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Curves for Him - 10 Delicious Tales

Page 58

by Aubrey Rose, Dez Burke, A. T. Mitchell, Catherine Vale, Marian Tee, Harper Ashe, Eliza Gayle, M. G. Morgan, Shirl Anders, Milly Taiden


  “Yes. I’m more than fine... I’ve never been happier in all of my life,” she replied truthfully, trust and love shining brightly in her eyes. “So...this is the big secret you were waiting to tell me?”

  Ryan and Caine shared rueful looks. “Yes. We’re from a clan known as Lycan.” Ryan explained. “Which means we can shift into wolves at will, but can also live as humans. We’re part of a large pack. They are the wolves that came to our aid tonight. And Julie...” he paused only briefly, his eyes fiery with desire and Julie could see just how much he truly loved her. “Once you mate with us, you’ll be part of the pack, too. Forever.”

  They watched her face for any sign that she wouldn’t be able to accept their truth, but she simply smiled, acceptance shining in her blue eyes. “I want nothing more than to be your mate...forever.”

  “You have no idea how happy you’ve made us,” Ryan replied, grinning widely, overcome at the emotion that shone on her face. “But we intend to show you...every day of your life.”

  He reached for her, crushing her into his arms. She wrapped her hands around his neck and kissed him, her lips melting against his.

  Then, suddenly remembering, Julie let out a dismayed groan, and glanced with concern at Caine’s injured arm. She was shocked to see the bloodied graze already fading to nothing more than an angry bruise.

  “I’ll be just fine,” Caine chuckled, and Julie laughed as he pulled her from Ryan’s arms, carefully wrapping her into his own strong, warm embrace. She breathed in his intoxicating scent and decided that there was no place she’d rather be.

  “Just think. In a few days from now you’ll be bound to us both for life.” Caine murmured low, his voice thick with desire. He kissed her softly on the lips and then nibbled a path down to her neck as she burrowed into their warmth and their strength.

  She felt the hardening bulge in Caine’s jeans and giggled.

  “I can live with that.”

  About the Author: Catherine Vale

  Catherine Vale has been writing fiction for as long as she can remember, but it wasn't until she wrote her very first paranormal romance story that she found herself hooked on the raw, edgy love affair of shifters, vampires and other dominant alpha males and the captivating women that love them.

  Today, Catherine Vale writes both contemporary and paranormal romance for readers who are willing to take a walk on the wild side of love. Her stories always include powerful alpha males, smart and sassy heroines and a happily-ever-after (even if she often puts her characters through hell to get there!)

  Do you want to know when there's a new release? Special offers, giveaways, free books and more! Subscribe at http://www.CatherineVale.com/

  Connect With Catherine!

  Website: http://www.CatherineVale.com/

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/valeromance

  If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

  Untamed Hearts (BBW Shifter Romance)

  He’s a wild and dangerous shifter on a motorcycle. She’s a feisty full-figured waitress trying to rebuild her life. Both have something to hide; neither is willing to let go.

  Can two people with so many secrets ever learn to trust again?

  The Greek Billionaire and I by Marian Tee

  Prologue

  Six years ago

  The wail of a police siren destroyed the silence in what was usually a peaceful neighborhood, causing curtains to flutter as curious neighbors peered outside their windows. Front doors slammed open, one after another, and in minutes the street was filled with on-lookers.

  And in the center of it all was Dotty Garfield, a young figure huddled under an emergency blanket that had been wrapped around her shoulders by the paramedics, her beautiful face carefully devoid of emotion as she watched her parents, Wayne and Lindy, being hurriedly taken away on stretchers.

  Behind Dotty, her family’s home looked like it had been ransacked – and it had been. Broken windows, gunshot holes on the walls and door, and overturned potted plants on the front yard. The entire scene didn’t paint the whole story, of course, but she knew that those who really knew her parents would be able to piece everything together soon enough.

