Star-Crossed Curves: BBW Erotic Romance Boxed Set

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Star-Crossed Curves: BBW Erotic Romance Boxed Set Page 46

by Carolina Moon


  “I can hardly wait, darling,” Tiffany said with a giggle.

  The sound of her voice jolted Rissa into action. On legs that felt like rubber, she moved out of the doorway and made some unnecessary adjustments to a nearby vignette. In just a few moments, Tiffany appeared, smoothing her hair with one hand and clutching her purse with the other.

  Rissa looked up and their eyes met. How she wished she could just disappear into the floor.

  “You’re doing a very nice job,” she said, her haughty gaze flickering over Rissa as though what she was saying was something rehearsed. “You know this is a very special occasion.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Rissa responded.

  “Evan is going to announce our engagement. I can hardly wait. And I’m sure my ring is just to die for,” she gushed.

  Rissa barely heard the rest but she must have made all the right noises, because Tiffany soon left. And then she looked up to see Evan standing in the doorway.

  “Rissa,” he said.

  Rissa held up both hands. “No need to explain. I understand perfectly.”

  “No you don’t…” he began and reached for her.

  Rissa stepped back out of his reach. “Oh, yes I do, Mr. Brogan. Your engagement party will go off without a hitch because I’m a professional and I finish what I start.”

  Chapter Six

  “Why did he order so much food?” Rissa asked the cook.

  It was arriving by the truckload and the kitchen was bustling with people, partially her own staff, partially the Brogan’s staff. And it was going to take every last one of them to get everything done in the next couple of days. There were over twenty turkeys, two dozen hams and she had lost count of the roasts. The desserts alone were going to fill up one whole side of the kitchen, and ranged from traditional pies and cakes to more exotic fare, sweet and sumptuous.

  The cook shrugged. “It’s not usually like this but…”

  Rissa shook her head. Evan was just like every spoiled rich kid she’d ever known. Wasteful. There were people right there in town who needed this food, who she was sure went hungry some nights. The thought of hungry children fueled her anger while she witnessed the preparations going on around her.

  At last, unable to stand it another moment, Rissa left the kitchen and moved through the front hall, making last minute adjustments. She only had to endure one more day of this torture and then she planned to take a few days off to stay at home, lick her wounds and get herself back together. Discovering that Evan had taken advantage of her that night in the cabin when he was about to be engaged to another woman had destroyed any hope she had that she would one day trust another man.

  As for Evan, she avoided him at all costs and when she did have to talk with him, she made sure it was purely professional, cold and unfeeling. He had broken her heart but he would never, never know.

  Even Johnny noticed a difference in her demeanor, trying his best to cheer her up. But Rissa hid behind her professional façade until she was alone at night, when she could cry into her pillow. The locket that brought her strength and solace was gone. She had not seen it since the night of the accident.

  “You will be here the night of the party,” Evan said when she turned in her final financial report to let him know she was finished.

  “I usually am but I think, under the circumstances, I’d better not attend this function,” she informed him, stepping away from his desk even as they spoke.

  He leaned back in the big leather chair and crossed his arms. “Oh, I think you’d better. In fact, I demand that you be in attendance.”

  “You demand it.” Rissa shot back. “You demand it?”

  “Until this party is over, you are still in my employ,” he said with the authority of someone who expected to be obeyed. “You will be there.”

  “So I can watch a bunch of hateful rich people have a good time? So I can watch you get engaged to that nit wit? So I can watch thousands of dollars' worth of food be wasted when there are hungry children right here in your home town? I don’t think so, sir,” Rissa realized she had been shouting and closed her eyes to calm her nerves, again reaching for the missing locket.

  “You will be there,” he said, quietly. “Or I won’t pay the remainder of the fee I owe your company because, as far as I’m concerned, you did not finish your job. Nor will your big strong friends get their last checks.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” Rissa’s anger flared again.

  “Stay away from the party and you’ll find out,” he said with finality.

