Текст книги "Crave"
Автор книги: B.J. Harvey
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
As it always does, my mind starts to wander as I sit out on my balcony, watching a haze of fog blanket the bay.
Three months have passed since Graves was arrested. He is now incarcerated in San Quentin State Prison, awaiting trial. His lawyer is claiming insanity but the district attorney is rabidly steadfast in his assertion that Graves goes down, not only for Jodi’s murder, but also for the two construction worker deaths at the museum site.
The waterfront museum won’t officially open to the public for another three months, but there was an official ceremony held yesterday to unveil a plaque for the two men who were tragically killed.
Both of the men’s families were present, as were my parents and siblings, Lucia’s parents and Gino, who has fortunately thawed his opposition toward me, but has made it crystal clear I was on notice.
Lucia moved in the weekend after the showdown with Graves. For such a monumental moment in my life, it felt like a natural progression as we looked forward to the future.
Grant was still on the hunt for the next Mrs. Richardson, and a parade of women were tried and tested in a frequency only Grant could get away with. Having visited me many times at the office and seeing Grant in what she deemed was his ‘natural habitat,’ Lucia was stuck on the idea that Annie was Grant’s dream woman. She constantly brought up the subject with him, but Grant was in a deep state of denial over any connection he may or may not have had with our assistant.
I’ve pressed him about what might have gone on between them, but he always shuts the conversation down before it can begin, any hint of his normal joking disposition gone with a curt “Just drop it, Cal. She’s our employee. I’d never go there.”
Since we’ve been back together, not once have I wrapped my hands around Lucia’s throat. The compulsion to do so has been nonexistent since that night when it all went so wrong. I no longer crave that feeling, nor do I ever want to put us in such a perilous position again.
Our relationship has not faltered because of it. In fact, our connection is deeper and more engrained than ever, our love continuing to flourish and grow stronger as each day together passes.
Lucia told me one night a few months ago that she doesn’t fear me losing control like that again and suggested that she would be open to trying it once more, but when I’d steadfastly refused to even consider the idea, she’d explained, “It was a fixation borne from fascination and curiosity, Cal.”
“I shouldn’t have been curious about doing that to you.”
“And why not? Everyone has fantasies. You’re not the first man who has wanted to experiment, tried it, and had it go wrong.”
“Luce, I almost lost you. That’s the only damn thing that matters,” I’d replied tersely.
“Stop beating yourself up. I didn’t stop you. I didn’t want to stop you. I was into it as much as you were. I wanted it and I wanted it with you. Don’t you get that by now?”
Then she’d put her hand on my cheek in that way she loves to do, her eyes glistening with tears, and I’d felt something shift in my chest. I knew in that moment I would do anything for her, including moving past the guilt I still felt. Unable to contemplate whatever it would mean for our future, I’d pulled her into my lap so her legs straddled mine, and I’d kissed her. Hard at first, then easing back and taking it slow, our tongues rolling in languid strokes. And we’d sat there for what had seemed like hours, just kissing without a care in the world.
“I don’t need to try it again, Luce,” I’d said when we’d pulled apart.
“Then we won’t,” she’d replied, and that was the last time it had been mentioned.
Hearing footsteps from inside, I look over my shoulder to Lucia walking toward me wearing a black chemise nightshirt and a soft, sleepy smile. She looks like a wet dream and I grin at her knowing precisely what I’m going to do to her—and soon.
“Morning,” she says, reaching my side. Running her hand along my jaw, she tilts my head up and lowers hers down, placing a lingering kiss on my lips.
Walking around to the other side of the table, she nods to the open newspaper in my lap as she pours herself a coffee before sitting down. “Anything interesting?”
I smirk and shake my head. “Nothing in particular so far.”
“That’s a shame,” she murmurs quizzically, grabbing a bagel and smearing cream cheese around it.
Tilting my head, I raise an eyebrow at her. “What am I missing?” I ask.
Shaking her head, a knowing smile graces her lips as she bites into the bagel. Her eyes dance with amusement. “Keep reading,” she mumbles, nodding toward the paper.
“Okay . . .” I reply slowly. Returning my attention to the paper, I turn the page and stop when I see a large photo of Carmen Dallas on page five. Jerking my head up, my eyes narrow on Luce, who is now grinning widely at me.
“Let me read it to you,” she whispers.
