Guardian Girl (The Chronicles of Staffordshire)
Read Guardian Girl (The Chronicles of Staffordshire) Online
Authors: NC Simmons
Tags: #Adult Fiction
Part 4 - A Very Personal Assistant
The Chronicles of
Staffordshire
Guardian Girl
N.C. Simmons
The Chronicles of Staffordshire
Guardian Girl
By N.C. Simmons
“This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writers imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.”
Text Copyright © 2013
N.C. Simmons
www.ncsimmons.com | Twitter @ncsimmonsauthor
Cover Art © 2013
Emily Salazar
www.emilysalazar.com | Twitter @Blueyedrican
The cover art model was verified to be 18 years of age or older at the time the photograph was taken. All necessary releases and documentation of age are on file with the owner of the copyright.
Published by N.C. Simmons
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Without limiting rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
DEDICATION
To the “Three Jamigos…”
I don’t know why you put up with my mania.
I love you all…
So much more than life itself.
To Emily…
Your beauty is far beyond skin deep.
Your openness inspires me to take new risks.
You completed Staffordshire.
Author’s Note…
Dear Reader,
If you hate spoilers, just skip this little introduction. I promise I won’t spoil too much, but I want you to read the four books of “The Chronicles of Staffordshire” with your eyes wide open.
“Staffordshire” is not just erotica. It is also not just breathless romance. It is something altogether different.
“Staffordshire” is a lifetime love story spanning more than thirty years. There are four, full-length novels in the series, full of all the events that happen in a typical love story. Like any love story, things can also get very, very steamy on occasion.
If you are looking for straight-up erotica, where every page involves mysterious, dangerous, kinky, BDSM sex with a stranger, you will be disappointed.
When it comes to sex, I write about what I know. I don’t shout my sexual preference from the rooftops, but I am a bi-sexual woman. I have been monogamously married to the same, amazingly understanding man for more than 20 years. That choice has not been without its struggles, for either of us. My struggles play out in the fantasy world of “Staffordshire.”
With that said, if you are looking for an equal opportunity LGBT author, you might want to look somewhere else. If a man is not a man’s man, loaded with testosterone and ready to wrestle a bear for his woman, then you will not find him in my books.
BDSM is an ever-present undertone throughout the Staffordshire series. If dungeon play makes you squeamish, you might want to turn back now. At Staffordshire, the dungeon play goes askew on occasion.
On the other hand, if you are looking for a textbook treatment of BDSM you will be disappointed. Although I studied under a real Mistress to prepare for these books, I also chose to create a fantasy world that goes outside the bounds of “real” BDSM. Most of the BDSM scenes came straight from activities I witnessed first hand. Some did not. Your mileage may vary.
If the thought of a child knocking on the bedroom door just as you are screaming, “YES! YES! YES!” gives you a good laugh, then Staffordshire is for you. I raised three beautiful, well-adjusted girls and great sex with hubby didn’t stop just ‘cause I had little ones in the house. But my little sweeties always seemed to knock at the worst times!
Although there is a
lot
of sex in my books,
none
of it involves under-aged characters. All sexual liaisons occur between consenting adults aged 18 and older.
And if you read all of those warnings and
still
decide to read my books, my hope is that you will experience some delightful times of self (and other!) love along the journey.
(Have your Magic Wand ready, ladies…)
Thus endeth the spoilers.
Warmest hugs and kisses!
N.C. Simmons
Prologue
May 1976
“I FOUND HER! ELENA! MARIA! I FOUND HER!”
Fashion designer Raquel Shalamar sprinted room to room in her Madrid studio, waving an international business magazine in her left hand. A photo of what appeared to be a tall, trim, late-teen girl wearing a form-fitting riding outfit flip-flopped in her fist.
The 5’7” goddess in the picture stood in ready-to-ride stance, calf-length black riding boots over snug, tan and cream jodhpurs, with a springy, black riding crop arced between her hands. The girl’s megawatt smile streamed from the page. Thick, shimmering, raven hair was pulled into a pony tail, hanging seductively over her right shoulder and draping across her breast.
