His Absolute Authority: A Scandalous Billionaire Love Story (Jessika, #3)

by du Lys, Cerys

  "I would like to think you can," I said. "I don't know how you would, though. I'm not sure it's possible."

  Evan nodded. "I don't know, either. I've been studying, though. See?" He grabbed his book with his free hand and showed it to me: Robbins Pathologic Basis for Disease. "Not that, um, you have a disease or anything. I found the medical student curriculum in one of the offices here and this book was on the required reading list."

  "Are you a doctor?" I asked.

  "No. Not quite. I'm an EMT. Or..." He paused and looked at me with a strained look for a moment. Not quite at me, though, but past me. Through me. "I was an EMT. I'm not sure there's really such a thing anymore, though. I wanted to go to medical school and become a doctor. Or maybe a PA. I didn't have a chance before everything kind of went crazy. That doesn't mean I can't still do it, though. It won't be the same, but..."

  "You're brave," I said. "It doesn't matter if you can't technically do it. I think you're very brave for wanting to do it anyways."

  He smiled. "Thanks."

  I felt shy, unsure if I should do this, but I decided to go for it. Leaning towards him, I kissed his cheek.

  I nearly fell out of my chair, paralyzed by the feeling of his warmth against my lips. My body froze, tightened, and I couldn't move away. Nor did I want to move away. The heat, the pleasure, from something so simple as a kiss on the cheek exploded inside me like a fiery blaze.

  "Sadie?" Evan said; but I was somewhere far away and couldn't hear him. "Sadie! Sadie, are you alright?"

  He pulled me away and held my shoulders, looking hard at me. With my lips gone from his cheek, I felt some semblance of regularity returning. I'd felt imbalanced while kissing him, knocked out of equilibrium, like gravity had ceased to exist and I was falling forever.

  "I don't think I should kiss you," I said, laughing, giddy.

  "Oh?" He smirked. "Why not?"

  "That was very strong. I felt heat—a lot of heat—and it felt nice but I couldn't think straight for a second. I've never felt that way before."

  "That's curious," he said. "I wonder... what if I kiss you?"

  I didn't know. I didn't know but I wanted to know. I was no stranger to kissing, but I hadn't ever kissed someone like that before. Who knew that a casual, thankful kiss on the cheek could feel so passionate? That was the only word I could think to describe it, like the fire of pure arousal licking at my lips.

  "Sorry," Evan said. "I didn't mean that in a flirtatious way. I was just thinking out loud. Hypothesizing, if you will. I do that a lot now. Trial and error, right? It's a good way to educate yourself as long as you're careful."

  "Oh," I said. I wanted him to kiss me now, though. Was he going to?

  He gazed at me, into me. Our eyes met. I hoped he saw something nice in my eyes, something he liked. I definitely liked his eyes. They were a sharp, piercing blue and reminded me of something I'd seen recently, but I couldn't quite remember what.

  Bang! Bang! Slam!

  Jumping up, startled, I looked towards the front of the library where the noise came from. Evan stood with me, taking a place right next to me.

  Staring at us through the library's front windows was a small group of the others. They slammed on the windows, trying to crack them open and break in. If they kept it up, they probably would, too.

  "They shouldn't be in here," I said. "How did they get in? There's a chain on the front gates."

  Evan sighed. "I broke the lock to get in here. I thought if I left the chain in place no one would notice. I guess that didn't work out."

  "I know you want to help them," I said. Forcing myself to focus through the intense warmth, I placed my hands on Evan's face and made him look at me. "You need to run, though. They want to kill you."

  "I know," he said. "It's alright."

  Dashing a few steps away, leaving me cold and alone, Evan ducked under the library table and grabbed something from beneath it. When he returned and stood up, he held a crossbow and an arrow quiver full of bolts in his hands.

  My mind reeled and I stared at him, conflicted. "Evan, you can't. Please, don't kill them. You need to run to safety."

  He flashed me a grin while strapping the quiver and crossbow to his back. "No one's going to get hurt," he said. Without warning, he swooped forward and took my hand in his. "Let's go."

