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Dangerous Temptation
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Dangerous Temptation
Scarlet West
Copyright © 2019 by Scarlet West
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
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Prologue
I rolled over and felt the sleepy warmth of a body beside me in the bed. I opened one eye and looked at him. With his stunning profile outlined by the warm morning sunshine, Reid was the most beautiful creature I had ever set eyes on.
He rolled over in his sleep and I felt something in my heart melt. He reached out, and drew me close with a firm touch. His strong arm pressed against my body and I felt the moment when he started to wake; his breathing patterns changing from deep and even to soft and regular.
“Good morning,” I whispered as he stirred.
A gentle kiss landed on my shoulder. “Good morning,” he whispered back.
I snuggled closer, and felt his warm embrace enfold me, holding me close. I felt safe, lying beside him; warm and safe and cared about in ways I’d never experienced before.
As he kissed my neck, my arousal grew. I wanted him and I could feel the pressure of his need on my back. I turned over and he grinned, eyes still closed.
“It’s still early,” he whispered. His soft voice brushed against my skin like thistledown.
“Yes,” I agreed, pressing my body against him. “It is. We still have some time.”
He reached down and I felt his fingers exploring me, rubbing over my clit, moving me towardto madness. I needed him so much it was a deep ache. He teased me, playing with my clit a bit longer, then, gently – so gently – sliding himself in me.
I gasped and rolled onto my back and he gently lowered his body between my thighs, parting them and pressing me back onto the soft sheets. I held him close as he moved within me with exquisite tenderness, rubbing the places inside me that made me cry out and gasp in pleasure.
He was starting to pant, too, getting as close to the edge as I felt. I held my breath, feeling my arousal build and build and knowing that soon I was going to climax.
I started to cry out and, just as I reached that impossible place where the pleasure transcended reality, he joined me. After we were both spent, he collapsed on top of me.
We lay like that for a long time. I loved that moment when – satisfied and sleepy – we just lay together, taking in the drowsy sounds of morning. Traffic – distant and muffled – on the road. Neighbors talking in muted voices. The sound of pigeons in the trees outside.
“I wish all our mornings could be like this,” I whispered.
“We’ll just have to keep Joshua away from school,” he chuckled.
I opened my eyes and grinned at him. “I know he’d like that idea just a bit too much. Don’t suggest it.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t dare. We’d never hear the end of it.”
I nodded. My son was nothing if not strong-willed. A trait he – according to him and Reid at least – had inherited wholesale from me.
I like to think that Joshua was himself – none of me, and none of the man who was nothing to me now, but the means of Joshua having come into my life. Reid made that possible for me.
Reid had changed both our lives. And – lying there with him, seeing him so peaceful and so free of pain – I thought we’d changed his, too.
Our lives were all so far away from where they were a year ago. Love made that happen. A love so big, so beautiful and unexpected, that I would never have foreseen it that day five years ago when I met him.
1
Hayley
“Hayley? Hayley!”
I blinked, looking up from where I leaned on the counter. I could took in the scents of coffee, burned toast, and perfumed body wash. I looked around the kitchen at Melissa’s Coffee Shop, trying to locate the source of the voice that had alerted me.
“Hayley!” my friend Ryanne, long, brown hair a well-styled mess around her face, shook my shoulder, smiling at me fondly. “What’s up with you? You still asleep?”
I sighed and scraped a chunk blonde hair out of my eye. “Just about,” I replied, blinking myself awake. I had been up for three hours already. I woke up early that morning to have time to finish cleaning the house before getting Joshua ready for school.
“What’s up?” Ryanne asked again. “Want to talk?”
I shrugged. “Nothing’s up. Why do I look stressed?” I added, with a jokey smile.
Ryanne was not about to be put off. “Yes,” she said. “About what? Yes! I’m coming!” she added over her shoulder as the other waitress, Morgan, came in, waving to her. “I’d better go,” she added. “But I’ll be back in a moment.”
I watched my friend going through the doors into the café, black uniform contrasting sharply with the beige walls and muted tables. I ran a hand through my blonde hair and sighed.
I wish I could wake up properly.
I didn’t know when I’d last had a proper night’s sleep. I had been running on about five hours each night – a routine of finishing work late, worrying about Joshua until the wee hours, and then waking up early to finish up the chores I had missed the night before. I thought if I kept it up much longer I might get sick.
“At least if I were finally sick, I could take off work.” I muttered to myself.
A voice snapped through my thoughts. “Hayley! Two coffees for number two! And be quick!”
I sighed. “Yes, Melissa.”
