"Haven't you?"
"No, I haven't. I just..." Ariel hesitated, unsure of what to say, how to say it. He'd gotten her so rattled, so confused, wrecking havoc with her emotions and cracking her control. He always had. She put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, trying to think, trying to regain her detachment by shutting him out for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts and reestablish some semblance of control over herself.
"Dammit, Ariel, don't do that!" he shouted.
Her eyes flew open.
"Don't shut me out. Not now. Not again."
"Shut you out?" she murmured, puzzled.
"I let you get away with it once. Hell, I let you get away with it for twenty-five years! But that's over. No more America's sweetheart, do you understand me?" He crossed the room again, grasping her by the upper arms before she could think to move away. "It's just you and me, right here, right now. A man and a woman." He gave her a little shake. "So deal with it."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The hell you don't." He flung her away from him so forcefully that she almost fell back against the bed. "You use your image like a shield to keep people from getting too close. Hell—" he paced to the open door and back again "—you use it like a damn weapon. Ariel Cameron, America's perfect little girl, all grown up into the perfect little lady. A cool, cheery little Stepford wife. Impeccable manners. Unshakable calm. Nothing gets to her. Tell me," he said, crowding her back against the edge of the bed, instinctively trying to intimidate her with his greater size and strength, "doesn't it get tiring, keeping up the facade, day after day, year after year? Don't you ever long to let the real you out once in a while? To say, 'The hell with it. This is who I am, take it or leave it'?"
Ariel clenched her hands at her sides, fighting the urge to do just that. "It's not a facade," she insisted. "It's who am."
"No." He reached out and, very gently, touched the soft, velvety skin of her flushed cheek. "This is who you are. This vibrant, passionate woman who—"
"No." Ariel shook her head, clenching her hands tighter, leaving imprints of her nails in her soft palms. "No, it's not," she said vehemently.
Too vehemently.
Zeke frowned and took a half step back to look at her. Really look at her. She was rigid, her hands clenched at her sides, her face pale, her eyes wide. Puzzled realization dawned. "What are you so afraid of?" he murmured.
She dropped her gaze, quickly, protectively, and tried to back away but the bed blocked her movement. "I'm not afraid of anything," she insisted, but the tone was weak and unconvincing.
"Yes, you are. You're terrified." He put his hand under her chin, gently forcing it up. "Of what?"
Ariel kept her gaze lowered, refusing to look at him, refusing to answer.
"What are you afraid of, Ariel?" he persisted. "Me?"
She lifted her gaze, then, her eyes cool and disdainful, haughty as an outraged queen. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Of what, then?" he prodded relentlessly. "Yourself?"
She exploded into action, slapping his hand away as if it burned her skin. "All right, yes!" she spat, suddenly all fire and fury. The outraged ice queen was gone; a flaming virago had taken her place. "Yes, I'm afraid of myself. Does that satisfy you? Does that make you happy? I'm afraid of myself and what happens when I let my emotions take over and I lose control. I'm afraid of—No—" She twisted away from him when he would have reached for her again. "Don't touch me." She came up against her dressing table. "I don't want you to touch me."
"I have to."
"I said no," she shouted and reached behind her, fumbling for something to throw. She came up with a silver-lidded crystal powder box. "Stay away from me."
Zeke shook his head and kept coming.
Ariel cocked her arm and let fly, fully intending to brain him. The heavy crystal box missed his head but hit his shoulder, sending a shower of expensive face powder down the front of his custom-tailored tuxedo.
"Oh, now see what you made me do!" she wailed, horrified by her behavior.
He caught her wrist and there was a brief, unequal struggle before Ariel collapsed, sobbing, into his arms. He gathered her close, trying to soothe and comfort her—and valiantly ignored the fact that he was more turned on than he had ever been in his life. Who'd have thought his Ariel, his sweet, cool perfect Ariel, would have the temper of a shrew?
"Sweetheart, don't," he murmured. "Don't cry. It's all right."
"It's not all right!" she said and tried to push herself back out of his arms.
He simply gathered her closer and held on tight.
"This doesn't happen with anyone else," she sniffed, resigning herself to being held captive in his arms. "I don't shout at people. I don't throw things. I don't get mad or cry or—" she flashed a vengeful look at him from under her damp lashes "—or go around wanting to tear another woman's hair out by the roots. I'm a nice, normal sane woman."
"America's sweetheart," Zeke agreed, laughter lurking in his voice.
"Yes! No! Oh, I don't know anymore." She bounced her curled fist off his shoulder. "It's not funny, Zeke. I'm dead serious about this. Ever since you came back into my life, I just don't know who I am anymore."
"And it scares you, not knowing."
"Yes. It terrifies me. I'm afraid that... that I'll..."
"You're afraid you'll what?"
"I'm afraid I'll lose myself again, like the last time. I fell completely apart when you—Oh, I know you didn't betray me. I believe that. I do. But I thought you had and it... it broke something inside me. I didn't know who I was and I didn't care. Not about myself. Not about anything. I hate to admit this now, but I wanted to die, back then."
