Double Dare Claire

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE …Ronald kicked his chair against the wall. “That Companionship, Inc. is legitimate and enforces the no-sex rule. Somehow.” “And how would I go about proving that?” Claire asked, leaning in closer. Ronald looked at her for a long time, then propped up his chair and leaned into the table, nose-to-nose with Claire. “How about…I bet fivehundred dollars that you can’t seduce your first client into having sex with you?” “I can’t do that.” She flung herself in the seat and threw her hands in the air as if warding off the very idea. “Sure you can. Why not?” Claire looked around the table at her co-workers and saw them all nodding approval. “ Wouldn’t that be like prostitution?” Jim spoke up. “Now, Claire, we all know that as reporters, the very nature of our profession requires we use certain…err…unconventional methods to get the story—for the greater good of mankind. Bottom line is the story.” Ron spoke up, egging her on. “We’ll even throw in a matching season ticket for the Stars games as a bonus.” Claire sat silently, contemplating her choices. “Claire, I’ll even double-dare you. Five-hundred dollars to the coffer,” Sandy interjected. That did it. She could never turn down a double-dare bet. She slammed her hand on the table. “All right, I’ll do it. You know I don’t like going to a game by myself.” Loud applause and more wolf-whistles pierced through the restaurant. Now Claire had to do the job.

ALSO BY VELVET VEERS Companionship Inc. Book I: Cinder-un-rella Book II: Hearts Afire Book III: Double-Dare Claire Road Warriors Inc. Book I: Thunder’s Road Book II: Fat Boy’s Legend Book III: Harley’s Desire Virtual Reality Inc. Book I: Project Temptation Book II: Stake Out Book III: Virtual Hearts Club

COMPANIONSHIP INC. BOOK III:

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE BY VELVET VEERS

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

DOUBLE-DARE C LAIRE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2003 by Debi McMartin & Vickie Wakely ISBN 1-59279-083-6 Cover Art © 2003 Trace Edward Zaber Rating: NC-17 Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

CHAPTER 1

Claire O’Malley’s long, red nimbus of curls fell over her bare shoulders. Twining her long slender legs around the pedestal of the table, stretching her neck back and eyes closed, she released a guttural moan. “Ahhhh…Ahhhh…Ahhhh…Oh, yes…yes…Oh, my God, yes! Yes! Now—yes.” A sexy, masculine voice whispered in her ear, “Come on, Claire, do it for me, baby. Take it and run with it—bring it on, you glorious Irish princess. Give it all you’ve got and more!” With those encouraging words, she let it all go, losing any inhibition or modesty. Her body stiffened as she grabbed the sides of the chair, stomped her feet and screamed. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Then she slumped into her chair, limp as a wet noodle. Wolf-whistles mingled with a standing ovation. “Claire, what an awesome performance!” “I think that was a better fake orgasm than even Meg Ryan did in the café scene on When Harry Met Sally,” cheered one member of the 1

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

party. Everyone at the table agreed and clapped. Claire stood up and took a bow, then winked. “What makes you think it was fake?” The group laughed again. Paul, sitting next to her, ordered Claire’s favorite drink, a frozen Margarita with a double lime and extra salt. Claire sighed, plopping back down in her seat. She said slyly, “Well, I have had a lot of practice through the years. You know— faking it.” “Everyone raise your glasses high. A toast to Claire for winning a bet, yet again, and for a first-rate, front page cover story, or should I say ‘undercover story.’” Ronald Lighter raised his glass and the twelve glasses at the table clinked in unison. Claire laughed exuberantly while her fellow co-workers beat a drum-roll on the table and demanded, “Speech. Speech.” Standing up, Claire addressed them, “It wasn’t much really. Just bringing down a corrupt city council. No big deal.” She gave them a big toothy smile and continued, “Thank you so much for your support and my season ticket to the Stars hockey team.” Throwing a few lasso hoops in the air, she yelled. “Whoop! Whoop! Go, Stars!” She slouched back down in her seat and kissed her ticket. “That ticket cost us a pretty penny, so I think it’s only fair that you buy the next round, Claire O’Malley,” Sandy exclaimed. “You do, do you? Well, okay.” Claire motioned the waitress to the table. “The drinks are on me, and I’m running a tab. You guys order what you want. I’ll have Sex on the Beach.” “Or anywhere else for that matter,” quipped Jim, one of her coworkers at the Dallas Press. They all laughed and started spouting off their drink orders. Claire glanced at the door of the Cadillac Bar and Grill, a trendy, multi-colored, little Mexican restaurant where the young urban professionals congregated like magnets. A striking couple followed the hostess making their way through the crowd. Recognizing her old 2

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

friend whom she hadn’t seen in ages, Claire jumped up as they passed her table. “Frances Taylor, it’s been too long!” Frances gave her a hug, “I can’t believe it, Claire. I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you been?” “Great, how about you? Looks like you’re doing pretty good to me.” Claire motioned to Frances’s dinner companion, a tall, goodlooking man, who stood waiting at the designated table with the hostess. “He is delicious, darling. Husband?” “No, just an evening gig.” Frances threw her head back and laughed when Claire gave her a puzzled look. “I’m working as an escort for Companionship, Inc. He’s my client until midnight tonight. Then he turns into a pumpkin.” “Oh,” was all Claire could manage, her imagination running wild. As if reading Claire’s mind, Frances added. “Companionship, Inc. is an upscale escort service. They are very stringent about their ‘no sex, no contact’ regulations. The pay is superb and you can’t beat the hours.” Claire reddened, “Oh, I didn’t think…hey, maybe I need to apply. Are they hiring?” Frances beamed, “Yes, as a matter of fact, they are. Go in Monday and fill out an application and I’ll give you a personal recommendation.” “Thanks, Frances. Good to see you. Enjoy your dinner—and date.” Frances waved, “I’ll look forward to seeing you around Claire.” Claire watched as Frances joined her date, contemplating the possibility she could garner some much-needed cash by working a few nights a week. Not that she didn’t do pretty good in the salary department but with the cost of living in Dallas and being a shop-aholic one could never have enough money. But she’d check out the company first before making a definite decision. “A dollar for your thoughts, Claire,” said Ronald. 3

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“Wow. Price has gone up,” jibed Claire, taking a drink of her Sex on the Beach. “Inflation.” “Actually, I was thinking about that escort service. Have you heard of Companionship, Inc.?” “Yes. A lot of guys I know have used it. It does have a sterling reputation. Professional.” The furrows in her brow deepened. “I just don’t buy it. Something smells fishy.” “Another one of your hunches, Claire?” Jim asked. “I just don’t think that any escort service could be squeaky clean. You know putting two people of the opposite sex together like that…probably lonely, needy, and downright horny. It adds up to total spontaneous combustion. I might just check this place out.” “What makes you think they’re lonely? There are all kinds of legitimate reasons someone would hire an escort. Maybe they’re in town for business, don’t know anyone and need a companion for an event. Maybe they’re just bored and need the stimulation of new company, but don’t have the time and energy to go out and meet people.” Claire rubbed her chin. “That’s true. But I guess the reporter bloodhound in me smells a story. I have to check it out. Sandy jumped in. “Besides that, how is the company going to enforce the no-sex rule. Will they put cameras in the bedroom?” “You’re right,” Claire agreed. “What if I did a little immersion journalism? Then I could find out if they’re legit.” Sandy’s eyes grew wide. “You mean actually go to work for Companionship, Inc. as an escort?” Claire took another sip of her drink, stirring it with her straw. “Why not? I can always use the extra cash anyway. Kill two birds with one stone.” Jim elbowed Ronald. “I smell another bet coming on.” 4

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

Claire leaned in, elbows on the table, readying for another challenge. “Bet on what exactly?” Ronald kicked his chair against the wall. “That Companionship, Inc. is legitimate and enforces the no-sex rule. Somehow.” “And how would I go about proving that?” Claire asked, leaning in closer. Ronald looked at her for a long time, then propped up his chair and leaned into the table, nose-to-nose with Claire. “How about…I bet fivehundred dollars that you can’t seduce your first client into having sex with you?” “I can’t do that.” She flung herself in the seat and threw her hands in the air as if warding off the very idea. “Sure you can. Why not?” Claire looked around the table at her co-workers and saw them all nodding approval. “ Wouldn’t that be like prostitution?” Jim spoke up. “Now, Claire, we all know that as reporters, the very nature of our profession requires we use certain…err…unconventional methods to get the story—for the greater good of mankind. Bottom line is the story.” Ron spoke up, egging her on. “We’ll even throw in a matching season ticket for the Stars games as a bonus.” Claire sat silently, contemplating her choices. “Claire, I’ll even double-dare you. Five-hundred dollars to the coffer,” Sandy interjected. That did it. She could never turn down a double-dare bet. She slammed her hand on the table. “All right, I’ll do it. You know I don’t like going to a game by myself.” Loud applause and more wolf-whistles pierced through the restaurant. Now Claire had to do the job.

