by Nana Malone
When he finished, she smiled.
“Let me in,” he said.
“I don’t know if I can trust you. I don’t want to be hurt, Niccolo.”
“Me, either. It’s a risk. Take it with me,” he said.
She stared down at him for a moment, unsure what to do with her vulnerability. Should she protect herself or be brave enough to trust him?
“Let me in,” he said again.
She drew the window down. It only took a few minutes for him to arrive. She opened the door and he walked in and closed it. He removed his guitar and took her face into his hands.
“Let me in,” he said.
With his mouth only an inch from hers, he said the words to unlock her heart. “I will fight for this. Whatever it is we have. To me it feels like love. I don’t care if I’ve known you for three minutes or three days. I know what love feels like. I’m lucky enough to have experienced it once before in my life.”
“This is crazy,” she panted.
“No. It’s fate. It’s destiny. Trust me. Let me love you. I swear it will be only you, cara. I can show you what true love feels like.”
He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He pulled down the top of her dress to her waist. He stroked lips, tongue and fingers down her neck to the tops of her breasts. His mouth sucked gently and laved the tip. She pushed his head down farther. She wanted his kisses to go south. And they did. He pushed the material of her dress from her thighs and set aside her panties with his tongue, circling over and over. She dug her hand into his scalp and pushed his head there as she gyrated her pelvis up and down in motion with his devilish licks. And soon she felt herself explode.
In as much time as he took to get her to the breaking point, he found the opportunity to do away with his pants. He was in her with a single thrust. She gripped his shoulders hard. Her eyes stretched wide and she stared into his. He began to glide in and out of her with slow, measured strokes at first, but her movements beneath him hurried his pace. He dropped on her and went desperately fast with his rushed breath gushing over her face. He eased his hands underneath her butt cheeks and squeezed. Together they capitulated and she cried out to the ceiling her pleasure and torment. To be in love with a man again was scary. To be in a strange country with a man she’d never envisioned as her soul mate was even more terrifying. But when he lifted his face and she was able to look deeply into his brown eyes, she believed him. She believed in love again. And that was the biggest surprise.
* * *
“Afternoon,” Niccolo said.
“Huh?” Aniyah turned over and looked into his eyes. He smiled and kissed her nose. “It’s morning.”
“No, cara, you’ve been asleep for quite some time. It’s almost noon,” he said.
Aniyah chuckled. She was wrapped in his arms. Her body tangled with his. She tried to scoot away in modesty, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“How did you sleep?” he asked.
“I don’t know...better than I thought I would.”
He touched her face and her hair. “Stay with me.”
“I said I would,” she answered.
“No. Stay here. Stay in Camogli. Stay with me,” he said.
“Niccolo. We are going too fast. What if—”
He kissed her.
“Don’t answer with your brain. Answer with your heart. Stay with me,” he said. “You are fearless, Aniyah. You don’t run from life, you run to it. You think all your decisions are impulsive, and maybe some of them have been. But to me each choice, each disappointment, each mistake brought you here. And I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
She scooted in close to him. “Is it possible that we did find love, Niccolo? Is it possible that this is where I’m supposed to be?”
“Anything is possible, cara,” he said and held her.
“What about the hotel? The judges? Did we win?”
“I don’t know,” he said and stroked her hair.
“What about your aunt? She thinks I’m just a replacement for your dead wife,” she reminded him.
“I don’t care.”
Aniyah closed her eyes. She did what he said. She shut off her brain. She searched deep in her heart for the answer. And it wasn’t hard to find. She smiled. “Yes. Yes! I’ll stay!”
Niccolo howled. He flipped her over and tickled her. She laughed. There was a knock on the door. They stopped wrestling and Niccolo looked up.
“Niccolo! It’s important!” a member of the staff said.
He let her go. Aniyah pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness. Niccolo put on his shorts and went to the door. He opened it. The young man handed over an envelope. Niccolo opened it and searched the contents. He pulled out what looked like a certificate. His eyes stretched.
“What? What is it?”
“A fresh start,” he said.
“I don’t understand?” she asked.
“We did it. We won the contest. We can save this place!”
Aniyah put her hand to her mouth in shock. “We did it?”
Niccolo threw the certificate up in the air. He then dived on the bed. She bounced on the mattress and laughed. He dragged her underneath him. “Aniyah Marie Taylor, I am falling in love with you.”
She smiled. “Niccolo, I think I’ve already fallen in love with you.”
