Curves For Him: 10 Delicious Tales

Home > Romance > Curves For Him: 10 Delicious Tales > Page 75
Curves For Him: 10 Delicious Tales Page 75

by Aubrey Rose

Claire swiped at a tear that escaped down her cheek. She didn’t want to cry again. “If it makes you happy, I’ll definitely wear it again. I could even put it on right now if you’d like.”

  “Honestly? I think you have too many clothes on already. C’mon, I want to show you something.”

  She followed him into the newly-remodeled master bathroom and gasped in delight. At the end of the bathroom under the window was the two-person jetted tub they had sat in at the showroom. “I thought you decided on a small tub and a large shower,” she said.

  Robbie shrugged. “My fiancé wanted a bigger tub. Care to join me for a swim?” He didn’t wait for her answer before plugging the drain and turning on the water.

  While his back was turned, Claire shimmied out of her clothes. She laughed at the look on his face when he saw that she was already naked. “I’m one step ahead of you, Mr. Halliday,” she said.

  He grinned as he dropped his clothes next to hers, never taking his eyes off her curves. “You usually are, Miss Branson,” he responded. He pulled her soft body against his hard frame and kissed her deeply. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  About the Author: Harper Ashe

  Subscribe to my newsletter and be among the first to know about new releases, promotions and contests: http://eepurl.com/MT5ir

  Harper Ashe writes the kind of romance she loves to read: sweet, sassy and deliciously satisfying. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her handsome husband, almost-grown children and a very naughty cat.

  If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

  Sweet For You: A BBW Billionaire Romance

  Can true love - and a sweet tooth - conquer all?

  Abby Branson has a plus-size crush on handsome billionaire Stephen Blake, CEO of a gourmet foods empire. But when she's hired by Blake Foods as a taste tester for a new line of diet desserts, she's devastated to discover that the real Mr. Blake isn't anything like the fantasy man in her dreams. Until one passionate kiss reveals there's more to the brooding billionaire than meets the eye.

  With profits slipping, the future of Stephen Blake's gourmet foods company is riding on the successful launch of his diet desserts line. Adding cute and curvy Abby Branson to the project team makes sense. After all, she smart, feisty, and fits the customer demographic to a T. Although love is the last thing on Stephen's mind, he can't help but notice that Abby is more delicious than anything his company creates.

  Sparks soon fly between the billionaire and the BBW. But with her insecurities and his wounded heart, coming up with the right recipe for romance won't be a piece of cake. Will Stephen and Abby succeed in the diet desserts business - and find true love in the process?

  Sweet for You is a feel-good romance with a HEA ending. This sweet, romantic novella is one guilty pleasure that won't pack on the pounds - even if you read it more than once.

  Their Obsession by Eliza Gayle

  Chapter One

  “Can you feel it? I’ll soon be free. My time is coming, and all hope will be lost.”

  Marc jerked awake, his body coiled tight and covered in sweat. His gaze swept left and right as he crept from the bed, searching for the source of distress.

  A sudden gust of mist and wind tore through the room, shattering the calm. Glass and ceramics crashed to the ground in a flurry of noise and dangerous debris.

  “What the hell?” Aidan jumped from the bed, muscles taut in defense, searching for the source of the disturbance.

  “Relax. It’ll be over in a second.” The thick and suffocating air pushed desperately at Marc’s skin as he fought to stay upright. A quick glance at Aidan showed a healthy dose of anger mixed with fear on his lover’s face. “Do. Not. Fear. This,” he yelled over the swirling vortex. “Fight it.”

  He pushed against the dark power filling the room. It pushed back. Son of a bitch. His muscles strained, and the blood pounded in his head as the unseen evil slammed them into the wall, pinning them in place. Sweat poured from Marc’s body as he fought to continue breathing and expel the demonic spirit. He should have seen this coming.

