She removed her helmet, jammed a cap on her head, and again decided not to waste time by pulling on shorts and a t-shirt. She didn’t care that she was wearing a swimsuit. How she looked, or what other people might think of her, wasn’t what this was all about. She set off at a slow jog. She was too keyed up and concentrating too fiercely on keeping her breathing even, to appreciate the stunning views.
When the end of the course was in sight, Ruby’s shuffling movements could barely be termed running at all. She was focused on was the fence-lined chute leading to the finish archway. Onlookers clapped and cheered. She heard her name, and spotted her little cluster of personal supporters jumping up and down and screaming at the tops of their lungs. Mike and Annie, Jules and Alex, Lani, her workmates, and even her parents, who’d flown up specially from Nelson.
She crossed the finish line. And as she received her medal, she felt so damn proud of what she’d accomplished she thought she might explode. Even though every competitor who completed the course received a medal, Ruby felt like a winner.
Then she saw Kyan pushing his way toward her, their year-old daughter clasped tightly in his arms, and Ruby didn’t just feel like she’d won, she knew in the depths of her soul that she had.
Sarah grinned at Ruby. “Mama,” she crowed, and kissed Ruby with her sticky, lollipop-red lips.
A flash of bright gold caught her attention. She nudged Kyan.
Across a seething mass of competitors and onlookers, they gazed at the old man who’d manipulated their lives. Kyan inclined his head. Ruby waved. Despite all the pain and anguish Pieter caused, how could they not forgive the man who’d given them Sarah?
Pieter acknowledged them with a raised hand and a satisfied smile before he vanished.
A cool breeze whipped straight off the sea. It whispered to Ruby of other men—men who might still be trapped in cold hard crystalline prisons, awaiting their chance of redemption.
She shivered. She’d had a taste of Kyan’s prison. And every now and then she woke in the night, her face wet with tears, her throat scratchy and sore as though she’d been screaming. She hoped with all her heart the other Crystal Warriors would find life-mates who loved them enough to fight for them and set them free. Whatever their crimes, she didn’t believe any of them deserved such a terrible punishment.
Ruby turned to her Crystal Warrior, her life-mate and the love of her life. He didn’t care that she hadn’t yet shed the extra pregnancy pounds she’d put on, and even when she did, she’d probably never be slim. He didn’t care that her body was scarred from the car accident. And he didn’t give a damn that she was sweaty and in dire need of a shower. When he hugged her close and a camera flashed in their faces, instead of feeling self-conscious, Ruby gave the reporter what he wanted—a genuine mega-watt smile.
The End
***
If you enjoyed this book, please tell your friends and consider writing a short review. The author thanks you very much for your support.
You might also enjoy these other books by Maree Anderson, all available wherever electronic books are sold:
Lightning Rider
http://www.lightningriderbook.com
Freaks of Greenfield High (Book 1 of the Freaks series)
http://www.freaksofgreenfieldhigh.com
Freaks in the City (Book 2 of the Freaks series)
http://www.freaksinthecity.com
***
Coming Soon:
THE SEER TRILOGY
Seer’s Hope (Book 1)
Seer’s Promise (Book 2)
Seer’s Choice (Book 3)
***
Glossary of Kiwi Terms and Slang
Arse
- ass, bottom
Arsehole
- asshole
All Blacks
- New Zealand’s national rugby team
Aussie
- Australian person
Bench
(i.e. kitchen bench) – counter
Black Caps
- New Zealand’s national cricket team
Bollocks
(e.g. some such bollocks) - rubbish; stupid thing i.e. emphasizing something considered ridiculous
Boot (of a vehicle)
- trunk
Bugger
- a mild swearword
Bugger off
- tell someone to go away
Buttie
(e.g. bacon buttie) - buttered bread eaten as a sandwich with a filling, such as chips or bacon
Bum
- bottom
Chips
- crisps; thin-cut deep-fried potato wedges usually served with battered fish
Coffee Plunger
- French Press
Crikey
- a very mild expletive
Crook
- sick, unwell
Do
(e.g. private do) - function, party, celebration
Doss down
- sleep in a rough or makeshift bed
Dressing gown
- robe
Duvet
- comforter, quilt
Fat chance
- unlikely (that something will happen)
Jandals
- flip-flops, thongs, Japanese sandals
Kiwi
- flightless bird native to New Zealand, national icon; slang for New Zealander
Knackered
- extremely tired; broken, not working properly and beyond repair
Kumara
- sweet potato (a root vegetable that is usually eaten boiled, roasted or baked)
Mum
- mom
Numnit
- idiot, dummy
Paracetamol
- mild analgesic used for the relief of pain and fever, available at pharmacies and supermarkets (Panadol is a common brand)
Pissed
- drunk
Pissed as a chook
- really drunk
Pissed off
- angry, annoyed, irritated
Plunket
- an organization that provides support services for the health and wellbeing of children under five
Plonked
(e.g. plonked herself down) – plunked
R.N.Z.A.F
- Royal New Zealand Air Force
Serviette
- napkin
Sod it
- mild expletive.
