One Steamed Night

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One Steamed Night Page 1

by Lara Nance




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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  One Steamed Night

  Copyright © 2014 by Lara Nance

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-656-4

  Cover art by Fiona Jayde

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

  Look for us online at:

  www.decadentpublishing.com/

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  One Steamed Night

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  Lara Nance

  Chapter One

  “Take your hand off me, you jerk.” Mina slapped the beefy fingers groping her ass. She’d known coming there had been a mistake. Anger and frustration burned in her chest.

  “Come on, baby, let me buy you a drink and make up.” The dark-haired man breathed bourbon-soured breath in her face. Half-lidded glazed eyes further accented his sloppy, amorous attempt. He kept one hand on the polished mahogany bar for support as the other reached for her backside again.

  “Eww.” She planted a palm on his chest and shoved. “Get lost, creep.”

  Releasing his hold on the bar, he stumbled backward. After bumping into a waitress and two other patrons, he frowned and headed in another direction. The bartender shot him a disgusted look then gave her and her friend, Regina, a sympathetic half smile and shrugged.

  Mina let out a breath of relief. “That’s it, Reg. I’m getting out of here. I told you I didn’t want to come to another bar, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  “That guy was just a drunk. Don’t leave. I’m sure there are men here worth meeting.” Reg reached across the bar top and rested a hand on her wrist. Brushing long, blonde hair behind an ear, she leaned close. “I know how you feel, but you can’t stay locked up in your apartment forever.”

  Mina shook her head and grabbed her coat from the back of her bar stool. “No more. I can’t take this crap.”

  Regina bit her bottom lip and scooped up her own jacket, then followed Mina outside. “It’s only because you’ve had some bad experiences recently. But you can’t give up. How else are you going to meet someone?”

  She bit back a comment about not caring if she ever met anyone, and waved an arm for a cab. Her face burned despite the cool night air. Yes, having a date try to slip Ecstasy in her drink, and another rip her clothes off in an elevator within the last two months, had been bad experiences. That had been topped by discovering the perfectly respectable-looking man she’d met at a political fundraiser two weeks earlier turned out to be a pedophile. Imagine the shock of seeing his mug shot on the news the day before she’d planned to meet him for a dinner date. After all that, every time a man touched her, she froze. Her libido fled to some arctic region where it waited to be seduced by a worthy flame.

  “I can’t do the bar-dating scene anymore.” She stepped from the curb and opened the taxi door. “What happened to romance and gentlemen? I’m tired of meeting jerks who act like you owe them something because they bought you a drink. I’d rather be by myself, watching a movie, with a glass of red wine.”

  Regina slipped into the backseat beside her. “You just haven’t met the right guy yet. I know you don’t want to be alone.”

  She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “No, I don’t. But I’m beginning to believe what I want doesn’t exist.”

  Her friend stared with big blue eyes. “What do you want, Mina? Prince Charming? Seriously, you were born in the wrong century.”

  “I want to be swept off my feet. I want to be wooed. I want a man who can fight pirates with a sword, and then whisk me away to glide across a marble-floored ballroom.” She blinked, staring out the window. Maybe she had been born in the wrong time. Am I hopeless?

  Regina snorted. “You’ve watched too many old Errol Flynn movies, and Jane Austin isn’t the only author out there.”

  “Maybe so. But I’m not going to settle for a desperate drunk in a cheap suit trying to feel me up in a bar. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for some manners and manly dignity.”

  Reg remained silent for a few moments as the taxi bounced over ever-present potholes in the city streets. Lights glittered red, white and yellow along the busy road. Late night pedestrians hurried across sidewalks laughing and couples held hands with arms wrapped around each other. Lucky people who’d already found a partner.

  Regina broke the stretch of quiet. “I’ve got an idea. Saturday’s your birthday, and you need a change. My friend, Gillian, invited me to a Renaissance Fair that’s going on upstate this weekend. Why don’t you go with us? She’s all hot for knights, and is dating a guy who plays one at the fair. Maybe that could be your thing. He might have a friend.”

  “Medieval isn’t my thing. I’m pretty sure about that.” Mina yawned. “Besides, that’s all pretend. Those guys are probably drunk jerks when they take off the armor, and go to a bar after the show.” And grope fair maidens.

  “You’re hopeless. You’ll never get laid staying locked up in your apartment.”

  Her heart sank. Regina was right. Mina had become so scared of trusting men in the contemporary dating scene, she didn’t know how to overcome her prejudices. Of course, she wanted to have sex and develop a relationship. But not with a man who blew his sour bourbon breath in her face and couldn’t stand up without holding onto a bar. Or a suave man who turned out to be a child molester.

  The taxi pulled to a stop in front of her apartment building. Handing the driver some bills, she reached for the door handle.

