“Hurry,” I urged.
“We have plenty of time.” The laughter in his words told me he intended to tease.
“Just wait until I’m in control,” I said, wriggling, trying to force his cock into my pussy.
The doorbell rang. Not just one buzz, but long and loud as if the caller was leaning on it.
“Hold that thought.” Isaac leapt off me and strode to the door.
“Ahem!” I said. “Clothes?”
He backtracked to grab a white towel and wrapped it around his hips before heading back to answer the door. Sexy. Very sexy.
Mine.
I leaned back against the pillows, my body aching for fulfillment. I pinched my nipple and thought about hurrying my release along. No. Not without Isaac. “Hurry. Send whoever it is away.”
“You got it,” he called back, his voice throbbing with sensual promise.
The doorbell ceased. I heard a murmur of voices.
“You!”
Oh-oh, I knew that voice. I jackknifed to a sitting position and searched frantically for clothes. They were strewn across the floor where we’d tossed them in our hurry to undress last night. The clock ticked. I grabbed my robe from behind the door, put on an impassive face and sauntered out to face the music.
Attack. “Susan, what are you doing here?”
“Poppa and Uncle James wouldn’t tell me anything.” Susan actually pouted.
“I gave them a letter to give you.” In that moment, I realized I’d spoiled my daughter, giving her everything within my power. “You could have rung. The phone number was there.”
“I came to talk sense into you.” She glared at Isaac. “Just as well I came.”
“You remember Isaac.” I indicated the silent man at my side. He looked disinterested, but now I knew him better I recognized his worry.
“I can’t believe you’re sleeping with Isaac.” She looked him up and down in an insulting manner. “He’s the same age as me!” Susan glared at his bare chest. “He could be your son.”
“But he’s not my son.” I was amused rather than angry or abashed. And I wasn’t about to let my daughter jerk my chain. “Isaac is my lover.” Take that. I’d let my daughter have her way, I’d spoiled her, but I really loved Isaac. I wasn’t going to give him up because my daughter didn’t approve. I glanced at Isaac before closing the distance between us. I curled my arm around his waist and leaned into him, inhaling his spicy scent. Silently, he hugged me, returning the encouragement. I felt the strength of his feeling even though no words passed between us. Emotion brought tears to the back of my eyes.
Susan stamped her right foot, propelling a bark of laughter from me. My grin and patent amusement prodded her temper. “You can’t stay with him. Can’t you see he’s using you? You’re easy sex for him.”
“That’s enough,” Isaac snapped.
I squeezed his forearm, and he subsided with a dark mutter. “Susan, contrary to your beliefs, I am an adult. I do know what I’m doing,” a little devil made me add. “And believe me, there’s nothing easy about the sex between Isaac and me.”
Isaac laughed, and Susan whirled on him. “Is that why you broke up with me? Because of Mum. Was she the other woman you couldn’t stop thinking about? The woman you loved?”
Isaac tensed.
Both Susan and I observed him closely.
“I love Sophie. And I’m not about to apologize for it.” But he wouldn’t meet my eye. He looked discomforted.
He’d been attracted to me way back then? Food for thought.
“You want a mother,” Susan scoffed.
I didn’t believe that for a minute. The sex between us was too hot. Mutually fulfilling. We made love. We were equals. No way did I mother him.
The age difference meant nothing.
Time to take a stand. “Susan, I love Isaac. I intend to stay with him, and nothing you can say will change my mind. I’ve never been so happy.”
“But what about grandchildren,” Susan wailed. “You’re so far away!”
I stared in shock. My daughter was a selfish brat. “Coolangatta is a three hour flight from Auckland. I’m hardly on the other side of the world.” Hmm. Children with Isaac. I hadn’t thought about that…
Isaac brushed a kiss across my cheek, and I frowned at Susan. I wanted to drag Isaac off to bed and could hardly do it with Susan here.
“I’m pregnant,” Susan blurted. She scowled at Isaac. “You’ll be a grandfather, but you’ll never be a father!”
