An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Scarlet Woman
ISBN # 1-4199-0312-8
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Scarlet Woman Copyright© 2005 Shelley Munro
Edited by Mary Moran.
Cover art by Syneca.
Electronic book Publication: November 2005
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Warning:
The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. Scarlet Woman has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).
S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.
E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.
X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.
Scarlet Woman
Shelley Munro
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Cinderella: Disney Enterprises, Inc.
Chapter One
“Please stop staring at me.” Emily Scarlet grimaced at Maggie, her sister-in-law and best friend. She scanned the faces in the line leading to the marquee, concentrating on the male ones before turning back to Maggie. “I checked my makeup in my compact mirror five minutes ago. I know I haven’t colored outside the lines so quit with the bulging eyes. It’s not attractive. Don’t you want to catch a man?” Emily’s hips swayed in time to the catchy beat of the song the band played and mentally checked off the faces while eagerness built. No. No. Possibly…
“I can’t help it,” Maggie muttered. “You look so different.” Her eyes were full of confusion as she checked out Emily’s radically changed appearance. Emily knew she looked different. Better. The vision she’d seen in the bedroom mirror this evening still had the power to surprise her. The sexy, layered haircut and the new golden highlights that shot Emily from mousy to head-turning. The figure-hugging red dress that ended mid-thigh and showcased Emily’s recent weight loss. The strappy black heels that made her legs appear long and toned. The blue contact lenses to correct her shortsightedness. And the breasts that were pushed up and out by the incredible strapless bra she wore.
Maggie’s brow crinkled in distress. “You’re not the Emily Scarlet I know. I don’t think Michael—”
“Michael is dead.”
Pain darkened Maggie’s face. “It’s only been six months. Don’t you think you should take some more time before you make changes?”
Emily bit back the cutting reply that leapt to the tip of her tongue. Michael had cheated. He’d lied. The morning of the car accident, Michael had told her he intended to leave her for his secretary. Boring little Emily didn’t compare favorably with the glamorous Tessa. Too frumpy. Too predictable for Michael’s taste. He hadn’t even given her a chance! Impotent anger grew when she replayed the painful scene. Emily gripped her black clutch bag so tightly the box of condoms inside buckled beneath the pressure of her fingers and the cellophane wrapping gave a telltale crackle. She relaxed her grip and inhaled slowly, trying to push away the ugly past.
Bottom line. He hadn’t loved her.
Emily fixed a smile on her mouth. She didn’t want to argue with Maggie or blurt out the truth about Michael in a burst of temper. Not after keeping quiet and protecting the family’s illusions for all this time. They had loved Michael, and she wasn’t about to hurt the people she cared for even if their son and brother was a dirty, cheating scumbag. She’d suffered enough for them all.
Emily spied a tall, dark-haired man standing with a group just inside the flower-bedecked marquee. Her gaze strolled the length of his body, coming to rest on a very touchable butt. She sighed with appreciation and wished he’d turn around so she could check the whole package. He remained standing with his ass pointing in her direction. Delectable. She put him on her mental list and glanced back at Maggie. “Coming to Middlemarch is about having fun.”
The line moved forward and Emily tugged two tickets from the depths of her clutch bag before draping the long strap over her shoulder.
“It’s all about sex,” Maggie snapped. “They have a shortage of women in Middlemarch. I’ve read the papers. This isn’t a dance. It’s a meat market.”
“Yeah, great, isn’t it?” Emily chuckled, attracting the attention of the same group of men she’d just ogled. She winked at them before turning back to Maggie. “You didn’t have to come with me. I told you I was happy to come on my own. I promised to turn into a pumpkin at midnight, catch the train back to Dunedin and stumble into a taxi at the other end, tired and all danced out like a good Cinderella. But you insisted on coming. The least you can do is enjoy yourself. Dance. Let your hair down. Come on, you know you love to dance.”
“I don’t know you in this mood. You’ve changed.”
Laughing, Emily gave Maggie a quick, reassuring hug. “I’m just the same. And tonight we’ll dance the night away with some cute country boys before heading back to the big, bad city. Okay?” She handed over their tickets with a bright smile toward the elderly woman sitting behind the wooden desk at the entrance to the marquee. Maggie was right. She had changed. She wasn’t the same doormat Michael had walked all over before discarding. No longer the little homemaker. The drudge.
This Scarlet woman planned on having a little fun.
“Oh, man. Look at the tits on her.” Felix made kissing noises deep in his throat. “I’ve died and gone to heaven. Oh, man. She winked. Yep, heaven.”
Sly thumped his brother on the back. “Don’t think it’s heaven, bro. Can’t be with all that sinful lust shining on your face.”
