Subterfudge (7 page)

“It’s not that. I don’t mind it. But I wasn’t successful with it, Sir, and it made me sad to disappoint you. I hated that. It made me feel like a failure.”

He took her in his arms. “Silly girl. I will love you even if you can’t boil water. There are lots of things that take a while to learn. Cooking is one of them. I don’t expect you to be perfect, or great at everything. And I don’t expect you to do all the domestic chores, especially if you hate them. I can help around the house.”

“Well, Lance says he’ll help me learn in the kitchen. He wants to take me under his wing.” She looked up at him hopefully.

“You two looked rather cosy when I walked in. Should I be jealous?”

She thought he might be teasing her, but she wasn’t sure. He rocked her body back and forth as he held her.

She pretended to punch him on the shoulder. “No, Sir. Lance has a boyfriend.”

“Okay, that’s good. Can’t have him movin’ in on my girl.” He kissed her on the lips.

“So, you’re not mad at me?” she asked.

“To be honest, I’m concerned that you lied to me. You don’t ever have to lie to me.”

“I know. That was the worst part. I’m sorry.” She hung her head.

“You need to understand that I accept you for who you are, Ashley—warts and all. There is nothing you ever need to hide from me. Do you understand?”

She fought back tears. Had anyone ever loved her so much
just for being her
before? Her parents, maybe. But Roger loved her even when she acted like an idiot. He loved her
in spite
of her craziness. Her heart swelled with love for him. Biting her lip, she nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay, because I have something important that I want to talk with you about. I was planning to save it for later, but I think we need to discuss it now.”

Anxiety churned in her stomach. She didn’t say a word.

“Remember how I said I’ve been thinking more domestic thoughts lately?”

Ashley was frozen, not sure where he was going with this.

“Darling, that’s because I want to make you my wife.”

Ashley wasn’t sure what she’d heard was real. Was this really happening to her? A couple of hours ago, she’d thought Roger might leave her. Now he was proposing to her?

She watched as her beloved Roger knelt down on one knee, gazed into her eyes and asked, “My sweet Ashley, will you marry me?”

She flung herself onto his lap. “Yes, of course I will!” She smothered him with kisses.

“Wait, I have a ring,” he said and pulled a box out of his pocket.

She laughed. She was so excited she’d forgotten about the ring.

It was a lovely, emerald cut diamond that fit her precisely. Exactly what she would have chosen. Leave it to Roger to choose the perfect ring for her.

Nestled in his embrace, they made out for what seemed like hours. All of a sudden, a funky smell drifted into the room.

“What’s that?” Ashley asked. “Oh my God! The fudge!”

She ran into the kitchen and discovered the scorched concoction sitting on the stove.

Her first instinct was to cry.

Instead, she breathed deeply, glanced down at the ring on her finger, considered the unconditional love it represented then walked back into the other room.

“Hey, Sir, want to order a pizza?”

Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

Venetian Love Knots

Normandie Alleman

Excerpt

Chapter One

Allison held her plastic cup in a death grip
as she absently rattled the ice cubes in it. She stared out of the bubble-shaped window on her flight to Rome. The vodka had done little to calm her nerves. Neither
People
,
Cosmo
, nor
Vogue
had been any help distracting her. Allison’s mind was determined to go back to the one man who had caused her more pain and heartache than she had ever known. The man whom she would soon see for the first time in four years.

She bit her lip and shut her eyes tightly. Allison remembered the day her best friend Marcia had told her that she was getting married in Venice the week of Valentine’s Day. Marcia had asked her to be her maid of honour and Allison had immediately jumped at the chance. She loved to travel, and she wanted to be there for Marcia.

Marcia had been dating Alfonso ever since Allison could remember. The pair had been together since they were kids in grammar school, when Alfonso and his parents moved to Texas from Italy. In fact, Alfonso had lived in the United States so long that no one thought of him as Italian, but the rest of his family was still in Italy.

Marcia had explained that it was a family tradition for them to be married in Venice around St Valentine’s Day. Alfonso was very close with his grandmother, who still lived there, and he wanted to carry on the family tradition for her. Marcia had met Alfonso’s Italian family, and had said that they were wonderful—very hospitable—and had been kind to her.

“His grandmother is so cute and little, but she’s a pistol, you know? Plus he has all these Italian cousins. They’re so handsome and polite. And they really know how to throw a party. I bet the whole time we were in Italy we didn’t sleep a wink! Somebody was always throwing a dinner party, or a lunch, or even a brunch for us. It was wild. And Venice… Oh, Allie, you are going to love Venice!” Marcia had gone on and on, telling her about the sights she’d seen and all of the art that Allison could see if she went. It had sounded like something Allison did not want to miss.

A couple of weeks later, Allison had just walked into her apartment when she’d got a call from Marcia. “Allie, honey, it’s me, Marsh. Are you sitting down? I need you to sit down.”

Allison had set her groceries down on the floor and sat.

“Honey, Alfonso has gotten Cole to agree to be his best man,” she’d said.

Marcia’s announcement had been met with complete silence.

“Allison? You still there?” Marcia had asked.

Cole. For years Allison had prayed for indifference towards Cole. She had hated him for years. What she felt for Cole was either unmitigated passion or hate. She didn’t know any in between. And what she had wound up craving was indifference. The last time she’d seen him, four years ago, what she had prayed for, what she had begged God for, was to feel indifference towards him. He had almost ruined her life.

“Yes, Marcia, I’m here.” Her voice emotionless. Her purse strap had fallen off her shoulder as she’d slumped forward on the chair.

