by Nicola Marsh
“Too much information.”
Sierra leaped off the bed before Flo could go into detail about what drooped or how wrinkled her bits were. “William should be here any second, I better go.”
Flo glanced at her watch and paled. “I’m too old for this shite,” she said, fidgeting with her cuffs as she took a final look in the mirror.
“You’ll be fine.” Sierra hugged her before giving her a gentle shove in the direction of the door. “Go get him.”
She grinned as Flo muttered a few expletives as she exited the bedroom, prepared to bring her man to his knees.
Then it was her turn.
Marc wouldn’t know what hit him.
I don’t frigging believe this.
Marc stared at his cell phone and wondered if he was hearing things. He could’ve sworn the person on the other end sounded like Jeff Rodgers from the LA Times, the same Jeff Rodgers who had nothing better to do than badger him for the inside scoop on his rivalry with George.
“Marc? Can you confirm you’re in Love?”
Damn, how did the vulture get wind of his whereabouts? He could deny it but knew better. If the bloodhound reporter picked up on his deliberate evasiveness God only knew what he’d print in tomorrow’s paper.
In a few days Marc would’ve been back in LA and his mom would’ve been safe from possible scandal. Now he better tread carefully if he wanted to avoid a full-page spread on her whereabouts—and why.
“You have interesting sources, Jeff. I’m taking a break from LA for a while, that’s all.”
True to form, Jeff wouldn’t be deterred.
“That doesn’t answer my question. I hear you’re in Love. Care to elaborate?”
For once in his life Marc was grateful he’d taken lessons from George, the master of evasion.
“A-Corp is flourishing. A busy man like you would understand what it’s like being under pressure. A guy needs a break occasionally so that’s what I’m doing. Taking time out. Getting away from my desk, trying to get a new perspective on things.”
To his surprise, Jeff chuckled. “Okay, I’ll let you off answering my first question if you answer my next. What are you really doing there?”
Didn’t this guy ever give up? From past experience, never.
Marc forced a fake chuckle. “Thought I’d answered that one too.”
“Give me a break. You never take time out from A-Corp, especially when my sources tell me you’re on the verge of taking over top spot in California. What gives?”
Jeff paused and Marc knew what was coming next. His usual tag: “If you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll have to make it up.”
The more Jeff meddled, the more headaches for him. The nosy reporter wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than the truth.
Dammit, he’d have to give Jeff some snippet to keep him happy and off the trail of the real reason he was here.
“You’re onto me. Businessmen like me can’t take a break for long so I’ve been doing some work here.” Partially the truth. He had been working, slotted between spending time with his mom and Sierra, the two most important reasons why he’d stuck around.
Not that Sierra had been part of the equation at the start. Now that his stay was drawing to a close it was time to make a few decisions regarding his future.
Walking away would be the easy option but since when had he ever done easy?
He hoped she’d want to maintain a casual relationship, two grown ups who enjoyed each other’s company, happy to catch up on occasion without the hassle of having to answer to each other for every little thing. She struck him as fiercely independent and proud of it, so he didn’t see a problem with her agreeing to his way of thinking.
If she wanted anything more…well, one step at a time.
“I knew it. Working on anything in particular? Anyone needs to worry you’re about to nab their company?”
He grimaced, Jeff’s question hitting a little too close to home.
“No, just the usual stuff. Now I really have to go.”
“Anything else you want to add for the record?”
He didn’t like Jeff’s tone. The reporter sounded like a man who hadn’t been appeased by his answers. Though what could he invent this time? He’d reiterated his time away was business focused. Jeff would assume he was assessing companies to acquire and that would be the end of it.
“No, nothing to add.”
“Thanks for your time. And be sure to read the Times tomorrow.”
“Shall do.”
Like hell. He’d grown tired of reading Jeff’s lies and half-truths so he didn’t bother these days. Besides, he hardly had time to read the Los Angeles Business Journal let alone the tabloids. Business was his first priority, always had been, always would be.
Though these days he had room for other stuff in his life, namely one curvy redhead.
“Slick, you ready?”
A series of short, sharp knocks—Sierra’s signature rap—at Marc’s door had him more than ready.
He opened the door, leaned against it. “Ready and raring.”
Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she stared pointedly at his groin.
“Raring?”
“For you, always.”
He kissed her, loving her responsive nature and the way her lips clung to his, prolonging the moment.
He’d never met a woman so affectionate, a woman so willing to give pleasure as well as receive it. She matched him in many ways, complemented him despite their opposing views on everything, and given half a chance he knew he could go all the way and fall for her.
Was he willing to take that chance? A huge risk-taker in business, could he follow through in his personal life this once?
“Looking forward to your first Love Fest?”
She slid her arms around his neck, nibbling at the tender skin under his jaw, making his libido sit up and howl. She’d discovered all his hot spots, exploring them in intimate detail, and the memory had him hard in an instant.
He pulled her flush against him, watching her eyes widen when she felt his hard-on.
“How about we have our very own private love fest right here?”
“You’re a bad boy.” She gyrated her hips slowly, rubbing against him until he groaned. “I like it.”
