One Night Stand (New Yorker III) Read online

  ONE NIGHT STAND

  The New Yorker 3

  M.O. Kenyan

  Erotic Romance

  Secret Cravings Publishing

  www.secretcravingspublishing.com

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  A Secret Cravings Publishing Book

  Erotic Romance

  One Night Stand

  Copyright © 2014 M.O. Kenyan

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-63105-315-3

  First E-book Publication: September 2014

  Cover design by Dawné Dominique

  Edited by Judah Raine

  Proofread by Renee Waring

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2014 by Secret Cravings Publishing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Secret Cravings Publishing

  www.secretcravingspublishing.com

  Dedication

  Don’t ever get tired of waiting for love...

  I would like to thank Judah, Dawne and the SCP team for sticking with me.

  The Cravings Ebook Club

  The Cravings Paranormal Ebook Club

  Have you heard about the newest idea in ebooks, the ebook club? Secret Cravings Publishing has two ebook clubs, The Cravings Ebook Club or the Cravings Paranormal Ebook Club, and we invite you to become a member.

  As a new member, you will receive Trouble With a Cowboy* by Sandy Sullivan and Blood Kisses** by H.N. Sieverding FREE, just for joining!

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  *Trouble With a Cowboy, a western, erotic romance:

  18 wheels had her heart until one hard-up cowboy found her kickin' up her heels and propositions her to take his bull to Vegas.

  Jacie Hawkins drives big wheelers for a livin'. Something not a lot of women do. Littleton Oklahoma is just a dry stopover for a few hours of rest and relaxation at the nearest bar. Jacie needs to find a hot cowboy to release some of her pent up frustrations on for the night, but wannabe's aren't her style.

  Tucker Marshall needs a big-rig driver to haul his prize bull to National Finals Rodeo and he needs one fast. Who would have thought he'd find one shootin' pool at the local bar dressed to kill and takin' numbers?

  Can some slashed tires and an ornery bull bring two hard-headed people together for some fun in the sun and a little more?

  **Blood Kisses (Nightwalkers 1), paranormal erotic romance:

  Ashleigh Brown, the author of the popular Nightwalkers series, lives a quiet life free of the limelight. She keeps her real identity secret by writing under the pen name, Victoria Allure. She soon finds herself in a bind when she's kidnapped by a group of handsome vampires seeking Victoria. She then agrees to meet their Master, who's a huge fan of her books. But instead of meeting him, she accidentally crosses paths with her rock star crush. He is the sexy muse behind Nightwalkers and the man she based the hero in the series upon. She would do anything to meet him but little does she know her crush has a secret...

  We will try to match your books to your preferences, however, if you’re a major paranormal fan, we suggest you join the Cravings Paranormal Club. Everything is the same except that three of your four books will be paranormal. The remaining book will be of a different genre.

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  Best wishes,

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  ONE NIGHT STAND

  M.O. Kenyan

  Copyright © 2014

  Prologue

  “What do you mean?” A warm tear rolled down her cheek. She wanted to wipe it off, to show how strong she was, but there was no room for pretense—not now when she was about to lose everything.

  She was standing in the middle of the living room, in a home she had made with the man she loved. And even though she looked at him, saw his dark curly hair, his amber, honey eyes, and that crooked smile, she still couldn’t believe it was him. “In sickness and in health, through good and bad times, till death do us part,” she mumbled.

  “Well, Cat, it seems like you’re almost there,” he barked out. And as soon as the words left his lips she could see the regret in his eyes. He combed his fingers through his hair, as he always did when he was frustrated. Ever since she got sick, she realized this simple act had grown habitual.

  “I love you,” she whispered choosing to disregard his last statement

  “And I love you—”

  “But not as much as you used to.” She finished the sentence for him—it sounded less painful coming from her than it did from him. Cat let another tear roll down her cheek as she fought for control and to keep her breathing in check. “So what do you want to do?”

  “We can’t be together,” he mumbled as he shook his head. “Eighteen was too young to get married. We should have listened to your parents.”

