Star-Crossed Curves: BBW Erotic Romance Boxed Set

by Carolina Moon

  While they sizzled on the electric griddle, she glanced over at the binder, wondering why it had been stuffed in that particular drawer, anyway. She bet that he'd forgotten where he put it, and decided to return it to his office for him. After flipping the pancakes, she pulled it off the counter, intending to do just that.

  She gasped when it slipped from her fingers fell to the floor. Crap. Sheets of paper tumbled out of it, floating to the tiles. She hurried to gather them up, trying not to read them, but then one particular sheet stopped her cold.

  It was a photocopy of a newspaper article, with the word "MURDER" written across the top in bold black. Underneath was a picture of Mason, getting into a police car. She had no doubt it was him, but checked twice, just to be sure. Farther down, under that, was a picture of a woman who was obviously dead.

  It was him. Ice slivered through her veins as she quickly turned off the heat under the pancakes and slid to the floor. Holding the paper in her trembling fingers, she read it through, and then again, because the words just didn't make any sense.

  According to this, Mason had killed a hooker in an alley in Philadelphia. The article didn't go into specifics, except to say that he was caught red-handed, and one legal advisor was quoted as saying that 'there was no question of his guilt'. A strangled sound, like that of a wounded animal, escaped Crista's throat.

  He had been sentenced to ten years in prison.

  ***

  Suddenly freezing, and barely aware of the tears running down her face, she reached for the rest of the book. It was full of articles concerning this crime, and finally she found one that told her the hooker had been strangled, and was dead on arrival at the hospital. When they'd found her, Mason had been kneeling down beside her on the concrete, just in the act of closing her eyes.

  No. She didn't want to believe it, didn't want to even think such thoughts about the man who had loved her so beautifully just a few hours ago. Pain sliced through her, so sharp that she gasped with the force of it and began to sob quietly.

  There was more, but she couldn't read anymore. She stuffed the papers back into the binder. The last one she picked up was an announcement about his release from prison. Two years ago.

  Suddenly, his words from last night filtered through her thoughts. "Let me have you, Crista."

  She had to leave, had to leave right now. Hurrying as quietly as she could, she gathered up her things and changed, praying hard that she would be gone before he awoke. She found her shoes and slipped them on. They were still cold from the night before, but that didn't matter.

  Where was she going? She couldn't go back to her cabin - he would show up there the minute he realized that she was gone. Town! She would have to get to town, get to Maddie, so that she could hide.

  She almost screamed when she heard a thump from the back of the house, but then, when she heard nothing else, decided that it must be the wind. The blizzard was howling again, and even though she hated the thought of going out into the dark storm, she knew that it would cover the sounds of her escape.

  Finally she was ready, and she opened the door that had seemed so cozy and comforting the night before. A blast almost ripped it from her hand, and she was instantly frozen to the bone, but she held onto it and closed it as quietly as she could. Wrapping her arms around her, she stepped off the porch into the stinging snow.

  It pushed her to her knees, or at least it would have if the blanket of snow weren't as high as her thighs now. Her jeans and hoodie were already soaked, just from thirty seconds of exposure. She would have to work extra hard. At least that would keep her from freezing to death. She hoped.

  Her cheeks hurt, and she realized that tears were freezing there, even as they fell from her eyes. She couldn't help it, though. This was such a far cry from anything she might have imagined last night, and her heart ached in her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  She pushed on, though, making her way toward the lake. Her legs burned, and by the time she reached the cover of trees that peppered the shoreline, she couldn't feel her feet anymore, either. It didn't matter. When she got to the edge, she knew that all she had to do was walk around the lake until she found the boat ramp. The 'tourist' road led there, and she could follow it back to town.

  She hoped.

  ***

  When she was finally hidden among the trees, she heard a faint noise behind her. Turning slightly, she saw that Mason's cabin door was wide open, and he was a silhouetted there, framed against the bright lights from inside. She didn't hear the noise again, but he looked like he was calling for her. The wind was whisking his words out across the frozen lake.

  She turned away, and tried to move faster, praying that the light didn't extend far enough to highlight her pink hoodie or cap. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she swore that she would wear black from now on.

  The snow wasn't quite as deep here under the evergreens, but she still struggled with every step, and it seemed like it was taking forever to get out of sight of the cabin. Her entire body ached, but it was better than the numbness in her feet that caused her to stumble with almost every step.

  Just as she was about to make the turn onto the southern side of the lake, she heard another noise and looked back to see Mason jump off his porch. Even worse, he was carrying what looked to be a gun. A rifle of some sort. Why would he need that, unless he was going to kill her?

  She whimpered into the darkness and turned away, back toward town.

  There was no way she could go any faster, though, and by the time she passed her own cabin, the sky to her left was beginning to lighten a little. She thought about stopping there, just to rest, but she knew that Mason had to be close behind her - and he would check the cabin first thing. Once the sky lightened behind the heavy clouds, the only thing that would shield her from him was the heavy snowfall. She cursed the bright pink hoodie again, but was too terrified of freezing to death to take it off.

  She just kept going.