  With every physical and mental aspect of his being strained to the breaking point, he pushed and struggled harder. Invisible fingers wrapped around his throat, cutting him off from the life-giving force he needed to stay alive. Despite Aidan’s and his considerable combined strength, the darkness wrapped them from head to toe in a shadowy shroud. He dared not break his concentration to check on Aidan and, instead, racked his oxygen-deprived brain for another solution.

  Frigid air moved in, and the temperature of the room fell by at least fifty degrees. But that cold touch made him remember what it was he sought. A faint heat source in the room now beckoned him like a lifeline. His arms dove through the swirling blanket of obsession, greed, and jealousy surrounding them as he groped for the crystal amulet he knew had to be mere inches from his grasp.

  His body twitched and flailed against his movements, and a sliver of fear tried to break through his resolve. A century ago when he’d faced these very fears, his inexperience had gotten the best of him. Not this fucking time.

  His right hand wrapped around the heated crystal, which warmed his hand with its magic. Shards of light and color burst through his skin, heating him from the inside out. Hope and joy fragmented the rage, forcing the hateful and unbalanced emotions from the room in a fiery display of dominance. His body collapsed onto the floor in a heap of exhaustion and sweat alongside Aidan.

  Marc blew out a hard breath and looked at the damaged room. The balance of power was shifting more quickly than he’d expected, and they’d just been warned.

  “What was that?”

  “That, my good man, was the welcome wagon.” Marc stood on shaky legs and placed the crystal amulet around his neck for safekeeping. Odds were they’d be revisiting their fears in the coming days. “It appears our witch has arrived.”

  * * * * *

  Jayde rushed down the sidewalk, sweat trickling down her back as she hurried toward the glass doors of the bank. She gripped her bag tighter, willing her hands to quit shaking. What could possibly be in that damn safety-deposit box to warrant the increased fear racing through her the closer she got to it? It had to be the heat, the hot, sticky air she dragged in and out of her lungs. Much longer, and she would certainly melt.

  She’d grown accustomed to the mild climate of San Francisco and had forgotten that during the summer in South Carolina, you never knew what to expect. Rain one day, heat the next, but always the miserable humidity. Instead of the jacket and skirt she wore, she longed for a thin sundress and sandals. Not to mention a tall, cold drink. The kind with an umbrella and some fruit on the side. Something with enough liquor in it to make her forget why she was here.

  Her stomach knotted in grief at the memory of the polite phone call she’d received a few days ago. She’d woken to the shrill ring of her cell phone at an ungodly hour of the morning and had been ready to curse the person calling. Those words were forgotten when the caller informed her that her beloved grandmother had died the night before, and that she was needed in Hickory Falls as soon as possible.

  It had been several years, more than five in fact, since she’d come here to visit, and she had no idea what would await her on Main Street. Jayde always had an excuse whenever her gran would ask her to come see her. Looking back now, every one of them sounded even lamer than the one before. Pangs of regret sliced through her as she considered all the time she had wasted. And for what? A dead-end job with an ex-fiancé as a boss?

  The only information she had managed to pry out of the attorney was that renovations on her grandmother’s house had recently been completed, and there were currently a pair of tenants living in the guest apartment on the third floor, next to her grandmother’s residence, which she guessed was now hers. She’d looked over the photographs the attorney had given her, and she had to admit she was quite impressed with her grandmother’s vision; the place looked fantastic and not at all like the run-down house she remembe
red. But nobody had been able or willing to give her a straight answer about the financial status or future plans for the historic home. She would have to dig through her grandmother’s things and find all her financial records herself.

  Her gaze swept across each business lining the sidewalk until she spied the familiar stone arch of the old town bank. Anxious to get inside, she pushed through the revolving door, and a blast of cool air brushed her face. Goose bumps prickled across her heated skin, and she wondered if she could just stand there awhile to recover. On a slow sigh of regret, she moved on and searched out the information desk to find a petite, dark-haired woman eyeing her curiously with a smile on her face. She headed in that direction.

  “How can I help you today, ma’am?” The thick Southern accent rolled from her tongue.