  “Wait.” Reg clutched her upper arm. “I may have a solution for you. Would you be willing to give a guy a chance if he treated you the way you want? Would that help show you all men aren’t losers?”

  “Of course I would. I’d love to be swept off my feet in the proper manner. But how do I find that man? He’s not in a bar in Manhattan. And going back in time to Victorian England isn’t an option.”

  Regina’s face morphed into a crafty grin. “What if it was? Would you go for it? Have a wild and crazy night with a romantic gentleman who wooed you, then dueled with bad guys to protect you?”

 
A vision of swords flashing, and long, flowing gowns, sped across her mind and a smile tugged at her lips. “Oh, yeah, are you kidding? I’d go for that.”

  “No. I’m not kidding.” Regina released her. “Go home. I’m going to work on a surprise.”

  Mina stood on the sidewalk and watched the cab roar away. A surprise? What did Reg have in mind? A giggle bubbled from her throat. Her bestie was a movie producer. Maybe she’d rent a set from some swashbuckling epic and hire an actor to play the role of suitor. Mina wouldn’t put it past her. Amazingly, the idea of such a scenario actually intrigued her. Maybe playing a role was what she needed to awaken her passion.

  ***

  “Mina?” Regina’s excited voice chirped over her cell phone.

  Mina gulped down a drink of coffee, planning her usual Saturday grocery run after breakfast. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  A tingle of apprehension swept through her and she placed her mug on the counter. What is she up to now?

  “Do you trust me?” Regina asked when she didn’t reply.

  She wiped at a spot of spilled coffee with a dish towel. “Hmm, sometimes.”

  “Come on. You have to trust me. Aren’t I your best friend?” Her giggle made Mina nervous.

  After a pause, she had to laugh. “Yes, you are. What’s the surprise?”

  “Remember me mentioning my friend, Gillian?”

  “The one who likes hunky knights?” She draped the towel over the stove handle.

  “That’s the one. She’s an author. Writes historical romance novels about medieval damsels in distress, or some such thing. Anyway, she told me about a company that set her up with her current boyfriend in a fantasy one-night stand. He’s a knight and she played the damsel in a real medieval setting. It’s a high-end match-making service.”

  What the hell was Regina smoking? “Does this company own a time machine?”

  “No. I’m serious. The company is owned by a woman, Madame Evangeline, who sets up people on a one-night stand of their dreams. It’s expensive, but way worth it. Gillian says it the most amazing experience she’s ever had.”

  “What does that have to do with my surprise?” A buzz somewhere between fear and curiosity raised goose bumps on her skin. She already knew the answer.

  “I’ve set you up on a one-night stand. I gave Madame Eve all the details of your fantasy needs. You’ll have the gentleman hero who’ll woo and seduce to your heart’s content. This will be my birthday present to you.”

  She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Leave it to Regina to come up with a crazy scheme like that.

  “Mina?” she asked, impatience shading her voice.

  “I’m here. Just trying to figure out why you thought I’d ever consent to being set up with a gigolo. Are you nuts?” She ran her fingers through her hair, forgetting all about her grocery list.

  “It’s not like that. It’s a date, but on your terms. If you don’t want to have sex, you don’t have to. They check out every person scrupulously, so there are no whackos. I promise you, it’s perfectly safe. You’ll be in complete control.” Regina sounded a little hurt. “I thought this was what you wanted. I went to a lot of trouble to arrange it on such short notice.”

  “Why? When is it?” Panic shot through her.

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “What?” Mina stumbled back against the kitchen counter, her hip hitting hard enough to send the coffee mug clattering into the sink and breaking.

  “Madame Eve had an envelope containing instructions delivered to your apartment early this morning,” said Regina. “You’ll need to be on a private jet by four to make the date.”

  “There’s been no delivery.” Her mind whirled. Was this some crazy dream? Surely Reg was joking.

  “She said it would be slipped under your door. Go check.”

  After taking a moment to steady her knees, she made her way through the living room to the foyer. A thick white, legal-sized envelope waited on the floor in front of her door. Damn. It’s true. She bent to retrieve it and returned to the living room.

  “Is it there?” Regina asked, her voice anxious.

  Mina sank to the couch, clutching the missive. “Yes. Now what? You can’t expect me to drop everything and fly off on somebody’s jet to a mystery date with a strange man.”

  “Oh, yes. I do expect that.” Regina’s voice held the same determined tone she used with directors over budget and behind on their production. “I paid a huge chunk of money for you to have the experience of your dreams. You told me when we went to the bar Tuesday night you’d give a guy a chance if he treated you the way you want. You haven’t had sex in like a year. This is exactly what you need to get over your phobia and have a life.”