5

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

CHAPTER 2

Standing in front of her closet Claire talked to herself, attempting to assuage her anxiety. “What do escorts wear for a job interview anyway? Do I dress like I’m going on a date, work or maybe a cocktail party?” Claire laughed out loud. Cocktail party. She wondered how the name cocktail came to describe a drink. Cock and tail—sounded suspiciously Freudian to her. The first impression was crucial and she had to get this job to win the double-dare bet. She’d never lost a double-dare yet, and she didn’t plan on losing this one. She selected a suit with a short, clingy dress and a tailored jacket that emphasized her hips. A pair of black, strappy heels that showed off her “Born to be Wild” toenail polish rounded out her attire. Her red corkscrew curls had an untamed, windy look—like she’d been driving around in a convertible all day—a red convertible. She liked her look. It reflected her personality—wild, untamable, even incorrigible at 6

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

times. Ready now, she grabbed the direction maps she’d printed from the internet to find Companionship, Inc. Dashing toward the car, she clicked the button on her keypad, and her bright red BMW convertible beeped cheerfully, as if greeting Claire. The Beemer was an extravagant material indulgence she knew, and it exacted a toll on her thin checking account. But the pleasure it gave her was well worth the price. She’d left the top up, as the typical Dallas weather had changed in five minutes from sunny and beautiful to cloudy and cold, not unusual for spring in the southwest. Aphrodite, the name she’d blessed her car with, passed everyone on the road as Claire navigated through the rush hour traffic, changing lanes on a dime. She screeched to a halt at the American Towers parking garage in record time. Damn, she had her timing down to a fine art. The spacious entrance sported three sets of elevators designated for different floors. As Claire stepped in and punched the button, she walked to the back and gripped the rails, readying herself for the ride. A businessman stepped into the elevator before the doors closed, nodding as if approving her appearance and pressed the button for his designated floor. They both watched the elevator floor signs in silence while the elevator shot up in record speed, making her ears ache. She yawned to pop them open while sneaking a peak at the man beside her. Nothing. No reaction whatsoever to the rocketing elevator. He looked as if he were in a trance, hands on his briefcase in front of him. She yawned again and spoke to the man. “Doesn’t this hurt your ears?” He smiled, warming to her comment. “It did the first year I worked here, but after five, I guess my ears have finally acclimated to the sudden altitude change.” She stepped out of the elevator on floor fifty-five and saw the black-and-gold sign for Companionship, Inc. She pushed open the glass door and sucked in a deep cleansing breath, ready for the interview 7

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

with the owner, Stephen Sawyer. One hour later, Claire walked back out that glass door, her step light and springy. In front of the elevators she did a Rocky winner dance. She’d landed the job! As she stepped on the elevator, she pondered what Stephen had told her about company rules. No sex between customer and client was sacrosanct. No dating the client outside the contracted time with them. She wondered if Sawyer gave the same speech to all the clients. Or how long it would take him to ask her just this one little favor—for the company’s sake, of course. “Oh, by the way Claire, I’ve got a very special client coming in from out of town tonight who will pay you extra for being especially nice to him.” She could hear it now. * * * Claire arrived at the Dallas Press in thirty minutes flat, a real feat considering the snarled downtown traffic. Walking into the pit, her coworkers began whistling and yelling, “Yea, baby.” She gave them a little twirl so they could see the whole picture. When they calmed down a notch she said, “I got the job.” The place went back up a decimal level with the hoots and hollers. The chief editor, Sam Dalton, came out of his office to see what the commotion was all about. His eyebrows raised and his mouth fell open. He straightened his jacket, cleared his throat, and said, “Claire, I’d like to see you in my office.” Uh-oh. Claire hadn’t considered the repercussions of her little soirée with her boss. Too late now. She hoped it wasn’t too late to undo the damage. She knew Sam had always liked her— maybe a little more than he should—but though she knew he harbored an intense attraction to her, he’d never stepped over the line, propositioned her or asked her out. The rest of the reporter pack immediately silenced and busied themselves with work. Oh no, here it comes, she thought. I’ll just have to impress on him 8

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

the importance of the article. He sat down behind his desk with a heavy thud, lit two cigarettes then handed her one. He inhaled, then blew a stream of smoke to the ceiling. “So what’s with the get-up, Claire?” Claire crossed her legs, revealing shapely tanned gams—the best shape they’d ever been in from all the rollerblading she’d been doing over the past year. She finally answered, “I decided this place needed a little class.” “Ummm…huh.” He tapped ashes into the tray. “So much for the Irish humor. Now let’s get to the real deal.” He leaned forward, staring her down. Claire sucked on her cigarette and held it in for dramatic effect, then blew the smoke toward the ceiling in little rings. “I’m on a new assignment, Sam.” “Yeah, I know. We discussed it last week, remember? What does that have to do with the way you’re dressed? Do you have a date with the fishing commissioner?” “No. This is a different kind of assignment. Let me explain. I’m working for the escort service Companionship, Inc. as a self-assigned immersion reporter. Have you ever heard of the company?” “Yeah, so?” “My goal is to get the dirt on them. Blow away their claims that they’re a squeaky clean, high class escort service and that the clients do have sex with the escorts.” Sam leaned back in his chair, taking another long drag on his cigarette. “And how will you be doing that exactly?” “You’re sitting across from the newest employee of Companionship, Inc. They signed me on today.” She leaned in toward him and smashed out the cigarette. Smoking had become a ritual between her and Sam. Claire had kicked the habit years ago, but Sam had never even tried. Now she just 9

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

smoked with him when she was called into the inner sanctum, and whenever she drank alcohol. Somehow smoking and drinking went together like baseball and hot dogs—an American tradition. Besides that, it took the edge off the sexual tension between the two of them. Claire had to admit she enjoyed it—the zing of chemistry between the two of them, and she especially enjoyed knowing she turned Sam on the minute she walked into the room. She was attracted to Sam, too, but it was one of those possibilities that could either be really, really good or blow up like a volcano. She wasn’t willing to bet her career on that chance, and liked things like they were. Whenever she needed a good fantasy, she’d call Sam. They’d get more edgy on the phone. Not exactly phone sex—but a good, rich, friendship conversation that went beyond friendship into “what if.” More frequently than not, she found herself extremely turned on. Then at the office the next day, they’d both act like nothing had ever happened—because it hadn’t. But both liked to pretend it had. It kept them charged. Sam’s voice brought her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “I don’t know, Claire, if this is such a good idea.” Claire turned on the allure. “Have I failed you yet, Sam, my man?” “No, but…” Claire had him and they both knew it. “It’s a win-win situation, Sammy. If Companionship, Inc. is in fact a front for a prostitution ring, I bust it wide—a story neither one of us can afford to miss.” “And if they’re legit?” Sam asked. Claire shrugged her shoulders and cast her eyes down. “Then I make a few extra, much-needed bucks.” Sam stared at her long and hard, as if appraising the situation and scrutinizing her motives. Claire tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll even take you out to dinner.” Sam stubbed his cigarette out and eyed her dubiously. “Well, this is 10

