Deceptively Yours (Wanton Weston Women, Book Two)

by Wynter Daniels

  Deceptively Yours

  Wynter Daniels

  Book 2 in the Wanton Weston Women series.

  Shy bookworm Laura Weston agrees to take her very pregnant sister’s place and speak at a hedonist conference at a Caribbean resort. Since no one knows what sex-advice columnist “Dear Annie” looks like, she prays she can pull off the ruse.

  Private Investigator Guy Pritchard is on Pleasure Cove Island to find drug kingpin Harry Turiano. What he hadn’t counted on is the hot blonde advice columnist at the villa next door to Harry’s, who proves to be way too much of a distraction.

  Laura decides to use the break from her ordinary life to succumb to Guy’s advances. But after a taste of their sizzling-hot chemistry, she’s not sure if she’ll be able to return to ordinary and leave the sexy hunk behind.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Deceptively Yours

  ISBN 9781419939693

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Deceptively Yours Copyright © 2012 Wynter Daniels

  Edited by Shannon Combs

  Cover design by Dar Albert

  Photos: Martin Valigursky, mocher bat/fotolia.com

  Electronic book publication May 2012

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

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  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 author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Deceptively Yours

  Wynter Daniels

  Prologue

  Laura Weston would die if she didn’t learn the identity of the masked man who’d made love to Lady Willingham. Their love scene was so scorching hot that her fingers practically burned as she held her e-book reader. She ought to take her shower then eat her dinner, but how could she with the sexual tension between the characters so high?

  The way the masked lover had kissed a trail from Lady Willingham’s shoulder down her back to the swell of her derriere made Laura swoon. She imagined herself the noblewoman as the mystery man tore aside her petticoats and spanked her bare rear end for her insolence. Then he’d teased a finger between her intimate lips and brought her to bliss she’d never before known.

  In her fantasy, she backed her hips to the man and his hard desire pressed against her. He entered her from behind, mounted her like a champion stallion and rode her all the way to ecstasy.

  Laura glanced at the clock. She’d grab a quick shower then climb into bed with the electronic reader. She headed to the bathroom, turned the water on hot then stepped inside the shower.

  As she sluiced her bath sponge over her breasts, her nipples hardened. Had to be that damn masked lover from her book. It was all his fault she was so horny. She removed the detachable shower head and focused the spray between her legs. Didn’t take long for the hot pulsing jets of water to ramp up her arousal. She rubbed her cleft, stimulated her long neglected libido as she imagined a masked lover doing all the wicked things to her that he’d done to Lady Willingham. Little shock waves grew to a swell. She backed to the wall for support as her climax took hold. Exploding in satisfaction, she moaned and twisted and shook. After her orgasm eased, she finished washing then hurriedly dried off and pulled on a nightgown, feeling much more relaxed than before. She strode to the kitchen and threw a low-fat frozen dinner in the microwave.

  Now she could enjoy the rest of the book uninterrupted. She grabbed her ebook reader and stretched out on the sofa. When the oven dinged, alerting her that her supper was ready, she couldn’t put the book down. She read to the end of the chapter, where the incognito lover managed to scale the wall around the manor without giving himself away.

  “Darn it.” She set the device on the sofa next to her tabby cat Penelope, then headed to the kitchen to fetch her meal. She carried the black plastic bowl to the coffee table along with a glass of merlot. But before she could return to the story, the phone rang.

  Ignore it.

  She could always call back whomever it was after she found out whether it had been Prince Raphael or Lord Sutherland who’d shared Lady Willingham’s bed. But it might be the bookstore calling with some pressing question only she could answer. It would be just like them to disturb her on her one night off.

  She picked up the handset and checked the caller ID. Her oldest sister’s name filled the display. What if something had gone wrong with Suzanne’s pregnancy? Lady Willingham would have to wait. Nothing was more important than her family.

  “Suzanne? Everything okay with the twins?” She held her breath and prayed her sister’s babies were all right.

  “Hey, sweetie, it’s fine. Nothing like that. No more premature labor. ”

  Laura took a sip of her wine and sat back against the cushion. “Thank goodness. What’s up?”

  “I have a favor to ask.”

  Suzanne had never requested a thing of her. When their mother had lost her job while Laura was in college, Suzanne had stepped up to the plate and paid what Laura’s financial aid didn’t cover. That was just the way her sister operated.

  “Anything,” she said, but Suzanne’s uncharacteristic nervous laugh gave her pause.

  “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. If Wendy didn’t refuse to get on an airplane and Diana didn’t have that crazy workaholic thing going on, well…”

  What was so important that Suzanne was having difficulty saying it? The woman was a writer, a born communicator for heaven’s sake, and the most outgoing person Laura knew.

