by Unknown
His heart on the other hand wasn't about to let go, or give up on her so easily. He had caved a few days ago and gone to her penthouse, to be informed by the doorman that she had moved and he had no forwarding information. He called her mobile phone and found that it had been disconnected. Again, no forwarding number.
Finally, this morning he had called the Lovely Ladies telephone number, just to see if she was still working. He was greeted by a message informing him that Lovely Ladies appreciated their clients’ patronage, but after ten years of service, they were closed indefinitely.
He supposed that she must have taken his advice and found a new life for herself. Considering her "’gift’, he doubted she was even Selene or Simone anymore. He'd never even know it was her if he ran into her on the street.
To his surprise, that thought upset and depressed him. Despite looking different, Selene would still be Selene, regardless of her physical appearance. Over the past month, he had spent numerous hours rationalizing this. She had been right, he had felt the connection with Simone that he had felt with Selene, but what Simone was, what she did, had turned him off. Her occupation had put Simone in the "don't progress any further category,"
Coming to the exit of the park Anthony was about to turn right and head back to his place, but something drew him to the left. He turned left and continued jogging and decided to stop and have a quick coffee at the little coffee shop at which he and Simone had originally met. He hadn't been there since that encounter and wasn't quite sure why all of a sudden he had the urge, but he went with it.
As he ran, he noticed the sky seemed to be brightening, while the wind appeared to have lost the crispness it had when he started the run an hour ago.
Ten minutes later he found himself entering the coffee shop. It was quiet, only a few patrons sitting at the tables, all couples deep in conversation. None of them even took a second look at him as he passed by, sweaty and panting. He stopped a moment, leaning over his knees to catch his breath.
Once he was finally able to breathe normally, he made his way to the counter and requested a coffee, black. Moments later, the server passed him the steamy beverage. He paid her and headed to the table he and Simone had sat at a month previously. He sat facing the door, watching people come and go from the shop as he relaxed.
He had been sitting there for roughly twenty minutes when a cute redhead that he would guess to be in her mid-twenties, came into the shop. She wore a tight fitting knit green turtleneck and a black pleated skirt, which fell to mid thigh. He wouldn't consider her thin, but healthy. She had a fresh look about her. He liked it. It had surprised him when he realized, just at that moment, that she was the first woman he’d felt an attraction for since Simone-Selene.
He normally wasn't much for red-heads, but he found himself captivated by the bouncing red spirals that cascaded halfway down her back. As she came closer, heading for the counter to place her order, he couldn't help noticing her emerald-coloured eyes. They sparkled as she placed her order with the server.
He continued to watch as she threw her head back, laughing at something the server behind the counter had said. Her laughter was light and infectious. He found himself smiling despite himself.
As if realizing she was being watched, the woman turned her head and caught his gaze. She smiled, at him then turned back to the server. Paying the girl behind the counter, the redhead turned and began walking towards him.
Shit! His heart raced as he thought: Of all the times to meet a woman, it has to be when I'm covered in sweat!
"Is this seat taken?" she asked. Not waiting for a reply she seated herself across from him.
He found himself praying he'd used enough antiperspirant. Running a hand through his hair he smiled back and shook his head.
She extended her hand to him, "I'm Gwen."
"Anthony," he took her small hand in his. Her hand was soft and smooth. Now that she was closer to him, he noticed faint freckles running across the bridge of her nose. Reluctantly, he released her hand.
"So what do you do Anthony?" She asked taking a tentative sip from her beverage. When he hesitated, she continued: "When of course you're not training for what appears to be a marathon."
"I'm in advertising."
She nodded. "I used to know someone in advertising. He was really great at what he did."
"I run each morning for an hour through central park, you're welcome to join me sometime."
She curled her nose up at him, as she shook her head. "Thanks, but I hate running."
He nodded. The tension. There was an intense tension between them that was all too familiar to him. His smile widened. "Do you mind if I ask you a bold question?"
She cocked her head to the side as if analyzing him then gave him a coy smile. "Ask and maybe I'll answer."
He smiled, "fair enough."
She shrugged in response.
"Have you ever been in love Gwen?" He placed his elbows on the table, and leaned closer to her, waiting for the answer. His stomach did flip flops as he waited. He had a sneaking suspicion about this woman. Good old instincts are working in full swing today.
She sat back in her chair, eyeing him as she folded her arms over her ample breasts. She chewed on her bottom lip timidly. When she spoke, her voice was soft and her words tore at his heart. "I was. Once. In another life. Until I met him, I had no idea what love was. It was short, but intense. If you know what I mean."
He did know what she meant.
Anthony looked deep into her eyes. She looked very different, but there was no mistaking what lay behind her eyes, wisdom beyond her years. There was also certainly no mistaking the mysterious pull, which drew them together in the first place.
