Jewel of the Sun's Blood Destiny

by Bekki Lynn

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Bekki Lynn

  Jewel of the Sun’s Blood Destiny © March 2010 Bekki Lynn

  eXcessica publishing

  All rights reserved

  Jewel of the Sun’s

  Blood Destiny

  By Bekki Lynn

  Chapter 1

  “What the…” Cassandra Jones faltered when she swung the door open and saw the redheaded woman on her knees. For a split second, she stared at Stephanie Zimmerman, the Credit and Collections manager. The woman had a man’s shaft in her mouth.

  Shocked, she felt her mouth hang open as she followed the suit-clothed body upward into the glazed eyes of Rick Strickland. Next thing she knew, her fist met his jaw. He stumbled sideways, popping from the mouth. White liquid shot all over the woman who laughed and tried to catch it.

  Humiliated and pissed, Cassandra stormed down the hallway, her heels clacking on the polished floor. There was nothing more embarrassing then finding your fiancée in the midst of a blowjob given by another woman. Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she wasn’t going to cry in front them. He wasn’t getting the satisfaction.

  Cassandra grabbed her purse from the desk drawer then yanked her coat from the freestanding rack behind it, ignoring the bang when it fell over. She stormed across the lobby to the exit, letting the phone go unanswered.

  Anger drove her to shove the wooden, glass-paned door open, rattling its hinges.

  “Cassandra!” Rick, the accounting manager for Strickland Financial Services, called after her.

  She walked faster, the soles of her shoes scuffing the pavement as she rounded the corner of the building. He caught up with her, his fingers pinching her upper arm as he turned her around. She swung at him, but he caught her hand. His wavy brown hair fell across his forehead and she ignored the fact he looked cute as hell. “Leave me the fuck alone!”

  “Come on, you know it didn’t mean anything. She was teasing—”

  “Go to hell!” She pulled out of his grasp, removed the diamond ring from her finger and dropped it on the concrete between them. “It’s over.” She stepped from the sidewalk and hurried toward her car.

  “Cassandra, come back inside. Let’s talk,” he begged.

  She ignored him, unlocked her car and climbed in. Shoving the key in the ignition, she gunned the engine to life and backed out of the parking space as he came up alongside the car next to hers. Shame she didn’t back over him, she thought as she punched the gas pedal. She headed to the lot exit leading out onto University Avenue. Traffic left her sitting there and she glanced in her rearview mirror.

  Rick had thrown his arms up and his mouth moved. Tears stung as they reached the ducts and her eyes filled. No! Not yet. She grabbed a tissue from the console and saw the insurance payment lying in the passenger seat. Damn it! She wanted to escape to her apartment, burrow in her sorrow and push it aside before she saw her grandfather.

  Shit! She had class tonight. At least Rick wouldn’t be teaching it. He’d enlisted a tax attorney to speak. The information he’d provide would help her with the books at Jones Pawn Shop. Her grandfather had been thrilled when she asked to take them over and she didn’t want to disappoint him.

  “Come on, let me out of here,” she mumbled when the stream of cars continued.

  When an opening appeared, she eased forward and took it. She headed south, across Peoria to make it to her insurance agents office before they closed. From there, she hoped to make it back this way to Illinois Central College’s North Campus in time.

  The only issue was the traffic. In addition to people getting off work, she had to get through the high traffic area stores and restaurants caused.

  “This is great,” she said with sarcasm. “How many red lights am I going to hit?” She should have done this at lunch, but Rick took her to Le Peeps where he’d been attentive, loving. She must have looked like a fool, gushing as a fresh engaged woman would. Swiping at an escaped tear, she willed them back down.

  After dropping the payment off, she headed back, finding the lights more in her favor. A solid three blocks from the campus, she heard a pop and the car swerved on its own. A flat tire. Damn it! What else could go wrong?

  She eased the car to a stop on the side of the road and pulled the trunk lever. Cassandra unscrewed the jack from the trunk well over the donut tire and used the flat end of the tire iron to remove the hubcap, but when she tried to loosen the lug nuts, they wouldn’t budge. Anger bubbled up and she kicked at the tire and tried again. When that didn’t work, she beat the tire with the iron rod while yelling, “Damn… stinkin’… pig… hope… he… fries… in… hell. I love you, he says.” A car came up behind hers and she glanced over prepared to take a swing at the next man who got in her face.

  The driver climbed out and stood between their vehicles. “Put down the tire iron. I’ll help you.”

  “Are you a pig?” He stared at her with a blank expression while she waited for a response.

  “Put the tool down,” he said with quiet demand.

  She stared at him a bit wary. With his black hair pulled back in a ponytail and his steely, dark eyes fixed on her, the decision came. She dropped the tool and stepped back, rubbing her arms. His stature suggested he could lift her little beetle, so he could certainly over power her if he wanted to.

  “Sit in my car. It’s warm,” he told her.

  “I’m fine.”