  Unlike her bookworm sister.

  “Let me start at the beginning,” Suzanne said. “Right before I got pregnant with the twins I made a commitment to be the keynote speaker at the annual convention of…an organization. Well, Dear Annie did. I was flattered because, you know, I’m not famous or anything and I thought it would be fun. They’ve booked a beautiful resort on a private island in the Caribbean for the event. I saw pictures of Pleasure Cove Island and it totally lives up to the name.”

  Laura took a few bites of her lasagna while her sister went on and on about all the amazing accommodations, activities and amenities.

  “And best of all, they’re giving me a private villa with a pool. Can you believe that?”

  Laura propped her feet on the coffee table. Her sister’s description of the resort reminded her of a romance she’d read last week where a millionaire took a maid who was pretending to be a busin
ess tycoon to his mansion in the South Pacific. She sighed as she recalled the hunky hero. He’d made love to the heroine on the beach under a blanket of stars. “Sounds like heaven.”

  “I think so too. It was going to be a little second honeymoon for us, a last hoorah before I gave birth. But Alan and I never imagined it would be twins. Then the premature labor problems started last month. So the thing is, it’s only two weeks from now.”

  “Two weeks? But you’re supposed to be resting until the end of your pregnancy.”

  “Therein lies the problem. The few times I’ve made public appearances as Dear Annie I’ve always been in disguise.”

  Even Laura hadn’t recognized her sister when a photo of Suzanne in disguise started appearing at the top of her magazine column. “You don’t have to worry about me giving you away. I don’t speak to a dozen people a day at the bookstore and besides, I know better. By the way, I’m planning a big display when your book is released.”

  “That’s so sweet, thank you. It’s this conference that I’m concerned about now, though. You see, if I don’t show up they might sue me. I’m sure I’d win since I have a medical excuse, but my identity would be revealed. My fans envision me as a single, happy-go-lucky woman who has great sex with lots of guys. And I used to be that woman, of course. It’s not like I’m purposely deceiving them or anything. I never said I planned to stay that single lady forever. They might not understand that I found true love and decided to give being a wife and mother a fair shot.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t necessarily always agree with her sister’s do-whatever-feels-good advice, but she understood her need to keep her identity a secret. Suzanne had been offered the column long before she’d met Alan. At the time, Suzanne was sure she’d never marry. And although she’d often stated that two people need not engage in any sort of commitment just because they wanted to have sex, she’d always held that relationships can work, but statistically, they usually didn’t.

  Suzanne huffed. “Exposing my true identity would be a horrible thing not only for my book’s success, but for Alan’s teaching career as well. Not to mention the very conservative parents of my kids’ playgroup. God, if my secret got out Alan and I could lose nearly all our income.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” What could Suzanne want her to do that neither of their other sisters could?

  “How long has it been since you took a vacation?”

  “Vacation? What’s that? I can’t afford to travel anywhere.”

  And even if I could, who would I go with?

  She drank the rest of her wine in one sip and thought about her drought of a love life. It was better that way. The whole “finding Prince Charming” thing had worked out for Suzanne, but Laura would never venture down that pothole-filled road. Men had always wanted one thing from her—sex. They’d used her then abandoned her, and she’d let them. But she didn’t ever want to be that girl again.

  “My point exactly. How would you like an all-expense-paid trip to the Caribbean?”

  Was she missing something? “Wait, you want me to go with you? Is that it?”

  “No, silly. I want you to go in my place.”

  “Really?” She sat ramrod straight.

  “Well, yeah. The only thing is that you’d have to pretend to be Dear Annie and deliver my speech, but before and after that you can relax in your very own villa. You’d have the place for an entire week. I’ll even pay for you to have a massage and a facial there.”

  Laura’s glasses slid down her nose. “D-deliver your speech? Pretend to be you? How in the world would I do that? We’re nothing alike, and did you forget that I had to get on my knees and beg the dean to excuse me from taking a speech class in college?”

  “Oh come on. That’s an exaggeration.”

  “I don’t have trouble speaking to one or two people at a time, but giving a speech to a big group, yikes. Just the idea gives me hives.”

  “You manage a store with a dozen employees now. Surely you’ve run meetings. It’s not like I’ve made a bunch of public appearances and people know what I look or sound like. For all they know I might be shy in person. And just think, you might meet someone there, hook up for the duration of your stay or longer.”

  She’d had her share of hook-ups in school, but afterward, they’d always left her feeling dirty and even more alone. The only real relationship she’d had was with a man almost as emotionally abusive as her father had been. “I’m not interested in that stuff.”