  Turning on her heel, Rissa stormed out of the library, out of the house. By the time she reached her car, she was sobbing, tears of rage running down her cheeks, tears of hurt and the total hopelessness of the situation. God, how could she have been so stupid to have trusted him.

  On the night of the Brogan’s party, Rissa was a nervous wreck. She and Lillie had gone shopping that day and picked out a festive red dress to wear. It had a sweetheart neckline and was slit up one side to show off a bit of thigh. The dress had just the right amount of sparkle to announce itself as a party dress, and her matching heels finished off the ensemble.

  Out of pure habit, Rissa arrived before the other guests. The Brogan mansion was a dazzling jewel in the night and she smiled proudly as she walked up the steps. They had indeed done a wonderful job. Inside was just as beautiful. On the balcony, the small quartet was fine tuning their instruments. The two huge Christmas trees were lit and underneath were hundreds of gifts. They hadn’t been there when she left the day before so she assumed his staff had placed them there. In the kitchen, everything was strangely calm with everyone in place and everything running smoothly.

  And then she saw Evan. His black tux was obviously tailored to fit his large frame and he moved comfortably in it as if it was his birthright. She stayed out of his sight as long as she could while he greeted their guests warmly and led them into the dining room where a bar had been set up. She overheard more than one guest tell him how beautiful the place looked and how excited they were about this special celebration.

  Evan assured them that the best was yet to come and then hurried off to greet even more people. Finally, he spotted her but she managed to get lost in the crowd and stay away from him. She saw Tiffany arrive, in a dress that looked like a designer original, clinging to Evan possessively as he tried to take care of his guests. He encouraged her to sit with his mother and she did so but not until she'd crossed her arms and stuck out her lower lip like a spoiled child.

  At last, Evan called for attention but it took a few moments for everyone to quiet down. Rissa tried to get to the kitchen but her pathway was blocked. She knew she could not stand there and watch him announce his engagement to Tiffany. Her heart would simply explode. He was talking, telling a joke or something, his deep voice filling the hall as Rissa tried in vain to leave the room.

  “They’re here,” someone announced.

  Both big doors were opened and more guests filed slowly into the huge hall. However, to Rissa’s surprise, these were people she knew, people dressed in clean but shabby clothes, gazing in awe at the spectacular sight before them. There were men, women and children, families and friends from all over town, young and old. Once it was obvious they were all inside, the doors were closed again. The huge hall was filled to capacity and Rissa could not imagine what was going to happen next. Surely, he didn’t need to announce his engagement to everyone in town!

  Again, Evan called for quiet and this time it happened almost immediately.

  “We have this party every year but this year is a very special celebration.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Rissa saw Tiffany stand up and start toward Evan.

  “On this date, five years ago, my younger brother, Jeffrey was killed in a plane crash. As you can imagine the grief our family experienced was devastating. My mother was advised to start pulling out of business ventures and, reluctantly closed Brogan Manufacturing here in town. We have since then realized t
hat this was a gigantic mistake, not only for our family but for this town as well. Tonight, we are celebrating Jeffrey’s life by reopening the plant. I’ll be personally running the facility and each and every one of you who wants a job will have one.”

  A great cheer rose from the crowd and Evan was smiling happily as he held his hands up for silence again.

  Tiffany sank back onto the settee with Evan’s mother looking a little sick to her stomach.

  “As well, tonight, we’re celebrating the joy of Christmas, the joy of giving and sharing and of coming together as human beings. There’s plenty of food for everyone and I think Santa might just make an appearance…”

  “Ho! Ho! Ho!” The big voice boomed through the hall, bouncing off the walls and turning every head in his direction.

  Children squealed and everyone’s face lit up with surprise as a man with a white beard and a red suit bounded into the room.

  “I’ve got lots of presents for all the good little boys and girls here,” Santa shouted. “Now, who’s been good?”

  All the children shouted right back and headed in his direction.

