I squeezed my eyes shut as blinding light filled the room.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
I squinted in the sudden brightness and looked up into the face of a stranger. His long hair was gray, thinning on top and pulled back into a ponytail. Black stubble tinged with gray covered his jaw, and his face was lined, leathery looking as if he had spent a long time out in the sun. It was his eyes that caught and held me, though. A pale, icy blue, they darted wildly from one place to another and when they returned to me, there was a look of wildness, craziness there.
“Drugs. Are you on drugs?” I asked, my voice shaking.
Maybe if I kept him talking.
He laughed again. “Lots of drugs.”
“Do you want money? Look, I’ll give you whatever…”
“Not money,” he grunted, sliding his hand down my cheek to my neck. “Something else I want.”
God, he was going to rape me! Had he seen me with Brent? Had he watched us and planned this? My mind began racing again. Then another thought hit me and I was thankful that my daughters were gone.
“Just don’t hurt me,” I begged, hating the weak, pleading sound in my voice.
“Not gonna hurt you,” he said and suddenly released me and crawled off the bed. “Not yet anyways.”
Heart pounding in my chest, I scooted off the bed or tried to. My feet were tangled in the sheets and I ended up tumbling to the floor, frantically fighting with them, nothing but escape in mind. Then I saw the pistol pointed straight at me and I froze. It was the biggest, blackest thing I’d ever seen in my life.
“You can give me what I want. Call the police,” he ordered and leaned slightly against the foot of the bed.
When I didn’t obey, he motioned toward my cell phone with that big gun. That yawning hold in the end returned to me immediately. I remembered my daughters saying they had seen someone with a limp and then I realized what he had just said. “Call the police?”
He nodded. “That big, strong sexy lover of yours is on duty tonight. He’ll be the first one out here when he knows you’re calling. That’s what I want.”
“You want Brent?” I was still confused.
Again he nodded, coughed hard and pointed at his left leg. Even under his worn, ragged jeans, I could tell it was shriveled and pretty much useless, and it appeared he wasn’t putting much weight on his foot. “He did this to me. And then he put me in a prison cell for a lot of years. Now, he’s gonna pay for that.”
“You mean while you were in the military?” I asked, my brain still trying to figure a way out of this. Perhaps I could knock his bad leg out from under him and get the upper hand. Then I remembered the strength in his hands as he held me trapped on the bed.
He nodded and coughed hard. “Call them.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“You will or I’ll blow your pretty little head off. I got nothin’ to lose and it would be a good way to get back at him, losing his woman and all.”
“No,” I repeated. There was no way I was calling Brent into a trap.
“Okay, have it your way,” he said and straightened his arm. “Those pretty daughters of yours will be pretty tore up, too, I guess.”
I closed my eyes and whispered a little prayer. If I had to die then so be it but I was not going to risk….
“Drop it!” Brent’s voice shot through the room, powerful, commanding our attention immediately.
I opened my eyes.
Brent was standing in the bedroom doorway holding a gun as well, looking larger, colder and more dangerous than I’d ever seen him. “It’s me you want. Let her go.”
There was that nasty, cold, wet laugh. “Couldn’t stay away, could you, boy? Maybe you’d like to watch me with your woman.”
A muscle twitched in Brent’s jaw, cold rage filled his eyes. “Touch her and I’ll kill you.”
“That’s what you said right before you shot me in that little hut in Iraq,” he snarled and motioned toward the withered leg. “Didn’t kill me, though.”
“This time I will,” Brent promised. “Before I wanted you to stand trial for all of your actions as an American soldier in Iraq. This time, I don’t care.”
The tension in the room was palpable as I huddled there on the floor between the two men, guns drawn.
Moving with surprising speed, the stranger grabbed my wrist, jerked me to my feet and pulled me back against him. He held me there with an iron grip. The cold steel of that gun was pressed against my temple.
“Whatcha gonna do now, big man?”
“Leave her out of this,” Brent said, his voice never wavering. And then to my disbelief, he tossed his gun onto the bed. “Let her go. Take me. I’m the one you want.”
“Stupid bastard,” the stranger grunted, his hot breath right against my ear “I’ll take you both out.”
In that split second, I realized he was caught off guard by Brent’s actions. This wasn’t in the script. Without thinking, I did something I’d never done before. I sank my teeth into the man’s hairy wrist as hard as I could. He screamed and hit me with the gun. I was aware of the crunching sound and then red hot pain shot through my head, blinding me momentarily. Still, I held on tight. And then I stomped his foot, the one at the end of his injured leg, praying that it was as weak as the leg appeared to be.
The sound of gunfire roared through the room. Now I was blind and deaf! At the same moment, someone screamed and a coppery-burnt smell filled my head. And then something hit me in the head again and everything went black.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next thing I was aware of was that I was lying down. I was aware of red and blue lights flashing against my eyelids. They seemed to fill the room with a strobe-like effect. Radios crackled. I heard voices. I opened one eye just a slit, terrified at what I would see.
