Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors

by Milly Taiden

  Cursing him under her breath for his audacity, she tucked the outfit back into the tissue, put the lid on the box, and carried it into the back.

  He could make all the suggestive overtures he wanted. She certainly wasn't about to entertain the idea of going away with him. What she loathed more than anything was the little ache of want that lingered long after opening the gift. Not just the want to feel his arms and his lips and his presence, but the want to go on the yacht, to live carefree and happy for a few days. To see new sights, enjoy a new climate. It was almost cruel, she thought, to tempt her with such things. Tears rolled down her cheeks, both in anger and in misery. She missed him, wanted him, needed him. And absolutely could not have him.

  Slapping out a new batch of dough, she attacked it with fervor, determined to knead it into oblivion. In the back of her mind, only one thought kept rising to the surface, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it: Ahsan.

  *

  “If the flowers didn't mean anything, Anna doesn't know why it's so hard to throw them away. They've been dead three days,” Anna pointed out.

  Sessily stood near the trash behind the display cases, clutching the wilting stems of the now brittle roses. The petals sagged like the tongues of desert dwellers desperate for water. She knew hovering near the trash would bring a comment from Anna, who didn't disappoint.

  “I know. They're just...” Sessily wasn't sure what she wanted to say. She had a crazy desire to pull at least one flower from the bunch to press between the pages of a book. That was a whimsical desire in remembrance of a man who didn't deserve the thought.

  “What are you not telling Anna?”

  “Nothing.” Sessily dropped the bouquet into the trash, wiped her hands on her apron, and grabbed a tray of pastries from the counter to start loading into the display case. If Anna had found out about the yacht and the beach attire, Sessily would never hear the end of it. The questions would go on for days.

  Anna grunted, confirming she didn't believe a word Sessily said.

  Two weeks and three days after arriving home, Sessily still felt awkward in her work routine. All the motions were the same, the faces of customers familiar, and yet she experienced a restlessness that hadn't been there before. As if she should be doing something else, somewhere else. And she couldn't get her mind off the damn invitation. Often, she considered Ahsan's reaction to her not showing up at the air strip. Had he been there, waiting? Or had he just sent the plane to take her to Greece and eventually the yacht, where he would be lounging like a lion, waiting for her arrival?

  Brushing a wayward strand of hair from her temple with the side of her wrist, she set the last pastry in the case and closed the display door.

  “Oh, look at that,” Anna said in a low voice.

  “What?” Sessily asked without looking up. She had cream cheese filling on her apron along with a dusting of flour, which she tried to clean off with a paper towel.

  Silence drew Sessily's gaze to Anna, and then to the windows. Beyond the clear panes, a black limousine had pulled across three parking spaces and come to an idling stop. The vehicle looked obscenely out of place with the backdrop of the quaint stores on the other side of the street. A few pedestrians stared; one or two others put their heads together to whisper.

  It was a bold move, taking up that much space.

  Alarm bells went off in Sessily's head as the driver came around and opened the back door. She stood frozen, a crumpled paper towel in hand, eyes wide as an occupant emerged.

  Ahsan stood on the sidewalk under the awning to the bakery, fingers adjusting the button on the front of an immaculate suit. Black and white pinstripe, with a white shirt thrown open at the throat. He wore dark glasses over his eyes and a platinum watch that probably cost more than most automobiles.

  “Agh, he's coming in, he's coming in! Hurry, wipe down the cases, clean the tables! Sweep!” Anna went into a frenzy of motion, trying to do ten things at once. As if any amount of cleaning and straightening could compete with such an obvious high roller.

  Sessily experienced an onslaught of emotion: lust, relief, anger, suspicion. She couldn't move even when he opened the door and stepped in. All at once, the bakery seemed tiny. Impossibly crowded and overflowing with Ahsan's presence. These four walls were not nearly big enough to contain all that he was. He brought the scent of some expensive, masculine cologne with him and the studied ease of motion that all predators exhibited.