“Cut it out, the pair of you,” Saber said, trying to scowl his boisterous younger brothers into obedience. Despite laying down the law this afternoon, the four were out of control. He had to get them settled before one of their harmless pranks boiled over into something that threatened them all.
“Yeah, gotta remember, this is punishment,” Leo chided, humor dancing in his dark eyes.
Joe let out a low whistle. “I vote the lady in red administers my punishment.”
Saber relaxed a fraction. Good. His plan was working already. If he managed to get each of his brothers mated, they’d cut out the mischievous shenanigans and settle down to raise a litter or two. And he wouldn’t have to worry about articles in the paper like the one he’d seen last month.
Black panther sighted again.
At least the article had lit a match under the council elders. Finally. Agreement that they needed to do something to help the younger males settle. Saber’s mouth firmed in introspection as he recalled the heated meet
ing. The council had discussed the lack of females of marriageable age. They knew the causes—the feline families tended to have male offspring while the human females seemed to enjoy the lifestyle offered in the city of Dunedin or farther afield. They attended high school and university in the city and never returned to their birthplace. The human males left too, but they tended to return after exploring a little of the world outside Middlemarch. Until the reporter’s story had appeared, no one had tried to solve the problem of a lopsided gender ratio. The article in the paper had been the catalyst. They’d all swung into action to organize a dance they hoped would benefit both the young shifter and human males living in Middlemarch. The task they’d called impossible suddenly became imperative.
Saber eyed Felix and Leo, the brothers standing closest to him, feeling the tension brought about by responsibility coalesce into a solid lump in his chest. They both strenuously denied taking part in the prank, but Saber wasn’t so sure. He knew his brothers—where there was fun to be had, they were in the thick of it.
Felix nudged Sly. “Big bro’s looking serious. He’s got Mission Mate on his mind again.”
Joe leaned closer and whispered, “Can’t have shape shifters roaming around Middlemarch for the humans to see.”
“Enough,” Saber snapped. His brothers sobered, knowing they’d pushed him far enough tonight. Dammit, he had to find them mates. It was too late for him. But not for them. None of his brothers remembered how it had been between their parents. They’d been too young when they died, but Saber remembered how they’d laughed and played together, how they’d made everything seem like a game, even the work on the farm. Yes, he remembered the intimacy between his parents, and that’s what he wanted for his four brothers.
“Look, we said we’d go along with this plan,” Felix said. “We’ll give it a shot. Me first. Introduce me to the lady in red.”
The lady in red.
The second brother to mention her. Curiosity piqued, Saber turned to check out the view. His breath stalled until the tight vise around his lungs reminded him to breathe. Saber inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring, feline genes kicking in.
He wanted the lady in red.
But that wasn’t the purpose of this shindig. Saber consciously relaxed, telling himself she was too obvious. The invitation a little blatant for his taste, but she might spark the urge to mate in one of his brothers. “Fine. We’re next in line for introductions anyway.” He watched one of the elders walk up to the lady in red and offer his arm. The lady smiled, and Saber adjusted his thoughts. A touch of vulnerability flitted across her pale face before she answered a question posed by the elder. Wistfulness. Hope. She treated the elder with courtesy and respect, earning points from Saber. He’d noticed the impatience of some of the other women waiting to enter the marquee. Excitement jumped in him. This plan would work. The lady in red would make a fine sister-in-law.
The elder led her toward him and his brothers. Saber indicated Felix with a jerk of his head, but the elder stopped in front of him.
“May I present Joanna Scarlet?” the elder said. “This is Saber Mitchell.”
“Just call me Jo,” the lady in red murmured, her voice a low, sensual hum that speared through him, winding his stomach in knots of desire and lust and uncharacteristic possessiveness. Her attractive floral scent reminded him of old-fashioned flowers and herbs. Maybe a touch of vanilla. It seeped deep into his lungs, drawing him in like a helpless insect. Saber sighed. His Scarlet woman. If his brothers didn’t stop with the leering, he was going to smack some manners into them. Whoa…his?
She studied them all with frank interest and nodded when the elder introduced his brothers. Shock finally yielded to common sense and the voice of reason. Saber saw Joanna—call me Jo—was chatting to another elder and a plump dark-haired girl who had stopped at their side. “Okay, boys. You’ve had your joke. How much did they pay you, Sid?”
The elder offered a gentle but determined smile and spoke in a low undertone so the lady didn’t hear. “Lad, you need a mate. This one is for you.”
A protest formed in Saber. He didn’t have a destined mate. And he’d accepted his fate to travel through life alone when his search during his younger days had turned up nothing but entertaining sexual partners. The elder was wrong. Wasn’t he? He glanced at Joanna Scarlet and battled the bolt of lust that zapped the length of his body again. Beneath his trousers, his cock stirred with definite interest. Every sense jumped to hyper-alert. He smelled her delicate floral perfume and the underlying feminine scent specific to her. Heard her slow, steady breaths. Saber could practically feel her body pressed against his. She called to him on every level. Pushing aside the panicked, out-of-control sensation, he aimed for nonchalance. Oh, yeah. He couldn’t deny he was interested, but what if it was a false alarm? What if he was disappointed again? Saber answered his own question with a silent grunt. He’d pick himself up and carry on. That’s what he’d do. That’s what he always did.
