Authors: Lynda Chance
Tags: #revenge, #series romance, #alphamale, #Contemporary
Maria stared at him, confused. “Because—because I didn’t know—didn’t think—”
“Didn’t think I loved you?”
She stared up at him, unable to hide the answer in her eyes.
His mouth firmed into a thin line. “I do love you. How the hell do you think I could feel this obsession for someone I didn’t love?”
“I don’t know,” she answered softly.
His hand snaked up and he palmed her breast. “So here’s the question,” he inhaled deeply, his eyes serious, “You feel anything in return?”
Her pulse quickened as she stared up at him. “Yes,” she admitted softly.
“Yeah?” he asked shortly. “You want to be more specific?”
Maria felt her lips lift into a smile. She bit her bottom lip as her face turned hot. She braced herself and said, “I love you.”
“Well, thank fuck for that,” he said, just before his mouth fell to hers. He kissed her hotly, roughly for about thirty seconds, devouring her mouth, before suddenly, his touch on her turned gentle.
He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “I should probably be completely honest,” he said in a voice that sounded as if it was costing him.
Maria swallowed, her muscles tensing for something bad. “You probably should.”
He reached down, took her hands in his and lifted them above her head, plastering them to the wall. He pushed between her legs and stared down at her. “The last two weeks have been the worst two weeks of my life.” His mouth tightened.
“And I’ve had some bad weeks, baby
. I’m not going through that shit again. I’m not prepared to take the chance that someone might try to steal you away from me. I’d just be scared and pissed all the time.” He took a deep breath and bit out, “I’m not going to be satisfied until there’s a ring on your finger.”
An arrow of joy and relief pierced through her heart. She lifted her chin and throwing his words back at him, she challenged, “You want to be more specific?”
His face split into a smile. Releasing one of her hands, he put his fingers under her chin and stared into her eyes, his smile dissolving as a serious quality took over his expression. “I love you, Maria Alvarez. Will you marry me?”
Pleasure, in its purest form held her in its grip. She reached out and hit his shoulder, before wrapping her arm around his neck in a stranglehold. “Why, Mr. Rule, I thought you’d never ask.”
Epilogue
Seven years later
Garrett knocked on the bathroom door, while keeping one eye on his kids who were running around the hotel suite like proverbial chickens with their heads cut off. “Maria—are you ready, babe?”
“Almost,” she answered through the door.
“Well, hurry up. The kids are going to tear the place down if we don’t get them to the pool pretty soon.”
“I’m almost ready. Just give me a sec—” her words stopped when he opened the door and stuck his head in.
He felt his body harden as he looked her up and down. “You think you’re wearing that?” he asked through gritted teeth. He usually loved the vacations they took to Miami. But this time . . .
not so much.
She looked at herself in the mirror and tilted her head as if the choice were entirely hers.
When would she ever get it?
“I think so,” she said absently, as if she hadn’t decided yet.
He ran his eyes over her ripe curves. Curves that had only gotten better since childbirth and motherhood. Curves that never failed to turn him on. “Nope,” he bit out.
She turned to look at him. “Nope? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re not wearing it. It’s a string-fucking-bikini, Maria,” he exaggerated, maybe a bit too harshly.
“No, it’s not,” she laughed.
“It’s a bikini,” he qualified, his gaze glued to her breasts.
She rolled her eyes. “No, it’s not.”
“It’s a two-piece,” he accused, not about to give in.
She turned back to the mirror and frowned. “It’s a tankini—”
“I don’t give a shit what you want to call it. You’re not wearing it down to the pool.”
“What’s got you so riled all of a sudden?” she asked with an edge of concern.
“Nothing,” his mouth flattened. “I’m going to sell the goddamn hotel,” he threatened under his breath.
She choked off a bark of laughter and turned back to him.
“You can’t,”
she smiled like the cat that had gotten the cream. “You gave it to me for a wedding present, remember?”
Son-of-a-bitch
. He had done that. He’d purchased it from the corporation and then gifted it to his wife. He couldn’t sell it. His hands were tied. “Whatever. You’re not wearing that.”
She studied him for a moment as if gauging his temperature. Taking a few steps forward, she poked her head into the suite and very briefly checked on the kids before pulling him into the bathroom with her. She shut the door with a quiet ‘click’. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” he denied.
“Garrett,” she said softly, trying to wrangle an answer from him.
Damn it.
“They checked in. I saw them.”
Her brows creased. “Who?”
“The Calderons. The older couple
and
their whole damn family. That fucker who’s always been so into you is with them.”
Her face lit up with a pleased smile. “Really? I haven’t seen them in years.”
“Yeah, well, the first time isn’t going to be in a bright red bikini—”
“Tankini,” she corrected, looking back to the mirror.
As if it made a damn difference. “Maria,” he growled.
“Yes?” she asked, using that innocent tone that drove him wild.
“Are you trying to drive me insane?”
Her eyes cut to his and she looked at him from under her lashes.
“Always.”
