Mia's Heart (The Paradise Diaries) (30 page)

“I
don’t feel well at all,” Sydney moaned as she fell back against her pillows.
“And it won’t go away.  I’ve had this stupid bug ever since I was at
Christian’s a couple of weeks ago.  At first, I thought I just ate too
much or the pizza sauce was bad or something but that can’t be it. I’ve had it
too long. And I’m tired constantly. Maybe I have something like mono.  Is
that possible?”

She
looked at her mother questioningly.  “I should probably go to the doctor.”

“Oh,
that would be just perfect, Sydney.  Then I would have to explain to the
world how you got Kissing Disease.”

Her
mother was curt and unsympathetic as she stalked into Sydney’s closet to yank
clothes off the rack for her daughter to wear.

“Pull
yourself together. You need to shower. You look like death.”  She tossed a
cream colored v-neck sweater and a pair of linen slacks on the foot of the bed.

“Ugh. 
I feel like death, too.” Sydney groaned as she stared up at the ceiling.

She
swallowed hard to battle the waves of nausea that threatened to overtake
her.  It didn’t help. Saliva was pooling in her mouth and her breath
smelled sour.  The room started spinning around her and she suddenly
couldn’t contain it. She lunged out of bed and barely made it to the bathroom
before she started heaving.  When she was finished, she curled up into a
ball and rested her cheek on the cool marble floor. 

“Mom?”
She croaked hoarsely. “I don’t think I can do the photo shoot today. I feel awful.” 

Jillian
loomed in the bathroom door for a moment before tentatively approaching
Sydney.  She quickly laid the back of her elegant hand on Sydney’s
forehead.  “No fever.  Do you have a sore throat?”  As she
asked, she backed quickly away, as though Sydney might have the plague.

“No. 
I just feel like I’m going to die any minute. I’m so nauseous!”

Her
mother suddenly froze mid-step as a thought occurred to her. 

“Sydney,
last month, when you were taking antibiotics for that ear infection, did you and
Christian use condoms?  And don’t try telling me that you don’t have
sex.  I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen the birth control pills.”

She
gestured toward the innocent looking little pink and white packet sitting
innocuously next to Sydney’s bathroom sink.

Sydney
was instantly uncomfortable, feeling as though she was five years old instead
of seventeen. 

“Since
I’m on the pill and we’re only with each other… no. We don’t use
condoms.” 

She
faltered as she saw the glacial look on her mother’s face.   “I know
that’s bad, but-”

“Sydney,
when was your last period?” Jillian interrupted in a voice that dripped
icicles.

Sydney
stared at her mother in shock at the implication of the question. 

“I
don’t know.  I’m not very regular.  It’s been a couple of months, I
think.” 

Her
mother’s face hardened into stone, her mouth a straight, creased line. 

Sydney
was quick to add, “But that’s normal for me.  Like I said, I’m not
regular. And I’m on the pill.  I’ve never missed taking one.”

“You’re
an idiot, Sydney.  How could you be so careless?  Antibiotics can
negate the effect of the pill.  Wait in here.  Do
not
come out
of this room.” 

Her
mother’s voice was so icy, that Sydney didn’t bother to assure her that she
wasn’t going anywhere.  She couldn’t if she wanted to. She felt too ill to
stand up. She simply lay with her cheek pressed pathetically against the floor
until her mother returned thirty minutes later. 

She
sat up shakily as Jillian roughly thrust a small box into her hands, trying to
ignore the fact that the room was spinning.

“Here. 
Take this.  I’ll wait out here.”

Her
mother turned her back on her and stalked out without another word.

As
Sydney hovered over the toilet, trying to pee on the plastic stick and not her
fingers, her sole humorless thought was that wagging her butt over a toilet was
definitely not the behavior of a senator’s daughter.  She sat back down on
the cool floor to wait, her head leaned back against the wall and her slender
arms wrapped tightly around her knees. 

Barely
two minutes later, her mother burst back through the door to find Sydney
staring in blank fixation at the urine saturated stick in her hand. 

“Well?”
Jillian demanded impatiently. 

Sydney
wordlessly turned the pregnancy test toward her. 