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

a first. What happened to your ‘work and play don’t mix’ position?” “Who says dinner can’t be work?” she said, curving her lips up in a flirtatious manner. He wrinkled his brow as if in consternation, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his seeming disapproval. She could read the man like a book, and play him like a harpsichord. Acting completely out of character, she walked over to him and kissed his still-creased forehead. He stared at her, a stunned expression on his face. Obviously, a kiss from Claire, albeit an innocent one, was the last thing in the world he’d expected. He placed his hand on her arm, rubbing it tenderly. “You know, Claire, I wish it could be different. You know…between us.” “I know, Sam. Me, too.” She ran her hands through his hair, returning his gesture of affection. “But we both know it’s better this way, Sweetie.” Sam sighed. “I know that. And I know you’re right. I’m busy enough during the day, but when the dark settles in and I have to go back home to a cold, empty bed, well…let’s just say fantasies about you comfort me greatly, Claire.” Tears stung her eyes. This was the most open Sam had ever been with her. It had been ten years since he’d lost his beloved wife, Sarah, and she could see him still struggling with the loss. Her heart swelled in sympathy for him and she wanted nothing more than to give him comfort. But she could never replace his Sarah, nor would she ever want to. * * * Claire booted up her computer and went through her email. Delete. Delete. Mostly just spam, but wait, something interesting caught her attention. On the subject line she read, “Urgent. Fishing Commissioner Info.” She opened the email and began reading. “I have to meet with you immediately. From the grapevine, I have 11

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

learned you are investigating the fishing commissioner. I have information that may be of use to you. Don’t wait. I’m in danger!” Excitement bubbled up; this was a real lead, the kind of lead that sent adrenaline surging through her like a dose of speed. She had hit a brick wall in her research for this story. This could be her breakthrough. Claire sent the potential informant a message, asking him or her to meet her that afternoon. But where? Where could she meet this person where they wouldn’t be seen? Someone had obviously threatened the whistleblower. Snapping her fingers together, she typed in, Madame Tarot, on the corner of Harry Hines and I35E at 3:00 p.m. today. She’d used the Madame in a feature story once. It was the perfect cover. The informant could be going in for a reading as far as anyone watching was concerned, and Claire could be there waiting in the back room to talk. Claire received an instant reply, indicating the mystery person would be there at the designated time. She would have just enough time to hop in her car and make it to Madame Tarot’s before the person arrived. As she dashed for her car, Claire called Madame Tarot from her cell phone and secured approval to park behind the building and use the backdoor. With five minutes to spare, she pulled up to Madame Tarot’s. Claire quickly ducked inside the unlocked back door. She could hear Madame speaking to someone in the front room. A few minutes later, a thin man dressed in a crisp white shirt, maroon tie, and conservative navy blue suit came through the door. Madame closed it silently behind him. Claire walked over to him and extended her hand to shake his, “Hello, I’m Claire 0’Malley.” He shook hands with her and said, “My name is Rodney Rosenberg. I’m the fishing commission’s senior accountant.” 12

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“So nice to meet you. Please have a seat.” “Thanks.” He set his briefcase on the table and opened it. Pulling out a stack of papers, he slid them over to Claire’s side of the table. “The fishing commission pays for the fry to be delivered early spring to stock the lake. We paid for ten tank trucks to be loaded with fry and we only have invoices for six dumps.” “Wait a minute. Who are you feeding with this fish fry?” For the first time, Rodney broke out in a smile and actually cleared his throat, as if trying not to laugh. “Fry are baby fish, Ms. O’Malley. We stock the lake for fisherman.” “Oh, I see.” She felt her face heat with the flush of embarrassment. “So you see, if we only logged in six tankers, but paid for ten, where’s the rest of the money? That’s quite a chunk of taxpayers’ change.” “I see your point. Did you talk to the commissioner about this?” “Yes, I did, as a matter of fact. I was politely told to stay out of it and he would take care of the matter. That was a month ago and I haven’t seen any indication that things have been corrected. I did call the company we paid to send the fry and they say it had all been delivered.” “Very interesting. May I keep these papers?” “Yes. Those are your copies.” “Rodney, I can’t tell you how much this means to me for you to have come forward with this information.” “I’ve long been a fan of your journalistic talent, Ms. O’Malley, and your dogged persistence in uncovering the truth. There’s not a shred of doubt in my mind that you’re perfect to do the story. The least I can do is give you the information you need to bust this case to the public. “I’m sick and tired of politician’s greedy fingers eating up the taxpayers’ hard-earned money, feeling no remorse for ripping off the trusting constituents who put them in office.” He stood up and slammed his briefcase shut, as if punctuating his anger. 13

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

Claire rose and extended her hand. “Thanks for putting yourself on the line like this. I’ll be very careful to protect your identity as the informant.” “Thank you, Ms. O’Malley. Oh, by the way, these men are very dangerous. Please watch your back. And be careful.” “I will. You do the same.” She shook his hand and closed the door behind him. Sitting at the table, she examined the papers. The fish vendor was called Frey Hatchery, Inc., located in Garland, Texas. Not far from Dallas. Good. She could take a trip to Garland and sniff the place out tomorrow. She picked up her cell phone and punched in the auto-dial for Sam. His secretary answered the phone on the first ring. “Hi, Sue. Can I speak to Sam?” “Sorry, hon. He went home early today.” “Thanks.” Frowning because it was so unlike Sam to leave work early, she decided to make a trip over to Sam’s, and fill him in on new developments. * * * Sam allowed the stream of warm water to fan hard against his tense muscles. Claire had really unnerved him today in that sexy outfit. He couldn’t get it out of his mind and that made him even more depressed than just coming home to an empty house…a silent, lonely house, haunted by the absence of Sarah. That’s why he stood in the shower until the hot water turned cold. Then he stepped out, drying himself off with a thick towel, donning his robe and slippers to endure the rest of the evening. He’d poured a glass of merlot and made some popcorn in the microwave when he heard a rap on the door. Who could that be? He wasn’t expecting anyone. Opening the door, his heart missed a beat. Claire. Suddenly self-conscious of his attire, Sam motioned for her to come in. “What brings you to my neck of the woods this time of day, dear 14

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

Claire?” “Sam,” Claire said, now appearing a bit self-conscious herself. “I’ve just stumbled across the most amazing information. I had to come right over and tell you about it.” Sam said, “Have a seat. I’ll get us some wine.” “That sounds good. Your place looks nice.” Sam didn’t respond, but walked over and placed a second wine glass on the coffee table. Claire picked it up and took a sip. Sam followed, too self-conscious to propose a toast. Sam felt his shaft swell at the sight of Claire’s tank top that dipped to reveal creamy white cleavage. She was sexy as hell in an earthy, natural way. Claire proceeded to tell Sam everything she’d been told about the commissioner, then showed him the papers. “Good work, Claire.” He tipped his glass to clink with hers. “Here’s to the story.” Then in an act of unprecedented daring, he took her wineglass, setting them both on the table, and pulled her over to him. To his surprise, she didn’t resist. He smoothed her hair back and slid his finger down her face. Her skin felt as smooth and satiny as a rose petal. He tipped her chin up and drew her lips to his, nibbling on her lower lip. Oh, the taste of wine and woman, he thought. Then he parted her lips with his tongue, teasing, exploring, knowing whatever was ahead of them would begin and end tonight. Her tongue met his and a new energy coursed through him. It had been so long since he’d tasted a woman, melted into her healing softness. Claire parted his robe, rubbing her hand gently along his leg, exploring upwards to his waiting erection. She enclosed it in her hand, the warmth penetrating through to every fiber of his being. He felt his grief that he’d carried for so long finally crumble into a thousand pieces as he unfastened her pants. She stood on her own and pulled them down before tugging her shirt over her head. Standing there in her crowning glory like an offering, he stood to 15

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

meet her, letting his robe fall to the floor. He took her hand in the mutual silence, leading her into his bedroom, and pulled her onto the bed with him. So many times he’d dreamed of Claire, when images of Sarah had faded into the past, still leaving behind the wisps of pain he couldn’t shake. Sam lowered himself over Claire, sliding his hands down her curves, showering her with a thousand small kisses, devouring her sweet essence and giving. Spreading her legs with his fingers, he dipped into the honey, loving the wetness that sprang from her. Then he slid his manhood inside her, and a timeless passion took over along with the rhythms of the age-old mating dance. Harder and harder he plunged, and she came with him, bucking her rounded hips with a force he’d never known, as one with him. And he felt whole once more—healed by this woman beneath him. Now he could live again. * * * Claire walked along the sidewalk, still basking from the glow of the comfort sex she’d shared with Sam. Her cell phone rang and she made a grab for it. “Hello. Hello.” It was still ringing. Damn, it must be the Companionship, Inc. phone, she thought. Digging into her purse she pulled it out and answered. An automated voice spoke to her. “Job availability for this date, Friday, March 10th at 7:00 p.m. The location is the Anatole on I35E. This is a semi-formal affair with a man named Walleye Joe. He’s been instructed to hold a red rose for identification. Please punch in your pin number to confirm you have accepted this assignment.” Claire punched in her pin number and pressed “end.” Once she checked the time, did some quick calculations of what to wear, and how long it would take her to get ready and drive to the hotel, she was ready to think about her assignment. Oh, man, did she say Walleye Joe? 16

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

What in the world would a Walleye Joe look like, she thought? Like some kind of bug-eyed fish? Yulk. Ohmigod! Then she groaned. Had she really bet she’d get the first man she escorted to hit the sack with her? Walleye Joe? Man, oh man, I’m in deep ca-ca.

