What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG)

by CJ Roberts

  “Well, I tried. It’s Wednesday, hump day and she was humping some new guy. I don’t think either one of them noticed me. I changed clothes for dinner and got the hell out of there.

  “I’m not going to be staying, Matt. I…I want to talk to Mike about someone. You said his surprise never arrived.” At the shake of his head, she sighed. “I guess I have some decisions to make.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “All right, but at least hear Marshall out. He may make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

  Casey laughed and arched an elegant brow. “You were the one who said he was head of a newspaper syndicate, right?”

  A uniformed garage attendant opened the passenger door for Casey, then quickly ran around to the driver’s side. As soon as Matt eased himself from the car, the young man eagerly slid behind the wheel. Matt watched with amusement as his Corvette sped away. He checked their names and destination with the guard, then walked Casey to the elevator door. The doors opened immediately to his call and they stepped inside. “Damn, I left my briefcase on the back seat,” Matt muttered crossly. “You go up to the penthouse,” he instructed, “I’ve got to find where that speed jockey parked my car.” His blunt forefinger punched the elevator controls, he stepped out, and the doors slammed shut, cutting off Casey’s protest.

  Casey groaned at this sudden change in events. She felt very disoriented and ill at ease with people in general these days and didn’t relish making polite small talk with the Marshalls and their son without Matt by her side. Her green eyes caught sight of her image in the mirror over the elevator doors. Her reflection made her flinch. The past few weeks hadn’t been kind. She had lost weight, her features seemed to be perpetually exhausted, her hair was dull and limp, and her eyes had a haunted unhappy stare.

  Thank heaven for makeup! Foundation and blusher had taken away her sallow complexion and given her an artificial glow. Her eyes looked brighter rimmed with blue liner and lashes coated with mascara. In her black evening purse was aspirin for an ever-present headache, antacid to calm her tortured stomach, and tissues for the tears that never seemed to stop.

  Casey barely had time to slip off her trench coat and smooth her favorite little black dress before the elevator doors hissed open and she stepped directly into the foyer of the Marshalls’ condo. She had expected to be met but found herself totally alone.

  “Hello?” Hesitantly, Casey moved farther into the main quarters. The view of Boston was breathtaking from the wall of windows. The living room filled with parlor palms and schefflera trees. The rattan and wicker furniture made her think the decorator had been shopping in the open-air markets in Acapulco.

  A shadow moved from behind the wet bar. Casey’s emerald gaze became riveted on the tall figure of a man who stalked her with the relentless grace of a panther. His virile body was clad in an impeccably tailored gunmetal gray suit and a white silk shirt that made his rugged bronze features more pronounced.

  Casey knew that face better than her own. It had haunted her during sleepless nights and drab days. Her lips moved soundlessly, her heart shouted one name – Travis! Casey stared at him, feeling totally helpless, knowing there could be no escape. Then a small inner voice reminded her of whom she was supposed to be meeting. Her stomach heaved, her shaky hands gripped the back of a side chair for support. “Oh, my God, you…you’re Marshall? The one with the…the wife…and son?”

  Travis kicked the chair aside and stood in front of her. His topaz eyes glowed like twin lasers, boring into her very soul. “My father is the one with the wife, and son and three daughters,” his voice was hoarse. “I’m the one who came back from Acapulco like Santa Claus to find an empty house. I’m the one who raged through a village like a wounded bull looking for you. I’m the one who wanted to drag the Pacific Ocean thinking I’d find your body.”

  He stopped and took a deep, controlling breath. His massive chest heaved under his anger. “I’m the one who destroyed a villa after finding a vacant closet, an empty dresser, and six crumpled good-bye notes.” Then suddenly the bitterness and violence that had twisted his features changed, dramatically replaced by anguish and fear. “I have only one question: do you love me?”

