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

by CJ Roberts

  Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers and vowed to remember her as the strong, loving, professional woman she’d been before all this happened. His eyes burned as he placed her hand on her stomach. Tears rolled down his face and splashed onto hers when he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Goodbye, Vivian,” he whispered. After one last caress, he stood up, turned away, and stepped into Lauren’s open arms.

  For several minutes, she just held him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “I’m so sorry you had to lose her this way, Nic,” she murmured next to his ear.

  He straightened his back and wiped away her tears even as she wiped his. When she offered him a tremulous smile, he inclined his head and brushed his lips against hers. “I couldn’t let her kill you.”

  “I should have listened to you. I only made things worse.”

  Nic stared into her eyes, this woman who was his whole world. This woman he’d almost lost. “No,” he said, his voice rough. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” Tenderly, he pressed his lips to hers, letting her feel every emotion that was in his heart. Admiration for her bravery. Relief that she was safe. But most of all love.

  When their lips parted, she touched her nose to his. “We’re quite a team.”

  He kissed the tip of it and smiled. “Always.”

  26

  Lauren dried her hands on a dish towel, then ran upstairs to get Nic’s surprise. With trembling hands, she grabbed the package. Because Anderson had come through for her, she could present Nic with her last secret.

  Determined, nervous, happy, she made her way downstairs and, after stopping to retrieve the tray of lemonade she’d prepared, joined Nic on the veranda.

  “Hey, gorgeous. A penny for your thoughts.” Nic patted the spot next to him on the swing. “Or are these thoughts worth more?” he teased.

  Lauren placed the tray on a low table and sat beside Nic, relaxing against his chest. “I was thinking how happy I am.”

  Nic’s arm tightened around her shoulders and he kissed her head. “We never discussed where you want to live. Seattle? Chicago? Wherever it is, just say the word.”

  Surprised, she looked up at him. “I assumed you’d want to live in L.A., or here.”

  “L.A. is great for adults, but I’d think the ranch would be a better environment for Jason to grow up in.” He hesitated, arching a brow. “Would Jason want to live here?”

  “He’d be happy anywhere you are.”

  “You know I’m going to have to travel to film on location. But whenever I’m not working, I’ll be here with both of you.”

  Her mom had been right. Nic would spend time with them because he wanted to, not because he had to. And she’d meet him halfway. “And we can join you whenever Jason isn’t in school. We’ll make this work.”

  “You and Jason come first in my life, and if making movies gets in the way of our being a family, I’ll make changes.”

  “Really?” Her heart contracted as a warm feeling grew in her chest. He was nothing like Jason’s father. Whereas Todd had chosen to give up his family, Nic was putting them first.

  “Yes, really.” Nic grinned at her. “I’ll only take work based in New York City.”

  Her lip quivered. To cover it up, she kissed his cheek. “I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

  He shifted uncomfortably on the swing.

  “Am I hurting you? I shouldn’t be leaning on you until your wound is completely healed.”

  “No, no.” Was it the light or was her fiancé blushing like a school boy caught spying on the girls’ locker room?

  “What is it then?”

  “I have something to tell you. It’s about Chicago.” He looked away from her.

  Concerned, she twisted around to face him. “After everything we’ve been through, I can’t imagine there’s anything you can say that will shock me.”

  “This isn’t bad, just embarrassing… for me.” She raised her brows but didn’t dare say anything to delay the confession.

  “One night, me and some guys were at a friend’s house drinking and watching some R-rated movies. We got to talking about girls. I told them about you, and how no matter what I did, I couldn’t get you to notice me. That’s when one of the guys had an idea guaranteed to catch your attention.”

  “Oh my.” She laughed. “A bunch of drunk teenage boys. It must have been truly brilliant.”

  He nodded. “This was definitely one of the most brilliant things I did as a kid. And it’s the reason I never have more than two drinks. Anyway, we all pooled our money and called a taxi because we’d need a getaway car.”