17

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

CHAPTER 3

“So nice to see you again, buddy.” Walleye Joe shook hands with the conference director. “You, too, Joe. How was your flight?” “Bumpy and compact. They need to make more room for long legs and broad shoulders.” The conference director looked up at the six-foot-five legendary ice-fisherman from northern Minnesota, who looked more like a retired NFL football tackle. “Well, at least you’ll be able to stretch out in the room we have ready for you here at The Anatole. A luxury suite with all the amenities. You’re already checked in. Here’s your key. Drinks and appetizers will be served in the hospitality room two hours before conference time. Dinner begins promptly at 8:00 p.m. after the awards ceremony. “After dinner we’ll call you to the podium as guest speaker. Your escort will meet you in the main lobby at 7:00 p.m. Here’s the red rose 18

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

for identification.” The director handed Joe a long-stemmed red rose. Joe’s hands flew up in the air and he backed up a few steps. “Whoa! Hang on already. Did you say escort? You mean as in date?” “Yes, sir. The escort is one of the conference perks for guest speakers. Our way of giving you a little bonus in addition to your speaker’s fee.” He winked at Walleye Joe. Still refusing to accept the rose, Joe said, “That may be the case, but the truth is, I don’t need or want a date—or an escort. Do you want to call this agency and cancel or do you want me to do it?” The conference director cleared his throat and looked at his watch. “I’m sorry, Joe, but it’s too late to cancel. I can look into placing the escort with someone else, but I don’t have much time to do it. She may end up just having to go home without getting paid tonight.” Walleye Joe frowned at the director, but knew he didn’t have much choice but to go along with this date thing. The conference director didn’t have time to mess with setting the escort up with someone else, and the woman must need the money or why would she be working as an escort. Joe might as well go along for the ride. In reality, what could it hurt? Bloody hell, he hadn’t had a date in…well, a bloody long time. He’d forgotten how to act. “Give me the blasted rose. I’ll escort her.” He snatched the rose out of the director’s hand. He didn’t miss the director’s smile. Bloody hell! The director motioned to the bellhop. “Please take Mr. Joe’s things to room twenty-fifteen. Joe, if you need anything, please page me personally at number twenty-one on your telephone.” Walleye Joe followed the bellhop to his room, apprehension growing by the second. Maybe a nice stiff drink and a hot shower would help calm his nerves. Damn, he knew he should have insisted on turning down this engagement, but he’d promised his good friend from the Texas Tourist Association he’d serve as guest speaker for this conference. Maybe he could meet his date with the rose, explain the situation to 19

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

her and send her on her merry way. She’d get her pay and a rose for five minutes of work and he could have his evening to himself. Yep, that was his ticket out. Joe smiled to himself. He could find a solution to anything—just by logically sorting through things. Joe had put a self-imposed moratorium on all kind of female companionship a year ago, with the exception of his Siberian Husky, Sheba. When Jessica broke his heart after a five-year relationship he thought would surely end in happily-ever-after, that was it for him. He’d be damned if he’d start dating again now even though his relationship statute of limitations had expired. Too much time and energy wasted and far too much pain. Who needed it? * * * Claire fished through the hanging clothes in her closet and frowned. There really wasn’t much to choose from in the way of semi-formal attire. Well, she didn’t have time to go shopping, so one of these would have to work. She chose her favorite tight, black mini-dress with a vneck open almost to mid-stomach, long sleeves flaring at the forearms—a seventies rendition—simple, but sexy. The traffic crept along this time of day with people impatient to get home after a dog-hard workday. At 7:15 p.m. sharp, Claire pulled in front of The Anatole and had the valet park her car. People thronged the lobby; Claire worried about finding her companion. She scanned the room and saw no one with a red rose in his hand. She saw no one remotely resembling a bug-eyed fish. Then she spotted a man sitting at the bar in the middle of the lobby with a rose lying on the table. “Could that be him?” Claire wondered out loud. She scanned the lobby again for another man with a red rose. Nada. The one at the bar had to be her guy. She walked over to him and cleared her throat. “You wouldn’t happen to be…uh…Walleye Joe, would you?” Claire’s voice cracked from trying to suppress a surge of hysterical laughter. She couldn’t believe she was doing this! 20

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

For a moment his piecing blue eyes left her speechless until he quirked one of his eyebrows arrogantly, and blatantly stared at her chest, saying nothing. “Excuse me, I’m Claire O’Malley. If you are in fact, Walleye Joe, I’m your hired hand for the evening.” Joe glanced at his Rolex and gave her a belittling look. “Yes. You’re late.” Irish anger surged through her veins—she couldn’t believe his audacity! “I’m sorry about that, but Dallas traffic is atrocious at this time of day.” She jerked an empty chair up to the table and sat down. Obviously the man had no manners in addition to being an ogre. What a long evening this one was going to be! He glared at her. Claire asked, “Is something wrong?” “You might as well not bother to sit. You won’t be staying.” “Why not?” Claire asked indignantly. “Because I don’t want an escort. There’s been a miscommunication.” He took out his wallet and slid a hundred-dollar bill across the table toward her. “Here’s a tip in addition to what you’ll get paid from the escort agency. Buy yourself something nice on me.” Claire sat speechless for a minute, then took the hundred off the table and stuffed it in her purse. “Thanks for the tip, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to escort you to this damn party whether you want me to go or not. I believe in working for my pay. This is my first gig, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let myself be fired by some hairy lumberjack giving me the brush off.” “Ice-fisherman.” “What?” Walleye Joe raised his voice. “I’m an ice fisherman, not Paul Bunyan.” Claire threw her head back and laughed. “You could’ve fooled me.” Well, at least he had a sense of humor, a wry one at that. Maybe the 21

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

evening wouldn’t turn out to be so bad after all. When he made no comment, she threw her hands up and said, “Whatever. Listen, bud, like it or not, you’re stuck with me for the evening. You might as well get over it fast.” They sat glaring at each other for another couple of moments, like two bullies circling each other on the playground. Walleye Joe leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I see. This is the way it’s going to be. How much?” “Excuse me?” “How much is it going to cost me to get rid of you? Another hundred?” He opened his wallet. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Look, it’s really simple. I was hired to escort you to this conference. That’s a sealed deal. Dyed in the wool. I don’t go back on my word, so let’s go to this damn thing and get it over with. Then I can leave. You can continue on with your pathetic life in any manner you choose. Okay?” She stood up beside her chair and tapped her foot while she waited. The deep lines on his brow grew deeper, but he stood— and growled. He grabbed her elbow, practically dragging her down the steps. I guess it’s too much to expect him to be house-trained, she thought, much less to expect manners from the likes of an ice-fisherman. She picked up her pace and followed him into the banquet room where people milled around, drinking and socializing. Claire grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray that the waiter held out, downing it like a Guinness. Looking up into the stormy blue eyes of her date, she lifted her eyebrows in an expression of innocence. “What?” “I would prefer that you not drink,” Walleye said paternalistically. A little heady from the bubbly stuff going straight to her head, she said, “You’ve got to be kidding.” “Do I look like I’m laughing?” “Look, caveman, I can’t possibly make it through one of these 22

