slipping the digit deep into her passage. “I want you so fucking bad.” “Mmm, yeah.” Daphne closed her eyes and spread her legs wider, just about to come undone when he did that talented butterfly thing over her clit with his thumb while he finger-fucked her cunt. He hooked one arm under and then over her thigh, reaching until his fingertip touched the top of her shaved labia. She inhaled raggedly when he stretched her folds wide and replaced his thumb with his talented tongue. She jolted, clenching her thighs against his ears and cried out, “Yes!” It encouraged him to increase the intensity. His wet tongue fluttered then flickered, fluttered then flickered. It seemed zaps of voltage shocked her system, making her pussy muscles constrict around the long finger he fucked her with. Daphne threw her 23
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head back and purred low in her throat, riding out the pre-orgasmic euphoria. As blazing fire licked at her cunt, she wondered how she’d gone for so many months without this, without him. More so, how would she leave Wyoming after the sale of the ranch and live the rest of her life without him? It was almost as if he read her mind and sensed her sudden sadness. As if to say, “Uh-uh, you’re not going anywhere,” Gunnar tightened his hold on her hip and jerked her closer. He added another finger to her drenched passage and increased the tempo and pressure of his tongue. His fevered, forceful passion was her undoing. Daphne wrapped her legs around his head and fisted her hands in his hair, holding his face to her mound. She could feel the slight abrasion of the short stubble on his jaw as it scraped her inner thighs with his circular head movements. But every bit of pain and pleasure he inflicted on her only fueled her libido more. The sudden wild undulation of her hips didn’t seem to faze him. He rocked back and forth, up and down with her, lapping her juices and impaling her with more fingers. Swirling yet another digit now and then around her soaked anus, he forced her long-buried need for ecstasy to reach out and break free. Desire mounted, the sensation engulfing her core one of indefinable intensity. She rode the rising, red-hot heat of it, releasing herself deeper and deeper into abandon. Daphne bit her lip as the edge of the orgasm finally took hold. Every muscle in her body went taut. Clamping her eyes shut, she let out a long moan of bliss. “Oh God…Gunnar, Gunnar.” Twitching against his face, she welcomed the torrid flames consuming her loins. Her passage convulsed around his fingers and he pumped harder, drawing out her ecstasy. For a long moment she rode the climax with her eyes closed, savoring the feral dance of his tongue on her rock-hard clitoris. But finally she opened them, longing to see his handsome face as he brought her unbearable pleasure between her legs. 24
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Her heart did a sort of stutter when their eyes met. She looked down into the rugged face of a devilish archangel, his inky irises glazed with lust and something far more emotional. It seemed he looked deep into her soul to say things she dared not listen to. Wouldn’t listen to. Daphne’s hunger finally ebbed and her body relaxed. The faint scent of her sex drifted up to her as he slowly pulled back, his hot breath fanning her soaked pussy. Milky honey smeared the five-o’clock whiskers of his strong jaw and he growled in satisfaction, bending to take one last flickering taste. At the quick stimuli, her breath caught in her windpipe. Taking pity on her hypersensitivity, Gunnar instead started a trail of kisses up her leg and across her hip. The tenderness had her sighing and she at last collapsed back on the island. Doubts and regret overpowered her but she didn’t have time now to force him away in shame or give herself a mental lashing. Gunnar straightened, breathing almost as rapidly as she did while he slurped her cum from his lips and chin. “Now for the fireworks finale…” She knew at that second what had just passed between them had been merely an opening act. The real show was yet to come. She was also aware their danger had compounded as each minute ticked by with his SUV parked out front. Still, Daphne couldn’t help but gaze down at his swollen erection and watch in utter fascination as he disrobed, completely unleashing the beast.
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Chapter Three He’d taken dessert first but that didn’t mean he was skipping the main course. He would have her, all of her, before the sun set today and he would prove his love to her if it was the last thing he did in this lifetime. The weapon had fallen out onto the countertop, so Gunnar unfastened her leather holster with trembling fingers and set it aside. He’d never seen her strap a gun to her hip before but despite the vague alarm of it, there was something highly erotic about it. He shoved the thought aside, peeled off her torn garment and bikini top and cradled her soft body in his arms. With one arm hooked under her bent knees and the other supporting her back, he held her up just far enough so that the tip of his penis barely touched her soft rear. “Sweet.” He looked into her lustrous green eyes and made a smacking noise with his mouth before starting toward the stairs. “You always were so damn sweet.” “Gunnar, I—” “No, don’t say a thing. Please just hush.” Holy hell, if he didn’t get to the bedroom soon he’d be inside her and coming before he even got to the stairs. The last thing he’d expected was to be dining between her legs within five minutes of walking in the door. But he’d take what he could now and ask questions later. As he stumbled toward the door, he remembered the bag and spun back. “Damn, forgot something.” Holding her firmly against him, he squatted, picked up the bag and drew the long strap over his head. Careful not to squish the contents, he settled it gently across his lower back. “What’s in the bag?” she sighed as he started up the hallway. Her cheek rested on his shoulder while one hand played lazily with the hair at his nape. The other kneaded 26
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his right pec, tweaking his nipple and increasing the ache in his loins. He could feel the bulk of one large breast pressing against his chest, the nipple still erect and searing him like a flaming arrow. The essence of her pussy was pure sexual decadence. It entwined with her faint perfume and wafted up from her body, teasing his senses and tempting him to a state of madness. “You’ll see.” He made it to the bottom of the stairs. Her weight bumping against his cock was total torture but he had romance in mind. He needed to convince her of his love and determination to get her back. “And I want you to remember I’m going to ask you to hear me out before you start fighting me.” She bit her lip. “I-I’m not going to fight you. I guess I don’t need to admit I want you just as much as you apparently want me.” She lifted her head and his heart skittered when he gazed into her tear-filled eyes. “But please make it quick. You have to leave as soon as possible.” “You might as well get it straight in your pretty head that I’m not going anywhere,” he growled as he started up the stairs. He could hear the contents of the bag bumping against his back, reminding him this was his one chance to convince her. “Best to just get rid of that old impulse of yours to push me away. I swear to you, this time is going to be different. I’m not going to be bullied into leaving my wife.” “But I’m not your—” “Don’t argue with me.” No way he’d be letting her bring this all to a grinding halt after that starved, eager reaction he’d just gotten out of her. Her actions definitely spoke louder than her words. He sucked in a breath when she wiggled, innocently repositioning herself. Yes, her actions unquestionably spoke loud and clear to his libido. “This is our home, whether you choose to accept that or not. And you’re my…” She sniffled. “I’m your what?” “Never mind. Jesus, I can’t wait any longer.” He’d made it about halfway up the stairs but her squirming and his stumbling had all jostled her enough to drive him mad. The side of her soft buttocks had been abrading over the head of his cock with every 27
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step he’d taken. No man alive could withstand that sexual invitation or her hot little body. Gunnar shifted her so she straddled him even as he climbed the steps. She was barely settled when he slipped inside her—oh yeah, finally. He stopped on the landing, clamped his eyes shut and growled, “Ah, so tight, so damn wet. Way more than I recall.” When her weight settled around him she let out a feral groan, the kind that said “Yes” without actually voicing the word. Her legs pushed aside the bag and she hooked her ankles at the base of his spine. The scalding heat and tensing of her cunt muscles made him wonder if he’d even make it to the bed before letting go of his restraint. He staggered to the top of the stairs and turned into the master bedroom that had once been their haven. It would be again from this moment on, that he vowed with his life. Gunnar wanted her badly, longed to fuck her in every room of the house, on every acre of their property—against the wall, on the stairs, in the tub, on the bearskin rug before the fireplace, in the stables, in the pool, on the mountain trails. She was so fucking sexy, he thought as he crossed the plush carpeted floor and tumbled to the bed still joined to her. Gently falling on top of her, he sank the last inch into her passage, straight to the hilt. She cried out when the tip of his cock touched her womb. Its soft, moist warmth pressed against the head of his shaft felt so alluring and so very female he nearly let go then and there. Tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes and soaked her hair. “Ah, my love. Gunnar, my wild, handsome Gunnar,” she whispered, framing his face in her hands, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his lips. “I’ve missed you so, so much.” He pushed up on his hands and drew the bag over his head, placing it within reach. Gripping her wrists, he forced her arms above her head. The move caused her round, fleshy breasts to perk up, the erect rosy peaks standing tall and luscious. Rosy…yes, it was time to break out the surprise.