  “Welcome to Anna's Bakery! What can Anna get you? Please, make yourself at home.” Anna swept the floor with brisk strokes, set the broom down and bustled over to a table to dash a cloth across the surface.

  Sessily didn't have the heart to inform Anna that Ahsan probably didn't speak Romanian. She tracked his progress through the room, around the end of the display case—as if he owned the place—and right up to her. She heard Anna grunt in surprise.

  Wadding up the paper towel, she tossed it down without looking where it landed. He was larger than life in ways she hadn't experienced before, and she suffered an acute bout of embarrassment that he should see her like this. Covered in flour, disheveled, and wearing an apron. Anger returned in force, and before she could stop herself, her hand flew up to make contact with his whiskered cheek. His head only moved an inch from the slap.

  “Sessily! What are you doing?” Anna gasped in horror.

  To Sessily's surprise, Ahsan smiled. A slow curve that made his appearance that much more devastating.

  “You didn't show up,” he said, sounding as casual as if they were discussing the weather.

  “I know him, Anna,” Sessily said in her native tongue. She didn't miss the way Ahsan's gaze narrowed, picking up on some subtle clue. Then to Ahsan, she said, “And I can't believe you expected me to show up.”

  “I thought you wanted to see the Greek Islands.”

  The nerve. The utter nerve of this man. Her fingers twitched to slap him again, but she wasn't typically the type to strike anyone, and instinct told her that he wouldn't allow it to happen anyway. She wished he would just back up five steps. Give her room to breathe. To think.

  “I can't believe you,” she retorted. “Aren't you too busy running a country to meet women in clandestine locations?”

  “I'm an excellent multitasker. And you should let me worry about what work I have, and don't have.” He took a step closer.

  Sessily jutted a hand out, making contact with his chest. The warmth of his skin seeped through the shirt and into her palm. “Don't.”

  “Don't what?”

  “Don't come closer. Don't try and...seduce me. I won't fall for it.” Again, she thought, but didn't dare say.

  Anna stood on the other side of the room, struggling to decipher the English words, one hand over her heart. Sessily knew the woman only had a rudimentary knowledge of the language, and for that she was grateful.

  Like a striking viper, he snaked a hand low around her back and pulled her hard up against his body. “Really.”

  “How dare you,” she hissed, finally losing her temper. The wonderful, hard contours of his chest felt heavenly under her hand, as much as it galled her to acknowledge it. “Sending me gifts, inviting me to your yacht. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “I'm not sure why,” he drawled. Then he said, “Your accent isn't as strong as Anna's. I find that curious.”

  Leave it to him to pick up on the smallest thing. “Because I grew up in Southern California for ten years of my life. My mother was American. We moved back here when I was ele—why am I telling you this? Release me right now.”

  He tipped his head down. Closer. “Your mouth tells me one thing, and your eyes tell me another. Which is the truth, I wonder.”

  “That I want you to let me go. That's the truth.” She wanted to kiss him. Wanted to melt against him, feel all his heat and strength and the muscles beneath the fine suit. Her body betrayed her, arching into his, fingers curling against his chest.

  “You want me to let you go, yet you're
doing everything you can to crawl into my skin,” he pointed out. “Tell me why I shouldn't be here. Tell me why, Sessily, you think you don't want me here.”

  “Do I really need to say it? Do I need to remind you that you're married, that I find the idea of some clandestine meeting in Greece with you repulsive? I won't do that to another woman.” Saying the words out loud made the situation more real. More devastating. He was committed, and even if he didn't honor his vows, she would.

  He reached up to pull his sunglasses off. Staring down at her, he tucked the glasses into his front pocket, a frown marring his brow. “Were you snooping outside the conference room?”

  “Why are you trying to distract me? I wasn't snooping, I was...listening.”

  “Eavesdropping. Snooping. Same thing.”