He nodded then stood walking over to her side of the table. Reaching down he took hold of her hands and pulled her to her feet. They stood, so close their bodies were nearly touching, their lips mere inches apart.
Anthony could swear that he could hear the cracking of the energy between them. His heart thumped so loudly in his chest he was sure that Gwen would be able to hear it.
He reached out and cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her face up so he could look into her stunning green eyes. "Do you love him still?"
She placed her palms on his chest. "I'll love him always," she confirmed.
"You have no idea how much I was hoping to hear that," he whispered as he lowered his head, his lips touching hers in a light caress.
As the patrons looked on, while pretending not to be watching, Anthony pulled Gwen into his arms, yet again, for the first time.
The End
About The Author
Elixa Everett - Elixa spent the past couple years ghostwriting for various erotica companies. In late 2010, she decided it was time to start writing the type of stories she prefers to read and write about. Supernatural romance and erotica.
In Elixa's stories you will find cocky vampires, sexy djinn, powerful shifters and everything and anything else that goes "bump in the night."
** Bookstrand indie bestselling paranormal author
** All Romance bestselling paranormal author
** Works translated into three languages
Website - www.elixaeverett.com
Twitter - Elixa Everett
Email - [email protected]
Wanted by the Alphas by Dawn Steele
An Extremely Sensual Paranormal Shifter Romance
Copyright © 2013, Dawn Steele – All Rights Reserved.
All Rights Reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is strictly prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.
THE CLIFFS
The weather delivers its promise.
The coast of Orego
n is well-known for its unpredictability, and the sky has proven just that. Rain slants from west to east and falls unbroken for the past hour. The sky itself is the color of a bruise, and the clouds break apart with thunder.
“Slow down,” Shannon cautions. She is hanging onto the armrest and passenger door handle of the Toyota for dear life.
On her right side, she can see the ocean with its stormy, spraying waves. They must be five feet high at least, she reckons. One false swerve and the Toyota could plunge off the cliff road and into that awful, roaring abyss. She can only imagine all those rocks down there, with teeth that could gnash the metal body of the Toyota and the soft bodies inside.
“I know what I’m doing, so lay off, OK, Shan?”
The driver is grim, determined. His handsome mouth is set in a flat cast. He has been doing sixty on this slippery coastal road for the past hour or so. The windshield wipers struggle to keep up with the downpour, and she can barely see ten feet of road before them. Of course, he has far better eyesight than her due to his enhanced senses. She can only imagine the distances he can see with his sharp, sharp eyes.
Even in good weather, the narrow coastal road overlooking the Pacific would be difficult to navigate. Now everything is a blur – a horrible grey slate. It is as if she has vanished in a fog of a netherworld.
The road is separated from the sheer drop to the ocean below by only a thin, grassy verge. Gravel and debris pelt the underside of the tire rims. Her seatbelt is strapped tightly against her chest. Her breasts are quashed in their brassiere cups – a most uncomfortable enterprise.
“At least turn on your headlights,” she pleads.
“I can see the road, Shan. Shut up and let me concentrate.”
“It’s not what you can see. It’s for the other cars to see where you’re coming from. Slow down or you’ll hurl both of us over the cliff!”
He is reckless, she knows. He has always been reckless for as long as she has known him. It comes with his birthright – of who and what he is. He can’t help being reckless any more than a leopard can help having spots.
No one else is out in this weather, she thinks. No one else is foolish enough.
He looks over to her. He has piercing dark eyes, in contrast to her soft lilac ones. They are unalike physically as light and day. She is raven-haired. He has auburn locks. They don’t even think alike even though they have cohabitated in the same house for over ten years.
The screeching of wheels against asphalt arrests her attention. From the other side of the road, a white Mercedes veers onto their path.
“Jared!” Shannon screams.
“Fuck!” He twists the steering wheel, and the tires of their vehicle skid.
It is an awful squealing sound, like a thousand fingernails on a chalkboard. Her eardrums are splitting from the sound, and if her hands weren’t clutching at whatever they can clutch at, she would have put her hands onto her ears to shield them.
Please, don’t let me die, she begs as she closes her eyes tightly.
She braces herself for the collision.
And waits.
One.
Two.
Three.
When it doesn’t come, she opens her frightened eyes. Jared is still at the wheel, and looking none the worse for the wear – meaning that he isn’t slumped over the steering wheel with blood trickling from his forehead like she expected. The car hasn’t smashed onto the cliff wall, nor has it plunged into the ocean on the other side.
The blurry road is still ahead. She can’t be sure, of course, in this vague greyness, but they may be facing the other direction from whence they came from. This means the car has taken a hundred-and-eighty degree spin.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jared curses, thumping his palms on the steering wheel. “I’ll get that motherfucker. I’ll wring his neck so hard that he won’t know what choked him.”
“Please, Jared.” She is disorientated. Trying to get her bearings back. The last thing she wants is road violence.
And of course . . . the other.