“Congratulations, Susan.” I kept my tone even, but my daughter was embarrassing me. She couldn’t talk to Isaac like that. “Isaac and I will have children if and when we decide. Our relationship is none of your business. Get used to it. Is Michael here?”
Susan nodded miserably, her shoulders slumping. “He told me not to come.”
“You should have listened to him,” I said in a mild tone. “Where are you staying? Isaac and I will meet you for dinner tonight. We’ll celebrate your good news.” I glanced at Isaac and received a smile and a nod of acquiescence. My heart started to race when his gaze stroked across my lips.
“Paradise Grove,” Susan said, this time a trifle diffidently.
“Good, we’ll pick you up at six. See you and Michael later.” I practically shoved my daughter out the door.
Isaac cupped my face between his hands. “I love you, Sophie. You’ll marry me, won’t you?” Emotion and love shaded his words.
“Have you really loved me all that time?”
“Yeah. I thought about asking you out, but the age difference was too great back then. Now it’s not.”
I kissed the tip of his nose, excitement and love dancing through me like a spring tonic. “You’re a very wise man, Isaac Shepherd. Of course, I’ll marry you.”
“Aw, Sophie.” Isaac rubbed his forehead against mine. “I love you.” He paused, then grinned like a loon. “You do realize what your Uncle James is going to say, don’t you?”
I thought and came up blank. “What?”
Isaac chuckled and hugged me tightly. “That I’ve grabbed myself a granny.”
“Humph!” I mock scowled, feeling so happy I wanted to cry. “That would make you a granddad.”
Isaac’s expression was priceless.
I smirked.
Nothing better than having the last word.
Thank you for purchasing and downloading Summer Encounter. If you enjoyed this book, please remember to take a second to leave a review. Let me know your favorite parts.
Have you read my other contemporary romances? Please turn the page to read an excerpt from One Night of Misbehavior, a Cinderella romance set in New Zealand and Playing to Win, a romantic suspense. Keep up with new books in the series by joining my newsletter or visiting my website.
Happy reading!
Shelley xx
Excerpt – One Night of Misbehavior
“Charlotte Joanna Dixon!” A shrill voice—her stepmother’s—hacked through Charlotte’s Saturday morning lie-in and intensified the boom, boom, boom of her aching head. “Of all the mornings for you to sleep late,” Elizabeth screeched. “Didn’t you set your alarm clock? I have to meet the fundraising committee in an hour.” The sharp accusations kept coming, accompanied by a thunk on her bedroom door.
Charlotte stared up at the damp spot on her bedroom ceiling and started silently counting to ten. One. Two. Three. Snippets of music, memories of a sexy masculine form crept into her mind, and her count faltered. Last night she’d experienced the dizzy taste of freedom and now the thought of her normal routine rubbed like a raw blister. Her mouth settled into a mutinous line. Maybe she’d stay here all day.
“Charlotte!” Doors slammed. The water pipes in the old Victorian groaned as they gave up water for the shower. “Hurry up.”
Or not. Sighing, Charlotte scrambled into jeans and a T-shirt and trudged down the sweeping stairs to the kitchen. On automatic pilot, she started the coffeemaker then filled the jug to boil for Gran’s tea. While
she waited, she trotted outside to grab the early morning post from the mailbox.
Soon the scent of fresh coffee flooded the kitchen, making her stomach lurch in protest. Maybe the last glass of Champagne hadn’t been the best idea. Gritting her teeth, she set the breakfast table, then swallowed down two headache tablets and assembled a tea tray for her grandmother. When she carried the tray and three letters upstairs, she found her grandmother was already awake, perusing one of the new craft magazines she’d had Charlotte purchase for her the previous day.
“Morning, Gran. How are you feeling? You have mail from your friends.”
“Charlotte.” Gran put down the magazine and peered over her glasses. Her blonde curls were already brushed into submission and a pale pink lipstick gave her face a touch of color. She cocked her head in Charlotte’s direction like an inquisitive bird. “You were late home. Tell me about the ball.”
