Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set
Page 35
“Good thing, cause I’d miss your sassy mouth.” Nick sank into a chair beside her.
“I want to explain about the video. You deserve the truth, but oh God, it’s embarrassing.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Embarrassing? How?”
Veronique inhaled much-needed air into her lungs and said, “When I saw you working outside shirtless, I had to capture how hot you looked. I told you I wouldn’t take more pictures, so I filmed you instead.” She looked away from his searching gaze. “I didn’t know how much longer I’d have with you and I wanted to keep it as a memory. For my eyes only. I swear,” she said, her cheeks ablaze.
He leaned forward and gently kissed her head where it wasn’t bandaged. “It’s okay, I believe you, honey. I’m no longer upset about it. I’m, well… I’m flattered,” he said with a lopsided grin.
She expelled a deep sigh of relief. “You’re flattered and I’m mortified,” she said ironically, wishing her vivid blush would fade as she searched the room. “Where’s my purse? You needed the flash drive for the meeting.”
“Don’t worry, I sent it by courier and it got there on time.”
“What happened at the meeting?”
“Elizabeth got kicked out as CEO and was promptly arrested and hauled away in handcuffs.”
“Good!”
“She’s in jail. And I just got a text from Fred that the hit man was caught near the Canadian border.”
“Yay,” she said weakly. “I’d smile, but it hurts too much.” She looked around the room. “How long have I been in the hospital?”
“It’s four o’clock. The ambulance brought you in around ten this morning. Do you remember anything about this morning?” he asked earnestly.
“I do. The most important thing,” she said softly, her gaze tenderly roving his face.
“What’s that? Did you see the hit man’s face?”
“No, I meant when you shouted out that you loved me.” She drew in a tremulous breath, hoping he’d say it again.
“I do love you, Ronnie. I was too damned stubborn and too blinded by past hurt to admit it.”
“Really?” she whispered, deeply touched by his humble tone. Her heart expanded with happiness.
He loved her!
“Yes, really.” He smiled and shook his head. “When I saw you that first day through the window doing a happy dance in the rain, it occurred to me how dull my life had been the past six months. I don’t want to go back to Starfish Island alone. I want you beside me, making life beautiful. I can’t live without you, baby.”
Her heart nearly stopped with joy when he dropped to his knees again and she saw pure love reflected in his eyes. She held her breath and gazed into his beautiful eyes. He looked like he had something very important to say.
“I don’t have a ring for you yet, but I’m giving you my heart since you’ve already stolen mine. Marry me, Ronnie. Make my life complete,” Nick said, his voice hoarse with emotion.
She searched his tortured eyes. He looked so distressed, she could only imagine how guilty he felt over her almost getting killed. “You don’t have to do it out of guilt, Nick. None of this was your fault. I know how you feel about marriage—”
“Hush, now you’re making me upset,” he growled. “I need you more than the air I breathe. If it weren’t for those tubes you’re connected to, I’d show you just how much right now.”
“Oh, how I wish you would.” Her heart felt close to bursting with so much love, it was almost painful.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make up for lost time when I bring you home with me. We have a lifetime of loving ahead,” Nick said, rising from the floor to deposit a tender kiss on her lips.
“A whole lifetime,” Veronique agreed. Happy tears welled up as she gazed at the wonderful man who raided her heart many years ago and never let go.
Epilogue
Two months later on Starfish Island…
Veronique sat next to Nick on the porch step with her white kitten asleep on her lap. Nick had bought her the kitten when they’d returned from New York. As soon as she’d stopped bawling like a baby that he’d brought her a kitty that looked just like Slinky, she’d promptly named her Abby.
Veronique had recuperated from the accident and her bruised body was healing nicely. The doctors had voiced their amazement that she hadn’t broken anything. She loved telling everyone it was hearing Nick say, “I love you,” that had made her bounce, rather than break.
