

The Next Logical Step (A Contemporary Short Story) By Elijana Kindel
Note From Elijana
Emily's Affair Excerpt
Manipulating the Masters---Book One: Lucien Excerpt

THE NEXT LOGICAL STEP
(A Contemporary Romance Short Story)
By
Elijana Kindel
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author's imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual living or dead person is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in electronic or printed form without permission.
The Next Logical Step. First Edition.
Copyright 2011 Elijana Kindel
All rights reserved.
"Marriage is the next logical step."
"For whom?" Ben asked.
"For us."
"No, it isn't."
"Pardon me?" Lexi stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and dragged Ben to a halt next to her.
Ben glanced down at Lexi and nearly groaned out loud. She had that look on her face. It was the same look that had put a kink in his plans with her last Saturday. Damn. He knew he should have objected when she'd suggested they walk to the restaurant rather than drive. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd regret this decision later, but he was starving. "No it isn't." He squeezed her hand and tugged her into resuming their trek towards the restaurant. "Moving in together is the next logical step."
"For whom?"
"For us."
She let out a harrumph, but kept up with him.
Ben maneuvered them around a passing couple and tried to pick up the pace. "Honey, marriage isn't all it's cracked up to be."
"Oh, you've been married before?"
He almost smiled at the sarcasm in her voice. "You know I haven't."
"Then how do you know it isn't all it's cracked up to be?"
"Because it isn't. Hell, just look at the couples we know who took your next logical step." Ben ticked off names on his left hand. "John and Denise. They dated for a while, got married, then divorced six months later. If they'd followed my advice, then they'd have figured it out sooner, rather than later, that it wouldn't work."
Lexi gave him a look that suggested he had no idea what he was talking about. "Ben, the reason Denise married John was stupid." She shook her head. "For goodness' sake, everyone knows that you don't get married for the tax benefits and only the tax benefits."
"Maybe, but what about Tim and Sara?"
"Oh, puhleeze. They got married because Sara was pregnant. Another bad reason."
Ben sent her a questioning look. "Bad reason?"
"Yes. The sole reason they got married was for the sake of the baby. And look at them now. They're miserable and the poor child has two parents who can't stand to be in the same room with each other."
"Lexi, what were they supposed to do? Sara was pregnant."
She sighed and gave him one of those looks that implied he was clueless. "Look, I understand why they got married, but I don't agree with it. It's just my opinion that if two people can't tolerate each other outside of the bedroom, then they shouldn't get married."
"But what about the kid?"
"What's the difference between not getting married because of pregnancy and divorcing a year after the baby is born?"
"Tim and Sara are getting a divorce?"
Lexi nodded. "Sara called me yesterday and invited me to her 'Separation Party'. She said that it was either divorce Tim or kill him."
Ben shook his head. "Poor kid. It sucks growing up with divorced parents. You don't know how lucky you had it, honey."
"I know," she said softly. "But my parents married for the right reasons. I wasn't born until exactly nine months after the wedding."
"Like I said, you were lucky." They came to a crosswalk and waited in silence for the light to change. As soon as they crossed the street, Ben said, "Jim and Tina."
"What?"
"Jim and Tina. What about their marriage?"
Lexi snorted, but kept pace with him. "They were drunk, in lust, and in Vegas. A recipe for disaster from the start. When the sex started to wane, Tina found another source."
"She did?"
Lexi nodded. "She did."
"So did Jim." Ben shook his head. "What about Vince and Helen?"
Lexi shrugged. "Helen's mother didn't like Vince."
Ben slowed them down as an elderly couple passed in front of them. "What kind of reason is that?"
"A powerful one considering that Helen's mother lived across the street."
He stared at her hard for a minute as he digested her words. Thank God, Lexi's parents lived out in the country and had their own lives. Helen's obsession with her mother sounded... painfully invasive. No wonder Vince had plans to move as far away from the area as possible. Which reminded him of a text message he'd received earlier. "Bill and Sheila?"
"Sheila found out that Bill preferred men to women and only married her to keep his secret from his family." He must have had a look of pure horror on his face, because Lexi laughed and gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. "We could play this game all day."
Ben heard a chuckle and glanced over his shoulder at the elderly couple who'd just past them. It was like looking at Lexi and himself in fifty years. Which probably explained why the older gentleman sent Ben a commiserating look.
Now that was disturbing.
A few more steps and Ben recovered. Slightly. "My point exactly," he mumbled then cleared his throat. "There are too many unknowns in the beginnings of any relationship. That's why it's better if we live together first, then---"
"No, it isn't," Lexi fired back. "And besides, my father would kill me if I let you move in without---"
"Honey, there's no difference between living together and marriage."
"Yes, there is." Lexi yanked herself away from him and stomped her foot in exasperation. "Marriage is about commitment. It's a statement. If you marry me, then you are telling everyone who cares to listen that you chose me. That you want to spend the rest of your life with me."
He smiled at her. "You are beautiful when you're angry."
"Benjamin," she growled in warning.
Ben chuckled and, taking her hand, pulled her into his arms. He dropped a kiss on the top of her silky blonde head, then pulled back to look into her baby blues. "Lexi, my sweet beautiful nymph, you know you are the only woman I want to spend the rest of my life with."
She relaxed against and him and he watched as her annoyance melted away to be replaced with genuine confusion. "Then why are you so against marriage?"
"Because marriage has a way of changing a relationship." Ben trailed a finger down her cheek and gazed at her with a look that he hoped like hell would get him out of the doghouse and to the restaurant faster. "All the couples we know who married---with the exception of your parents--- ended up in divorce court."
"But that won't happen to us," she whispered.
"Bill and Sheila said the same thing after John and Denise," he replied just as softly.
She tilted her head to the side and he could have sworn he heard her mind whirling. "Why do you always put his name first?"
"What?"
"His name: Bill and Sheila, Vince and Helen, Jim and Tina, Tim and Sara, John and Denise. Why not Sheila and Bill?"
"Because that's the way it's done," he said.
"Why?"
"Because... the Mr. and Mrs. thing."
"What kind of answer is that?"
"It's a good answer and the only one you're gonna get. Come on. I'm starving." Ben wrapped an arm around her and started walking for the restaurant. "Why did Sheila and Bill break up?"
Lexi leaned her head against him. "Because Bill was allergic to Sheila's cats and Sheila refused to get rid of the cats."
He laughed. "Are you serious?"
"Yep."
"Was that the only reason?"
She sighed. "No. Sheila wouldn't get rid of the cats because she needed them as an excuse to visit the vet." Ben groaned and Lexi continued, "After she divorced Bill, the affair with the vet crumbled and she got rid of the cats. So now she doesn't have a husband, a lover, or a cat."
They rounded a corner and started down the last block to the restaurant.
"Ben?"
"Hmm?"
"You do realize that I cannot move in with you."
"I know. I'll move in with you. Your place is bigger," Ben said.
"No. You can't move in with me."
He glanced at her. "Why not?"
"Because I don't want to be a roommate. I want to be a wife."
"Lexi, you won't be a roommate."
She took that in stride, and then said, "All right. I don't want to be a mistress."
"Lexi---"
"I can't, Ben. I won't."
"Lexi," he growled. "You won't be a mistress."
"There are plenty of men who would jump at the chance to marry me."
He tensed, but kept silent. This was a test. It had to be. But just to be sure... Ben waited until they were almost in front of the restaurant, then turned and backed her up against the brick wall. "Who? Give me their names and I'll kill them."
Lexi smiled and brushed a strand back from his forehead. "You know there are no names to give." Then she stretched up to give him an entirely too soft and too quick kiss on his cheek.
"There better not be." He slid a hand up her side, felt her shiver, then cupped the back of her neck and urged her closer. "Get over here, woman, and give me a real kiss."
Lexi did, then pulled back, leaving him weak kneed and less interested in making their dinner reservation. But that was nothing new. Lexi could make him feel that way with a look, a word, or a gesture.
She leaned into him and pressed her lips to the hollow at the base of his throat. "You know, you're kind of sexy when you switch into Neanderthal mode."
He chuckled and smoothed his hand down her back. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She lifted her head and gave him her best smile.
Which he rewarded with another kiss. "Honey, if you keep teasing me like this we'll never make our reservations."
She purred and looped her arms around his neck. "I don't mind if you don't."