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

boring social events without getting plowed. My contract doesn’t mention any rules about drink limitations and lady-like behavior. If you don’t like it—tough.” She tipped the glass up and downed the rest of it. Walleye Joe turned his back on her and proceeded to converse with two men about fishing. Claire swaggered to the appetizer buffet, filling her plate with several items. Another waiter came by and she grabbed another full champagne glass but didn’t drink it. She stood to the side and stared at her escort with disdain. But she had to admit he wasn’t bad looking. He had some of the broadest shoulders she had ever seen that narrowed down to a trim waist and powerful legs. She made a bet with herself that he had a fantastic butt, unfortunately hidden right now under his suit coat. Yep, prime U.S. choice beef—straight from the heartland. Claire licked her lips, imagining how delicious it could be to run her tongue over all that taut, muscular form of his. What she planned to do to him later would blow his mind if he knew. Like the old saying goes…the best laid plans. But first she’d have to get to work on turning his opinion of her around—and fast. * * * Walleye Joe could feel those blazing Irish-green eyes burning a hole through his back—as well as the sizzle where he least intended to be affected—right smack in the middle of his groin. Unfortunately, his long-latent desires, buried under the frozen ice in the long Minnesota winter, were coming to life–and making their demands heard—but hopefully not seen. He’d sprung a hard-on from the moment he’d laid eyes on the sexy siren. But he wasn’t about to let her know. He’d be damned if he would give her the satisfaction of turning around. For the life of him, he didn’t know why he was being so hard on her. Maybe it was because he liked to see her temper flair. Those beautiful green eyes of hers shot sparks when he pissed her off—and he loved to watch the fireworks. 23

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

She was some feisty woman, no doubt about it. More woman than he’d come across in a long time. He had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that he felt fascinated by Ms. Claire O’Malley. In fact, nothing would give him more pleasure than getting to know her better–except maybe getting cozy with her between the sheets. Just the thought sent waves of heat coursing through him. Damn, he knew better than to let a woman get under his skin like this. But, since Jessica, he’d sworn off women, and he wasn’t about to break a promise to himself, or let his heart be broken again. But did that mean he had to give up the sexual side of life? Lord knew, ever since he laid eyes on Claire’s lithe, creamy-skinned, succulent body and zeroed in on that beautiful face, he’d sported a constant erection. This was going to prove to be rapidly uncomfortable. He felt Claire’s nearness, smelled her essence before he could see her; he flinched when she placed her hand, ever so gently, on the crook of his arm. Little did she know she’d started a three-alarm fire that ignited nerve impulses generating right down to his crotch. Good thing his suit coat covered that section or everyone in the place would know where his focus was—and it certainly wasn’t ice fishing in northern Minnesota. He looked down at her. She returned his look with a brilliant smile. “Would you please introduce me to your friends, sweetheart?” His eyebrows went up in surprise. What game is she playing now? Walleye Joe cleared his throat and said, “Sure. This is Hank Hadler and Buck Norman. This is my date Claire…aaa.” “Claire O’Malley. Walleye gets a little flustered on introductions. Too much time in the woods perhaps. I’m pleased to meet you both. Joe, darling, I think it’s time for us to mosey into the banquet room.” Walleye Joe stared at Claire. What in the hell happened to the queen bitch that inhabited her body a few moments ago? Had an alien taken her over? As they walked into the banquet room, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Are you drunk?” 24

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

Batting her eyes demurely, she looked at his arctic blue ones and laughed. “No, sweetie. Just doin’ my job.” Joe pulled a chair out for her. Claire looked up at him and said, “You do have manners after all!” Walleye knew he was in big trouble. It was a lot easier to control himself with the stubborn, pig-headed Claire than the sweet submissive one. His penis twitched in confirmation and he shifted in his seat to get comfortable. The fishing aficionados at the table kept up a steady flow of conversation about the area fishing. From the dialogue, it seemed their biggest interest in life was what bait worked the best this time of year, what material makes for the best fishing rod, and the size of the biggest fish caught this year so far. As much as Walleye loved the sport, he was having a difficult time focusing on fishing. Suddenly, it seemed a rather banal preoccupation in contrast to the catch sitting next to him. He’d much rather tangle with her in the sack than untangle a fishing line or listen to another fishing story. Damn, he wanted to devour her and he wanted to do it now. Claire sat demurely at his side like the perfect date, eating tiny bites of food quietly. He became more aware of her with each passing moment. She had this thing with food that really turned him on. For instance, firmly placing her lips on the fork and slowly withdrawing it, then sneaking sidelong glances at him, obviously to see if he was watching. Now she tortured him with a piece of fruit, letting a little juice drip down the side of her mouth, then that pink tongue of hers chased it, licking it away. Driving him mad. Mesmerized, he couldn’t take his eyes off that tongue sliding around her lips, wetting them. He envisioned those same lips and tongue around his cock, sucking him artfully; giving him the pleasure he’d so long denied himself. His fantasy almost became his undoing. He thought he’d explode right there at the table. 25

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

So caught up was he in his sexual fantasy that he didn’t even hear the announcer call his name as the special guest speaker. Someone punched him from the side and whispered, “You’re up.” Throughout his speech, he kept looking back over at her, drawn to her with inexplicable magnetism. In the middle of a sentence, he looked over at Claire and she parted her legs slightly, as if an invitation. Clearing his throat, he said, “Though walleye are extremely bare in this part of the country…” He reddened when the audience laughed. “Excuse me, though walleye are extremely rare in this part of the country.” He glanced at Claire. She was barely containing her laughter. She knew exactly where his mind was. He wanted her tonight—now. What in heaven’s name was he thinking? She was a prostitute. He couldn’t go to bed with one. After taking so many pains to avoid women, he couldn’t hop in bed with a trollop. Or could I ? * * * Claire knew the night was rapidly drawing to an end and he hadn’t asked her to go to his room with him yet. No doubt about it, he was definitely interested. But at the same time, he seemed distant, wary of her. “Let me walk you to the valet area?” Joe asked, gently placing his arm around her. “Okay, thanks.” They stepped into the elevator and Claire punched the button for the first floor. She was positioned perfectly to push the stop button without Walleye Joe noticing it. The elevator jerked to a stop and an alarm bell began to ring. Claire grabbed Walleye Joe, pretending to be afraid. She hugged him close, hoping the gesture would lead to something. She could sense his reluctance to put his arms around her. “Joe, I’m really scared of closed-in spaces. I’ve always feared being trapped in an elevator. Could 26

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

you please just hold me until the elevator starts again?” As if waiting for his cue, his massive arms engulfed her. Moving in closer, she molded her body into his form, feeling the musky heat emanate from him. Suddenly, they went from comforting each other to hot and stimulated. She wanted him like she hadn’t wanted anyone in a long time, maybe ever. It didn’t make sense. She hated his type and that beard was hideous, but here she was—rubbing all over him like a love-starved kitten and wanting more. She brought his head down to her level and planted a soft kiss on his lips. They opened to hers—warm, wet and inviting. He answered her invitation with a tongue that sought hers in a mating dance that set all the cells in her body on high alert. Claire thrived on playing the aggressor in this primitive animal dance, running one of her hands through his thick head of black hair, entwining a handful in one fist, pulling slightly, while running the other down his chest, stomach, then finally to his crotch—his extremely swollen crotch. She stroked him through the material of his pants, enjoying the long, hard feel of his penis. Her breathing heavy, Claire moved her lower body away from him enough to unbuckle and unzip his pants. She wanted him in her mouth. Never could she remember wanting something so badly. She reached in his pants and stroked his shaft with her hand. He groaned and grabbed the wall of the elevator. Slowly she lowered herself to her knees and removed his organ from cover so she could caress it freely. Hard, long, and thick as an Iowan corncob. Man, they grow ’em big in the Midwest, she thought. The perfect male penis stood fully erect before her and she lowered her head over it to take him into her mouth. The world ceased around her with only the two of them remaining. She circled around the tip with her tongue, licking her way to the very base, then moved her 27