  Casey blinked rapidly, not trying to stop the flow of tears that dribbled down her cheeks. “Of course I love you. That’s why I left. I –”

  Travis jerked her roughly into his arms; the rest of her words were swallowed by his mouth. His lips opened and savagely twisted across hers, his tongue thrusting as his arms crushed her in a hungry embrace. His hands molded and roughly caressed the rounded contours of her breasts and hips as if to reaffirm her presence.

  Casey melted at the exquisite torture of his mouth and hands. She felt Travis trembling in her arms and realized that he was as vulnerable as she was. She pulled her mouth free and gently kissed his cheekbones, his eyelids, his nose and his chin. Her fingers ruffled the virile coils of his dark hair while her pliant body melted into his rugged frame.

  With a deep groan, Travis sank down on the sofa and pulled Casey into his arms. She curled onto his lap like a kitten, her arms tightly entwined around his strong neck. His emotions gave way to impatience. Travis caught her chin between his fingers. “Where have you been?” His eyes darkened and his voice deepened. “Why did you go away?”

  The soft pads of her fingertips gently smoothed the tension from his forehead and around his eyes. The weeks they had been separated had been harsh on Travis as well. He looked older, haggard, and strained. More strands of gray streaked his hair than she remembered. Tenderly she kissed the corner of his mouth, her fingers stroking the tense muscles of his neck. “I didn’t know where to go. I ended up in New York, staying with my agent. Poor Helen, she’s put up with a lot these past two weeks.”

  “Casey, why did you go? What made you run like that?”

  “I just couldn’t be Ingrid Bergman for you,” she moaned self-consciously.

  He stared at her, then shook his head. “What?”

  “Oh, Travis, it’s hard to explain.” Casey attempted to slide off his lap, but his large hands held her fast around the waist. She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “How much longer could we have gone on? We were trespassing on paradise and every day the real world was getting closer.” She ran a tongue over her dry lips. “My book had been finished for a week and you…you seemed so edgy and restless. I thought you wanted to get back and find a job. I didn’t want you to feel guilty and just keep things going and …”

  “So you packed up and left, just like that?” His voice was harsh but his hands were gentle as they moved up her spine to smooth back a lock of brown hair from her tear-streaked cheek.

  “It was the only way I could leave you.” Her voice broke and she buried her face against the warm skin of his throat. “I wasn’t strong enough to shake hands and say a polite good-bye at the airport. I’m a coward.”

  “I don’t suppose it ever occurred to you that I would have liked to trade my single life-style for a married life-style which I wanted to share with you.”

  Casey’s breath caught in her throat; her heart hammered madly in her breast. She straightened up, her green eyes questioning. “But you never mentioned any kind of permanent relationship. In fact that last few days you…you seemed different…further away…”

  “That’s because I felt you drifting. I was afraid you had changed your mind.”

  “Never.”

  He lowered his head, letting his mouth play with hers, nibbling, and teasing her parted lips. “I found living together was a very precarious state. Just the thought of you ever being with any other man…well I wanted to have you legally share my life and my bed.” Travis lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her ring finger. “I’ve always held the institution of marriage in high esteem. I came back from Acapulco with a wedding license, a ring, a Mexican wedding dress and a bottle of champagne. I was already to get down on one knee, ring in hand, hand on heart – the works.”

  She swallowed,
her eyes locked into his. “And now?”

  “I’ve still got the ring, the dress and, oh hell, TSA has the champagne. I’ve finally got the only woman that will ever fit them. The license may be lost but the love…Casey, the love was never lost.”

  “I love you.” She whispered the words against his lips, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Oh, Travis, I love you so much.” She kissed him hard and deep, anxious to drive off the last vestiges of doubt from his mind.

  He held her tightly against him. “You have no idea what I’ve been through these last two weeks. I’ve been haunting Matt’s office, praying that you would call him and petrified that something had happened to you. We didn’t know where you were and your repaired cell phone was sitting on your office desk. Mike forwarded the email you sent about me, that gave me hope. But you never emailed Matt and –”

  Casey pulled away and looked at him. “You mean you and Mike and Matt knew about all this?”