"Insatiable," he whispered against her lips. "But you're not getting any until after dinner." He set her away from him and drew in a deep breath. "Better yet, we'll order it to-go, then catch a cab back to the house." He took her hand and dragged her down the street.
Lexi laid her head against his arm. "Do you want children?"
"What kind of question is that," he muttered.
"It's a legitimate question." She raised her head. "Well, do you?"
He was silent for a long minute. "Do you?"
"Yes, but---"
"How many," Ben interrupted.
"Two-point-five rounded up."
He laughed softly. "Three. In any particular order?"
"Boy, boy, girl. But I'm flexible."
"She's flexible," he repeated. "I suppose you've already picked out their names."
"Just the first boy's name. He'll be named after his father." She heaved a dramatic sigh and looked away from him just as a guy strolled by. "Whoever that maybe."
Ben gave her a small shake. "Lexi, you know who it will be."
"Do I?" She turned back and looked up at him. "Ben, I'm not supposed to have children until after I'm married and if you don't marry me...," she trailed off with a helpless shrug.
"Lexi." Ben stopped and slowly drew her around to face him. "Are you saying that you'd leave me if I don't marry you?"
Her chin lifted a notch. "I would, but I wouldn't want to."
He narrowed his eyes. "You'd find someone else," he stated rather than asked.
"I... would." Her voice cracked.
Hearing her say that hurt more than he'd expected. "I thought you loved me."
"I do," she said in a rush. "But, Ben, I---"
"No." He shook his head when she drew in a breath to speak. "Let me get this straight. You love me and if I don't marry you, you'll find someone else?"
"Ben, I---"
"Yes or no, Lexi."
"I... yes." She looked miserable and on the verge of tears.
Damn. He hadn't expected that. Ben ran a hand through his hair and gazed at her for a long, hard minute. He willed his mind to ignore the hunger pains and figure out what the hell his woman was looking for, because after eight months of dating Lexi he knew there had to be a reason for this absurd, back-ass-wards discussion. She always had a reason. Granted it wasn't always a logical reason that made sense to him, but there always was a reason.
But why start this discussion now? Typically Lexi started relationship discussions after she'd had her way with him and he was too relaxed and sated to argue with her. He knew she was happy. Hell, he'd learned the hard way months ago how to tell when his woman was displeased with him. So he was certain Lexi wouldn't leave him. At least, he was almost absolutely positive she wouldn't. "He won't be as wonderful as me."
"Who?"
"Him. Your husband."
"Ben, no man is as wonderful as you."
"Then why would you leave me," he demanded in a harsher voice than he'd meant.
Her bottom lip quivered. "Be... because I love you," she whispered.
"Honey, that makes no sense whatsoever. You'd leave me because you love me?"
Lexi's back went stiff. "Benjamin."
He fell back a step. "Oh lord, I've done gone and made her mad."
"You have made me mad." She advanced on him and pounded a forefinger into his chest. "Why won't you marry me? Am I not good enough for you to---"
"Enough." He caught her hand and forced her palm flat over his heart. "Lexi, when I'm ready to marry, you're the only woman I'd even consider asking."
"I am?" Her anger floated away with the warm breeze flowing up from the river and Ben finally found himself relaxing some.
"You are." He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. "The only one."
"Why would you ask me?"
"You know why."
"Do I? Do you love me?"
"You know I do," he said softly and meant every word of it.
"Then say it."
"I love you." He kissed her once for good measure, then bent down and looked her in the eye. "Now, can we go?"
She harrumphed. "You don't sound like you love me." Lexi yanked her hand from his and marched the last few feet toward the restaurant.
"Lexi," Ben called.
"Well, you don't. You sound mad. I don't want you to say you love me when you're mad."
"Woman, I am not mad." He grabbed her hand and slowed her pace. "I'm annoyed, because we've turned a ten minute walk into a thirty minute hike."
"So sorry." She sniffled and jerked out of his grasp. "Don't want to be late for your precious reservation, do we?"
"Lexi, don't be that way. Please, honey, just calm down."
"I'll be whatever way I want to be."
Ben had no idea what they were fighting over, but he knew she was mad. Spitting mad. "Lexi." He caught up to her outside the restaurant and spun her into his arms. "Honey, this... why are you crying?"
"I am not crying."
He tilted her chin up. "Why are you crying?"
She swallowed hard and said, "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because the man I love won't marry me and...." She trailed off with a watery sniffle.
A car pulled up to the curb and Ben ignored it. "And what?"
Her eyes slid to him as she started to speak, then darted away. "And I'm... nothing."
A car door opened and closed.
"You're what? Tell me, Lexi."
She licked her lips, then opened her mouth and Ben had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what she was going to tell him. But she never got the chance.
"Alexandra," a female voice called from behind them. Ben didn't need to look over his shoulder to know who it was. He'd recognize Kim Dawson and her gossip spreading voice anywhere in this town. "So what was the result of the test? Yay or nay?"
Lexi looked up at him and, staring him dead in the eyes, said, "Yay."
Ben thanked Kim and Andy for the ride back to Lexi's house, then closed the car door and watched them drive off into the night. He turned around and found Lexi standing on the porch steps, fumbling with the zipper on her jacket and gnawing on her bottom lip.
"Ben, are you very mad?"
Mad? Hell, yes. Along with a dozen or so other emotions that had ruined what should have been an excellent steak dinner at his favorite restaurant. "When were you going to tell me?"
She studied the tips of her shoes. "After you proposed."
He should have known. "You told Kim and Andy before me." That was what bothered him the most. At least that's what he kept telling himself. He stalked up the stairs and jammed the key into the lock, then shoved open the door. "Inside. Now."
"Ben, I---"
"You'd rather discuss this on the porch?"
She raced past him and into the house.
He slammed the door shut, then locked them in for the night. He found her standing in the middle of living room. "Sit down."
"Ben, let me---" Lexi broke off as he touched his forehead and fought to control his rising ire.
"Lexi," he started in a calm, reasonable tone. "I should have been the first to know. You should have told me when you first suspected."
"Ben, I---"
"When did you suspect?"
She looked up at him with luminous blue eyes. "Last month."
His control slipped a notch. "Last month," he roared.
"Well," she hedged, moving to put the couch between them. "I thought I was just skipping that one and---"
"Skipping that one?"
"It happens sometimes."
He was speechless.
"I thought I worried it away."
"Worried it away," he choked out.
"Mama said that stress can sometimes---"
Then he thought better of it and held up his hand. "No. I don't even want to know." He drew in a deep breath and fought to regain control. "Lexi, why didn't you tell me when you suspected?"
She bit her lip. "Because... I didn't want you to worry when there might not have been anything to worry about."
"Lexi---"
"Ben, I took a home test and it was negative. Then when I didn't... this month, I went to the doctor and, well, Kim was there and she overheard the nurse giving me directions for the test and I would have told you first." Her words tumbled one over the other and she finished in a breathless rush.
He stared at her, trying to digest her words. "When?"
"After you proposed," she mumbled.
"After I proposed," he repeated wondering if this would ever make any sense to him.
"Yes."
Ben gave up trying to make sense out of her words. He sat down on the couch and held out a hand for her to join him. "Come here. Please."
Lexi took his hand and sat next to him. "Ben?"
He shook his head. "Honey, what would you have done if I hadn't proposed?"
"I... I don't know. I guess I never thought you wouldn't."
"And since I didn't, you weren't going to tell me." He closed his eyes and leaned back. "Lexi, you're pregnant."
"Almost three months."
He groaned. He should have known she wouldn't be done surprising him. She'd been throwing him curve balls since the minute he laid eyes on her eight months ago. But this particular curve ball had him on his ass. This definitely put a kink in his plans. More than a kink. Lexi was pregnant. He needed to think and plan his next step, but... what was there to plan? Lexi was pregnant. The baby was his. He loved her. She loved him. They had to get married.
"Ben?"
"Hmm?" They'd have to trade in Lexi's Miata for something bigger. Which was fine with him, since he hated banging his head against the roof every time he got into the coffin on wheels.
"Are you mad?"
And they'd have to find a--- "Mad?" Ben looked at her and read the apprehension in her features. "Honey, I can't be mad when I got you into this."
"Then you're not upset with me?"
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, then rested his cheek on her soft blonde hair. "I'm upset that you didn't tell me when you first suspected, but... I suppose under the circumstances I can forgive you."
She relaxed into him. "I was afraid you wouldn't take it well."
He pressed a kiss to her temple. "How are you taking it?"