He kissed her and she let go. It felt so good.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from ALL HE NEEDS by Shirley Hailstock.
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All He Needs
by Shirley Hailstock
Chapter 1
Renee Hart stepped out of the conference room. She was going to burst. Without a word, she rushed past the secretaries and headed outside. The glass entry doors were the air pressure variety, yet she slammed them both open. Sunlight and humidity hit her like a hot oven. Renee welcomed it as she would a dive into a tropical pool. She needed a place to conceal the echo that was roaring inside her. She walked fast toward her car, but she knew she wasn’t going to make it.
She got as far as the tree-lined divider that separated the upper parking lot from the lower one. Then she howled. She let the sound inside her go. All of it. Elation erupted like a volcano. Every emotion she’d ever had thundered and rolled with p
sychedelic pleasure. She was happy, so happy. Tears broke from her eyes and ran over her cheeks.
Renee hadn’t known when she’d accepted the bridal consultant position at Weddings by Diana that it would be the key to her heart’s desire.
Two weeks ago she’d presented her idea to the two partners, and after jumping every time one of them opened her door, they’d finally given her the go-ahead today.
Standing under the trees, Renee smiled at the sky through the water in her eyes. The universe had finally favored her. She stood for several minutes, taking it all in. She didn’t know how much time passed before she felt the press of heat and humidity on her skin again. Back on solid ground, she returned to the office.
Humming one more wedding as if the phrase were the lyrics to a popular song, she pulled up the file for the Griffin–Shephard nuptials on her computer. Twenty minutes later she was still staring at the screen with no idea what she should do next. Yet her mind was racing with things that needed to be done for her new venture.
A bridal magazine. Her own creation. Directed by her. With her ideas. There was so much to be done. Vendors, suppliers, layouts. Did she still have her contacts in the industry? She had to find a place to work, hire people...she needed to talk to Teddy about using her designs in the first issue. The first issue. She nearly screamed.
And a name.
What was she going to call the magazine? She had control, complete control—the partners had given it to her. Releasing a breath, Renee threaded her fingers through her hair, holding her long mane away from her face as her thoughts whirled. A boulder-weight of decisions crushed her shoulders. Where was she going to start?
And how long would it be before Carter found out?
* * *
Two weeks later, Renee’s blood still sang with joy at the prospect of her new job. She was in New York, and she’d had several appointments to get the magazine’s plan started. Initially, she’d been overwhelmed, but a little wine and a pen and paper calmed her down enough to begin cataloging the list of things she needed to accomplish. But before everything could begin rolling, she would have to be a consultant on one more wedding she’d already agreed to do. Then she could give her full attention to Designed for Brides, the name she’d chosen for the magazine.
The sun had set and she should be out with friends, painting the town as many shades of red as were in the rainbow. But she wasn’t. She was walking toward Rockefeller Center, marveling at the heartbeat of the city and remembering the times she’d rushed past all the wide-eyed tourists and crowded commotion without a second thought.
Reaching Radio City, Renee turned toward Fifth Avenue. A couple holding hands raised them in an arch and she ducked through it. Renee looked after the lovers, remembering when that was her. She should have known better than to come to the city. It was too close to Carter. But New York was huge. Nightlife was abundant. There had to be a million places to go on any given night. The chances of her running into Carter Hampshire were minuscule. She was safe. And maybe he wasn’t even in the city anymore. He’d told her he was leaving when he’d said he no longer wanted to see her. Maybe he was still away. Gone to parts unknown.
Renee had departed, too. She’d pulled up stakes and moved to Princeton, NJ, where, to her good fortune, she’d joined Diana Greer and Teddy Granville at Weddings by Diana.
But today she was back in the city she considered home. Out of the blue, her friend, Blair Massey, had called and invited her for dinner. How Blair had known Renee was in the city was a mystery she’d have to uncover later.
Renee had a wedding in Brooklyn tomorrow night. She was here to make sure all the final details were in order, but she couldn’t help feeling nervous about reconnecting with people from her old life. That was how she thought of it—her old life. Back before she’d gone to Princeton, when she’d spent much of her time with people like Blair and Carter.
Her cell phone played the wedding march. She jerked around toward a shop window and stopped. Just being in New York put her on edge. She relaxed and put the device to her ear.
“Blair, I’m on my way,” she said.
“Glad I caught you. I want to change where we meet,” Blair said.
“Well, I’m good and hungry.”