What I saw was Brent sitting at the foot of my bed, shirtless with a bandage around his upper arm.
“Brent,” I whispered. My lip hurt and my head was pounding.
“Hey, baby,” he whispered back.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice sounded raspy and my throat hurt.
He nodded. “Just nicked me. And you’re gonna be okay too.”
“You threw your gun away,” I said, still trying to understand.
He chuckled. “I’ve been a police officer for a lot of years. I always have a backup plan.”
“Where is…?” I asked.
Brent shook his head. “You won’t have to worry about him again.”
This time the tears that spilled down my cheeks were tears of relief. The intruder was gone. Brent was okay and, God, I hurt all over but I was going to be okay, too.
“Hey, there,” another male voice broke into my thoughts. “I’m Marty. I’m with the EMTs. I want to check you out real quick and then we’ll be out of here.”
I nodded and winced once or twice while he examined my head and redid some bandages. He checked to make sure my eyes were focusing properly and asked me a few questions, all of which I thankfully knew the answer.
“You’re gonna be sore for a few days and I’d like for you to make an appointment to get checked out by your doctor,” he told me.
Then he looked at Brent. “She’s a fighter.”
Brent came back to my bed and assured me, yet again, that we were both going to be just fine. A police officer came into the room, smiled at me and then asked Brent if he could talk to him privately for a moment.
“Of course,” Brent said and stood up.
“Don’t leave me,” I whispered, knowing it was a silly thing to say but not being able to stop myself. “I have to tell you something.” It was now or never. I had to get the words out. I had to tell him.
He sat back down again and brushed my cheek with the back of his hand.
“Lilly and Ivy. I think you’re their father,” I said, watching his face closely for his reaction and then I rushed to explain. “Right after I married Michael I found out I was pregnant. We told everyone they ca
me a month early but…”
Brent bit his lower lip and his shoulders shook and finally he burst out laughing.
I don’t know what I was expecting but this certainly wasn’t it. “It’s not funny, Brent. All these years I’ve been keeping this secret, trying to protect them and Michael and…”
He laughed even harder.
“Brent, stop it,” I snapped, started to sit up. The room spun around me and I lay back down. “Stop laughing.”
“Billie,” he said struggling to control his laughter. “My sweet Billie. I can’t make babies,” he said.
“What?” I could not believe what I’d just heard.
“According to the doctors, I’ve been sterile my whole life. I’ll never have any children. That’s one reason why my marriage broke up. She wanted a family. I couldn’t give her one.”
“Sheriff.” The officer in the doorway reminded Brent he needed to talk to him.
“I’ll be right back,” he reassured me as he stood up.
“And you’ll stay the rest of the night,” I asked, still unable to stop myself from sounding so helpless. A thousand emotions were flooding me, relief and then the shock of his revelation hitting me all at once.
Brent sat back down and smoothed my hair back from face. “I’ll stay with you tonight and every night from now on. The other night I said, forever, remember?”
“Yes.”
“I meant it.”
“Forever,” I said and smiled, trying not to let him know just how badly my lip hurt. And the tears came again, happy ones this time. Then a thought popped into my head. “Lilly and Ivy…”
“They’re just going to have to get used to their mother having a different last name,” he said. “My last name…finally.”
Goldie and the Three Bachelors
"Goldie, are you ready?"
Goldie took a deep breath to steady her nerves and then let it out slowly. She was about to enter a room with 12 very eligible bachelors. Her task, which she must complete in two hours, was to meet each one, get to know a little about them and narrow that crowd down to three Prince Charming contestants. She would then get to spend 24 hours with each of the three that she chose and hopefully find a man who could give her the kind of magic she craved in a relationship.
"Dumb idea," she whispered to herself, tempted to just turn and run.
But she'd tried dating services.
She'd been on blind dates set up by well-meaning friends and family.
She had come home crying more than once after being disappointed yet again. On those nights, she curled up with her favorite pillow and wondered if she would ever get to be happy and in love.
She felt like Cinderella trying on one glass slipper after another. Nothing seemed to fit. They were too gentle or too rough, too slow or too fast.
Maybe this one last time…
If not, she would just give up.
Finally, she nodded to Chet, the producer of the reality dating show Looking for Prince Charming. Someone opened a door for her and she stepped into what looked like a large conference room. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a tiny gasp.
The big paneled room, complete with lush red carpet, was filled with soft music, soft lighting - and men…more men than Goldie had ever seen in one place before.
And they were all waiting for her.
Goldie found herself standing on a little platform of sorts just a few steps above the crowd. The moment she stepped into the room, every conversation stopped and all eyes turned in her direction. Ice clinked somewhere in a glass and someone whistled soft and low.
As merchandising director for a chain of department stores, Goldie knew how to dress to show off her body. But at this moment, she had never looked better. She knew the outfit they had chosen for her accentuated her ample assets perfectly. Her high heels showed off her curvy legs to their best advantage. Her skirt was just short enough to give them a teasing glimpse of her firm thighs. She also knew her long blonde hair and make-up were perfect. Still, when she spoke, her voice trembled just a little and she hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.