  ~*~

  You can find the rest of this story here: Breathless

  Sample (Spice)

  Please enjoy this sample from the steamy BDSM romantic comedy, "The Prince's Pet," part of the Roland and Elizabeth series, by Cerys du Lys

  ~*~

  Prince Roland was not the sort of person who liked being left out of things. In fact, if it were up to him he'd be included in everything. And he was, for the most part, except he'd missed out on this sudden craze sweeping across the kingdom. Nobles from nearly every important, sophisticated house were bringing pets into their households, and it irked him that no one had bothered to tell him about this. Especially considering they didn't tell him right before he arrived at a private party and saw every one of his friends with a pet in tow.

  Not normal pets, really, but it didn't matter. Oh, Roland could get a dog if he wanted(which he didn't), or a cat(he had one of those and he really liked him, but the cat didn't do much). This wasn't about that, though. The noblemen and women had people as pets, apparently. He wasn't positive on the specifics, but according to the rundown one of his closer acquaintances gave him after the party, it was somewhat like gaining a mistress.

  Instead of feeding these people, you gave them money and then they did things for you and followed you around. Except, as was clarified rather immediately, it wasn't to do anything important or sensible like keeping track of finances or acting as a secretary or anything like that. This was purely pleasure. Also, you did need to feed them, because everyone had to eat, but that wasn't the main point of it.

  Then, after you found one, you toyed with them. There was a certain amount of niceness involved, but that came later. Teach them who was in command! If they didn't submit, they'd get no money! Though don't make them submit to anything impossible, or too difficult. Learn limits, and all of that.

  That's how his friend explained it to him, anyways. And it sounded odd, but since everyone Roland knew now had a pet, he wanted one, too. It helped that he had just learned he held quite a sizable amount of money in his name. He asked the treasury for an estimate and the man hastily wrote a "one" on a piece of paper, trailed by nine "zeroes." Gold coins at that. A Prince could do a lot of things with one billion gold coins.

  Thus, he set a day to travel to the nearby village of Rosedale and pick his pet from amongst the masses. Preferably a very poor girl, because presumably that worked better, but he also wanted a good one, too. Poor, but pretty, and someone who wasn't a complete idiot. Also she needed to stand out a bit, but not too much. He just wanted the perfect girl to be his pet and he didn't think that was too much to ask.

  ...

  Elizabeth grew up in Rosedale. She'd spent her entire life there, and she rather hated it. There wasn't anything to do. Or, there was a lot to do, but it wasn't worthwhile. She could scrub dishes at the inn if she liked, or play as a waitress for the same place, but that wasn't exciting. Do laundry, possibly, except the old women of the village loved that task and spent nearly all day every day sitting by the river and washing, washing, washing, along with gossiping, gossiping, gossiping. It got old very fast, and Elizabeth just didn't think she could do it for long.

  And, anyways, she was a pretty girl. She had the most beautiful black hair and plush pink lips. Why should she hang around with the older women, or let men ogle her in a skimpy waitress outfit? Granted, the waitress outfit looked gorgeous on her, hugging the curves of her body and pushing out her bust so it looked bigger than it already was; which, from what she knew, was rather big enough. And actually, the older women weren't so bad, but they kept trying to set her up with their grandsons(who usually ended up being twelve years old). She constan
tly needed to explain to these women that she was twenty-two and nearly twice as old as their grandchildren, over and over.

  None of it worked out well. She tried waitressing once and everyone thought she was a prostitute. Which, she wasn't, and if she were she wouldn't have slept with ninety-nine percent of the men who propositioned her(she held out that last percent just in case, but she'd never met a man who fit the bill). And when the older women weren't trying to set her up with their young grandsons, they constantly said she must pad her bra, and wouldn't listen when she denied it. She didn't like cleaning clothes much, anyways, and the batty women made it even worse.

