Five Hearts Anthology
Page 1
FIVE HEARTS
Five Stories of Love and Passion
Sable Hunter
Cynthia Arsuaga
Dana Littlejohn
Daisy Dunn
Sandy Sullivan
Erotic Romance
Secret Cravings Publishing
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Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2014 © Sable Hunter, Cynthia Arsuaga,
Dana Littlejohn, Daisy Dunn, Sandy Sullivan
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A Secret Cravings Publishing Book
Erotic Romance
FIVE HEARTS – FIVE STORIES OF LOVE AND PASSION
Copyright © 2012 Cynthia Arsuaga, Dana Littlejohn, Sandy Sullivan, Daisy Dunn, Sable Hunter
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61885-197-0
First E-book Publication: February 2012
Cover design by Dawne Dominique
Edited by Stephanie Balestreri
Proofread by Ariana Gaynor
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Secret Cravings Publishing
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Marla isn't looking for love or anything else from a man. Can Marla put aside her distrust of men for a younger man? Can Chris convince her he's not like other guys?
**Hunting Jaguar, paranormal erotic romance:
Rachel Hayes' Father set out to prove the existence of the Miloni temple and the Jaguar people. Tumi is a descendant of the Miloni race and is sworn to protect their secret with his life. Will he be forced to uphold his vow at the cost of his heart and Rachel's life?
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A Hot And Spicy Valentine
by
Sable Hunter
“If there’s anything in the world wrong with that man I can’t see it.” Dorothy elbowed Riley almost knocking her off the bar stool.
“What’s supposed to be wrong with him?” Riley wasn’t up on island gossip, she had always had too many problems of her own to worry about.
“They say he can’t talk.”
After dropping that bombshell, Dorothy leaned over and started flirting with Chad, another employee of the hot sauce factory where everyone at their table worked. This was trivia night at Get Down Brown’s and Riley had been invited because she knew more useless information than anyone else at Beaucoup. No one would ask her to dance; they never had and tonight wouldn’t be any different.
Riley mulled over Dorothy’s statement. Seth Walker, the man in question, was easily the handsomest man she had ever seen. He was big and powerful looking, his back broad enough to bear the weight of the world. Riley tried to imagine what kind of a voice a man like that might have. If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear him speaking to her. His tone would be husky and warm and send shivers down her spine. Yes, it would be a shame for a voice like that to be quieted. “Not at all?” She put her hand on Dorothy’s arm to get her attention.
It took a second for her friend to realize what she was being asked. “He stutters, Riley. He stammers like your brother Bucky did.” Dorothy’s expression brightened. “Hey, maybe you could help him like you did Bucky. You ought to go offer your services. That would be one way you could put all of those classes you’ve been taking to good use.” Her friend was sincere, but Riley had been teased enough about her ambition. So, she had a lot of time on her hands. Fat girls didn’t get asked out on dates, they had to find other ways to make the hours pass.
Riley studied, puttered around her house, and fantasized about a man who would walk into her life and sweep her off her feet. So far, the studying and puttering had paid off, but the fantasies were all in her head. Taking a drink from her strawberry daiquiri, Riley realized it tasted bitter—probably because guilt accompanied every sip. She should have stuck to Diet Dr Pepper. Lord knows she didn’t need the extra calories. Considering Seth, she came to the obvious conclusion. “He’s the boss’s son. I’m sure he’s had all the medic
al attention money can buy.”
Dorothy just shrugged as if there was something she wasn’t telling.
The disc jockey, Scott, came to the microphone. Two girls hung onto him, both wearing more perfume than clothing. “We have one last question ladies and gentlemen. This is for a round of drinks.” He paused to raise suspense. “Beaucoup, as always, has won the most. That’s because of their secret weapon.” Scott looked right at her. For some reason, he had taken a dislike to Riley. They had grown up together, and for the life of her, she couldn’t determine why he hated her so. It wasn’t unusual to be teased, especially when you looked like Riley, but his animosity had gone beyond that.