“What are we waiting for?”
She sighed and eased away. “I said I’d man Belle’s stall for half an hour and I’m due there now. Later?”
“Party pooper.”
He dropped a peck on her nose and slid her hand into his. “I’ll accept a rain check but only if you make it worth my while.”
“Have I disappointed you yet?”
“Not once.”
She tugged on his hand, the cheeky smile he’d grown so fond of playing around her glossed mouth. “Then you’ve got something to look forward to later. In the meantime, you get to see what Lovernians get up to when celebrating.”
“Sure this is going to be safe for me to witness? My sensibilities are quite delicate, you know.”
“Yeah, real delicate.”
She backed up and rubbed her cute little butt against his crotch. “You never do anything naughty.”
He slid his arms around her torso and hugged her tight, snuggling into her neck, allowing her subtle vanilla scent to infuse his senses. When he left he’d have to buy a bottle of the stuff so he could remember her smell and the way it clung to the sheets after they had sex.
“What do you think?”
She squealed as he nipped her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue until she purred.
“I think you’re one hell of a guy. For a city boy.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, sweet thing. Now, let’s go before I drag you inside and have my wicked way with you.”
“Mmm…hold that thought,” she said, her eyes glittering with promise as she turned and tapped him on the nose.
He did, hoping it would sustain him until they returned for another night of incredi
ble sex.
He only had two nights left in town and he intended to make them earth-shatteringly memorable.
When they reached the town square, Marc took one look at the kitschy chaos and groaned.
“Don’t you people ever get tired of the hearts and flowers crap?”
Sierra laughed and tugged on his hand, leaving him little option but to keep up with her eager steps. “It’s part of our charm. Thought you’d have worked that out by now.”
“But the over-the-top hearts thing? It’s so—”
“Romantic?” She fluttered her eyelashes.
“Tacky,” he said, laughing at her antics.
“Typical.” She turned up her nose and pretended to ignore him. Impossible, considering he looked like a jeans model. Denim did wicked things to his butt.
“You’re such a guy.”
“I thought that’s one of the things you liked about me.” His voice turned husky, leaving her in little doubt as to how manly he could be.
“There’s more to life than that.”
“Like this?”
He gestured toward the park and town square, converted into a giant fairground complete with rides, marquees, food stalls and the well-attended kissing booth.
When she’d first arrived in town as a kid she’d thought the weekend festival corny but it had grown over the last twenty years, the music changing from static PA-filtered Rolling Stones to smooth jazz played on a state of the art sound system, predictable corndogs, popcorn and candy floss replaced by sushi, Thai and spicy Malaysian satays, the tantalizing aromas of lemongrass and ginger thick in the air.
While the stalls had become more sophisticated too—massage oils, hand-made heart-shaped chocolates, ylang-ylang scented candles—the rides had stayed the same, with ponies and the ancient carousel firm favorites with the kids.
“Love Fest promotes romance. Builds dreams for people.”
“Dreams can turn into nightmares.”
His cynicism scared her. They hadn’t had The Talk, the one to make or break her dreams. Her live-life-for-the-moment motto had worked fine the last week and she’d been genuinely happy for the first time in ages.
But she’d fallen for Marc, fallen hard, and with every incredible moment they spent together there was no turning back.
Love fostered dependability, responsibility and reliability. Three valid reasons she’d avoided it.
Until now.
“You’re such a cynic.”
“You’re such a woman.”
“Cute and quick.” She chuckled as they entered the town square, the heart of the fairground. “You’re good, Slick, I’ll grant you that.”
“Good for you?”
Her heart twisted as their banter took a serious turn. As much as she wanted to have this conversation, now wasn’t the time or place. She had no clue what she wanted to say or hadn’t mentally rehearsed a thousand times. She needed to be prepared for a potentially life-changing conversation and fumbling for the right words in front of the Ferris wheel? Not good.
“What do you think?” She deliberately kept her tone light and flirty, while her lungs seized waiting for his response.
“I think we’re good together.”
She released a breath, unaware she’d been holding it. “Will we stay that way after you leave?”
The spark in his brown eyes gave her hope. “I want to talk to you about—”
“Not now.”
She silenced him with a finger to his lips, her heart hammering in her chest. “I want to talk to you too but we’re topic of the week for the Love grapevine, let’s not give them more fodder.”
“Have it your way.” He shrugged, as if being fobbed off didn’t mean anything, but she glimpsed the pensive gleam in his eyes and hoped he’d be ready to hear what she had to say when the time came. “But we need to talk. Soon.”
“Absolutely.”
Her solemn expression elicited a chuckle from him. “Tell me what the masses are saying about us.”
“You name it, we’ve done it.”
“Sounds intriguing. Are there whips and chains involved in the rumors?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and made a whip-cracking gesture.
She grabbed his hand. “There will be now.”
He laughed and squeezed her hand. “Come on, I see a kissing booth over there. Let’s give them something to really talk about.”
“Damn, speaking of booths, I forgot about Belle. I’m supposed to be relieving her for half an hour.”