  Rissa knew immediately that Santa was really Johnny and tears sprang to her eyes. This night was turning out to be full of surprises and she knew she must get to Evan to apologize.

  “Rissa.”

  She jumped, startled. It was Evan and he was right beside her. The way he said her name, reminded her of the way he had said it that night at the cabin. “I have something for you,” he said, pressing a small box into her hands.

  “Evan, I don’t know what to say,” Rissa began. “I’m so sorry for the way I judged you and your family.”

  “No need to be sorry. You didn’t know all the details. No one did,” he told her.

  “What about your engagement?”

  “Everyone just assumed Tiffany and I would be married. We grew up together. Her family expected it and so did mine. I guess I just assumed we would get married, too, until I met you. In that split second, I knew Tiffany was not the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

  “But the other day…”

  “I caught a glimpse of you as you left the room, and I knew what you were thinking. What you saw, however, was her trying to force her way back into my life. I hadn’t said anything, but she knew things had changed,” he explained quietly.

  Rissa could think of nothing to say. She simply stared at him speechless while the room filled behind her filled with laughter.

  “Open your present,” he urged, reminding her that she was holding a small foil wrapped box.

  With shaking fingers Rissa peeled back the paper and opened the box. “My locket,” she gasped. “I thought I’d lost it.”

  "I found it for you. We rich people can do that."

  Evan was grinning from ear to ear as Rissa lifted it out of the box. Dangling from the chain beside the silver heart was a gold one.

  He placed the chain around her neck and fastened it. Then he touched the gold heart. “This is my heart, Rissa,” he said. “It’s yours for as long as you want it.”

  “Oh, Evan,” Rissa breathed and moved into his arms.

  This time, when they kissed, there wasn’t a mistletoe in sight.

  Curves for the Outlaw

  I licked my lips and felt my heartbeat thud in response to the tension between myself and the strange man. My eyes shifted and I felt them grow large as they wandered down to watch his lazy hands.

  He was taking off his belt, unbuckling it slowly, looking at me to gauge my reaction. I tried to not show him. I tried to hide my tension, my embarrassment, my aching need. My nakedness.

  This was wrong, but it had been so long that my body was pushing toward him even as my mind pulled away. In truth, I wasn't moving at all, tied to the thick wooden beam this way, my hands secure behind my back.

  I didn't know if it was fear, or excitement, or something else. Some edge was slicing through my body, making my chest heave with each shuddering breath.

  I didn't know his name, didn't even know how he got into my house. All I knew was that the big man had surprised me in the corral, captured my wrists in one heavy hand, and untied my apron. I didn't say a word as I watched it fall to the worn dirt, but I shuddered. I didn't say a word when he pulled me in through the big barn doors and stripped off my simple dress as well.

  I knew what kind of man he was, thanks to the shopkeeper in town. Maryanna sent little Michael out to my ranch this morning, to warn me about the outlaws that were riding through the area. No one knew what they wanted, no one ever did - until they took it. I wondered where the rest of them were.

  I knew what this man wanted. I could see it in his proud eyes, the lift of his chin, the way he squared off in front of me and looked me over, the belt in his hand now. When he raised his gaze from under the brim of his cowboy hat and pinned mine, I was proud that I didn't flinch, much as I wanted to. Instead, I raised my own chin and held his stare.

  "Feisty little thing, aren't you?" His voice cut through the hush of the old building.

  I didn't answer. Couldn't. My retort about not being little curled up on my tongue and died as he raised the belt and caressed my cheek with it, then smiled when I trembled at the smell of warm leather and clean man.

  My reactions scared me. I had to stop this from happening. I had been here, alone and unscathed, for too long to let this man violate my home or my body.

  The belt slipped lower, down my throat, to lay between my breasts. The rough edge of leather on my skin only heightened my craving, but I tried not to let him see.

  He did, though, because my body refused to settle. Heat swirled all the way up, from my ankles to my calves, brushing the backs of my knees and then curling along my spine to interrupt my breathing. I felt myself grow wet. I felt my nipples twist hard and push toward him, asking to be touched. My very skin was hungry for the feel of his hands.

