Manhattan Miracle

Home > Other > Manhattan Miracle > Page 20
Manhattan Miracle Page 20

by Dawning, Dee


  Suzi's eyes and mouth opened wide. "You would?"

  "Yes, just no mind swapping. All right?"

  "Whatever you say boss, but that worked out great, too!"

  "It did, but we could have got in big trouble for that one!"

  Suzi grinned. "But we didn't."

  "True and it was fun. Okay on a case by case basis and not without my approval." Soriano winked. "And whatever you do, don't ever tell Gabe."

  The End

  We hope you enjoyed Manhattan Miracle.

  And if you did, won't you let others know by writing and posting a short reader review.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  If you like warmth, live in Arizona like Dee Dawning does. If you like to read hot sexy stories born and raised in the sweltering summer heat of Arizona, check out his scribblings.

  Dee has been writing saucy romance stories and novels for eight years. At this time, he has thirty-seven titles available.

  Dee & his lovely wife currently reside in Scottsdale, Arizona, where he writes a novella every three to four months and a novel every eight months.

  If you'd be interested in a sexy, erotic version of Manhattan Miracle, check out EEK! I'm a Woman

  Other stories by Dee Dawning, which you may enjoy.

  BLURB

  Wildly attracted to each other, can a beautiful, shy sister and a devilishly handsome atheist fall in love and find happiness despite their differences?

  It was love at first sight. That’s what the lovely, shy Sister in Waiting Laurel, and the devilishly, handsome Julian Peters both agree. But is their overpowering love and attraction enough to allow this unlikely couple to overcome the obvious societal obstacles plus the differences between their own core beliefs to make a life together?

  Chapter One – They Meet

  "When I saw you, I fell in love. And you smiled because you knew."

  ~Arrigo Boito~

  The first time I saw him, was early morning in Java Joint. I couldn't keep my eyes off him—he, with his searing good looks and devilish smile. I should have left. I should have picked up my latte, my book and made a beeline for the entry door, never to lay eyes on him again. However, I not only didn't, I couldn't. The man had me under his spell.

  Standing patiently in line, waiting to place his order, he possessed the appearance of an angel. Or at least what I imagined an angel would look like. His long, but stylish shock of wavy light brown hair, framed strong cheekbones, straight Roman nose and pouty lips. Long and lean, his athletic frame was dressed casually in designer jeans, a long sleeved cobalt blue shirt, and buff topsiders.

  He scanned the room, as most people do while waiting in a queue. Caught off guard, when his piercing blue eyes met mine, I flinched. I felt a tinge of embarrassment and cozy warmth enveloped me. Was it from being caught ogling him, or the lusty approving manner in which those mesmerizing silver-blue eyes appraised me?

  This is wrong. Forcing myself to shift my gaze, I picked up my drink and sipped the last of it. Back to my book, my eyes scanned the words, but their meaning failed to penetrate my mind. The man demolished my concentration.

  A furtive glance in his direction revealed his continued interest. My Goodness he's pointing at me. And then he caught me staring at him. My eyes immediately returned to my book. I must not to look up again. Heat engulfed me, perspiration, formed on my brow and other unmentionable places. This is too embarrassing. I picked up the coaster and began to fan myself. I thought to stand up, but my legs wouldn't respond. My breathing increased as if the vision of him had reduced the available oxygen. What's wrong with me?

  I couldn't believe the turmoil that raged through me. The urge to look up, to see what he was doing overpowered me, but I wouldn't. I can't let him see me watching him. I must be strong. I belong to Him.

  "Hi."

  Reflexively, my eyes sought the source of the voice. My stomach did a flip and my mouth dropped open. It was him. He smiled. "Hope you don't mind. I noticed you were almost out so I bought another café latte for you." His melodic, masculine voice made my heart jump a beat while his closeness increased my pulse rate and made it hard for me to breathe.

  He set the drink down in front of me.

  "A Bible. Are you religious?"

  Through my dry throat, I tried to speak, yet was speechless. I nodded.

  "Well, I'm not." He plopped down in the chair next to me.