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“I can’t even begin to explain how much I missed you. But no more. I’m here for good, Daph—I’m not going anywhere anymore.” He single-handedly gripped both of her wrists. With his free hand, he dragged the bag so it lay above her head and awkwardly unzipped it. Was that terror he saw clouding her eyes? “We…we have to talk. I need to tell you…” “Hush,” he rasped, closing his mouth over hers to suppress her words. “No talking. Right now, I just want to hear your sighs and moans, I want your loud cries of ecstasy to pierce my ears and echo in my soul. But first…” “Yes, yes.” Her racking sobs burst out so abruptly, he jolted. She yanked her arms free and threw them around his neck. Her ankles remained hooked behind him and she clung to him, taking him deeper still, murmuring, “Fuck me, Gunnar. Fuck me so hard and fast we fly to another world and never come back.” Another world. Those two simple words were the key to something he couldn’t quite place. It was as if she’d been begging him to take her away all along, as if that would have been the answer to their problems all those months ago. Well, he’d have plenty of time to explore her declaration later. For now, he didn’t think his balls could take anymore engorgement. But there was a point to be made here first—make that several, he decided as his mind took inventory of what he’d packed in the sack after leaving his office and stopping at the florist. Slowly, he withdrew from her heavenly warmth. Cool air surrounded his erection, fanning the moist coating her elixir had left behind. Soon. Soon you’ll be back inside her and finally letting go. But first you have to show her how much you love her. “What…what are you doing? Don’t—please, come back to me.” The pleading disappointment clouding her voice gave him hope. She wanted him, no doubt about it. “Baby, there’s nothing in this world that can keep me from making love to you.” He lifted open the bag, pulled out the crystal vase and set it within reach on the nightstand. 29
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He’d asked the florist to tie a red ribbon around its neck but that would come into play later during the final stage of his plan. Daphne’s gaze followed his every move. “What—why did you bring a vase?” He chuckled and unable to resist, he pressed a tender kiss to her gawking mouth. “Patience, my love.” “But…” Her words trailed off as she watched him search for the first of many pairs of roses he’d placed inside the sack. There were lots of varying colors and combinations but he had a very important sequence to follow in order to get his message across. “Shh…” He sat up on the edge of the bed, finally locating the one he sought. His cock throbbed in protest but he ignored it and continued with his plan. “Just bear with me.” “Gunnar, I—” She started to rise but he gently pushed against her shoulder until her head settled back onto the pillow. “Did you know the color of roses have different meanings?” He took the first matching pair out and placed one of the single blooms in the vase. The other he dragged over her bruised lips. Confusion filled her eyes but he pressed on. “Burgundy. Do you know what roses of this shade mean?” She shook her head, inhaling when he dragged the flower down over her jaw and neck. Next he traced the crescent crease outlining the underside of each rounded breast. Gorgeous. She was so gorgeous. “It means beauty.” She hissed in a breath when he fluttered the petals over one nipple. It puckered, its rosy hue lighter in comparison to the dark flower. “Captivating beauty. You enchanted me from that first moment I met you here at the ranch after Ted hired you.” Tears glittered in her eyes. She arched her back, reaching for the rose with her breasts.
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Even though his loins ached and his balls felt near to bursting, he continued his seduction. He had a clear message of love and determination to make her see they were meant to be together. If this didn’t render her a clear understanding of how much he loved her and how he would get her back no matter how much she protested, he didn’t know what would. One by one, he plucked the petals and scattered them over her, around her. The deep shade looked like puddles of merlot wine against the tan of her skin. His mouth watered with the urge to slurp them up but instead he pulled in a deep breath. The sharp floral scent wafted to his nostrils, stronger with each piece he pulled off the flower. It mingled with her essence, that of warm woman and aroused desire. He saved the last petal and kissed it before rubbing it across her parted lips, down over her mounds. She whimpered. “Please, please hurry. Make love to me now.” Gunnar held his finger to her lips. “Shh, hang on, babe.” He watched the small knot in her throat shift upward when she swallowed. Her breathing increased in rate when he abraded the petal over one taut nipple and a beautiful shade of bewilderment and passion lit her eyes. Setting aside the stem, he dug in the bag for the next message, this one being two sets of entwined roses, each containing one yellow and one orange rose. As he did with the first, he placed the matching set in the vase while taking the other to make his point. His gaze swept her as he took the two roses and fluttered them under her jaw. Her hair was fanned on the pillow around her face and bare shoulders, lending her an angelic look. He remembered those first weeks after meeting her, the times he’d ridden with her on many of their scheduled camping guide trips with groups into the mountains. She knew nature well, both its beauty and its perils. Her genuine interest in his customers kept them coming back time after time and her bubbly zest for life had captivated him to the point of distraction.
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Then there was her compassion with his horses and with wildlife in need. He recalled how she’d cried when his horse Windrunner had to be put down after a nasty fall, and how she’d taken in more stray dogs and cats than he’d known what to do with. Such a loving, caring person, so giving and good at heart, yet puzzlingly enough, she’d suddenly transformed into someone quite the opposite shortly after their marriage. Well, he didn’t believe it for one minute. He was certain something out of her control had caused her odd behavior but for now, he was determined to win back her love. The rest, he was certain, would come naturally following the execution of his plan. Then and only then would he finally understand what had really happened between them. Forcing that volatile time period from his thoughts, he swirled the pair of roses below her nostrils. “Yellow and orange together, they signify hot-blooded thoughts. Do you understand, Daphne? Do you see where I’m going with this?” She inhaled the sharp scent and closed her eyes. “Mmm-hmm.” “This is my passion for you, the true color of it.” He trailed the pair of roses down between her breasts and circled her belly button. Goose pimples emerged on her satiny flesh. He watched as a lone tear trickled from the corner of her eye and soaked her temple. She had to love him still, he thought. She had to. Why else would she cry with such feeling, or react so eagerly to his touch? Gripping the pair of flowers at the base of their petals, he tore them off in one motion. Gunnar held his hand over her and sprinkled the yellow and orange petals across her breasts, her arms, her belly. She lifted her head. “Gunnar, this—this is very romantic, very thoughtful but I don’t understand what it has to do with—” He clamped a hand over her mouth and eased her back onto the pillow. “Please, please, you’ll see. Just lie back and enjoy.” She nodded but that vague urgency lingered in her gaze. He cupped her breast and skimmed his hand down over her narrow rib cage, stirring the petals. Reaching for his 32
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cock with his free hand, he stroked his erection, keeping himself hard for what was to come. He continued to masturbate while he moved his other hand lower across her hip to her moist mound. Her lips were swollen and glistening. Appetizing. He slid three fingers between her folds and sank them maddeningly slowly into her channel. She spread her legs wider and bucked upward. “Yes, oh yes.” “Tight, you’re so tight and wet,” he rasped, finger-fucking her with firm, deep penetrations. She slapped the bed and fisted the quilt in her hands. Her hips rose time and time again, meeting each of his thrusts. Her head thrashed from side to side. “Mmm, don’t stop, don’t stop. Keep—” He yanked his fingers from her sticky pussy. “No.” She panted and rolled her head toward him, her gorgeous face contorted with disappointment. Gunner slid the three fingers into his mouth and sucked the sweet honey from them. No one—no one—in this world could possibly taste as delicious as she did. “Remember, patience.” Apparently, he’d pushed her beyond her limit. She glided her hand down her abdomen and rubbed her wet cleft, locating the hardened bud. Her sigh signified relief yet her moans indicated she drove herself madder with need. She played with herself as he pulled out a pair of white roses and allowed her to maintain her arousal. One flower he placed in the vase at the bedside, the other he dragged up the inside of one thigh and fluttered over her drenching pussy. She drew up her knees and rocked her hips, reaching for the subtle stimulation. But he didn’t give her much time to enjoy the erotic dance. He again picked the petals off and scattered them around her, adding to the colorful tapestry that was Daphne. “Please please, no more. Look, I love the flowers, really I do,” she moaned, continuing to pleasure herself, rubbing fast and hard on her clitoris. The flare of her 33
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hips was a seductive dance that he was hard pressed to resist. “T-they’re beautiful and it’s such a sweet and romantic gesture but I need you. Now.” Amazed at his restraint, he ignored her plea and drew out the next pair of roses. “Pink,” he rasped, feeling a drop of pre-cum soak his tip when she started fucking herself with a pair of slim fingers. Again, he put the first bloom in the vase and scattered the petals of the second one around and over her glistening, luscious body. He panted as he spoke, tearing more petals from the bud and setting the thorned stem aside. “Its bright coloring asks the recipient to please believe. Daphne, I’m begging you to believe in me—in us.” She halted her movements and moist beads emerged in the corners of her eyes. “Oh honey…” “Wait, wait. Please, I’m not done yet. Just hear me out.” He experienced the same sexual urgency as she did but first he had more of his message to get across to her. Determined to do this right before the opportunity slipped from his grasp, he dug in the bag and found the two yellow blooms. Ignoring the tingling in his loins, his hand shook when he added one rose to the growing bouquet in the vase. He immediately removed the petals from the second blossom and dispersed the satiny remnants across her puckered nipples and gushing pussy. His hungry gaze swept the colorful picture she made, from blonde head to sexy toes. The whir of the air conditioning kicked off and in the distance, he heard the muffled whinny of horses at play, the ticktock of a clock in the hallway. That, along with the sounds of their lovemaking, was his life. He needed to succeed in this mission. Gunnar nodded and inhaled deeply to dispel the giddiness from his head. Stunning. She looked so stunning it took his breath away and made him euphoric. In a matter of minutes, she would be his once again.
