Twice Tempted (Holland Springs)

by Marquita Valentine

  “I can’t believe we found—”

  “The Garden of Eden,” he finished.

  Leafy plants, orchids, roses and a multitude of flowers that she had no name for grew together as no plants of the tropical and evergreen variety should. But there they were, cohabiting in harmony. Butterflies fluttered and dragonflies zoomed. A tall waterfall tumbled over rocks and splashed down into a crystal clear pool of water.

  The real Holland Springs.

  Hands clasped tight they walked through the parted ivy and up to the pool of water.

  Standing at the edge, she looked down, relieved to see nothing but a sandy bottom even as her palms grew damp in anticipation. She licked her lips, unable to say anything.

  He clasped her waist and slowly turned her to face him. “Tell me.”

  “I love you, Christian,” she said simply. No embellishment needed.

  “Those are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard,” he whispered before his mouth came down on hers. A kiss of fulfilled promises and a future together. A kiss that mended even the smallest pieces of her broken heart.

  Reluctantly, she pulled away and began to unbutton her shirt. He watched her, his face intense as she removed her clothes. His clothes quickly joined hers. She couldn’t help but admire him. The way his lean body gleamed in the sun. The rose tattoo on his muscular chest. The way his strong thighs gave way to muscular calves. Even his feet and hands were perfection.

  “You’re beautiful,” she whispered, reaching out to touch him.

  He sucked in his stomach when her fingers caressed him and she gave a low laugh. But it was short lived as his erection stood hard and thick between them. He gave her a wicked smile and wrapped his hand around it, slowly working it up and down its considerably length.

  “Do you think this is beautiful as well?”

  Her mouth became dry as the Sahara while the Amazon ran between her thighs. She tried swallowing, but was unsuccessful until he turned away and dove into the pool of water. She watched his body in motion, gliding through the depths until he broke the surface and shook out his hair.

  “Get in with me.”

  “It’s too deep,” she said when her mouth returned to normal.

  He swam her way and held out his arms. “I’ll catch you.”

  Taking a deep breath, she jumped in. Water surrounded her, but instead of the shock of cold, the water was perfect. Tiny bubbles tickled and caressed her skin. She was hauled to the surface, making full contact with his hard body. She tangled her fingers in his hair and brought his face down to hers.

  Their lips danced, their tongues mated. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved them, until the waterfall splashed down on their heads and shoulders. She threw back her head and laughed, feeling free and joyous.

  A slight move to the right and her back bumped up against the mossy side. His erection probed at her and she twisted to bring him inside of her, but he stopped her. He lifted her high in the air, his hot mouth opening over her nipple and tugging deeply.

  She moaned low in her throat, letting him lower her to the edge and pushing her down. Soft grass tickled her back. Her thighs fell apart. He bent his head, the soft touch of his scalding tongue seeking her most intimate of parts. He devoured her, ate and licked at her, until she trembled and cried out his name.

  “I don’t have protection with me,” he panted, letting her go. He lay his head on her stomach.

  “The basket,” she said, running her fingers through his wet hair. “I put some in the basket last night.”

  He pushed himself out of the water and strode to the basket. Two beats of her heart later, he was beside her. Droplets of water rained down on her skin as he covered her, his hands on her hips.

  “Who do you belong to?” He entered her, slowly. Until she was stretched and filled.

  “You. The man I love.”

  Clasping her wrists in one hand, he stretched her arms above her head. “Mine. Always and forever.”

  His thrusts started slowly, but quickly worked to a feverish pitch as he stroked her, holding her body prisoner beneath his. She grabbed his arms, holding onto him like he was her anchor in a carnal storm as it raged over her.

  Christian looked down on the woman under him. She was heaven and drawing this out was hell. She was his and had always been. She humbled him. She amazed him.

  Zoe loved him.

  He buried his face in her neck, his muscles gathering and flexing as he moved. As they came together in utter perfection. He was so close, but he had to hear her words again. “Tell me you love me.”

  “I love you.”

  His body jerked. “Tell me again.”

  “I love you. Only you. Always you.”

  He shouted her name as he came, his breath leaving his body in great gulps as he cradled her close to him. “I love you, Zoe,” he remembered saying before they drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  The moon had risen high in the night sky by the time he opened his eyes, but he could see Zoe as clearly as if they were under a noon sun. She smiled sleepily at him, pulling the soft blankets he’d discovered in the basket over them.

  “Is this a dream? Are you really an enchantress after all?”

  She shook her head, her pretty eyes soft. “No, but I promise to be the woman I should be, the woman I’m meant to be, and the woman you deserve.”

  His heart pounded against his chest, not caring if she saw the tears in his eyes. “You already are, love. You already are.”

  Epilogue

  Seven years later

  Christian knelt down and looked at his five year old twins. The eldest, Jude, had dark hair like Zoe with his pale blue eyes while Waverly was all sunshine-colored hair and pretty green eyes like her mother.

  “Now remember, you stick up for each other. If someone teases your sister, Jude, you defend her, and, Waverly, if someone is mean to your brother, you defend him.”

  Jude nodded and shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “I can defend myself and Waverly.”

