An Invitation
Page 1
Table of Contents
Books by Jasmine Hill
Title Page
Legal Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademark Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
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My Bloody Valentine
AN INVITATION
JASMINE HILL
An Invitation
ISBN # 978-1-83943-482-2
©Copyright Jasmine Hill 2021
Cover Art by Claire Siemaszkiewicz ©Copyright February 2021
Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2021 by Totally Bound Publishing, United Kingdom.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.
Totally Bound Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.
My Bloody Valentine
Accept it if you dare…
Twenty-four-year-old personal trainer Bree Lewis has no time for love, so a mysterious invitation to a Valentine’s Weekend Gala has her intrigued. It seems crazy to accept, but perhaps she’ll meet a hot guy there who’ll be the distraction she desperately needs…even if the gala is taking place at a strange mansion in a secret location.
For weeks Vincent has been watching over Bree from the shadows, keeping her safe until the moment is right to make himself known to her. But when he sees Bree’s name on the Gala invitation list, he has no choice but to attend the event.
When Bree and Vincent meet, their attraction burns until the very air around them ignites. But things aren’t what they seem at the mansion and, shockingly, even Vincent is harboring a deadly secret. And when the guests start disappearing, it’s clear that something is very wrong.
Bree and Vincent are tested to their limits in their fight to escape the mansion and the deadly dangers that lurk there. It seems there’s no hope for the couple…unless Vincent is prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice.
Dedication
To my husband. I love you
Trademark Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Coco Chanel:
Dom Pérignon:
Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde: Robert Louis Stevenson
Fever:
Frankenstein: Mary Shelley
I Put a Spell on You:
Jimmy Choo:
Othello: William Shakespeare
Uber:
Victoria’s Secret:
Wuthering Heights: Emily Bronte
Chapter One
Bree fingered the invitation. Thick card, heavy. Expensive. Gold, embossed print and gold love hearts in elegant filigree bordering the scalloped edge. A date, time and a title for the event, the Valentine’s Weekend Gala. She flipped it over, but the back offered no more information than the front, only an image of Cupid, bow and arrow raised, an impish grin on his cherubic face. No sender details or address or even a request for an RSVP. Just the date and time that she would be picked up and conveyed…somewhere. She studied the accompanying envelope, but there were no postmarks or postdates, nothing to indicate whence it came. Just her name in elegant script—Ms. Bree Regina Lewis.
She tapped a nail on the invitation, fascination taking hold. It was madness to consider going—she couldn’t even tell anyone where she’d be. But the intrigue and mystery were a heady attraction. With yet another Valentine’s Day looming bleak and unpromising, perhaps this event was just what she needed. And did the Cupid image mean something? Was it the promise of some kind of romance? But, really, who could be behind such an invite? The host must be a bored and eccentric millionaire with too much time and money on his hands.
The training schedule she’d been working on forgotten, she sat back in her chair and stared out of her office window. She could take a friend, but the invitation didn’t specify ‘plus one’. That should raise a red flag, but she wouldn’t let a small detail like that stop her, reckless as she was by nature.
Valentine’s Day fell on a Saturday and she’d be picked up on the Friday, presumably for the gala the following evening. Friday the thirteenth… The day and date were considered unlucky and the movies by the same name definitely didn’t leave her with a warm, fuzzy feeling. But she wasn’t superstitious and the host hardly had a choice in the matter of dates if it was to be a Valentine’s weekend. It was obviously just a coincidence and nothing nefarious—really, a gift that she was lucky to be included in. And she had two weeks to plan her wardrobe.
According to the limited information provided, the Valentine’s Weekend Gala would start on the evening of the thirteenth and progress through to the afternoon of the fifteenth of February. Bree had no way of knowing if different attire was required for different events, so she’d just have to pack taking all considerations into account. And, of course, an evening gown would surely be required for the Saturday night Valentine Gala that must be taking place. She’d never been to a ball, so she’d need a dress for the occasion.
She logged into her online banking to check her account balance. The number of zeros was not promising, particularly when she took rent, food and bill payments into consideration. Her credit card balance looked more encouraging. She hadn�
�t been putting much on credit, purely because her personal life had been unexciting of late, to say the least. If she worked additional shifts she could easily pay for a new dress and shoes and some extras. It was worth it, to add some spice to her life.