Sodding
(e.g. “no need to sodding well rub salt in the wound”) - mild expletive, like “bloody”
Stoush
- a fight or brawl
Sucks the big kumara
(e.g. “Wow. That really sucks the big kumara.”) - expression used when you run out of luck and things aren’t going your way
Sussed
(e.g. “hasn’t got it sussed yet”) - figured out
Takeaways
- takeout
Tap
- faucet
Telly
- TV, television
Togs
- swimsuit
Yellow Pages
- directory of New Zealand businesses and their contact details
***
JADE’S CHOICE
By Maree Anderson
Book Three of The Crystal Warriors Series
A young woman, desperate to provide her chronically ill sister the care she needs, decides to sell herself. But who could have foreseen her first client would be the alien Crystal Warrior destined to be her life-mate? Or that this complex, compelling man who’s captured her heart, plans to kill himself rather than risk being imprisoned in his cursed crystal a third time. She’ll fight to save him, but it could be a losing battle… because he’s still in love with the woman who refused to bond with him decades ago.
Finalist: Romance Writers of New Zealand Clendon Award for full-length romantic manuscript
***
JADE’S CHOICE
Copyright 2012 by Maree Anderson
Published by Maree Anderson at Smashwords
Cover Desi
gn by Rob Anderson
Formatting by Rob and Maree Anderson
This novel is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All rights reserved; the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form whatsoever in any country whatsoever without the express permission of the author is forbidden.
***
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
***
A Note To My Readers:
Due to difficulties with file conversion in the epub format, regretfully the correct accents over some Chinese pinyin words will be missing from this Smashwords edition. My apologies to any readers of Mandarin.
***
JADE’S CHOICE
Chapter One
Jade exhaled a shaky breath, braced herself, and walked into the light, ultra-modern hotel lobby. The doors whooshed shut behind her, cocooning her from the heat and noise outside. She rubbed her arms, maintaining the pretense she was simply chilled by an abrupt transition from muggy summer heat to air-conditioning, because to admit the truth was to acknowledge how damn close she was to turning on her heel and making tracks to the nearest bus stop.
Her hand crept to her neck. She rubbed her pendant between her fingers, worrying the deep green stone’s smooth surface like a devout Catholic coaxing absolution from rosary beads.
Absolution. She sure could do with a hefty dose of that right about now.
She halted mid-step, blinking. Wow. Color her impressed. The grand staircase mentioned on the hotel website really was grand. But it wouldn’t do to stand there, gaping like an unsophisticated teenager who’d never set foot in such an exclusive hotel in her life before. It wouldn’t do at all. So thrusting back her shoulders, she stalked over to the lifts projecting “I’ve seen it all before” for all she was worth.
When the doors to the lift opened, it was empty—thankfully. Her heartbeat did a crazy dance. She ground the heel of her hand into her breastbone, and then went back to worrying her pendant. As the lift rose, her mind drifted to the man she’d arranged to meet. Given his accent and his formal way of speaking, she reckoned he’d be in his fifties. Tall and lanky, debonair. Excruciatingly polite. Reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. Sober pinstriped suit with a handkerchief peeping out from his breast pocket. Highly polished shoes—
The lift halted at one of the hotel’s topmost floors. Jade forced herself to exit. She smoothed her dress down her thighs, stroked a hand down her hair, ran a finger across her teeth to remove any lipstick that might have migrated from her lips. She huffed into her palm and sniffed her breath. Still minty-fresh. Yay. She even managed to summon a shred of pride that her knees didn’t wobble as she headed down the carpeted corridor, searching for the room number she’d been given.
