Satisfaction: The Collection

by Tori Scott

  She slid her feet into the boots, pulled the gloves up past her elbows, and slipped the stole around her shoulders. Her mother put the necklace around her neck and made sure the clasp was secure.

  "You look absolutely beautiful." A tear slipped down her mother’s cheek. "Both of my girls look beautiful."

  "So do you, Mom." Angel kissed her cheek. "You have enough tissues?"

  Her mother opened her small purse. The inside was stuffed full with tissues and a single tube of lipstick.

  "Yeah, that should hold you."

  The wedding coordinator opened the door. "It’s time."

  Angel took a deep breath, kissed Cara on the cheek, and ushered the flower girl out the door. Reggie was right behind them. As they lined up at the edge of the crimson runner, Angel looked up. Mitch and Sam stood beside Gray at the end of the aisle. All eyes were focused on the women and a ripple of appreciation rolled through the small crowd.

  The music started and the coordinator gave last minute instructions to the two children and sent them on their way.

  When it was her turn, Angel glanced at Mitch to find his gaze locked on her. She smiled and held his gaze all the way down the aisle. His eyes gave her something to focus on besides the people watching her every move, besides the flash of the lights. She made it to the front without a single misstep and breathed a sigh of relief.

  When Cara took her place at the end of the aisle, Angel wished desperately for her camera. The look that passed between Cara and Gray was priceless. The rent-a-‘tog had better have gotten that shot.

  Then Cara and her mother started down the aisle. Cara had asked her mother to give her away since her father was long gone and there was no other close male relative. And it only seemed right since she’d been both mother and father to them since they were little.

  The ceremony itself was short and sweet, with Cara and Gray reciting the vows they’d written themselves. And then it was over and Angel met Mitch in the middle, taking his arm to walk back down the aisle.

  Why had she stressed so over this? It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

  And maybe, just maybe, she would dance with him after all.

  ***

  Mitch had always thought Angel was gorgeous. Even as a scared teenager in a world of trouble, she’d been the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He’d hated his brother back then--not only because he had treated her so terribly, but because Angel had been in love with him. He’d gotten over the hatred, but their relationship would never be the same.

  And if he married Angel as he intended, it would sever the last of that relationship, because he wouldn’t subject her to his parents or his brother. It was something they would have to discuss, would have to work out. But he would walk away and leave his family if it meant a life with her.

  "Hey, why so serious?" Angel handed him a glass of champagne and touched her glass to his. "This is supposed to be a celebration."

  He shook off the thoughts and concentrated on her smile. "You look happy."

  "I am happy. My sister has broken the family curse, and she’s married to the man of her dreams. It gives me hope." She sipped the champagne, then set it on a table. "Would you give me the honor of this dance?"

  He laughed as she gave him a deep bow. "Isn’t that supposed to be my line?"

  "Ah, but you gave me control, remember?"

  "Any chance I can take it back now?" He set his drink aside and took her outstretched hand.

  "Possibly. But first, we dance."

  He pulled her into his arms and she settled easily into the embrace. She followed his lead perfectly, though he was pretty sure she didn’t have a lot of experience with dancing.

  "I wanted to dance with you on the cruise, you know. But you were too busy avoiding me."

  "Didn’t stop you from flirting with Reggie, though. You know, I never did understand that."

  He looked into her eyes. "We were only trying to make you and Sam jealous. Did it work?"

  She shook her head. "It only made me want to scratch Reggie’s eyes out."

  "That’s jealousy. You never let on, though."

  "No, it wasn’t jealousy. It was pure…oh hell, you’re right. I was jealous." She laid her head against his shoulder. "I was just too scared of feeling anything, and I hated that you’d made me feel something. I kept building up my walls, and you kept knocking them down."

  "Have I told you how beautiful you look?" He pulled her in closer. "Like a snow queen. All you need is a tiara, though the ear muffs were a nice touch."