  He picked up the tire iron, kneeled near the tire and whipped right through the nuts. Just great. She shook her head, trying to avoid watching his muscles ripple through the beige and brown sweater as he jacked up the car. However, the view was better than watching cars rush past them.

  The hem began to ride up revealing dark, taught skin. A little higher and she saw a reddish-brown spot—a birthmark maybe. It didn’t ride up far enough, but the part she saw reminded her of a tree trunk flowing upward to the bottom branches of a tree. Interesting, but she forced the curiosity aside and pulled her coat tighter under her chin. It was getting colder. Where was his coat? Didn’t the cold bother him? Drawing herself up short, she looked around and moved to sit on the nearby fire hydrant while he got his hands dirty. The last thing she should be doing is finding another man interesting.

  When he finished and set the damaged tire in her trunk, she walked to the car, dug into her purse and pulled a twenty from her wallet. She spoke as he closed the trunk, “I’m grateful you stopped and helped me out of a jam. Please, take this for your trouble. I need to get to class.”

  He looked at her with unreadable eyes. “No payment required.” He returned to his car.

  With a shrug, she glanced at her watch and rushed back to the driver’s side. She was already ten minutes late for class. Damn Rick to hell. He was going to be an ass about it, too.

  * * * *

  Cassandra rotated her neck and sighed as s
he leaned back in the chair, wondering why Rick was up there reiterating what they’d gone over in the Tax Secrets for Small Business class prior to tonight. Where was the lawyer?

  “Am I boring you, Ms. Jones?” asked Rick, who rested on the edge of the desk with his hands shoved in his pockets.

  Cassandra glared at him, wishing she’d knocked some of his teeth out then he wouldn’t be standing up there looking so smug. “As a matter of fact, yes.” Heads turned her way, but she didn’t give them a cursory glance. Instead, she said, “I was prepared for a guest speaker not reiterating what we’ve gone over. We can read our notes.” He gave her his devilish, sexy grin, but it no longer affected her.

  “I’ll recap for you, since you couldn’t be on time like everyone else. Mr. Timmons had a family emergency and will reschedule.”

  The corner of her left eye pulsated. She’d apologized for her tardiness. “And you didn’t have the foresight to go with next week’s lesson,” she mumbled as she slipped her notebook inside her briefcase. “If there’s nothing new to your spiel, I need to take care of real business.” When he didn’t respond with anything but an icy stare, she stood. “Let’s hope next week’s class is more productive.”

  Cassandra weaved in and out of the desks of the cramped room the local community college used for what they called Fun Shops. Others were following suit, but she wasn’t interested in their reasons. She opened the door and left the room, ignoring the chatter of those who followed her out.

  Exiting the building, she crossed the parking lot to her car then headed toward the exit. She slowed to go over a speed bump and a hand slapped her window startling her. Her heart jumped into her throat and her head whipped around. Rick stood there, looking all-innocent with his sexy little smile.

  “Hey, what’s with the attitude?”

  “Drop dead,” she said through the closed window and then sped away. The jackass could go screw himself, or better yet, run back to the slut. She ran her fingers through her hair. The blond strands brushed against her knuckles, bringing their soreness to the forefront of her mind. She glanced at them and could see a slight discoloration. Shit! Her grandfather’s going to have a conniption fit. He’s going to want to kill the bastard.

  * * * *

  Cassandra walked up to the pawnshop sitting in the midst of old brick-fronted shops on the South End of Peoria. She peered through the iron grate on the door. Good, her grandfather had a customer. If she were lucky, she’d get past him without him seeing the bruising and the ring gone. The last thing she wanted was to explain why the finger was bare, or worry him. She entered the shop ignoring the tinkling bell. He was showing a customer a ring so she slipped around the counter to go back to the office.

  He slid an arm around her waist, stopping her. “Tell this young man, his girl would love to have this ring.”

  She took the ring from his aging, but competent fingers, looked at it and recognized the magnificent design. He’d bought it last summer, July. “This is one of the best pieces I’ve seen come through the door.” And it’d cost her grandfather and he could use the recoup. “You won’t find another one with an essence of timelessness as this ring. There are a couple of tiny flaws which can only be seen with a jeweler’s eye, but she’d be proud to wear it.” Cassandra handed the ring to him and he took it.

  “I don’t know, ma’am. If it has flaws, she might not like it.”

  She chuckled. “Most diamonds have a minute flaw or two unless you’re talking in the thousands of dollars range. It’s a piece from one the most respected jewelers of this area,” she said while turning to grab a book from the counter along the wall behind her. Shuffling through the pages, she stopped when she came to the number sequence the ring tag indicated. “An elderly woman brought it in six months ago.” She followed the line with her manicured nail. Ok, here we go—one-carat teardrop, sterling silver, with three embedded chips on either side. Emperor Jewelers 1945.”

  “Whoa! Man! I can’t afford to buy a family heirloom.”

  “The ring lost the title when the owner sold it.”

  “Still, it’s a lot of cash,” he said, giving her back the ring.