“Well, Allison, I
know
this is going to be uncomfortable for you, knowing how you’ve tried to put the whole Cole thing behind you, but hopefully you won’t have to see each other very much. I mean it is a large wedding party and all. Alfonso says Cole has a girlfriend. I mean she’s not coming or anything, but…well, what do you think? Will you still be my maid of honour?”

“Of course, it’s fine,” Allison had lied, keeping her tone as even as she’d been able.

“I’m so sorry about this!” Marcia had prattled on and Allison had put on a brave face for her friend and pretended that everything would be fine.

Now that she was on her way to Italy, her fears rose to the surface.

It’s fine
, she thought to herself sarcastically.
That’s why I’m sitting here half-drunk and miserable, worrying about some guy from four years ago
. She crossed and uncrossed her legs several times, fractious and annoyed with herself that even thinking about him could still shake her up so much.

Allison Fox had enjoyed being a popular girl for most of her twenty-six years. Her relationship with Cole Street was a source of shame for her, but it was also secretly how she identified herself. While she was ashamed of what she’d put up with for the relationship, who she was when she was with Cole was how she defined herself as a woman in many ways. That made her feel even worse about herself.

No one had ever understood how she could stand to be with Cole. He was not the kind of guy she could count on to be there for her. He would stand her up for dates and disappear from her life for months while he was gone on the rodeo circuit. Then Cole would reappear as though everything was just fine. But when they were together things were more than fine. The searing heat between the two of them had been legendary. One glance from him could drop her to her knees. She was putty in his hands.

For as long as Allison could remember, she had been unable to resist Cole. He was never romantic, but the raw passion that he had for her was even better as far as she was concerned. His forcefulness, the way he knew his mind and hers, the way he knew that he wanted her and single-mindedly always came for her—it made her powerless to resist him. They had an intense emotional connection that rivalled the physical one, but it was more complicated than that. Cole had always been able to give her what she needed, even when she didn’t understand those needs herself.

The flight attendant strolled down the aisle passing out blankets. Allison took one. Her arms were covered in goose bumps and the hairs on them stood on end. She hoped it was because the cabin was chilly.

Allison wrapped the blanket around her, and snuggled down into her seat. As she rubbed her arms to try to warm herself, her mind went back to the first time she had met Cole.

* * * *

She was at a fraternity party with Marcia and Alfonso. Cole was supposed to be her date for the evening. It was a casual set-up and at first Allison didn’t see much potential. Cole wasn’t a traditionally handsome guy, and he ignored her for the first part of the night.

The party had lots of kegs, punch with grain alcohol, and a band playing loud music. Allison entertained herself talking to friends, dancing, drinking alcohol-laced punch. She was having a good time, despite the fact that her date was ignoring her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Cole was a hit with everyone else. Her date was the life of the party—people seemed to love him. He was like a magnet, and on the few occasions that he did talk to her, she liked him too. He had a crooked grin and he exuded confidence, drawing people in with his energy and his swagger.

As the night wore on, Allison began to find Cole more and more attractive, and she wished he was spending more time with her. Then out of nowhere he came up to her and pulled her away from the party.

Cole took her hand in his. “C’mon,” he said with a shy look and dragged her along. He led her to an abandoned area of the frat house. It was almost eerie to be so alone, yet the loud music and raucous behaviour of the partygoers close by made Allison feel at ease.

Cole took her face in his hands and kissed her lips. He gently slid his tongue into her mouth, searching for hers. Allison wrapped her arms around his waist and returned his kiss with a passion of her own.

Then Cole circled both his hands tightly around her arms, and whispered into Allison’s ear, “I want you.”

Allison’s heart raced. She was sweating, and her knees almost buckled. As she felt herself slipping in his arms, Cole tightened his grip on her, holding her up.

Inside Allison was panicked. She didn’t know what to do. So she stalled. “What?” she asked feebly, not even recognising her own voice.

“You heard me,” Cole said. He wasn’t playing games. When he finally pulled away he set his hands on her shoulders and looked her square in the eye. “You know what I mean. I want to fuck
you.”

Allison felt her eyes widen. She’d never had a guy talk to her this way before. She felt so aroused. Her breath came in short, hot bursts. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than for Cole to fuck her. Her body twitched, wanting to feel him pressed up against her again. Her lips quivered. She was wet and her nipples were hard, aching for him to touch them. She wanted him. He had taken away her inhibitions. She felt the colour rise on her cheeks.

Cole took her cup of grain alcohol punch out of her hand then poured it on the ground. “And when I fuck you, I want you to remember it. Go tell Marcia you’re leaving. Meet me here in fifteen minutes.” He paused. “That is, if you want to.” He threw her a devilish grin, turned and walked away, leaving her standing there a quaking, puddled mess.

Allison was confused. She knew she should be trying to make a decision about whether or not she should go with him. There was a part of her that knew that a good girl would never even consider going with a guy like that. A decent girl would have been offended. That kind of girl probably would have slapped him, right? She knew that those were the kinds of things she
should
be thinking.

But she wasn’t.

For her there was no decision to be made. Somehow Cole had known that. Somehow he’d known how to push her buttons from the very beginning.

Allison was there in fifteen minutes. Cole took her hand, and they walked to his place. Along the way they laughed and talked, stopping for passionate kisses and for him to feel up under her clothing as though her body belonged to him. She felt like she did already belong to him. He had taken control of her sexuality in a way that felt right to her. She welcomed his advances. She would let him use her as he pleased.

As they went into the dark apartment, he told her to go up onto the bed in the loft. She obeyed, and he climbed up the ladder behind her. He stripped down to his boxer shorts, so Allison undressed down to her bra and panties. They lay in the bed kissing for a long time. He took off her bra and panties, and she lay naked beneath him. He reached over, grabbed a big cup of water, and filled his mouth with it. Then he dribbled it all over her chest.