  Waverly shook her head, making the large green bow in her hair wobble. “Mummy said we’re to tell our teacher.”

  “Oh, quite right. Well, Mummy does know best.” Christian tapped his forehead. “She’s got loads of brains. Luckily, you two take after her.”

  The bell rang.

  “It’s time for them to go inside,” Zoe said, her soft drawl and calm manner easing his anxiousness. She gave their children a big grin. “Y’all have my old Kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Phelps.”

  “Can’t we home school? Perhaps a private tutor?” Christian stood.

  “But we want to go to school. Please, daddy?” his children simultaneously protested.

  “Please, daddy?” Zoe mimicked with a saucy wink directed his way.

  Christian capitulated, taking Waverly’s hand while Zoe took Jude’s. “Okay, but just for this year.”

  The trio cheered.

  After walking them to their classroom, he gave his wife a sidelong glance.

  “Ready for some alone time, Mrs. Romanov?” After eight years of marriage and two children, she looked as beautiful as the day he’d met her. More so with baby number three on the way. Their little ‘whoops’ as he liked to call the baby girl.

  “We’d better enjoy it while we can,” she said, lacing her fingers through his. “Plus we need to pick out a name.”

  He brought her hand to his lips for a fleeting kiss. “I’m still not entirely convinced you named the boy after me.”

  She shook her head. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe he was hers. Such a family man. He pinched her bottom. As wicked as ever.

  She smacked his hand. “Your middle name is Jude,” she pointed out.

  “Have you taken a look at your laptop’s history files lately? All I’ve seen is Jude Law’s digital images. A less confident man would be suffering right about now.”

  “It’s for my next novel. You’re not jealous, are you?” she teased. “He is staring in the
movie you’re financing and agreed to headline a benefit for B.T.S.” Christian headed the board for the organization. They’d had a change of heart, issuing a statement that in effect said that even adults deserved second chances. He’d stepped up and had taken over, establishing the charity in several foreign countries. He’d begun taking parts again, in films that spoke to his heart and won critical acclaim.

  “You completely fangirled Jude when he said hello while we were on holiday in Majorca.”.

  “But who got to go back to our penthouse and have bubble bath fun with me?”

  He pointed at his chest.

  “And if you play your cards right, I’ll let you do it again before I get too big to fit in there with you.”

  He scooped her up in his arms and she squealed. “I’ll just have a larger tub installed with winches, if need be.”

  “You really shouldn’t say that to a pregnant lady.”

  They drew smiles and curious stares while he carried her to their SUV.

  “What should one say?” Love was bright in his blue eyes.

  “I love you. What else?”

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  Then she kissed him.

  Keep Reading for an excerpt from Marquita’s next novel in the Holland Springs Series, Third Time’s A Charm!

  Author Acknowledgements

  Eastern North Carolina’s history is rich in legends and folktales. From Blackbeard the Pirate to the Devil’s Stomping Grounds, these tales of larger-than-life residents and the supernatural have been passed down through generations. Tales that usually have a moral or a lesson to learn to prevent Very Bad Things from happening.

  I decided that I wanted a legend, that if believed and followed, Very Good Things would happen. And so Holland Springs was born! I do hope you’ve enjoyed Zoe and Christian’s story and will return to Holland Springs in September when Book Two in the series, Third Time’s A Charm, comes out.

  I am so grateful for the support and encouragement I received from so many people during the writing of Twice Tempted. Katharine Ashe, Georgeann Brophy , Michelle Kenny, Andris Bear and Ava Stone, you ladies have my forever thanks for your keen eyes, editing, questions and comments.

  And I cannot forget my chaptermates from Heart of Carolina Romance Writers. You guys are amazing!

  Last but not least, I want to thank my mother, Gwen Valentine, for introducing me to the wonderful world of Romance Novels.

  Third Time’s A Charm, Holland Springs Series, Book 2

  Coming September 2012

  If it hadn’t been for the vultures circling above the Johnson’s old tobacco field, Rose Holland would’ve never seen the dead body.

  “Holy crap!”

  Slamming on the breaks, she put the Jeep in park and grabbed her cell phone, jabbing at the buttons. Nothing happened and she looked at the screen. “No signal,” she muttered and tossed it into the passenger seat. Of course not, she was thirty miles outside of Holland Springs, North Carolina. And that, according to her outdated Garmin, was smack dab in the middle of nowhere.

  Rose had two choices: Wait. Or drive to town and get help.

  She should wait. It was the decent thing to do and, eventually, someone would come along. State troopers loved to patrol this stretch of highway that the locals referred to as a speed trap.

  Tapping her fingers against the dash, she said, “Any minute now.”

  A vulture landed and poked at the arm.

  Bile rose in her throat, then pity flooded her heart. He, judging by the large shape she thought it to be a man, might have a family at home. Missing him. Worrying and out of their minds for him.

  Before she could question her sanity, she’d unbuckled her seat belt, thrown open the door and now stood at the edge of the road. Staring.

  Steeling her nerves, she began striding to the field. Her foot slipped on mud made by last night’s rainstorm and she hit the ground with a splat. Cold water seeped through her shorts, jolting her. This was ridiculous. No one in their right mind would even think of checking out a dead body. But something inside of her insisted that he wasn’t dead.

