Fire and Desire
About Me
- Fire and Desire
- Trevor and Tiffany's Story
What do you do when you find yourself caught in the revenge you have set for someone else?
Trevor Lewis a computer business owner has the contract of a lifetime at his door with the governor old firm and flames revenge in his heart he just cannot shake loose. Five years ago, a man stole something precious from Trevor. Finally, opportunity knocks giving Trevor a chance to settle the score with his old college nemesis, through the other man’s fiancé. Tiffany Hatcher is a highly sought after party coordinator and the daughter of the governor. When she plans a secret bachelorette party in Las Vegas, too include a stripper name The Fireman. Things go from hot to scorching…fast.
Tiffany is appalled at her own behavior when she awakens to find herself hung over, in a strange bed and married to the dancer from the night before--Trevor Lewis. Life can’t get more complicated for Tiffany as she attempts to get a divorce, manage her father’s career and run her own company. To make matters worse, every time her so-called husband shows up, it becomes harder for her to resist the passionate desire she feels for him. She soon finds she can’t hang on much longer, something has got to give.
Trevor, her elusive and mysterious husband is determined it will not be him. As he pushes Tiffany toward accepting his love, her own sensuality and learning to live life outside of her father’s shadow, he discovers that she is not the only one caught in a tangled web of emotions. But can Trevor decide to walk away from his revenge in hopes of having a future with the woman he loves.
Fall in love.
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EXCERPT
One
The sounds of running water woke Tiffany to what it felt like to be struck down by a train. Her world was spinning, and she hadn’t even opened her eyes yet. The emptiness of her stomach cramped with pain, along with the subtle aches in various places on her body. Her mouth filmy and dry, as if she had been eating a mixture of cheese and cotton all night.
She dragged her body to a seated position, placed her head in her hands and took a few calming breaths before opening her eyes.
Excruciating minutes passed before the topsy-turvy room righted itself enough for her to look around. Her unfocused gaze traveled the room. A sinking feeling came over her. Things weren’t quite right. Instead of being at the townhouse with her friends, she was in bed at a hotel. Her clothing was scattered in multiple places on the floor, leading her to believe she had been good and drunk when she’d undressed.
The warmth of the starched sheets against her skin made her very aware that her underclothing had met the same fate.
Tiffany leaned back against the headboard with a groan of disgust. Too caught up in her own thoughts of how she’d possibly come to be there, she didn’t hear the shower turn off, nor the door to the bathroom opening.
“Good morning, sunshine,” came a silky baritone voice.
The voice caused heat to radiate up her spin. Tiffany lifted her head slowly, not wanting to believe her ears, or allow the dizziness to attack her again.
While dealing with the shock of her situation, the sight of the male standing in the doorway of the bathroom was undeniable. He was at least six-two, broad shoulders, with skin the color of chocolate satin. It looked smooth and inviting. He stood leaning against the doorframe, his body still glistening from his shower. The only form of modesty he showed was the towel loosely tied and riding low on his hips. Tiffany knew he was the guy from the party.
The desire to chase the run away crystal droplets across his chest with her tongue assailed her. A quick deep breath helped to clear her mind. Man, what is coming over me?
Her gaze returned to the sex symbol now lounged against the bathroom doorjamb. He looked different without his mask. The plastic piece, fire engine red it had covered so much of his face that he would be virtually unrecognizable to most people who didn’t have an up-close encounter. Especially to anyone who didn’t know he had light brown eyes, instead of the dark brown contacts he wore during his performance to disguise his eyes.
She was probably the only one from the party who knew he also had a prominent dimple in his left cheek when he smiled. He had only smiled once, at the town house. Just once.
Hmm, perfect fit, his words echoed in her mind. Feeling her nipples tighten at the memory of the day before, she pulled the sheet from her chest to her chin and held it firm to cover the evidence of her arousal. “What are you doing here?” she inquired.
He lifted his eyebrow.
Tiffany realized it was a stupid question. Since she never remembered booking a room, most likely she was the outsider.
“Let me rephrase that…Why am I here?”
“Where else would you be?”
Tiffany always hated it when people answered a question with a question, and being hung over didn’t make it anymore likable. “I was supposed to be with my friends in Las Vegas.”
“Well, one out of two isn’t bad,” he said, in a voice that brought back vague memories of the previous evening, causing her pulse accelerate.
“I’m probably going to regret asking this…but what happened last night?” Finding it hard to make eye contact, Tiffany stared down at her hands.
“You don’t remember…anything?” The skepticism was evident in his voice.
Tiffany’s gaze shot up toward his. “Nothing after mid-night,” she confessed. Glancing at her clothes again, she mumbled, “Can pretty much guess some of it…”
“Hmm…you think?” was all he said.
“It’s not rocket science,” Tiffany informed him. The best defense mechanism—sarcasm.