  She did like sales, though, and her glasses made her come across as more knowledgeable and intelligent, but the shops she'd worked at disapproved of her tactics. Shameful, they said. Sell the customers what they want and don't hassle them. Was it her fault if she knew they'd need something else later. Or maybe they wouldn't need it, but if she convinced them they did she could sell it to them anyways. She made plenty of money, but the shopkeep she worked for didn't like it, and when she went to another shop to get a job the shopkeep from the first told the man from the second and...

  So, Elizabeth didn't do sales out of a shop anymore. She ran her own business instead. Nothing extravagant, but it provided money for everything she needed. Which was to say, quite a lot. She needed to pay taxes for her mother and father's home, plus her grandparents house. And her sister wasn't doing so well, so she helped her out, too. She wanted her little brother to get a decent education, instead of listening to the crazy old man prattle on by the well in the center of the village square; which was how most parents went about educating their children. Odd, that, since the man never said anything good. She didn't understand how parents thought he could teach their children when he didn't know anything himself, but most of them still did it.

  Elizabeth used books to tutor herself, which seemed best. Now, she knew she wasn't the smartest person ever, but she'd read quite a few books. Four hundred and seventy six at last count. Some of the books weren't useful, but she liked them still, and usually she gleaned some type of useful information from every book. Like, for example, she'd read a book about a girl pricking her finger on a spinning wheel and falling asleep for a hundred years and decided soon after she would never sew. Not that she thought the same would happen to her, but sewing was a bore, and whenever someone asked her to do it she told them how she was dreadfully frightened after reading that story and she just couldn't! Not ever, not at all.

  This worked out most of the time, and soon Elizabeth had a list of people to do things for her. She paid them, of course, but usually she gained more from it. Did a man need something stitched up, though privately without anyone knowing? She could do that, hide the evidence of his adulterous affair, but it'd cost ten silver coins. He paid her ten, she went down the street with his shirt and hired a woman to do the job for eight, and she profited two. That was what she did, lots of jobs like that. Message delivery, pot and pan repair, basics of this and that, along with more interesting tasks like finding out what Mr. McDougal was doing at the inn last Friday night and why he didn't come home until early in the morning.

  Elizabeth wanted to go to a bigger city, but she couldn't afford it. She made money, but everyone needed something in her family, so she ended up giving them most of what she earned. That was the problem with liking your family, she thought. They were nice people, though, and never asked for the money and showed appreciation when she helped them, so she was happy to do it, but...

  Then, one day, a herald announced the coming of the Prince. From the castle! Which was exciting, and Elizabeth might've gone to see him, but she had business to do and profited quite a bit from everyone heading to the town square. She hired a few street rats to run around and pick up some things, lose a few others, find more and put them somewhere else entirely. Mischief, in a manner of speaking, but when someone paid the right price she would do a lot of things.

  Except it didn't entirely work out that way. As she sat in her mother's kitchen, windows opened wide, reading through her checklist of tasks that needed doing in the couple of hours while the Prince was here, someone interrupted her.

  "Hello there," a man said from her window, peeking inside.

  Elizabeth jumped, startled, then looked up. She didn't bother hiding her book of tasks, because barely anyone in the village could read except for her and a few of the elderly. "Hello," she said. "May I help you?"

  Then she noticed who she was speaking with. The Prince! But wasn't he supposed to be in the center of town, doing whatever he'd come to do? The herald mentioned the Prince was looking for a pet, which made no sense. Still, most everyone she knew had brought their animals for him to inspect, hoping for a hefty price if one of them caught the Prince's eyes.

  "I'm Roland," he said. "The Prince here, um. And you are?"

  "Elizabeth," she said, prim and proper. "Did you come to me for a reason, Roland?"

  This was her break! She could do a job for the Prince and make enough money to pay for her family and leave Rosedale for somewhere more interesting.

  Except the Prince said, "Yes, I'm looking for a pet, and you've definitely caught my eye, so I'm choosing you."

  She stared at him. He looked at her with complete sincerity.

  "Are you serious?" she asked.

  He paused, unsure for a second. "Yes?"

  "You don't sound serious."