Melissa was our boss – a severe woman of indiscernible age who ran the place with crisp precision. We all called her the Major behind her back. None of us would have been anything less than respectful to her face, though.
I went over to the coffee machine and got the coffees, taking them to Table Two.
Back in the kitchen, I bumped into Ryanne by the counter. She was, like me, engaged in cutting up oranges for the juice-press. We worked busily, side-by-side.
“So?” Ryanne asked, frowning up at me. I reminded myself to ask her where she’d bought that gorgeous dark lipstick that suited her so well. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing really,” I yawned. “Just Joshua. I stress about him.”
“Why?” Ryanne frowned. “He looks like he’s doing great. A smart kid. Really smart.”
I sighed. “That’s just the problem,” I said. “He is smart. And he’s not getting the grades he should. I think it’s because he’s bored.”
“Not interested in what they’re teaching him?” Ryanne inquired. “I ge
t it. Smart kids never are.” She raised her brows. “Explains how I stayed interested all the way through school.”
“Oh, Ryanne,” I giggled, jostling her playfully. “Stop it. You know you’re smart.”
“I can be,” Ryanne agreed. “So? What’s the plan with Joshua?”
I frowned. “I want to move him to advanced class. But we have to wait until he finishes this year. I want him to feel settled for just once. I really don’t know what to do!”
I felt awful. My son, Joshua, was my world. Born under the worst circumstances, he couldn’t have been more in contrast with his own arrival. Joshua was everything; smart, good-looking, sporty. He was also naturally sweet-natured and kind. At the moment, though, he was cranky and obstructive. I understood why now.
“What, Hayley?” Ryanne asked, as I sniffed.
“I’ve screwed him over,” I said. “My son, I mean,” I whispered. “All these relocations. No wonder the poor kid’s stressed. He’s skipped schoolwork, and repeated things; he must hate me.”
Ryanne gripped my shoulders, spinning me to look at her. “Hayley Jones! Stop that right now. You are the center of that kid’s world. You need to know that, or you’ll end up hurting the both of you. Joshua loves you, and you love him. He’s going to be just fine.”
I hung my head. “I guess,” I said softly.
“I know so,” Ryanne said stiffly. “Now, I’d better take Table Five their toast.”
She marched out of the kitchen, leaving me at the counter ready to burst into tears.
She doesn’t understand, I thought miserably. How could she?
I was consumed with guilt for my son. Born when I was only twenty, he was seven now – a bright, wonderful boy. We’d had the most unconventional, unstable life, and it was all my fault.
What about Joel? An inner voice asked. Where’s his share of the blame?
Joel was Josh’s father. I had never thought about why I never blamed him because well, quite frankly, I didn’t expect any better from him. He’d put me through hell and I didn’t want him near my son, which was why we had to keep moving.
“Hayley!” Morgan called. “Can you handle Table Six? Please? I’ve got three tables already.”
She gave me a meaningful glance, as if she thought I was slacking off. I closed my green eyes a long moment and tried not to feel angry.
“Good morning!” I said to the family group at Table Six, slapping on a falsely bright tone. At that moment, my eyes swiveled to the door and my jaw nearly dropped.
A man had just walked in. Six foot six and built like something out of a movie, with auburn hair and the most stunning jaw I had ever seen. The rest of him was stunning, too. Abs like rocks, arms like girders, and a pair of blue eyes with long lashes that stared at me.
“Um,” I said.
“A cappuccino and a muffin, please. Blueberry. And hold the butter, please.”
“Two teas,” another voice spoke up.
“A breakfast sandwich.”
“A latte.”
“A croissant, warmed up, please. And could you bring jam with it?”
“A scone.”
“Um, right, right.” I got the order scribbled, glanced at Table Two, and went toward the kitchen. As I did, Prince Charming stared at me and caught my eye.
I went to the table like I was drawn by string. I stood in front of him, held my pen to my pad and waited.
“Hi,” he said with a grin.
“Oh! Hi!” I blinked. He was looking at me with an expectant smile. I went beet-red, feeling an utter fool.
“A double espresso, please,” he said. His big blue eyes smiled at me and I felt my heart jump.
“Sure,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. He was still looking at me and I could feel my toes tingle. “I didn’t sleep much last night,” he said, still grinning. “I need it.”
“Sure,” I said again like a complete idiot.
I stood where I was like I’d been planted in the floor, just looking at him. His smile lifted at the corners and I blinked, realizing what I was doing.
“Um, yeah. I’ll get that,” I said.
I hurried off, trying not to trip over my own feet. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d seen hot guys before. There was something about that one though that set a whole flurry of butterflies in my stomach.