“Where is she?”
“Over there.”
She pointed toward a crimson silk tent tucked behind the main stalls. As usual, the tame booths were given pride of place while the racy ones like Belle’s were hidden away.
Love Fest drew crowds from around the country, hopeful singles and contented couples alike, and with that in mind the younger population in town had pushed for a wider range of merchandise, booths and displays.
Singles searching for love flocked to the fortunetellers, the book displays featuring the latest bestsellers from the country’s top dating experts, and the aroma-therapist plying aphrodisiac essential oils guaranteed to help find your soul mate.
Couples pretended to skirt the adult DVD stalls while ducking into the racier booths, and families stuck to the video arcade games, the daily animal parade at dusk and the tamer rides.
Marc glanced around. “Lousy position. How does anyone find her way over there?”
Sierra bit back a grin. “If people want the stuff, they find her.”
With her penchant for shocking people, Belle had been first to put her hand up to man the Love Me range, catering for the liberal-minded festival attendees, offering vibrators to blow-up dolls and everything in between.
The locals steered clear of Belle’s booth at Love Fest though Sierra would hazard a guess more than a few patronized the goods on a regular basis through the Internet.
The out-of-towners had no hesitation in checking out Belle’s merchandise and often left holding the discreet brown paper bags lined in red silk.
“What does she sell?”
Sierra grinned and tapped him on the nose. “You’ll see.”
Marc’s head swiveled as they wound their way past the kissing booth, the arcade games and the Ferris wheel.
“Never been to a fair before?”
He glanced down at her, his eyes sparkling with the wide-eyed wonder of a child let loose in Disneyland.
“That obvious?”
“Yeah. Want to go for a ride later?”
“I thought we’d already established that back at my place?” His exaggerated wink made her laugh.
“You’re bad.”
She lifted the flap of the red silk tent and ushered him in. “Speaking of being bad, after you.”
“Jeez-us.”
He whistled long and low, his gaze darting around the dim interior. “And I thought Love was stuck in a time warp.”
“Well, hello there.” Belle left the cash register and sashayed across the tent, looking amazing as usual in a simple navy dress, conservative on the average woman yet turning her into a sex goddess.
“Can I help you with anything?” Belle paused in front of a table covered in BDSM paraphernalia that made Sierra mentally wince just looking at the whips, clamps and spreader bars. “You look like an open-minded couple to me. Perhaps this would interest you?”
Belle held up a vibrator sporting enough attachments to keep its owner satisfied into the next century.
“Or perhaps these have your name written on them?” Belle hooked a pair of handcuffs lined with leopard-print fur with her index finger and swung them under Marc’s nose.
He swatted them away and laughed. “I’m browsing but maybe you can convince the lady?”
Sierra held up her hands to ward her friend off. “Hey, I’m just filling in.”
“That’s one of the perks.” Belle winked. “Fifty percent staff discount.”
Sierra laughed and shooed her away. �
��Thanks but no thanks. Now scoot before I change my mind about helping you out.”
Belle sighed and replaced the vibrator and handcuffs alongside the rest of the sex toys. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. Been a slow day.”
Sierra slipped an arm around Belle’s shoulders and hugged her. “Business is always slow on the first day. Bet you’re sold out by the end of the weekend.”
Belle nodded. “I know, but it gets so damn boring in here.”
“Really?” Marc wandered through the tent and snagged a whip with his right hand, edible underwear with his left. “Doesn’t look boring to me.”
Belle shrugged. “I get to see this stuff regularly. Once you’ve seen one Ever-Ready Shake, Rattle and Roll, you’ve seen them all.”
Marc’s eyebrows rose. “Regularly?”
“Belle’s the town’s merchandise liaison officer for the Love Me line,” Sierra said, chuckling at Marc’s wide-eyed stare as his gaze swung between Belle and her merchandise.
“You ladies have interesting jobs,” he said, replacing the toys on the table. “Beautician-cum-dominatrix and the matchmaking queen.”
His head swiveled between the two of them as if watching a freak show, a big stupid grin on the face she’d grown to love.
“Dang, I’m gonna miss this place.” He put on his best country-bumpkin voice, which got a laugh out of Belle but all Sierra could manage was a tight smile.
It wasn’t his dig at her hometown but the fact he’d be leaving in two days.
She was a sucker. Whatever happened to GOLF? She’d had some orgasmic laid-back fun but where did it say in Belle’s how to do men handbook she’d end up wanting more?
“Okay, kids, I’d like to stay and chat but I’ve got me a hot date with a spicy Tom Yum.” Belle picked up her bag and wiggled her fingers in a saucy wave. “Want me to hang the do not disturb sign?”
Marc glanced around at the BDSM stuff, the mischievous glint in his eyes belying his shake of the head. “Hell no.”
Belle laughed. “In that case, sell loads. Back in thirty.”
She blew them a kiss and left, and Marc rubbed his hands together the moment the tent flap fluttered shut. “Now we’re alone, let’s browse.”
Sierra slapped his wrist, unable to resist when he was like this: playful, teasing, and utterly gorgeous.