  The nerve of him!

  He tilted his head and cast an endearing smile. "Perhaps, I should stick around and show you the error of your ways."

  That focused me. My nervousness vanished. "Are you not a believer?"

  "No, ma'am. I'm afraid not. My parents are, but to their chagrin, I refused to buy into their Christian mumbo jumbo."

  I was both offended and fascinated. I didn't remember ever meeting a blatant, admitted atheist. "Mumbo jumbo, indeed. Perhaps, I should stick around to show you the error of your ways."

  He threw back his head and laughed.

  I laughed too.

  "I think I'd like that." He offered his hand. "My name is Julian Peters."

  He obviously expected my name in return. Did I want to show him salvation through God? I am supposed to save those who need saving, but this one—an avowed non-theist—would be a challenge. I took his hand. It was warm. Or, due to nervousness, was mine cold in comparison?

  "Laurel Adams, but I should warn you. I believe in God with all my heart."

  With his hand still warming mine, he answered, "You are much too pretty to be wrapped up in God." His gaze shifted to my breasts, across my modest, loose fitting, gray sweater and continued downward to my black skirt, "And your clothes should complement, rather than hide your lovely figure."

  Heat surged through me at the mention of my body. My sexuality was something I'd always had trouble dealing with.

  "Now, Laurel, I'm sure your beliefs are strong. All I ask is that you keep an open mind. Can you do that?"

  "Of course, but what about you?"

  He laughed. "That may be more problematic. I've spent most of my teen and adult life rethinking the mental pabulum I was force-fed from childhood."

  I tensed at the satirical reference to my core belief.

  He must have noticed, because he then said, "However, if you can tell or show me something compelling, I will accept it. Shall we go?"

  My eyebrows dipped into a frown. I glanced around. "Wha…where do you want to take me?"

  A mischievous glint sparked in his eyes. Most likely, trying to hold back a smile, he said, "I won't go into where I want to take you."

  Once again, I felt heat, this time from his suggestive innuendo.

  He stood and pulled me to my feet. "Grab your latte and don't forget your Bible." He winked. "You're going to need it."

  I wanted to go. Really, I did. He was so interesting, dismissing God so cavalierly and God knew how attracted I was to him. Could it be a test from God, himself? To bring someone I find as desirable as Julian into my life? But what if he's dangerous?

  I pulled my hand away. "Hold on. I don't know you. I met you ten minutes ago. I need to know where you wan…plan on taking me."

  He smiled so broadly, dimples formed in his cheeks. "Of course you do. I could be a rapist or worse a serial killer."

  He laughed at his attempt at a joke, which I didn't find the least bit humorous. He pulled out his wallet. "I plan to take you where I work."

  He removed and handed me a card. I read it.

  Assistant Antiquities Acquisition Director, Natural History Museum.

  "Triple A, that's me."

  This time, I smiled. I was just a little impressed. "You work at the Natural History Museum?"

  He gave a single nod.

  In my excitement, my hands involuntarily moved. "I love that place."

  "Shall we go then?"

  I answered demurely, "Maybe, but what does the museum have to do with disproving God?"

  "Nothing, but it debunks one of the tenets of the Bible—Creation."


  I gazed sternly at him. "The strict interpretation, yes, but I happen to agree with the less literal view. I'll tell you what. I haven't been there in awhile and I would love a tour from an expert. I'll meet you in the front lobby."

  "Don't you want to go with me?"

  Now, it was my turn to wink. "You could be an ax murderer."

  * * * *

  I could have danced. The breath of fresh air named Laurel was going to meet me. God she was hot, with her shoulder-length dark hair and large brown eyes. Gorgeous and smart, she didn't seem to realize how special she was. I had to laugh. I wasn't going to sit with her, but the growing problem in my pants forced my presumptive action. Thankfully, it worked out.

  The moment I first saw Laurel, I was interested. Trying to be inconspicuous, I'd watched her at first in the mirror behind the counter while she watched me. Fantastic, I'd thought, I have to meet this delectable tidbit. When the line had moved forward and she fell out of view, I chanced the occasional surreptitious glance. The few times we'd locked eyes, my stomach lurched, but I resisted looking away. The shy thing she was, she immediately averted her gaze and blushed.