Tiffany had enough. She needed to get out of this room. She had a plane to catch that evening, and she wanted to put all of the ugliness of the night behind her. It took three attempts before she could negotiate her body off the bed without falling over, while keeping the sheet wrapped around her. Seated on the edge of the bed, something caught her eye on the nightstand. She turned and saw the bold writing across the top. Marriage Certificate.
One hand clutched the sheet behind her, while she reached for the paper with the other hand and read the names across the bottom, just before the signature of the minister of Eternal Bliss Wedding Chapel.
She snapped her head around to face the person she could only assume was the name and signature below hers—Trevor Lewis. “Tell me this is some kind of joke.” Anger catapulted through her body. It had been a long night, and she felt disgusted with herself inside and out. She was not in the mood for any more foolishness.
He looked straight into her eyes. “It’s no joke.”
The sounds of running water woke Tiffany to what it felt like to be struck down by a train. Her world was spinning, and she hadn’t even opened her eyes yet. The emptiness of her stomach cramped with pain, along with the subtle aches in various places on her body. Her mouth filmy and dry, as if she had been eating a mixture of cheese and cotton all night.
She dragged her body to a seated position, placed her head in her hands and took a few calming breaths before opening her eyes.
Excruciating minutes passed before the topsy-turvy room righted itself enough for her to look around. Her unfocused gaze traveled the room. A sinking feeling came over her. Things weren’t quite right. Instead of being at the townhouse with her friends, she was in bed at a hotel. Her clothing was scattered in multiple places on the floor, leading her to believe she had been good and drunk when she’d undressed.
The warmth of the starched sheets against her skin made her very aware that her underclothing had met the same fate.
Tiffany leaned back against the headboard with a groan of disgust. Too caught up in her own thoughts of how she’d possibly come to be there, she didn’t hear the shower turn off, nor the door to the bathroom opening.
“Good morning, sunshine,” came a silky baritone voice.
The voice caused heat to radiate up her spin. Tiffany lifted her head slowly, not wanting to believe her ears, or allow the dizziness to attack her again.
While dealing with the shock of her situation, the sight of the male standing in the doorway of the bathroom was undeniable. He was at least six-two, broad shoulders, with skin the color of chocolate satin. It looked smooth and inviting. He stood leaning against the doorframe, his body still glistening from his shower. The only form of modesty he showed was the towel loosely tied and riding low on his hips. Tiffany knew he was the guy from the party.
The desire to chase the run away crystal droplets across his chest with her tongue assailed her. A quick deep breath helped to clear her mind. Man, what is coming over me?
Her gaze returned to the sex symbol now lounged against the bathroom doorjamb. He looked different without his mask. The plastic piece, fire engine red it had covered so much of his face that he would be virtually unrecognizable to most people who didn’t have an up-close encounter. Especially to anyone who didn’t know he had light brown eyes, instead of the dark brown contacts he wore during his performance to disguise his eyes.
She was probably the only one from the party who knew he also had a prominent dimple in his left cheek when he smiled. He had only smiled once, at the town house. Just once.
Hmm, perfect fit, his words echoed in her mind. Feeling her nipples tighten at the memory of the day before, she pulled the sheet from her chest to her chin and held it firm to cover the evidence of her arousal. “What are you doing here?” she inquired.
He lifted his eyebrow.
Tiffany realized it was a stupid question. Since she never remembered booking a room, most likely she was the outsider.
“Let me rephrase that…Why am I here?”
“Where else would you be?”
Tiffany always hated it when people answered a question with a question, and being hung over didn’t make it anymore likable. “I was supposed to be with my friends in Las Vegas.”
“Well, one out of two isn’t bad,” he said, in a voice that brought back vague memories of the previous evening, causing her pulse accelerate.
“I’m probably going to regret asking this…but what happened last night?” Finding it hard to make eye contact, Tiffany stared down at her hands.
“You don’t remember…anything?” The skepticism was evident in his voice.
Tiffany’s gaze shot up toward his. “Nothing after mid-night,” she confessed. Glancing at her clothes again, she mumbled, “Can pretty much guess some of it…”
“Hmm…you think?” was all he said.
“It’s not rocket science,” Tiffany informed him. The best defense mechanism—sarcasm.
Tiffany had enough. She needed to get out of this room. She had a plane to catch that evening, and she wanted to put all of the ugliness of the night behind her. It took three attempts before she could negotiate her body off the bed without falling over, while keeping the sheet wrapped around her. Seated on the edge of the bed, something caught her eye on the nightstand. She turned and saw the bold writing across the top. Marriage Certificate.
One hand clutched the sheet behind her, while she reached for the paper with the other hand and read the names across the bottom, just before the signature of the minister of Eternal Bliss Wedding Chapel.
She snapped her head around to face the person she could only assume was the name and signature below hers—Trevor Lewis. “Tell me this is some kind of joke.” Anger catapulted through her body. It had been a long night, and she felt disgusted with herself inside and out. She was not in the mood for any more foolishness.
He looked straight into her eyes. “It’s no joke.”
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