  "Well, no, I mean, I am. This is how this works. You'll come to the castle as my mistress, and I'll pay you a monthly allowance. I don't much care what you do with it. You can have a room to put your belongings in, if you want? There's lots of empty ones in the castle, so it shouldn't be an issue. It's a big place, you know?"

  "A mistress," Elizabeth said. "You haven't a wife, though. Neither are you courting someone, as far as I know. Is this a private affair? You know if you announce you have a mistress, people will know you're secretly dating a girl, don't you?"

  "I'm not courting anyone, though." Roland scratched his chin. "Um, maybe that's why it's called a pet? I know some of my friends aren't in relationships and they have one, so I think it's fine. I should ask about that, though."

  "So you don't know what you're doing?" she asked.

  "I know what I'm doing," Roland replied. "In a manner of speaking."

  "So you know what you're doing, but you don't know how to do it?"

  "I'm new at this. You're being awfully confrontational, aren't you? It's not good behavior for a pet. And since I've claimed you as that, you've got to do what I say."

  "I think that's the wrong way of it, because you haven't paid me yet, and from what you said that's part of the deal."

  Prince Roland held up a finger, gesturing for her to wait, and unstrapped a money pouch from the belt at his waist. He held it through the window for her. Elizabeth took the bag in her dainty fingers and untied the string holding it shut. Quick, sorting the money into piles, she counted it.

  "Ten gold coins," she said, hiding her excitement. "Is that all?"

  "What do you mean is that all? That's a lot of money." The Prince looked nervous, though. His face was red and sweat dripped down his brow.

  "I want fifteen."

  "Fine, fine!" He rummaged through his pockets and brought up five more gold coins(no silver this time), passing them to her through the window.

  "I've changed my mind. I'd like twenty now."

  Again, the Prince grabbed for more money in his pockets, but this time he hesitated before handing it to her. "Wait a moment—"

  Drats! Maybe she shouldn't have pressed her luck, but she could tell he wasn't much of a bargainer and she thought she could get away with it. He was going to rescind on their deal and take it all back, wasn't he?

  "I'd like to say, first," he said, "this pet business, there's a certain amount expected of you, alright? And this is it! No more money! Just twenty, or I'll find another pet. That's too expensive."

  Elizabeth sighed a brea
th of relief. "Alright, yes, twenty is a good price." Twenty gold coins! She could do a lot with that. "What are the requirements?"

  "There's sex," he said. "Also, you've got to listen to me."

  "Sex, alright." She turned to a blank page in her notebook and jotted this down. "With you, I assume?"

  "Yes, yes, with me."

  "So this is like prostitution?" The Prince was definitely in the one percent she would prostitute herself to.

  "No! I don't need to hire a prostitute! I'm the Prince."

  "Well, it is like it, though, since you're paying me and I'm supposed to have sex with you. We can call it whatever you like, but I'm just spelling out the terms of our agreement here."

  The Prince furrowed his brow and scratched his head. "It's somewhat like that, but not entirely. Don't say that in front of other people, though. I have a reputation to uphold."

  "Is that part of this agreement, too?" she asked with a smirk.

  "Yes, no mentioning prostitution."

  "Alright, what else?"

  As it turned out, there wasn't a lot. The Prince wanted sex, and for her to listen to him, and he thought that was just about it, but he wasn't entirely sure and they might renegotiate at a later date. Elizabeth agreed, had him sign the bottom of the page with the list of rules, then she signed below him.

  "It's not quite legally binding," she said, "but it's to remind us of what we've agreed upon."

  "Yes, well—speaking of that." Roland was inside the house now, and looked to the ceiling, fidgeting with his hands. "I'd like to test the goods, if you will? Before finalizing anything. Purely business, you realize?"

  "You want to have sex with me?" she asked. "Right here?"

  "Maybe in a bed. Do you have beds in this village? I can never tell what you do or don't have. It's so difficult to keep track."

  Elizabeth practically dragged Roland to her bedroom. He followed her, whining and complaining, especially up the stairs, and saying if she harmed him she'd be arrested.