  Travis smiled. “They played it very clever. Mike never responded and Matt didn’t want to scare you off.”

  “I did a search on the University of Michigan teacher’s page and couldn’t find you. I’ve been emailing Mike ad nauseam and he never responded. I came back to Boston for only one reason,” she confessed awkwardly. “I wanted talk to Mike and find out how to contact you.” Casey paused and took a deep breath. “I sold the book for an obscene amount of money. I was going to find you and …” She stopped and stared at him, her forehead puckering. “Wait a minute! You’ve got a lot of explaining to do—Mr. Marshall!”

  Travis shrugged his wide shoulders and grimaced. “I suppose I do, don’t I?”

  She folded her arms. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were right from the very beginning?”

  “If you remember, you were very anti-Marshall Group. I was afraid you’d toss me out and I didn’t want to leave.” Travis’s voice deepened. His knuckles tenderly caressed the side of her face. “I was very attracted to you from the beginning. I made up that story about being an out of work professor on the verge of physical collapse, hoping you’d let me stay. Then I fell in love with you and I didn’t want who I was to get in the way. I wanted you to see me without all of the social trappings. To really get to know me.”

  His voice hardened for a moment. “I had already tasted a relationship that was based solely on money and status and it had soured me. But the two of us were like Adam and Eve right from the start. No gilded trappings, no outside influences. Just us. Talking, sharing, laughing, fighting, loving. That’s why, when I found you had gone, I died, and I didn’t come back to life until you walked through that door tonight.”

  “I know,” Casey whispered, her palms framed his face. “I’ve been in shock – stunned and frightened. You are so much a part of me that I’m scared. I can’t seem to function without you.”

  He gave her a rough shake. “Listen, you don’t need anyone for your identity, your status or your sense of importance. You are rock-solid with yourself. And damn it, you should realize that by now.” His eyes squinted at her. “Do you need frozen cheesecake?”

  “Nope, just you. You complete me.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Are there any other things I don’t know about Travis Craig Marshall?”

  “Well…” his hands slid up her arms to her shoulders. “I’ve rented this place for six months until both you and the Annex get totally settled. I live in Palm Beach, in a house that’s sort of a mix of Matt’s villa and the Castillo’s apartment.” He looked at her seriously. “But wherever you want is fine with me. Florida is a ways from the publishing world in New York, but I do have a jet that I pilot that can get you there fast.”

  “You mean you didn’t even have an airline ticket?” At his exaggerated expression, she sighed. “Anywhere is fine as long as we’re together. Are you going to mind if I keep writing? The publisher wants another book.”

  “I will gladly share you with your writing. Every individual has his or her need for self-expression and they don’t abruptly terminate with a marriage ceremony. My mother still does substitute teaching. And she and my father have fallen in love with you just from what I’ve told them and your writing.

  “You are going to be thoroughly spoiled, by them, by me and my sisters. But no ganging up with them.”

  “Spoiled huh? Can I have a puppy?”

  “Honey, you can have anything you want.” He kissed her hard and held her tight.

  “I really like you so much better in your T-shirt and shorts.” Her fingers had pulled his tie free and unbuttoned his shirt.

  “I think I like you best in your birthday suit.” He easily unzipped the back of her dress.

  Her hands slid beneath his shirt to play with the dark curls that matted his chest. “Your parents and Matt, they’re waiting dinner for us.” Casey exhaled a regretful sigh, her passion glazed eyes caressed his face.

  Travis tugged the dress free of her shoulders, then deftly unhooked her bra and tossed it on the floor. His rugged body flipped her back onto the wide sofa cushions, his lips and tongue finding their way home to her taut nipples. “I am sure they won’t mind if we miss dinner and meet them for breakfast.”

  Casey kicked off her heels and let her stocking-clad foot slide beneath his trouser leg. “Why don’t we meet them for lunch.” Her body trembled under his exploring mouth and hands. “A very late lunch.”