"Me? Oh, I'm all right. A bit scared, but I'm hanging in there."
"There's nothing to be scared of. We're in this together. I'll take care of everything, you just concentrate on...," he trailed off as the weight of the situation sank in and he laid a hand on her flat stomach. "Lexi, we're gonna be parents."
She nodded.
"I don't know how to be a parent," he muttered.
"Neither do I, but they have plenty of how-to-books at the bookstore." There was a smile in her voice as she patted his stomach and said, "We'll be fine, Daddy."
"Daddy." He chuckled. "I didn't expect to be a daddy this soon, but... you're gonna be one helluva sexy mama."
"Benjamin," she cried on a laugh.
"Woman, I love it when you say my name like that." He propped his feet up on the ottoman. "Makes me go tingly all over."
"Oh, stop. You're the one who makes me go all tingly."
"Speaking of being all tingly." He shifted and draped her across his lap, cradling her in his arms. "I hope you like it, because I plan on keeping you that way for the rest of your life."
"You do?" She threaded her fingers through his hair and he shivered.
"I do." He stole a quick, hard kiss. "Did you have your heart set on a big wedding? I don't mind big, but you better make it quick. I have a feeling Junior won't wait long to let everyone know he's on his way."
"Wedding?" She blinked. "Not because I'm pregnant."
"What?"
"I said, we're not getting married because I'm pregnant." Lexi wriggled out of his arms and sat up.
"Yes, we are," he told her.
"No, we're not."
"Yes, we---"
"Tim and Sara," she interrupted.
Ben gripped his forehead and struggled to follow her train of thought. He failed miserably. "What about Tim and Sara?"
"They got married because Sara was pregnant."
"So?"
She folded her arms over her chest and the lift of her chin was stubborn and determined. "Ben, pregnancy is not a sound reason for marriage."
He thought about her words for two seconds, then said, "It's not a reason. It's a catalyst."
"I'm not marrying you."
"Yes, you are."
"No-I-am-not." She lurched to her feet and marched out of the room.
Ben stopped himself before he ripped out all his hair. "I'll be insane by midnight," he muttered to himself, then rose from the couch. He walked into the bedroom as she was carrying a towel to the bathroom. "Lexi, there are only two similarities between our relationship and Tim and Sara's."
She froze and looked askance at him.
"Number one is that you're pregnant. Number two is that we're getting married."
"Not because I'm---"
He held up a hand, silencing her. "We're getting married because we're in love and it's the right thing to do."
"Right thing to do? The right thing for who? You said earlier that the next logical step was for us to move in together. Not marriage."
He lost his tenuous hold on calm and rational. "Would you rather we live together? How do you think your father would react? And imagine how happy he'll be when Junior comes along and---"
Her shoulders fell. "Ben, two hours ago marriage was not the next logical step for you. What between now and then has changed?"
He started to mention the pregnancy, but then another thought occurred to him. "I didn't know that you'd leave me if I didn't marry you."
If the look on her face was anything to go by, Ben had finally said the right thing.
She exhaled on a shaky breath and whispered, "You didn't?"
"I didn't." He covered the distance separating them and took the towel from her, then led her to the bed.
"Ben?"
"Sit." She did and he went down on one knee in front of her. "I'm not exactly prepared to do this and you'll probably make me do it again when I get the ring."
Her laugh was soft and sweet. "I don't need a ring," she whispered.
"But you'll get one." He picked up her left hand and cradled it in his, then looked up and met her tear filled eyes. "You mean everything to me, Lexi."
She swallowed as tears hung on her lashes.
"The first time I saw you, I knew you were the one."
"Oh, Ben," she breathed.
He bowed his head over her hand. "I know I don't tell you how I feel as much as you'd like to hear. I don't always call when I'm working late or bring you flowers when it's not your birthday, but...," he raised his head and continued, "I do love you."
She bit her bottom lip and somehow he found the courage to continue..
He laid his other hand on her stomach. "Two hours ago, I didn't know about this. Honey, rushing into marriage wasn't my plan. I wanted to give you time so that later on there'd be... no regrets. No divorce. This---our child---is not a reason, but a catalyst. Tell me you understand."
"I... I do." Her voice cracked as she covered his hand with her own.
"Then you'll marry me?"
"I will."
Ben grinned. "Good. Now tell me you love me, then let's go to bed."
A long time later, Lexi stirred underneath the rumpled bed sheets and turned over on her side to face him. "Ben?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you asleep?"
He groaned and reached for her, dragging her into his arms. "The answer is yes. Now, go to sleep."
She laughed and snuggled against his chest. "Don't you want to hear the question first?"
"If I must. What boon does my lady require this time?"
"Instead of trading in my Miata, I think we'd get a better deal---"
"Uh-uh. No way. Forget it. I am not giving up my truck."
"But you already said yes."
"I changed my mind. Now, go to sleep."
Lexi sighed and he knew she'd try again tomorrow. "It won't work," he said after a few minutes.
He felt her smile against him and every cell in his body went on alert.
"The Miata's going." To his own ears, he sounded slightly less sure of himself.
Lexi snuggled closer and played with the soft hair on his chest. "Yes, dear. Whatever you say, dear."
Ben looked at her, then his head fell back on the pillow and he groaned. "Woman, you're going to spend the rest of your life driving me insane. Aren't you?"
Lexi giggled. "Why, pookie, whatever gave you that impression?"
Thirteen months later...
Ben smiled as his almost seven-month old daughter shifted against his shoulder. His little princess was out cold. He glanced at his wife, who looked like she was ready to doze off any second now. Ben draped his arm around Lexi's shoulders. "Next time, we drive."
Lexi yawned. "I can make it to the house, but you're carrying me up the steps."
"Yes, ma'am." He chuckled and guided her across the street.
"Ben?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you happy?"
"What kind of question is that to ask on our first anniversary?"
Lexi's head came up and she looked as beautiful as she did exhausted. "A legitimate one. Are you happy?"
"How can I not be?" He hugged her close and she leaned heavily on him as they walked up the last block to the house. "I've got you and Lizzie and that's all I need."
"Oh." Her head fell to his chest, but her feet kept walking.
"Lexi?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you happy?"
"Now what kind of question is that to ask on our one year anniversary?" she mumbled.
"A legitimate one."
Lexi sighed and straightened. "I am happy."
"Good. Glad to hear it." The house was in sight and Ben concentrated on getting them to the porch.
"Well?" Lexi demanded after three seconds of silence.
"Well what?"
"Are you going to ask what's bothering me?"
Ben barely suppressed a groan. "Do I have to?"
"Yes," she answered in a belligerent tone.
"Lexi, my love, is something bothering you?"
"No," she replied in a sweet voice.
Ben winced. They really had to stop walking to the restaurant. Next time they would drive the ten minutes and fight for parking. It'd be worth it to avoid this kind of aggravation. "Look, honey, we're home."
Lexi folded her arms across her chest and stomped up the porch steps.
Ben fished the keys out of his pocket and opened the door. "After you, my sweet, lovely, beautiful... what did I do this time?"
"Nothing." Lexi sailed past him into the house. "You did absolutely nothing wrong, Benjamin."
Ben grit his teeth and followed her into the house. "Lexi, honey, please tell me what's bothering you."
She paced in front of him. "Nothing is bothering me. Well, not really anything. It's just that, well...," she trailed off.
"Take your time. I'll just go put Lizzie down and when I get back you can tell me---"
"I don't want to go back to work," she blurted out.
"Okay." Ben blinked and a small portion of his confusion dissipated. "You want to stay at home with Lizzie and that's fine with me."
"That's it? You're fine with it?"
Ben frowned. "Honey, are you trying to pick a fight with me?"
"No. Why would I do a foolish thing like that?" She sat down only to stand back up. "Why do I have to make everything so difficult for myself," she muttered.
"I don't know, but you're starting to scare me." And that was putting it mildly. He was terrified. He wasn't sure if wanted to know what it was that had Lexi this anxious. But he had to know. Ben reached out and caught her hand. It was ice cold. "Honey, if you're not happy, then---"
Her head snapped up. "I am happy."
"Then what's...?" And that's when it hit him. "You're not. Are you? Please tell me you're not. It's too soon. I had plans." Plans on buying a truck to replace the one he'd traded in on the minivan of her dreams. "Please, Lexi, tell me you're not pregnant."
