Stolen Fate Read online

  Stolen Fate

  S. Nelson

  Copyright © 2014 S. Nelson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Stolen Fate/ S.Nelson. -- 1st edition

  This book is dedicated to all who have yet to find their true passion in life. It will come when you least expect it.

  Trust me.

  Acknowledgements

  First off, I would like to thank my husband for being patient with me while I was lost in my characters, sometimes disappearing in my office for days on end. Thanks for holding down the fort, Honey. I love you.

  To the ladies at Hot Tree Editing, I can’t say enough good things about you. You have been truly fantastic, helping to guide me through this process. I didn’t know the first thing about what I was doing and your patience with me was very much appreciated. To my Beta readers, thank you very much for your input and constructive critique. I actually tweaked sections of my book which made the story even better.

  To my sister Pam, what do I even say? Your excitement throughout this whole process leaves me speechless. You were the very first one to read the rough draft and your feedback was priceless. Thank you for your guidance and for being a great sister and friend.

  I would like to thank my friend Jen. Your encouragement and feedback helped me a lot. Thanks for letting me bend your ear this whole time. Hopefully, you can add my guy to your list of book boyfriends. Lord knows, we have many.

  I would like to thank the rest of my family and friends for always being there when I wanted to talk about whatever phase I was tackling in this new endeavor. Your love and support means the world to me.

  I would also like to thank Clarise at CT Cover Creations. It was like you read my mind and I couldn’t be happier with the cover. I love it!

  And last but not least, I would like to thank you, the reader. If you purchased this book, it means you took a chance on a brand new author. I hope you enjoy the ride. I know I did.

  { Chapter 1 }

  Tonight is going to be the proverbial first night of the rest of my life. My pathetic, twenty- four-year-old existence is going to change, for the better.

  Sitting at the bar, contemplating my upcoming evening, I take in a deep breath and glance around the wide-open space. Everywhere I look, I see white, grey and black. The floors are a swirl of all three colors running throughout the obviously expensive marble.

  This place just screams elegance.

  I’m in complete awe of my surroundings but try my best to look unimpressed. In order to fit in with my new company, I have to look annoyed and as if this isn’t the most beautiful club I’ve ever been in. I feel completely out of place, but I look like I belong.

  At least, I hope I do.

  I’ve put a lot of thought and energy into the right outfit, making sure my makeup is just right, and that my long, chestnut-colored hair is done to perfection. Tonight, I’m stunning. I have to be. I have to be the most beautiful creature in the place because I have to catch and keep the attention of one of the wealthiest bachelors in California.

  A known playboy.

  And his name is Drayden Warner.

  I’ve been following his routine for about two months now, and if history is any indicator, he’ll be arriving very soon. Perfect timing is key because I don’t want to be a sitting duck for too long. Fighting off too many men tonight will not be good; I need to save all of my energy and false persona for him.

  Just as my wandering thoughts are starting to play on my nerves, I see him. My last persistent admirer has finally taken the hint and walks away. That’s when my line of sight is filled with his presence.

  He’s quite a fine specimen to behold. I might even go as far as to say he’s the most intoxicating man I’ve ever seen. He exudes power and wealth. He’s the type of man you always say yes to; he just commands that kind of respect. I’ve never spoken to him myself but I see how other people act around him, mostly fumbling over themselves just to please him. I don’t blame them, either. He seems to have that kind of hold over everyone.

  He’s dressed more casually this evening, actually more relaxed than I have ever seen him before. Normally, he’s wearing designer suits, looking every bit the part of the owner and CEO of Warner Industries. But tonight, he’s dressed in dark jeans which lay low on his hips and an enticing, rich-blue sweater which clings to him, accentuating his perfect physique underneath.

  Flashing his mega-watt smile to all the ladies, he’s now making his way through the crowd, heading in my direction. My breath catches in my throat the closer he gets to me.

  I’ve been watching him from a distance for a little while now, but I’m thrown at how attractive and enticing he is up close. Well over six feet tall, he has broad shoulders and a body which is unmistakably well-defined and yummy. His jawline is strong, his nose a perfect complement to his facial structure. But it’s his eyes which are the most mesmerizing of his assets. The closer he gets to me, the more I’m drawn in by those blue orbs of his. And when his gaze meets mine, that’s when I’m almost a goner.

  Stay focused, Essie.

  Okay, he’s standing so close to me now his arm almost brushes against mine.

  Breathe, Essie; just breathe.

  He’s able to get the attention of the bartender rather quickly. Wasting no time, they start flirting back and forth. She is pretty enough but nowhere near the league of women he’s normally attracted to, so it surprises me he’s even engaging her. Well, not completely surprised because he is, after all, a man-whore.

  “What can I get for you, gorgeous?” she asks as she leans over the bar to get closer to him.

  “Scotch, neat.” His answer is short and simple, but he’s still enchanting her with his allure.

