Seduced in Secret
Authors: Shiloh Walker
Anybody ever tell you that you talk too much?
Daily.
Despite her frustration, she laughed.
When are we going to talk? As in, really talk?
Are you sure you’re ready to?
YES!
Her entire body lurched at the thought of it and she wanted to dance at the thought, laugh at the thought, shiver at the thought…burn.
Holding her breath, she waged a mental war and then told herself, “It’s now or never.”
You knew it wasn’t right for me. I don’t know how we know each other, but we do. I can feel it. So I broke it off. It’s done. Now I want to know what’s next. When do I get to meet you?
For a long time, there was no answer.
Then…
I dream about slipping into your room.
You’re asleep. You don’t even know I’m there.
Then I climb into bed with you and bring you awake with my mouth, with my hands, with my body. By the time you really wake up, I’m already fucking you, Tess.
Tessa had to squeeze her thighs together.
Tipping her head back, she stared up at the ceiling and waited until her head cleared before she tried to formulate an answer.
Don’t you think that will go over better if we meet? Talk?
Seduced in Secret
Formerly Whipped Cream & Handcuffs
By Shiloh Walker
Seduction in Secret
Copyright 2004 Shiloh Walker
Revised, Reissued Copyright 2015
Don’t Walk Away
Initially Published in the Mammoth Book of Special Ops Romance
Copyright 2010 Shiloh Walker
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Author’s Note:
This book was previously released as a short story with Ellora’s Cave, with the title Whipped Cream & Handcuffs. While the story came off as kinky and fun when I wrote it, looking back, years later, I had some issues. Writers grow, and while the story was purely fantasy, the heroine wasn’t the strong sort of character I tend to write these days and the hero…well, yeah. He needed work, too.
So this story has pretty much been completely rewritten, thus the new title.
The characters, themselves, at the core, aren’t much different, but the story has evolved.
I hope you like it.
Chapter One
There was another letter, sitting there on her desk. Her heart skipped a beat and her hands went damp. Biting her lip, she looked around and then felt silly for doing it.
It was her office, after all. She had letters and notes and envelopes left for her all the time.
Of course,
that
was part of the problem.
These letters showed up
at
her office. They showed up at home. They showed up tucked under the windshield wiper of her car and under the welcome mat at her house and everywhere else. She’d done the smart thing and told her older brother, the cop, about it. She’d told her neighbor, Caleb, about it. Her brother the cop had done a report. Caleb had agreed to watch her house.
Still the letters came.
Still she was excited when she saw them.
How could she
not
be?
The letters were everything her life…wasn’t.
Passionate and vital.
Loving and warm.
Swallowing, she reached out and traced a finger down the edge of the envelope, and then chanced another look around.
If she were smart, she’d call her brother.
If she were smart, she’d notify security when she left so they could walk her out.
But she just looked around and then slid into the orthopedic chair she’d ordered a few months back and sat there, staring at the envelope.
Tessa had spent her entire life being
smart
.
And she was miserable.
The office was quiet.
Nobody but her ever came in this early. Apprehension twined through her as she reached out a finger and traced the envelope once more, staring at it.
What secrets lay inside?
What would it be? A poem? Another short story that would leave her panting and wishing she had waited until she was home?
She chanced another look at the clock and then grabbed the envelope, tearing it open so desperately, she ended up tearing the edge of the paper tucked inside. It was a small tear, but she bit her lip when she noticed and forced herself to slow down.
The folded slip of paper held several answers and none at all.
Yes. She should have waited.
And no. It wouldn’t have mattered if she hadn’t.
She’d never think about work now, but she wouldn’t have gained much if she’d just waited until she’d gotten home, either.
The simple, folded sheet of paper read simply:
Soon
.
He meant it.
Whoever it was that called her late at night—whoever it was that left these dirty little stories, or romantic poems—really meant it. She’d been asking him, over and over again.
When can we meet?
And here was her answer.
Both terror and excitement mingled inside and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to laugh or puke.
Tessa placed the piece of paper face down on her desk and spun away, bracing her elbows on her knees and staring off into nothingness.
He wanted to meet her.
Her.
After four months, he wanted to meet.
“Oh, shit,” she whispered, surging upright.
The office she held as the manager of a small pediatrics group wasn’t anything extravagant, but it had more than enough room for her to pace. Just then, she used up all the available room, going back and forth as she swiped a nervous hand through her hair, toyed with the letter, and fussed with the button on the bottom of her cardigan.
“Tessa!”
She came up short at the sight of Jeanie Margrave, standing in the door to her office. Jeanie handled all the billing—and in short, Tessa’s sanity. Forcing herself to smile and at least
act
sane, she focused on Jeanie’s face. “Good morning!”
“Hey…you okay there?” Jeanie studied Tessa with a puzzled expression.