"I can't, but don't worry I'm only a little pregnant. And then some."
"A little? Lexi, there is no such thing as a little pregnant. Either you are or you aren't." His brain slowly registered the rest of her words and something inside him snapped.
He glanced at his watch. If he left right now he'd still have enough time to make it down to the car dealership and buy the truck he'd been eyeing for the past month. Because he knew that if what he suspected she was going to say was said... he'd wind up spending the rest of his life driving that damn Miata.
Ben held up a hand as Lexi started to speak. "I don't want to know. Not right now." He turned and marched to his daughter's room. After he'd tucked his princess in bed for the night, he went back out to the living room and scooped his wife up into his arms.
"Ben," Lexi squealed.
He gave her a swift hard kiss, and then started off for their bedroom. "Honey, I love you and you need to rest. After I get back, then you can tell me what you need to tell me." He eased her down on the bed, quickly stripped her down, and tucked her in under the covers. "I'll be back. Right after I take care of something." One more kiss and he was heading to the door.
Lexi's laugh followed him as he fled the room.
His hand was on the door, when he heard, "Whatever you do, make sure you've got enough room in the back of the truck for three-point-five children rounded up."
Three point... oh, God. Thud. His head hit the door. He was doomed. Ben closed his eyes and indulged in a round of self-pity. There was no way he could fit three point---gulp---five rounded up kids in the back of his dream truck. And there was no way he could continue driving that damned convertible out to the job sites. Hell, if Lexi continued to get pregnant while on birth control, they'd need a bus to hold their family.
That's when it hit him.
But if he got an SUV...? Yeah, if he got a sport utility vehicle with third row seats and a tow hitch then he'd be able to haul the stuff he needed, have enough room for the growing kids, and then... oh yeah, that'd so work.
Ben grinned and, after going back to Lexi to tell her the change in his plans, he was out the door. Somewhere on the drive to the car dealership, it occurred to him that while he'd been shocked stupid by his wife's announcement, it wasn't the end of the world. He'd recovered and they'd manage---hell, they'd do better than manage. They'd survive and succeed.
Granted, somewhere in the next six months they'd need to have that discussion about their next logical step being him getting a vasectomy. But, thankfully, that was later and this was now.
No, right now, he had to do what he needed to do. For the health and welfare of his family. And his own sanity. Because being married and having a family wasn't about sacrificing his personal dreams and freedoms. It was about expanding them to fit the current situation.
And so it came to pass that Ben went out that night and, with pure joy in his heart, traded in the Miata for the sport utility vehicle of his dreams. Because, really... after adding third row seats to hold the three point five kids rounded up and a tow hitch to satisfy his hauling needs... an SUV was almost a truck.
My Dear Readers, I hope you enjoyed Ben and Lexi's short story! I had a fun time playing with these characters. But, before I dash back to the keyboard to get back to work on my next story, I wanted to take a moment and share with you some of the background for The Next Logical Step.
In the Summer of 2011, I made the decision to take control of my writing career by going through some of the old stories on my hard drive and, after cleaning them up, began publishing them. You can probably imagine my surprise when I discovered just how many stories had been sitting around collecting dust that had serious potential. But what was even more interesting to me was my discovery of hidden doc files I found that contained my writing exercises.
I know, you read the phrase writing exercises and your mind went back to your school days and the mountains of homework that inevitably ended up in that 80 lbs. backpack that you have since sworn you'll never use again. (I'm with you there.) But my writing exercises weren't like that. No, what I actually used to do (back in the beginning of my writing adventure) was take an idea or concept and, opening my imagination up, let the characters (in my demented mind) show me how to craft a story or answer a question. Which is exactly what I did for Ben and Lexi's story.
According to my notes, this story came about because of a conversation that I had with a fellow writer about pregnancy being used as the primary plot motivator for two characters to get married. To be honest, I can actually see how both sides of the nay and yay argument could work for this type of plot. But given that I am at heart a true hopeless romantic---much like our dear Lexi is in this story---I decided to play with the question and see how characters with slightly different perspectives on the world would deal with the situation.
And yes, I thoroughly enjoyed writing Ben's confusion dealing with Lexi's stream of blonde consciousness. Because while her train of thought may not always be logical, the truth is that somewhere (buried deep, very deep) there is a thread of logic. Granted, it's her logic. But logic, nonetheless.
So on that note... I've got to get back to writing. I hope you enjoyed The Next Logical Step and---oh wait. I almost forgot. Silly me. But, (see me shrug), this is what happens when I'm in revision and edit land for two manuscripts at the same time.
For your reading entertainment (and because I'm all about making things as convenient as possible), I've added in two contemporary romance excerpts that I have that are available now (Emily's Affair) and coming soon (Manipulating the Masters Series---Book One: Lucien). I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them!
So until next time, My Dear Readers, take care and happy reading!
~Elijana
Lee Stafford was in heat and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.
By herself, that was. Lord knew she'd tried enough times that she was in imminent danger of never being able to walk right again. Let alone enter a church with her dignity intact.
Hell, as it was, Lee was exerting every ounce of willpower she possessed to put one 3-inch heel in front of the other and sashay her ass across the room to reach her mailbox. It wouldn't have been so bad if every step hadn't caused her thighs to slide together in that special way that jumpstarted the sexual revolution that'd begun the day she set eyes on the tall, lean Adonis inhabiting the condo across from hers.
The man was lethal.
And he knew it.
He didn't need to flaunt it. It was written in every move he made. It was both awe inspiring and frustrating as hell to know that, in all of her twenty-eight years, Lee had never come across a man who made faded jeans and a body hugging black t-shirt look sexier than homemade sin.
It had to be a crime to look that good in casual wear and ooze complete and total alpha-male-ness the way this man did.
He was definitely an alpha. A natural one at that.
Which, Lee groaned to herself, explained all too well why she was feeling the call of the wild.
As she continued across the polished mailroom floor to her box, Lee let loose her sexually repressed libido and let her imagination replay the fantasies that had her contemplating more than a hint of exhibitionism. She glided past the marble table situated between two overstuffed chairs in the middle of the room. Oh, the things she'd thought long and hard about doing to and with him on that table. On the floor. Against the wall of mailboxes.
Lee drew in a deep breath and relished the slide of fabric against her breasts. The things she needed and wanted to do with that man against the wall of mailboxes... like being pinned against the rows of mailboxes with him right behind her. Oh, God. She loved that fantasy. She'd imagined it enough times this month alone that she could see, hear, feel, and taste every toe curling second in excruciating detail.
He would ease up behind her and make his presence known with the sweet caress of his hot breath on the nape of her neck. Her eyes would drift shut and her body would sway back towards him. His breath would catch and she'd feel him drawing in her scent as if to memorize it and imprint it into his soul. The heat radiating from his front to her back... ohmiword, yes, she felt the heat of him pinning her to the wall of mailboxes. His hand and those long, tapered fingers with calluses in just the right places would brush against her and tease their way down the slide of her shoulder across her spine to the flare of her hip.
Oh God, she needed him to touch her. Badly. To knead her skin and continue his slow exploration of her backside. She wanted him to cup her rear with his other hand and slowly work his way up the slope of her back to the curve of her neck. Where he'd thread his fingers through her shoulder length blonde hair and nudge it out of his way. With one hand nestled on her hip and the other teasing the nape of her neck, his fingers would bring her to a slow, simmering boil.
His lips would brush the shell of her ear as he leaned in to whisper his intentions of taking her right there against the wall. He'd order her to touch herself and pleasure herself for him. He would watch and whisper suggestions that drove them both of out their minds. And when she was a flicker of a touch away from tumbling over the edge, he'd yank up the hem of her short skirt and, holding her by one shoulder, would shove her panties aside and drive into her with one... long... thick... powerful... thrust.
Lee shivered and groaned to herself. It had to be a sin to have an imagination like hers where with every step she could feel the hard, slick slide of his thrusts... timed to perfection with the single intent of showing her who was in control of this rodeo.
Oh, how she longed to top that man from the bottom. In front. Behind. Under. Over. Any and every way she could.
And she could do it, too. If she wanted to, because if there was one thing any businessman in the greater Washington DC area who'd done business with Lee-The-Barracuda-Stafford knew was that she was a master at making a man do whatever she wanted.
And she wanted this man.
Her neighbor.
Now.
Right here, in the mailroom of her condominium complex.