  She tracked another vulture as it landed. It too began pecking, but at a bare foot. Glancing to the right, she breathed through her nose, trying to calm her racing heart. Tire tracks and footprints intermingled along the ditch bank. Deep gashes in the soft earth held puddles of water. Was he a victim of a hit and run?

  A third vulture landed.

  Those ugly things had always disgusted her, even more so by their nature’s garbage disposal reputation. Pushing away from the ground and running at the birds, she waved her arms and shouted, “Go away! Shoo, you nasty things. Shoo!”

  After a good ten minutes the vultures decided that either he wasn’t worth it or she’d made it impossible for them to properly digest. She dropped to her knees in the loamy soil a few feet away from the body, panting and waiting for the stench of rotting flesh to hit her.

  It never came.

  She turned and the wind whipped her corkscrew curls around, blinding her to the man sprawled over rows of dirt.

  He groaned and her mouth dried out.

  Rose shoved her hair out of her face. Feet. She could handle looking at his feet. Another groan and this time his pinky toe moved.

  Oh God! Was that a death twitch?

  Finally, she made her gaze travel to his chest. No other spot but there. The tattered remnants of a button down shirt rose and fell with shallow breaths.

  “You’re alive,” she shrieked, scrambling to her feet and running to him. She stopped just inches from the body. His golden hair was matted down and dirt smeared his face.

  His face.

  “It’s you.”

  Alexander Romanov’s lids slitted open, revealing moss green eyes glinting with pain. “Sorry to disappoint,” he rasped, his British accent more pronounced than usual. He groaned again.

  “Why didn’t you make the vultures go away?” She dropped to her knees, searching his beautiful face. But for a cut at the corner of his mouth, it was unmarred. His body, however, was an entirely different story.

  Almost every exposed inch had a shallow cut or bruise. It looked as though someone had used him as a punching bag.

  He grimaced. “Can’t move me arm and my ankle hurts.”

  She pursed her lips at him. “Maybe you should rethink your circle of friends.”

  “I’ll take that under consideration.” A ghost of a smile appeared and then he coughed, a spasm of pain covering his face.

  She sat back on her heels. “As nice as you were to me the last time I saw you, I should leave your sorry tail out here to rot.”

  “Sorry, love,” he said as his eyes closed and the skin around his mouth turned white, “Couldn’t help myself.”

  “But now you can?” Now he could act like her knew her? Only a month ago, they’d gone out and the very next day, when he’d come back to her store with his cousin in tow, he’d been rude. The temperature had dropped to match her mood—deathly cold. Though both of them had pretended not to notice.

  “Can we discuss this later?” Once again his green eyes focused on her and the need to help him, really anyone in pain, negated the desire to leave him wallowing in his own misery.

  Rose scanned the field. To her left it lay empty, not even the Johnson’s fluorescent green tractor was around. To her right there were woods but it wasn’t deer season, so she couldn’t flag down a hunter.

  She sighed in resignation. “Either I can go get help or—”

  “No!” He struggled to rise, managing to get into a sitting position.

  “Why not?”

  Shaking his head, he waved her question away with his hand. “Help me up, Rosebud,” he ordered.

  She raised her brows and crossed her arms. “Ask nicely, Alexander.”

  “Call me Sasha,” he’d said with a wicked grin, “All my friends do”.

  Well, Sasha sure had a funny way of treating his friends. Why couldn’t someone else have found hi
m? She had enough going on in her life without this. Him.

  “Please?” he asked.

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Sasha grunted. It was harder than she thought. He hated asking anyone for anything. He hated being helpless.

  As she leaned forward to help him, black curls tumbled onto his blood, dirt and God-only-knew-what-else-covered chest. He had the urge to shove her away, desperate that this filth not touch her. Not even the silky tips of her hair.

  The scent of night blooming jasmine drifted to him, displacing the odor of violence. He breathed deeply. Scanning the road, he found her Jeep up the small incline. “Four wheel drive?”

  “No, but I think that between the two of us, we can get you to it. The closest hospital is fifty minutes away, but—”

  “No, no hospital. It’s looks much worse than it is.” Turning to his good leg, he put most of his weight on it, then tried the other. A fresh wave of pain rose over him and he had to clench his teeth from crying out.

  Rose’s arms came around him, her slight form a human crutch. Suddenly, she stood, ramming his dislocated shoulder back in place.

  Stars sparked, then his vision blackened. “Son of a bitch.” Breathing through his nose, he fought down the nausea as his vision returned to normal.

  She looked up, her eyes shadowed. Did she feel any pity for him? Anything at all? Did he want her pity? Oh, good God, this was quickly turning into a let’s-talk-about-our-feelings moment. Although it was all in his head. Yeah, because having conversations with oneself is entirely sane.

  “Do you want me to take you to your cousin’s house?” she asked.

  “He’s not home and I don’t have a key.” And as things stood, he wasn’t welcome there.

  Her arms tightened around him. “Can you still make it to my Jeep?”

  Nodding once, he began to hobble towards the small SUV. Of course, he could do this.

  He’d done it before.