I Heart You Read online

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  Phaze

  www.phaze.com

  Copyright ©2007 by Aurora Black

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  I Heart You

  a novella of erotic romance by

  Aurora Black

  Phaze

  6470A Glenway Avenue, #109

  Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222

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

  eBook ISBN 1-59426-916-5

  I Heart You © 2007 by Aurora Black

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Cover art © 2007 Debi Lewis

  Edited by Jasmine Harris

  Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.

  www.Phaze.com

  Also by Aurora Black

  Melting the Ice Queen

  Prologue

  He knew her. Perhaps more than anyone had ever dared. He knew what she wanted. From the depth of depravity in her novels, he knew the darker side of the shining public image.

  The man sat before the large television, staring straight ahead. Other than the harsh glare of the screen, there was no light in the room. He didn't care, and focused all his concentration on the image that danced across the screen.

  Rachel Malone.

  In silence, he observed the woman, the television muted. He didn't need sound; it ruined his enjoyment of the show. He didn't need to hear the multitude of inane questions the journalist asked her. He already knew which ones they were and how she would react to them, even which facial expressions she would use while responding.

  She was an open book. He wanted to read her from cover to cover before ripping out its pages and scattering them upon the floor. He wanted to tear her apart like paper, make her scream. He wanted to possess her, body and soul. He wanted her to beg for mercy for the pain she caused him.

  His cock gave a little twitch inside his jeans at the thought, and he lightly traced his fingers over the growing bulge. She'll be ours soon enough.

  Breathing hard, he unbuttoned his fly and eased his hardened cock from its confines. His attention to the screen remained constant. He spit into his open palm. He shuddered with excitement while spreading the moisture to his dick, jacking it slowly as the muted interview continued.

  In the studio, the journalist grinned cheerfully as he sat across from the famous author. The viewer moved his hand faster on the pulsing shaft, licking his lips at the sight of Rachel's image on television.

  "Bitch ... Gonna get you...” His voice husky with arousal, tinted with rage.

  Behind him stood a low table, bare except for a single sheet of paper. It was an early valentine for his prey. Taken from newspaper clippings, the pasted letters spelled out his message loud and clear. He was coming for her, and there was nothing she could do to escape his wrath.

  The man grunted rhythmically, thrusting his hips upward to meet the strokes of his fist.

  Fucking bitch ... romance writer. All of them are ungrateful bitches. They fucking hate men. They're always writing about the perfect man who doesn't exist, so no one's ever good enough for them. She's the worst of them all. I'll make her pay.

  Groaning loudly, he closed his eyes and a flurry of images came to him as his climax drew near. He imagined her kneeling before him, sobbing and choking on his cock. He envisioned himself bending her over and ramming her hard, pounding her holes without mercy as she screamed for him to stop. Inside his mind, she called him Master.

  The room echoed with his roar of release.

  Chapter One

  February 9

  Rachel sat alone at the guest table in the large bookstore, her entire being filled with wariness. She scanned the crowd of fans gathered on the other side of the shop, people who had braved the bitter cold of the night for an autograph from their favorite romance author. She searched them for outward signs of malice, but she noticed only appreciation on their faces.

  Her breath caught, and she directed her gaze to the red heart balloons that filled the room in honor of Valentine's Day, now less than a week away. At any other time, the sight of the decorations would have made her smile, but not today.

  That morning, she'd received a threatening note when she checked her PO box. It read: I'm coming for you, whore. No matter where you go or what you do, you will pay. You like writing about bondage? Wait until you're strapped down and at my mercy, you cunt!'

  She frowned at the memory of the letter, which had been constructed from newspaper clippings. The police warned her to cancel the event, but she couldn't afford to lose the opportunity to promote her novel, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let some psycho drive her away from her priorities.

  Who the hell does this asshole think he is?

  Rachel sighed, wishing she could go home and rest. Scribe's Pen was a major chain of bookstores, and she was honored to have been invited to make an appearance. Of course, she also had an obligation to her loyal readers. They had given her so much, and it was only fair that she gave something back. Signing autographs was the least she could do for them. She had taken the cops up on their offer of a police presence during the event, and the bored officer lounged around the far side by the crowd.

  A click and flash of light startled her out of her thoughts, and Rachel let out a cry of surprise before turning around. Disoriented, she couldn't see anything at first, but she heard a warm, masculine laugh coming from somewhere in front of her.

  She kept her eyes closed, waiting for the lingering traces of the flash to fade. Her tone reflected her annoyance as she addressed the stranger. “You find this funny?"

  The voice sobered, the deep timbre making her shiver. “I'm sorry—I didn't mean to scare you. I was setting up my camera over by the podium when I looked over here, and I just couldn't resist taking a candid shot. There was something in your expression that I just had to capture."

