Desire: Love and Passion

Copyright © 2012 by Lesia Reid

Text edited by Todd Barselow

All rights reserved
.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

To family and to my dear friend Helene Raisman, without whom I might have never found my voice to write again.

He took the corner faster than intended but made a deft correction and accelerated even faster into the next turn. He was just out of the turn when he saw the car. Even as he
moved to
correct the path of his vehicle, he knew
that a
collision was imminent. The piercing sound of metal rending metal ripped through the otherwise quiet Saturday afternoon. When he
had
cleared the car, he tried easing to the shoulder of the road. He was going faster than he wanted to. The twang-twang of stones under the metal carriage sounded like bullets. The front
skidded and t
he Porsche did a spectacular one hundred and eighty degree turn. He took his foot off the accelerator pedal.  He tapped on the brakes and still
the incessant
twang-twang-twang as stone
bullets
continued to punish
the undercarriage. 
Finally, t
he Porsche came to a stop
, mostly
in the middle of the road. 

             
He was out of the car immediately. There was a loud reverberation in his ears like water rushing rapidly over rocks in a stream. He knew it was his adrenaline-laced blood pumping. The
acrid
scent of iron dogged him as he ran towards the yellow Beetle. The color seemed too bright, even alien against the
dusky
landscape. The distance between the cars was minimal, but seemed as expansive as an ocean.

The driver's door of the Beetle was wedged into place. He yanked at the door trying his b
est to avoid jagged metal edges, but it would not open
. He saw the driver mov
ing across the passenger seat so h
e rushed t
o the other side of the vehicle and
grabbed the
passenger
door. It opened easily.

             
"Are you alright? Are you alright?"
The words rushed from him automatically.

             
Her mini dress
had ridden
up revealing
sexy
laced stocking tops with garter attachments all covering smooth, creamy caramel skin. He tried to look away, embarrassed and more than a bit flustered.

             
"Are you alright?"
he anxiously asked again. He thought to himself that he
sounded like a broken record. 

She looked up at him. Her large brown eyes were alert in smooth beautiful and flawless skin the color of dark caramel. Her silky black hair was drawn back from her face. He
soaked in her full lips and high cheekbones and s
omething feral stirred
with
in him, replacing the embarrassment he'd felt
mere
moments before. There was a strange familiarity about her. His mind struggled to stay
focused while furtively digging for a memory that he knew did not exist, yet seemed so real
.

             
She knew he was a handsome man from his television and newspaper images, but in the flesh, he was much more
..
.
exquisite.
The infamous scar that stretched from beneath his left eye across the bridge of his nose, over his right cheek and ended just short of his right ear added a roughness that she found
more than a little
appealing. Vivid green eyes stared down at h
er. He flinched under her gaze and s
he looked away. 

             
"Are you alright?" The question seemed to be stuck on his lips as if it would stay there until she answered.

             
"Yes." Her answer was no more than a whisper, but
with
that breathy expression he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Her calm unnerved him even as he found himself
inexplicably
aroused by her.

She was alm
ost all the way out of the car and h
e felt
his
embarrass
ment return with a vengeance
as adrenaline gave way to endorphins. All he could think about was
those
laced stockings and garters. Holding the car door with one hand he reached for her with the other. She ignored
his outstretched hand.
Instead, she braced against the car door for one final shove. She swung both legs out of the car at the same time with a
nother
flash of lace and garter clips.
He stepped back to give her room.

             
"Are you alright?" He asked again, though she had already answered.

             
"Are
you
alright?" 

             
"Yes, yes, yes. I am so sorry."

             
She walked away from him and towards the other side of her car
where s
he
inspected
the damage. She folded her arms across her chest as she rubbed her elbows.  He followed her.

             
"I am sorry," he said again.

             
"You already said that." 

Now she truly straightened up and looked at him.

             
She was
impressively
tall
; a
lmost as tall as he and he was six feet two inches. He inevitably looked
her up and
down. She was in sensible pumps, no more than an inch or so
high
.

             
He watched as she
returned his look, giving
him a cool appraisal from head to toe.

             
"What are you doing out here a
lone?" s
he asked. "Where are your bodyguards?"

             
"They may be a few paces back."

             
"This is a very expensive All Fool's Day joke," she said.

             
"Why do you say that?"

             
"The most famous man in the world just plowed into the side of my car. We are standing on the side of the road hoping to bum a ride with his bodyguards that may or may not be a few paces behind. Nothing in that story seems likely. Dam
n
it," she said. "I knew I shouldn
’
t have had that extra glass of wine. I
’m dreaming right?
How hard do you think I have to pinch myself to wake up?"

             
He chuckled. Her calm
demeanor
soothed his anxiety.

             
"That depends," he replied after a few moments. "How heavily do you sleep?"

             
"You're my dream," she said. "Don't ask logical questions."

             
"How often have you dreamed about me?"
he quipped.

             
"Never!"
she said forcefully.

             
"Don't make it sound that bad," he said. 

He found himself unwittingly on the defensive. For some inexplicable reason, he wanted her to like him.

             
"It’
s pointle
ss to dream about you if there’
s never a chance of meeting you. I would have wasted a whole fantasy."

             
"I would
n’
t say zero now," he replied. "After all, you
’r
e not dreaming and I
am
here."

             
"You have a point."

"I’m
interested in the fantasy part
of your dream
.
Care to share?
"

             
Just about that time, t
he hum of
approaching
vehicles
broke the spell
.

"I'll take care of everything," he assured her.

             
"The important thing
here
is
that we’re
both okay." She had a deep throaty voice
that carried a sensuous and seductive tone
. Once again
,
his mind went to images of laced stockings and garters. He knew he
must
look flustered. Her soft chuckle only sent another embarrassing wave of heat to his cheeks.

             
"I'm Willow Barnes,
by the way
" she said just as the vehicles came into view. 

             
His cavalry had arrived.

             
"James Monroe
,
"
he said as h
e took her hand.

             
"I don't think you need
an
introduction."

             
The vehicles came to a halt within a few feet
of where the pair stood
. A short, slender young man with dark hair and horned
-
rim
med
glasses stepped out of the car ahead of the security
personnel
. He wal
ked purposefully towards them and it was obvious from the look on his face and his pursed lips that he was not at all happy at the moment
.

             
Willow i
nstinctively took a step back and
James moved in front of her as if to shield her.  She found it comical as it was she whom they
intended to keep
away from him.

             
James heard Larry speaking to her as he moved to the side of the road. He knew it was going to be a publicity nightmare if she did
n’
t cooperate. As he listened, he heard her
give her responses in a calm even tone.
Yes, she would allow the
m
to take care of the accident. No, she did
n’t
need medical attention. No, she would
n’
t go to the press. The questions seemed to go on forever. All the while, she answered in that calm
, silky smooth
voice
of hers
.

             
"Here is my card," Larry
said,
hand
ing
her a business card. "If you need transportation to get a rental car, I will arrange it. We will also cover the cost of your rental and any other expenses with regard to this matter."