Oh yeah, it was good to be her. Because she knew exactly how she'd do it. Lee would let him take the lead and savor each and every hard stroke. She'd let the tension build until she sensed he would be as lost in the act as he wanted her to be. Then Lee would slowly---ever so slowly---turn her head and peek at him from the corner of her eye and then---
Oh. My. God.
He was there. In the flesh. In the mailroom. Behind her.
Jake Grayden managed---barely---to refrain from doing a small, but obligatory celebration dance. After two months of near misses, passing glimpses, and measly 'hello, beautiful's, the first phase of his campaign was a go. All the sleepless nights he'd spent constructing his plan were about to pay off. His strategy to engage in his first serious foray into the realms of sober dating was on track and---he glanced at his watch---right on schedule.
He and the newest tenant in the small condominium complex were about to accidentally meet at the mailboxes.
Jake slowed his approach to the mailroom and initiated a leisurely perusal of his target.
She wasn't tall, but that was fine. He wasn't particular about height. Although those three-inch heels she wore did wonderful---no, incredible---things to her legs. And those legs, he groaned to himself. They were tone and firm, moving like a well-oiled machine under stockings that begged to be peeled off her.
Jake hoped she wore a garter belt. She looked the type to wear a garter. She had to be. So that's where he would start. He'd slip his hand under her short, ass hugging skirt and tease the bare insides of her creamy thighs. His fingers would skirt the fringe of her panties, which he assumed to be cotton. Her back would arch and she would moan his name, then she'd dig her long, red polished nails into his shoulders. He would---while she panted for him, of course---unhook the garter and pretend to ponder the question of the century.
Leave the stockings on or peel them off her quivering body?
Peel 'em.
Jake walked around the polished table in the fancy, hotel lobby-ish, mail area and decided that the table would be as good a place as any to set her on and begin his exploration.
After peeling the stockings, he would---while kissing her senseless and wrapping her legs around his waist---carry her over to the table and let her rest that perfectly molded derriere. Next, he would need to hold her breasts in his hands. He needed that badly. She wasn't what he would consider well endowed, but she was definitely not flat as a board. Jake flexed his hand and imagined she would fit perfectly in his palm.
Yes, she would fit him perfectly.
Slowly, he would unbutton the silk blouse tucked into her skirt which was---at this particular moment in his overheated imagination---bunched around her slender waist. He'd caress her ample bosom through the sheer fabric of her bra and watch her go insane with passion in his arms. Her eyes would darken. Her breathing would increase. Her hips would grind against his erection that was, at this very moment, straining at his button fly to get a glimpse of its tormentor.
Down boy, he ordered silently.
A button threatened to give way. Lucky for Jake, there was more than one button holding ol' Johnny back.
To divert his musings, he glanced at her left hand. Jake smiled to himself, no ring. Each time he saw this mysterious new tenant, he checked her ring finger. After two-long-cold-shower-filled-months, he'd learned two things. She rarely wore jewelry and the effectiveness of cold showers was a myth.
Ol' Johnny demanded the return of the mental seduction and Jake gave in with good grace.
After removing her shirt during the exploration on the table, Jake would take a second or two to study the curve and slope of her throat. Anything that would allow him to taste the satiny skin of her neck. Man o' man, the lady had a great neck and the way she arched it when she flipped her long, blonde hair over her shoulder... sweet Heaven, have mercy on his poor, unworthy soul. The simple act stirred more hormones in his body than staring at a Playboy centerfold had when he was sixteen.
Jake was not ashamed of his reaction to this one woman. Not now. Not after two months of observing, planning, and wanting. At first, he'd been puzzled and slightly concerned. There was something about her that called to him on a primal level that he'd never imagined. She possessed an air of innocence and vulnerability that had him craving to play protective warrior to her image of sexy, confident princess. The bizarre part was that the protective instinct she invoked did not set off warning bells in his head.
In fact, he liked it.
He liked it so much that he was almost too damned aroused to care if the lady wanted a one night stand that would take a lifetime to recover from. It would, of course, be too bad for her if that was all she wanted. Because Jake was prepared. He had a contingency plan and he wasn't afraid to use it. After all, he'd gone without intimate female companionship for as long as he'd gone without drinking and, if he could handle almost five years of that, then he could handle playing the slow seduction game a little longer.
Bottom line was that this was his campaign and he intended to see it through to completion. Night after night after night.
Jake slowed his pace and ran his eyes up, then down the backside of his quarry, who was standing right where he wanted her. At her mailbox. He counted to himself: three, two,... one.
She glanced over her shoulder at him and---Jake groaned inwardly---her eyes, a deep blue color, rolled suggestively from the top of his damp hair to the tips of his boots and back up. A half smile hovered around her come-and-kiss-me-now-big-boy lips. She turned her back to him and pushed her key into the mailbox.
Jake halted behind her and, since she was in front of his mailbox, slid his hand around in front of her. "Pardon me." His voice was rough to his own ears.
Her head tilted to the side and she regarded him from the corner of her eyes. "Are you always this... eager to get your mail," she asked in a soft, husky voice. She made no move to slide out of his way.
Jake stepped in closer until her back nearly touched his straining front. He bent his head close to her neck and whispered, "Only for the last two months." He shoved the key into the mailbox, turned it, then pulled the small metal door open.
She did precisely what he expected, and wanted, her to do. She backed her tight body up and into him, then glanced down at the envelopes in his box. "Pretty postcard. Jacob."
"Jake." He brought his other hand around to help pull mail out of the box and touched the mail in her hands. He moved an envelope to get a better look at her name. "You smell like peaches. Emily."
"Lee." She shifted her weight between her legs and just about destroyed his sanity. Her bottom rubbed---make that massaged---his throbbing ego. "And... thank you. Jake."
"No, sweetheart, thank you," he nearly groaned out loud. When he opened his eyes, she was looking up at him.
"Did you... get what you came for?"
His gaze dropped to her mouth. "Not by a long shot."
"Then you'll just have to keep trying." The smile she gave him would have melted Antarctica. "Excuse me. Jake."
He removed his mail and raised his arms to allow her to slip past him. "Certainly. Emily."
She turned on one heel and gazed up at him with that sultry look which made his blood hot and thick. "Have a nice evening. Jake." She slid away from him. Her heels tapped quietly against the marble floor.
Jake turned and watched her sway towards the stairs. Man o' man, the lady could move. "It can't get much nicer."
She didn't look back. Not once. She walked with the confidence of a woman who knew what she wanted and always got what she wanted. If at that particular moment she had crooked her finger at him and sent him a come-hither look, he would have been helpless to deny her.
Emily disappeared behind the stairwell door and Jake released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He had to get his mind off the damned idea that had popped into his head. To run up to his place, grab a measuring cup, and knock on her door with the stupid line, "Can I borrow a cup of sugar?"
If life and Emily---he couldn't call her Lee, it was a boy's name---did things the way his mind imagined, then Emily would grab him by his shirt and drag him into her place, throw him down on the floor, then jump him.
Some things in life were unjustly cruel.
Possessing an overactive and intensely vivid imagination was one of them.
Jake took a deep breath and turned his attention to his mail. A postcard from his mother. He flipped it over and scanned the cryptic thanks for the vacation, having a great time, and don't worry got you the loudest Hawaiian shirt ever made.
His attention wavered from the postcard and drifted back to the stairwell.
Then you'll just have to keep trying, she'd said.
Jake tapped the mail thoughtfully against his palm. He probably wouldn't see her again until next Friday.
He grinned and pushed off from the wall.
Friday. Same time. Same place.

\*


I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into poor Emily's life.


Emily's Affair is available for purchase at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.


(With a lot of luck and some spare time, it will also be available at All Romance eBooks by the middle of September, 2011.)


For more information on any of my titles, please visit my website at:

Disbursal of the monies shall occur upon execution of a legal marriage between the borrower and a suitable female as defined herein.
"What the hell...?" Lucien Masters scowled and read aloud the next line from the contract. "The legal marriage shall last for a term of no less than five years?"
His grandfather chuckled. "My lawyer added that line. He's a pessimist."
Luc lowered the loan contract and glanced across the massive mahogany desk at his grandfather and namesake, Lucas Masters. It was just like his mother always said, looking at his grandfather was like looking at himself in fifty years. Bright green eyes similar to his own blue-green ones gazed back at him with stubborn determination. "This is a joke, right? Another attempt at getting back at me for not coming to work for you."
