by Hart, Alana
She saw Riley suppressing a laugh. Striker looked furious. "I think you're bluffing."
"How nice for you. You're free to call my bluff by buying Craig's stock."
"What other option do I have?"
"Buy me out right now at the same price per share you paid Thom. And by now, I mean this morning."
Craig looked shocked. "What about the company?"
Megan smiled. "The company you don't give a shit about? Fuck the company. I'll sell it to Bill, and you and Lenora get what you seem to want."
Striker didn't smile, but he did take out a check book. With a dark look at Lenora, he began writing.
* * * *
She knocked on the door sharply, determinedly. When he open the door, she strode purposely into the hotel room walking purposefully and sat on the bed, putting her briefcase on it next to her. Sal closed the door, then stood there watching her uncertainly. "Where are we, Megan?" It was a good question. The only question that really mattered. She noted that he didn't ask about the business, what she'd decided to do with his money. He'd focused on his one concern—how she felt about them.
"We are in business together."
"So I own part of your company now?"
She laughed. "No, I sold out. I spent all your money, though."
"On what?" It was fun seeing him shocked by trying to look casual.
"On another company. Do you happen to know anything about turtle food?"
"Not really."
"That's okay because the company you and I own is the majority stockholder in an elegant design company in Milan, one you were interested in."
"What does this mean?"
"Well, beyond the fact that I have to sell my apartment so we can go to Italy and whip our new firm into shape, I'm not entirely sure. I hope it means I'll keep you from disappearing again. But then when are we ever entirely sure about anything?"
"But…"
She patted the bed. "Come sit down, Sal. We’ve got a lot to talk about, you and I. Things to catch up on." He drew himself up and approached her, sending a wildfire of familiar emotions raging in her. As he came close enough to feel his presence, as he put his hand on her shoulder, and she felt his firm grip, she knew that they weren't going to do much talking, not yet. His hand slid down to caress her breast. He stood still, and she knew he could feel her beating heart. He took her chin in his other hand and tilted her face up toward his to look at him. She stared into that face, her eyes open wide, seeing Sal. And when he bent to kiss her, it set her on fire. She reached for him, putting her palm on his chest, then sliding it down his body toward the heat of his crotch. "It's time to see if we can rekindle some old fires, Sal."
"Fires that never went completely out."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sal and Megan were married her in a civil service in Milan. Despite being surrounded by romantic churches with all sorts of romantic atmosphere, this had been her choice, exactly what she wanted. He insisted on being married, and she insisted on making it a simple ceremony.
As far as she was concerned, they'd joined their futures together long ago; this was just doing the paperwork. At her request, they told only a few people, but somehow Riley found out and showed up, demanding to either be the best man or being allowed to give away the bride. Sal opted to let him be the best man. After the ceremony, they stood together on the steps of the building, and she knew she'd never been happier.
"I'm taking you two to dinner," Riley told them. "It's an ancient Milan custom that I just invented for the best man to take the bride and groom to dinner." He'd made reservations and treated them to a lovely meal on the piazza of a top restaurant. After dinner, he handed Megan a package. "It's for both of you."
Curious, she opened it and found a bronze plaque that said: Never Forgotten.
Sal laughed. "What exactly does that mean? To you, Riley."
Riley grinned. "A man can compete for the hand of a lady against other men, but when a man lives up to powerful memories of him, he is formidable. Before you returned from your remote kingdom, Megan told me about you. I asked questions that might tell me if she was over you." He pointed to the plaque. "This is what I learned. Never forgotten."
"You are a gracious man, Riley."
"No. I am evilly clever and Machiavellian. See, since I am pretending to be all kind and generous, I won't be forgotten either…just in case you ever screw up this relationship up."
"Okay, then you are terrible and wonderful at the same time."
"Guilty, I'm sure."
As they left the restaurant, Sal turned to Riley. "I wasn't sure how I felt when you turned up this way, but I'm glad you did. Now, what's next for you? Are you just off wandering? I thought you didn't enjoy it alone?"
His grin was bright. "Well, I thought I'd go to England for a visit. I was thinking of checking out a potential traveling companion."
She grinned at him. "Someone I know?"
"There is a woman there named Carla that asked me to drop in on her if I was in the neighborhood."
Sal beamed. "Watch your step, Riley. That one is almost as dangerous as this one."
Riley rubbed his hand together gleefully. "I can't tell you how wonderful and exciting that sounds. Do you think she likes vacations?"
Sal slapped him on the back. "She certainly spent a lot of time trying to get me to take her to the Caribbean. Somehow we never made it."
Riley beamed. "Yes!"
Before they got in the cab, Megan kissed Riley good night. "Stay in touch."
The cab pulled away taking them to their house outside Milan, and Sal put his hand on Megan's knee. She tingled as it crept up her leg. "Just how do you suppose Riley got Carla's address in London?" he asked her.