  “I need to access my safe-deposit box.” Jayde showed the woman the gold key she’d been gripping in her hand.

  “No problem. Bob can take care of that for you.” She waved to a tall balding man across the room. Jayde watched him approach. For a few seconds she could have sworn his strictly starched appearance and pasty skin appeared to give way to something dark and sinister. A sudden stab of fear paralyzed Jayde, leaving her breathless and confused. Then it disappeared and she stood facing the smiling, albeit not very attractive, Bob.

  What the hell? She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Still boring businessman Bob staring down at her with a wide smile. Had to be the heat getting to her. Jayde shrugged the strange feeling off ad refocused her attention to the matter at hand. Getting into the safe deposit box.

  After he verified her ID and declared her the official owner of her grandmother’s box, Bob led her through a series of lifeless corridors in the back of the building. Funny, the farther she followed him, the more her anxiety ratcheted up. Perspiration broke out on her forehead, even with the air conditioned chill in the room, and her hands shook harder than before. Silly, really. What could her grandmother have left her that would give her any reason to be nervous? Or for that matter, what could she have left that required the security of a safe-deposit box?

  That was the real question that had burned through Jayde since she’d been told about the box’s existence. She’d never thought of her gran as the secretive type, but there was no telling what she’d been up to before she died.

  “Your box is right in here, ma’am. I’ll just leave you alone, if there is nothing else you need.” While he spoke, his eyes darted down to her ample breasts, lingering far too long.

  What a perv!

  She turned away from him in disgust and surveyed the room, a tiny, smaller-than-her-walk-in-closet area that was lined with lockboxes. “This is fine. Thank you.”

  She gritted her teeth and stepped inside. A stronger sense of foreboding surrounded her like a thick and powerful cloak. Her skin prickled, and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to turn and run.

  What the hell?

  She searched through the numbers until she located the right slot. Maybe she should leave. Her grandmother’s will had left her with a cryptic message about her life being about to change forever. It had said there would be no turning back, all fate was hers. At the time, she’d assumed they were the wild ramblings of an aging mind.

  Now she wasn’t so sure.

  Slowly she released the breath she’d been holding, one fraction at a time, searching for an internal calm that seemed to elude her. With trembling hands, she pulled the container from the shelf marked with her number and carried it to the table.

  She slid the key into the lockbox and turned it.

  Jayde lifted the lid to find another box, an old, ornate wooden one to be exact with a small white envelope on top. How old, she had no idea, but from the brown, aged wood and odd markings, she could only guess it was really old—as in centuries old. Her fingers brushed the edges, and her skin tingled from her arms to the back of her neck. When she lifted it from the safe, her throat tightened, making her breathing seem labored. As she eyed the box, she couldn’t help but think how silly she was behaving. It’s just a box for cripes sake.

  She grabbed the envelope first, slowly opening it and withdrawing a small piece of paper with a handwritten note. Her throat constricted. It was her grandmother’s writing.

  My dearest Jayde,

  I’m sorry to do this to you like this. I always thought there’d be more time and you’d eventually find your way back home so I could explain. As you’re about to learn the hard way, our family is not normal. For centuries we’ve held the weight of responsibility for the world in our hands. Or at least one fourth of it. For reasons I can’t get into in a note, you my dear are the next in line to protect the human race from themselves. Human emotions hold more power than most people realize and often times it is up to us to ensure there is a balance between good and evil by protecting others from unseen dangers. As a witch you are about to learn the combined power of a triad and its role in the universe. When your two guardians reveal themselves to you, it is imperative that you believe.

  Jayde stopped reading and refolded the note. Tears dripped to her cheeks. She’d had no idea that her beloved grandmother had deteriorated mentally after she left. But the proof sat in her hand in black and white. She tucked the note into her purse and made a mental note to find out more about her gran’s illness.

  She turned her attention to the smaller box, curious more than ever what it contained. Her fingers slid along the seam, trying to find the spot that would open it. Finally it dawned on her that the series of levers created a pattern, and she would have to follow it to get inside. One by one, she moved the pieces of the puzzle until only one remained.