  She could feel people’s eyes on her, and this caused Dotty to raise her chin and stand proud even if all she wanted to do was just sink into the ground and cry. She wished she were a year younger. If she was seventeen, that meant she was still a child and had the right to cry. To bawl like a kid and wait for someone to comfort her and take care of everything.

  But she was eighteen now, and the legality of her age weighed down on her like a brick around her neck, drowning her in responsibilities that she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

  “Miss?” It was one of the paramedics, a middle-aged woman with sympathy in her gaze.

  Dotty dug her nails into her palms, the look on the woman’s face making her want to cry. But that wasn’t going to happen. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not now, not ever.

  “Would you come with us to the ambulance? We need to go now.”

  She nodded, allowing the woman to assist her inside the ambulance and seat her next to her mother’s unconscious form. Dotty forced herself to look at Lindy even though she knew it was just going to make her want to cry more.

  Why, Mom? Why?

  But she didn’t bother asking it out loud. What was the point? She had learned early on that some people were innately good...but weak. And their weakness made them bad. Wayne and Lindy were like that. They had been loving parents to Dotty, but in the end it was obvious that they loved the green goddess more.

  Lindy’s breathing was shallow.

  Dotty forced herself to ask, “Will she be okay?”

  “We’ll do our best, hon.”

  Which meant they weren’t sure. Again, the urge to cry hit her, but she mentally pushed it away. Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a dick. It really didn’t mean anything, but she had once read a book that encouraged people to use affirmations – preferably those that rhymed – to keep one positive and strong. Since Dotty was no word master, it was either that...or “Cursed are the weak, for they shall inherit pee on their meat.”

  The ride to the hospital was quick, and when they got there she saw her father already being wheeled inside. She was taken to admissions first and made to sign papers – lots and lots of papers.

  Behind Dotty, she heard one of the paramedics say that the man they had just wheeled in was “critical”.

  This caused Dotty’s fingers to shake, and the pen wriggled out of control, leaving a crooked line on the sheet.

  She tightened her hold on the pen. Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a dick.

  When she was done signing, Dotty asked if she could see her parents. The nurse looked over Dotty’s shoulder, and when she turned around, a policewoman was behind her. “Ms. Garfield? Would it be all right if I speak with you privately? Your parents are being operated on at the moment, and we thought we could ask you a few questions for now. I know it’s been tough, but your answers can help ensure we catch your parents’ attackers.”

  Dotty wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. It’s been tough? She had been seven when she had figured out her parents were junkies and that when they wanted to be left alone, it wasn’t to make another baby. She had been ten when she had learned that the scary-looking men who knocked on their doors late at night were never there to deliver pizza but were instead asking for payment for weed. And now, on her 18th birthday, which was supposed to be a milestone, she had just survived a shootout between her parents and their pissed-off suppliers when the latter found out that instead of selling the product, Wayne and Lindy had been idiotic and addicted enough to consume it. Consume – not like a taste test but a freaking buffet, leaving not a single gram for sale.

  It’s been tough?

  Under-freaking-statement of the year.

  And so she had to mentally chant ‘weak is a dick’ several times before she could make herself look at the policewoman and say, “Yes.” In mi
nutes, they were ensconced inside a private office. Dotty answered the questions honestly, leaving nothing out. When it was over, she made a move to stand up, but the policewoman told her to stay because someone else wanted to talk to her.

  A woman in a lab coat came inside the room right after the policewoman. Shrink, Dotty thought. Maybe they thought she was about to have a nervous breakdown?

  “Hello, Dotty. I’m Dr. Nelson,” the woman said with a smile that was just the right mix of friendly and impersonal. She claimed the seat the policewoman had just vacated, which placed her directly across Dotty.

  “Are you talking to me because you guys think I need therapy?”

  “I volunteered to talk to you.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because,” Dr. Nelson said gently, “I was once in your position, too. My parents were like yours, and when I found out about what happened, I thought you might need someone to talk to.”

  How...nice. It was really nice of the doctor, and since that kind of niceness hadn’t been much in evidence in the past few weeks, it had Dotty’s hands curling into fists on her lap. Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, WEAK IS A DICK.