“Not frightened of the little lady, are you, Saber?” A clear taunt colored Felix’s whispered words. When Saber glanced at his other brothers, he saw amusement and unholy glee. Ambushed. In his own trap.
Saber turned to Jo, accepting the hand fate and the elders had dealt him. “Would you like to dance?”
“I’d love to,” she murmured, tucking her hand in his. Her fingers were cool to the touch, but Saber knew instinctively this was a façade. The lady possessed hidden fires, flames as hot as her Scarlet name. Suddenly he wanted to tend and stoke the fires until they flared out of control. But not here. Not with everyone looking.
Emily moved into his arms, her heart giving an excited blip. When a slow ballad started, she moved automatically across the grass dance floor. Her heels sank into the grass so she danced on tiptoe, balancing easily in his arms. Her bag swayed against her hip with each move, its contents a silent reminder of what she wanted to achieve tonight.
Call me Jo.
She had no idea what had possessed her to tell everyone her name was Joanna. Cinderella syndrome? Perhaps. Because tonight she felt like a fairy-tale character. The lure of fun and mischief called, enticing her to outrageous thoughts of a one-night stand. Her mouth firmed with determination. Thoughts she intended to carry out.
She tipped back her head to study the man—Saber Mitchell. About six inches taller than her, the man had short, dark hair and light green eyes. Intense green eyes full of sensual promises. Emily shivered with longing. The touch of a male. Sex.
It had been so long.
Touches of humor lurked at the corners of his beautiful eyes and lips as if he smiled often. Put together, his features were attractive and pleasing to her eye. The muscles beneath her fingers were strong and his tan, along with his calloused fingers, told her he worked outdoors. Although the man was difficult to read, Emily sensed a wide vein of integrity ran within. She’d watched him with his brothers while they’d waited to enter the marquee.
Yep, he was perfect in his tight black trousers, the white cotton shirt and contrasting red tie.
The exact opposite of Michael.
A few more subtle tests would tell if he’d qualify as the man. Was he married for one? She wasn’t about to break up a marriage, not since she’d been on the receiving end of a triangle. Ditto any serious relationships. Once she’d cleared up these questions, it was full steam ahead. Emily knew it was irresponsible, foolhardy, a few other things as well, but she wanted to feel a man’s body wrapped around her, she wanted the closeness and the intimacy even if it was for just one night. Heck, she plain wanted sex. Playing alone didn’t cut it any longer. Emily needed to know she was desirable, that a man wanted her.
Tonight was the night.
Emily had come prepared with condoms, and since she’d continued with her birth control after Michael’s death, she was as protected as she could be against an unwanted pregnancy. Now all she needed was the man…
She moved closer to temptation and inhaled his scent. “You smell go
od,” she murmured. Wow, great start. Scintillating conversation.
Saber chuckled, his chest moving beneath her hand. And a very nice chest it was, too. Her fingers flexed on his white cotton shirt, her nails digging into the resilient flesh beneath. The man made a dark sound deep in his throat like a purr. A delicious tremor swept the length of her body, pooling blood low in her belly. Oh, yeah. Tonight.
Saber held her loosely within his arms. His hands slipped down the silky fabric of her dress to hover around her hips. “Did you come from Dunedin on the train?”
“Don’t you mean the ‘love train’?” Emily said with a wide grin, remembering the silly surge of exhilaration when she’d read the ad in the paper. Catch the love train to Middlemarch. Something inside had urged her to buy a ticket, so there she was—one impulse and a train ride later.
“Yes, I’m a city girl.” The warmth of his hands through her dress hiked her pulse rate. A bit difficult to concentrate when they were so close. Yet, contrarily, she didn’t want to move an inch.
His dark brows rose in challenge. “Slumming it or interested in marrying a country boy?”
“Slumming it” implied slut while marriage sounded a whole heap worse. After the disaster with Michael, Emily wasn’t willing to tie herself to another man. Michael had blown her trust right out of the water, and his behavior had left hurt that went soul deep. She’d thought they’d grow old together, surrounded by their children and grandchildren. Her breathing hitched. The ache of betrayal would take time to heal. And Emily didn’t intend to jump into another relationship without a lot of thought and soul-searching. Emily wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. Saber cleared his throat in a non-verbal prod, but Emily refused to touch the provocative query so she prevaricated, offering distraction instead. “I’m a widow. My husband died six months ago.”
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