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She held his stare with her own tormented one. Having pity on her, he finally spoke, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Yellow, it’s been said, stands for the promise of a new beginning.” Daphne let out a sob and sat up, throwing her arms around him. “Oh my God, you’re making this so hard for me.” He inhaled her, all of her, the sharp floral fragrance of the rose petals coating her flesh, the honeyed scent of her arousal, the essence of her shampoo bursting from the thickness of her hair as she shook her head vehemently. Her flowered bare breasts smashed against his chest making his nipples tighten into painful knots. He closed his eyes, at first holding her close then gathering all of his selfdiscipline, he held her away so he could look into her emotional gaze. An urgent need seized him. He had to make her understand and to hear her admit to the feelings he sensed were there. He framed her face with his hands, stunned to feel the sting of tears in his own eyes. “Daphne. Ah, baby, tell me you don’t love me.” He pressed a trembling kiss to her open mouth. “Tell me now and I swear I’ll leave forever. I won’t bother you ever again if you can just say it and mean it this time.” Droplets trailed down her cheeks and soaked his hands. “Y-you don’t understand, Y-you’ve got to get out of—” “No.” He let go of her and snatched up the bundle of stems, barely noticing the prick of thorns. He grasped a handful of leaves, ripped them from the stems and thrust the greenery in her face. “See these? The leaves of roses. Do you know what they mean?” She shook her head, weeping softly, her eyes glittering as green as the very leaves he confronted her with. “Hope.” Gunnar clutched the foliage in his fist. “They mean hope. I know there’s hope for us, whether you choose to believe it or not.” “And these.” He went on before she could protest, tossing the stems aside to dig out the purple blooms. Holding them up for her to see, he added with vehemence, 35
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“Purple. Love at first sight. Just what I felt for you the very first moment I laid eyes on you riding bareback on one of my horses.” She dropped her head and buried her face in her hands, the sniffles turning to wailing cries. “Red?” He located the crimson ones and held them up. His voice now took on a tone of desperation. “Can you take a guess what red roses stand for? Huh? Can you?” Silence crackled between them. Her sobs died out and she finally lifted her head and whispered. “Love…” “Yes, crimson love. Deep love.” Glee slammed through his bloodstream. She was getting it and from the look of adoration in her eyes, he knew a moment of victory. His hands shook as he opened her curled fingers and laid the pair of red roses across her palm. Next he withdrew yet another red one, only this one was entwined with a stark white one. “And red and white given together to a loved one means unity. Do you hear me, Daphne? It means togetherness.” He thrust the red and white roses at her. She turned and slid the two red ones into the vase before taking the red and white pair from him. Closing her eyes, she held them to her nose and inhaled. “Mmm, love and togetherness smells glorious.” She locked her red-rimmed gaze on his and he was certain his heart stopped. “Thank you, Gunnar. This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me.” “Well you can bet it won’t be the last.” He carefully pulled the blooms from her hand and laid them on the far pillow before pressing her back into the mattress. Gunnar stretched out over the top of her and wedged his hips between her thighs, forcing her legs to spread wide for him. He could feel her wet heat coating the tip of his cock and knew a single moment of male madness. “I want us to make love together here on our bed of hope and passion and love. I want to unite with you once and for all.” 36
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“Yes, now. Before I implode.” She pulled him down and covered his mouth with hers. He could taste the salt of her tears, could hear the rush of desire as it thrummed through his bloodstream and burst in his head. His heart kicked into overdrive when she raked her fingers down his back and shifted her hips so that the head of his shaft slipped inside her slick vagina. She purred into the kiss, arching up to meet him. Intoxicated by her passion and the perfume of roses, he let go of his restraint and pushed himself into the depths of her womanhood. He tore his mouth from hers, holding his breath in an effort to regain control. For one long moment he held himself motionless, soaring on the animalistic blast of need seizing his groin. Fire. Tight. So damn wet. His thoughts came to him in fragments of elation. Daphne whimpered, clinging, her curves molding to him. She shifted her body in an irresistible dance of invitation to urge him into motion. Gunnar started to move inside her, first slowly, then faster, faster still. She bowed upward, meeting his every thrust. The only noises were those of their moans and sighs and her sopping-wet cunt as he pounded her time and time again. Her welcoming flesh surrounded him. The scent of her arousal and the headiness of the roses filled his lungs. Somewhere in all the flurry, he found her lips, wet and hungry with need. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and dragged it over his teeth, sparring with him, circling and sucking his tongue deep into her mouth. She was so hot, so willing and ready, it stunned him. This wasn’t the same woman he’d left months ago. This was the one he’d first met, the passionate one he’d fallen deeply in love with. The one whose husky, gleeful laugh could be heard reverberating across the valley as she raced against him riding bareback on one of his mares. He held that alluring vision in his mind while he drank of her mouth, letting her taste her own creamy flavor in his kiss. Gunnar just couldn’t get enough of her. He’d let his pride hold him back far too long before finally finding the internet ad and using it as 37
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an excuse to see her. No more. He was here now and nothing short of a bullet in his heart could drag him away. He buried himself deeper, his thrusts becoming so frantic the force drove her across the mattress inch by glorious inch, stirring up the rose petals and mussing the blankets. One hand moved lower, clutching her sweet round ass, delving into that damp valley, moving his fingertip in quick little faint swirls over the tight ring of her anus. Daphne let out a strangled cry and he filled his other palm with the tender globe of one breast. She responded eagerly, curving into him with more intensity, more need, as he pinched and rolled the taut bud between his fingers. He buried his face in the hollow of her smooth neck and she turned her head away from him, arching, giving him full access to the silky column. Inhaling the wild fragrance of animal arousal, he dragged his lips across her perspiring flesh and squeezed her buttocks. Rocking into her again, this time gradually increasing the tempo, the passion rose higher, almost unbearable in its intensity. He could feel his shaft filling with more blood, getting rock-hard and tingly. Gunnar clutched her body to his and dragged himself up until he knelt on the bed with her body wrapped around his. She gasped at the sudden move and clung to him. “I’m so close, so close,” she rasped. “I’m going to…to come any second now.” “You and me both, babe.” He growled it out, claiming her mouth in a voracious kiss. Gunnar wrapped his arms around her waist and bounced her. The dampness of her labia slid up and down his cock, stroking him with each plunge. Her inner juices immersed the full length of him with liquid fire each time she forced herself down on him. Their perspiring skin melded together, sliding, slick. He could feel her large breasts jiggling between them even as he held them captive against his chest. Every now and then, her erect nipples would abrade over his and shoot flames of ecstasy straight to his cock.