  “But a one-night stand? That’s not what I want either.” She worked a finger under the envelope’s flap and peeled it open. Inside rested a simple letter on cream linen paper.

  Dear Ms. Davis,

  I’m so pleased you’ll be able to experience the night of your dreams provided by 1Night Stand. My company offers individuals an evening to remember for a lifetime, with an opportunity to live a dream come true.

  I can assure you that I have personally selected every amenity to provide for your utmost enjoyment of this special evening. All you have to do is relax and indulge.

  A chauffeur will pick you up at your apartment at four p.m. and take you to the airport to meet a private jet. From there you’ll fly to London and check into the Castillo Grosvenor Resort Hotel.

  Sunday evening you’ll experience your heart’s desire to be swept off your feet in an exclusive 1Night Stand encounter. All details are planned to meet your expectations and more. You will return to New York the following day.

  Enjoy your evening, and may your wishes be granted.

  Best,

  Madame Evangeline

  1Night Stand

  “I can’t do this.” She flipped through the rest of the envelope’s contents; a brochure of the resort showed enticing pictures of luxury amenities, an agreement for the services needing her signature, and an explanation of the safeguards in place to protect the comfort and anonymity of the participants. Impressive. This date must have set Regina back a huge chunk of change.

  Regina broke into her thoughts. “This is what you wanted. You’re doing it, or we will never be friends again.”

  “But I need time to think. You can’t end our friendship over this.”

  “I know, but it’s a good threat.” Regina snorted. “You think too much. Just get on that plane and go to London. Be wild. How can you say you want a swashbuckling man when you’re afraid of a little adventure?”

  Mina tossed the envelope and its contents on the coffee table. A tingle of excitement replaced the shiver of apprehension running through her. The adventure appealed to her. Could she really engage in something so unexpected and indulgent?

  Regina interrupted her thoughts again. “I can tell you’re thinking. Stop it. Pack your bags and make that plane. You won’t be sorry. If you are, I’ll let you have that vintage Chanel suit you always wanted.”

  Mina blinked. She’d kill for that suit. No amount of money had tempted Reg to sell it to her before. “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely. From checking around, I’m convinced this Madame Eve delivers what she promises. It’s an exclusive matching service, not some trumped up, escort deal. You’ll have a blast.”

  She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. Did she dare? Meeting men the conventional way wasn’t working. She needed to have her dream encounter more than even Regina knew.

  “Okay. I’ll do it. But have that suit cleaned and ready to go in case this scheme is a bust. I’m holding you to that offer.”

  Regina let out a whoop. “That’s my girl. Have the time of your life. I can’t wait to hear the details.”

  Chapter Two

  Stars sparkled in a pre-dawn sky when Mina stepped from a black cab. The imposing façade of the Castillo Gro
svenor Resort Hotel rose before her, its marble columns marching along the front of the building, flanking a sweeping marble staircase, with red carpet running up the steps between polished brass handrails.

  Her heart fluttered. The building exuded Old World romance. Charming. The doubts plaguing her on her transatlantic flight receded a bit. Maybe she’d have an exciting adventure after all.

  She checked in, soaking up the rich ambiance of the high ceilinged lobby with its burgundy velvet Queen Anne furniture, and crystal chandeliers. Carrying her bags, a bellman led her to her room on the fifth floor.

  “Here it is, ma’am. Enjoy your stay.” He winked and set her luggage in front of the door. Without waiting for a tip, he hurried away.

  Folding the euros she’d had ready into her pocket, she stared after him. Strange behavior for a bellman in a luxury hotel. She pushed open the door, entered the room then froze. This is a room in a five-star resort? Wood planks covered the walls and floor. Only small round windows allowed a view of outside. Fortunately, the bed was nice. A canopied affair of dark carved wood, its mattress covered by a navy velvet comforter, and stacked with fluffy pillows.

  Dropping her bags, she closed the door. Had there been some mistake? It looked more like a rustic cabin than a fancy hotel room. She turned in a slow circle. A table constructed of unfinished wood sat across from the bed. Atop it sat a very modern, large flat screen TV. Strange.

  A brass cart beside the bed contained a collection of crystal liquor, wine decanters and glasses. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the thick carpet to a door that opened onto a bathroom, and stared inside at the type of setting she’d imagined; a spotless white tile floor and marble sink, with a huge claw-foot tub that took up one whole wall. Thick towels on brass rods and a toilet-bidet combo completed the plush bathing room. That’s more like it.

  She wandered back into the bedroom and glanced around again, perplexed. Why would a hotel have a room like this? Did it have anything to do with her fantasy one-night stand? She glanced at her watch. Two a.m. New York time. Seven a.m. London time. She yawned. Time for a nap.

 

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