She can see the white Merc a short distance away from them. It is also at an unnatural angle to the road, suggesting that it too has skidded and ground to a halt. She hopes no one in it has been hurt.
The driver’s door of the white Merc opens. A figure comes out into the pelting rain.
Jared growls and unclasps his seatbelt. It snaps back to its moorings with a sharp crack.
“Please, Jared, don’t fight!” she begs him. “It was an accident, nothing more.”
Jared wrenches open the car door. The howling wind immediately pours in, dipping the temperature in the car a good twenty degrees. Goose bumps pop up on her suddenly exposed skin. Oh Gad, but it’s cold!
“Jared!”
But it’s no use. He is headstrong, as always, and he has gone into the wind and rain to confront the Merc driver. Knowing Jared, there will be a fight. And the driver might be from this new community they are going to. What’s the point of antagonizing people from a small town you are going to try living in?
Where the hell else can they both go?
Jared is a shape out there in the elements, and from the gesticulations of his arms, he is having an argument with the driver.
Shit.
Wrenching the passenger door handle, Shannon bolts out into the rain. The wind immediately seizes her hair and the rain comes down in torrents upon her head. Her teeth start to chatter as she runs as quickly as she can in her high heels to the arguing pair.
“Jared!” The wind tears her words from her lips and hurtles it onto the cliffs.
The driver of the white Merc sizes her up. It is a horrible situation to be out in the cold and rain, and it is probably not the most conducive environment for a discussion on whose car cut whose off first, but she manages to note that the driver is a young man.
A very young man, probably not much older than her.
The rain obscures much of her vision, but she can see how muscled his exposed forearms are, and how tightly he is built underneath his soaked shirt. His wet face is handsome as well, with a rugged cast to his clean-shaven jaw and plastered blond hair. He is extremely tall. Far taller than Jared. She would put his height to be above six feet five inches.
“So you’re both OK,” the driver shouts above the din. “That’s all there is to it. Don’t you go accusing me of cutting into your lane when you knew you were driving well above the speed limit on that bend.”
She hugs her thin coat closer to her chest.
“We should get out of here,” she says. “There might be cars coming down on either lane and we’re blocking their path.”
“I’m not accusing you of something you didn’t do, buddy.” Jared jabs a finger on the guy’s chest.
Uh oh.
The guy bridles, expectedly.
“Did you just touch me?” he demands.
“Please!” she shouts again. She wonders if any of them can hear her. “Don’t let us fight here. If we must sort this out, let’s go somewhere warm and dry and safe!”
The man looks at her again, as if evaluating her words.
“Stay out of this, Shannon,” Jared says curtly.
She bristles at this. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
The man seems amused.
He says, “Your girlfriend seems to be making the most sense of all of us. We can settle this at Pine’s Bluff twenty miles down the road, or we can forget about it and move on with our lives.”
The way he is looking at her makes her think he doesn’t want to forget about it at all. In fact, he is half-smiling at her, as if he is thinking that it would be nice to carry on this conversation with her.
She finds herself saying, “I’m not his girlfriend!”
“Oh?” The man smiles quizzically.
She holds her breath. He is very attractive. But remember, you are not here to start a new relationship. You are here for a specific reason.
“We’ll see you at Pine’s Bluff,” Jared blusters
.
She is amazed that no vehicle has come by as yet. Imagine – if they were to go over the cliff – there would be no one who’d know for ages and ages.
“Yeah, I’ll see you there.” The man’s gaze lingers on her and she feels a delicious thrill despite the super-wet conditions.
They all return to their respective cars. The Merc is the first to pull away.
“Fucker,” Jared says grimly. “He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.”
Both of them are soaked to their skins, and she is shivering.
“Jared . . . you are not going to start this. No one can know who we are here.”
“I know, I know.” He sees her shuddering violently and relents. “Let’s get off this road and go to Pine’s Bluff, wherever the hell it is. Then let’s get out of these clothes.”
It’s the wisest thing he has said all day and she warms to the suggestion.
“Remember not to draw attention to ourselves,” she cautions.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes.
She knows she nags him sometimes, but with Jared, you have to say the same thing over and over to pound it through to his thick skull.
They rev off into the rain, which is lessening, thank goodness. It is as though the sky has decided to give them all a respite.
And now they have to find Pine’s Bluff, wherever the hell it is. She seriously hopes Jared is not going to make a scene.
PINE’S BLUFF
They pass a sign welcoming them to ‘Dolphin’s Bay’, though Shannon doubts any dolphins have come up to Oregon’s coastline, as inhospitable as it is. A painting of a deep blue dolphin splashing out of the waves accompanies this sign. Maybe there’s a real dolphin mascot somewhere in the aquatic zoo here, she can’t tell. If the place even has an aquatic zoo.
She knows this is a small town after all. POPULATION: 23,000. Isn’t that what Google said?