  She held her breath, pressed the last lock, and flipped open the box. Sucking in a deep breath, she stared down at the intriguing antique gold necklace nestled in the corner. The filigreed gold of the chain had aged to a shimmery bronze color, and the intricate beading work around the edges of the rough-cut links gave it a delicate yet sturdy look.

  In the center of the delicate arcs of the pendant sat a pearlescent oval moonstone, sparkling in the artificial light of the room. The stone was large and flat, so that when she ran her thumb across it, she found it to be smooth as glass. But where she expected a cool, solid surface, she found heat and life. Jayde pulled it from the box and held it up in front of her. The stone seemed to change color as it moved in the light. She guessed the necklace to be the perfect length to nestle between the breasts, atop the beating heart of its owner.

  The weight and texture of it seemed perfect, not too heavy nor too light. She wanted nothing more than to put it on and wear it. Feel it against her skin. Why had her grandmother hidden such a gorgeous piece of jewelry away in a bank? More importantly, why had she never seen her grandmother wear it? It was far too beautiful a necklace to never be appreciated and kept hidden. Unable to resist, she unhooked the clasp and slid the chain under her hair.

  With the necklace fastened, she let the chain fall, and the dangling moonstone did exactly as she’d thought. It slid between her breasts to nestle in the cleavage there. The contrast of the cool temperature of the chain and the heat of the stone felt delicious against her flushed skin. A sudden crackle of energy swept the length of her body, causing her to shiver. Heat continued to build inside her, until her sex tingled with arousal and surprising need.

  Jayde’s fingers followed the sensation as she skimmed her hands up the seam of her skirt, stopping at her hips. She looked around the room, hoping to find something she could use as a mirror; she wanted to see how it looked. No luck. She would have to wait until she got to the house before she could admire the beautiful necklace around her neck. Not to mention figure out why she throbbed between her legs.

  Unable to resist, Jayde slid her hand down and cupped herself, applying pressure to her mound. Common sense told her to stop. That she was in a public place. Yet her hand rubbed harder as carnal, wicked thoughts filled her head. Maybe she coul
d just go with it for a few minutes.

  “Is there anything you need in there?”

  Her hand jerked at the bank manager’s voice outside the door. Heat flooded her face as she smoothed her skirt and fought back a desire she didn’t understand.

  “No...no, I have what I need.” Not really, but this was not the time and place to figure that out.

  Opting to keep the necklace on, she picked up the box and tucked it under her arm. No need to keep this locked up here, not when she fully intended to wear the beautiful stone.

  A piece of paper fluttered to the ground as she lifted the wooden box. Unfolding the worn and wrinkled paper, she found one sentence scrawled inside.

  Beware the obsession.

  Chapter Two

  Without needing the walking map the attorney had given her, Jayde located her gran’s bakery from memory. It occupied the first floor of an historic, three-story home on Main Street. The other two floors had been converted to small guest apartments that were rented out. Her grandmother’s attorney had informed her that the establishment would now be her responsibility, as well as the two tenants living in one of the apartments above. Nausea rolled in her stomach when she thought about that. She wasn’t sure she could run a place like this on her own, but she could well imagine the shock and disappointment on her grandmother’s face if she didn’t at least try.

  The brick building reminded her a little of an old brownstone, except for the large plate-glass window encompassing the entire front of the building. There were decorated shelves with empty serving platters along the window ledge, with a large pink sign above them stating the shop was temporarily closed.

  Might be more than temporary, she mused.

  A baker she was not. Sure, she’d followed a few recipes in her life but with mixed results. She’d decided long ago that cooking was not her forte. She dug through the envelope stuffed in her bag and pulled out the key to the front door. A doorbell chimed, announcing her arrival as she stepped into the cool entry of the store. To the left was a large open archway leading into the main store area, and to the right, a door that would lead to the apartments upstairs, she presumed.

 

‹ Prev