  “Yet you don't deny it.”

  “I was busy for a moment realizing the woman I'm in love with has a problem with nosiness.”

  Sessily gasped. Had he just said he loved her? “What?”

  “I was busy for a moment--”

  “I heard you! How can you be in love with me and married to someone else?” she demanded.

  “That's because I'm not married to anyone else.”

  “But I heard the Emir--”

  “You heard the Emir try to brow beat me into doing what he wants me to do. I have other plans, none of which include marriage to a woman I don't love. Nor am I seeing anyone else. Does that clear things up?” He arched a brow, almost as if to challenge her.

  A thrill shot through Sessily. He wasn't married. And didn't plan on being married, at least not to that woman in the palace. “You won't be forced to do what he says?”

  “No. I'm the Emir, I hold the title. It's what I've spent the last two weeks dealing with, and why I couldn't be here before now. I'm not nearly done with all that needs doing in my home country, but this couldn't wait any longer.”

  “And what of your status as the man no woman can catch? I heard all about you and your playboy ways. No woman can hold your heart—that's what I was told. How am I supposed to engage in anything with you when I know your attention will stray. Probably within weeks?” It was an issue for Sessily. He had a reputation, and she didn't expect him to stop doing what he'd been doing for years just for her.

  “You're going to have to trust me. Besides, if I can convince you I'm worth having,” he said with an arrogant twist of his mouth, “we'll be very busy the next few months.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Greece is only the first stop. We'll cruise the islands, then pay a visit to Cairo. Would you like to tour the pyramids? And then I thought we could spend some time in Monaco. I'll take you on dazzling dates at all the best restaurants and you can tell me more about living between the United States and Romania. Where in all that would I find time to see other women?”

  She could hardly wrap her mind around it all. Ahsan was offering her a dream. Traveling, going on real dates in exotic locations, and getting to know one another on a much more intimate level. Learning each other's quirks and idiosyncrasies. “You could find time, I'm sure.”

  “What if I told you I don't want to see other women? Would that convince you?”

  Stunned by his offer of travel and romance, Sessily considered his question after a moment to bring her head out of the clouds. She held his gaze, reading the intensity and honesty there. “It might. Did you just say you loved me?”

  He smiled, and the effect was devastating on his face. “I said I was in love with you, yes.”

  Sessily struggled to absorb it all. She wanted to throw her arms around him and agree, yet a part of her still couldn't believe it was real.

  “You hesitate,” he said after another minute of silence.

  “I know. I'm thinking.” For the first time, she detected a flicker of concern in his eyes. As if she'd surprised him in return, though not the kind of surprise he'd been hoping for. “This is a big step. I'd be giving up my job here, and leaving my sister. If...if things didn't work out between us--”

  “I'll see you're well cared for until you decide what you want to do. I have a feeling your job here will always be available if you want it,” he said, interrupting. “Relationships take patience and honesty and a willingness to forgive. I'm willing to make whatever sacrifices are necessary to give this a shot. Are you?”

  Again, she hesitated. All he was asking her to do was spend some time with him, have fun. Learn more about him personally. What was she so afraid of?

  “I'll tell you what,” Ahsan said, brushing a kiss to her cheek. “You think about it. My plane leaves in two hours from the private airstrip in town. If you show up, we'll go. If you don't, I'll know this isn't for you, that I'm not for you, and we'll leave it at that.”

  Sessily clutched the front of his fine shirt, then smoothed it out with her palm. A sliver of panic worked its way in when he slowly unwound his arm from her waist. He was giving her what she needed—time to make a decision. It felt both right and wrong at the same time.

  “All right. That's fair,” she finally said.

  He cupped her cheeks in his calloused hands, and bent to touch a tender kiss on her lips. “Two hours, Sessily. Don't be late.”

  Without another word, he released her and departed the shop with ground-eating strides. On his way, he gave Anna a roguish smile and a quick wink, sending the baker into a flurry of motion.

