by Cara Marsi
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Loving Or Nothing ~ Excerpt
California Girl ~ Excerpt
Praise for Cara's Books
Books by Cara Marsi
About Cara Marsi
STORM OF DESIRE
by
Cara Marsi
Storm of Desire
Copyright © 2012 Carolyn Matkowsky
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Carolyn Matkowsky.
Published by Cara Marsi
United States of America
Electronic Edition: April 2012
This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.
Edited by Laura Kelly. http://editorlaurakelly.com/
Formatting by Sandra Edwards. www.SandraWrites.com
Corporate attorney Samantha Greco needs some peace and quiet to come to a decision about her career. Instead, while an icy nor’easter rages outside, she finds herself trapped in a cottage on Fenwick Island with Aiden Rourke, a man she used five years ago when she ran from the heartbreak of her fiancé’s betrayal.
Aiden Rourke has loved Sam for years. For one glorious night she was his. But then she fled, wounding his ego and his heart. Thrown together again, they soon discover time hasn’t diminished their fiery passion for each other. Only Aiden has ever been able to melt Sam with just a look or a touch. But the fear that she’s like her mother, who used men mercilessly, scares Sam to death.
The storm outside is nothing compared to the storm of desire, fear, and guilt raging inside Sam. But during their wild weekend together, Sam and Aiden draw closer and realize their all-consuming passion for each other masks deeper needs and desires.
When the storm ends, will they go their separate ways? Or will they find the courage to face the future together as one?
CHAPTER ONE
SAMANTHA GRECO YANKED her wet suitcase through the bedroom doorway, dropped it on the floor, turned on the lamp and slammed the door. The sound reverberated through the empty house. She hadn’t meant to take her frustrations out on the door, but her white-knuckled drive up the coast from Richmond, Virginia, to Fenwick Island, Delaware, had plucked her last nerve.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the shadowed corners of the room. The fierceness of the January storm had turned the early afternoon to dusk. A sudden crack of thunder made her jump. Damn nor’easter!
Shivering, she set her handbag on the night table, then shrugged off her jacket and threw it on the bed. The soaking rain had dampened her jeans. She sat on the bed and tugged off her boots, then her jeans and the sweater she’d worn since early morning. She unzipped her suitcase and rummaged for fresh jeans and a sweater. Straightening, the clean clothes in one hand, she loosened her hair from its clasp to let the damp tendrils swing about her shoulders and down her back.
She started when she caught a glimpse of another person in her peripheral vision. With a nervous laugh, she realized she’d seen her reflection in the full-length mirror. She studied herself and shrugged. Clad only in a red thong and matching lace bra, her black hair falling loose and undone, she looked worlds removed from the conservative corporate lawyer she presented to her colleagues.
The lamp flickered, then went out, plunging the room into semi-darkness. Samantha dropped the clothes onto the bed and let her eyes adjust. The wind picked up, howling an angry song. Scrub trees scraped the side of the house, a macabre accompaniment to the wind. Anxiety snaked through her. “I should have stayed in Richmond this weekend.”
Above the wail of the wind, she heard a door open and close. Samantha froze. She must have imagined the sound. Or maybe the cats were into something, or perhaps it was only a loose shutter.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Definitely not the cats. Not a shutter either.
Her heart raced. Oh, God.
She groped for the sweater she’d thrown down. Sweater in hand, she looked frantically around for something to use as a weapon.
Her bedroom door flew open and hit the wall with a loud bang. She screamed. A tall man, brandishing a baseball bat, stood silhouetted in the doorway.
She threw the only thing she had in her hand at him—her sweater. He smacked it to the ground with the bat. The light suddenly came back on. She blinked as recognition dawned.
“Who the hell…?” he shouted above the thunder and the wind. His dark blue eyes widened and he sucked in a breath. Frowning, he lowered the bat. “Sam? I saw the car and wondered. But you? Why are you here?”
She couldn’t breathe as his hot gaze raked her. She’d never forgotten those eyes or that thick brown hair, or the dimple in his cheek when he smiled. She’d never forgotten that night five years ago either, that incredible night. Almost naked, feeling vulnerable, she folded her arms across her chest as if she could protect herself from the memories.
“Aiden.” Her voice shook. Warmth curled in her stomach and wound lower, leaving her breathless from fright and remembered heat.
He set the bat against the wall and glared at her, making her wonder if she’d imagined the desire in his eyes a second ago. “Sam, what the hell are you doing here?”
No one but Aiden called her Sam.
The unexpected harshness of his voice brought her to the present. She scowled back at him. “What are you doing here? In my mother’s house?”
He pushed fingers through his hair, sending droplets of water flying, and studied her with eyes that sparked blue fire. This time there was no mistaking his desire. His gaze made another leisurely sweep of her body. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “And still sexy as hell.”