  Finally, she spotted the tall orange signs that marked the sides of the boat ramp. She was relieved, but too tired to be very happy about it. At least she wasn't lost. Now, though, she had to get to town.

  Just as she made her way onto what she guessed was the road, she heard him shout her name. It was clearer now, which meant that he must be getting closer. Risking a look back, she could barely see him as he emerged from the tree line. He was waving in her direction. She tried to run.

  That didn't even begin to work. She was wearing herself out, but moving no faster than she had been. He would catch her soon.

  Her mind was becoming fuzzier, too. She wasn't thinking of anything except fighting her way through the snow. One thought, though, did circle her brain. If he could see her, and it looked like maybe he could, why didn't he just shoot her? She was in agony now, and fading fast, and she almost thought that it would be a blessing if he did.

  She shook her head. Where had that thought come from? She knew that she was exhausted, and that her heart was thumping so hard that it hurt, but she still had to try. She still had to keep going.

  When she fell the first time, she scrambled out of the snow as quickly as she could and kept going. The second time, it was harder to even want to get up, but she pushed herself. The third time, as she fell, she caught a glimpse of new movement. It couldn't be Mason, because he was behind her and this was directly in front of her.

  When she struggled to her feet again, she looked harder. And blinked. Wolves? Two of them, scrawny and vicious looking, scampered across the top of the snow toward her, teeth bared. They couldn't be more than ten or fifteen feet away. In fact, if the crust of snow were any firmer they would have had her by now.

  She froze.

  "Get down!" she heard from behind her. "Fall, Crista!"

  Mason.

  The wolves. They were almost on her.

  Something inside of her snapped. Some sort of instinct kicked in. She didn't think, didn't decide, she just fell, curling into a ball there in the snow,
and felt it envelop her in immediately. Just before her eyes squeezed shut, the world went icy blue and she heard a high, piercing whistle.

  She heard a sharp sound, and then nothing.

  ***

  The next thing she knew, she was being pulled up out of her frozen pit, but she couldn't do anything to help. She couldn't even look. Her eyes felt frozen shut, and she was so very tired, but she knew it had to be Mason. Knew that she would die in a few moments, as soon as he finished tugging at her.

  "Crista," she heard him say. His voice was rough. "Crista, please...."

  She pretended not to hear. Instead, she let her mind go back to the night before. If she was about to die, she wanted to think about her wonderful night with him. No matter that he was about to kill her, she wanted the loving Mason, the one who had looked at her with a mixture of tenderness and hunger, the one who had made her shiver and fly with his very touch. That Mason could have loved her, she just knew it.

  This Mason didn't, couldn't. This Mason killed people, and she didn't want him to exist. She focused on the beautiful Mason. It wouldn't matter soon, anyway. She just couldn't figure out why he was trying to get her up, instead of just strangling her to death in the snow.

  He kept pulling and tugging, though, and soon she was sitting up in the snow. Her eyes were still closed tight, though. She would never open them again. She would think about her Mason until he did away with her.

  Both of his hands were on her biceps, and he shook her gently. "Crista! Crista, please look at me...please be OK."

  The hitch in his voice surprised her into opening his eyes. The first thing she saw was blood - everywhere. All over his face, his clothes, spread out into the snow in sharp red slashes. The second thing she saw was his face. Worried, with tears streaking through the blood to land on her pink hoodie.

  Dazed, she let him pull her to him. He held her close, cradling her head and back. She could feel his body shaking. "Thank God, thank God, thank God," he whispered, rocking her back and forth. "It's dead, baby. See?" He pulled away a little. "It's dead."

  She caught just a glimpse of a ragged red pile of fur before he crushed her to him again.

  She didn't speak for a long time. Her brain, swirling with confusion, couldn't make her mouth form words. When she could, she said, "You're going to kill me."

  "No. No, never. I would never harm you, Crista. I love you." He pulled away again and looked into her eyes. She could see the love there, glittering through his tears.

  "But..."

  "No. It was a bad mistake, and it took ten long years to fix it, but I never hurt her. I just found her."

  "You were convicted!" She felt helpless, lost, and so very tired. She just wanted to put her head back on his chest and sleep, but she didn't. She continued to meet his gaze.

  "I was also exonerated, but by then my time was almost up, anyway. My brother was on the police force. He worked that case, knew that I wouldn't kill anybody, and he spent all of his time and energy trying to get a judge to look at the evidence that came in too late for my trial."

  Now, he simply looked resigned. The sadness was back in his eyes, and she got the feeling that he had explained these things over and over. The question was...was he telling the truth, or was her stupid heart just overriding her common sense?

  "I'm not going to hurt you, Crista. But you'll have to trust me for now, until I can show you. We have to get inside so that I can clean out this gash. Coyotes carry a lot of germs."

  Her eyes flicked from his to the arm he gestured toward, and she realized that his sleeve was ripped down the length. Blood was soaking quickly into the cloth.

  She had seen the teeth, seen the rabid eyes of those animals. He could have been killed. She thought about that as she gently touched his wound. She remembered dropping into the snow, remembered the blue, and then her eyes widened as she remembered the sharp whistling. He had distracted them, called them, away from her. He had risked death to save her, before they could rip her to shreds.