"No joke."
"Sure as hell could have fooled me." Luc flipped to the second page of the contract and scanned down to the middle of the page where the closing paragraph of the contract called for his signature.
"Son, I understand why you declined to come work for me. And now that I've had time to think about it, I've decided that you were right. We would have killed each other within the first week. We're just too much alike, you and me."
Luc thumped the page with his finger. "This... is absurd."
"You don't like it? Aw, I could have sworn that you would have---"
"Are you crazy?" Luc shook his head in disbelief. "Mom was right. You're losing it."
His grandfather laughed again and eased back in his leather chair. "I'm not senile yet, son. I assure you that everything in that contract is legal and binding."
"It doesn't matter what it is, because I'm not signing it." Luc tossed the contract onto the desk and glared at his grandfather. He would have to find another source for the capital he needed for his next investment, a little company named Intrinsic Inc., because he refused to sacrifice his personal freedom to appease his grandfather's twisted terms.
The only problem was... finding another source that would give him the money within two weeks and not ask a lot of questions.
"Aw, that's too bad." His grandfather picked up the contract and waved it in the air. "And here I thought you really wanted the money."
Damn. Luc was staring at the only source he knew of for a quick, generous, no questions asked loan. "Do you get some sort of perverse pleasure out of thwarting my every move?" His voice was thick with bitterness, twisted with sarcasm.
"No, but you do." His grandfather's smile disappeared. "You knew I wanted to take over Andersen Corporation and you deliberately interfered."
"I did not deliberately interfere. I agreed to restructure Andersen Corporation before you decided you wanted it. Besides, it isn't the company you want. It's the building."
"Dammit. That was before you reorganized it. Now I want all of it, but I'll have to pay more."
Luc rolled his eyes and struggled to control his temper. This was an old argument. Six months old to be exact. When he spoke, he did so deliberately, enunciating each word with clear, cold precision. "What you do to or with Andersen Corporation after I finish reorganizing the place is your business. I could not care less what you do to that company."
His grandfather drummed his fingers on the desk. "You could not care less, because... you've got something bigger and better lined up."
"If I do, it's no business of yours."
"I beg to differ. You're asking me for a hefty loan and I'm making it my business."
Luc met his grandfather's shrewd, green gaze. "Why? You've never made it your business in the past. Every loan I've ever taken from you has been repaid in full and ahead of schedule."
His grandfather waved aside Luc's comment. "I know you'll pay me back. That's not the point. What I want to know is why you need the loan."
"So that's what this is about. I get it now. If I tell you why I need the loan, you'll strike the marriage clause from the contract."
"I might decide to give you the money. If you tell me why you need it and give me a cut of whatever deal you're working."
Luc had heard that particular catch in his grandfather's voice before. "Forget it, Gramps. I'm not telling you."
"Now, why am I not surprised." His grandfather spread the contract on the desk and turned to the second page. "Do you or do you not want the loan?"
"Not like this." Luc pushed himself up from the leather chair, turned on his heel, and headed for the door.
Luc knew his grandfather well enough to know that if he told him why he wanted the loan that the old man would change his mind about offering it and step in to buy Intrinsic Inc. himself. And the whole point of getting the loan was so that Luc could buy the company and not have to depend on the family for anything.
Luc made a good living as a management consultant for companies all over the country, but he didn't want to make 'just' a good living.
He wanted to make an incredible living.
And if Gramps knew that Intrinsic Inc. was Luc's first stop on his train to billionaire-hood, then the old man wouldn't hesitate to sweep the rug out from underneath Luc's feet. Why? Because Lucas Masters liked to control people and the best way to do that was to manage the purse string. That was why Luc's mother and three older sisters were still living at home and depending on his grandfather for an allowance.
Luc didn't want that. He wanted to be self-sufficient and master of his own world. Intrinsic Inc. would give him all of that, because the little Texas company held a contract which owned all the rights to an ingenious engineer's designs for a better, faster, and revolutionary central processing unit---better known as a computer's CPU.
The current owner of Intrinsic Inc. didn't have a clue as to the potential of the CPU, but Luc and, more importantly, Luc's best friend did. His friend, Benajah Raine, had assured Luc that the CPU was a workable design that---once they had a viable prototype---would make enough money to keep Luc fat and happy for the rest of his life.
That's what Luc wanted.
"Lucien."
Luc paused, his hand on the doorknob, and waited for his grandfather to continue.
"I'll make a deal with you."
"I'm listening."
"Tell me why you need the loan and I'll give you the money."
Luc smirked and glanced over his shoulder. "I fell for that one when I was twelve. It took me a whole summer to buy back the bike which you so generously bought and leased to me. I've had nearly eighteen years to learn from my mistake." He opened the door.
"Son, if you walk through that door, I'll...," his grandfather trailed off with a thinly veiled threat.
Luc stopped. "You'll what?"
"Do what I've been itching to do all along."
Something in his grandfather's voice made Luc turn around. "Damn it all to hell." He slammed the door shut and strode towards the desk. "You know. Don't you?"
His grandfather smiled. "Well, that got your attention."
"Answer me," Luc growled.
The old man chuckled. "Son, this may be my last chance to yank your chain, so I figured... hell, I might as well make it a doozie." He picked up a pen and offered it to his grandson. "Walk out of this office without taking my loan and... well, I'll step in and add that little company, which you want so badly, to my empire."
Luc was seething. He couldn't speak. He needed to speak. Or rather, he had the uncontrollable urge to rant and rave. But he couldn't. The wily old bastard knew.
"I bet you're wondering how I knew, aren't ya?" His grandfather looked immensely pleased with himself.
Luc's fingers twitched and it took an incredible amount of willpower not to strangle the man who had helped his mother raise him after Luc's father had disappeared twenty-eight years ago with a buxom secretary.
"That engineer down at Intrinsic contacted Dwight Cassidy when he couldn't get his boss to pay attention to his idea. You remember Dwight, don't ya, son? He went to school with your friend, Benajah. Well, Dwight took one look at the schematics for that fancy CPU and introduced the engineer to Benny."
Luc dragged a hand through his hair. It was like a nightmare. A hellish nightmare. Any minute now, his assistant at Andersen Corporation, Elise Hamilton, would walk into Luc's office with her pretty blue eyes, perky smile, and take him to task for ruining her lunch hour with a mountain of revisions for his final report to Andersen's board of directors. Luc would give his soul to have Elise walk into his grandfather's high-rise building and take Luc by the hand, then lead him off to the sweet, innocent world she lived in. A world where grandfathers didn't play manipulative mind games. A place which was happy and giddy and... as sweet and innocent as Elise herself.
"You may be wondering why Dwight introduced him to Benny. Well, I'll tell ya." His grandfather was enjoying this too much. "Dwight's a busy man. Hell, he works for me and I pay him a lot of money to stay busy. So when he learned that Intrinsic Inc. owned the rights to that little CPU design, he didn't think twice about sending the engineer over to your friend's office.
"It wasn't until after Benny called Dwight for his opinion on the design that Dwight shuffled on up here for a good ass whippin'. But by the time Dwight confessed his sins to me, you were approaching me for a loan to buy the company." His grandfather's shoulders lifted in a Gaelic shrug as if to say, 'what could I do?'. "And as much as I like to outmaneuver the next guy, you are my grandson and I do love you. Dearly."
Luc nearly choked on his outrage. This was a hell of a way for his grandfather to show his affection.
"You're my pride and joy. I'd do just about anything for you. So, son, sign the contract and take the loan, or I'm gonna walk in and buy that company."
Luc's jaw throbbed with tension. He gave his grandfather a harsh look that Elise probably would have referred to as his patented Lucifer expression. The fierce stare may make his temporary assistant quake in her delicate, size six heels, but it did nothing to his grandfather. Nothing, but amuse the slick geezer.
Luc swallowed hard and forced his jaw to unlock. "There are only two good things which can come from this." He pulled his pen---which should be renamed from his lucky pen to his unlucky one---from his suit pocket, then yanked the cap off and prepared to sign the cursed agreement.
"Only two? Son, I'm envisioning a lot of good things."
"One is that I get Intrinsic." Luc gripped the pen and signed his name in an illegible scrawl to his copy of the contract.
"Yep, you sure do. I'm mighty proud of you for findin' this gem of a company. You're gonna make lots and lots of money."