“Oh, fine. Distracted.” Tessa managed a weak laugh and shrugged, wrapping her cardigan more firmly around herself as she met the other woman’s eyes. “Did you need something?”
“Yes.” Jeanie looked like she was debating something, and then finally sighed and hefted up a box. It jingled as she plopped it down on Tessa’s desk. “I was at the post office this morning. This was part of the deliveries I picked up.”
Tessa eyed it narrowly and then, almost grateful for the distraction, picked up the flap that had already been slit open.
Then she lowered it and turned to Jeanie. “What’s this?”
Jeanie licked her lips and then calmly said, “Payment of a bill.”
“Excuse me?”
Jeanie held out a folded, if somewhat mangled, sheet of paper. “This was in there.”
Dear thieving scum
If you insist on robbing honest, hard-working people, then you can just take the very last pennies I have in my pockets. Here’s what I owe for my kid’s well-being. To the fucking dime.
“Well.” Tessa folded the letter and then placed it on top of the coins. She debated on a course of action. The family was set to be sent to collections—between their three kids, they owed almost a thousand dollars, and she doubted she was looking at a thousand dollars in quarters and dimes there.
Humming under her breath, she made a decision. “I’ll take the coins to the bank and have them counted. Once we know what the balance is, I’ll contact the family. Don’t update the patient status until then. Emergency visits only.”
Once she was alone—along with who knew how much in coinage—she went back to pondering her letter.
Soon.
Just what was
soon
?
If you’d asked
her
,
soon
would have been after the arrival of the first basket, delivered on Valentine’s Day. A pair of fuzzy handcuffs. A feather. Massage oil. Whipped cream…and a magnet.
It read:
You.
Me.
Handcuffs.
Whipped Cream.
Any questions?
Since then, only the stiff ivory envelopes made of a heavy bond paper had showed up. The writing was all handwritten and looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Sweeping, rather elegant looking, especially for a man.
A month after the first letter, the phone calls had begun.
She couldn’t quite decide if it was just coincidence or irony all of this had started a month after her fiancé had proposed. She glanced down at the ring on her left hand, the diamond flashing at her mockingly.
The first phone call had been simple. He’d just said quietly, “He isn’t right for you, Tessa. He’ll never make you happy.”
“Who this is?” she’d asked.
There had been a long silence and she’d thought maybe he’d hung up.
But finally, he had answered, his voice gruff, low—he never spoke in a regular voice—and he said, “Somebody who would do anything just to
see
you happy.”
The crazy thing was, she had a bad feeling her mystery man was right. Tyson was…ideal. He was the ideal boyfriend. He had the ideal job and he lived in the ideal neighborhood. He said all the right things and he’d proposed after the right period of time. They’d wait exactly one year after the proposal and he already had the church picked out—she hadn’t had much say in it.
It wasn’t like she felt like she was left out of these discussions, he just…did things.
And she was left on the sidelines.
She was tired of it.
Staring at the letter, she made a decision.
∞
The cool eyed blonde sitting across from her started to tap his fingers steadily on the white tablecloth. He lifted his water glass and sipped from it before setting it back down and staring her like she was a lab specimen under a microscope.
He was angry.
She had rarely seen Tyson James angry, but the tic throbbing in his cheek was a pretty good giveaway.
“This has to do with those insane little letters,” he said finally. Her ring lay between them where she’d put it two minutes ago. He hadn’t so much as looked at it.
“No,” she said. “It has to do with—”
“Have you called the police yet?”
She looked away.
She’d told him about the gift that had come on Valentine’s Day. She hadn’t had much choice, since he’d picked her up for dinner. He’d had roses delivered. They had been stunning and if she could have hidden the other gift, she would have been happy to, but when he came into the office, one of the women who worked upfront had teasingly said, “Way to make all the other men look bad, Dr. James. Sending not
one
but
two
gifts?”
So she’d been forced to explain.
“Why haven’t you called the police, Tessa?” he asked, his voice low, yet somehow managing to carry across the table to her ears.
He had a wonderful speaking voice, could command the attention of an entire lecture hall.
He could also make her feel terribly stupid.
Red crept up her cheeks as he said, “You have somebody stalking you, leaving you threatening presents and notes, calling you at home, and you haven’t called the police. What else does he have to do before you realize he’s dangerous?”
“He’s not dangerous.” Tessa pulled the napkin from her lap and folded it, laid it on the table. It was a good thing they hadn’t ordered yet. She wasn’t going to be able to sit through this meal.
Tyson scoffed. “Tessa…don’t be naïve.”
“Naïve.” She swallowed while tears tried to burn her eyes. “It’s naïve to think that some man out there loves me as passionately as he seems to?”
“You don’t even know him.” Tyson flicked a dismissive hand. “You’re being foolish.”
He picked up the ring. “
This
is love, Tessa. Not dirty little notes and illicit phone calls. He’s flirting with another man’s fiancée. That isn’t love.”
Tessa held out her hand.