  In one part of my mind, I was trying to talk myself down. Trying to remember that this man was a threat, a danger to me, but it wasn't helping. I had gone too long without a man, gone too long without proper release.

  His free hand touched my collarbone, the rough knuckles scraping down my skin to graze against the outside of my right breast, just barely. Just enough to tease. My body raged hotter.

  Horrified, I heard myself moan. Horrified, my eyes met his again. I knew he heard my ragged breathing, knew he saw the pulse jump in my throat, but there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

  He chuckled and moved those knuckles across to graze my nipple.

  "Please," I whispered, but I wasn't even sure what I was asking. For him to stop? Or worse, for him to put out the fire that was building deep in my core?

  I wanted to rub my thighs together, squeeze them hard enough put out the flames that licked at me. I didn't move, it would only make him laugh at me again.

  He had to be laughing at me. I wasn't one of the thin town girls. I was a woman who worked hard and enjoyed the fruits of her labor. My muscles were hard and lean, but covered by a layer of softness that curved my hips and made my breasts swing heavy.

  Most of the time I felt feminine and soft, but with the eyes of this outlaw roaming my body, I wondered what he saw. Did he count the extra pounds that I hid under my dresses? Did he think I was matronly, or 'healthy', a term that I had heard before? I hated that term.

  My body image wasn't something I thought about often. I was busy, I was strong, and I was doing fine on my ranch. On my own. This man reminded me that others saw me differently.

  Why hadn't he chosen one of the town girls? Why hadn't he gone down to the Parson ranch, where beautiful teen daughters helped their mother pick apples? Not that I wished this ill on them, but why? It seemed like it would be a man's preference.

  Somehow, I had been chosen instead. Good. I could take the abuse, and if he killed me, it meant that he would maybe spare another woman.

  His knuckles grazed my nipple again, then slid down to cup my full breast, hefting it
and making me moan again.

  He smiled. For a second I saw the handsome man behind his icy blue eyes, and I began to melt inside.

  I should fight this. I wanted to fight this. This was bad.

  My body refused to listen. My body wanted him.

  The belt slid lower, down my stomach to rest on the spot that burned the hottest. My whole body began to quiver and arched toward the belt without my permission. I suddenly felt hollow, empty and needy and aching. I wanted him to drop the belt, cup his hand over my mound, find my center and fill it.

  I looked away. I didn't want him to see my desires. I didn't want him to use my needs against me.

  The belt pushed in, moving back and forth a little, finding the knot that throbbed within my folds. I moaned again and my body moved, rubbing against it, creating the friction that I needed so badly.

  He pulled it away.

  "I see a lover in your body, but a fighter in your eyes. How intriguing." I noticed with a touch of wonder that his own voice was a bit ragged. "Which is it, my lady? Are you a lover or a fighter?"

  His words cleared my foggy mind, cutting in to remind me that this was a dangerous situation. I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them again and looked up at him when I found my voice.

  "I'm a landowner, and you are trespassing. Let me be." My words sounded calmer and braver than I felt.

  He put a finger on my lips, closing them. "You're words cut me, woman. Am I not welcome here?"

  The laughter in his voice shot an arrow of shame through me. Could I not even defend myself? For heaven's sake, my own body wouldn't even obey me. Helplessness made tears prick behind my eyelids, so I simply looked down without answering.

  He used a finger to lift my chin, and our eyes met. He saw. He saw everything, and he took it in with a steady nod. Every emotion that rolled through me, every nerve that he ignited, every response my body gave him only confirmed what I wasn't saying. What I would never say.

  That I wanted him.

  I looked away when my body began to tremble. The belt was still brushing between my legs, making me wetter, making my desire evident. Heat bloomed over and over, spreading through my limbs. I swallowed hard and clenched my jaw to keep from moaning again. My breasts heaved with the effort, pushing out to offer themselves to him, again, without my permission.

 

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