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Closing his eyes, it seemed he could imagine skimming a valley of sorts, while the rushing sensation of the pinnacle beckoned him just through the beautiful pass ahead. He nibbled at her ear and she whimpered with pleasure, scraping her nails down his back. The stinging bliss of it sent shivers up his spine and forced him closer to the mountaintop. She planted her feet on the mattress, wrapped her arms around his neck and rose up, slamming her sweet hot passage into him time and time again. Her screams echoed against the log-framed walls of the room. Each plummet she took drove him further into the insanity that was Daphne. God, could he love her any more than he did at this obsessive, incredible moment? He would see about that… “Yes, yes,” she whispered, pistoning her hips in tempo with his. Gunnar stilled her movements and gazed into her beautiful face. He suppressed the urge to devour her mouth and instead thought of the burning question he would ask her very soon. Her hair—God, she was so fucking hot—was a wild mass of disarray spilling all around her naked shoulders. Her eyelids fluttered open. The powerful emerald of them glittered with a mixture of lust and confusion. She stared back at him expectantly waiting for him to speak. “What? What’s wrong?” Her voice was so damn alluring its sexual edge nearly carried him to the peak. He held her face in his hands marveling at the smoothness of her skin. A long moment ticked by where he knelt there on the bed making love to her with his gaze. He knew this was a pivotal point in rectifying things and his heart galloped in his chest with the words of affection and the secret he was about to reveal to her. “I…I love you, Daphne. I’ve never stopped.” He swallowed a lump of sudden fear. “Will you…will you marry me again?” Her pretty forehead furrowed, the dark blonde eyebrows inverting. He watched as renewed tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. “Ah, Gunnar… Oh God, I need you and want you so bad. I do—really, I do. But please, please not now.” She tightened one 39
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arm around his neck and pressed a palm against his mouth. “Don’t talk. Don’t burst my selfish fantasy bubble. Just make love to me. Make me come like never before.” It wasn’t exactly the words he’d hoped to hear but at least she wasn’t yanking her curvy body from his and fleeing downstairs like she used to do. He wasn’t a fool. He wouldn’t let this opportunity pass him by. Hugging her close, he leaned over and picked up the pair of red and white twined roses he’d left lying on the pillow. “I told you that together, they signified unity. But so does something else.” He held the flowers between them. “Go ahead, look inside the red one.” Her brow did that furrow of confusion he always thought so adorable. “What?” “Look down inside the center of the red rose.” Her gaze flickered up to his, back down to the rose. “Inside it?” Gunnar groaned. “Yes and hurry. I want you to…to have it before I come inside you.” Slowly, she slid a hand down across his shoulder and chest. Her fingers trembled as she reached out and pushed the petals down. When her sight found the treasure, she gasped and her stare shot back up to his. “What…” “It’s a new one for a new start. Marry me, Daphne. Please marry me again, before I lose my mind with missing you.” She clamped a palm over her mouth and tears of what he hoped were joy slid down her cheeks. “Oh Gunnar.” “Hold on tight,” he ordered and when he was assured she wouldn’t slip from his grasp, he dug the ring out from the center of the rose and pulled her hand from her face. He slid the two-carat diamond ring onto her finger and kissed her jaw, her parted lips, the expanse of her silky neck. “I—” She started to speak but he halted her words. “No. Don’t say a thing yet. Just make love with me. Let me love you, baby.”
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He buried his face in the hollow of her neck and sucked her soft, sweet flesh into his mouth. She groaned on a sob, tipping her head back in offering. “Yeah, oh yeah,” she whispered, riding him harder, faster. “Just like that.” “Delicious, so damn sexy…” Sweat trickled down his back and glazed his hairline. He gripped her firm ass and fell forward to the rumpled bed, gathering her close. Resuming with a short, brusque tempo, he drove into her like a madman. Her soaking wetness coated his penis while her womanly heat fired his blood. She moaned, frantically clutching at him and cried out, “Oh God, oh yes, I’m going to—” And her high-pitched release of ecstasy filled his soul. She sang her pleasure, twitching beneath him, sobbing as her canal contracted around his cock and bathed his erection with a fresh flood of her hot cum. For Gunnar, it took no more than three additional strokes and the summit drew nearer. His balls tightened in preparation for the eruption. He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a gasp, holding his breath as he soared above the apex of the most intense bliss he could ever envision. The head of his rod felt as if it were on fire as his sac forced out his seed, spilling hot jism into her womb. Gradually, the pleasure ebbed, leaving behind a sated sensation that made him long to curl up with her and sleep all afternoon. He slowly withdrew from her warm cocoon and the stiffening of her body didn’t go unnoticed. “Mmm, what’s wrong?” he whispered in her ear, dragging her body to his so they lay spoon-fashion. He reached around and filled his palm with one of her breasts, lazily kneading its bulk and playing with the stiff nipple. “You have to go.” Her voice was hard and warning sirens went off in his head when the tone matched that of the crazed Daphne who had divorced him. “I told you I’m not going anywhere. This is my home—our home.”
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She scrambled from the bed so swiftly he’d have missed it if he’d blinked. “No.” She shoved a lock of hair from her face and he caught the twinkle of the diamond on her finger. She wasn’t taking it off. That was a start. “You can’t stay,” she insisted, her voice panicked. “You have to leave—now.” He propped himself up and studied her gorgeous curves, the smooth-shaved pussy all pink, slick and engorged and the full luscious breasts a man could dine on for days. But it looked as if the party was over. Gunnar didn’t care if she ran for her weapon and held him at gunpoint, he wasn’t budging. “Nope. Not happening.” “No.” She moaned the single word out and it reminded him of a wounded bobcat crying for help in the mountains. Stabbing her hands through her hair, she gripped her head, her eyes shimmering with panic. “Y-you can’t do this. You have to get the hell out of here. Please…please just trust me.” Gunnar rolled over onto his back and laced his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling and drawled, “Call the cops, hold me at gunpoint, do what you have to do. But I assure you I’m here legally and there’s not a thing you can do about it. Besides, you just accepted my ring.” She held up her hand and stared agog at the ring, as if she didn’t know how it had gotten there. “No, I-I can’t. And I-I don’t know what you mean by legally.” He dragged himself out of bed and stood directly in front of her. She was so near, he could feel the heat emanating from her damp skin. “As far as the ring goes, you can and you already did. As far as I go, well, I’m the highest bidder. Thomas Lord at your service,” he replied with a mocking bow. “New owner of the ranch…and legal fiancé to…you.”
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Chapter Four “What?” Daphne swayed, planting a palm on the nightstand. Her stomach lurched. The ring felt hot and heavy around her finger and things were happening so fast, she couldn’t think or process any of it. No, no, no… He returned to the bed. Lying back like a gloating god, he beamed up at her. “Yeah, lucky for me word of your grand internet auction got back to me. So I put in a very generous bid and, voila. You accepted in record time—legally, I might add. So here I am back home again with my lovely wife—or rather, wife-to-be.” He added a sardonic grin to that while lounging on her bed of rose petals looking so damn cocky and handsome she longed to pound her clenched fists on his firm, sculpted chest. Or better yet, she’d rather tangle her fingers in that thick dark hair and shake his stupid brain silly. At the same time, Daphne didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically, sob with abandon or chew his nice, firm ass out until he stormed out of her home again for good. Her heart raced, thinking of his SUV parked outside. All the email threats scrolled through her head. Undecided on just how to react, she bit her lip, staring down at him for a full minute. His biceps flexed as he held his hands clasped behind his head and the feral look in his dark eyes only added to the confusion and worry settling in her heart. She slid her gaze down the length of his fit body to his half-hard erection coated like a long john donut with her own glaze. And that totally pissed her off. He’d tricked her! He’d knocked on her door, marched in and helped himself to a beer and seduced her into a mindless nitwit’s state of sexual surrender.