  I have to do something to get his attention on me and soon. The only thing I can think of is to spill the rest of my drink, so that’s exactly what I do. I pretend to pick up my glass of wine but instead knock it forward so the contents spill over the other side of the bar. No harm, no foul.

  “Damn it,” I mumble, but it’s loud enough to catch his attention.

  I see his head turn and look at me. I’m still looking straight ahead, acting like I’m trying to clean up my purposely-spilled mess, like I don’t even know he’s right next to me.

  “Are you okay?” he asks. “Did you get any of it on you?”

  I quickly glance over at him and respond. “No, thank God. But I guess that’s what I get for being clumsy. Or maybe I’ve just had too much to drink already and should see it as a sign. A blessing in disguise, if you will.”

  Holy shit! I can feel myself being pulled in by his presence, distracting me as I sit here next to him. If I don’t reel it in soon, I’m going to fawn all over him like every other wanton woman in this place.

  The bartender comes back over to deliver his drink. When she sets it down on the bar for him, he speaks up. “Can you get my friend here another of whatever it is she’s drinking?”

  I’m his friend now? Perfect.

  The bartender looks at me and gives me a quick irritated once-over. Then she looks back at him and smiles brightly. “Sure thing, sweetie.”

  Oh, God. How agg
ravating. I’m sure she views me as competition but in reality, she is no competition for me, not in the least. So she can fawn and gawk all she wants, but she’s not going to be the one going home with him tonight.

  When she finally comes back, she places a fresh glass of red wine in front of me, smiles at him again and walks away to deal with the other patrons who are now crowding the bar.

  “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that, though. I could have gotten another drink for myself.”

  “A beautiful woman should never have to buy her own drinks. I’m only too happy to be the one to do it for you this time, as I’m sure many a man has offered this evening.”

  “A few,” I coyly say.

  That gets a laugh out of him. “I figured as much. But how many have succeeded?”

  Looking him right in the eye, I say, “Just one.” I take a sip of my wine and slowly swallow it, licking my lips just so after the refreshing liquid slithers down my throat. I repeat, “Just one.”

  A groan escapes from him at my blatant display of flirtation. It’s certainly working; I definitely have his attention.

  When I turn to the side, swinging my body in his direction, I happen to brush my long legs against his. “Sorry about that. Just trying to get better situated here.”

  “No problem at all. You can rub against me as much as you want.” He’s smiling at me now, making me think all sorts of dirty things.

  He certainly has a way of disarming me. Making me feel like I’m the only woman in the room seems to be a gift of his. His intense stare cuts into the deepest part of me, and it’s a bit unnerving. But in the flustered, heart-pounding, hands-sweating, kind of way.

  “So, are you here alone? Or are you waiting for someone?” He reaches out and brushes my hand with his as he grabs his drink. I know he did it on purpose, because he’s playing the same game I am; the only difference being my intentions are completely different.

  He’s trying to get into my pants.

  I’m trying to get into his wallet.

  I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts I almost forgot he just asked me a question. “No, I’m here alone. I’m just unwinding after a tough day. How about you? Are you waiting for someone?”

  “Not anymore.”

  Confused by his answer, I furrow my brows. “What do you mean?”

  “I found who I was looking for.” He reaches over and circles his fingertips on my bare knee. My black skirt rises up when I shift to the side, revealing a bit more flesh than I originally intended.

  Normally, a response like that coupled with a physical touch so intimate would have put me right off, locking up all my defenses. But there is something different about this man in front of me. It’s as if there is some connection being formed between us, some pull I just can’t deny. And from the looks of it, neither can he. It’s as if looking into his eyes casts away my past demons and gives me a glimpse of something more, something pure.

  “What makes you think I’m the woman you’re looking for? Plus, what makes you think I’m even interested in you like that?”

  I need to make him elaborate on his attraction to me while also talking himself up enough to convince me to be interested. His ego will inflate with his own pat on the back. I’m sure he’s not used to selling himself so I might also present a challenge to him, which is a good thing because it will keep his attention.

  Sure enough, he takes the bait.

  Men are such predictable creatures.

  “You can’t deny there is a certain rare attraction going on between us. I know we just met, but don’t tell me you can’t feel it.” His fingers are still circling my knee, being respectful enough not to move up my leg just yet. When he moves a bit closer to me, I’m rewarded with his intoxicating scent of pure maleness. It’s a clean smell mixed with his aphrodisiacal cologne and a hint of the scotch on his warm breath. It’s also in that moment I notice a small scar adorning the right side of his jaw. It looks smooth and straight, like he’s had it for quite some time, and whoever did the stitch did one helluva job. To most, scars would detract from their beauty, but on him it adds to his allure and sexiness.

  I chuckle a bit and feign innocence. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, we don’t even know each other’s names.” I know his name.