Luc took a deep breath and penned his name on his grandfather's copy. "And the other is... when my mother and sisters hear of this contract, they will make your life hell. For the rest of your numbered days, my mother and my three sisters will---"
"Think again, son." His grandfather tapped his forefinger on the only paragraph in the middle of the second page. "That there is a privacy statement. If any party not directly mentioned in this contract hears of it before the execution of the legal marriage between the borrower and a suitable female, then... you don't get the loan."
"Son of a... dammit."
His grandfather grinned. "Which reminds me." He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a small blue velvet bag, then tossed it to Luc. "Inside there is your great-grandmother's ring. None of your sisters wanted it and your mother already had one, so maybe your bride will like it. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."
Luc ignored his grandfather's blatant dismissal and extracted a simple, white-gold diamond engagement ring from the velvet bag. He had less than two weeks to find a suitable female, finish the hellish job at Andersen Corporation, get married, and... get down to Texas to buy Intrinsic Inc..
Two weeks.
Damn.
Luc dropped the ring into the bag and pocketed it. He snatched up his copy of the contract, folded it up, and then stuffed it inside his suit jacket.
Where the hell am I going to find a wife?
Luc turned and strode from the office. He didn't have a girlfriend. He spent more time in the office tending to his ambition than he did on the dating scene. He stopped in front of the elevator and banged his fist into the down button. Hell, he hadn't been out on a date in... a painfully long time. Something that he was reminded of every workday when Elise would---
Elise.
Luc froze. Elise was the perfect solution to his problem. Hell, just the thought of her had his body tensing in anticipation. She could easily fulfill his requirements as a suitable female. She had all the qualifications. Elise was smart, sweet, sexy as hell, and... so pure that one part of him begged to corrupt her while the other part screamed to protect her. Until now, he'd allowed his protective instincts to dictate his actions.
But that could change. And more easily than he'd like to admit.
The elevator opened and Luc stepped inside, then pressed the button for the lobby
The longer he thought about it, the more he realized that what had stopped him from pursuing her on a more personal level had to do with his mantra of not mixing business with pleasure. Well, there was that and a healthy dose of bachelor-survival instincts kicking in to warn him that an affair with Elise would end in marriage.
But not just any marriage, Luc thought to himself as the elevator doors slid open and he started for the lobby doors. Elise was one of those women. The type who'd never say I do to any man unless he first offered her his mind, heart, soul, then body up on a silver platter. Which meant that Luc was doomed to spend the rest of his time at Andersen Corporation vacillating between Heaven and Hell and continuing to deny his attraction to Elise while enduring more than his fair share of sleepless nights, erotic dreams, cold showers, and empty releases.
Luc muttered a curse aimed directly at himself and shoved the front doors opened, then walked outside. The weather outside matched his mood as storm clouds rumbled overhead and the wind whipped through the trees.
Because as much as he'd like to ignore the truth and spend the rest of his afternoon entertaining visions of Elise splayed across his bed for his enjoyment, he couldn't. Dammit. Because he knew that the only way he'd ever be able to convince Elise to marry him for anything less that her idea of perfect harmony and bliss... would take more than Luc had to offer.
The sad truth was it'd require a miracle. Complete with a whopping dose of divine intervention. And considering that there'd been no divine interference available to save him from his grandfather's nefarious plans, then he seriously doubted he had enough brownie points upstairs to purchase a boon and get his idea of a happily ever after with Elise.
The first fat drop of rain splattered on the sidewalk and lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a loud crack of thunder. He'd better walk faster if he intended to beat the storm that was brewing. But then again, maybe a cold shower would do him good. At this point, it couldn't hurt.
With the way his luck was running today, he wouldn't be surprised if Mother Nature wanted a piece of him, too.
Elise Hamilton cringed as thunder boomed outside Andersen Corporation. The phone line hissed and popped. "Um, Raven, could you repeat that?"
"Thirty thousand dollars."
Her eyes bulged and the pen slipped from her grip, then bounced from the desk to the floor. "Oh my goodness," she breathed in horror. Elise swallowed hard and reached for a spare pen cap to gnaw on, and forced herself to ask her brother, "Where in the world are we going to get thirty thousand dollars?"
"I don't know, Elise." Her half-brother cursed under his breath. "I called Dad and... well, you know how Apollo is about money."
"Yeah, I know." Elise's shoulders fell. Apollo, Raven's father, was as confused with money matters as their mother, Moonbeam. "I'll call my dad. He'll help." I hope, she added silently.
"Elise," Raven said in his wiser older brother tone. "If it were you who needed the money, I'd say ask. But Wyndemere won't stroke a check for more than a couple of hundred without asking why. And if your father finds out that his money is being used to save Moonbeam, then he will re-enact page three hundred and twenty-six of The Seven Blades of Death."
"I don't even want to know what happened on that page," she muttered. Skimming the blurbs on the back of her father's books was enough to make Elise sleep with all the lights on for a month. She'd rather curl up with her worn copy of Pride and Prejudice or watch The Princess Diaries for the six-hundredth time than experience the bone chilling fear her father's graphic novels detailed.
Raven sighed. "I just left Mom and she's---as usual---in another world. Moonbeam swears that The Guiding Light of Gaia will bail her out of this one."
"The church said they'd help her," Elise asked, surprised.
"Not in a way that'll help. Moonbeam and the head priestess are discussing the proper herbs and chants to use for their super-duper, whammy of a money spell. Her words, not mine."
Elise fell back in her chair and groaned. "Thirty thousand dollars. I don't have thirty thousand dollars. My car isn't even worth a fourth of that." She closed her eyes, racking her brain for possible sources of fast cash, and came up with a meager solution. "I'll sell my car and get a second job."
"Elise, if you sell your car how do you plan on getting to your first job, let alone your second one?"
"Raven, it's either sell my car or my body."
"Sell the car," her older brother said quickly. "I'll find you a moped."
Elise managed to chuckle. "Thanks. Nice to know I won't have to thumb for a ride every day. What are you planning on selling? Your body?"
"No." He hesitated. "I... my babies."
Elise bolted upright in her chair. "Your babies? Are you out of your mind? Insane? You can't sell your babies! How will you work? I'd rather sell my body than let you sell your cameras," she snapped.
He growled loud enough for her to hear it from his studio across town. "Elise, if we're gonna keep Moonbeam out of trouble, then we'll have to come up with a helluvalot more than thirty thousand. That---my sweet, little sister---is just the beginning." Sarcasm dripped from his voice along with a heavy dose of anger, which Elise suspected Raven directed at himself. He probably blamed himself for letting their free spirited mother get into a predicament as serious as this.
"Explain," she ordered. "How bad is Mom's situation?"
"Bad. According to the paper the tax cops served her, Moonbeam is facing charges of tax evasion and possibly tax fraud. I took the books over to an attorney and, Elise, the way she set up the accounts for the Guiding Light of Gaia makes it look like she's been using it as a money laundering operation. On top of that, Moonbeam flat out refused to pay her taxes in the 80s, which puts her in the hole about a hundred thousand, plus penalties, and---"
"A hundred thousand?"
"Don't shout, Elise. My head is killing me."
"Oh, sorry," she murmured. "Continue."
"Thank you. Moonbeam didn't pay her personal income taxes during the Reagan Administration. She said she was making a statement about something Reagan said in one of his movies. I didn't understand it then and I don't understand it now. And---don't," he ordered when Elise drew in a sharp breath, "shout---a hundred grand is an estimation of what we'd need to cover her personal taxes. The thirty thousand is to retain the lawyer or Moonbeam is headed to court, then straight to jail."
"Ohmiword," she breathed. "Mom's going to the slammer."
"No. She is not. I'm selling my babies. All of them. Including my... bike," Raven finished in a pained tone.
Elise was stunned and it took her a moment to speak around the emotion building in her throat. "Raven, you can't sell your Harley. She's your baby. You built her yourself. You spent years finding all of the parts and...." Raven's Harley was his pride and joy. His first love. He never went anywhere without Aphrodite---the name he'd given his bike when she'd been a tarnished skeleton of a motorcycle.
"I don't have a choice, Elise. Mom doesn't have the cash. She can't sell the house without losing money. You don't have the money." He swore violently. "Hell, Moonbeam is depending on moon magic to save her. I'd rather sell my cameras and my... bike than let her lose everything."