  At that moment, she knew. She didn't need to see his pieces of paper, didn't need to hear any more explanation. The wall of misery that had been building inside of her since she'd found the binder burst, and she struggled to her feet, tears streaming down her face, then reached for him.

  "Come on. Let's go home."

  Rich Kisses for Christmas

  Chapter One

  Keeping an eye on the open doorway that led to the main living area, Rissa Malone poured herself another cup of punch. The mistletoe was there, just as in previous years. She’d made sure of that. A quick glance at her watch told her that it was almost time. She inched through the crowd in that direction.

  More than one of her former college classmates stopped to tell her how good she looked. She smiled. In college she’d hidden her full figure under sweat pants and baggy sweaters. Since her divorce, though, she’d blossomed into a beautiful, confident business woman who knew how to dress to show off her curves. Tonight, at the annual Christmas party held by one of her former classmates, she was showing those curves off and she had someone in her sights…just like she had last year.

  Two years ago was the first time he kissed her and it had been a complete surprise. Since she was catering the affair, she had been working as well as enjoying the party. Standing near this same open doorway, Rissa had watched her classmates enjoy themselves and then quickly checked to be sure that the punch bowl didn't need refilling. The party was still in full swing and showed no signs of slowing down.

  Someone had placed hands on her shoulders and whirled her around. Looking up into his handsome face, she recognized Evan Brogan immediately. Who wouldn’t? He was one of the wealthiest men in town, probably the most eligible bachelor -- and drop dead gorgeous. And she was sure he had no idea who she was or that they’d even gone to school together.

  Without a word, he had given her a big, boyish grin, pointed upward toward the mistletoe and then took her in his arms and kissed her until she was breathless. And then he was gone.

  Everyone laughed at his prank except Rissa. She had been too stunned to do anything but stand there looking at the spot where he’d been. Was she having hallucinations? No, everyone else saw it, too. And she could still taste his kiss on her lips. Then Rissa did what any woman in her right mind would do—she ran. She left the noisy, laughing guests behind, ran out into the street, found her car and drove away.

  Despite her embarrassment, she actually watched and waited for him at the party the next year. Again, she kept her vigil under the mistletoe and, again, he appeared out of nowhere, swept her off her feet and kissed her. His kiss left her as breathless and lightheaded as the year before. And, just like the previous time, he had disappeared leaving her frustrated and fuming and tingling from head to toe.

  This year she was more than ready to see him again. Only this year, she had a plan.

  “Rissa, should I circulate some more hors d'oeurves?” Kelli asked.

  “Yes,” Rissa answered, not even looking at the young woman who helped her run the catering business she’d managed for the past few years. She had her eye on that mistletoe and the door to the large room.

  “Rissa, we made a new batch of eggnog. Do you want to taste it?”

  “No,” Rissa snapped, finally turning toward Kelli, who looked a little puzzled. Rissa was known for her hands on approach to her business. She insisted on tasting every morsel of food to make sure it was exactly what the customer ordered. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she finally said with a smile to soften her abrupt response.

  When her gaze returned to the doorway, she saw him. The sight nearly took her breath away. Evan Brogan was a tall, broad shouldered man who dominated the room without even trying. Every eye turned in his direction; every woman sensed his presence and moved a bit closer. His animal magnetism was extraordinary and Rissa’s heart pounded in her chest when she realized he appeared to be looking for someone. Was he looking for her? It had been a year since he had kissed her and she was sure h
e still had no idea who she was.

  This year, she decided she would be the one to disappear first. But not before they shared a kiss.

  She stood quietly by the punch bowl, waiting for the crowd to settle down, waiting until he was engrossed in talking to their former classmates. She watched him shake hands with guys he’d played football with, his smile warm and genuine. And the ladies were fawning over him, vying for his attention. He had the ability to make each and every person with which he spoke feel as if they were the most important, most beautiful in the room. And the most attractive part about the whole thing was that he did it with ease, seemingly unaware of this powerful charisma.

  Rissa had done some research on Mr. Evan Brogan. He was a successful attorney in a city not too far away, but that was to be expected. The Brogan family was wealthy beyond imagination and well-known in their small town, owning several businesses and involved in local politics.

  When Rissa felt the time was right, she slowly moved toward the doorway where the mistletoe hung. She touched the silver locket she always wore. It was the last gift her father had given her before he died and it represented his strength and protective nature. It also calmed her nerves. She glanced at a sofa near the front door to make sure her coat was still draped across the arm. She would need to grab it when she made her escape out into the cold. But not before….

  Strong hands on her shoulders turned her around. How did he get behind her? With a gasp of surprise, she gazed up into Evan’s dark eyes, twinkling with mischief. He cocked one eyebrow, licked his full lips and then pulled her into his arms. His lips covered hers, warm and tender, teasing and hungry at the same time. She felt herself melting into that embrace, even whimpered softly as her arms instinctively looped around his big shoulders. The kiss was just like all the others, breathtaking, his exotic scent making her dizzy.