  And now, I'm on my way to meet her at the museum. What a stroke of luck. My first choice would have been to take her home, undress her and make love to her. You don't fuck a woman like that; you make slow, passionate, meaningful love to her. In time, Julian. In time. She wasn't the kind of woman that would just jump in bed. There was something pure and innocent about her. With a woman like that you take your time and woo. That kind of woman deserves a lifetime commitment. Whoa, Buddy. You're getting way ahead of yourself.

  I clicked the lock on my Porsche Cayenne SUV and hopped in. After taking 101 to 110, I jumped off at Exposition Blvd. I pulled in my designated space in the rear of the building and rushed into the huge edifice. By the time I reached the lobby I was out of breath and…she wasn't there. Could this be a brush off? I glanced around. She was nowhere visible. I rushed to the gift shop. No Laurel.

  I headed for the information booth, but after I arrived, I didn't know what to ask the attendant. While I was thinking of what to ask her, a fingertip pressed me between my shoulder blades. I swung around and there was a vision of splendor—Laurel smiled at me with her beatific countenance.

  I'm sure I shocked her and the attendant, but I was so happy to see her, I took her in my arms and kissed her. She didn't respond, but neither did she push me away.

  Realizing what I'd done—how forward I'd been—I jerked away.

  "I ah…excuse…I umm, don't know. Please forgive me…I was so…worried when I—"

  Laurel began to laugh—a pretty, infectious laugh.

  I shrugged my shoulders and sighed.

  "Wow. You give a whole new meaning to the term personal tour. Do all the recipients of individual tours of the museum get such a warm greeting?"

  I must have blushed, because a flush of heat shot though me, as did she when I responded, "Only a beautiful angel such as you, sent to bedazzle me. But time's a wastin'. Where would you like to start?"

  In her first personal gesture, she snuck her arm inside the crook of mine and said, "I can't make up my mind. You pick."

  * * * *

  After two hours of touring Habitat Hall, Mammal Hall and a couple others, He took me to the café. I was too nervous to feel hungry, so I ordered only iced tea and dined on his handsome appearance. He ordered coffee with cream, a tidbit of info I stored in my memory bank, and a piece of chocolate cake, a la mode with two forks.

  I liked this man. Being with him made me happy. He was witty, self-effacing, cheerful, and totally charming, not to mention I found him irresistible. I could relax with him and open up. Something I had great difficulty doing, especially under my current circumstances.

  After managing to sock away half of his cake and ice cream, he asked the question I dreaded, but knew was inevitable. "You know what I do. Tell me what do you do?"

  Coward that I was, I told him only part of the truth, "I'm a nurse in training."

  An eyebrow rose. He was thinking, but he let me off the hook when he followed up, "Ahh, I would have guessed beauty queen or movie starlet."

  He kept talking about how beautiful I was. I'm not ugly, but I didn't get it. He was so accomplished and handsome, I didn't understand why he was even bothered with me.

  "Julian. I know I'm only average looking. Why all the flattery? I'm not going to go to bed with you."

  His mouth fell open. "Are you kidding me? Don't you know how attractive you are? I thought you dressed plain and simple to ward off all the predatory men that surely must be hitting on you. And yes, I'd like to make love to you, but not until I've earned it. Not until you ask me."

  "That won't happen. There are no men, no suitors. The occasional doctor may get friendly, but that's about it. I live a very secluded life." I should tell him. Why is it so difficult to tell him? Why?

  * * * *

  I was incredulous. "Don't you ever go out, have fun?"

  She shook her head. "It seems like I'm always too busy to do something fun."

  I stood and grasped her hand. I loved her hands, her long elegant fingers and nails. "C'mon, we can finish the tour later."

  Confusion materialized upon her lovely face. "What? Where do you want to go now?"

  "I know we just met, but I think of you like a friend. Maybe more, but certainly a friend. Would you like to be my friend?"