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

tongue back up to the head. Through the buzzed haze of her mind, she heard Joe groan and felt his hands cradling her head. She didn’t miss a stroke, continuing to savor the hard satin feel of the skin of his penis. Claire breathed deeply to smell the manly scent belonging to him. He began to push into her mouth faster. She knew it wouldn’t be long before he came. Wanting, needing, she moved her hand to play with his testicles, and with a roar, he came. Sucking on him until the pulsing ebbed, she kissed back up his stomach and enjoyed the feel of his chest under her hands. Unable to meet his eyes and embarrassed at her sexual abandonment, she turned to start the elevator again, but he grasped her wrist, stopping her. Placing her wrist above her head, Walleye Joe turned her around and slid his hand down her arm to her other wrist. He joined that one with the other and used his free hand to explore. “Is that all you wanted from me?” he asked. Claire moaned at the sensation he created in her body, already a tinderbox ready to go up in flames any moment. He moved into her body, allowing her arms to fall to his shoulders, while he grabbed both cheeks of her ass, placed his penis directly on her vagina and rubbed. She wrapped her legs around his waist and moved with the exotic feel of him. He kissed her hard, plunging his tongue in her mouth with each thrust of his hips. She moaned louder, unable to stop herself. She was so close to orgasm she could feel the building extravaganza inside of her. “Hey in the elevator. Is there anyone in the elevator? This is the fire department.” A deep, loud voice yelled from somewhere outside the elevator. Claire jumped and Joe groaned, laying his head on her shoulder. She pushed him away while she yelled, “Yeah, there’re two of us in here.” Joe leaned over and pushed the button to start the elevator back up. 28

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

He looked her right in the eye and said, “I’m not finished with you yet.” By the time they reached the bottom floor, they both had his clothes righted. They walked silently out the doors of the hotel and Claire handed the valet her ticket. She stood awkwardly, unable to know what to do or say. Finally Walleye Joe broke the silence. Almost shyly, he asked, “There’s another banquet tomorrow night. I’d like you to be my escort. Is that possible?”

29

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

CHAPTER 4

By the time Claire reached her apartment, she’d thought of at least ten reasons not to go on another assignment with Walleye Joe, and only one reason why she should. Sex, sex, sex. Tossing and turning all night, sleep eluded her, so wired was her body from the erotic tryst in the elevator. She had to do something; her body was on fire. Claire trailed her hand down her torso, pretending it was Walleye Joe’s hand. She recalled the way his warm, soft skin had felt beneath her fingers. In her mind, it was his hand that moved between her legs to rub her sensitive nub. Her other hand moved to her breast to lightly twirl her nipples between her fingers. She imagined him placing his tongue on her nipple, lightly pulling it into his mouth, and then tugging it harder with his teeth. She gently rocked her finger on her engorged flesh. A warm glow flowed through her, and she moaned with delight, imagining Joe pressed against her, moving inside her at the tempo her fingers thrummed against her clit. As her arousal grew and her nub swelled, 30

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

her body stiffened, and the sweet ecstasy of release filtered through her. Now I can get some sleep. Tonight anyway. She snuggled down into the covers and sighed with contentment. Tomorrow she had a date with her Walleye Joe and she’d have the real thing or die trying. I wonder if he’d consider changing his name? she thought as she drifted into a deep, fantasy-filled sleep. * * * “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Joe said aloud, chastising himself. “How could a grown, intelligent man be such an idiot?” Wasn’t it enough that he allowed Claire to give him a blowjob in an elevator? What was he thinking? He wasn’t…not with the head on his shoulders anyway. Then if the elevator scene wasn’t bad enough, he’d asked her out on another date. And to really top it off, he couldn’t stop thinking about her no matter how hard he tried. He’d stayed away from women for a year because they were nothing but trouble. Frowning, he filled his glass from the bottle of Jack Daniels he’d ordered earlier and sat it back down on the hotel room table. Maybe he should call someone to cancel this date. The hell of it was he didn’t want to cancel. Claire was the only woman in a very long time he wanted to be with. His dick got hard just thinking about her. Shit! Maybe that was the answer…maybe all he needed was a good lay. It had been a long time and maybe his body was just trying to tell him it needed an all night love session. One could only repress the animal instincts for so long, then they came bursting out on their own accord. Once sated, he’d be fine, and ready to retreat back to his cabin in Minnesota, alone with Sheba. He smiled and lifted his glass in the air, speaking out loud to the imaginary image of Claire in his mind. “To you, Claire O’Malley, and one night of sexual pleasure for us both—the kind you’ve only dreamed about.” 31

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

* * * Claire arrived at the office early, ready to hunt down the owner of Frey Hatchery and pay him a visit. She did a search on the Internet and learned the name of the president and CEO was Rodney Ballinger. Jotting down the address and phone number, Claire grabbed her purse. The hour-long drive to the hatchery gave her time to think about her approach. Maybe it would be best to make him think she was going to buy a large shipment of fish. That way he wouldn’t be suspicious of her motives. Claire walked into the office, purposely exuding professional confidence. “I’m Claire O’Malley, here to speak to Mr. Ballinger, please.” The receptionist smiled and picked up the intercom phone. “Mr. Ballinger, a Claire O’Malley is here to see you…Okay, I’ll send her in. Follow me, Ms. O’Malley.” The receptionist opened the door to a plush office. The phone rang as she entered and the man behind the desk motioned Claire to be seated. Claire scanned the leather and brocade furnishings, accumulating information and impressions. She admired the splendid, ornately carved cherry wood desk in the corner. Expensive, very expensive. Fish stocking was apparently a lucrative business. Claire continued her perusal of the decor while he conducted his phone conversation. Italian oils in muted earth tones graced the walls, and a wet bar covered the length of one wall. She waited patiently while he finished his phone conversation. Once he hung up the phone, he stood and came around the desk with his hand extended toward her. “Hello, Ms. O’Malley, I’m Rodney Ballinger.” “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ballinger.” He took a seat on top of the desk. “How might I help you, Ms. O’Malley?” “I have a few questions I’d like to ask you concerning your 32

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

business.” “Certainly. Can I get you a drink?” “No, thanks.” Claire watched him walk over to the bar and pour himself a scotch and water. Moving back to the desk and propping his hip on one edge, he looked down on her. “Fire away.” “Well, I’m here on behalf of the Dallas Press and I have a resource who informed me some shipments of fry were never delivered to the lake. As a taxpayer, I’d like a reason why.” Mr. Ballinger’s face turned from a smile to indignation in a blink of Claire’s eyes. Oh, yeah, I hit a nerve, she thought. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” “What was it? Some type of payoff between you and the fishing commissioner?” “I want you out of my office right now.” He pushed a button on his desk. “Get me security.” Claire stood up to leave, enjoying his ruffled feathers immensely. “That’s not necessary. I can show myself out. But I promise this will not be the last you see of me.” As soon as she was out of the sight of the office she ran her hand down her pants in attempt to wipe off the offending feel of being in the same room with such a slime-ball. She had just enough time left to rush home and change for the banquet with Walleye Joe tonight. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t come up with a good plan to get him in the sack, for real this time. Good thing the bet’s not contingent on me seducing him on the first date. Since the conference ended tomorrow, tonight would be her last shot. The short, daring, red dress she chose with the open v that plunged to her belly button would surely help things along. The dress was one Claire had picked up on special, one that she’d never thought she’d 33

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

wear but decided it would make a nice addition to her wardrobe—just in case. Looked like her instincts and nose for bargains paid off. With the accompanying stiletto heels, the red, strappy spikes that all her friends called “slut shoes,” her legs seemed endlessly long. She had heard men liked that. Claire flipped the television on while she applied her make-up. The announcer stated a prominent citizen had been found dead in his home– one bullet hole through his head. Glancing at the picture flashing on the screen, she gripped the vanity as her world began to spin. It was none other than the face of Rodney Rosenberg. The announcer said the police were investigating the possibility of a robbery. Claire sank to the couch, shock and horror immobilizing her. She kept staring at the honest face of Rodney Rosenberg. She could not believe it. He was dead. Her mind jumped to the conversation with Rodney only the day before along with his parting last words, “These men are very dangerous. Watch your back.” * * * Claire O’Malley breezed into the lobby bar The Anatole. One look in his direction, told him something had her dander up. She stormed up to the table and threw her hands on her hips. “That better be tea, mister, after what you put me through last night.” Joe looked at the mad hornet in a sexy-as-hell dress. “No. Bourbon. Would you like some?” “You have the nerve! Yesterday you commanded me not to drink. With that demand, I assumed you were a tee-totaller and here you are drinking. Want to explain?” Walleye Joe got up and pulled a chair out for Claire. “Sit, Claire. You’re making a scene. People are staring.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pushed the blazing inferno into the chair. When she squirmed resistant under his touch, he pressed down firmly on her shoulders, as if to send her a message. Walking back to his seat without taking his eyes off her, he took a 34