  A getaway car? Lauren pressed her fingers to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

  “The taxi driver drove us to your house.”

  “You came to my house?”

  “Yeah. While my friends sang Elton John’s Can You Feel the Love Tonight, I threw rocks at your bedroom window. My aim was a little off though, and I hit your parents’ window instead. Within moments of the window breaking, I saw your father and mother looking out at us on the front lawn. Your father started yelling. We must have woken you up because your window opened. For once, I had your undivided attention. I had to do what I’d gone there to do. So, I…” He glanced at her before continuing. “Pulled down my pants and mooned you and your parents.”

  Lauren convulsed with laughter. “I had no idea that was you.”

  “The next thing I knew, your father was waving around a rifle and yelling at me to get the hell off his property or he’d put a bullet in my ass. We dove into the taxi and hauled it out of there.”

  Tears streamed down her face as she recalled the incident. “You know, for years I wondered if the whole thing had been an insult or a compliment.”

  Nic’s eyes widened. “Believe me, chérie. It was meant as the highest of compliments.”

  Try as she might, she simply couldn’t keep a straight face. “This will definitely be one of those how-we-met stories we tell our kids.”

  He groaned and covered his face. “Please don’t say that.”

  Lauren laughed. After a quick glance to make sure they were alone, she picked up the box she’d brought out. “I got you something.” She licked her dry lips. Would Nic be upset? Should she be this honest with him? Yes. If there was one lesson she’d learned from her marriage to Todd, it was begin as you mean to go.

  Nic slowly untied the big red bow that held the box closed, his face glowing with anticipation like a child at Christmas. When he lifted the lid, his brow creased. “What’s this?”

  She took the cover away but didn’t say anything.

  Nic pulled out the four silk scarves, revealing a long feather, a can of whipped cream and a bottle of chocolate sauce. His brows tipped into a frown as he pulled out the letter she’d written. “You wrote me a letter?”

  “A fantasy actually.”

  Nic pushed everything back in the box, and slammed the cover on. He grabbed her hand and began pulling her inside.

  “Where are we going?”

  He stopped abruptly, enclosing her in his arms. “We’re going upstairs so you can tell me, in detail, about this fantasy of yours.”

  Lowering his head, his lips met hers in a passionate kiss. When he grabbed her hips and yanked her against his groin, there was no doubt. He meant business. Her heart filled to bursting for this man who accepted her as she was, and who wanted to make her happy, whatever it took. “I love you, Nicolas Lamoureux.”

  “And I love you Lauren James, soon to be Lauren Lamoureux.” Her legs grew weak. Nic’s accent was so sexy when he said her new name in French. “But right now? You’d better start running.”

  She gaped at him. He hadn’t had time to read it yet. He couldn’t possibly know. “Why?”

  “It’s time to begin your fantasy.”

  Suddenly, she understood. “You knew about my fan letter? All along you knew?”

  “Lauren, ma bien aimée, I personally read all the letters from my fans.” He grinned, a
dding, “Yours was very edu… uh… entertaining.” Turning her around, he slapped her butt. “Now go.”

  She squeaked and took off, running up the stairs to their attic bedroom with Nic right on her heels. And when he caught her, Lauren knew she was the luckiest woman in the world.

  Because the reality of Nic Lamoureux was a million times more exciting than any fantasy.

  Also by Kristine Cayne

  Six-Alarm Sexy Series

  Aftershocks (Prequel)

  Under His Command (Book One)

  Everything Bared (Book Two)

  Lover on Top (Book Three) – coming 2014

  Six-Alarm Sexy, Volume One

  (ebook and print, Aftershocks and Under His Command)

  Deadly Vices Series

  Deadly Obsession (Book One)

  Deadly Addiction (Book Two)

  Deadly Betrayal (Book Three) – coming 2014

  Other Works

  Origins: The Men of MER in Shadows in the Mist: A Paranormal Anthology

  Guns ‘N’ Tulips

  Un-Valentine’s Day

  All Books on Amazon

  About Kristine Cayne

  Kristine Cayne is fascinated by the mysteries of human psychology—twisted secrets, deep-seated beliefs, out-of-control desires. Add in high-stakes scenarios and real-world villains, and you have a story worth writing, and reading.