She sighed and opened her legs as his hand slipped up her skirt. "Who knows? Maybe a friend who thinks she owes her a lot arranged it."
"Would that be the same old friend who made sure Carla got shares in Turtle?"
"She deserved them."
"No argument there. Is this the same friend who was very recently married and is now heading home to get screwed until she can't walk?"
His fingers slipped under the crotch of her panties. She gasped with pleasure at the heat of his touch, then saw the cab driver's wide-eyed face reflected in the rear view mirror and laughed. "That's probably the one. I hope it is, but I guess we won't know for sure until tomorrow morning, will we?"
As the lights of Milan went by in a blur, Megan let herself accept that all this was real. She was in Italy, married to Sal and about to be ravished by him. This was exactly what the plaque Riley had given them meant to her.
Never Forgotten.
THE END
About the Authors
Alana Hart
Alana Hart is an American romance writer who decided that writing with friends is better than writing alone. Hartfelt Books brings together a huge group of sweet and steamy romance authors, collaborating on a new line of books that will have your heart pounding.
When she’s not skyping and sharing her latest collaboration on googledocs, she’s typing away in her local coffee shop with a hot chocolate, complete with marshmallows and extra whipped cream, on hand. She claims it makes her happy ever afters that much sweeter!
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Marlena Dark
Marlena Dark writes to understand emotions, relationships and all the things that go into be
ing human, whether that means digging into the good and bad, light and dark, or optimistic and cynical parts of our nature. She plays one set against another, enjoying the drama, the conflict that arises.
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Romance collaborations from the Hart
Also in the SECOND CHANCES series.
The Swap by Alana Hart & Alana Claire -- http://www.amazon.com/dp/B014RGHB8Q
Kiss me Again by Alana Hart & Emilia Beaumont -- http://www.amazon.com/dp/B014U3NAB8
Taken In by the Pack by Alana Hart & Jazzmyn Wolfe -- www.amazon.com/gp/product/B014XKQ2YK
Keep reading for an exciting excerpt from another book in the Alana Hart collaborations series.
Back Where We Belong
by Alana Hart & Caia Fox
A love destroyed. A life in ruins.
How can there ever be a second chance for us?
I wonder what a walk along the beach entails. It's midnight. We're not going to be building sandcastles.
“Are you cold?”
“No.”
“You're shivering a bit. This car has a heater. It might even work.”
He adjusts the controls and warm air blasts out. “Polar to tropical at the touch of a button.”
I laugh. “Every modern convenience.”
“And even air conditioning,” he says, and winks, winding down his window and then winding it back up.
We're almost there. I wish the drive was longer. I feel safe with Luke in a moving car, but we're at the beach in no time at all and getting out. He puts his arm around me and draws me to him. He kisses me gently, just a touch of his lips on mine, twice, butterfly-light kisses.
“You look like you're worried I'm about to eat you up,” he says. “I can just take you home if you like.”
I don't want him to take me home. “Let's walk on the beach. It's a nice night.”
A nice night? Is that all I can say? Crap.
He holds my hand and we walk along the sand. I feel the cool grains between my toes where my sandals kick up the sand. The waves are slow, lapping the beach then receding in an endless rhythm.
“Do you like living here?” I ask.
“I like living by the sea. But there are four kids between five and seventeen, plus me and Mom and Dad at home. We're living on top of each other all the time. In summer there’s not even any school. It's like a zoo at times.”
“It does sound like chaos. But it's better than when there's just you.”
“You're an only child then?”
“Yes, I'm not sure if they only wanted one or couldn't have any more children. I think I put them off having any more. I expect I got in the way of Dad's work and Mom's social life.”
“You're looking sad again. We can't have that. I like it better when you laugh.” He squeezes my hand.
“Race you to that rock” He points to a dark jagged mass jutting out from the sea onto the beach about three hundred yards away. “Ready? One...two...three.”
He takes off, and I run after him. We tumble onto the cold sand when we reach the rock, out of breath and laughing.
“That's better.” He looks at me in that intense way he has and he kisses me, his lips soft at first and then more insistent, his hands holding me, pressing me so close to him that I'm sure he'll feel my heart thud against his chest through our clothes. I can't help responding to the feeling of his lips on mine, the gentle probing of his tongue, his hard body, and I open my mouth to him and kiss him right back, the sound of the waves in the soft night air providing the perfect backdrop for that kiss.
“Much better,” he says gently, kissing my nose when we finally part, a little breathless.
We lean against the rock. There's no one on the beach. It's like our own private space. The sky is pitch black. A few stars are out, but there's no moon.
Buy “Back Where We Belong” now at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B015AKY8S4
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
ROMANCE COLLABORATIONS