  "Your eyes told me, though it’s nice to hear the words."

  The dance ended and, though he hated to let her go, she had pictures to take. But he stayed close by, helping her with the lighting or toting her tripod around the room. The more he watched her work, the more she impressed him. She had a knack for getting exactly the expression she wanted. She was good with both adults and children, more at ease behind the camera than she was without it.

  He supposed it gave her a degree of separation between herself and others. But he could see how far she’d come over the last few months. She no longer twisted her hands together whenever the attention shifted her way. She no longer looked ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. And best of all, she no longer scowled when she looked his way.

  She chose that moment to catch his eye, giving him a brilliant smile, followed by a wink full of promise for the night to come.

  Oh, yeah. You’ve come a long way, baby.

  EPILOGUE

  The sound of small feet barreling down the hall gave Angel just enough time to brace herself before her daughter’s small body landed in the middle of the bed.

  Mitch rolled over and opened one eye. "Is it morning already?"

  "It’s Christmas, Daddy! And it’s snowing! Come see!"

  Christmas. Suddenly, Angel was nervous. Though she hadn’t had a panic attack in nearly five years, she could feel the familiar signs.

  And then she was in Mitch’s arms. "It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Don’t think about what might go wrong. Think about how right this is."

  "I know. I’m trying." His arms tightened, giving her strength.

  "You’ve waited half your life for this day, Angel. It’s natural to be nervous. Just don’t let it overwhelm you. I’m here with you. Mia and I are both here."

  She kissed the top of her daughter’s head. "Yes, you are. Okay, let’s get this show on the road. I wonder what Santa Claus brought?"

  Her daughter’s eyes rounded and she bounded off the bed. "Hurry. We have to go see."

  "Hey, you have to wait for us!" Angel laughed when Mia’s face twisted into a pout. "We just need a few minutes to get dressed. Go sit by the window and watch for Gramma, okay?"

  With an exaggerated sigh, Mia did as she was told. Mitch showered first, then distracted Mia with Christmas songs while Angel took her shower and put on her makeup. She wouldn’t normally bother with makeup on Christmas, but today was special.

  Today she got to meet her son.

  Though she’d hoped he would be ready when he turned eighteen, he’d decided to wait until he was twenty-one. They’d corresponded by email, he’d sent her pictures, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him in person, holding him in her arms. He’d grown up so much just in the three years they’d been in touch. But now he was only a few months away from graduating from college, and he’d already been accepted to graduate school. He wanted his entire family there for his graduation, and she desperately wanted to be there, to cheer from the sidelines.

  "Angel," Mitch called from the bedroom. "They’re here."

  She laid a hand over her quivering stomach and looked in the mirror. "You can do this. If he can do this, so can you." Then she took a deep breath, walked into the bedroom, and took her husband’s hand in hers.

  "Let’s do this."

  ###

  A word from the author:

  Thank you so much for buying the Satisfaction Collection. I hope you enjoyed the sto
ries. If you enjoyed this collection, please consider leaving a review.

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  Read on for an excerpt from SUPERSTITION

  SUPERSTITION

  by Tori Scott

  PROLOGUE

  Gage Deveraux curled his fingers around the amulet, felt the incredible energy sealed within the hammered brass, and shuddered. In the wrong hands... He would just have to make sure it didn’t fall into the wrong hands. "Thank you," he said to the old cleric who had placed it in his hands with great care. "I will guard it with my life."

  "No!" the old man shouted. "Do not guard it. Destroy it. Take it away in your helicopter and drop it into the depths of the ocean. Do not keep it. It will destroy you."

  But Gage didn’t hear him over the roar of the blades that churned up the desert sand and flung it into his face. He waved and jogged toward the chopper, scrambling aboard as it lifted into the air and swung away towards the base camp.