He felt the hit just like he always had. Like it was an addiction, a compulsion, an obsession that he couldn’t shake . . . that he never wanted to shake. He grabbed her by the hand and twirled her until her back was against the door and he was standing over her. “Baby?”
“Yeah?” she asked, panting, gratifying him to no end.
“You want to wear the bikini?” he bit out.
“Yes.” Her eyes flared as if they were about to play a game that she liked.
“All right.” He palmed the heat between her legs and squeezed. “On one condition.”
Her hands landed on his pecs, where she was undoubtedly able to feel his heart beating. “What’s that?” she asked as she caressed his chest.
“If he comes to the pool room and sees you, you can greet him—you can even be nice to him, but then you come and sit on my lap.”
“That’s kind of rude and in-your-face,” she accused, but he could tell she was trying not to smile.
“Yeah? You think I give a fuck?” He took a breath. “And two—”
“Two? You said ‘one condition’.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I lied. Two conditions.”
She bit off another spill of laughter. “What?”
“Later. After the kids are asleep, I’m going to peel the damn suit off with my teeth, got it?”
As she studied him, her smile dissolved and her gaze became intent. “Okay,” she agreed seriously.
He ran his eyes over her beauty that had him well and truly addicted. “Baby?”
“Yeah?”
He lowered his head. “I love you.”
She sucked in a breath and lifted her face to his. “I love you, too.”
His lips landed on hers as his arms wrapped around her.
Satisfaction and pure pleasure held him in its grip. Life was good. Marriage was even better. His wife was perfect. Every other thought other than Maria disappeared from his brain as contentment washed over him. He began kissing her the way she liked it best, the way he liked it best, the way that had him happily addicted. Forever.
The End
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The House of Rule, Book Four
2015
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An excerpt from Rule’s Obsession, Book one of The House of Rule
Damian and Angie’s story: Copyright 2014 Lynda Chance
The limo pulled in front of her apartment and idled, the privacy screen drawn up to provide a seclusion that Angie wasn’t quite comfortable with. The rest of the evening had been long and tedious, only because Angie’s nerves were affected. After the scene with the Robertson guy, the party had sailed smoothly with everyone else accepting her and including her as if she were one of their own.
She pasted on a smile and held out her hand, determined to give Damian a business-like shake before she went inside. “Well, good-bye.”
He glanced down with a maddening hint of arrogance, his gaze riveted on her face before dropping to examine every inch of her. Something intense flared between them and her heart jolted, the prolonged anticipation of his touch almost unbearable. Slowly, he put his palm against hers, wrapping his fingers around her hand, squeezing, but not letting go. “Are you planning on escaping with a handshake?” His voice was deep yet smooth, melting her insides where she sat.
Her pulse pounded and she could barely form a word when she thought about what he might be inferring. “Yes?” The word that should have been an affirmation sounded like a question, even to her own ears.
He frowned as if he couldn’t fathom that she might want to escape from him. “After all those hot little looks you gave me from across the dinner table?”
He’d given
her
hot looks all evening as well, and even now, the expression on his face was both seductive and filled with virile appeal. “I thought that’s what you wanted from me. You said it had to look real.”
His steady gaze bore into her, making her stomach tingle. “You went far beyond what I expected, though.”
Was it apparent to him that any acting on her part hadn’t been necessary? Mortification filled her and she attempted to divert him from the truth. “I’m sorry. I’ve never taken acting classes or anything. I was flying by the seat of my pants.”
“Yeah, but now for the sixty-four thousand dollar question.” He slid a single finger down her cheek. “Was it all an act?”
The smoldering flame in his eyes was beginning to panic her. This would
so not
be a good idea, no matter what the tingle between her thighs was telling her. “What . . . what do you mean?”
“Your hot little looks indicated you wanted nothing more than to get me naked.” He glanced up from her lips and his eyes caught and captured hers. “Is that the way it is or did I misread you?”
Damn.
“Um . . . “
“It would be good, you know?”
Jesus, he smelled good.
Concentrate, Angie
. “Yeah, but it wouldn’t be a
good idea,”
she managed to say, her eyes glued to his.
“I agree with you.” Angie’s heart almost stopped when his fingers dropped to the top swell of her breast. Without looking away from her eyes, his thumb flicked just once against her nipple and she froze. “It’s a bad idea.” His gaze dropped to her breast as he hissed out,
“It’s a fucked-up idea.”
Angie attempted to maintain control though it was all but impossible; her heart was racing so fast she could barely speak. “Bad idea . . . nothing in common,” she rattled.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” His palm enclosed her breast entirely and he squeezed just hard enough that the immediate pleasure she felt was enhanced by a tiny frisson of pain. His gaze lifted and stayed riveted to her eyes as he rasped, “We have one thing in common.” He squeezed again, his thumb spearing across her nipple. “We want to fuck each other so badly we can hardly stand it.”
Rule’s Obsession: Book One of The House of Rule; Available now
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Pursuit
(The first meeting and romance of Logan and Lauren)
Marco’s Redemption
The Rancher’s Virgin Acquisition
(historical)