The diminutive diva stood at the top of the third floor landing and shouted for her apprentices. “ELENA! MARIA! I FOUND HER!”
Shalamar stared again at the image. The girl’s face was a seductive blend of oval and heart shaped, with large, hypnotic, amber-brown eyes. Unfortunate souls who dared gaze upon the girl instantly found themselves captivated by her rare beauty. Her lips were broad and full and they glistened under the artificial lighting of the photo. Her skin… Her smooth, richly tanned skin…
“ELENA! MARIA! Where are you two? Who is this girl? FIND ME THIS GIRL! I must have her! She is our next ‘face of Shalamar’! Get her for me! I must have her
now
! ELENA! MARIA!”
Hearing Raquel’s shouts on the first floor of the studio, the young designer’s assistants scrambled up the stairs, arriving at her side breathless and panting.
“Raquel…!” Maria wheezed. “What are you shouting about? All of Madrid has heard you!”
“Her!
I am looking at
her
!” Shalamar exclaimed, pointing at the girl’s image. “Look at her! Look at her face! Look at her figure! My God! Look at this girl’s beauty! This is the one! SHE is the girl I have been searching for! SHE is the new face of Shalamar!
Get
her for me!”
The designer threw the magazine into the shorter girl’s face. Elena snagged it as it fell, quickly thumbing through the pages until she found the photo. In the middle of a lengthy article about Spanish entrepreneur Armand De La Fuente, his international shipping empire, and his $250million personal fortune, the magazine added a sidebar about the mogul’s multi-talented daughter, Lenore.
In an instant, Elena fell to the girl in riding regalia. By impulse she smiled back at the joyful face beaming from the full-color page.
With Maria hovering over her shoulder, Elena read the caption aloud. “14-year-old Lenore De La Fuente poses with her award-winning horses at the De La Fuente family stables…”
Maria blinked slowly, muttering, “Dear God…”
The two assistants turned to each other, slack-jawed. They pointed back and forth nervously, neither one wishing to irritate the boss with unfortunate news.
“
Well?
Which one of you fools will get me this girl?”
Elena stepped backward and pushed Maria to the fore.
“ELENA! Stop shoving me!”
“Well, Maria? Are
you
going to get me this girl?”
“Raquel…” Maria stammered. “This… This may be difficult… She is… My God, Raquel… She is only 14 years old! She is
too young!
”
“I… do… not… CARE! She is the one! I want this girl!”
“But Raquel…”
The designer grabbed both girls by their biceps and shouted in their faces. “I do not care how you do it, I do not care how much it costs! Get me this girl! Get her now! GO! DO IT! I do not want to see either of your miserable faces until you get me this girl!”
Shalamar tossed her assistants backward like rag dolls. She spun and sped away, stopped abruptly, and turned back to face the pair. Lifting her right hand, Raquel pointed her index finger back and forth between the traumatized sycophants.
“And I tell you this… Whoever gets me this girl first will receive a
sizable
bonus and a promotion.”
Just as quickly, Raquel spun away, leaving Elena and Maria reeling. The pair stared at each other dumbstruck until a single phrase registered in their rattling brains.
“SIZABLE BONUS AND PROMOTION?!”
The duo disappeared, running to phone books to track down the number for Armand De La Fuente and his hypnotic daughter.
After dinner one evening, Armand and Lenore sat quietly together in Armand’s 4000 volume library, as they often did before retiring for the night. For a soothing ambiance, Lenore selected Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9 in E Minor.
From the floor to the twelve-foot-high ceiling, the room was filled with rare, first edition books and original art. The father/daughter duo adored the classics, often sitting together in silence for hours, filling their minds with fantasies and fictions of far away lands. Lenore grew to fancy the thick, musky aroma of the leather-bound volumes lining the walls of Armand’s study. The simple act of entering the room and experiencing its heady, earthy scent was enough to set her overactive mind wandering.