“I just discovered Villa Maria’s is closed for renovations. Let’s meet at Moonraker’s on 48th Street.”
“Fine,” Renee said. “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“See you then.”
She felt a little better after hearing Blair’s voice. The night had promise. Renee wouldn’t think about Carter at all—he was out of her life. He’d been out of it for three years. There was no reason to think that on a Friday night, in a city this size, she’d run into the one man she never wanted to see again. He was probably in the Hamptons or out having fun with someone else.
Still, she couldn’t help thinking about him. They’d worked together, then begun dating. She’d been well on her way to falling in love when—when he’d left her. It had been a clean break, nothing drawn out or lingering. No arguments, accusations or tears, yet three years later Renee felt as bereft as she had the day he’d walked out of her life.
She’d cycled through many possible reasons for their breakup: he wanted to marry someone else, his family disapproved of her, there was another woman, maybe he’d discovered he had a child. The truth was, she just didn’t know. And without that closure, her wounded heart had no chance of healing.
* * *
Carter Hampshire sat forward in his chair and snapped the trade magazine as if he could shake the words off the page. Dropping it on the desk, he steepled his fingers as he looked down over the story. It was a small notice, but the name jumped off the page. He hadn’t heard about her in three years. Carter looked down again. Of all the print on that page, his eyes went straight to her name.
Renee Hart, former director of the wedding magazine division at Hampshire Publications, is planning to start her own magazine for brides. The title for the new venture has not been determined at this writing, but Ms. Hart is actively making the rounds.
“Damn,” Carter cursed. It couldn’t be true. But in his heart, he knew it was something she was fully capable of doing. It wasn’t inevitable, but it was logical for Renee. If she hadn’t gone to work for one of his competitors, she’d be striking out on her own.
Carter walked to the windows on the 38th floor of the building that bore his family name. The night lights of New York emulated the postcards tourists bought every year.
“Renee Hart.” He spoke her name aloud, checking the feel of it on his lips, the sound of it in the empty air. After three years, she still haunted him. A benevolent ghost, whose face and figure was as corporeal as smoke. But in his mind she was almost touchable.
And now she was returning to New York. It made sense that she would return to the city—New York was a publishing powerhouse.
Carter returned to his desk and picked up the office phone. He dialed a number and waited. Blair Massey answered on the first ring.
“Good, you’re still there,” he said without saying hello. It was seven o’clock, but Blair often worked late. He and Blair had known each other for years. She was a wizard at what she did, and she had mentored Renee. If anyone knew the whole story, it would be Blair.
“I was just on my way out.”
“Meet me in the lobby.” It was a suggestion, and Carter tried to keep the command tone out of his voice. He hung up.
Blair was waiting when he stepped out of the small paneled room. The fifty-year-old woman looked serious, although she was as impeccably dressed as any model on the fashion pages.
“Carter, I was trying to tell you I already have dinner plans,” Blair said. She checked her watch. “And I’m already late.”
He took her arm and moved her out of the parade of people. “Where are you eati
ng?”
“At Moonraker’s.”
“Good, I’ll walk with you.”
He rushed her along, heading for the door and 48th Street. Blair stopped abruptly and moved to the side. “What’s going on?”
“Renee Hart,” he answered.
Blair’s expression didn’t alter more than a millimeter, but the slow breath she exhaled told him she knew.
“What about Renee?” Blair hedged.
“Is she going into competition with us?”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“It doesn’t matter. Answer the question.”
“She’s starting a magazine. It’s small stuff. We have no need for alarm.”
“I’m not alarmed.”
“Then why did you rush down from the 38th floor?”
“The news came as a surprise. How long have you known?”
“A couple of weeks,” she said.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She searched his face a long time. Carter held his expression still.
“It didn’t seem that important. When the Weaver Group opened a magazine that competed with our how-to series on home improvement, you didn’t consider it newsworthy. Why is Renee’s small entry into the bridal market cause for concern? She hasn’t even chosen the name of the publication yet. Unless your interest has nothing to do with the business...”
Blair was aware of Carter’s past relationship with Renee. He’d never spoken a word to her about it, but Renee was her friend, and women talked.
She checked her watch. “I’m going to be late. Carter, if you’re really interested, I’ll find out what I can and call you after dinner.”
“Find out?” he said. “Is Renee here? Are you having dinner with her?”
Blair looked at the sky, exasperated that she’d let him guess who she was meeting.