  He settled into the seat next to the pilot and watched as the old man grew smaller, merely a speck against the sand. Something nagged at him, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. How had the old man known he’d be in this place, at this time? Why had he entrusted him with an ancient Babylonian treasure that supposedly held such tremendous power? And what was he going to do with it, now that he had it?

  "ETA twenty-seven minutes, Captain," the pilot said through the headset.

  Gage nodded without taking his eyes off the amulet. It still pulsed within his hand. Heat radiated from it, warming the skin of his palm. Maybe the best thing would be to destroy it so that no one could ever attempt to use its power. But this entire mission was about stopping those who were stripping Iraq of treasures just like this one. He would be going against orders if he destroyed it.

  Still, even a strong man could be tempted by power such as this...

  CHAPTER ONE

  It was a terrible day to scatter ashes. The night was rainy and cold, miserable with the storm whipping the ocean into waves that thundered and crashed against the shore behind her. But Caitlyn Deveraux had missed the last two chances because she hadn’t been ready to let Gage go. Now that she’d made up her mind, it had to be tonight. She couldn’t stand to look at the urn on her mantle until the next full moon. A full moon, exactly at sunset. He’d left precise instructions in his will.

  Standing at the end of the Santa Monica pier, Caitlyn clutched the cold brass vase to her chest as a gust of wind tried to blow her back from the railing, yanking at her coat and tossing her hair around her face. She brushed it out of her eyes and tucked the strands beneath her collar. The rain soaked her face, mixing with the tears on her cheeks, numbing them. Cold. So damned cold. Drawing on the courage of her ancestors, even though she continued to pretend they didn’t exist, she removed the lid and looked inside. Ashes. All that was left of Gage. All that was left of her family. Of her life.

  It was time.

  Caitlyn leaned over the railing, fighting the dizziness. She hated heights, even though there was a sturdy rail between her and the water, and only her love for Gage kept her in place. It took two tries to let him go. Before she could lose courage again, she turned the urn upside down, shook it, and spoke the strange words he’d written. Words of the Anasazi, the lost ones--who couldn’t be lost enough as far as she was concerned.

  As his remains drifted toward the ocean, a gale-force gust of wind took her breath away. The ashes blew back in her face and she gasped, inhaling the acrid residue.

  Caitlyn dumped the last of the ashes from the urn and fled, gagging, back across the pier, stumbling along the boardwalk to her car.

  Oh God. To breathe in her brother’s ashes...

  She wrenched the door open and grabbed her water bottle to rinse her mouth. Not enough. When she tried to take a drink, a coughing fit sent the water spraying across the driver’s seat.

  Caitlyn dropped the bottle and collapsed in a heap on the ground, giving in to tears until she had none left to shed.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, but the moon was full and rising when she heard the scuff of shoes and whisper of fabric. She forced her eyes open to find a man in a dark suit towering over her. He crouched beside her and she cowered against the cold steel of her vehicle.

  Where had he come from? Could she make it into her car before he could grab her? No, there was no way. She had to get on her feet. She was at too much of a disadvantage on the ground.

  "Are you all right? May I help you in any way?" His voice was deep, husky, concerned. He didn’t look like a man intent on hurting her. But you couldn’t go by looks.

  "No." She shook her head and sat up straighter. Trying to appear confident and unafraid, she maneuvered to her knees. "I’m fine. Really. Just got a...a little emotional."

  "Ah, I understand." He picked up the urn, rubbing it between his hands. "It is very difficult, saying goodbye. A family member?"

  She shoved her hair back from her face and tried to stand. His hand immediately appeared and she looked at it, weighing the risk. No, better to avoid contact. She ignored his silent offer of help and pushed to her feet. "My brother."

  "I am so sorry. It is hard to lose someone so young."

  "Yes, it is. He was only thirty." Her voice broke on a sob and the man offered her a crisp white handkerchief. "Thank you." She mopped her cheeks and handed it back.

  He refolded it and held it toward her face. "Lick this."

  "What?"

  "You have smudges on your cheeks. I was simply going to wipe them away."