  “Good day! Anna says come back soon!” Anna watched anxiously out the windows, then turned a curious, suspicious eye on her employee.

  Rooted to the spot he'd left her, Sessily touched her lips, still warm from his kiss. She understood the things Ahsan hadn't said, too. That if she was late, if his plane left without her, he wouldn't be coming back. He wouldn't chase her, wouldn't beg. A man like Ahsan didn't have to beg.

  “Heavens and Saints, Sessily. What in the world is going on?” Anna whispered.

  Sessily watched the limousine pull away from the curb, freeing up the parking spots in front of the shop. Resisting the urge to run down the street after the car, she glanced at Anna.

  “He loves me,” she confessed. “He loves me, and wants to take me on proper dates. He wants to travel with me, show me the world.”

  Anna's mouth fell open. “When did all this happen? Tell Anna—do you love him? Is that why you hesitate?”

  And that, Sessily realized, was her problem. Did she love Ahsan? Her emotions were muddled and hazy. She wasn't sure what she was feeling, and it threw her off.

  “I don't know. I don't know—and I only have two hours to figure it out.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty

  Ahsan raked a hand through his hair. This part of the Romanian countryside was a lovely mix of low mountains, rolling green meadows, and stands of thick trees. He saw none of it while he stared out the window on the way to the airstrip. He'd taken a big gamble, coming here. By sending Sessily little reminders and clues. Admitting he loved her hadn't been the most scary part of it all—what had been scary was the thought that she didn't return his feelings.

  And it looked very much like she didn't reciprocate his love.

  The last two weeks had made him realize how much he missed her, and wanted her in his life. Their banter, teasing, and serious conversations were different than what he usually shared with other women. He felt alive around Sessily in ways he hadn't before. She challenged him and didn't put up with his antics. Sometimes he thought she was as headstrong as he. But he couldn't force her to love in return, and the idea of having to move on from here—without her—wasn't a pleasant one. He would do it because that's the kind of man he was, but he wasn't looking forward to it.

  For the rest of his life, he would remember the woman with auburn hair and blue eyes. The one that got away. The only one he'd ever wanted to keep.

  *

  Opening the door to the small, one bedroom apartment above a bookstore, Sessily tossed her keys on a small table just inside and scanned the tiny living room for Iris. The apart
ment was a study in used furniture, crocheted blankets and hand-me-down décor. Shabby chic, she thought some people called it.

  “You're home early,” Iris said, glancing up from a textbook. She sat on the lone, worn out sofa, legs stretched across the cushions.

  Closing the door, Sessily leaned against it, hands trapped behind her body. Iris was well on the mend these days, her bruises gone, the haunted look finally fading from her eyes. She had taken up studying again, not yet ready to go back to work.

  “Ahsan came to the shop. He came to see me,” Sessily said, cutting straight to the chase.

  Iris glanced up, blonde hair made paler by the afternoon sunlight streaming in a window. “What for?”

  “He's been sending me little...gifts. Over the last week.”

  “What kind of gifts?” Iris frowned and closed the textbook.

  “Flowers, a little miniature replica of a yacht, and an invitation to join him on that yacht that I ignored.”

  “Why didn't you tell me before now? What did he want today?”

  “Because I thought it might remind you and upset you. And because I was angry at him,” Sessily confessed. She rubbed her forehead with her fingers, aware of every second ticking off her internal clock. Counting down to zero. Counting down to goodbye.

  “He followed through on his word and got us home safe and sound. I know he's not like...his brother. But thanks for thinking of my feelings,” Iris said. “Why were you angry?”

  “I thought he got married. The last thing I heard was his father tell him he had to marry a woman of their culture, that it would go a long way to ease the public's mind about Ahsan's reign. So I was angry that he kept sending me things. I thought he wanted a secret tryst away from prying eyes, hiding it from his wife.”

  “But he didn't?”