Folding the paper in half, I hand it over to her and sit back to hear the story that has her acting so strangely. “Ms. Carmen Dallas’s position as reporter and columnist at the San Francisco Tribune has been terminated, effective immediately. A number of transgressions have been brought to the editor-in-chief’s attention which have tarnished the journalistic integrity of our publication. In particular, her connection to Gregory Graves, who is awaiting trial for the murder of three people and a number of other crimes all centered around renowned city architect Callum Alexander. Ms. Dallas has admitted to following Mr. Alexander and his partner, continued harassment of the pair, and the slander of Mr. Alexander’s character and reputation for nefarious means. The allegations made against Ms. Dallas have now been passed on to police and are being investigated. Ms. Dallas was unavailable for comment when contacted.”
My mouth drops open and I snap it shut, opening it again to say something but finding myself at a complete loss for words. Then, before I can process anything, Luce has dropped the newspaper on the table and jumped out of her seat, walking around the table. Without hesitation she climbs into my lap, her knees sliding down on either side of my hips as she loops her arms around my neck.
“She got what she deserved,” she whispers, leaning her body into mine and peppering kisses along my jaw. “She needed to pay for what she did. To us, to Jodi—to everyone.”
“What did you do, Luce?”
“I dealt with her, woman to woman.”
“Do I want to know what happened?”
“Probably better you don’t,” she murmurs against my lips.
“Okay.” I groan, her mouth trailing down to my neck.
“Cal?” she asks, her voice thick with arousal. One hand flexes on her hip. The other slides up over her ribs and back.
“Mm-hmm?” I reply mindlessly, distracted by the heat of her body and the feel of her warm lips tasting me.
Lifting her head to look at me, there’s a glint in her eye, warning me that whatever she’s about to say is not going to be insignificant in the least. Her hands run over my shoulders and move down to rest over my heart.
Leaning in close, her hands over my racing heart, her lips resting close to mine, I’m lost in everything that is Lucia. Our eyes lock together and she lowers her mouth to mine, our lips just touching as her fingers slowly run up my chest and come to a stop.
“What do you want, Cal?” Her breathing is fast and heavy, giving away how turned on she is.
“Whatever you want to give me,” I whisper against her lips.
Flexing her fingers, she glides her tongue along the seam of my mouth and runs a hand into my hair, tugging on the strands to get my attention.
She looks me straight in the eye, nose to nose, her lips curled into a wicked smile against mine. What she says next makes my heart stop dead in my chest.
“Just because you won’t do it to me doesn’t mean I can’t do it to you.”
This book has been a labor of love for two years. It has been picked up and put back down again so many times it’s not funny. It challenged me, lifted me, turned me inside out and back again, but it was a book that needed to be finished because Callum and Lucia’s story needed to be told.
There are so many people to thank for helping me finish this beast but to name a few;
Lauren, Simone, Tami, Kate, Tarsh, Abbey, Kristy, Chelle, Skyla, Lila, Maleesha, Rachel, Jenny, Meagan, and Jennifer.
And to everyone who has every started something they desperately believe in and have contemplated giving up on it over and over again, please don’t give up. Please keep trying and trying until there is nothing left in you to try with.
Then try again.
BJ Harvey is the USA Today Bestselling Author of ten novels.
She writes contemporary romance, romantic comedy, and romantic suspense.
An avid music fan, you will always find her with headphones on while writing, and the speakers blaring the rest of the time. She’s a wife, a mom to two beautiful girls, and when she’s not writing—she’s reading.
BJ resides with her family in what she considers the best country in the world—New Zealand.
She describes her writing as a little swoon, a lot of heat, a bit of drama and a whole lot of love.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/bjharveyauthor
Twitter: @bjharveyauthor
Instagram: bjharvs
Blog: bjharveyauthor.blogspot.com
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Sign up for her mailing list here: http://eepurl.com/MfpyP
Bliss Series
Temporary Bliss (Bliss #1)
True Bliss (Bliss #2)
Blissful Surrender (Bliss #3)
Permanent Bliss (Bliss #4)
Finding Bliss (Bliss #5)
Holiday Romance
Stranded (Christmas novella with a Bliss Series connection)
Romance Suspense
Lost in Distraction (Lost #1)
Lost For You (Lost #2)
Lost Without You (Lost #3)
Erotic Suspense—Standalone
Crave
Table of Contents
Dedication
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
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Author Links
Books by B.J. Harvey