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

whopping gulp of his drink and sat down. “Now, that’s better isn’t it? The reason I didn’t want you to drink last night was because I wasn’t sure if you were one of those sloppy drunks. You know the kind. I didn’t want to take the chance of the evening being ruined. Especially since I was the guest speaker.” Claire relaxed visibly and let out a sigh. “Oh. Okay. I’ll buy that. Just don’t tell me what to do again.” “I can’t make that promise. I hardly know you.” “What is that suppose to mean?” “Well, if you do something stupid, I’ll have to tell you what to do— or not to do. After all, you are my paid escort. You see my point?” “Look, buster, I’m my own person and no one tells me what to do.” He lifted one eyebrow and stared at her for a while before he remarked, “I’ll keep that in mind, Claire. Are you ready to move into the banquet area?” —— She nodded. Truthfully, she was afraid to open her mouth. When he looked at her with those penetrating blue eyes she shivered from the sheer power of the sexual currents running between them. But why am I feeling this? He’s not my type! Big burly lumberjack types had never appealed to her before, so why now? She liked executive GQ men and Walleye Joe lay at the other end of the spectrum. And with all that facial hair, she couldn’t even tell if he was attractive. When Claire stood, Walleye Joe took her elbow gently and placed it in the crook of his arm. He led her into the Venice Ballroom to schmooze with the fishing crème de la crème. She stood by Joe’s side, unable to participate in the conversation but reveled in the deep timbre of his voice. His encyclopedic knowledge and passion for fishing astounded her. Never having fished herself, she was amazed at the array of fishing poles, bait, and techniques used to catch a fish. Why bother with all this trouble, she wondered, when you can buy it in the 35

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

store? They migrated over to their assigned table near the front of the stage. Who should be sitting across from her but Harvey Morgan, the fishing commissioner himself! What luck. Walleye Joe introduced her to the other guests at the head table. Claire responded with expected courtesy though her mind raced with all the questions she wanted to ask the commissioner. The conversation moved to the fishing commissioner’s responsibilities and his importance in the community and Mr. Morgan launched into in full, self-glorifying detail. With his inflated sense of importance, one would think he was the governor of Texas. Claire had an aversion to braggadocios. This man took the prize catch. Well, it was time to dive into the fray–or more appropriately, fry. She might as well get her hook wet now. When there was a lull in the conversation, Claire jumped in. “I saw on the news this morning that your accountant died in his home last night. What do you think happened, Mr. Morgan?” Several people at her table gasped and Walleye Joe frowned. Have I made a faux paus? Well, who gives a shit? After all, she was a reporter first and this opportunity was just too good to pass up. The commissioner reddened, then cleared his throat. “I did hear about that. I’m absolutely appalled someone would break into his home and kill him in cold blood. It’s daunting to think one isn’t even safe in your own home these days.” “So the police are sure it was a burglary?” Morgan’s beady eyes narrowed murderously. “Of course. Who else would do such a thing?” “I don’t know, but I was just wondering…he was your accountant. Maybe he found something unusual at work that targeted him for assassination.” The commissioner sputtered and coughed. “Excuse me? What did you say your name was again?” 36

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“Claire. Claire O’Malley.” Morgan pointed his finger in her face. “You’re that damn female reporter always poking around for another sensational story. How did you get invited to this affair?” He turned to Joe. “What is the meaning of this, Walleye?” Claire glanced at Walleye Joe, attempting to gauge his level of fury. It seemed at least a twenty on a scale of one to ten. Claire tried for a quick recovery. “I moonlight for Companionship, Inc. I’ve been hired to escort Walleye Joe for the evening. I’m not working as a reporter tonight. I was just asking you those questions out of personal curiosity.” “Well, enough of your interrogation, young lady, or I’ll have you removed from the premises immediately. Do you comprehend?” Harvey Morgan stood up and headed toward the men’s room. Claire ate her dessert in silence, not daring to look at Walleye. But she could hear him breathing—like a bull ready to charge. She was quite sure his foot scraped the floor under the table. The master of ceremonies adjusted the microphone at the podium before he began introductions. Walleye pushed away from the table and sauntered to the stage, waiting for his cue. Claire watched, mesmerized, as Joe spoke eloquently about the art of ice fishing and the soul of the nature experience. She watched his every gesture, animated and passionate, incredibly knowledgeable about his field. She saw a new side of the man and was wowed. When his eyes caught hers, she could feel him reeling her in—like a fish on the end of a line. But Claire wanted to be reeled in. Once he finished, they turned the podium over to the fishing commissioner. He spoke on the water level, the record fish caught so far this season, and the continued efforts of his administration to make Texas fishing the best it can be. The evening finally drew to a close and she dreaded the confrontation she knew was coming. Walleye Joe was beyond angry 37

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

and she was beginning to feel intimidated, a rare occurrence for Claire. She jutted her chin defiantly in the air. Well, she’d just show him she wasn’t easily frightened. They sauntered into the lobby and he stopped to chat with several people along the way. She inched toward the valet desk. Maybe if she were lucky, people would stop him all along the way and, once she got close enough to the valet, she’d make a run for it. No such luck. He grabbed her elbow firmly, steering her toward the lounge in the secluded section of the hotel. When she resisted, he grabbed her firmly and said, “We are going to discuss this, and you might as well go along or we can have it out right here in the middle of the lobby, witnesses notwithstanding. Your pick.” She walked silently beside him as he led her to a booth in a dark, back corner of the lounge, well away from earshot. She scooted to the far corner of the seat and he eased in beside her, his thigh burning her leg. It’s a good thing I don’t suffer from claustrophobia. That’s all I need to add to this chaos. Walleye just sat there, his hands folded in front of him, not saying a word. The suspense was about to undo Claire when the waiter came up and took their drink orders. Perfect timing, she thought, breathing a sigh of relief. Now he had to talk. After the waiter left, Walleye Joe turned to face her square on, his arm across the back of the seat. “Let me see if I have this straight. Correct me if I’m wrong, but only after I’ve had my say. You are a reporter by trade and you’ve essentially used me to get a story. How am I doing so far?” “I am a reporter, that part is true, but escorting you is also part of my work as an employee of Companionship, Inc.—quite separate and distinct from my job as a reporter.” “Sure it is. That’s why you pumped the poor fishing commissioner 38

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

for information at what was designed to be an enjoyable social function for everyone involved.” Claire looked at her nails. “I’m truly sorry about that. I admit I made a mistake. I guess once a reporter, always a reporter. I’m like an old bloodhound. When I pick up the scent of a story, I start the chase and don’t stop until I’ve got the prey. I can’t help that—it’s my inherent nature. “But I swear to you that I did not take this assignment with Companionship, Inc. to get a story from the fishing commissioner. Anyway, how would I know I’d be landing you as my first client?” Walleye Joe sat frowning at her for a long time then finally spoke. “Okay, I’ll give you that. There’s no way you could’ve known about hooking up with me. So why did you take the job for Companionship, Inc.?” Claire bit her bottom lip and tried to decide whether she should tell the truth—she opted for the lie. “I need the extra money. As satisfying as my career in journalism is to me, it doesn’t pay well. Unfortunately, it takes the green stuff to keep a roof over one’s head, gas in the car and food on the table. And my cat likes her Purina. She’s very particular.” Walleye took a swig of his drink. Claire drank in every detail of his face, suddenly realizing how very, very attractive this man was, hairy face and all. But her heart fell. She’d already blown it. Might as well call it a night—and forget about the bet money. No way was she going to recover this one. Damn, there went her extra season ticket to the Dallas Stars.She grabbed her purse. “Well, Joe, I guess I’d better be going. It’s getting late and I’ve got a full day tomorrow. I’m really sorry about everything that came down tonight. If I could, I’d go back and reverse what I did to you. I really wish there was a way I could make it up to you.” Claire decided to take one last shot at winning the bet. It would be a crapshoot, but what did she have to lose? She ran her fingertips seductively up his arm lying over the back of her seat. “Unless you 39