  Books by Elaine Raco Chase

  Caught in a Trap

  Special Delivery (both eBook & audiobook)

  Rules of the Game (voted by Turning Pages as #1 erotic romance of 2012)

  Calculated Risk (top seller in over 30 countries)

  Dare the Devil

  Designing Woman

  Video Vixen

  Lady Be Bad

  Best Laid Plans

  No Easy Way Out

  One Way or Another

  All are available wherever eBooks are sold and at audible.com in audio

  Forthcoming:

  Roman Cantrell/Nikki Holden Mystery Series

  Dangerous Places

  Dark Corners

  Rough Edges

  New Thriller: A Rare Medium, Well-Done

  All Books on Amazon

  Meet Elaine Raco Chase

  If you like sassy, laugh out loud, contemporary romances – some more explicit than others – you have found the right author!

  Reviewers have called them: “cat & mouse” – “slow burn” – “hot and steamy” – “highly addicting” – “solid characters & lots of humor” – “amazing reads!”

  I call them fun! My heroines are NOT: thin, petite, clueless or submissive. They are strong women who aren’t looking for a man – until the right one comes along!

  And those men! Tough-guy, alpha males who don’t know what hit them! But do know they want MORE!

  I also write erotic mystery/thriller’s and the Agatha Christie nominated non-fiction “How to write the Amateur Detective Novel” which is in the FBI Forensic Library at Quantico.

  You can find me:

  www.elaineracochase.com

  @ElaineRaco on twitter;

  https://www.facebook.com/elaineracochase

  http://pinterest.com/elaineracochase/

  Floor Time

  Stewart Realty Series Book 1

  Liz Crowe

  Prologue

  Sara put her palms against the ice-cold glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows. She smiled, observing the entire downtown of Ann Arbor spread out below her like a child’s carpet map. From this high up she could see the late spring heat rising visibly from the pavement as the crowds scurried in and out of restaurants and shops.

  Adam’s arms around her waist startled her. As she turned and let him kiss her again, a niggling voice at the back of her brain made her hesitate. They’d been in the vacant condo way too long. Now that he’d teased a satisfactory orgasm from her neglected body, an antsy, nervous sensation wormed through her psyche. She sighed and disentangled herself from his embrace.

  When the
doorbell echoed through the cavernous space, she broke out in a cold sweat. Fumbling with blouse buttons, she pushed past Adam on her way through the kitchen and to the door, cursing under her breath. She looked back to make sure he was pulled together – not a tough thing since neither of them had gotten completely out of their clothes – and scowled as he gave her a knowing smile.

  Shit. You should not have done this. You don’t even really like him. But it had been so long and he was pretty good looking. Jesus, slut much, Sara?

  Sara let guilty thoughts clang around her head long enough to hear the doorbell ring once more before yanking it open, her perfect pleased-to-see-you sales smile fixed in place, empty condo keys clutched in one hand.

  Jack had a hot date, one that was going to yield him a kick-ass listing, but due to the unwarranted dawdling of the condo-shopping couple he had been dragging around he’d be lucky to make it in time. The empty lock box on the door of the penthouse unit provided the real icing on his shit cake. He leaned on the doorbell, hoping they could skip this one and stop wasting his time while mouthing platitudes to his clients. He had hoped that the high-level relocating couple like the ones he was courting at that moment wouldn’t spend so much of his valuable time arguing over granite colors and the relative benefits of central vacuum cleaners. God, he hated this job sometimes. He smiled and turned, hearing the click of the deadbolt. Finally.

  When the heavy door swung open, the vision standing there froze him mid-sentence. Sara Thornton, one of the newer, and more successful, realtors at Stewart Realty, stared at him, eyes blazing in a strange combination of aggravation and satisfaction. Jack clenched his jaw at the sight of her body encased in skintight short black skirt, creamy silk blouse and four-inch stilettos.