  Elizabeth sensed the young girl’s struggle to maintain control, and her respect for Dotty Garfield grew. She was an exceptionally beautiful girl, but unlike most pretty girls the doctor had come across, her looks didn’t appear to have any effect on Dotty’s ego.

  Instead, she looked to Elizabeth as someone well-rounded, sensible, and composed. Too composed for a girl her age, Elizabeth thought with a pang, and because she, too, had once been like that, she knew it wasn’t a good thing at all.

  “The reason I wanted to talk to you is because what happened will cause changes in your life, and I do not want you to feel alone when those changes occur.” At the young girl’s nod, Elizabeth continued softly, “Your parents need to go to rehab. I want to be frank with you about this. If you don’t get them to go, I don’t think they’ll last the year.”

  “I see.” Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a dick.

  “If you manage to get them to rehab, it will, however, mean you’d be all alone. Normally, in cases like this, someone from Social Services would ensure you’re taken care of. But you’re already eighteen, and I just learned that your parents have no direct relatives to take you in temporarily. Do you know of any friends of your parents...”

  “They’re all like them.” Weak is a dick. Weak is a dick. Weak is a dick. “I’ll figure something out. I’m used to doing things on my own.”

  “But that’s just one of the changes, Dotty,” Elizabeth said quietly. “There’s also the financial aspect to consider. Do you know if your parents have money set aside for your college education? There will be regular bills to pay for your home. Also, rehab costs money...”

  “I...see.” Weak is a dick. Weak is a dick—-

  A choked sob escaped Dotty, and the sound of it horrified and shamed her that she quickly covered her mouth and did her best to keep it inside.

  “Dotty—-” Elizabeth reached out to the younger woman but when Dotty shook her head profusely, Elizabeth knew better than to insist on comforting her.

  “I’m...okay.” Dotty managed a smile.

  The way the girl was trying to be so brave made Elizabeth smile, too, albeit shakily. She just saw herself too much in Dotty that it was hard to maintain a professional distance. “Just this once, Dotty, I’m going to forget I’m a doctor. Just this once, I want to talk to you as one survivor to another. Because you will survive this—-”

  Dotty almost wanted to cover her ears. Cruelty, she could handle. Idiocy, she was used to. But this kind of niceness? This kind of support? She squeezed her eyes shut. Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a dick.

  “I know that right now, you’re thinking you can do it on your own. And maybe you can, but that’s not the point. Don’t let your pride force you into a corner, Dotty. Accept help when you can but be wise, be careful, be selective about the people you trust.”

  She forced the words out. “I’m scared.” Dotty felt like she was drowning in shame as she admitted the truth. “Mom and Dad were supposed to be there for me, but they weren’t. I know they need help, I know I shouldn’t be angry, but I am...I hate myself for hating them, but I do.” She struggled to control the emotions rising inside her, but it was too late. Dotty started to cry. “Why can’t they be strong for me? Why do I always have to be strong for them?”

  This time, when Elizabeth drew the girl into her arms, Dotty didn’t resist. “I’m sorry, child. Some people are just weak. Some people just can’t be trusted, and there’s nothing you can do but be strong for yourself...until you find people who love you enough to be strong for you.”

  Chapter One

  Mykolas Sallis nodded in acknowledgment as the school employees he walked past on his way to the library respectfully murmured his name in greeting. Although he rarely visited his stepsister’s school, it came as no surprise to him that everyone seemed to recognize his face. The owner of the school, Rose Thorn, was supposedly very good at flattering the egos of its school’s wealthy patrons. Considering the amount he donated every year to support the school’s arts program, Mykolas suspected that GAYL’s employees probably even knew his favorite food.

  “Do you have a private room here where I would not be disturbed?” he asked the librarian upon entering the library, which was thankfully empty. Waiting at the school hall had proven to be too exhausting, with school girls tittering all around him.

  The librarian answered nervously, “The faculty room of the library is currently unoccupied, Mr. Sallis.”