  “Well, think about it.” She couldn’t bring herself to lie and tell him some other guy had his eye on the ring. The look on his face revealed how bad he wanted it. “We do have a layaway plan, if you’re interested.”

  “Thank you.” He turned and left.

  Her grandfather shook his head. “Why didn’t you—”

  “I couldn’t lie to him. Didn’t you see the look on his face? He wants the ring. He’ll be back, and I’m betting with a chunk of cash.” She returned the book to the shelf. “We could use this sale.” And if the guy screws around on his girl, she can bring it in and make a profit to help ease the hurt. Hell, why didn’t I think of doing the same before I tossed mine down.

  Her grandfather reached out and picked up her hand. “What happened?” he asked, looking at the red bruising.

  “Not important.” She pulled away and started to unbutton her coat.

  “Cassandra,” he said in the authoritative voice he used when she wasn’t going to get away with not answering.

  She looked up at him and saw the worry lines creasing his forehead and his blue eyes searching hers. “I broke up with Rick.”

  “He hurt you? What happened?”

  “I hurt myself on him.” Cassandra pulled her hand back when he reached out to look closer. “I’m fine.” She gave him a kiss on his lined cheek. “Really.” Picking up the day’s receipts from the box near the cash register, she told him, “Go on and lock up.”

  “Cassandra Marie, I want to know what he did to earn your fist.”

  “Please, grandpa, don’t fret. I took care of him and he’s history.”

  “Another woman?”

  “Yes,” she said after a moment, realizing another woman was exactly what had happened. “Subjects closed. I’m going to do the books then head home myself.” She walked through the curtain and down the musty hall past a closet size bathroom to the office. “And don’t forget to eat the dinner I fixed in the crock pot,” she called back to him.

  “All right, I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.

  “Night!” She reached into the dorm-size refrigerator for a Dr. Pepper and sat down at the desk, flexing her sore hand.

  Why she thought the jackass could love her when she wasn’t anybody, a lowly receptionist in his father’s finance company…Hell, if she hadn’t been so gullible and taken in by his good looks and smooth words, she might have seen the truth well before now. She was nothing more than a game he never planned to finish. Whatever reason lurked behind the façade, she didn’t care to know. However, coming to this knowledge, didn’t lesson the pain.

  Cassandra brushed a tear from her face. At least now, she knew why he wasn’t into her when it came to sex. So, why’d he even bother with her? Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them away. Now wasn’t the time, damn it!

  Twisting the cap off the bottle, she glanced around the small cubbyhole of a room. Cobwebs hung near the ceiling, dust covered everything—ick. She’d been neglecting basic housekeeping and all because she gave her time to a lying, cheating jerk. Over a year of her life she’d given him. The asshole. He’s probably been messing around on me the whole time.

  After a long burning swallow of the soda, she brushed at another tear escaping and set the bottle aside on the desk. Why couldn’t she find a good, loving, and loyal man like her grandfather? Sniffling, she pushed the mail aside, brought the ledger book over, and opened to the days date.

  One at a time, she logged in the receipts, noting he’d sold the old Gibson guitar and for the tagged price. The sale would help cover the rent for the month and maybe if the ring sold, she could install a computer to make things easier.

  Out of habit, she reached for the inventory ledgers and realized she hadn’t brought them back with her. Must have been too distracted, she decided. Her chest heaved and relaxed. She could
update the sales on the way out.

  Cassandra picked up the mail sitting in the middle of the desk and thumbed through to pull bills. There were a couple among the junk pieces, which she set aside to pay next week and discarded the unsolicited mail in the trash. The only thing left was a padded mailer. Her grandfather must have bought something off EBay and didn’t think it a priority to open much less check to make sure the item was what he’d ordered or in the condition promised.

  Odd, the envelope had her name listed as the addressee. She hadn’t ordered anything. She looked to see where it’d come from, but the return address was illegible. Staring at the writing, she tried to find a match in her memory, but nothing popped. Why would someone send her mail at the shop was strange to begin with, but who was a bigger question. Grandpa? Had he bought something for her and asked them to send it to her here? A surprise, knowing she’d go through the mail not expecting anything for herself. She sighed. He shouldn’t be spending money on her.

  With a letter opener, she sliced through the flap crease and looked inside. Whatever was inside was dark. Curious, she tipped the envelope until she felt the weight shift and the contents fell out. A black velvet pouch hit the wood desk with a thud and sounds of broken glass had her breath catching in her throat. “Oh, shit,” she whispered. There should have been a ‘fragile’ warning.

  For a moment, she stared at it, almost afraid to look. Worried she broke something irreplaceable and her grandfather would be out the cost, she picked up the pouch, unknotted the braided cord and peered inside. It was difficult to see through the darkness, but the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

  She looked around for something soft to dump it on and saw a towel on a nearby shelf and retrieved it. With it folded on the desk, she took care in emptying the pouch. Small peridot gems scattered over the towel along with an uncut chunk. Her mouth opened in shock. There’s no way her grandfather bought these and had them sent to her. He’d give her a pair of earrings, a necklace maybe, but not the gems alone.