  “Michael.” A bitter laugh rolled through her. “You aren’t leaving because we got married young and you don't love me anymore. You’re leaving because you’re tired of this,” she yelled as she pulled off the scarf that covered her bald head. She then pulled the corner of her shirt down to show the chemotherapy port next to her armpit. “You’re leaving because you’re sick and tired of me being sick.” Her words labored as she said
each one with a huff.

  “That’s not it,” he shouted then repeated it, exasperated: “That’s not it. I want kids.”

  Cat stumbled back, the weight of his accusation hitting her in the chest like a ton of bricks. “You decided not to freeze my eggs. It’s your fault that we can’t have any kids. The doctor told you the chemotherapy, the radiation and whatever juice they had me on would fry my eggs.”

  “Can we just not argue about this anymore?” Michael waved his hand in a dismissive, exasperated gesture and turned his back on her. He headed to their bedroom, and when he returned he had his bags with him. “My lawyer will call you. I don’t want to drag this out. You can have anything you want. I will also help with the medical bills.”

  “I don’t want anything,” Cat mumbled as she sank into the chair beside her. “Please leave. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

  “There’s no need to—”

  “Maybe I’ll die even before the papers get here.” Cat laughed, the pain in it evident.

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Maybe you aren’t the only one who thinks I’m a burden. Maybe it would be easier if the treatments and the transplant failed once again. Maybe everyone will be able to move on with their lives without me holding them back,” she mumbled, feeling lost all of a sudden.

  “Don’t try and guilt trip me, Cat, it won’t work,” he said.

  “I know, because you have an ice box where your heart used to be.” Cat sang it out in tune then laughed. She slid down on the floor and rolled around, her painful laughter filling each corner of the small apartment. The sound of the door banging closed pulled her out of her trance. It was done. She was now officially alone.

  Cat sat up and the loneliness crept in. She felt desperate, and all she wanted to do was to be free of herself, and to free everyone else in turn. She had a fifty-fifty chance of the transplant and treatment failing a second time, and a one percent chance of ever conceiving. This gave her an equally one percent chance to find a guy who would love her. With all the odds stacked up against her, she wondered why she should bother with the world any longer when it seemed to have turned its back on her already. Her tired body and mind pleaded for release, asking her why she was struggling with a life that didn’t want her.

  She felt a slight shiver and her arms encircled her frail body. She decided on a warm bath. And, in those few steps from the living room to the bathroom, she was going to decide what to do with her life.

  Cat turned the tap on and sat on the side of the bath. She pulled off her clothes and stood in front of the full length mirror. The chemo-port had left an ugly scar above her breast. The treatment had turned her once voluptuous, luscious body to that of a skeleton. The shine of her bald head pulled her attention to where she once had long, thick, curly, jet black hair. Her once bronze skin was now ashen and seemed to be peeling off.

  Cat didn’t like the way she looked, or how she felt. Michael had left her. And although she had her family with her they were supposed to be there, had been engineered by God to love her. The only person who had chosen to be with her had walked out the door.

  She pulled herself away from the frail image in the mirror and headed for her medicine cabinet. She had a bottle of sleeping pills—they were supposed to help her sleep when she was in pain. She never used them because the pain reminded her that she was still alive, and sleep was the last thing that she had ever wanted to do. The act of sleeping seemed too close to death, so that she often didn’t want to risk closing her eyes…just in case.

  But now she felt like she was feeling too much. She wanted to mute the voices in her head and to numb the feelings in her weary body and her broken heart. In that second, what people called an act of selfishness, she thought of as an act of selflessness. Cat climbed into the bath tub with the sleeping pills in hand. Once she was comfortable, she popped them in her mouth one at a time and waited for the cold breeze of death to take her away.

  * * * *

  He rolled to the left side of the bed, but no one was there. His hand felt the cold, empty space his wife had left there, and also in his heart. But it was his fault. He couldn’t give Ava what she wanted the most. He used to be able to command, had the entire world at his feet, but all he had now was a rat-infested motel.

  Ethan groaned when his phone rang. But he had to look on the bright side—at least his phone wasn’t cancelled. The old man seemed to still want to keep the communication lines open. But when Ethan answered it wasn’t his father but his uncle, Harry.

  “Hallo? What? What do you mean?” The questions flew out of his lips without pause, voicing the thoughts and fears racing through him.