There
were two blue lines. 

To
read more of Princess, you can find it on Amazon
here

You
can find the entire list of Courtney’s books on Amazon
here

For
a more mature (more sexually explicit) book,

You
might want to check out New York Times Best-selling Author M. Leighton’s,

Down
To You

One girl.  Two brothers.  The love
triangle…that’s not. 

Olivia Townsend is nothing special.  She’s just a girl
working her way through college so she can return home to help her father run
his business.  She’s determined not to be the second woman in his life to
abandon him, even if it means putting her own life on hold. To Olivia, it’s
clear what she must do. Plain and simple.  Black and white.

But clear becomes complicated when she meets Cash and Nash
Davenport.  They’re brothers.  Twins.

Cash is everything she’s always
loved
in a guy. 
He’s a dangerous, sexy bad boy who turns her insides to mush and, with just one
kiss, makes her forget why he’s no good for her.

Nash is everything she’s ever
wanted
in a guy. 
He’s successful, responsible and intensely passionate.  But he’s
taken.  Very taken, by none other than Marissa, Liv’s rich, beautiful
cousin.  That doesn’t stop Olivia from melting every time he looks at her,
though.  With just one touch, he makes her forget why they can never be
together.

Both brothers set her heart on fire.  Both brothers are
off limits.

Black and white turns to shades of gray, however, when
Olivia discovers the boys are hiding something, something that should make her
run as far and as fast as she can.  But it’s too late to run. 
Olivia’s already involved.  And in love. 

With both of them. 

And now they both want her.

CHAPTER ONE- Olivia

My head is spinning lightly, but happily.  I can’t even
remember the name of the drink Shawna keeps ordering for us.  I just know
they’re delicious.  And potent as hell!  Wow!

“When’s the stripper coming?  I’m ready to get my freak
on!” Ginger shouts.  She’s the crazy, outspoken, cougar-of-a-bartender we
work with at Tad’s Sports Bar and Grill in Salt Springs, Georgia.  She’s
wild enough in her natural environment, but stick her in a strange new place in
city like Atlanta and she morphs into a full blown tiger.  Rawr!

She looks at me and grins. Her bottle-blond hair looks urine
yellow in the low light and her pale blue eyes are twinkling devilishly. 

I’m instantly suspicious.

“What?” I ask dazedly. 

“I talked to the manager ahead of time.  He’s gonna
make sure Shawna has to help the stripper get out of those pesky clothes he’ll
be wearing.”  She giggles maniacally.  I can’t help but laugh. She’s
a mess.

“Ryan would kill her if she stripped another man’s clothes
off, bachelorette party or not!”

“He’ll never know.  What stays in the VIP room happens
in the VIP room,” she slurs.

“Don’t you mean what
happens
in the VIP room
stays
in the VIP room?”

“That’s what I said.”

I snicker. “Oh, okay.”  I giggle as I watch her take
another sip of her neurotoxic drink.  I opt for my water instead.  Somebody
has to remain semi-lucid.  Might as well be me.  Tonight is all about
Shawna anyway.  I want to send her off into married life with the best
party possible.  I doubt that includes her having to carry me home or
clean vomit off her shoes.

A knock at the door to the private room has us all turning
our heads in that direction.  The girls immediately start laughing and
hollering and cat-calling.

Dear God, I hope it’s the stripper and not a cop or
something!

The door opens and in walks the most incredibly handsome guy
I think I’ve ever seen.  He looks like he’s in his early twenties, really
tall, and built like a football player—wide chest and shoulders, thick arms and
legs, tiny waist in between.  He’s dressed in solid black from head to toe. 
But it’s his face that’s most impressive. 

Sweet hell, he’s effin’ gorgeous!

His short hair is dark blond and his face is chiseled
perfection. I can’t tell what color his eyes are as he scans the room, but I
can see that they’re dark.  He’s just opened his mouth to speak when his
eyes finally make their way to me.  They click to a stop on mine and he
stares.   

I’m completely mesmerized.  As I look into them, I
still can’t determine a color, but the orbs look nearly black.  Even in
the light spilling through the door behind him, they look like pools of
ink.  Just barely, he tilts his head to one side as he watches me.

