Discovery Read online

  Synopsis

  When just one happy ending is not enough…

  An anthology of passionate, sensual love stories about falling in love, being in love, and celebrating the love between women of every age—yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Discover the passion, the thrill, and the heartwarming satisfaction of love time and again with the tales from today’s best-selling romance writers: Ali Vali, Cate Culpepper, Clifford Henderson, Erin Dutton, Gabrielle Goldsby, Gill McKnight, Gun Brooke, JD Glass, Jennifer Harris, JLee Meyer, Jove Belle, Julie Cannon, Kim Baldwin, Larkin Rose, Lee Lynch, Lisa Girolami, Meghan O'Brien, Merry Shannon, MJ Williamz, Nell Stark, Rachel Spangler, and Radclyffe.

  Romantic Interludes 1: Discovery

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

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  Romantic Interludes 1: Discovery

  © 2008 By Bold Strokes Books. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-438-6

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: September 2008

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editors: Radclyffe and Stacia Seaman

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Photo: Barb Kiwak (www.kiwak.com)

  Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

  Introduction

  It’s really very simple. Romance—the act, the emotion, the quest for, and the celebration of—is one of the quintessential human experiences. Infinite in form, universal, and unique, romance embodies all that is good, noble, and honorable about the human condition. In the short stories contained in this anthology, the Bold Strokes authors explore romance with the same challenging, provocative, sensual, and erotic power that is the signature of our novels. Romance—as you’ve never lived it before.

  Radclyffe 2008

  Romance brings out the best in all of us. From the boundless optimism of new love, to the rediscovery of something feared to be lost, to the deep appreciation of a cherished partner, to the transition from couple into family—with all of the new obstacles and emotions that entails, these stories explore the spectrum of women loving women. Joyful, rejuvenating, erotic—this is romance at its finest.

  Stacia Seaman 2008

  Finding My Muse - Erin Dutton

  Born and raised in upstate New York, ERIN DUTTON now lives in beautiful middle Tennessee where she works in the 9-1-1 system. In her free time she enjoys reading, movies, and playing golf.

  She is the author of three novels, Sequestered Hearts, Fully Involved, and A Place to Rest. She’s currently working on a Matinee romance, Designed for Love, which will be published in November 2008. She is also a contributor to the anthology Erotic Interludes 5: Road Games.

  Finding My Muse

  Erin Dutton

  She traced her tongue along the arch of one slender foot.

  Alex leaned over my shoulder and read aloud, then paused and said, “That’s hot, Cote. Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  I shrugged, unable to explain where the words came from. I’d been writing the stories in my head in one form or another for most of my life. That fact that it had eventually evolved into a career as a romance novelist was an added bonus.

  “I’m serious. Your books sell like hotcakes.” I cringed at the cliché. “Women lap this shit up.”

  I laughed. “You’re such a romantic.”

  Her look of offense was obviously feigned. “Hey, I can be romantic. Just because I’m not as hopeless as you.”

  “Ha. You? Romantic? Sweetie, I don’t think opening the bedroom door for a woman counts as romance.”

  “How can you keep churning it out?” Alex straightened and stepped away. “Especially since I can’t remember the last time you had a date, let alone sex.”

  Her assessment was a bit too close to the truth for me. Normally, I would have asserted that my single status was by choice, but with Alex there was no point in pretending. She’d been my closest friend for ten years, starting when I used to date her cousin, and there was little I could put past her.

  “How do you know I haven’t had sex?”

  “Because you’d have told me.”

  She was right, I would have. But I got defensive anyway. I spun around in my chair and pinned her with an accusing look. “Well, just because you can get it whenever and wherever, doesn’t mean the rest of us can.”

  “You’re an attractive woman. If you’d put yourself out there you could meet someone.”

  “Even if I wanted to, I don’t have time. I’ve got to have this draft done in two weeks.” I clung to a familiar excuse instead of admitting that since I’d gained those extra ten pounds, I didn’t feel so attractive anymore.

  She shoved a hand through hair as dark as midnight and so thick it immediately fell back onto her forehead. “Why do I bother?”

  Because I knew she didn’t expect a response, I turned back to my computer and resumed typing.

  *

  “Damn it, this scene is not working,” I muttered, my voice muffled by the pencil clenched in my teeth. Though I’d been working exclusively on my computer for years, I still liked the feel of a pencil in my hand. I twirled it while considering ideas and, when typing, I tucked it behind my ear.

  Idly, I spun my chair around, resisting the urge to give up for the night. The more frustrated I got, the less chance I would sort out the problem with my latest sex scene. From my desk in the small dining room that I’d converted to an office, I could see the living room. The sofa, soft fleece blanket, and television were calling my name. Turning away, I forced my attention to the manuscript and within minutes I was typing again.