  “Oh, honey. Sex is a healthy part of life. How long has it been since you’ve been with a man?”

  Laura shuddered. Her relationship with Suzanne often had a mother-daughter dynamic rather than one of sisters. “I do not want to talk about that with you.”

  “I had issues with relationships too. It was inevitable after what we witnessed in our parents’ marriage. It affected us all. But you can’t let the demons win. Don’t you read my column? Empower your feminine strength. You are in charge of your sexuality.”

  “I do read your columns but I’m not like the women you write about. I don’t need a man to keep me satisfied, I have…” She scratched under Penelope’s chin, trying to come up with something to say.

  “What, your very own vibrator? That’s all well and good for occasional use, but it tends to be lacking after a while.”

  Laura cut her off. “Let’s not go into this again.” She’d already heard her sister’s opinion on the subject. Just because Suzanne had a degree in psychology didn’t mean she had the inner workings of Laura’s love life—or the lack thereof—all figured out.

  “Fine. But don’t try to deny that you spend all your time outside of work with your nose in one steamy romance book or another. There’s more to life than those silly dime-store novels you read.”

  Laura glanced at the e-book reader on the cushion beside her and her shoulders sank.

  “Wouldn’t you rather be in a romance than just read about one? You’re young and single and nearing your sexual peak. Go climb that mountain. And before you say anything about your looks, take a gander in the mirror. You’re a thousand times hotter than you give yourself credit for.”

  Suzanne could tell her a million times, but that didn’t make it true. “Having ginormous breasts doesn’t a hot chick make.”

  “Laura, for shame. You’re so pretty and don’t try to deny your intelligence or your wonderful sense of humor. You’re way more than your great breasts.”

  “Great? Not exactly how I’d describe them.” Her D-cup breasts had drawn guys to her like flies in high school and college, but not a single one of them wanted anything beyond a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. But Suzanne didn’t need to know her sordid history with men.

  “Do you know a single female on this planet who’s a hundred percent happy with every part of her body? None of us are. If you’d wear those contact lenses I got you last year instead of your glasses, men would notice that you have the most beautiful blue eyes and maybe you’d develop a little confidence in yourself. I wish I had your blonde hair too. You have no idea what a hottie you are. Just let go and have fun for a change.”

  Suzanne was just trying to get her to agree to go on the trip. “I’m not interested in a relationship now.”

  “So don’t have one, have a few days of mindless sex. And by the way, it’s time to get over your fear of men.”

  “I’m not afraid of men.” The conversation was making her skin itch.

  “Most of them aren’t abusers, Laura.”

  She refused to take the bait. “I don’t think I can give a speech, Suz. I might pass out or something.” But the vacation part sounded heavenly.

  ”I’ll mail you my wig if you want to be authentic although you don’t really need it since you’re already a blonde. And you have your own glasses. You can use notecards to keep you focused. All you have to do is read the speech and imagine the entire audience in their underwear.”

  “I hate to have to lie. Isn’t there any other way?” God, she didn’t want
to do it, but how could she refuse to help Suzanne?

  “It’s just a tiny white lie. I’ll understand if you say no but it would be a great opportunity. I have faith in you that you can do this.”

  A heavy cloud of guilt descended upon her. If she could muddle through the speech she could not only help out her sister, but she’d have a long-overdue vacation. She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ll do it.”

  Suzanne’s squeal nearly popped her eardrum. “You are the best sister in the whole world. You’re saving my life, kiddo. I owe you so big.”

  “No you don’t.” Somehow she’d have to get over her paralyzing fear of public speaking and do this for her sister. She prayed she didn’t screw it up and ruin Suzanne’s life instead of saving it.

  Chapter One

  Two weeks later

  Guy Pritchard adjusted his shorts so his gun wouldn’t castrate him when he took a seat. He spotted an overstuffed armchair in the lobby of the Pleasure Cove Island Resort Hotel that gave him a clear view of the reception desk without being so close as to be noticed.

  He set his coffee down, then opened the information folder he’d swiped the day before from a stack of them outside a meeting room. He’d removed most of the propaganda from the World Hedonist Society convention and replaced it with photos of and information about Harry Turiano, the fugitive he hoped to capture.

  Moving aside the flyer about the conference’s keynote speaker, he studied Harry’s booking photo, which he’d tucked all the way in the back. The man’s smug grin made him instantly dislike the bastard. He reminded Guy of every bully who’d ever messed with him during his childhood.

  He reread the information sheet the bail bond company who’d hired him had compiled on the high-profile fugitive.

  Charges: Trafficking in methamphetamine, resisting arrest with violence, three counts of tampering with a witness.