Despite the embarrassment of her near-nakedness, her nipples pebbled under his scrutiny. He was smokin’ hot, and impressions flashed through her mind, as quick as the lightning outside—the feel of his lips on hers, the rough skin of his palms against her breasts.
She should tell him to leave; she should get dressed. But caught in the sensual heat of her memories, she couldn’t move.
He broke the contact and looked away. When he turned back to her, his eyes were cool. “Get some clothes on, Sam. I’m a man, not a saint.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t charged in here scaring me half to death, I would have had time to dress.”
She glanced down and saw her short terry robe hanging out of her suitcase. She grabbed it and pulled it on, tying the belt around her waist. Feeling armored, she propped a hand on her hip. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”
“I promised your mom I’d take care of things while she’s away. I drove over from Rehoboth to check the house and get the cats. I would have been here sooner but the storm’s made driving a mess.” He gave her a pointed look. “As you know.”
She ignored his jab. “You’re the friend who’s watching the cats?” At his nod, she said, “Well I’m here now. I’ll take care of them. You can leave.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw and he moved into the room. “Yeah. Right. You’re here now. Get dressed, Sam. We need to leave. All of us.”
At the seriousnes
s in his eyes and voice, apprehension dashed up her spine. She pulled on the ties of her robe again, fighting her unease. “What are you talking about?”
“The storm. We don’t have time to argue. Let’s find the cats and get the hell out of here.”
“Are you nuts?”
“You’re the one who’s nuts if you stay here.” He jutted his chin toward the windows. “Do you hear that? The storm of the decade and it’s only going to get worse. The Coastal Highway is taking on water. They’re evacuating everyone inland. Didn’t you notice cars going out but none coming in?”
“It’s January. There’s never much traffic here in January. Besides, I’ve been through plenty of nor’easters.”
“Then you know what happens when the highway floods.”
A clap of thunder shook the house, as if to punctuate his statement.
Aiden reached out and turned her toward her suitcase. “We don’t have much time. Have you seen the cats? I don’t want to leave them alone. We don’t know when the authorities will allow us back in.”
She stepped away from him, then rubbed her arm as if she could erase the heat of his touch. “The cats ran past me into Mom’s room a little while ago.”
“I’ll get the carriers. Get dressed, then we’ll get the cats.”
“Don’t order me around.”
He moved closer, invading her senses with his heat. His hair had begun to dry and curled softly over the collar of his black leather jacket. The dim light from the lamp touched his sharp cheekbones and full lips.
“Listen, princess, if we don’t get out now, we might be stuck here for days.”
Remembering the pleasure he’d given her with that mouth, she licked her suddenly dry lips. “Stuck here? With you?”
His eyes darkened and his gaze lingered on her mouth. “The two of us. Here. All alone.”
CHAPTER TWO
AIDEN LEFT TO LOOK for the carriers, leaving Samantha alone. She shoved the bedroom door shut, then pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.
Aiden here? Now? Despite the cool temperature in the room, flaming heat spread through her.
Another flash of lightning gilded the pale oak furniture, pink walls, and the double bed with its white spread, remnants of her childhood. Her lonely childhood. Thunder shook the house again, spurring Samantha to action. She pulled off her robe, jammed it into her suitcase and grabbed her sweater from the floor where it had landed after Aiden swiped it with the bat. She yanked on clean jeans and the sweater, then pulled on her boots and jacket. After stuffing her traveling clothes into the outside pocket of her suitcase, she zipped it, flung her handbag over her shoulder and hauled her suitcase to the hallway, outside her mother’s room. Then she went in to round up the cats.
She flipped on the lamp. It flickered, but thankfully stayed on. The scent of cinnamon, from the small dish of potpourri on the nightstand, wafted through the room. The scent brought her back to her childhood. Her mother had always scented her room with cinnamon.
Sam shook her head to dislodge the memories. She didn’t want to go there now. Through the sheer curtains, the ghostly outline of scrub trees bending in the wind and the sound of the branches scraping the shingles sent an ominous shudder through her. Rain pelted the windows, the noise menacing in the darkened room. Another boom of thunder made her flinch. Lightning and thunder were rare in January. This storm promised to be a doozie.
“Casey. Quincy. Come here, babies,” she crooned. “You’re safe. I won’t hurt you.” In the past five years, she’d been back once for a very short visit. The cats wouldn’t remember her. No wonder they were so scared.
Samantha tiptoed through the room, careful not to frighten the cats even more. She looked under the bed. No luck. They could be anywhere in the house. The next crack of thunder ratcheted her uneasiness up a notch. Aiden was right. They needed to make tracks. But they couldn’t leave the cats.