"Ariel, sweetheart. I—"
"I know it's horrible. But it's the truth. It wasn't until the first time Cameron moved inside me that I started to care again. Don't you see, Zeke? Back then, I had Cameron to give me strength and keep me going. But she has her own life now. I won't have her this time, not like I did before."
"You won't need Cameron this time," Zeke said. "You have me." He touched her cheek gently, reverently, willing her to believe. And to trust. "You have us."
Her gaze locked with his, full of hope and yearning and the desire to believe it would all work out all right this time. "Truly?"
"Truly," he vowed. "We're not those two kids who were too insecure and stupid and afraid to fight for each other and what they had. Those two kids didn't even know that what they had together was worth fighting for. We do." He cupped her face in his hands and stared deeply into her eyes. "Don't we, Ariel?" he pleaded.
She stared up into his eyes for a long moment, her gaze searching, hopeful, serious. "Yes," she said, knowing, finally, that it was true. What they had was worth anything. "Yes, we do."
He kissed her then—they kissed each other—a soft, sweet, solemn, thankful kiss that left both of them smiling.
"And we'll love each other forever," he murmured against her lips, needing to hear her say it.
"Forever," she agreed fervently.
"And we'll be there for each other."
"Always."
"And we'll trust each other."
"Implicitly," she said, without a flicker of doubt or hesitation.
"And we'll... What?" he asked, feeling her smile against his mouth.
"I'll trust you," she said teasingly, feeling secure enough to joke about it. "But I can't promise I won't snatch some poor woman bald-headed for looking at you crosswise."
With a joyous shout of laughter, Zeke scooped her up in his arms and laid her on the bed. "Your image will never be the same."
The End
Want more from Candace Schuler?
Page forward for an excerpt from
PASSION & SCANDAL
The Hollywood Nights Series
Book Three
Excerpt from
Passion & Scandal
The Hollywood Nights Series
Book Three
by
Candace Schuler
Bestselling, award-winning Author
PASSION & SCANDAL
Awards & Accolades
RITA Finalist
Romance Writers of America
REVIEWS
"A fast-paced tale of love, betrayal, and murder... and delicious romantic tension to keep us turning those pages!"
~Romantic Times
"A beautiful, heartwarming story with just enough mystery and other-worldly events to keep the story moving at a brisk pace."
~Rendezvous
Steve gave her a narrowed look. "Sooner or later," he warned her, "that mouth's gonna get you in a whole lot of trouble."
Willow pursed her shiny red lips at him in an exaggerated kissing motion. "Promises, promises," she taunted and turned to stroll toward the bar ahead of him, giving him a good look at the back of her snug black dress, which came to a V just below the curve of her waist.
"Good God Almighty, woman," Steve rasped hoarsely, and she knew she'd hit her mark. "I'll get even with you for this," he growled.
Willow laughed and kept on walking. "You're certainly welcome to try," she taunted.
He caught up with her and turned her around to face him. "You want to yank on my chain a little more, fine. But this is between you and me, sweetheart. Let's keep it that way."
He bent down and pressed a hard, possessive kiss on her astonished mouth, then whirled her around again and, hands firmly on her shoulders, headed her toward the bar.
"You can let go of me any time now," she said as they threaded their way through the crowd.
"Are you going to behave yourself?"
"Define behave," she retorted.
"Willow..." he said warningly and tightened his hands.
"All right, tough guy. I'll behave."
He let go of her.
"But only because I wouldn't want to be responsible for a bar brawl," she added.
He grinned at her. "God, you're a piece of work," he said admiringly.
Willow bent her head, refusing to let him see her smile, and dug into her evening bag. "Here," she said and handed him a tissue. "Wipe your mouth off. You've got lipstick all over it."
Passion & Scandal
The Hollywood Nights Series
Book Three
by
Candace Schuler
~
To purchase
Passion & Scandal
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Candace Schuler's eBook Discovery Author Page
www.ebookdiscovery.com/CandaceSchuler
~
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Page forward for an excerpt from
ONE NIGHT WITH YOU
The Heart of the City Series
Book One
Excerpt from
One Night With You
The Heart of the City Series
Book One
by
Candace Schuler
Bestselling, award-winning Author
ONE NIGHT WITH YOU
Reviews & Accolades
"Top read of the month... nicely executed.”
~Romantic Times
"Candace Schuler is a maestro at developing real characters."
~Affaire de Coeur
"I want you, Desiree."
"I want you too, Jake," she said clearly, and offered him her parted lips.
He kissed her, taking her offered mouth with a fevered eagerness that excited her already aroused emotions to an almost unbearable point. She strained against him, making a small sound of unmistakable need.
Jake cupped her buttocks, lifting her from the floor, and her slim legs locked themselves obligingly around his waist. He took three steps and then turned and fell backward onto the bed, taking her weight on top of his.
The short fall dislodged their lips and hands and Desi lay still for a few moments, panting lightly, her hot face hidden in the curve of his neck. She felt his hands in her hair, smoothing it through his fingers and down her back. Her tongue snaked out experimentally to taste him, and then her lips opened to feed greedily on that vulnerable place where his neck began to curve into his broad powerful shoulder.