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He’d used the romance of roses and a stunning ring to woo her, the cad. He’d done it all knowing his new position yet very aware she hadn’t a clue what he’d just trapped her into. Thomas Lord, my ass. “You son of a bitch.” She seethed, her body shuddering with a bombardment of emotions—anger, panic, irritation, sadness, uncertainty and especially love. Crimson love. Deep love, he’d called it. The room felt hot, so hot and sweltering and the walls started to spin. Oh God, was that the bell tone of her email downloading to her computer in the next room? No, no, no, no, no… She clutched the nightstand with both hands and bent, gasping for air. Goddamn it, Daphne, calm down. Take a deep breath. Now, get him out of here now before things get deadly. “Wait one goddamn minute.” He swung his corded legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet. His nostrils flared and the muscle along the right side of his jaw ticked, while his hands curled into fists at his sides. Every tendon and sinewy muscle in his body flexed. She could almost smell the acrid odor of his barely controlled ire, could practically feel the tension crackle in the space between them. “So maybe I’m not the Thomas Lord you’d hoped for but only minutes ago, I wasn’t a son of a bitch. I was evidently good enough to share your bed—make that our bed.” The gasp tore from her lungs. “Hoped for? What an awful thing to say.” “What’s so awful about loving you, Daphne? Huh? Answer me that.” When she didn’t reply and started to turn away, he spun her toward him and clamped his hands around her wrists. With a yank, her arms were held prisoner between their perspiring, naked bodies. Her flesh suddenly melded to his and the bulk of his manhood pressed into her belly, making her all too aware of his prowess.
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He’d never used this tactic with her before, wielding her own sexual vulnerabilities as a tool to demand answers while nude, in the bedroom and in such intimate proximity. Their stark nakedness seemed to strip her of the shield of fear she’d hidden behind. It shouted at her, making her see that rather than protect him, she’d wronged him by not informing him of the threats. Her motive had been to safeguard him but why hadn’t she understood before now they were in this together, that he’d had as much of a right to know what was happening to them—and to do something about it— as she had? “You kicked me out of our home and divorced me without so much as one word of explanation and now you’ve gone and sold yourself and our ranch on the internet. Goddamn it, what’s going on here, Daph?” “I…” He shook her gently. “I don’t believe for one minute you divorced me because you lost your mind. Once and for all, you tell me now, or by golly I-I’ll turn right around and sell this place off to Ben.” She blinked at mention of his lawyer brother, or rather friend. They weren’t blood brothers but foster brothers who’d grown up being shuffled through the social services system together. “Ben?” “Yes, Reynard, Benjamin Reynard. You know, my best friend?” “Even though I rarely spoke to him, I was married to you long enough to know who Benjamin is. But I’m asking, why would you sell it to him?” “Because he wants this place. He’d kill to have it. Until the judge awarded it to you in the divorce, he’d been constantly hounding me to sell it to him.” He’d kill to have it. Something clicked deep inside her brain. “H-he had?” “Yeah, he was obsessed with it. But that’s not the point here.” He sighed, apparently annoyed the topic had gone in another direction. “Tell me what’s—”
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“Why?” Her pulse skipped a beat. “Why what?” “Why was he so obsessed with the ranch?” He lifted both burly shoulders in unison. “It’s worth a fortune, for one thing. He’d had big plans to develop the land into condos and subdivisions. It had been in foreclosure before I bought it, so he’d assumed he could snatch it up for next to nothing. He tried to low-ball a bid at the same time I put in a generous offer to the bank. He got bumped by me and never forgot it.” “B-but there’s all kinds of beautiful land for sale in the Timber Lodge area.” “Like I said, the ranch was in foreclosure, so investment-wise, this was by far the most attractive property in all of Wyoming. Actually, it was a steal—I got it for a tenth of its retail value. Land on the regular market is too expensive for him and sellers all want way more than he can afford. Ben isn’t good with money, with saving.” He paused and unexpectedly kissed the ring on her finger then rubbed his thumbs over her wrists. “But I am. And you’re worth every penny I spent to bid on you.” It seemed her soul did a joyous dance at his words combined with the impulsive, romantic gesture. If it weren’t for the import of his words, she’d allow the tension to drain from her body. But he didn’t know the meaning of his own words, or the instinct that started to take root in Daphne’s gut. “Yes, yes, I do remember now.” With regret, she wiggled her arms free and raced to the bathroom. She quickly washed up and then headed to the closet. “Benjamin wouldn’t happen to have been your beneficiary before we married, would he?” “Sure, of course he was. He’s the only thing even close to family I have. Besides you.” The wheels in her mind turned and her hands trembled as she rummaged through drawers. “And you made me your beneficiary after we married?” “Yes—until you divorced me.” He blew out a breath. “Daphne?”
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She glanced over her shoulder. “What?” “What the hell are you doing?” He was standing right behind her, still nude. God help her, he looked so good, so manly and strong. She loved this new thing between them, communicating while naked. It was refreshing and added cohesion to their relationship—not to mention giving her the urge to jump him. But there was something else to take care of first, something that just might be the answer to their prayers. She ignored his question and dug some more, thinking of the break-ins and the poisonings. “Did Benjamin have a key to the house?” “Why do you—” “Did he?” She located a tank top, tossed it aside and yanked open her underwear drawer. “Well yes, at one time but—” “Aha.” She chose a pink lacy thong and slammed the drawer shut. “What do you mean, ‘aha’?” His eyebrows arched when his gaze locked on the lacy undergarment. Hands on hips, he demanded, “And for the last time, I demand to know what you’re doing.” Daphne clutched the clothing she’d gathered. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to get dressed.” Propping a shoulder against the closet doorjamb, he drawled, “Mmm and you look good, real good. No need to get dressed so quickly, not even with that sexy little strappy thing. Naked’ll do just fine…” She raised a finger. “Hold that thought. For now, it’s time to go.” “As my wife, I’m telling you right now you’re not going anywhere until we straighten this whole damn mess out. You know, the one where you suddenly divorced me without an explanation?”
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“You speak of divorce and my being your wife in the same breath. Makes no sense. Anyway, I’m not your wife, I’m your fiancée—for now.” She held up the engagement ring and wiggled her finger at him. God, it felt good to have his ring back on her finger! Stepping into the thong, she followed it with a short jean skirt. Braless, she drew the powder-pink tank top over her head and finally, she slid her feet into flip-flops. “The ambiguity of wife verses divorcée was none of my doing, babe. And you don’t know how elated I am to hear you say that word fiancée and to see my ring circling your finger.” A sparkle lit his dark eyes as he swept her with a heated look. “So this means you’re not going to fight the BidWars contract, right?” “No, I’m not. Now sorry to cut this exciting topic short but we have to go. Only this time, we’re in it together.” She brushed by him, instantly tempted by the warmth and mass of his beautiful body. Swiping a clip off her dresser, she scooped back her unruly, sex-rumpled hair and secured it. “However…first I’ve got some email notes and an email address I want you to take a look at. Then I’m going to visit someone—and you’re going with me.”
***** Benjamin Reynard’s office wasn’t exactly what Daphne would expect of a lawyer. Though it was neat and clean, it didn’t boast of wealth as she might expect of an attorney. In the modest reception area, she and Gunnar breezed past the secretary, who at first blurted out a halting word. Until she saw it was Gunnar barging right into Benjamin’s office. Gunnar shoved the door open and stepped across the threshold. Ben glanced up from his desk, wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his straight nose. He was a handsome man with a thick head of brown hair and a strong jaw that no doubt gave him distinction and power in the courtroom. Daphne had barely spoken two words to him during the tumultuous engagement to Gunnar and their short
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history as man and wife. Now was no different. After presenting the emails and all the evidence to Gunnar, it was apparent he would be handling this. “Sorry, sir.” The woman poked her sleek brunette head in behind them. “They were by me before I realized it. Which should I do, call security or bring some coffee in?” “Neither will be necessary, Millie,” he murmured, dropping his spectacles on the desktop. “But thank you.” Millie nodded and slipped from the room, quietly closing the door behind her. “Gun, what’s up with…” Ben’s words trailed off when his gaze settled on Daphne, her pistol held far enough out of her purse to not mistake what it was. Gunnar strode forward and slapped the stack of copied emails on top of Ben’s legal paperwork. “That’s what, you son of a bitch.” Daphne sidled up next to Gunnar and looked down into Ben’s sapphire blue eyes. There didn’t seem to be any guilt hiding in their surprised depths. Hmm, he was quite the actor, she mused. His stare bounced back and forth between Daphne—and her weapon—and Gunnar before dropping to the documents. “What? What’s this?” “As if you didn’t know, it’s copies of threatening emails sent anonymously to Daphne. Emails that terrorized her into thinking that if she didn’t divorce me—and if she said a word to anyone—I’d be killed.” “What?” Ben scrambled to his feet, his chair slamming against the bookcases lining the wall behind his desk. Daphne had to hand it to him. He was an excellent performer. She almost believed his astonishment. Almost. “You heard me. They—you—blackmailed her into divorcing me, then recently forced her to sell the ranch. Lucky for me, she foolishly put it up for sale on the internet and I got word of it soon enough to bid on it.”