  Ethan jumped off the bed and hunted for the only set of clothes the building manager at his apartment had let him take. He ran out of his motel room, only to be reminded that he didn’t own a car any more. He ran towards the road, hoping to catch a cab. A cab that he wouldn’t be able to afford. He heard someone call him from behind and, when he turned, the motel owner was coming after him with a baseball bat.

  Ethan jumped into the first cab that pulled up and gave the driver the address. He couldn’t think of how he was going to pay him. He could only hope Harry would take care of it. Right now the only thing he would think about was what his uncle had told him. Harry’s words echoed in his ears. “Your father is dead.”

  Chapter One

  He sat at the bar, his eyes glued on the bronze beauty. Her skin was like a mocha latte and her full lips gleamed from the almost-pink gloss. He could almost taste them. He couldn’t see her eyes because her head was bent over a stack of papers she had on her table. But he had a full view of her hair—thick, curly and forced into a death grip at the back of her head. Her beige business suit and the lack of color in anything she wore told him she was business oriented, a career woman who didn’t have time for fairytales. She was serious and would want to be treated as an equal.

  He smiled, knowing that she was the perfect description of a one night stand. But part of him wanted to set her free…he wanted to release her hair, to let it loose and see how wild it made her look. Usually he was confident in approaching a woman but something about this one made him hesitate. He started to stand up but sat back down. The aura around her said fuck off.

  “Don’t try it,” the barman warned.

  “Why?” He smiled at his friend, amused by the concern in his eyes.

  “Don’t try it, Rich.” Sam shook his head. “She has a habit of castrating every man that tries to approach her. Sometimes I think I should put a sign at her table—‘Beware’.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Rich laughed at his over-dramatization. “She just needs someone to thaw her out.”

  “I guess you’re the guy?”

  “I’m the guy.”

  “You are one of my closest friends and the owner of this restaurant. Before you venture into the dragon-lady’s cave, could you leave a piece of paper that says the restaurant is mine upon your untimely death?”

  “Yeah right.” Rich cleared his throat and stood up. He slowly closed the gap between him and the beauty but, before he was even close to the table, her hand raised to stop him. He froze and looked around and caught Sam’s broad grin. The ‘I-told-you-so’ expression decided him. He wasn’t going to fail, was determined to leave her table with a number and his balls intact.

  “I—”

  “I said no,” she spat out without even looking up at him.

  “I just wanted to ask if you need another table...” he started and, when she didn’t cut him off, he went on, “I can see you’re pretty busy and you have a lot of stuff on that one table. I thought you might want another one. I’ll bring it to you, of course.”

  He felt his breath hitch as her head raised slowly. He stared into her distant eyes and felt like he was swimming in a pool of honey. Although there was a hard set to her face and jaw, her eyes sold her out. She was kind, sweet even. He wondered why she hid all that behind a wall.

/>   “I never thought about that,” she said as she looked around her workspace. “I guess I could use some more room.”

  “You might even be able to make room for a plate of food,” Rich added with his best smile.

  “I guess I should eat something,” she said, seeming a bit lost. “I swear that was my intention when I walked in here. But I got lost in all of this.”

  “I’ll bring you the table and call a waiter for you,” Rich offered and walked away.

  * * * *

  Catalella watched the man as he walked past her toward a waiter. The first things she had seen when she looked up at the strange man were two beautiful aqua blue eyes and a killer smile. She was glad he was gone because she didn’t know how long she could pretend that he didn’t affect her in any way. There was an aura of confidence about him that she liked. His six foot three frame was padded with muscle. She couldn’t see much from all the clothing draped over him, so she let her imagination fill in the rest. But what she could see was his taut, broad chest, and how his jeans hugged the muscles in his thighs, and she liked it. Physically he was delicious, and if she was the person she used to be she wouldn’t have let a second pass before she praised his beauty.

  But life had forced her to change. She was done with men, and the only ones she had patience with were the ones with the last name Ross. Her father and her brother were the only men she needed in her life. Sure, they wouldn’t be able to give her the intimacy she needed but she could depend on them. At this point in her life, what she needed most was a pillar of strength and not a whirlwind romance.