  A knock at the door interrupted what little momentum I’d had going. After dropping the pencil on the desk, I stood. When I opened the door, I couldn’t contain a gasp. Alex was stunning in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo sans tie. A jacket cut to fit her broad shoulders and narrow waist covered a starched white shirt left open at the collar. Features that I’d been looking at for years suddenly seemed more striking. Angular cheekbones slashed beneath dramatic gray eyes. I’d never fully appreciated her strong jaw and full, sensuous lips.

  “What is this, Cote?” She gestured to my sweatpants and threadbare tee. “It’s Friday night.” Shaking her head, she shouldered her way past me. “Good thing I came to rescue you.”

  “Hey,” I protested before following her to the living room. While certainly not a fashion statement, my sweats were my most comfortable pair. My face was free of makeup and I’d pulled my long brown hair into a sloppy ponytail. Over the years, Alex had seen me at my worst, and I’d never been self-conscious about my appearance. But now with her looking so incredible, I just felt frumpy.

  “I promised Laura I would go to her fund-raiser tonight for gay and lesbian victims of domestic violence, and my date got sick. You know I hate to go to these things alone. So go put on your party dress.”

  Our friend Laura had tried to rope me into the fund-raiser as well but I’d begged off, saying I had too much work to do. Alex settled on one end of my leather sofa, propped an ankle on the opposite knee, and gave me an expectant look.

  “I have
a lot of work to do.”

  “You can take one night off. Go get dressed.”

  “As you so delicately pointed out, it’s not a matter of just throwing on a dress.” I crossed my arms uncomfortably.

  She shrugged. “So we’ll be fashionably late.” When I didn’t move she adopted her most charming smile, lifting one side of her mouth higher than the other and drawing her eyebrows together slightly. “Don’t make me go alone. I’d really love the pleasure of your company.”

  I’d been a victim of her persuasive efforts before. “You know that Romeo shit doesn’t work on me.”

  “Please, Cote. Go put on that black number that makes your breasts look perky and come with me.”

  I sighed, knowing she’d keep asking until I relented. “Okay, but I’m not rushing.”

  She grinned and picked up the television remote. “I’ll wait.”

  Grumbling, I headed for my bedroom, but she was already engrossed in a documentary about dromedary camels and wouldn’t hear me complaining anyway.

  As I passed through the bedroom, I pulled the black dress from the closet. With the right bra, it did display my breasts nicely. But I hesitated, thinking instead about the red one I’d bought at Neiman Marcus months before and hadn’t had an occasion to wear. After replacing the black one, I reached to the back of the closet.

  The V-neck was so deep that the cap sleeves threatened to slip off the ends of the hanger. The bodice was snug but beneath the bust it flowed loosely to just above the knee and would disguise the extra weight on my hips and thighs. Or so I’d optimistically convinced myself when I’d splurged on the dress. And it would go perfectly with those strappy black heels I never got to wear.

  I took my time in the shower and afterward, applying floral scented lotion before slipping into the dress. Standing in the middle of my bedroom, I nearly gave in to my panicked desire to take the dress off. The plunging neckline left absolutely no room for a bra and revealed far more skin and cleavage than I was comfortable with. But it did fit perfectly, accentuating the right curves and hiding the others. Besides, it was too late to return it, and who knew when I would get a chance to wear it again. As a reclusive author, my social calendar wasn’t exactly bursting with cocktail parties.

  I studied my image as I applied makeup and found myself thinking about Alex, sitting out there looking stunning. The eye shadow I chose was meant to enhance my green eyes, and the mascara promised volume and thickness. I wondered if she would notice. Of course she wouldn’t. I was her friend, a pal, and she was only here because her date got sick.

  I made her wait fifteen more minutes before I returned to the living room. Stuffing my keys in the small black clutch, I touched her shoulder as I passed.

  “Ready?”

  She turned off the television. “Sure, I…”

  I was at the door before I realized she hadn’t followed and she wasn’t speaking anymore.

  “Alex?” When I turned, she was staring at me.

  “You…ah, nothing. You look…um, I mean…”

  I’d never seen her struggle so much to get something out. “What’s wrong, hot stuff?” I teased.

  “That’s not the black dress,” she nearly stuttered.

  “No. I thought I’d surprise you.” My normally confident friend was flustered, a seal of approval for the dress.

  She trailed her eyes over my body and I felt my chest and neck flush as her gaze lingered on the exposed curve of my breasts. Then she cleared her throat and visibly brought her reaction under control. She moved close to me and took my hand. “You look beautiful. Shall we?”

  She led me to the street, still wet from the day’s rain. Her silver Saab was parked a block away beneath the orange glow of a street lamp. As we walked I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the slight chill.

  “Do you want my jacket?” She stopped, already slipping it off her shoulders.