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“Foolishly?” Daphne shrieked. “It was the fastest way I could think of to sell and get the hell out of here. I’d done everything I was told and you were safe and alive. It was time to leave and sever any advantage this creep had over me, otherwise, it would just go on and on and on.” “Uh Gunnar, I don’t know what the hell either one of you are talking about.” Very carefully, Gunnar set his palms on the desk and leaned forward, his narrowed gaze drilling into his best friend. “Don’t lie to me, Benjamin.” “I’m not lying!” Gunnar raked a hand through his hair leaving it standing on end. “Look, if you’re saying someone’s been blackmailing Daphne, we need to notify the cops. Something she should have done in the first place.” “You ordered me not to! You watched us both and knew our every move. You threatened me, insisting if I breathed a word to anyone, you’d kill Gunnar before the police could even finish questioning me.” She shivered. “You sent me a poisonous snake in the mail!” “It wasn’t me,” Ben snapped, facing her with a loathing look. “And I’d like to know why the fuck you seem to think so.” Gunnar snatched up the papers and thrust them at Benjamin. “These. A familiar email address from this office.” “No…” “Yes.” Benjamin finally reached for the documents and shoved on his glasses. He perused them, his eyes getting wider and wider with each page he studied. “This…what makes you think this is one of my addresses?” “Remember the time my server went down? I had some time-sensitive real estate contract attachments to send, so I came over here to your office to use your computer in the back office—you know, the one you routinely handle personal business on?”
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Ben’s brow furrowed. “Yes, I recall that day. But I didn’t give you access to my mail…or anyone else’s.” “No, you didn’t. But it seemed someone—who I can only assume to be you since this is your office and you do use that computer a lot—had recently been using that very terminal and had left themself logged in. I remember because a very suggestive instant message came over—which I ignored. But the logged-in name at the top of the recipient’s IM box was this one.” “Well, that’s my screen name, I’ll admit, but I swear I didn’t send these emails.” This was ridiculous. She wasn’t going to let Gunnar get sucked into Ben’s lies. No more. Daphne had had it. This asshole wasn’t going to get out of this after all they’d been through. “Listen, you prick, I’m not taking this crap anymore. You’ve been found out. Proof’s in the pudding—or paper in this case.” “Understood. But I swear on my life, I did not send you these emails.” “Someone from this office did then.” “I can’t—” “You—oh! Don’t you even try to get out of this,” Daphne hissed, kicking the desk. God, how she hated the sting of tears in her eyes. “Do you know how much you frightened me? Do you realize how much agony I went through—we both went through—with the divorce? I love him, goddamn it, and you forced me to hurt him without an explanation. You made me make him leave for good. You threatened to kill your best friend, the man who’s been like a brother to you!” “I. Did. Not.” Daphne wasn’t done yet. Through the blur of tears and the ache in her throat, she sobbed, “You liar. I despise you, you…you slimy snake in the grass.” There, that felt slightly better.
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Gunnar wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss her temple. “Shh, babe, shh. It’s okay now, it’s okay. We’re going to get to the bottom of this before we leave this office today.” He hugged her tightly and glanced up at Ben. She caught a hint of soap mixed with her own sexual fragrance and something inside her finally lit up all warm and secure. Why hadn’t she just told him all those months ago? It would have been just like this. They would have joined forces and nixed this shit from the start. No, no, she couldn’t think of that anymore. No more rehashing it. But he was right. Even if Ben didn’t own up to this, they would get it all figured out and this nightmare would be over once and for all. They could finally be a normal married couple. Gunnar’s voice shifted from soothing to low and ominous. “You say you didn’t send them, then who did?” Ben shot Gunnar a level stare but didn’t say a word. “Okay, let me put it a different way. You recognize the email address, right?” Ben closed his eyes and dropped back into his seat. “Yes, I told you it’s one of my many emails.” Gunnar reached across the desk and fisted Ben’s pristine white shirt and tie in his hand. He yanked until Ben leaned forward at an awkward angle over the top of his paperwork. “It’s your email but you say you didn’t send the notes. Goddamn you, then who the fuck did?” Ben’s nostrils flared. Anger glittered in his eyes. “I’m guessing it was the only other person who has my passwords.” “Who?” Ben held his tongue for a good long minute. Finally, he blurted out, “Chloe.” “Your paralegal assistant?” Daphne asked. “Yes and my…”
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“His wife.” Gunnar supplied with sarcasm. “And if I recall correctly, he married her right around the time I left you, Daphne.” “Hmm.” Ben swiped at Gunnar’s hand causing him to release his death grip. “But I never knew—” “Get her in here.” Gunnar pounded a fist on the desk, straightening to his full ominous height. “Now.” “Are you going to let your wife take the rap for this?” Daphne asked incredulously. Ben ground his teeth together. “No, not necessarily. But I know I didn’t do this.” His jaw clenched. He locked stares with Gunnar. “By the way, thanks for your vote of confidence…brother.” “I’m sorry but on this one, you’re going to have to prove me wrong before I cast my vote.” Ben smiled thinly but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?” “Nowadays, I go by ‘In sickness and in health, until death do us part’, only no one’s going to be dying anymore.” Gunnar threaded his fingers in Daphne’s, held their joined hands up and shook it as one fist. The ring glittered under the florescent lighting. “Even though someone undid our marriage, this is my wife and I’m not giving anyone— including you—the benefit of the doubt until I’ve got a confession.” Ben scrubbed his face, leaning forward to press the speaker button on his phone system. “Millie?” “Yes sir?” “Buzz Chloe, would you? Tell her I’d like to see her in my office.” There was a slight pause then Millie replied, “Sure, right away.”
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They didn’t have long to wait. Outside the closed office door, heels clicked on hardwood and briskly approached. The knob turned and the door opened with enthusiasm. “Heya, handsome, what’s up?” Chloe leaned into Benjamin’s office, her red-painted mouth spread in a wide, come-hither grin. But it faded as soon as she laid eyes on Daphne and Gunnar. She was a gorgeous creature, tall and model-thin with legs a mile long. She wore black stilettos, a tailored navy business suit and a white ruffled blouse unbuttoned low enough in front to reveal a deep cleavage. There wasn’t a wrinkle in her clothing or a bleach-blonde tendril out of position. It seemed the fashionable twist at the back of her head had been glued in place and jewelry sparkled on every finger, ear, toe and ankle. Chloe lifted perfectly waxed dark eyebrows over amber-gold eyes framed with black liner. The playful, sex-edged look that had at first twinkled in her gaze turned to a glitter of hatred that prickled the hairs on the back of Daphne’s neck. “So, Millie says you asked to see me.” “Come on in and shut the door.” “Sure.” She did just that but she didn’t remove her hand from the doorknob. “What’s up?” He simply held out the stack of papers. She blinked. “What?” “Take them.” Ben shook the documents. “Take a long hard look.” Chloe wiped her palms on her skirt and walked unhurriedly up to Benjamin, her eyes never leaving his. Her hand shook as she reached for the papers. Gradually, she broke the stare and dropped her gaze to the top sheet. Daphne heard Chloe swallow audibly. Without a word, Chloe spun on her spiked heels and darted toward the door. She clutched the documents in her hand.