His attitude toward her almost made her stay home. But tonight was about more than trivia—tonight was the big test. She was going to ask every unattached man in the place to dance—except Scott—and if no one took her up on it, she was going to take Mrs. Boone’s advice and relocate. She could still hear her kind voice. “Riley,” she had said, “you’ve lost weight and you’re beautiful. But these small town hicks will never see you any differently. If you moved to a bigger town, you’d be treated like the goddess you are.” Goddess, right. Riley didn’t expect royal treatment, all she wanted was a bit of kindness and maybe a date every once in a while.
Riley waited on the question from Scott, and when it came, she knew it was a trap. Scott looked smug and asked in a sing-song voice. “This is the season of hearts and flowers. So, let’s have a Valentine question. Who can tell me—for a round of drinks—what is a vinegar valentine?”
There was silence in the bar. Everyone from Beaucoup turned to her and she knew she couldn’t let them down—no matter how Scott chose to embarrass her. Chad and Ronny and Michael were all staring at her, waiting. Slowly she raised her hand.
“Of course, Ms. Jacobs. I knew you would have the answer. I bet you’ve received several vinegar valentines yourself. Come on up and join me, so everyone can hear your knowledgeable answer.”
Riley stood up and slowly walked to the podium like she was making her way to the gallows. Seth Walker turned and looked at her. She gave him a small smile, wondering if he knew who she was. If he didn’t already he would soon. Great! This was the story of her life. She always got to bear the brunt of someone else’s joke.
Riley took the microphone from Scott, who waited with a shit-eating grin on his face. So, she gave him the right answer. “A vinegar valentine is one that contains an insult instead of a message of affection.” Then she waited for the other shoe to drop. She didn’t have long to wait.
Talking in the condescending tone he reserved only for her, the disc jockey bellowed his announcement. “Beaucoup wins a round of drinks, everybody. And as for you, Miss Jacobs—roses are red, violets are blue, no one is fatter or uglier than you. I bet that’s the only kind of valentine you’ve ever received. Am I correct?” There it was. Scott delivered the blow so smoothly; it was obvious he had put a lot of thought into hurting her.
Riley stood there for a moment and let the words slide through her mind. Paralyzed, she knew she needed to head back to her chair, but she couldn’t make her feet move. She looked at Scott, wide-eyed, as if waiting for another punch. Even the band was between songs. No one had missed her humiliation. She heard whispers, snickers, and a few pained gasps. Mortified, Riley was about to thank him and take her leave—though her mind was still frozen—when he was hoisted off the ground and hung dangling with the tips of his boots just dragging the dusty floor.
“Need glasses, idiot?” The words were stilted and forced, but they sounded like music to Riley’s heart. Seth Walker had come to her rescue, picking up the DJ like he was a straw scarecrow. Scott kicked his legs weakly, but Seth held him aloft with ease.
Riley looked up and up at her savior, he must be at least six foot five—a formidable figure of a man. “Thank you, so much. I’m Riley Jacobs. I think I work for you. I’m the company nurse.” She held her hand out to him, in greeting.
He dropped Scott like a sack of potatoes, and the DJ staggered trying to find his footing. Seth turned, standing between Riley and the rude man like a big windbreak that could keep the coldest of winter chills at bay. Slowly, he picked up her outstretched hand, stroked a thumb across her palm and brought the back of her hand to his lips.
Riley felt the gentle caress of his kiss and she wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet.
Seth looked like he wanted to say something. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
She was about to excuse herself, but he took his other hand and began to sign.
“Can you read sign language?” At her excited nod, he continued. “Hello, Riley. It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Seth Walker. Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”
“Me?” Riley looked up at Seth, then glanced behind her. “You want to dance with me? Are you sure?”
She watched him try and form a response. His beautiful face clouded with frustration, then looked sadly resigned. “Please?” He formed the word with his fingers.