The past two months, Nick had watched over her like a hawk, making sure she rested and ate healthily. It was a good thing too, because she would need the extra nutrition now. Maman was in a tizzy planning her wedding and her Heart sisters had assured her they’d drop everything to be her bridesmaids. They were all rejoicing that she’d be marrying Nick. Teddy had let out such a loud whoop that Veronique almost dropped the phone.
It seemed the happiest of all was Nick’s mom, Susan. From the moment Veronique met Susan, she felt an affinity with her. A warm, affectionate woman, she’d pulled Veronique into her arms for a tight hug. When she’d stolen a moment alone with her, Susan had said, “You’ve made my son so happy, I love you already, Ronnie!”
Nick was happier than ever these days. The missing funds had been returned to the Cameron Hope Foundation and he was at the helm as CEO again. His next project was to fund a shelter in Miami for abused women hiding from their violent partners. Veronique was already planning a series of articles to bring awareness to their plight.
She was relieved Elizabeth was in jail awaiting trial. Vying for a lenient sentence, the hit man had pleaded guilty and confessed to killing Slinky and targeting Veronique to kill her on Elizabeth’s orders.
“Look at her.” Nick’s voice stirred her from her musings and brought her to the present as he nodded at the tiny white kitten curled on her lap purring softly. He petted Abby’s head and said, “You’d think she was attached to your lap.”
“She’ll have to make room for another soon,” Veronique said happily.
Nick’s hand went still on Abby’s head as he looked up. “What do you mean?”
“Contrary to what you might think, you are not infertile, Nick Cameron,” she said, grinning broadly.
“You mean?” His beautiful blue eyes searched hers with wonder.
“Yes! You’re going to be a daddy.”
His eyes widened as his jaw dropped. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said proudly.
“You’ve made me so happy!” He took Abby off her lap and set the kitten on the floor. Lifting Veronique in his arms, he carried her inside, huskily murmuring in her ear, “I’m going to show you just how happy.”
And he did until she was speechless with bliss.
THE END
About the Author
Sophia Knightly
USA Today bestselling author, Sophia Knightly, loves to cook up hot romance and delicious humor in her feel-good stories. Whether it's romantic suspense, romantic comedy or chick lit, her books are fun and sexy contemporary romances that feature hot alpha heroes and strong, smart women.
A two-time Maggie award finalist and a P&E Readers' Poll finalist, she is traditionally published by St. Martin's Press, Kensington and Samhain Publishing. Her popular Tropical Heat Series books, Wild for You and Sold on You, have consistently been on multiple Amazon bestselling lists and sold over 100,000 copies.
When not writing or reading, she loves walking the beach, exploring museums, going to the theatre, enjoying good food, and watching movies. One of her favorite pastimes remains simply watching people, especially those in love!
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Write to her at: sophiaknightly@gmail.com
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Additional Books by Sophia Knightly
SOLD ON YOU (Tropical Heat Series, Book Two)
GRILL ME, BABY
NAUGHTY VEGAS NIGHTS
by Tawny Weber
Chapter One
“Does Las Vegas do crazy things to people’s sex drives?”
Natasha Stover looked around the convention center, wondering how many times these people thought they’d be getting laid over this five day event.
“We’ve only been at this for a few hours and we’re already running low on condoms. At this rate, I’ll be out before the weekend.”
She’d thought her years of prophylactic paranoia were long gone. But here she was again, thanks to Las Vegas, lingerie and a desperate need to prove herself.
“Well, how could you know? You’d think two cases would be enough for a five day convention.” Lanie Burton, Natasha’s assistant for the week and her best friend for always, burrowed under the draped table for the second case.
Even muffled, her tone echoed Natasha’s stunned reaction. And with good reason. It was barely noon on Wednesday, the first day of the Las Vegas Lingerie Convention, one of the biggest in the industry. And that meant venders, buyers, designers and wholesalers from all over the world would be traipsing through this hall over the next five days.