It makes me nervous. And excited.  I don’t know why. I
have no reason to be, but he makes me feel twitchy. Squirmy.  Warm.

We’re still staring at each other when Ginger gets up and
drags him further into the room, flinging the door shut behind him.

“All right, Shawna.  Come kick your single life to the
curb the right way!”

The other girls start squealing and cheering her on. 
Shawna’s smiling, but shaking her head.  “No way! Not this girl!” 
The bridesmaids-to-be get more insistent, two of them coming around to take her
by the hands and haul her to her feet. 

She leans back, away from them, shaking her head more
vigorously.  “No, no, no.  I don’t want to. One of y’all do
it.” 

She starts wiggling her arms to free herself, but the girls
have a death grip on her thin wrists.  When she looks at me, her wide
brown eyes tell me all I need to know.  She’s totally freaked by the
idea. 

“Liv, help!”  I raise my hands in a gesture that says
what
do you want me to do?
She nods toward the hunk hulking behind Ginger. 
“You do it!”

“Are you crazy?  I’m not stripping a stripper!”

“Please!  You know I’d do it for you.”

And she would.  Dammit.

How the hell does the world’s clumsiest shy girl get
wrangled into doing things like this?

As I so often do, I answer myself.

Because she’s a pushover!

Taking a deep breath, I stand and turn toward the Hot Hulk,
purposely jacking my chin up another notch.  He’s still watching me with
those smoky coal eyes. 

When I take a step toward him, he very slowly raises one
eyebrow.  

Heat washes through me.

Must be those dangerous drinks,
I think
.  It
has to be. 

I feel flushed and a little breathless, but I take another
step anyway. 

Hot Hulk takes a step away from Ginger and turns to face me
fully.  He crosses his arms over his chest and waits, that one brow still
raised in curiosity.  He’s not going to make it easy.  He’s leaving
it all up to me, just like Ginger asked them to do. 

As if on cue, the music that’s been pumping into the room
all night gets louder.  It’s a sexy song, heavy on the bass.  It’s
mood music for sure.  It seems to punctuate every intense beat of my heart
as I get closer and closer to those velvety eyes.  

When I stop in front of him, I have to look up.  My
five and a half feet of height is nearly a foot shorter than his towering
frame. 

Up close, I see that his eyes are brown.  Dark, dark
brown.  Nearly black.

Sinful.

I’m lost in wondering why that particular word would come to
mind when the girls start chanting for me to take his shirt off. 
Uncertainly, I glance at their excited faces then back to him.  Slowly, he
spreads his arms, holding them out to his sides, away from his body. 

One corner of his mouth twitches.  His expression, his
body language is rife with challenge. 

I realize he doesn’t think I’ll do it.  No one probably
does.

And that’s exactly why I will.

Letting the beat of the music relax my tense muscles, I
plaster on a smile as I reach forward to tug Hot Hulk’s shirt from the
waistband of his pants.

CHAPTER TWO- Cash

Damn, she’s beautiful!

Between this girl’s black hair, her bright probably-green
eyes, her banging little body and the way she seems a tiny bit shy, I’m wishing
we were alone in this room together.

Her smile doesn’t leave her lips as she runs her hands
around my waist, untucking my shirt.  When it’s free, she starts to pull
it up.

But then she pauses.  For a split second, I see her hesitate. 
She’s trying not to show that she’s unsure of herself, of what she’s doing.

I stare down into those liquid eyes.  I don’t want her
to stop.  I want to feel her hands on my skin.  So I taunt her,
hoping to feed the feline that I’d be willing to bet is buried somewhere down
deep. 

“Oh, come on.  Is that all you got?” I whisper.

Her eyes bore into mine and I hold my breath, waiting to see
which side will win.  In fascination, I watch as the balance of power
shifts and the change is reflected in her eyes.  They get a little
brighter, a little feistier.  I’ve never actually
seen
someone
muster courage.  Determination.  Something in this girl refuses to
give in, to back down.  She’s rising to the challenge.  And it’s hot
as hell.