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

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СКАЧАТЬ a way for her to step out of her increasingly complicated life. He was her escape, her dalliance, her drug...

      The phone in her hand rang again, and Elana grinned when she saw the name on the display. Yeah, Cassie was the one person she could talk to. Unlike her family and Thom, Cassie didn’t nag.

      “One word, a simple hello, and I can tell that you’ve had a fabulous night. Where did he take you, what did you do?” Cassie drawled. “El Acantilado? The Polo Club? Swoosh?”

      “Nowhere,” Elana answered. “We stayed in and screwed each other stupid.”

      “I’m so jealous,” Cassie answered on a forlorn sigh. “Listen, I need to know if you’re going to come with me to Mark and Alex’s fashion show in New York next week.”

      “I don’t know yet.” Elana shrugged. “I’m waiting to hear whether Jarrod has plans with Finola.”

      “Does the ever-so-beautiful, stupid-talented and intellectual Oscar winner know that you are having an affair with her husband?”

      Elana shrugged. “Jarrod doesn’t seem to be worried, so I’m not. Besides, I’m playing with fire, too.”

      “Don’t get burned,” Cassie said, uncharacteristically serious.

      “You know me, Cass, I’m fire and bombproof. I always land on my feet,” Elana assured her before disconnecting the call. She didn’t like intense conversations that made her examine her life or her motivations. She liked to keep her affairs simple.

      And it was simple: Finola was Jarrod’s sun, and Elana was his moon. She and Jarrod saw each other when they could, and they were completely sexually compatible. They had fun together—she was allowed to have some fun, wasn’t she?

      Jarrod walked back into the bedroom, a blindingly white towel wrapped around his hips, artfully tied to show off the ridge of abdominal muscles. Broad shoulders, long legs, slicked-back hair and predatory eyes. Damn right, she could have some fun! God, he was hot, and he had a way of looking at her that sent bolts of power to her core. Elana wiggled against the silk sheets, and passion flared in Jarrod’s eyes. His towel started to tent.

      “Your phone is ringing,” he said, arms over his chest, one dark eyebrow lifted.

      “Yeah, I know.” Elana shrugged. “I’m ignoring it.”

      “It might be your fiancé,” Jarrod said, his tone amused.

      “And do you take every call of Finola’s?”

      The corners of Jarrod’s sexy mouth lifted. “Point taken.”

      Elana tipped her head upward and dragged her fingernail over her right breast, watching, fascinated, as her nipple pebbled. “So, tell me, what does Finola think of the mirror?”

      “Dunno. She hasn’t seen it yet.” His voice dropped an octave, and sex coated his words. “Do you like it?”

      Elana’s core throbbed, and the moisture in her mouth disappeared. “I love it. I love watching you slide into me.”

      “You up for another round?” Jarrod asked.

      Elana nodded. “I haven’t seen you for two weeks, so we have some lost time to make up.”

      Jarrod tipped his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. “Do you want to try something different?”

      Elana’s heart stopped, stuttered to life again as adrenaline flooded her system. She’d heard rumors about Jarrod’s dark side, about his taste for certain practices, and she was intrigued, and curious, enough to find out what he had in mind. Her phone rang again, and she released a harsh curse. “This damn thing won’t shut up.”

      A quick glance at the display told her that it was Thom. Again.

      Elana slapped the phone upside down to silence the ringer. Annoyed, she opened the heavy bedside drawer and tossed the phone inside. Whoever wanted or needed her could wait.

      Jarrod, and what he wanted and needed, came first. Or, as her previous experience with Jarrod had taught her, she would come first. Multiple times.

      * * *

      Mariella, lipstick reapplied and makeup perfect, walked from the elevator into the waiting room of the ICU, the three-inch heels of her designer shoes tapping the tiled floor. Joe’s fingers held her elbow in a light but reassuring grip, but she wasn’t about to fall apart. She had to be strong for Harrison, for her children, their company, for their future. They would get through this—they had to. Any other scenario was unacceptable.

      Mariella stopped, pushed her oversize sunglasses into her glossy black hair and immediately looked at Luc, approaching her from the other side of the room. Her firstborn was a perfect mixture of her and Harrison, Spanish heat at war with European ice. Her olive skin, his father’s gorgeous blue eyes. Luc was steady, dependable, not one to rock the boat. An easy child, Mariella remembered, but consistent excellence could be, dare she admit it, annoying. Unlike Rafe, he didn’t have an artistic side that allowed him to be emotionally accessible. She wished Luc would allow himself to be a little more open; he needed to relax, be less analytical and more spontaneous. But those traits, she admitted, did make him an incredible doctor. Luc always did what was expected, what looked good. His latest girlfriend, the all-American beauty, was a case in point. Rachel Franklin was such a cliché...a spoiled blonde bombshell with fake breasts, shiny teeth and all the depth of a puddle.

      Mariella pushed her chest out, thinking that her breasts had provided both pleasure and nourishment and were still fully natural. Big, bountiful, womanly—there wasn’t an ounce of plastic in her body. Okay, maybe a little Botox, but that didn’t count, surely?

      Mariella waited for Luc to reach her and opened her arms, sighing when Luc lowered his head to drop a perfunctory kiss on each cheek. Why couldn’t he be warmer, why wouldn’t he allow her into his head and his life? Luc was, and always had been, fully independent, and Mariella hated—and admired—it. The world saw her as a strong matriarchal figure running herd on her family, staff and friends, but Mariella had little—no—control over Luc. He was completely independent of their money and did not need their influence. She couldn’t help him, advise him or protect him, and that made her feel twitchy. A mother should be able to do all, or at least one thing, for her child, but Luc? No, he had to forge his own path. Stubborn boy.

      Luc pulled out of her grip, far too soon, and shook Joe’s hand. “How is he?” Joe asked, pushing his hands into the pockets of his chinos. Dear Joe—what would she do without him?

      Luc shook his head. “It’s not good. He’s in a coma. He has extensive injuries. Mom—” Luc placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed “—you need to prepare yourself. There’s a good chance...”

      Mariella shook her head as she lifted her fist to her mouth. Digging deep, she sucked up some strength and looked her eldest in the eyes. “No, Luc. Don’t think like that. He will be fine.”

      “Mom, he’s very badly injured.”

      Mariella narrowed her eyes at him. “Get a second opinion. Get the best in the world. Get them here, get them now. Once those doctors have examined him, I will listen again, but, until then, we will have no talk of the possibility of your father dying. Are we clear?”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