Here it was. No backing out now. She rapped smartly on the door before she could change her mind.
The door opened immediately, as though he’d been lurking inside watching for her arrival through the peephole. She skittered back a step. Her heart felt like it was about to leap from her chest and she didn’t know whether to be flattered or totally squicked by the thought of him watching for her arrival, so she stuck out her hand. “I’m Jade.”
“I know.” He grasped her hand. His shrewd eyes caught her gaze and dared her to look directly at him instead of slightly past him, over his shoulder, like she was distancing herself from what she was about to do.
She’d have to do more than just look at him soon enough, so she answered his challenge and met his gaze.
Bad move. His eyes sucked her down into their fathomless depths. She couldn’t look away. Heat flared across her cheeks. Some part of her understood she was being rude, wanted to say something witty instead of standing there like a lump and gawking. But witty words—any words at all—escaped her, and she continued to gaze at him, transfixed.
Only when his attention flicked to a twittering trio of designer bag-laden matrons exiting the lift did their strange interlude shatter.
Jade let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and scrabbled about for some shreds of her lost dignity as he released her hand. With a courtly gesture, he ushered her into his suite.
The room shouted exclusivity. Even the air smelled as though it’d been deliberately perfumed with the scent of opulence and discreet, money-is-no-object expense. She inhaled the artificial, almost too-clean, slightly too-cold air, and shivered from more than just the chill of the room. He wasn’t at all what she’d expected given their brief, businesslike phone conversation. Blue jeans, black boots, black jacket over his white shirt—pretty trendy for an old man. And he was old—at least seventy, she estimated. His face shrieked his age from every deeply-seamed wrinkle. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Stone,” she finally managed to say.
Playing for time so she could shrug off her dismay, she wandered through the sitting room area to stare out the window. The view of the Sydney Opera House, its remarkable roofline evoking a fleet of tall ships with billowing sails, stole her breath. “Wow. That’s just… wow!”
Ack. How completely unsophisticated did that sound? So much for trying to come across as worldly-wise and up for anything. Maybe she should leave now, give up this ridiculous idea. She wasn’t cut out to be a… a….
She flinched as the ugly word echoed in her mind. She was dying inside, a part of her shriveling in shame, but she had no other choice. She had to go through with it.
When she turned back to him, he was observing her closely, head cocked to one side, brows crinkled. Probably sensed she’d been on the brink of doing a runner. She threw him her most practiced social smile—the one designed to put men at ease, have them preening and boasting so she didn’t have to exert herself to say anything, and wouldn’t feel obliged to fill a gap in the conversation and risk revealing anything about herself.
It usually worked a treat. But not this time.
The silence lengthened. Her face started to ache from maintaining that bright, “I find you so fascinating—tell me all about yourself” smile.
“You have not eaten.” A statement, not a question.
Jade was wondering how on earth he’d guessed she skipped breakfast, when her stomach chose that precise moment to rumble.
“I, too, am hungry,” he said. “And I am reliably informed the hotel’s brasserie provides a particularly pleasant dining experience. Or perhaps you would prefer a pre-lunch cocktail?”
“I’ll pass on the cocktail, thanks.” Despite the allure of floating through the next few hours in an alcoholic haze, Jade wanted—needed—to experience this encounter honestly, with all senses engaged. If she couldn’t handle intercourse with a stranger sober, with her eyes wide open to the consequences of her actions, then she sure as heck wouldn’t be able to look in a mirror without heaving when this was all over.
“Would you be very offended if we just ate in your room, Mr. Stone?” Sitting through a formal lunch minding her Ps and Qs would only give the fluttering butterflies in her stomach the opportunity to morph into fang-filled creatures of the night.
“Not at all. I have discovered room service prepare the most wonderful toasted sandwiches—”
“Sounds good to me.” Jade sank into the nearest armchair and tried not to fidget as he phoned down for food. He hadn’t bothered to ask her preference before ordering but she didn’t call him on it. This wasn’t a date with a potential boyfriend, where she needed to assert herself and let him
know straight up she wasn’t about to let him make all the decisions in the relationship. If he wanted to order for her, then she’d let him.
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