She switched over to the gym training roster she’d been working on and typed her name into the vacant slots. Instructing boxing classes and early morning boot camps meant that she would have some early starts and later evenings. At least the Australian summer kept the days warm and sunny and enjoyable for any outdoor activity. Her personal training schedule could also bring in more income for one-on-one training. She input her name next to the clients who’d requested personal sessions. Normally she’d take about three to four per week, but for the next two weeks she ensured that she’d take two sessions a day. She’d have very little free time, but the extra money would be worth it.
She grabbed her mobile and selected her best friend’s contact. “Nell, tell me you don’t have anything going on this Saturday!”
“Hello to you too.” Nell laughed. “As it happens, I only have some laundry and housework to look forward to and I’ll do anything to put that off. What do you have in mind? Tell me it’s more interesting than my current plans. Please!”
“Are you up for a shopping trip?”
“That depends. You’re not shopping for white goods, are you? If you need a new fridge, I think I’ll pass.”
Bree giggled. “No, I need a new dress—an evening dress—and I want your opinion.”
“Where are you going? Is the invite for two?”
Bree paused. How was she going to tell her best friend about the mysterious invitation? Nell would most certainly demand to go with her once she knew the details—or lack of.
“It’s a work thing,” Bree lied. “The gym’s putting on an event for our clients.”
She felt a pang of guilt about lying to her friend, but she reasoned it was for the best. Nell would just worry, and she knew her friend well enough to know that she wouldn’t let the issue go without a myriad of questions that Bree couldn’t answer. Nell was cautious and practical while Bree was bold and impulsive. They were yin and yang and always joked that it was their opposite characters that made them work as best friends.
Nell’s sigh reached her across the connection. “Fine. You go to your work thing and I’ll help you shop for it. Perhaps you’ll meet some hot gym junkie. Then you can stop focusing on that phantom man you keep dreaming about.”
Bree started when her friend mentioned the exact thing that had been in the back of her mind. Bree too hoped she’d meet someone who could dispel the man of her dreams. She cleared her throat. “Great. I’m taking training sessions until midday on Saturday. How about I pick you up at twelve-thirty? We can have lunch then shop afterwards.”
“Sounds good. See you then, girlfriend,” Nell sang before hanging up.
Bree smiled at her friend’s uncanny knack of seeming to read her mind. Bree had told Nell about her dreams and about the man who featured in them constantly. A man whom she’d never met. She couldn’t even liken him to anyone. He was an enigma. A handsome, spellbinding enigma who preoccupied her sleep. It was getting to the point where she found herself comparing all the men she met to the man of her dreams. It was strange how his scent would stay with her for hours after she awoke, a masculine spice like no other that stimulated her senses to a distracting level. It was troublesome and irritating and she hoped fervently that this mysterious Valentine’s Day Weekend would throw a physical, flesh-and-blood male into her path.
Chapter Two
Friday the thirteenth of February dawned bright and clear. Bree had almost expected a bleak, unseasonably cold day and she was relieved when the sun rose high and hot through her window.
She’d slept later than usual in order to make up for some of the late nights and early mornings she’d been working. At least her body was in top form. The additional boot camp instruction and boxing sessions meant that she was as toned and fit as she’d ever been.
She had six hours until she was due to be picked up. For the first time, a niggle of doubt wormed its way into her psyche. What if the invitation had been someone’s idea of a cruel joke? What if no one was picking her up and she’d spent all that money on buying an outfit for nothing? She bit her bottom lip as she mulled the possibility over, but she couldn’t think of anyone who would do that to her. She had no enemies and no one she knew would go to the effort and expense of that invitation just to see her all dressed up with nowhere to go. No, she was sure that the invite was legit. And if not, the worst outcome was that she now had a couple of new outfits, a free weekend and some much-needed padding to her bank account.
She determined to just pack and think like the weekend was going ahead. She envisioned a fabulous hotel, a guestlist of interesting and varied people and an extravagant Valentine’s Ball. She refused to consider anything less. If she did, her mind would start wandering down a dark path and her nerve would be tested. Life was meant to be lived and enjoyed, not spent wondering about what could happen.