Jake groaned and his hand stilled on her hair. He made a movement as if to roll over but Desi sat up abruptly, her wild hair foaming over her shoulders like a coppery cloud, and he lay still, waiting to see what she would do, staring up at her with hungry passion-glazed eyes.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
"About how beautiful you are," she said. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen." She smiled a siren's smile of pure provocation. "And for tonight—all night—you're mine." Her hand trailed over his mouth and chin and throat to the top button of his shirt, "And I want to see more." She had the first button undone. "Much more," she said teasingly.
Slowly, then, and in a tense, tingling silence, she finished unbuttoning his shirt, running her fingers lightly over his broad furred chest as she went, and tugged it free from the waistband of his slacks. Her slim fingers hovered uncertainly over the buckle of his belt.
She could see the smooth muscles of his stomach tense in anticipation, waiting for her next move and, perversely, instead of doing what he expected her to, her hands went to the buckle of her own belt. She unbuckled it, tossing it carelessly to the floor and, in one swift movement she grasped the hem of her tunic in both hands and pulled it off over her head.
The peach-colored, lace-trimmed camisole she wore beneath her tunic, with tiny bows at the shoulders and between her breasts, was an intriguing contrast to the almost boyish appearance of her outer clothes. Her hands went to the first bow between her breasts and pulled it loose. The look in Jake's eyes began to burn hotter. Not melting, now, or even smoldering, but a raging inferno of desire as he lay there, very still, watching her undress for him.
The look in his eyes scorched her, making her clever fingers suddenly clumsy with nervousness and trembling excitement. The second bow snarled, refusing to come undone. "You do it," she invited him, leaning forward so he could more easily see the tiny bows. One hand held her hair back out of the way and the other touched the middle of his broad chest lightly, balancing herself as she leaned over him.
It took several seconds—an eternity—to untangle the second bow, and she realized that his chest was heaving under her hand, as if he had run a long way, his heart thudding against her palm. A faint sheen of perspiration glistened across his powerful shoulders as he worked impatiently at the bow. Suddenly it came free under his fingers. Then there was only the third and last bow on the front of her camisole and the tiny ties on either shoulder. The silky garment slid slowly down her body, revealing to his avid, hungry gaze the creamy perfection of her pale breasts with their small reddish-brown nipples puckered and straining for his touch.
Jake levered his torso up from the pillows, fastening his mouth greedily to one hardened nipple, and twisted his body so that Desi was turned onto her back beneath him. He seemed frantic, suddenly, to have her completely bare. As his lips and teeth tenderly ravaged her breasts, his hands were busy peeling her, and himself, out of the rest of their clothes.
Desi helped him as best she could, kicking off her sneakers, lifting her hips as he tugged her slacks and then her bikini panties off her hips and down the long slender length of her legs. She reached for him as she lay back, grasping his forearm to bring him down on top of her. He parted her thighs with his knees, settling his hips between her legs, and thrust into her. Desi received him into her as impatiently and eagerly and as passionately as he took her. There was no holding back for her with him. No coyness, no shyness, just an aching hunger. Her thoughts, her desire, her very being were all focused completely on him at that moment—and for all the moments for the rest of that long, lovely, magical night. One night of heart-stopping, head-spinning passion with the man who had invaded her deepest dreams ever since the first time she had seen him, nearly six years ago.
> And it was enough, she told herself sternly, determined not to cry when she woke up the next morning with only the scent of him still lingering on the empty pillow next to her to reassure her that she had not merely dreamed it all.
One Night With You
The Heart of the City Series
Book One
by
Candace Schuler
~
To purchase
One Night With You
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Candace Schuler's eBook Discovery Author Page
www.ebookdiscovery.com/CandaceSchuler
~
Discover more with
eBookDiscovery.com
Candace Schuler is a writer with a multiple personalities. In her 20+ year career, she has written software user guides, various types of instruction manuals, marketing collateral, grant proposals, case statements, case studies, business profiles, newsletters, press releases, white papers, speeches, scripts, short stories, a cookbook—and 26 (to date) romance novels.
Candace credits her husband Joe and her love of travel with starting her career as a romance writer. It was his comments on a letter describing a trip to New Orleans that prompted her to try writing romance fiction.
She wrote her first novel Desire's Child by hand on 12 yellow legal pads. It was published by Harlequin Books in September, 1984 (after she typed it into a computer, of course). Her second book A Cherished Account was published by New American Library under the pen name Jeanette Darwin just one month later. She is also published under the name Candace Spencer.
Her books have appeared on the B. Dalton's and Waldenbooks bestseller lists and have twice been nominated by the Romance Writers of America for a RITA award in the Best Short Contemporary Romance category—in 1996 for Passion and Scandal and in 2003 for Good Time Girl. Good Time Girl also received the 2003 Scarlett Letter Award, presented by the Tampa Bay Romance Writers for excellence in sensual romance writing. Candace's books have also received three Reviewers' Choice Awards from Romantic Times magazine. In 1992, she was awarded the Career Achievement Award as Series Story Teller of the Year by RT.
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