Her gaze traveled to the antique bureau. Two frightened pairs of eyes stared at her from underneath. Samantha moved slowly, trying to convey calm to the scared animals.
Instead she caught her foot on the area rug between the bed and bureau, nearly tripped, and threw her hands out to catch her fall against the dresser, making the mirror on top shake slightly. Two orange balls of fur shot out from beneath the bureau and darted under the bed. “Damn it, we don’t have time for this.”
Turning, she slipped on something and lost her balance again. Grabbing the bed post, she looked down to see what had caused her near-fall. A manila envelope lay on the hardwood floor. Had it had fallen from the bureau when she’d knocked into it?
Samantha picked up the envelope. The dried-up cellophane tape along the edges suggested it had been taped to the back of the bureau. Strange that her mother would tape something to a piece of furniture. She scanned the envelope. “Tom” was written across in her mother’s curling, girlish handwriting.
Was Tom another of her mother’s lovers? As if the thought burned her, Samantha threw the envelope on the bureau and returned her attention to the cats.
Aiden came in with the carriers, and together they managed to corral the cats and secure them.
The cats safe, Samantha stood and rubbed a hand down the side of her jeans. She raised her gaze to find Aiden staring at her, a muscle working in his jaw.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said, his voice steely.
She shot him a wry smile. This storm had her imagination going haywire, thinking Aiden Rourke still wanted her. If he ever truly had. “Let me grab my stuff,” she said.
At the front door, Aiden stopped and set down the carriers.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I just got a text.” He dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone, turning toward the dim shaft of light filtering through the glass panes framing the door to read it.
Lightning lit the small space, allowing her a clear view of Aiden. God, but he had a great butt. He always had. In the five years since she’d seen him, he’d become more ruggedly handsome, his features more defined, his form more muscular. Warmth seeped into her belly. She clutched the handle of her suitcase as if by sheer will she could banish the lust that filled her when looking at him.
Aiden stuffed his phone in his pocket and turned to her.
She shifted her suitcase to her other hand. “What is it?”
“The storm’s gained momentum. We’re stuck here. The Coastal is closed.”
Samantha released her hold on the suitcase. Top heavy, it dropped on the wood floor with a loud thump, echoing the thumping of her heart. “Stuck here?”
He moved closer. His lips tilted in a wicked smile. “You can’t run away this time, Sam.”
“That’s in the past. We have other problems now.”
“The past has a way of coming back and biting you in the ass,” he said, a trace of bitterness in his voice. He turned and strode toward the living room. “But like you said, we’ve got other problems. And I got over you a long time ago, princess.”
He’d gotten over her? She hadn’t known there’d been anything to get over. Regret pulled at her. Maybe if she hadn’t run…?
The rumble of thunder tore her from the old memories and hurts. The cats howled in their carriers, mirroring the anxiety that coursed through her, an anxiety that had less to do with the storm and more to do with the man who could set her pulse racing with just a look.
“Oh, no, I’m not staying here. They can’t stop me from leaving.” Grabbing her suitcase and clutching her handbag, she hurried to the door and pulled it open. As soon as she stepped outside, she realized her mistake. The savage wind blew her backward, almost causing her to hit the front of the house. Rain pelted her face, sharp pinpricks that made her wince.
Determination overcame her fear. She couldn’t stay here, marooned for who-knew-how-long with Aiden Rourke. Head down, fighting the wind, she headed for her car, her high-heeled boots slipping on the icy walk.
“Samantha, get
back here!” Aiden’s shouted words competed with the keening wind.
She’d almost reached her car when Aiden grabbed her arm, stopping her and forcing her around to face him.
“Are you crazy?” He gripped her arm tighter. “Get in the house. You’ll kill yourself if you try to leave.”
Guilt, anxiety, and desperation wrapped around her with the force of the storm. She couldn’t stay here. She’d take her chances on the road.
She pulled free. “I’m going.”
“No, you’re not.”
Thunder rumbled and the earth seemed to shake, firing her fear. Her hair whipped around her head. She brushed it away from her face with a shaky hand.
“Damn you,” she said. Dragging her suitcase, she walked on unsteady legs back toward the house.
Aiden followed her, slamming the door shut behind them. “You’re soaking wet again.”
“No thanks to you.”
“You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”
Without another word, she dropped her suitcase and handbag and went into the living room. She needed to change out of her wet clothes. Again. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
When she got to the living room, she switched on the nearest lamp, then turned to him with arms folded. “So what now?”
With narrowed eyes, he scanned her. “First you need to get out of those wet clothes.”
“Yours are wet too.”
“I’ll be fine. And having grown up here, I’m sure you know the drill. After you get changed, we check the refrigerator and pantry for food and water, especially water. If we don’t have enough bottled water, we fill jugs with water before they cut us off.”
She chewed her lip. “This storm can’t last that long.”