Elise felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She knew Raven didn't put a lot of credence in their mother's beliefs, but she also knew when push came to shove he would give his life to spare Moonbeam a moment of pain. If only she knew how she could help, then maybe she wouldn't feel so guilty and... helpless. Elise swallowed back her emotions and managed to ask, "But how will you work? You can't be a photographer without cameras."
"Ken---the guy I did the last shoot for---said he'd buy them from me. He'll let me borrow the cameras, as long as I do the Sandy Springs layout and a couple others."
"Oh, Raven. I wish there was more I could do. Selling your cameras is one thing, but Aphrodite...? Once you sell her, you won't ever get her back."
"I know. Believe me, I know. But, Elise, if you've got a better idea, I'm listening."
Elise closed her eyes and braced herself as she asked, "When do we have to have the thirty thousand by?"
"We've got two weeks. And Elise?"
"Yes?"
"Don't even think about selling your body."
"Ha, ha. Very funny. Like anyone would pay thirty grand for an overworked, undernourished administrative assistant like me," she muttered.
"They'd pay, but not for your typing skills. I say we both skip town. We'll run away when they come for Moonbeam. Can't feel guilty over something you don't see." She heard the smile in his voice as he added, "I heard of a good convent who's recruiting down in South America. You meet all of their requirements."
Elise knew exactly what Raven was doing and she almost smiled. Raven took his brotherly responsibilities too seriously sometimes. Trying to lighten her mood and keep her chastity belt in place were but two of the many ways that he'd assumed in his role of over protective brother. But considering everything that Raven was handling, the least she could do was play along and ease his mind so he wouldn't worry about her. "All but one, Brother Raven."
"Oh yeah? Which one," he demanded. "I haven't seen you out with anyone since the dork from---"
"I'm not Catholic and David wasn't a dork. He was a very nice person."
He chuckled. "He was a dork. He only wanted two things from you and when he got the first, he ran screaming for his mama."
"Raven," Elise snapped. "I still haven't forgiven you for introducing David to Dad."
"Me? Wyndemere wanted to meet him. I didn't do anything, but introduce them."
"You know very well what you did." Elise played along and clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Telling Dad that David was writing a book with me as the heroine---"
Raven laughed. "Not just any heroine, mind you."
Elise's frown bordered on a smile. "How could I forget? I was to be Sasha, the sex crazed, man-slaying nymph."
Raven cleared his throat pointedly. "You know that dork wasn't good enough for you. I did you a favor by getting rid of him."
Elise glanced at the six-inch stack of folders Luc had dropped on her desk before lunch and her mood soured. "How about getting rid of Luc? He's drowning me in paperwork." She pulled out her desk drawer and scanned it for potential weapons. "I'll hold him down for you and we'll tag team him. I've got... eight rubber bands. We'll put his hands behind his back and... we can smother him in Post-it notes."
"And then what will we do? Paper clip him to death? Oh, no, I've got it. We'll use the stapler and---"
"Yeah, that's it. I'll lock him in his office and guard the door. You can take him, Raven. I know you can. He's no match for you and your mad ninja fighting skills. He left me with a mountain of revisions for his big meeting and... please, Raven. I'm begging you."
Her brother laughed. "Forget it, Elise. I've seen your boss. Rubber bands won't hold him long enough for me to load the stapler. Now, if it had been the dork, rubber bands would have sufficed." He paused. "Besides, I'd rather waste my time mixing herbs for Moonbeam's super-duper, whammy of a money spell." Raven sighed. "Do what you have to, Elise. If you come up with an idea before the end of the week, let me know. Ken's bringing over the check on Friday."
"I will. I'll call you when I get home tonight. If it's not too late by the time I get out of here."
"Make sure someone walks you out to the car. I don't want to have to worry about you, too."
"Luc always does. Later, Raven, and try not to cry too much."
Raven grunted and disconnected.
Elise hung up the phone and toyed with the pen cap in her hand. If the state of the pen cap was any indication, then she was doomed to break out her special reserve pen caps and spend the rest of the day distracting herself with what Luc had informed her was a serious oral fixation.
If only her pen cap addiction were just an oral fixation. The truth was it was her mechanism with coping with the stress. Something that she'd picked up at a young age when she first realized just how not normal her mother was.
There was a flash of light quickly followed by the boom of thunder. Rain pelted the roof and the windows shook with the thunder.
Elise ignored the storm and looked back at the phone. Her eyes glazed over as she replayed her conversation with Raven in her mind. The longer she thought about it, the angrier she became.
It just wasn't fair. Raven shouldn't have to do this. He shouldn't be the one who had to continually go behind their mother and clean up her messes. But for as long as Elise had been alive, it was what Raven had done. Tossing down the semi mutilated cap in her hand, Elise yanked open her desk drawer and dug out a fresh one. "This bites big wankerdoodle. What was she thinking not to pay her taxes?"
From over the cube farm wall, she heard her co-worker, Donna, ask, "Elise, did you say something?"
"No. Just talking to myself. Again." Elise his gold in her special stash and grabbed a blue pen cap. Two seconds later, it was clamped between her teeth and she was happily gnawing it to death.
Donna chuckled. "Just as long as you don't answer yourself."
Elise harrumphed and picked up a folder from the top of the stack she had to muddle through before clocking out, then arranged the papers on the tray next to the monitor. "I'll tell you what she was thinking. 'Government, I don't need no stinking government.'," she told the computer monitor in a hushed whisper.
Elise shoved the thumb drive that contained the master document for Luc's project, into the computer, then moved the mouse and copied it to her hard drive. "Ha! It's all that nonsense preached about at The Guiding Light of Gaia which has brought the tax police down on her." Elise clicked to open Luc's master document from her hard drive. "Well, Moonbeam, let's see Gaia get you out of this one."
A bright burst of lightning flashed outside the window and the lights in the building died as a resounding explosion rocked the corporate office. From somewhere in the middle of the cubicle farm, a co-worker's blunt, explicit curse reverberated between the walls.
There was a loud hiss, then a pop and the acrid smell of fried electronics filled her cube. The overhead lights flickered and she heard the air conditioner groan back to life. Elise's jaw dropped and she forgot all about her oral fixation as a tuft of smoke unfurled from her computer "Ohmigoodness. No. Please, no."
"Elise, do you smell smoke?"
Elise ignored Donna's question and looked straight up at the white tile ceiling. "I didn't mean it, Gaia. Honest I didn't. I'll never say another bad thing again. Just let me keep the hard drive. Please." The papers in the tray shifted and one by one slid down, down, down until they pooled in her lap. "Please, Gaia, I'm begging you. I was so close to being finished," she finished in a weak whisper.
"Elise," Luc called from behind her. "How are you doing with the revisions?"
"Oh no," Elise whimpered. Luc was back from lunch and, more than likely, ready to dictate more changes to his plan for the financial reconstruction of Andersen Corporation.
She swiveled in her chair and gazed up into his clean-shaven face. The fear she felt must have been written all over her expression, because his blue-green, grayish eyes moved, looking over her shoulder to crackling and popping computer. She cringed as his relaxed appearance transformed into his patented Lucifer look. His attention fastened on her face and his jaw tensed, along with his shoulders, his hands, and in all likelihood the rest of his tall, lean body.
"Tell me it's not as bad as it looks," he ground out.
She lifted her shoulders hesitantly and picked up the papers in her lap, holding them with a white knuckled grip. "It's not as bad as it looks. We've still got the hard copies."
There was a loud crack, then a hiss behind her.
"It's gonna blow," Donna cried.
Luc lunged forward and grabbed Elise, yanking her bodily out of the chair. "Someone get a fire extinguisher before the sprinklers go off," he ordered as the first flame flickered to life. Luc snatched up the folders from the desk and thrust them into Elise's arms. "Tell me you still have the thumb drive," he said. "Please."
"Well," she hedged. "Technically we still have it, but...." She pointed to the computer. "It was sort of in there when...," she trailed off on a whimper.
Luc ran a hand through his chestnut brown hair and cursed.
Her knees shook and Elise clutched the folders to her stomach, then sank to the ground.
Her mother owed a hundred thousand dollars or more to the government. Her brother was selling his motorcycle. Her computer was on fire. Luc was mad at her. And Elise had lost six months' worth of work on a project, which Luc had informed her yesterday would be completed within a few days.
Life couldn't get much worse than this.

\*


I hope you enjoyed this peek into Lucien's book!


Lucien is slated to be available for purchase at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, and All Romance eBooks by mid-September, 2011.


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