Dangerous Pleasures (33 page)

The reality hit her hard.
No!
It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t possible! Was it?

He saw the confusion in her beautiful eyes warring with her common sense. “Say my name, Annie, and everything will be perfect for you, for your sister. Say my name!”

It was so little to ask of her, Annie suddenly reasoned with herself. What was so awful about saying his name? Why was she fighting with him over it? “Do you promise to give me the best orgasm I’ve ever had?” she whispered to him. “Do you,
Fyfe
?”

He smiled, his eyes catching hers, holding her gaze. “Yes,” was all he said, and then he thrust his thick length into her heated vagina.

She felt him filling her, stretching the walls of her passage, throbbing. He drove her hard, and he drove deep into her hot, wet sex. His eyes never left hers, and Annie couldn’t seem to turn away from his blazing gaze, from the tiny flames that danced deep in his dark eyes. To her wonder she felt her orgasm building slowly, slowly, and then it burst, sweeping over her as Annie realized with perfect clarity just who her employer was, who Fyfe was. She screamed with a mix of fear and intense pleasure.

“Yes!” He laughed into her face. “Yes, Mistress Anne, my own innocent beauty, you understand at last the dangerous pleasures you have sought out, don’t you!”

And he drove her harder until she began to swoon with her second great orgasm. But before reason totally left her Annie thought to herself,
It’s for my children. Everything I’ve done has been for my children! It will always be for the children!

E
PILOGUE

“T
he Spa at Egret Pointe has proved so successful for the Channel Corporation that after three years they are opening another,” the
Entertainment Tonight
reporter gushed. “I’m with Annie Miller, general manager of the first of these wonderful getaways for women only. How Annie came to run this luxe establishment is a fairy tale in itself. Will you tell our audience how you got here?”

“Well, my sister entered me in the contest that was the promotion for the Spa’s opening. And I won! The rest is history, as they say,” Annie said.

“I think you’re being too modest.” The reporter giggled. She turned. “Mr. Nicholas is the CEO of the Channel Corporation. Can you tell us how Annie became your GM here?”

“As a guest she showed an incredible instinct for what guests wanted and needed, the first of which was our gift shop. We asked her to run it, and she made such an incredible success we hired her as the then-GM’s assistant manager. Annie had no experience, but we trained her, and when our first general manager left we asked Annie to step into her shoes, which she has done very capably.”

“And she’s trained your nephew, Fyfe MacKay,” the reporter said, “and he’s going to be running the newest Channel Corporation spa down in the islands. Mr. MacKay, are you excited about that?”

“I am, and I can’t thank Mrs. Miller enough for all her help, her advice, and her kindness toward me,” Fyfe MacKay said.

“And now, using the magic that only television can give you, we’re going to switch over and go right down to The Spa at Fantasy Key.”

“Okay, let’s turn off the television,” Annie said. “You’ve all seen my part.”

“No,” Amy said, “let’s see more of that Fyfe guy. Jeez, Mom, he is so hot! How could you work with him and keep your hands off of him?”

The twins giggled.

“Amy, you’re going to discover that there are lots of things in the world that don’t have to do with just sex,” Annie said dryly.

“Well, I guess you get to an age when sex doesn’t matter anymore,” Amy replied.

“Amy, dear, that really is dreadfully rude,” Nanny Violet said disapprovingly.

Annie laughed. If her daughter only knew. But, of course, eventually one day Amy would.
It doesn’t matter what I’ve done,
Annie thought, looking around the den at her youngest son and three daughters.
Whatever happens to me isn’t important. It’s all been for my children, and the kids are happy.
There were surely worse things than working for the devil. Weren’t there?

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

B
ertrice Small is a
New York Times
bestselling author and the recipient of numerous awards, including the 2006 Career Achievement Award for Historical Romance from
Romantic Times
magazine. In keeping with her profession, Bertrice Small lives in the oldest English-speaking town in the state of New York, founded in 1640. Her light-filled studio includes the paintings of her favorite cover artist, Elaine Duillo, and a large library. Because she believes in happy endings, Bertrice Small has been married to the same man, her hero, George, for forty-five years. They have a son, Thomas; a daughter-in-law, Megan; and four wonderful grandchildren. Longtime readers will be happy to know that Nicki the cockatiel flourishes, along with his fellow housemates: Pookie, the long-haired greige-and-white cat; Finnegan, the long-haired bad black kitty; and Sylvester, the black-and-white tuxedo cat, who is now the official family bedcat.