  His husky timbre was like a massage, penetrating her fear and working to ease the tension which, until then, had held her prisoner. Her vision finally cleared, and she opened her eyes to see the man whom she had been talking with. Oh, holy God.

  The first thing she noticed were his silver-gray eyes, dark like clouds before a thunderstorm. His hair was sable black, the rich locks falling to his shoulders. He tossed his head and a strand fell against his sculpted jaw, directing her gaze to his full, sensuous lips. She admired his powerful throat, and her own went dry at the expanse of golden flesh. He looked good enough to eat, and he knew it.

  A brilliant smile spread across his handsome face, and she realized that she had been staring. Rachel averted her eyes. “I'm sorry."

  His gaze never left her, and Rachel wondered if it held desire. “Are you really sorry?"

  Despite her earlier mood, she relaxed in the man's company. She tilted her head back to get a better look at him as he stood next to her chair. “Not really, no."

  The stranger's eyes glinted with amusement. “Then why did you say you were?"

  Rach
el flushed, her face hot. “Because I'm not in the habit of ogling people I don't know."

  He laughed again, holding out his hand. “Let me fix that. My name is Lucian Drake. I was sent here to cover this event and blind you with my flash."

  She reached out and took his hand. It was warm and strong as it enveloped hers, and she wondered how he would touch her body. She cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you, Lucian Drake. Sounds like the name of a notorious English rogue."

  It was Lucian's turn to look embarrassed. “Well, my mother loved romance novels, so it wasn't a surprise that she named me after some hero or other. I caught hell over it in school, so now I just have everyone call me Luc for short."

  With reluctance, Rachel let go of his hand. “I like the name Lucian. It suits you."

  He sat down in the chair next to her, his interest clear. “How so? I'm curious."

  Her heart pounded at his nearness, and dizziness assailed her. Rachel's imagination kicked into overdrive, and her mind filled with images of him fighting in a duel to save his lady's honor, or swinging a sword on the battlefield for the greater good. She pictured him rushing into a burning building to save his true love, his muscles flexing as he lifted her, carrying her to safety. Indeed, his name fit him well.

  Rachel wet her lips as other scenes danced in her writer's brain: the warmth of his breath against her neck while making love, the intoxicating scent of sandelwood and man on her skin, and the sight of their bodies entwined on satin sheets.

  With effort, she distanced herself from her erotic daydream. “You have a bit of the Devil in you, but you wouldn't hesitate to help a damsel in distress."

  Lucian leaned forward, giving her a sexy grin. “Perhaps I do.” Then his face turned serious, his voice low. “I think you have a naughty streak as well, Rachel Malone. You pen your wildest fantasies, teasing millions with glimpses of your sexual soul. Women read your books and envy your talent and imagination. They want to be you. Men wonder if you're as passionate in real life as you are when you're writing your love scenes."

  The policeman assigned to guard her approached the table where they sat, his scrutinizing gaze on Lucian. “Everything all right, Ms. Malone?"

  Rachel nodded to the officer. “I'm fine, thank you."

  The officer returned to his post just as the event began. Lucian slowly rose from the chair beside her and bent to retrieve his camera bag from the floor. He turned towards her, and she thought she caught a hint of regret in his eyes. “Well, duty calls. It was lovely to meet you."

  She smiled at him. “Likewise."

  He walked away to blend in with the crowd, and Rachel prepared for the night ahead.

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  The event was an overwhelming success. The representatives of Scribe's Pen were there to give speeches and free gift certificates. There were refreshments served, and the line for book signings was long.

  Over the course of the evening, Rachel observed Lucian shooting photos from the corner of her eye. She avoided looking at him at first, but as the ceremony wore on, she found herself returning his glances. He approached the table a couple of times, winking at her before taking a picture.

  Then the clock struck nine and the owner of the store dismissed the photographers. Rachel's stomach tightened as Lucian shrugged on his black leather jacket and packed up his camera. She couldn't believe that he was about to walk out of the store and out of her life, and she wanted to kick herself for not having made a move to keep contact with him when she had the chance.

  Lucian's expression was unreadable as he slung his bag over his shoulder, meeting her eyes from across the room. Then he turned and disappeared, swallowed up by the throng of people waiting for autographs. Rachel returned to the task at hand, her chest hurting as she scrawled her name on the inside covers of book after book, running on autopilot.

  Damn it. I can't believe I blew it.

  An hour later, the crowd finally began to thin out. There were only a few people left in line. Rachel looked down at the book that was placed before her, her pen ready. She spoke to the waiting fan as she raised her head. “Who do I make ... this out to?"

  He'd returned. Lucian's eyes shined as he smiled at her.

  "Make it out to Ethan, please."

  Rachel wrote an inscription inside her latest novel. “Who's Ethan?"

  "My father."

  She handed the book back to him, and Lucian accepted it with a nod of thanks. Rachel raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Your father reads romance novels?"