"Gentlemen, I'm looking forward to meeting all of you," she said in greeting and gave them her brightest smile. Then she gulped in air, trying to stuff down her quaking nerves.
Someone on the show's staff took her hand and guided her down the three little steps leading into the crowd. Another man handed her a drink and she took it; the ice cold glass felt good against her sweaty palm.
Murmurs of conversation started up again. Every once in a while she saw a man with a camera, which reminded her only vaguely that this was going to be aired on an adult television channel. In fact, everything that happened after this night was going to be taped; live coverage of Goldie's next few days and nights. Goldie searching for the man of her dreams, her Prince Charming.
As men approached her, introduced themselves and chatted for a moment, Goldie began to relax. Several of them told her how pretty she looked and how they would like to get to know her better. Even better, Goldie had the same feeling about some of them as well. They were all handsome, well-dressed and, obviously, well-educated. Perhaps they, too, were looking for the same kind of magic in her. Thank goodness they were all wearing name tags. And, thank goodness, she would get to review the tapes later. There was no way she could remember who was who.
How was she ever going to choose?
She gave each man a chance to make her laugh, to interest her in some way, even to flirt a little. And they all did their best, some of them a bit too eager to impress her. She dismissed them right away, as well as the ones who seemed too possessive right off the bat. A skirmish broke out across the room, voices raised, tempers flaring, but Goldie knew this was scripted. She was not a good actress but she tried her best to look shocked and even a little afraid. One man put his arm around her protectively.
Drama.
Goldie had had enough drama. She wanted only magic and the love of a good man.
One man in particular caught Goldie's attention even though he remained on the fringes of the crowd. He seemed to be a little older than the rest and was dressed casually in khaki's and a polo shirt that molded to his broad shoulders and muscular chest. For whatever reason, Goldie found herself drawn to his rugged good looks, glancing often at his tanned, muscular arms and big, strong looking hands even as she chatted with other men. Finally, she could stand it no longer. From about ten feet away, she turned and faced him, her smile an invitation to speak to her.
He nodded, saluted her with his glass…and that was all.
His name tag said "Brock."
And Goldie suddenly wanted him very much.
But she had to choose three.
Much too soon, Chet motioned that time was up and that Goldie make her way back up the steps to her little platform. She turned and thanked the men, making sure they knew how much she had enjoyed meeting each of them. But before she left, she made eye contact with Brock one last time.
Again, he acknowledged her with merely a nod.
"I definitely want him," she said to Chet.
"Him who?"
"Brock," she told him.
"You can't," he explained. "He was just thrown in as a wild card. Something to create a little diversion. He didn't even want to be on the show. And we had to pay him a small fortune to…."
"I want him," Goldie repeated.
"He's a stunt man. He drives race cars and blows things up and…"
"I want him."
"You have to choose three," Chet reminded her, a frantic, nervous edge to his voice.
"Oh, I will but he's going to be one of them," she said with a little smile.
"And you have to give each of them a fair chance," he added.
"I already know the names of other two," Goldie said, surprising herself with that statement.
"You sure you don't want to review the tape, get a second look?" Chet asked.
Goldie shook her head. Two other men had impressed her enough tha
t she would not forget them soon.
***
"Goldie, this is Neil,"
Standing in her hotel room suite, Goldie clutched the towel around her and smiled at the warmth in Neil's voice. It had been only two days since they'd met and she remembered this charming man right away. His classic good looks were only emphasized by his crooked, little boy grin that made her heart flutter.
"Hello," she purred into the receiver.
"Think we can get together this afternoon? I'd like to take you shopping for something to help you remember me," he said.
"That would be wonderful," Goldie told him. She had not known presents would be involved but she wasn't going to turn them down.
"And then I'm going to take you to dinner at a romantic little café," he explained. "It's one of my favorites."
They made plans to meet and Goldie spent the next few hours with the staff of the show, choosing her clothing and getting her make-up and hair done. So much for reality, she thought as they helped her change into a designer outfit that cost more than a week of her salary at the department store.
"Once you two get together, you're on your own," Chet reminded her. "The cameras will be rolling all evening."
"Nothing is scripted?" Goldie asked just to make sure.
"Nothing."
"So wherever he takes me, whatever we buy or do is all reality."
"Yes. And we're recording every minute," he told her.
"I understand." She did, but it still made her nervous.
Goldie spotted Neil waiting patiently in the lobby of the hotel before he saw her. She took a moment to note that he looked much different in casual dress than he did when they had first met. She decided she liked the look and moved toward him.
He stood up, smiled and reached for her as she approached. Giving her a warm hug, he whispered. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," she said, feeling the same ease she had felt when they first met. "You're not so bad yourself."
"Your chariot awaits, my queen," he teased as he led her outside to his red sports car, parked near the curb.
Star-Crossed Curves: BBW Erotic Romance Boxed Set Page 28