  Not a chance. He seemed harmless enough, but still..."I have a water bottle in the car." Caitlyn pulled it out and squirted the last few drops of water onto the cloth, leaned over to look in the side mirror, and scrubbed at her cheek.

  "Much better," he said. Before she could move, he reached out and lifted the chain around her neck. "This is an interesting necklace."

  "Thank you." God, she had to get away before she completely fell to pieces. "I have to go. Thank you for being so kind." She gave him a small smile, climbed into her Ford Focus, and shut the door. Damn, she’d left the window down earlier. Before she could start the car and roll it up, the man laid his hand on the open window frame. Nerves hummed throughout her body and she berated herself for not being more diligent about her safety on this isolated stretch of coastal highway.

  "I will follow you to see that you get home safely," he said.

  "No!" She struggled to control her voice, to not show how terrified she was. "No, please. That isn’t necessary. I’ll be fine. Thank you again, but I don’t want to trouble you any further."

  Caitlyn started the car and drove away. When she checked her rearview mirror, he was nothing more than a dark shadow outlined by the full moon. She stepped on the accelerator, picking up speed to put more distance between them. Now that she was safe, she wondered who he was. He reminded her of Jamir. He had that same intense gaze through eyes dark as pitch, the same ability to approach without making a sound.

  A set of headlights followed her for miles along the coast, through the outskirts of Los Angeles, and even through the streets of Pasadena. Or maybe it was just her imagination. There were hundreds of cars on the highway, so what made her think it was the man from the beach?

  Instinct. Stronger than she’d ever felt it before. But she couldn’t tell if he was watching over her, or if he meant to hurt her. She thought it was the former, but her instincts had been wrong before. She didn’t know if she should trust them now.

  He stayed a couple of car lengths back, neither threatening nor comforting. .

  "You remind me a lot of your brother." The voice echoed in her head, but sounded as though it came from inside the car.

  She jerked the wheel. Who said that? Horns blared all around her and she realized she’d swerved into another lane.

  "Whoa. Careful. Can’t afford
to lose you now that I’ve found you. Settle down. You’re almost home."

  Who the hell was that? She looked in the rear view mirror, over the back seat. No one, yet the voice had been distinctly masculine, and it was close. Very close. Almost right inside her head.

  "There, that’s better. Now, take it easy and pay attention to your driving. Then maybe we will both arrive in one piece."

  Nausea clawed at her stomach and her hands trembled. Think. What would Gage do? If someone followed him, he’d lose the tail by cutting through alleys and side streets. As long as she was on the freeway, she was easy to track.

  Having a plan helped her push the fear aside. She could do this.

  Her right foot punched the gas pedal and her car shot off the highway at the next exit, cutting off a car as she changed lanes. Her pulse kicked into overdrive, pounding in her temples. She heard tires squeal behind her, the clash of metal against metal. "Take that, you son of a bitch."

  "Easy. I won’t hurt you. But I will not lose you, either."

  Dear God, he was still behind her. She made a series of quick turns through the streets of Pasadena, shot through a crowded shopping center parking lot--praying no one would back out in front of her--made a squealing turn down a back alley, and came out on Colorado Boulevard. The street was crowded with people milling about as they walked to and from shops and restaurants. She slowed, but she watched her rear view mirror for any sign of someone trying to catch up with her.

  One last turn and she no longer saw headlights behind her. Thank God.

  No sense in taking chances, though. She punched the garage door opener as she rounded the corner of her street and drove straight inside. By the time the car rolled to a full stop, the door was halfway down behind her. She sat in the car, doors locked, until she was sure no one had slipped inside.

  Tears came out of nowhere and trickled down her cheeks. God, would she ever get over this, move on with her life without constant fear? Gage would be horrified to know he’d left her in such a state. But ever since his death, she’d felt like she was being followed, being watched. Why anyone would have any interest in her, she had no idea.