“Shush, someone will hear.” Heat suffused Charlotte’s cheeks as memories of the previous evening rose to thump her over the head—seductive music, dancing, glasses of tickly Champagne. Many glasses of crisp, fruity Champagne. And Zorro.
Her entire evening summed up in a few words. She’d let a tall, masked man seduce her with his charisma and endless glasses of Champagne. The night of freedom had gone to her head along with the alcoholic buzz, and for one night, the mysterious and very sexy Zorro had shoved her loneliness aside. Unsteady hands poured tea for her grandmother. After adding a touch of milk, she handed over the cup and saucer.
“I danced so much my feet are sore,” she said, opting for a partial truth. She did have a blister on her little toe.
“Good. Did you see Elizabeth at the ball? What about Jenny and Rachel?”
Charlotte plopped on the end of Gran’s bed and nodded cautiously. The pain was muted now, the tablets working their magic. “They seemed to enjoy the ball. Everyone danced all night. The band was excellent.”
Gran’s faded blue eyes twinkled behind the lenses of her glasses. “Did they recognize you?”
“They didn’t glance at me twice.”
“I told you so.” Her grandmother’s gaze zeroed in on her neck.
Charlotte recalled the addictive kisses Zorro had trailed down her throat, the sensual bite and suck, and groaned inwardly. Kisses plus suction equaled one thing. Hickeys.
“Did you meet someone special?”
“No,” Charlotte said quickly. Too quickly.
“I see.”
Charlotte was glad someone saw because she didn’t understand her actions of the previous night. Yes, she’d had too much Champagne, but she’d known what she was doing. No one had forced her to kiss Zorro or to run her hands down his naked chest. Heck, no one had forced her to scream with the pleasure of her orgasm either. It was as if an alien had taken possession of her—one who enjoyed the heck out of sex.
“I think I’ll go down to breakfast this morning,” Gran said unexpectedly. “I want to hear about the ball.”
“I’ll help you dress.”
“There’s a tube of concealer in my dressing table drawer,” Gran said. “Perhaps you should apply some to your neck while I’m taking a shower. You don’t want Elizabeth asking embarrassing questions.”
Purchase One Night of Misbehavior
Excerpt – Playing to Win
Kate jerked the door open. “Jamie, what…?” Her words trailed off when she came face-to-face with a stranger. Tall, he loomed over her, his dark hair and tetchy expression reminding her of a thundercloud. Admittedly a very sexy one. She gaped at the enigmatic man trying to read him, for some unknown reason fascinated with learning what had ruffled his day. “Can I help you?”
The impassive mask slipped momentarily and she read the flush of displeasure high on his cheekbones, in his glittering eyes. Tightly leashed emotion radiated from him in waves and alarm seeped through her. Kate shifted uneasily before common sense told her to stop being stupid. Help was a call away. Still, as his broad shoulders angled closer, she inched backward, pleased Adam was still here. Her slow retreat didn’t go unnoticed. The hard planes of the man’s face tightened and he observed her closely like a predator stalking prey. Pewter-gray eyes fixed her with cool speculation then, just like a light switching off, his face blanked.
Her skin tingled under the scrutiny and, to her chagrin, the sensation wasn’t entirely nerves. The sexy thundercloud thing. She shuffled her feet again, barely resisting the urge to check the buttons on her cream blouse were correctly fastened. Adam would make an appearance soon. She hoped. Heck, if she reacted to a grumpy stranger like this, celibacy was definitely doing something weird to her hormones. Dark, rich chocolate had worked as a sexual substitute in the past. She’d grab a chocolate bar from the pantry the minute the man left.
Kate conducted a quick, edgy survey of her own. He appeared well groomed, wearing an expensive suit that probably cost more than she earned in a month. She was positive she’d never seen him before. The man would make a lasting impression with most people. He bore an innate charisma, not traditionally handsome or striking like Adam, but intensely masculine. His powerful build coupled with strong, dark features demanded attention, but it was the mesmerizing gray eyes surrounded by lush lashes that would make a woman take a second look. And long to run her fingers through his silky hair. Her survey swept his body from top to bottom and back again.