  Lucian adopted a mock hurt expression that caused her to laugh out loud. “What? Men can't appreciate a nice, sentimental read now and then?"

  She was still giggling when a woman standing behind Lucian tapped his shoulder. He looked back to see another ten people waiting, and muttered a quick apology before turning back to Rachel. “I'll just wait over there."

  Rachel nodded. “It won't take long."

  When the last person was gone, she stood up from the guest table and stretched her arms above her head, letting out a soft groan of pleasure as her muscles released their burden of the past few hours. Lucian approached her, his eyes following the movement of her breasts beneath her blouse. She let him look, finally admitting to herself that she wanted him to do more than just gaze.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Are you hungry? I know this excellent Italian place near Daley Plaza if you're interested. Where's your car?"

  Rachel waited a moment before replying, her logic and libido at each other's throats. A corner of her mind warned her that Lucian could be a snake under the guise of a charmer, while everything else urged her to take a chance with him and see where this goes. She took a deep breath and made her choice. “I'm parked behind the store. The security guards told me to put it there in case I had to make a quick exit."

  Lucian picked up her coat from where she had left it on the back of her chair, holding it out for her to slip it on. “Makes sense. Tell you what, I'll walk you out to your car and then you can follow me to the restaurant. You'll be able to drive away at any time."

  She turned in the circle of his arms and looked up at him, anticipation building at the thought of spending an evening out with him and getting to know him better. By the way his eyes traveled over her face, she knew he was thinking along the same lines. She gave him a bright smile, light-headed from excitement. “I'll be right back."

  Rachel walked towards her police chaperone, thanking him for his help and letting him know that she wouldn't be needing his services anymore. She returned to Lucian's side.

  "All right, let's go."

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  They stepped out into the freezing Chicago night, shivering as they made their way to Rachel's waiting car. Lucian rubbed his hand up and down her back in an attempt to drive away the cold, and it affected her so much that she almost forgot what she had left behind in the bookstore. She stopped in her tracks, sighing at her mistake.

  "Damn it! My bag. I left it under the guest table, and they're closing now."

  Lucian took her hand and kissed it, the tip of his tongue lightly grazing the hollow between two fingers and making her jump at the contact. “I'll get it, don't worry."

  He turned and ran back into the store while she continued to her car. Locked out, she stood in the darkened alley and waited for Lucian to return. Anxious from the thought of being alone in such a place, she started to turn back towards the building when a voice stopped her.

  "So, we're finally alone."

  Rachel turned around to see a man dressed all in black, his face covered by a ski mask. He held a large hunting knife, and her heart lurched in her chest. His eyes were darker than the depths of Hell, devoid of all human emotion. Lethal. They were the eyes of a killer.

  She slowly backed away from the man, frightened for her life. “Please don't hurt me."

  "You don't know what pain is, bitch, but you will.” The man's voice was so low she almost didn't hear what he said.

  Just then, Lucian stepped out
of the store with Rachel's purse in hand. His eyes widened when he noticed the intruder, and he ran through the snow to help. “Get away from her!"

  At the sight of Lucian's approach, the man hissed and disappeared into the shadows. Lucian growled fiercely and was about to follow the stalker when Rachel grabbed his jacket, tears flooding her vision. “No, don't! He has a knife! Oh, God..."

  He pulled her to him, and she buried her face in his chest as sobs of terror racked her body. He murmured words of comfort in her ear, holding her tight as he led her back into the store to call the police.

  Chapter Two

  Rachel's hands trembled in her lap as she and Lucian were questioned by the detective. All she wanted to do was leave the bookstore and go somewhere safe. Her fear intensified as she remembered the sheer hate she witnessed in the man's obsidian stare. There was no doubt in her mind that he'd wanted to kill her.

  Lucian reached out and took her hand, and she held onto him tightly. She was grateful for the support. His touch let her know that she wasn't alone, and it gave her the strength she needed to face the detective's invasive questions.

  Detective Petersen raised an eyebrow when he noticed their linked hands. “How long have you two known each other, if you don't mind my asking?"

  She opened her mouth to speak when Lucian answered, his brow furrowed.

  "We met tonight. What does that have to do with what happened?"

  The detective put his hands up at the steel in his tone, gesturing that he meant no harm. However, when Rachel observed Lucian's tightened jaw, she wondered if that was the case. The older man broke away from where the couple sat, motioning for her to follow him. “Ms. Malone, may I please have a moment with you in private?"

  Apprehensive, she stood from her chair and joined the detective in a nearby corner.

  "Yes, detective?"

  "It strikes me as very odd that your attacker fled the scene so easily when Mr. Drake returned from gathering your purse. If the individual was obsessed with you to the point of tracking you down and threatening you, he wouldn't have let an unarmed man chase him away from his goal. Unless..."