  “We don’t have to know each other’s names to know we want to explore what it is that’s happening between us. But I guess it will only be proper to formally introduce myself to you.” He extends his hand to me. “Hi, I’m Drayden Warner.” He grips my hand a bit possessively and definitely longer than is necessary. “It is my true and honest pleasure to meet you, Miss…”

  “Essie Smith,” I say as I grip his hand in mine.

  After a few long seconds, I glance down at our hold then back up to his face, indicating he should probably let go now.

  “Sorry about that. I don’t know what’s come over me. Apparently, I just want to touch you.” I can’t deny I like the feel of him touching me. “Essie. That’s an unusual name. But I guess a gorgeous woman like you needs a unique, compelling name.”

  Oh, he’s good. I’ll surely give him that.

  “My mother named me after her best friend,” I lie. I never knew my parents and I have no idea where my odd name came from, but I’m not about to reveal that part of myself to him, or to anyone for that matter.

  “Well, it certainly fits.”

  “Thank you,” I say with uncertainty. “I think.”

  “It’s definitely meant as a compliment, sweetheart.”

  We stay engrossed in conversation for at least another two hours, making idle chitchat. We never delve into what each other does for a living or about families. We keep it short and sweet, talking about the weather, movies and books. I’m surprised to learn he’s actually a big fan of mystery fiction. My love of that genre is also revealed, and I’m a little taken aback that we actually have something in common. We’re from two completely different walks of life, yet we find a small, common link between us.

  As the bar is becoming almost-unbearably crowded, he speaks up and dares to ask the question I’ve been waiting for since he sidled up next to me. “Do you want to get out of here?” He looks like he already knows my answer but is trying not to appear too presumptuous.

  I take one final drink--taking my time, of course, to make him sweat--put it back on the bar and turn toward him. Leaning over, I place my hand on his upper thigh and whisper into his ear, “I would love to go someplace more private with you.”

  I happen to brush my hand further up and feel his reaction to me. He sucks in a quick breath, captures my hand and gently pulls me from my seat. He leaves a few bills on the bar, and we quickly make our escape from the suffocating establishment.

  { Chapter 2 }

  He escorts us toward his car, a ride which screams beauty and elegance. I’m not up to date on vehicles, but whatever this is surely fits its owner’s whole persona. He opens the passenger side for me and waits patiently while I get situated. Before he closes the door, he leans over me to secure the seatbelt. I’m fully capable of doing that for myself, but I let him continue in his chivalry.

  “Sorry, sometimes this one gets stuck.” He glances at me, parts his lips and inhales quickly. His hands still. “You’re quite stunning, Essie. How is it we have never met before?”

  “Thank you. But I’m sure you say that to all the ladies,” I say as I give him a small smirk. “And as far as never meeting, well, I guess you just never had the pleasure. Until tonight, that is.”

  He chuckles. But when he continues to be still, not buckling my seatbelt, I raise my eyebrows at him in silent question.

  “Sorry, I just got side-tracked being this close to you.” He hurries and clicks the belt before backing away and closing my door. There is something in his expression that is screaming to me that what he just said is sincere, that it isn’t one of his usual lines. But I bury that recognition way deep down. I can’t let myself feel anything for this man oth
er than sexual desire.

  Once he closes his door and starts the engine, he looks over at me, trying to gauge where my head is. I simply smile at him, reach over and squeeze his knee. Withdrawing my hand, I see his body has tensed from my touch then quickly relaxes from its absence.

  “Since we’re relative strangers, I thought it best and safest for both of us to go to a hotel. That way, neither one of us is opening up too much of our personal life to the other.” When I don’t say anything, he simply says, “Hey, you never know. I can be a stalker, and you don’t want me to know where you live, do you?”

  “I guess you’re right. Hotel it is then.” What he doesn’t say --and I know he is thinking-- is I can be a stalker. And the last thing this wealthy, gorgeous, sexy man needs is for women to be showing up unannounced at his personal residence.

  We drive in silence for about fifteen minutes before we pull up to a beautiful, grand hotel. Okay, so he’s pulling out all the stops this evening. Even if this is what he does on a normal basis, I still can’t help but feel somewhat special. The attention he’s lavishing on me, mixed with some of what I think are sincere moments shared between us so far this evening, are doing a great job of playing with my head.

  The valet opens my door and offers to help me from the car by extending his hand to me. All of a sudden, I hear a gruff voice in front of me. “That’s okay; I got it.” Drayden is crowding the valet, forcing him to step back, away from me.

  When our skin touches again, I feel a jolt of electricity; so much so, it makes me look into his eyes to see if he felt it, too. His luscious lips curve up, indicating he’s just as affected.

  “Shall we?”

  “Yes, please,” I say.

  The inside of the hotel is even more beautiful than its exterior. I count at least three crystal chandeliers, and that’s just in the first part of the space we are now occupying. The floor is coated in a beautiful swirled marble, the grey stain of it wrapping around the cream and black as if the colors are dancing. There are vases of fresh flowers placed throughout, making it that much more appealing and welcoming.