Natasha’s frugal soul shuddered as Lanie ripped open the second box of assorted prophylactics and refilled the large brandy snifter display bowl. The harsh overhead lights glinted off the foil squares and a small sign requesting business cards in exchange for a condom advertising her aunt’s company, Sensual Support Lingerie. Natasha flicked her thumbnail over the dozen or so cards and sighed. Apparently the convention-goers were reading-challenged, although they clearly weren’t performance-challenged.
“Look at the crowd. We’ll definitely make things happen this week,” Lanie proclaimed, bouncing in her vintage Candies. She looked like a redheaded sprite stuck in a time warp.
Lanie owned a retro-wear shop and Natasha often joked that she had vintage ADD. The woman couldn’t stick with a single time period in any one outfit. Today, her dress was forties couture, accented with love beads from the sixties and her feet were shod in eighties glory. But Lanie made it work. As she regularly lectured Natasha, it was all about the attitude.
Natasha’s clothes screamed just as much attitude as Lanie’s. But in the opposite direction. Lanie threw clothes together for fun. Natasha carefully chose everything she wore with an eye to accentuate, in a good way, her bountiful curves. A D cup woman had to dress her body just right or she’d come across as either hootchie or hefty.
To avoid that, Natasha went for soft fabrics, cool shades to complement her coloring and fit her admittedly restrictive and cold upbringing. But underneath, she indulged her favorite vice. Lingerie. Wearing it, designing it and most recently while she helped her aunt, selling it.
“Who knew there were so many kinds of lingerie and...” Lanie’s voice dropped to an excited whisper. “Sex things, around?”
It wasn’t like they were innocents. Natasha and Lanie both lived just outside of San Francisco, where sex was hardly a secret. But here, it was like everyone took it to the extreme.
Natasha scanned the convention hall. Voices echoed in a muted roar through the cavernous space. The hall might be filled with an exotic clash of colognes, perfumes and the overlying scent of strawberries and cream bath products, but sex was definitely in the air. From the scantily clad mannequins and even more scantily clad booth models to the sweetly displayed virginal honeymoon wear, the convention screamed S-E-X. In all its varied flavors.
Businessmen brushed shoulders with guys in leather, and convention models paraded around in sexy lingerie carrying placards advertising booth numbers. Her eyes widened as a woman wearing more tattoo ink than fabric handed her a brochure for body jewelry and adventurous sexual aids.
Dog collars, whips, nipple rings and...
Natasha swallowed a gasp and heat crept up her neck. She spent a lot of time fantasizing about incredible sex. But some of the offerings in the brochure were wild. "Oh my..."
"What?" Lanie asked, trying to see over her shoulder.
She handed her friend the pamphlet.
“Yowza.” Lanie winced, pointing to a set of spiked nipple clips.
“Yeah, I’ll bet that’s hell on the lingerie.” Natasha tilted her head to one side and considered. Among other things.
She glanced up from ogling the brochure to see a pair of models in bridal styled lingerie—a tiny teddy, white stockings and a veil. Very sweet. She nudged Lanie with her elbow and nodded in their direction with a grin. “It’s like the Ben & Jerry’s of sex. There’s something for everyone.”
“Or like that place with thirty-nine flavors. You can sample a little of everything.”
“Not me. I’ll stick with the tried and true,” Natasha insisted with a grimace.
“Think of what you’re missing. I mean, sure, if you know you hate fruit flavors, don’t go there. But how do you know you won’t like something new unless you give it a taste?”
“I’m better off with vanilla. Every time I indulge in Karamel Sutra, I end up with another episode to add to my most embarrassing moments collection.”
“Oh, please, I wouldn’t wish vanilla on my grandmother. Live a little, Tasha.”
“I think not. Whenever I give in to my sensual side, things end up a mess.”
“Or a four-alarm disaster.”
“That fire wasn’t my fault,” she defended with a sniff.
“It was your dress that went up in flames,” Lanie pointed out smugly.