Her dress for the Valentine’s Day Gala hung in a garment bag on the back of her bedroom door. Her new Jimmy Choo shoes had been her one big splurge. She’d been lusting after them for ages and finally she had a reason, and the money, to indulge herself. At least she’d be dressed for the part—no doubt that the Saturday evening gala would be formal and impressive.
She showered and fixed her hair into a long, high ponytail. Minimal makeup was best for the day, she decided. Slim jeans, low-heeled sandals and a light cotton jersey completed her outfit. She packed up her toiletries and makeup bag and tucked them into the side pocket of her suitcase. Her mobile with charger was in her handbag. She was ready.
She’d just finished a glass of wine to settle her nerves when a sleek black car pulled to a stop in front of her townhouse. She grabbed her handbag and suitcase and walked out of her front door, a sense of foreboding darting through her as it slammed shut behind her. This was it. She could either walk forward or run back inside and pretend the invitation had never existed. As she stood uncertainly on her front porch, the car’s driver door opened and a tall, slim man emerged. His crisp navy uniform and matching cap gave Bree a sense of security.
The man nodded at her, gave a small bow and gestured her forward. When she didn’t move immediately, he strode the few steps up her front path, grasped her luggage and returned to the car, where he packed it into the trunk. He opened the back door closest to her and gestured to her again. With halting steps, Bree made her way to the car and slipped into the back seat. The door was closed firmly behind her and within minutes they were on their way, speeding forward toward somewhere…with the safety of her townhouse and cozy Sydney suburb growing smaller in the distance.
The car sported highly polished leather seats and a spotless interior. A silver ice bucket sat in the console in the middle of the back seat, a demi-sized bottle of French champagne nestling in the ice. A card attached to the neck of the bottle arrested her attention.
Welcome to our Valentine’s Day Weekend Gala. We are so glad that you have accepted our invitation. Please relax and enjoy the journey. We look forward to hosting you.
Again, the card was thick and expensive, and the heart details added a romantic touch. At least she hadn’t jumped headlong into a strange man’s car! The champagne and the note verified that the invitation was legitimate. As was the driver, for that matter. There was also another detail that she’d noticed—the use of the plural ‘we’ and ‘our’. That meant the weekend wasn’t hosted by one person. Not a huge discovery, but for some reason, the insight put her more at ease.
She picked up the champagne glass, flicked the rim and was rewarded with a resounding ting. “Crystal,” she muttered. “Expensive.” She poured herself a glass of the bubbles and took a fortifying sip, then another. She still didn’t know where the vehicle was headed, and the uncertainty was getting to her.
Bree fidgeted and cleared her throa
t to speak to the driver. “Can you tell me where we’re going?”
“No,” was the succinct reply.
“Nothing?” she squeaked, panic sending her heart into an erratic flutter.
“It is difficult to explain.” The driver’s voice was cultured and strangely melodic. “We will be in the car for some time.”
Bree met his pale eyes in the rear-view mirror.
“I can tell you are troubled,” he commented smoothly. “I suggest you relax with the champagne. I’ll put some music on. Perhaps that will soothe you.”
A moment later, the sweet tones of a classical overture filled the car. Bree sat back in the leather seat and tried the meditative breathing techniques she’d been practicing. The deep, measured inhalations started to work, and her heart rate slowed to a semi-normal rhythm. She finished her glass of champagne and closed her eyes, the music and quiet vibration of the car also working to lull her into a calmer state.
“I’m going to be okay.” She repeated the phrase like a mantra until the words and the movement of the car quieted her into an uneasy sleep.
She awoke with a start. The car’s course had changed from constant and sedate to winding. Steep, sweeping curves of the road jostled her in the seat and she grasped the leather for traction. They were obviously travelling up some type of mountain and the only area she could think of that fit that description was the Blue Mountains.
She peered out of the window, but low-lying cloud cover made it difficult to make out any features of the landscape. She cupped her palms against the glass and stared harder. The terrain was strange. Foreign. Shrubs sprouted out of the craggy landscape like hairless spiders. Trees, with branches abnormally bare, spread spindly boughs like skeletal limbs. Everything looked grey and lifeless. Even the air was denser and colder, as if the fog had sucked out the sunshine and warmth. Bree shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Where are we?