  “No. I’m fine.” I grabbed her lapels and pulled the jacket back around her. Not wanting to wrinkle it, I smoothed the fine fabric over her chest. Her familiar musky cologne had never brought this flutter to my stomach. “Really.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

  She put her arm around me and tucked me against her side for warmth as we walked the half block to the car. She opened the passenger door, then, when I was settled, circled the car and slid behind the wheel.

  “What kind of crowd is it tonight?” I asked as she steered into traffic.

  “Rich people who don’t know what else to do with their money, no doubt.”

  “So, your circle of friends?” Despite the obscene fortune Alex’s family had amassed, she was the most unassuming person I’d ever met. She’d worked hard and had earned her place in law school, then built her practice on her own merit. Still, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease her about her snooty peers.

  “Hey, Laura is your friend, too.”

  Laura, Alex’s ex, was the chair of the fund-raising committee for tonight’s event. She was Alex’s opposite, embracing her trust-fund status. If you were in her circle, Laura could be a best friend, but she was also quick to judge and a bit of a snob.

  “Is she still with Olivia?”

  “Yeah, they’re going strong. And I take full credit for that.” She glanced over, and in the dim interior of the car, the amusement shone in her eyes.

  “Is that how it works? You get credit because they got together while both were commiserating over how you broke their hearts.”

  “Yes.” She turned into the U-shaped drive in front of the Palisades Hotel. “Here we are.”

  She tossed the keys to the valet as she jumped out of the car and hurried around to open my door.

  “My, my, your manners are showing tonight,” I purred as I grasped the offered elbow.

  “I’m trying to salvage my reputation.”

  “Why? I already know you’re a player.”

  “Yeah. I never could get anything over on you.” Her smile appeared forced and at odds with the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

  As we entered the hotel, she guided me into a crowd of people headed for the ballroom. Inside, she barely seemed to notice the crystal chandeliers refracting light throughout the room or the dozens of tuxedoed waiters circulating trays of champagne and canapés. She was comfortable among the men and women in formal wear. On the arms of many of those handsome women in exquisitely cut suits were women in all manner of gowns and jewelry.

  A cluster of musicians in one corner provided a string accompaniment to the din of conversation. Alex leaned close, her hand warm against the back of my shoulder.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Ignoring several passing waiters, she headed for the bar. Champagne made Alex sick. I knew she’d come back with a glass of Zinfandel for me and a Highland Park for her.

  “Why, Cote, what a pleasure.”

  I turned at the lilting voice behind me to find a tall brunette, who looked gorgeous in a deep blue sheath, accompanied by an equally statuesque blonde. These were the type of beautiful women Alex usually got involved with, and suddenly I felt ridiculous for thinking she would notice me just because I put on a new dress.

  “Olivia. Laura.” I accepted Laura’s half-embrace and glanced around the room with admiration. “Everything looks perfect.”

  “Well, it’s for a good cause. I thought you were otherwise engaged this evening.”

  “She was,” Alex said as she handed me a glass. “I kidnapped her.”

  “Alex’s date is ill.”

  “Well, then, how convenient that you could fill in,” Olivia said, though her eyes were on Alex.

  “Yeah, lucky for me.” Grinning, Alex wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me tightly to her side.

  Olivia’s eyes narrowed and she draped a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Darling, you really should continue greeting your guests.”

  “Thank you
both for coming,” Laura said with a smile before following Olivia toward a group of newcomers.

  I elbowed Alex gently. “That’s not very nice.”

  “She’s not very nice,” Alex countered quietly. “The woman burned half my clothes.”

  “But next time you’ll get all of your stuff from a woman’s house before you dump her, won’t you?”

  “I’m done with all that.” She paused to sip her scotch. “I’m ready to settle down.”

  I laughed. “You?”

  “Really, Cote. I’m not getting any younger. I need to start thinking about who I want to grow old with.” Her eyes were dark, almost slate, and intent on my face as if she was gauging my reaction.

  “I didn’t realize you thought about stuff like that. Sometimes it seems like you’re only interested in having a good time.”

  “I probably deserve that.” Her wounded expression made me feel guilty. “You’re the one who’s always telling me the women I date are too shallow and I deserve more.”

  “And I still think so. What about tonight’s date?”

  She stroked her fingertips down the outside of my arm. “Tonight’s companion is a gorgeous brunette in a smokin’ red dress, who is definitely way too good for me.”

  I drained the rest of my wine and blamed the heat creeping up my neck on the alcohol. “I meant your original date.”

  “Ah, you wouldn’t have approved.”

  “Vapid blonde?” I guessed and she nodded guiltily.

  “But that’s enough talk about my failures.” She took my empty glass, set it on a nearby table, and extended her hand. “Dance with me.”

  Laying my hand in hers, I let her lead me to the small dance floor already populated by several couples. She stepped close, and despite my heels, she was still several inches taller. I draped an arm across the top of her shoulder, letting my fingers rest against the side of her neck, and when she pressed her other hand to the small of my back, I felt the warmth through the silk of my dress.