Secrets Of The A-List Complete Collection, Episodes 1-12. Cat Schield

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Rafe flashed a lethal look at Jarrod, who took his cue, brushed by Rafe and descended the stairs.

      Elana had been more annoyed than humiliated. “Thanks, brother dear.” She pushed by him and returned to the ballroom. Of course Rafe told their mother, who went off on one of her epic tirades, but it didn’t stop Elana. Once she got a taste of what things could be like with Jarrod, there was no turning back for her.

      The very next day, she found the number for the studio where he worked and called him. She apologized for her overzealous brother and indicated that they had unfinished business.

      Jarrod told her that his wife had left that morning for a movie and would be out of town for at least a month, and that he felt a bout of loneliness coming on. She assured him that she had the cure for that.

      When she pulled up to his house later that afternoon, it was the beginning of a ride that she had no intention of getting off. That first time with Jarrod was beyond anything she’d ever experienced in her life. She was totally addicted and found all kinds of ways to be with him. She became expert in concocting one lie after another to be with Jarrod, from shopping trips to doctor’s appointments—whatever it took.

      And then Thom asked her to marry him, and the secret world that she’d built with Jarrod came crashing down. At least if he’d proposed in private she could have gently told him no. But instead he did it in front of her entire family, and of course they were beyond ecstatic.

      So here she was, on the cusp of marrying a man who would be perfect for someone else, but for her the lights simply didn’t come on. She did care, she cared deeply about Thom, about their longtime friendship. But love...passion...

      Elana flipped onto her side, laced her arm across Jarrod’s chest and snuggled against him.

      “Any luck in postponing the wedding?” Jarrod asked, his voice thick and dreamy.

      Elana snuggled closer. “No,” she whimpered. “I don’t know that I can, especially now with all that happened with my father. And...” She hesitated. She wanted to tell him about the Fixer. Maybe Jarrod could help her figure out who it was—then maybe her family wouldn’t continue to paint her as the flighty idiot of the group. But she really didn’t know enough to be able to tell Jarrod much of anything. The last thing she wanted was for Jarrod to think she was silly, too. Besides, if she didn’t marry Thom, did that mean that Jarrod would leave Finola?

      Jarrod talked from time to time about how unhappy he was and even hinted that he wished he could walk away from it all. Of course she couldn’t push the idea, considering her own convoluted situation. And to be honest, what would life with Jarrod even be like? Besides mind-blowing sex and listening to complaints about each other’s significant other, they didn’t have much in common. She and Thom had a lot in common... Still, she would opt for great sex and no conversation over what her life was mapped out to be.

      Her cell phone flashed the reminder on the bedside table: Meet Thom.

      “And what, babe?” He stroked her cool hip and brought her thoughts back to the conversation.

      “I tried to mention to Thom the other day that maybe we should wait until my dad is better, and he practically flipped out on me. Then my mother twisted the guilt knife.”

      He frowned. “How?”

      Elana sighed deeply. “She said my father’s biggest wish is to see me marry Thom.” Her voice broke. “It’s almost like a damned deathbed request at this point. If they are going to make me get married, I want to at least have my father walk me down the aisle. No one seems to get that.” She sniffed back tears as images of her father in that hospital bed, barely recognizable, flashed in her head.

      “I don’t want you to worry, baby. Your father will come through.” He eased her closer and stared up at the mirrored ceiling, their bodies on full display. Elana’s incredible form still radiated in the afterglow. Her perfect breasts stood high, her peaked nipples dark against her tanned skin. The thin strip of hair that led to her center of pleasure beckoned him. He grew hard and grabbed his cock in his hand. He slid his other down between Elana’s damp thighs, absently teasing her swollen clit until she began to squirm. Everything he wanted—fame, money, influence—was just within his grasp. The reach of the Marshall fortune extended beyond their restaurants and hotels, their family estate and vineyards. The Marshall name alone made people take notice, lift their heads and pay attention. He wanted to be part of the rarefied air the Marshalls breathed. Elana was his ticket. Two things stood in his way—Finola and Thom.

      He turned on his side and slid a finger inside her wet walls. Elana’s breath hitched. He inserted another and then suckled the soft skin of her neck.

      “Let’s not worry about that now, babe,” he whispered in her ear before rising above her and bracing his weight on his forearms.

      “How can I not worry about my father...the wedding...” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears even as her hips rose and her legs spread for him. “My whole life is about to change. What about us?”

      “Shh.” He covered her mouth with his. What he needed now was release. He pushed deep inside her. Her cry died in his mouth. No more talking. The rest they would figure out. One way or the other.

      * * *

      Thom rang the bell again. Had she actually forgotten that he was coming?

      Finally the door was pulled open. “Oh, Mr. Scott. The family isn’t here,” Joy, the Marshalls’ live-in chef, greeted him.

      “Joy, hi.” He took a quick look at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet Elana.”

      “Of course. Please, come in.” She stepped aside, and Thom walked into the expansive entryway.

      “Can I get you anything, coffee, tea, a snack?” she asked over her shoulder.

      Thom smiled. “No, thanks. I’m fine. What’s on the menu for today?”

      Joy turned, slipping her hands into the pockets of her white jacket. “With Harrison still in the hospital, everyone is in and out all day. I’m ready for a full meal if they want, but I have some small dishes prepared and plates of hors d’oeuvres.” She smiled, and her deep dimples carved her cheeks. “And of course the seafood paella that Mariella loves.”

      “Pretty sure that’s a house favorite,” he said with a smile, recalling the dinners he’d shared with the family and Joy’s famous paella as a main course.

      “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

      “No. Thanks. I’m fine. I’ll just wait in the reception room.”

      Joy gave a short nod and turned to leave, her shoulder-length ponytail swinging behind her.

      Thom strolled down the wide foyer, the artery that branched off to the rooms that occupied the main level of the mansion. The closest reception room was to his left. A small corner of his mind hoped that when he stepped across the threshold he would miraculously find Elana waiting, and for once he would be the one who was late and needed to apologize. Pure fantasy.

      Thom wanted to be annoyed, but he’d grown used to Elana’s disregard for time. It had been a running joke between them since they were kids. If you wanted Elana to be anywhere on time, tell her the appointment started an hour earlier. Thom smiled, checked his Rolex СКАЧАТЬ