There was no way she would tell him no. Even if he was doing it because he felt sorry for her, which was most likely the case, she couldn’t run the risk of hurting his feelings. What if he were sincere? He would think she had turned him down because he had trouble speaking. “I’m not very good, but I would love to try.” A beautiful smile lit up his face and Riley was struck by how gorgeous he was. He had navy blue eyes, dark lashes, black hair and a smile that was as contagious as chicken pox. This man could have any woman he wanted, but for a few minutes he was going to belong to Riley Jacobs. This might turn out to be a Happy Valentine’s after all.
* * * *
Seth offered her his arm. What in the hell was he doing? How could he make this work? There was a reason he didn’t come to places like this. And there was a damn good reason he didn’t date beautiful girls like Riley. He seldom kept company with women, mainly because he couldn’t string enough words together to build a decent size sentence. Oh, there were always women willing to overlook his handicap because he was wealthy, but sooner or later they let their disgust shine through, not a lot of women wanted to bed a man who sounded like Mel Tillis or Porky Pig. But, paying for sex wasn’t his style, either. Unfortunately, Seth was cursed with a giant appetite for sex and not a lot of opportunities to satisfy it. Right now, his cock was awake, hard, throbbing and rarin’ to go. Little Riley was the sweetest morsel he had been this close to in many a day and if he blew this his dick might file suit on him for breach of promise.
Damn! The top of her head only came to his shoulder. She was a pint-sized Venus with more curves than a roller coaster, which was exactly what he felt like he was on. Taking over Beaucoup was a big step for him and moving back to Egret Island was a decision he had questioned more than once in the past month. Meeting a little doll like Riley could make the upheaval in his life a whole lot easier to endure.
“Thanks for rescuing me.” She stood on tiptoes and whispered in his ear as he pulled her into his embrace. The dance floor was crowded and the music was faster than he would have liked, but he intended to take advantage of the circumstances and cuddle this sweetie while he had the chance. If only he could sign and dance at the same time, but that was impossible. By the time he got through stammering in her ear, she would bid him the time of day as fast as the other women he had dared to try and date.
Hell! “Wel…Wel…Welcome.” Finally. By the time he choked out the word, he was growling at her like a bear. Reflex made him grab her closer and just for a second she stiffened, and then to Seth’s surprise, Riley sank all of those soft curves into his body like she was coming home. And when she sighed and laid her head on his chest, he knew that she could hear his heart pounding like an overeager school boy.
“This is so nice. I’ve never danced with a man before—only my broom.” He felt her giggle and all of that sweet tit flesh pushed against him. Were those her nipples he could feel? Hell yeah! Hard little buttons were pressing greedily against
his chest. He knew there was no way she was missing his cock—it was fully engaged in the situation and wanting to negotiate terms and conditions.
Seth gritted his teeth and counted to ten—forcing the words out between clenched teeth. “Good…” he grunted. “Like. Dance. You.” He frowned. Any minute now, she would excuse herself and head for the bathroom. He knew the drill.
Where was the safety of his Wall Street office where he could communicate via memo or with his computer dictation program? This was the age of texting and emails—the best time a man like him could hope to live in. He had often wished humans communicated strictly by the written word. Thanks to Harvard, he was more than proficient at expressing himself in prose. He had two college degrees to prove it.
“I like to dance with you too.”
Several people were watching them closely, and he didn’t sneer at them, but he did glance at them with dismissive authority. He knew how to be the big boss and it wasn’t too early to make his presence known in this small, reclusive island community that had been his family’s home for generations. One of his first orders of business was to make sure whatever game these people had been playing with this small doll was going to be over and through with. He had watched her all evening and when everybody was being asked to dance, she had been passed over time and time again. He hadn’t understood it. She sat there with that expectant little look of hope each time a man came to their table and when another woman—one less attractive—was led away, she had only looked resigned, not surprised. What was wrong with these people?