  Kristine’s heroes and heroines are pitted against each other by their radically opposing life experiences. In overcoming their differences and finding common ground, they triumph over their enemies and find true happiness in each other’s arms.

  Today she lives in the Pacific Northwest, thriving on the mix of cultures, languages, religions and ideologies. When she’s not writing, she’s people-watching, imagining entire life stories, and inventing all sorts of danger for the unsuspecting heroes and heroines who cross her path.

  Website:

  http://www.kristinecayne.com

  Blog:

  http://kristinecayne.blogspot.com

  Facebook:

  http://www.facebook.com/KristineCayneAuthor

  Twitter:

  http://www.twitter.com/KristineCayne

  Captive in the Dark

  CJ Roberts

  Prologue

  Revenge, Caleb reminded himself. That was the purpose of all this. Revenge, twelve years in the planning and only a few months away in its execution.

  As a slave trainer, he had trained at least a score of girls. Some were willing, offering themselves as pleasure slaves to escape destitution, sacrificing freedom for security. Others came to him as the coerced daughters of impoverished farmers looking to off load their burden in exchange for a dowry. Some were the fourth or fifth wives of sheikhs and bankers sent by their husbands to learn to satisfy their distinct appetites. But this particular slave, the one he eyed from across the busy street—she was different. She was neither willing, nor coerced, nor sent to him. She was pure conquest.

  Caleb had tried to convince Rafiq he could train any one of the other types of girls. That they would best be prepared for such a serious, potentially dangerous task, but Rafiq would not be moved. He too had waited a long time to achieve his revenge, and he refused to leave anything to chance. The girl had to be someone truly special. She had to be a gift so valuable she and her trainer alike would be talked about by everyone.

  After years of being the sole apprentice to Muhammad Rafiq, Caleb’s reputation had slowly built, establishing him as a man both efficient and single-minded in whatever tasks were entrusted to him. He’d never failed. And now, all those years had been spent preparing for this moment. The time had come to prove his worth to a man he owed everything to as much as himself. There was only one obstacle remaining between him and vengeance. The last true test of his soullessness—willfully stripping someone of their freedom.

  He’d trained so many he no longer remembered their names. He could train this one too, for Rafiq.

  The plan was a simple one. Caleb would return to America and seek out a candidate for the Flower Sale, what the Arabs called, the Zahra Bay’. The auction would take place in his adopted country of Pakistan in a little over four months. It was sure to be littered with beauties from the typical male-run countries, where acquiring such women was limited only by supply and demand. But a girl from a first world country – that would be considered an accomplishment. Girls from Europe were highly sought after, though American girls were the crown jewels of the pleasure trade. Such a slave would solidify Caleb’s standing as a true player in the pleasure trade and gain him access to the most powerful inner circle in the world.

  His goal was to find someone similar to what he was used to: someone exquisitely beautiful, poor, likely inexperienced, and predisposed to submit. Once he made his selection, Rafiq would send four men to assist Caleb in smuggling the girl out of the country and into Mexico.

  Rafiq had contacted an ally who would provide safe haven in Madera during the first six weeks Caleb would need to help his captive acclimate. Once she was reasonably compliant, they would make the two-day trip to Tuxtepec and board the private plane. Eventually landing in Pakistan, where Rafiq would assist Caleb in the final weeks of training prior to the Zahra Bay’.

  Too easy, Caleb thought. Though for a moment, it felt like anything but.