Oops. Her mouth dropped open when her gaze collided with a cool gray one. Piercing eyes shot salvos of exasperation at her, as if he were impatient to complete an unpleasant chore. Kate racked her brain trying to work out why he was here demanding entrance, wrinkling her brow in concentration. Maybe he had the wrong house?
“Katherine Alexander?” he drawled.
Kate’s heart sank. Not the wrong house after all. And why would it be? Everything about him radiated self-assurance. For a brief moment, she considered shutting the door in his arrogant face, but a speculative glance at the muscled shoulders filling out his charcoal-colored designer suit changed her mind. Not a viable option. Kate sensed he didn’t intend to leave until he’d gained exactly what he wanted. Whatever that was.
“I’m Kate Alexander,” she admitted with a touch of caution.
His brows rose and she could have sworn she’d surprised him, but of course, he recovered quickly. “Can I come in?” he asked, moving toward her as he made his request.
Kate planted her size six feet in the middle of her doorway and stood her ground. She wanted information first, before she let him inside. A name would make a good start. Men who used their superior strength to pummel whatever they wanted from life didn’t win points with her. With Steve, her ex-fiancé, she had accepted it as normal, but no longer. No one pushed her around.
“Will I be able to stop you?” she asked in pointed reference to his muscular bulk bearing down on her. He pulled up short. A brief spurt of puzzlement sprinted over his tanned face, his dark brows drawing together in a frown. Kate watched with fascination when a faint wash of embarrassment appeared high on his cheekbones. Not so uncivilized after all.
“Sorry,” he muttered, stepping back.
Kate exhaled in satisfaction, feeling she’d wrested back control of sorts. “Your name?”
Discomfort faded from his face, his eyes narrowed into a withering glare. “So that’s how you’re going to play it? Deny you know me and protest your innocence?”
“But I don’t know you.”
His mouth opened as if he intended to fire a further volley, but the shriek of car brakes at the end of Kate’s driveway drew their attention. A dark blue sedan fishtailed to a stop at the curb, the stench of rubber heavy in the air.
The man standing beside her stiffened noticeably. He dragged a hand through his short dark hair and spat out a pithy curse. “Hell, I thought I’d beat the vultures.”
Kate didn’t need to pretend confusion. She darted a glance at the stranger and decided from the ominous look on his face he knew exactly what was happening. She wished he’d enlighten
her. Like a film extra caught in the wrong movie scene, she felt utterly bewildered.
An electric window wound down with a distinctive whine. Goodness! Was that a camera pointing at her? She blinked and looked again. It was.
“Inside,” the man snapped. “Before they get a photo.”
Kate blocked the doorway. Was he mad? She didn’t intend to let him inside. “No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
The photographer zoomed his lens in on them. Below the camera that covered most of his face, a slick smile bloomed as he feverishly clicked the shutter button.
Kate’s gaze snapped to the grim-faced man at her side. “Who are they? What are they doing?”
The stranger took two menacing steps toward the parked car. His sheer size was enough to strike fear, but Kate decided his scowling face set the seal on the photographer’s decision to retreat. He pulled his camera to safety and leaned forward to speak to the driver. His panicked words were loud enough to reach Kate.
“Got the shot. Hit it, man!”
Wheels spun and gravel sprayed when the sedan shot off, but once the vehicle was at a safe distance, the driver braked to a screeching halt. He stuck his blond head out the window, an insolent sneer distorting his mouth. “Thanks, Lane. Look for it tomorrow.”
The photographer gave a jaunty wave, a leer on his weasel-like face, and then the car sped away.
Kate stared after the departing vehicle, tongue-tied in astonishment. Hands clamped on her shoulders and propelled her into the coolness of the foyer. The door slammed behind them, making her realize they were alone. A pregnant silence hummed between them, highlighting several things, including the fact she hadn’t been out on a date for ages. Kate gulped, averted her gaze before peeking at him again. Oh yeah. She needed that chocolate. The mystery man’s tanned face remained expressionless apart from his eyes. They smoldered with suppressed tension.
Summer Encounter Page 4