Looking down the list of orders, I sprang into action at the coffee-machine. A latte. Check. Two teas. Got that. A cappuccino. Right on. And… and…
“Oh, shit.”
I hadn’t written down Dreamboat’s order. My mind was a whirling blank. In the midst of all the info from Table Six, my weary thoughts in the noise, and the distraction of his stunning presence, I couldn’t remember a thing.
“Damn.”
I closed my eyes for a minute, trying to think. A latte? No. A macchiato? No…Nothing so fancy. It was something simple, damn it!
I glanced out through the door and saw Table Six. The people were starting to get distracted, looking around. I loaded the tray, going past the bakery counter as I did.
“Sean? Two muffins, a croissant, and a scone, please? Blueberry,” I added, consulting my list. I managed it. If I could remember everything on the list, why didn’t I remember the order from Table Two?
I took the beverage tray to Table Six and rushed to the coffee-machine.
“Damn it! It was a coffee,” I decided. “A standard coffee.”
“Here you go,” I said, with a nervous grin.
“Uh, that’s not what I ordered,” he said, his once-friendly smile not so friendly anymore.
I felt my heart sink into my boot-tops. “Your coffee,” I whispered.
He pushed back the chair, and I saw those fine blue eyes narrow in irritation.
“I asked for a double espresso.” He closed his eyes, jaw working. “You know what, never mind.”
He stood, lifted his jacket off the chair and, to my complete astonishment, shouldered his way out.
I was still standing there, staring blankly, when my friend walked past.
“Hayley?” she asked.
I blinked at her and, still on autopilot, followed her into the kitchen.
“Holy shit!” she raised her brows, mouth in a quirked smile. “You know who that was?”
“Who?” I asked. “A complete asshole that stormed out because I made a mistake?” “Um, yeah that one!” she mimed a whistle. “That was Reid Collingwood!”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Is that supposed to mean something?” I said.
She laughed. “I’d say so! What, Morgan?” she called across the kitchen, to where our fellow-waitress gestured something to her. “Oh! Heck! I’m there now.”
I left Morgan and Ryanne talking, heading onto the floor to finish with Table Six. I tried not to let my annoyance at the arrogant mystery man cloud my day. Reid what? I thought to myself. I don’t remember. I didn’t care. Whoever he was or called himself, he was still an asshole.
I sniffed, surprised by how hurt and sad I felt. It was such a simple accident. I knew I was taking it too seriously. I had made the odd mistake before – admittedly not recently – and sometimes people were nice, and sometimes mean. I needed to put it in perspective. But I couldn’t.
Because I had not felt the way I had when What’s-His-Name had looked at me in a long damn time.
2
Reid
I walked out of the restaurant and down the pavement, swearing under my breath.
“Fucking coffee,” I muttered. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but I was spiraling. I could feel my heart pounding, a vein in my temple pulsing, and my legs just wanted to run. I knew what it was – I’d had this feeling before. I had probably expected too much of myself coming out this morning. I almost walked into a businessman hurrying down the sidewalk, twisted out of his way and then swore.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going!”
People turned and stared and I hurried on. I shouldn’t care what they thought. I didn’t care what t
hey thought. I didn’t care what anybody thought anymore.
I wanted to hit something. I wanted to break things. I needed to scream.
I reached my apartment block and slammed the front door, ran up the two flights of stairs without drawing a breath, flung the door of my apartment open and sat down heavily on the bed. With my fingers twined in my hair I covered my face with my hands and groaned.
“Damn it!”
I was so mad, so confused. I hated everything and everyone. I hated myself.
The dreams wouldn’t stop, and I didn’t know what to do anymore. Every time I lay in bed. Every time I got out of bed. Every time I shut my eyes, they were there. The men in my unit. Laughing, smiling. Dead.
“Joey. Bert. Art. Luke. Shane.” I paused. “DeShawn. Amery.”
The names were a prayer, an exorcism, a conjuring. The last two were the worst – it had taken ages to be able to say them even in my mind, never mind verbally. DeShawn, because of his big, innocent grin, Amery because of how close a friend he was. I whispered their names, almost like saying them could exorcise them from my mind. It wasn’t just them who haunted me, either. It was other boys, nameless faces. Men I’d killed.
Every time I shut my eyes, I saw their mangled bodies.
“Damn it,” I breathed. “Damn, damn, damn, damn!”
I was going to go crazy.
I had come back to my hometown of Westland, California, for the first time since my discharge in the winter. It was early summer now, and I had thought I was ready to see people I’d known again. To see mom again. But now I didn’t know if I was ready. I didn’t know if I would ever be ready.