“Yeah, well that bonfire was huge. I didn’t realize Tad and I’d rolled so close to it.” Natasha sighed. She usually kept a better grip on her sexual yearnings, but that night had reminded her so much of her college days. And a certain hot guy... A bonfire, wine, the surf and a full moon. She’d just lost her head. And then, right afterward, her Michael Kors sheath to fire damage.
“He must’ve been damn good for you to let loose that tight grip you keep on your control.”
Natasha grimaced. No. He hadn’t been. Definitely not worth the loss of one of her favorite dresses.
“I’m cursed.”
“You know, there has to be a reason for that.” The petite redhead leaned against the table, her chin resting on her fist as she considered. “Some deep psychological warning device that’s triggered every time you get a little sexually adventurous. Probably something to do with your parents and all those rules they drilled into you.”
“Believe me, sexual adventures, acceptable and otherwise, are not something that’s discussed in my family,” Natasha said with a laugh that was only a little bitter. Maybe if sex had been discussed, she wouldn’t feel like she had to hide her needs.
And that probably proved Lanie’s point. Natasha’s family was old-money rich and founding fathers snooty. Which pretty much made them more uptight than a virgin gripping her promise ring at a bisexual strip club.
Her parents had gone into deep freeze when she’d told them she was taking a leave of absence from her job as an engineer in the family firm to temporarily run Aunt Sharon’s lingerie boutique. Capitalism was all well and good in the Stover’s mind, until it came to their youngest daughter hawking undies on Main Street. But given Aunt Sharon’s recent multiple sclerosis diagnosis, they couldn’t bitch too much without—God forbid—looking churlish.
It was a damn good thing they were clueless that Natasha had been secretly designing lingerie the last few years for her aunt. They might actually lower themselves to yell, curse and, quite possibly, throw a vase or two.
Some people, namely Lanie, had suggested that Natasha was doing the whole lingerie thing as a form of rebellion against her uptight upbringing.
It really wasn’t though. She loved the art of creating sexy lingerie that supported a full figure and made the most of a woman’s lush curves. Colors, textures, fabrics, trims. All aimed at making a woman, any woman, fee
l sensual and sexually empowered.
It wasn’t rebellion, Natasha sighed. It was her only sexual outlet.
“I think Tad was right. I’m more cool and contained than hot and wild.” But dammit, she craved hot and wild. She’d had it once and felt like she’d been running from the memory of it ever since. The only place she found any excitement these days was in her design work.
“Tad was an idiot. That’s what you get for dating someone your mom picked out. You’re better off without him.”
Probably. She always seemed to attract the same kind of men. Ones who were drawn to her cool ladylike demeanor and classic blond looks, only to be shocked when she got comfortable enough in the relationship to suggest getting a little wild. Sadly, with most of the men she’d dated, the woman-on-top position was wilder than they could handle.
“It doesn’t matter right now,” Natasha sidestepped, not wanting to discuss her parents or her latest disaster of a relationship. “I need to focus all my energy on helping keep Aunt Sharon’s business afloat while she’s in the hospital, and modifying things so she can keep it going after she’s home.”
She made a show of tucking away the brochure. There, all the crazy sex stuff was nice and hidden.
“I’ll take Sensual Supports over sex at this point. At least that isn’t cursed. All I need are a few solid contracts, something big enough to make it possible for Aunt Sharon to continue designing, but retire from the boutique. From what the doctors said, she’ll need to cut back even after she’s well enough to work again.”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
Natasha was the lucky one. Without her aunt’s influence over the years, she’d likely have turned out exactly the way her parents wanted. Uptight, upright, boring as hell. She’d be popping pills for breakfast, washing them down with scotch at lunch and doing the pool boy before dinner. Just like her sister. Instead, Sharon had encouraged Natasha to think outside the box, even if she hadn’t been ready to step outside of it. She’d been the most positive influence in Natasha’s life. Now it was up to Natasha to make sure the rest of Sharon’s was comfortable.
Frustrated with the stagnant traffic in the booth—and the topic at hand—Natasha started rearranging lingerie.