  Caleb, from his vantage point diagonally across the street, glanced at the girl he’d been observing for the last thirty minutes. Her hair was pulled away from her face, and a heavy frown played across her mouth as she stared intently at the ground before her feet. She fidgeted sometimes, alluding to a sense of restlessness she was unable to hide. He wondered why she seemed so anxious.

  Caleb was both close enough to see and hidden away so the only thing noticeable was a dark vehicle, heavily tinted, but non-descript. He was almost as invisible as the girl tried to be.

  Could she sense her life as she knew it hanging precariously in the balance? Could she feel his eyes on her? Did she have a sixth sense for monsters? The thought of it made him smile. Perversely, there was a part of him that hoped the girl did possess a sixth sense for spotting monsters in broad daylight. But he’d been watching her for weeks; she was completely oblivious to his presence. Caleb let out a sigh. He was the monster no one thought to look for in the light of day. It was a common mistake. People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night.

  But safety—like light—was a façade. Underneath, the whole world was drenched in darkness. Caleb knew that. He also knew the only way to truly be safer was to accept the dark, to walk in it with eyes wide open, to be a part of it. To keep your enemies close. And so that’s what Caleb did. He kept his enemies close, very close, so he could no longer discern where they ended and he began. Because there was no safety; monsters lurked everywhere.

  He looked down at his watch and back up to the girl. The bus was late. Seemingly frustrated, the girl sat on the dirt with her backpack on her knees. Had this been a regular bus stop, there would be others meandering behind her or sitting by a bench, but it wasn’t. So every day Caleb could observe her sitting alone under the same tree near the busy street.

  Her family was poor, the next most important factor after being beautiful. It was easier for poor people to disappear, even in America. Especially when the person missing was old enough to have simply ran away. It was the typical excuse given by authorities when they couldn’t find someone. They must have run away.

  The girl made no move to leave the bus-stop, despite the fact her bus was running forty-five minutes late, and Caleb thought it was interesting for some reason. Did she enjoy school so much? Or did she hate home so much? If she hated home, it would make things easier. Perhaps she’d view her kidnapping as a rescue. He almost laughed—right.

  He eyed the girl’s shapeless, unflattering attire: loose fitting jeans, gray hoodie, headphones and a backpack. It was her consistent outfit, at least until she got to school. There, she would usually change into some
thing more feminine, flirty even. But at the end of the day, she’d change back. He thought about her hating her home life again. Did she dress that way because her home life was restrictive or unstable? Or to prevent unwanted attention from a dangerous neighborhood to and from school? He didn’t know. But he wanted to.

  There was something interesting about her that made Caleb want to jump to the conclusion she was the girl he’d been looking for, someone with the ability to blend-in. Someone with the good sense to do as they’re told when faced with authority, or do as they must when faced with danger. A survivor.

  Across the street the girl fidgeted with her headphones. Her eyes stared dispassionately at the ground. She was pretty, very pretty. He didn’t want to do this to her, but what choice did he have? He’d resigned himself to the fact that she was a means to an end. If not her, then someone else, either way his plight would be the same.

  He continued to stare at this girl, his potential slave, wondering how she would appeal to the target in mind. It was rumored that among the attendees at the auction this year would be Vladek Rostrovich, one of the wealthiest men in the world, and most assuredly one of the most dangerous. It was to this man the slave would be entrusted for however long it took Caleb to get close and destroy everything the man held dear to him. Then kill him.

  Still, Caleb wondered, not for the first time, why he was drawn to her. Perhaps it was her eyes. Even from a distance he could see how dark, how mysterious and sad they were. How old they seemed.

  He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, when he heard the cough and squealing gears of the school bus approaching from down the street. He watched closely as the girl’s face relaxed in relief. It seemed to include more than just the arrival of the bus, but of escape, maybe even freedom. At last, the bus arrived, in perfect synchronicity with the sun as it finally rose to its full strength. The girl glanced up with a frown, but she lingered, letting the light touch her face before disappearing inside.