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“Chloe, what are you—” “Uh-uh-uh.” Gunnar stepped out, blocking her exit. “Just where do you think you’re going?” “Get out of my way,” she snarled, her pretty eyes taking on the gleam of the devil. It was all the admission of guilt Daphne needed. But Chloe’s verbal confession would be even better. “Why’d you do this to me? Why?” Daphne demanded. Chloe glared at her. “You bitch. You had it all.” She jutted her chin toward Gunnar. “The richer husband, the ranch and all that land. But my Benny deserved it, not you. He was in line to inherit all of Gunnar’s riches—until you came along. Before you wheedled your way into Gunnar’s life, Benny had bid on the foreclosed ranch and he got bumped—by his own fucking best friend, mind you. Okay, so fine, I can deal with that. But then you married Gunnar and stole it all away. Not fair. No one wants or deserves that ranch more than us.” “Chloe, my God, you really did this? You threatened to kill a man I consider my brother, you terrorized Daphne and then you even forced her to sell the ranch?” Chloe turned back and raced across the room. The look in her eyes shifted from devilish to the sparkle of pure, unforgiving evil. With a low growl, she threw herself at Benjamin but he only looked down at her with stunned pity, his arms held wide. “It was going to be yours—ours. Please, Benny,” she begged, gripping his shirt. “For once, be a real man. You have a gun in your desk. Get it out, for God’s sake. We can get rid of them—that ranch has endless rich acreage. Damn you, don’t let these assholes take what should be ours!” Daphne saw what could have been a single drop of moisture in the corner of one of Ben’s eyes. But he didn’t succumb to his churning emotions, or to his wife’s ranting temptation. Instead, he picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1.
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Chapter Five “I can’t wait any longer. Let’s do it now.” Gunnar pulled the SUV up to the quaint little chapel and shoved the gearshift into park. Daphne stared at the whitewashed little structure boasting, “Big Horn Country Church, Est. 1867.” It sat perched on a ridge at the base of a plunging mountainside, a wildflower-lined picket fence surrounding it. The orange glow of the evening sun slanted through the valley and bathed it with an ethereal glow. Her heart fluttered when Gunnar’s intent finally sank in. “You want to marry me? Now?” “Honey, I wanted to marry you as soon as you divorced me.” He pressed both seatbelt release buttons and climbed from the vehicle. Her gaze followed him as he sauntered around the hood of the car and opened her door. He held out his hand to her and jerked his head toward the church. “The reverend’s waiting.” “He’s waiting? For us?” “Yeah, I called him and asked him to meet us here. To marry us.” He wore his cowboy hat and from beneath its shadow, he looked down at her with those penetrating dark eyes. Her belly turned to hot mush. “Y-you did?” At her choked-up response, he knelt in the space of the open door. The SUV sat high off the ground, so it caused him to have to look up at her as one might do during a proposal. His voice was a gentle, deep tone that made her shiver with anticipation. “Yes, I did.”
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She reached down and caressed his stubbled jaw, her emotions nearly choking her to death. “You did this—for me?” “No, I did this for us.” He skimmed a hand up her calf, across her knee. She hitched in a burst of air when he moved higher, sliding his fingers up her inner thigh and under the crotch of her thong. The flame ignited, instantly blazing like a match struck across flint. He traced the curve of one lip, then the other. Daphne’s eyes rolled back in her head. “This is kind of sacrilegious, don’t you think?” she whispered, trying to catch her breath when he brushed her clit. “Touching me like that right here in front of a church.” Gunnar found her damp cleft and slowly slid his finger into her channel. “The minister wants nothing more than for us to love each other.” He pulled out and circled her labia before zoning in on her throbbing knot. Daphne gasped and nearly came up off the seat. “Ah…” Wanton desire flooded her womb. There was something very naughty and exciting about being seduced—much as she hated to admit it—outside and right in front of a church. She needed to hold onto something or she feared she’d slide right off the seat. When she reached for him, he stood and ducked his head into the vehicle, his finger increasing the magic. His mouth grazed hers, back and forth in a teasing kiss. “Marry me now,” he rasped against her mouth. “Just like this, in your sexy little skirt and skimpy top with no bra.” “I had the big wedding already.” She reached up and threaded her fingers in his hair, drawing him closer. “This time, I don’t care what I’m wearing.” He removed his hand and unfulfilled lust thrummed in protest in her loins. “Mmm, too bad you can’t stand at the altar naked,” he chuckled. Daphne grinned. “Too bad you can’t just make love to me right here and now.” She collapsed against the seat and tried to catch her breath. The evening breeze was starting to cool down as it always did in early summer in Wyoming. The scent of the
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wildflowers along the church’s fence wafted in on the gentle wind. She listened as a whippoorwill cooed off in the distance, calling to its mate. But she already had her mate and the threats and dangers that had kept them apart no longer existed. Her gaze took in the serenity of the countryside and mountains surrounding the church. Their first time around had been in a large church in town. While it had been a gorgeous structure, it didn’t have the romance and spontaneity he offered her at this place. What more could she ask for? She wanted nothing more than to have him back in her life forever. Yes, this colorful, peaceful place would mark their true beginning. “You can bet the first thing we’re going to do,” he assured her, opening the rear door behind her, “is make love.” “Okay, I’ll marry you right now in this cute little church, as long as you don’t break that promise.” She started to climb from the vehicle but he was there blocking her way. He held the multi-colored bouquet of roses out to her. She recalled him snatching up the vase as they’d raced from the bedroom earlier that afternoon. At the time the matter of cornering Ben had been foremost in her mind, so she’d forgotten he’d taken it and laid it in the back seat. “Every bride needs a bouquet.” He pulled a large white handkerchief out of his pocket. “Here, hold the flowers while I wrap them.” Daphne was stunned into speechlessness. He had always been a loving man to her but all this romance and seduction, it was enough to make her cry. And she did. While she carefully held the barbed stems together, he wrapped the cloth around them. “To protect you from the thorns,” he said, holding her gaze to emphasize his underlying meaning. “You protected me and I can never thank you enough for that. But babe, I’m going to do the protecting from now on.” She fanned her tearstained face as if to cool her hot cheeks. “Damn you, you’re going to cause my mascara to run.” He smiled with a twinkle of adoration in his eyes. “You’ll always be beautiful to me, even if you do look like a raccoon.” 58
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“Okay, so let’s do it.” She swung her legs out and started to stand. “Let’s get married.” “Wait.” He put a firm hand on her knee. “One more thing.” He walked around the open rear door and returned with a long red ribbon. “What…” Kneeling before her, he wrapped the ribbon around the top of the handkerchief inches below the bulbs of the roses. “Remember what red meant?” Her pulse pounded but she could swear her heart stopped. “Love.” He nodded and tied the ribbon into a tight bow. “Our wedding bands in my pocket, they signify our love and unity, but when you hold this bouquet before you while I pledge my undying love to you at the altar, I want you to remember something.” Daphne had never loved the feel of wet tears streaming down her face before now. There was something cleansing and powerful about it. He continued to squat in the space of the open door, so she leaned down, cupped his jaw and kissed his warm mouth. “Anything for you, Gunnar. Anything.” He pulled back. His voice hitched when he choked out, “I want you always to remember this bouquet. Don’t forget that this red ribbon is a sign of my love for you. And the way it’s binding all the others together? That’s like my love for you—it will always hold us together. These shades of our passion and love for each other,” he added, brushing a finger over all the blossoms, “no one is going to untie that bow ever again. Do you hear me?” She dropped the bouquet on the floorboards and launched herself into his arms, knocking him backward. He fell to the ground, his Stetson tumbling off and rolling under a nearby bush. Stretched out on top of his wide chest as she was, she could feel the mass of his manhood as it nestled against her tingling pussy. Daphne giggled, “Oh I hear you all right. And I hope the whole world—including the minister—sees my love for you.”
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“I take it this is a yes.” His beaming smile took her breath away. “Oh yeah.” She captured his mouth with hers, hoping the whole universe could see their passion.