  "Y-e-s."

  "Good, as your friend, I'm going to show you how stunning you are and after that I'm going to take you out and show you a fantastic time. Okay?"

  She seemed to ruminate upon what I'd said. What's she thinking behind those penetrating, warm, brown eyes?

  After what seemed like minutes, she answered, "Okay, but I won't go to anyplace wild."

  BLURB

  Fed-up with politics and the sudden right wing war on women, a group of determined women take matters into their own hands and form a women's political party. Initially laughed at by the established political parties, they soon change their tune when women and some men begin signing up in droves.

  GENDER WARS – War on Women is a tongue-in-cheek Political Chick-lit set in an Alternate Reality. It is a mainstream story, based loosely on the Republican 'War on Women' that would not appeal to Right of Center readers.

  Book One

  The Movement

  Prologue

  There’s been a real deterioration in conservative thinking [over the past decade]… I've become less conservative since the Republican Party started becoming goofy. – Judge Richard Posner

  "We now take you to Richmond, Virginia, where Jenna Kenner is standing by. Jenna, what's going on?"

  "Thank you Jeff. I'm here at the state capital building, where a large group of peaceful, but angry women are demonstrating."

  "So I see. How many demonstrators are there?"

  "I don't know for sure. Somewhere between seven and nine hundred, I would guess."

  "One of the signs reads, 'Keep Yer Stinking Laws Out of My Vagina'. What are they upset about?"

  "From what I can determine they're wound-up over this new abortion law the legislature passed last night where a woman seeking an abortion would have to undergo and pay for a procedure known as a Trans-vaginal Ultrasonic Probe."

  Snicker. "Is that what I think it is?"

  "Yes, and that's not funny, Jeff. How would you like a forced colonic probe?"

  "Ugh, I see your point, sorry. I see a sign that reads, 'If You Cut off my Reproductive Choice, Can I Cut Off Yours? Signed Lorena Bobbitt'. I think I know what that woman has in mind. Would you ask her why she's mad and what she and her friends want?"

  "I think she's the leader. I'll ask her"

  Jenna approached the short, shapely blonde woman and stuck a mic in front of her. "Hi. What's your name?"

  "Doris."

  "Hi, Doris. I'm Jenna Kenner with National News Network. I'd like to ask you a few questions if I may."

  "Sure, what do
you want to know?"

  "I take it you ladies are protesting the new law that Governor Bob McConnell has promised to sign into law today."

  "And you'd be right. We want Governor "Ultrasound Bob" to know that the people this most affects don't like this stinking law, and women across the country are not going to forget, come Election Day."

  "Across the country?"

  Doris rested her sign on the ground. "Absolutely, Virginia isn't the only state where self-righteous men are sticking their nose in our panties."

  "I don't understand. What do you mean?"

  "The Pachyderms have been having a field day approving regressive legislation in Republican-controlled states across the country."

  "Pachyderms?"

  "Yeah, you know, the elephants in the room."

  "Oh, yeah. Which states?"

  "North Carolina, Arizona, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska and Pennsylvania, Georgia, Mississippi, to name a few.

  "My God. I had no idea."

  "I know. Republicans know the public doesn't support their laws so they're passing them, like this one—under the radar—and being real quiet about it."

  Jenna turned to the camera. "So there you have it, Jeff. These women feel there is a conspiracy, a war on women, you might say, to take back their hard fought gains on women's rights on health and reproduction."

  "Thank you, Jenna. We'll keep following this story, but right now, I have the Chairman of the Republican Party, Crowe Magnon, and the President of the Women's League, Molly Markum. Molly, we'll start with you. What do you think about all this?"

  Molly, a petite, middle-aged woman with brown hair and a no-nonsense look, frowned. "Like your reporter said, the far right has started a war on women. With the misguided Republican war in Iraq over and forgotten war in Afghanistan winding down, the GOP's collective fingers are getting itchy. So they looked around and 'lo and behold' they've discovered us—women—and decided they don't like the advances we have made over the last fifty years—"

 

‹ Prev