  “That will do. Please let my sister know where I am when she comes.”

  The faculty room was at the far end of the library, tastefully decorated and with one side made entirely of glass, allowing Mykolas to see those who entered the library. Taking one of the chairs, Mykolas absently scanned the room, and his gaze eventually fell on the iPhone next to a heap of books. Reaching for it on impulse, he found the phone without a password, causing him to grimace as he was very big on security.

  Idly deciding to check the phone’s messages, Mykolas almost choked when he read the one sent by someone named Andrew to the phone’s owner.

  10:01 Can I borrow the keys?

  10:01 You already have it.

  10:02 What?

  10:03 The keys to my heart.

  10:07 Velvet?

  10:08 Sorry for the late reply. Busy killing myself coz your stupid jokes drove me to suicide.

  Keys to my heart? Mykolas didn’t blame the phone’s owner for attempting suicide at that. He moved to the next message, which was sent by Thomas, yet another seemingly ardent admirer.

  13:15 How about going for a movie tomorrow night?

  13:16 Thomas, you’re a good guy, so I’m going to tell you the truth once and for all.

  13:17 What is it?

  13:18 I’m a lesbian. I want your dick – but not for the reasons you’re hoping for.

  The next one came from a third admirer, Greg.

  14:24 I’m serious, Velvet. I don’t think I’ll be able to live without you.

  14:25 But I CAN live without you, and that’s the problem.

  Mykolas shook his head, reluctantly impressed by the woman’s answers, which were always snarky but witty. It would be interesting to find out who this Velvet was, and a second later, an idea came to him, causing a smile to play on his lips as he pocketed the phone.

  ****

  “I think I left my phone somewhere,” Velvet admitted unhappily to Mandy as she fell in step next to her friend.

  Mandy groaned. “You just almost lost it yesterday. See? You should have taken my advice and used a strap or chain to keep it with you at all times.” A slim dark-haired girl, Mandy was a very practical sort, the kind that would accept charity even from her worst enemy if she was down on her luck.

  Velvet hated spending for unnecessary things, but maybe Mandy was right a
nd that strap was more of a necessity than a frivolous purchase. “I’ll buy it soon as I find my phone. I think I left it...” She had a light bulb moment, which caused Velvet’s jade-colored eyes to flash brightly. “I think I know where I left it! I was at the library this morning and I must have forgotten to take it with me when I was called to sub for Andrew’s class.”

  “Want me to go with you?”

  “No, it’s okay,” Velvet said over her shoulder. “Let’s just meet later for dinner.” When she got to the library, she was hailed by the librarian even before she could take another step past the counter.

  “Ms. Lambert? A gentleman found your phone in the faculty room.”

  Velvet accepted the phone, bemused at the way the librarian was looking at her with interest. “A gentleman?” That seemed an odd way to refer to one of the male teachers, so she asked the younger girl, “Who is it?”

  “He says he’ll call you.”

  “Oh. Okay. Umm, thanks.” Slowly, she turned around and left the library, feeling like she had just had the oddest conversation in her life, and that was saying something. As she headed to the teachers’ dorm, her phone buzzed in her pocket, startling her.

  Fishing it out and seeing an unidentified number, Velvet answered the call. “Hello?”

  Mykolas leaned back against the plush cushions of his yacht’s custom-designed sofa. He had hoped to meet the intriguing Velvet Lambert – a little digging in her phone allowed him to figure out her name – but his meeting with his stepsister had to be cut short because of an emergency back in Athens.

  Velvet’s frown was evident in her voice, and this made his smile widen. “You have found your phone then.”

  The voice at the other end of the line was decidedly Greek, a deep accented baritone filled with sensual confidence and natural arrogance. Oh no, Velvet immediately thought. Her friend Mairi’s Greek billionaire sounded exactly like this, and look what had happened to her. Granted, Mairi and Damen Leventis were a couple now – they had just gotten engaged last night, in fact – but even so, the sheer amount of drama the two had gone through to earn their happy ever after was too much for Velvet.

 

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