***** Gunnar made an animal noise as he pushed her tight little jean skirt up. “Mmm, you’re so hot.” “Make love to me now, just like this.” Daphne glanced over her shoulder and he saw the unbridled passion glowing in her eyes. It glistened just like her wet, swollen lips parted only by the thin strip of thong. His mouth watered. With their tent pitched and the campfire blazing behind them, he had her bent over a fallen tree baring her ass for him. Ah yes, there was a God, he thought, watching her slim arms curl over the rough bark, holding tightly as he inspected her round rear. It seemed the fallen tree had split high enough so she could remain half-standing, almost as if nature had intended it as their bed on their wedding night. A sudden twinge of guilt nagged at him. After the cops had arrived, he’d hated to leave Ben. But his friend had been so distraught and disbelieving he’d demanded Gunnar and Daphne leave. “Get the hell out of here,” he’d growled, watching as Chloe had been handcuffed and questioned about seducing a ranch hand into breaking into Daphne’s house to poison and terrorize her. Chloe had finally confessed to passing Ben’s copy of their house key to the now unemployed, detained young man. Obviously feeling betrayed by everyone around him, Ben had closed himself in his office with a bottle of whiskey and Satan’s own mood. Still, Gunnar hadn’t wanted to wait any longer to repair the damage in his own life and make Daphne his wife again. He would never forget their quiet little ceremony, she in her sexy little skirt and he in his cowboy hat and jeans. Their first wedding had been 60
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a rather large event but this one had been way more intimate with just the two of them, the minister and his wife as witness. There could be no wedding in the world more romantic and memorable than their second one had been on this peaceful Wyoming summer evening. Now for the honeymoon, he mused. Screw the Bahamas or Europe, they already had some of the most breathtaking land in the country at their disposal. So they’d closed down the outfitter and sent all the employees home with pay. Alone with his new wife and two thousand acres to roam on… He couldn’t think of a better honeymoon in all the world than packing up a horse and riding together across God’s own country as man and wife. The sun was just now falling behind the jagged peaks of the Big Horn Mountains and the last of its rays bathed her flesh to a burnt-orange shade. Her new two-carat diamond ring, nestled in a matching diamond-lined enhancer band, circled her left ring finger. Gunnar had wanted a fresh beginning with her and it started with the ring. He wasn’t quite sure what she’d done with the old one but for now, they wanted no reminders of the hell Chloe had put them through. Daphne whimpered when he eased a finger down the valley of her ass and pushed aside the thong. He traced her labia, coated his fingertip with her juices and listened to that sexy sigh of hers as it tore from her lush lips. She curled her hand around a jutting limb, the ring set sparkling as dusk’s beams deflected off the shimmering gems. “That’s it,” he coaxed, slipping a finger into her tight sheath as he sitting on his haunches. “Oh…” She threw her head back and let out a groan of pleasure. In the distance, he could hear the call of a coyote. The evening’s cooling breeze blew through the trees and sent the campfire dancing. Even being almost July in Wyoming, soon the night would move in, chilly and crisp. The sun would fade to darkness, the stars would scatter above them like diamonds on black velvet and he’d make love to her before the fire and nature’s ruggedness. He’d take her all night long, over and over.
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The winds grazed his naked body but Gunnar’s blood simmered. He massaged the globes of her butt, spreading them apart for his inspection. Inhaling, he caught her musky, wild scent mixed with the sharp aroma of lodgepole pine and smoke. It seemed it reached down through his lungs and stirred his cock making him go hard with want, with need to bury himself inside her and never withdraw. But first he had to taste her. He leaned forward and nipped at one ass cheek, then the other. Spreading her further apart and securing the thong to the side, he studied the shaved pussy lips, the hard pearl, her puckered asshole and tight vagina. Ah, such a pretty cunt. With one swipe, he licked her damp slit from front to back. “Oh yeah,” she gasped. He slurped the flavor around in his mouth, relishing the palatable tang of her. “God damn if you don’t taste like honey.” “More…” She clamped her eyelids shut and thrust her ass backward. He obliged, this time circling her rectum with his tongue. At first she jerked, shocked because he’d never tasted her there before. But he increased the pressure, holding her hips immobile, dipping into the tight ring. He could taste droplets of her pussy juice mixed with the sweet flavor of her ass. It made him hungry and he probed deeper. Her body finally relaxed and her head fell forward, resting on her forearm. “That feels so good.” He skimmed his palm up her flat belly and found the round, soft bulk of one ample breast. Kneading it, relishing the taut nipple as it scraped his palm, he then reached around and located the engorged pebble of her clitoris with his free hand. Gunnar stroked the bud, increasing the pressure while at the same time giving her asshole equal attention with his tongue.
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The escalating of her whimpers and the sudden stiffening of her body told him she was already close to climaxing. So passionate. His beautiful little wife was so eager and easily aroused. “Uh-uh.” He was so turned on himself there was no way he could make it through this without coming prematurely. He had to have her now, together, to make her howl like that coyote while the sun gave way to the crescent moon above them. With the wild abandon of an animal, he had this irresistible need to pound himself deep into her canal and listen to her mewl like a cat. While under the star-lit sky with the fire warming their backsides and the chilly night air cooling their perspiring flesh, he longed to spill his hot cum into her womb and mark her once and for all as his. He wanted simply to possess her, to love her into eternity. Gunnar rose and drew the tight little tank top over her head. He reached around, filling his palms with her generous breasts. She’d gone braless and he couldn’t think of anything more sexy than Daphne’s nipples puckering nude against the pink ribbed fabric…except puckering nude against the rough bark of a fallen tree. His rigid erection tingled with anticipation, the tip oozing with pre-cum. He urged her forward so her hips pressed into the tree and his cock nestled between her firm cheeks. But he couldn’t take the torture any longer. In one single stroke, he buried his shaft into her hot depths. “Mmm.” She relaxed, welcoming him in. “Daphne…” The orgasm already threatened to explode. He closed his eyes and bit her silky shoulder to stave it off. Her warm back blanketed his abdomen and he cradled her firm ass cheeks within the nook of his groin. One hand pressed into her pelvic bone, holding her against him while he slid the other around and found the hard knot of her clit. She jerked at the sudden stimulation, finally melting into him when he eased up on the pressure. Her right arm hooked up and about his neck and over her right shoulder, she drew his mouth to hers. “Kiss me. Kiss me while you fuck my pussy from behind. I 63
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want to be totally consumed by you.” She tightened her vaginal muscles around his rod, drenching him with her elixir. “By my husband.” “My wife—forever.” He closed his mouth over hers. Gunnar could taste the sweetness of champagne on her tongue. They’d toasted their wedding as soon as they’d set up camp but now he wanted nothing more than to become drunk on her. Still sparring tongues with her, he gathered the fabric of her jean skirt and fisted it in his hands. Using it as a handle, he stepped back, giving himself room to move her beautiful ass forward and backward, alternating pulling out and gloving his cock with her slick heat. He pushed in and slid out over and over again, amazed as her pussy got wetter and wetter with each thrust. His sac tightened, aching with pre-orgasmic fire. Gradually, he increased the tempo and she threw her torso over the top of the log, sobbing her pleasure and holding on as he tore into her from behind. The only sound was that of the gentle wind, their slapping flesh and their ragged exhalations in rhythm with his feral penetrations. The top arc of the sun at last dropped behind the summit. Except for the blazing campfire, light became night and night welcomed the consummation of their restored love and new life together. “Gunnar…I’m so turned on, so ready. It’s coming, it’s going to be an explosion like never—” She stiffened. Her breath went still. In front, he used firm, circular motions on her knot while increasing the rhythm, fucking her from behind to draw out her bliss. Just when he started to feel the rising tremors rumble through her body—oh God, yeah—that spot deep in his loins combusted. The intense throbbing accompanied by the scorching eruption of cum made him see stars. He looked up into the sky and watched as new celestial bodies emerged on the dark blanket of space. Gunnar rode the cliffs of paradise with her. He listened to her soft weeping as it carried out across the meadow and rose into the mountains. Her climax went on and on, so full of life, his wife. Her ring glittered from the firelight, every so often blinding him, reminding him she was his partner into eternity. He wanted nothing more than to 64
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live his days out loving her, showering her with flowers and tokens of his love, awakening her to all of her fantasies. He vowed to spend every day of their marriage surrounding her with the colors of his love. The breathtaking shades of his passion.
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About the Author Roxana Blaze is the restless bad-girl alter-ego of multi-published, award-winning Ellora’s Cave author Titania Ladley. Just like in her writing, she loves to take on new roles, new genres, fresh challenges…and as any fickle woman might, Roxana reserves the right to maintain a split personality…er, um, to reinvent herself by getting a makeover now and then. Roxana lives with Titania, their husband, and their three kids in the wilds of northern Wisconsin, USA.
Roxana welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Writing as Titania Ladley A Gypsy’s Thief A Wanton’s Thief Bat Scratch Fever Curse of the Black Widow Enchanted Rogues anthology Heads or Tails? Jennie In a Bottle Me Tarzan, You Jewel Moonlite Mirage Naughty & Spice Spell of the Chameleon
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