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

want to take our nightcap up to your room?” There she’d done it— propositioned a man for the first time in her life. And she was still breathing. —— Walleye Joe felt conflicted, suddenly tight and uncomfortable. Feeling like he was about to choke, he ran his hand around the inside rim of his collar. He’d finally decided to do it—go ahead and indulge his animal instincts with this one-night stand with a prostitute. Then maybe his raging libido would leave him in peace. But Claire’s explanation of why she was moonlighting had thrown him into a tormented inner conflict. It was one thing to share a onenight stand with a prostitute—and quite another to seduce a working girl just trying to eke out a living. “I have a really busy day tomorrow. We better call it a night.” —— Claire’s heart fell to her feet, but she wasn’t about to show her disappointment—and it wasn’t just about losing the bet money. She wanted him. “Certainly,” she said, forcing her voice to sound cheerful and nonchalant, belying the pain she felt at knowing this was the last time she would ever see Walleye Joe. He walked her to the valet area where she handed her ticket to the desk manager. While they waited for the car to be pulled up, she felt the deep silence and emptiness wash over her. What in the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never in my life felt such a pull toward any man. Attraction was one thing—a deep urge to make love with the person was another. And with Joe, she felt a force field of magnetism pulling her to him. She cleared her throat and said, “I want to apologize again for my behavior tonight and for embarrassing you. It was uncalled for. The truth is, I had a really great time both nights and found your talks of fishing quite interesting.” 40

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“Thanks, I had a nice time, too.” Claire leaned in and placed a hand on his chest. His heart pounded under her touch; she knew the force of their attraction was mutual. Maybe he wasn’t as immune to her as he acted. Standing on her tiptoes, she slipped her free hand around his neck, pulling his head down to her level. The moment his warm full lips touched hers, Claire’s blood heated, rolling through her veins like hot lava. Butterflies flittered in her stomach—and she wanted more. Moving in closer, she felt desire emanating from his body like heat waves. Her passion flared to a roaring crescendo and she felt his hard, thick penis press against her crotch. It took every thing she had not to grind against it in a wanton fashion. The car came to a screeching halt behind her and she released him. They stared into each other eyes until the valet cleared his throat. Breathless, Claire said her goodbye quickly and climbed into the car. Fastening her seatbelt, she eased the car down the driveway. Faster than she could blink, a lone figure popped up from the backseat, grabbing her neck with his arm. Her heart leaped to her throat, and she yelped in surprise. How could this have happened?

41

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

CHAPTER 5

Walleye Joe felt crestfallen and immobilized as he watched Claire drive away. With his body in dire straits with desire, he contemplated jumping in his car and following her. To where though? To her apartment for a one-night stand? To make hot passionate love and leave her in the morning? That really wasn’t going to do it for him. Not his style. But with his hormones racing, it was hard for him to think. As he watched her car trail off, his breath quickened—there were two visible heads instead of one. Who in the hell was in the car with her? Whoever it was began to grab her from behind. Adrenaline surged as Walleye Joe shifted into autopilot. He did the only thing he could think of—ran after her car on foot, hoping like hell he could catch them at a stoplight. The brake light stayed on. Good. Maybe he’d have a chance to catch them. As he got closer, he figured out that Claire had probably been so frightened she’d pressed her foot on the brakes instead of the gas, allowing Walleye time to catch up. A stroke of luck—or genius. 42

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

He flung open the back door and grabbed the guy, wrestling him out of the car. The carjacker packed a punch hard into Joe’s stomach, catching him off guard. The air whooshed out of Joe’s lungs and he gasped for breath. The carjacker took advantage of Walleye Joe’s incapacity and tore down the street, fast as an Olympic sprinter in a hundred-yard dash. Joe helplessly watched the guy disappear. At least Claire was safe. He moved to open her door where she gaped at him, pale, with a glazed look in her eyes. She was obviously in shock. He squatted down beside her, speaking softly. “Claire, honey, are you okay?” No answer. “Claire, talk to me, baby. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” He peeled her fingers off the steering wheel and engulfed her in his arms, rocking her gently. “You’re safe now. The guy’s gone.” Still no answer. He had to do something. “Baby, let’s go back in the hotel. You’re safe now.” He gently helped her from the car. She followed obediently, like a sheep being led to slaughter. The valet came running up and asked if he could help with anything. Joe answered. “Yes, you can. She’ll be staying with me tonight. Room 2015. You need to have the manager call the police. Someone tried to carjack her, so don’t move the car until they take a look at it.” “Sure thing.” Walleye Joe led Claire into the hotel elevator and up to his floor. He had his arm around her shoulders for support and she leaned heavily against him, her body limp. At the feel of her trembling, he rubbed his hand up and down her arm, trying to make her feel safer. He unlocked the door to his room, still supporting her with his other arm. Carefully he walked her to the couch and she sank down in a heap. “Would you like something to drink?” “Can you make me some hot tea? I’m so cold.” “Do you take anything in it?” 43

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“Cream and sugar, please.” “Coming right up. You just relax and I’ll be right back.” As Walleye Joe fixed the tea, a knock on the door interrupted him. He opened it to a policeman holding his badge in the air. “We were called by the manager of the hotel about an attempted carjacking. I’m Detective Sam Moon with the Dallas Police.” Walleye Joe opened the door to allow the officer entry. “I am Joe Holek. I’m staying here at the hotel as a guest speaker for the fishing conference. This is Claire O’Malley who escorted me to the banquet tonight. Please have a seat. I’m in the process of making some tea for Claire. She’s pretty shaken up. Would you care for some tea?” “No, thanks. I just had my last jolt of coffee for the night.” Officer Moon took out his pen and pad. “Ms. O’Malley, I know this is going to be difficult for you, but we need to get as much detail as we can from you now, while what happened is fresh in your mind. When did you become aware that the intruder was in your car?” Walleye Joe came back from the kitchenette with Claire’s tea, setting it down on the table in front of her, then taking a place protectively beside her.” In a shaky voice, Claire explained to the detective all that she remembered about the incident, including the part when Joe rescued her. Detective Moon focused his attention on Walleye Joe. “That was a very brave thing you did, but you must realize the situation could have backfired and he could’ve killed Ms. O’Malley and you both.” “Yes, I realize that now, but I was running on instincts. I had to do something fast. And I have to say, I’d do the same thing again.” The detective frowned and said, “That’s kind of an unusual response. Most people would dial 911. May I ask what you do for a living, sir?” Joe hesitated, looking from the detective to Claire and back. “I’m a fishing guide in northern Minnesota. I specialize in ice fishing during 44

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

the winter months.” “I hate to be persistent, but I must ask you, Joe, what you did before you became a fishing guide?” Joe cleared his throat and answered, “DEA.” Claire gasped and Moon frowned deeper. “You’re a drug enforcement agent? “Correction. I’m a retired drug enforcement agent. Now I’m a fishing guide and professional lecturer on how to catch walleye.” “Oh,” said Claire. “Now I understand. That’s how you acquired the nickname ‘Walleye Joe.’” “Oh, do you?” His lips twisted in a smile. Shifting his attention back to the detective, he asked, “Does this sort of thing happen often in this city?” “No, not that much really. At this hotel, never that I can remember. Ma’am, do you remember what the man looked like? “I didn’t get a look at him. It was dark. He grabbed me from behind with his forearm around my neck. I couldn’t move. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.” Walleye Joe knew the interrogation would now work its way back to him. He gave the detective a steely glare and said, “I saw the guy briefly. It was enough to give you a general description, but not enough for a sketch. Dark tanned skin, black hair, round face, big nose, around five-nine or ten, weighing around two hundred .” “That’s a fairly accurate description, Joe. Are you sure I couldn’t get a sketch artist up here?” “At one time, it made a life or death difference to be observant for myself and others. I’m sorry, Moon, but I only saw the man briefly, no more.” Now get out so I can have sex with Claire. Great, where did that thought come from? What kind of insensitive jerk am I? She’s just been through a terribly traumatic experience and all I can think about is jumping her bones. What kind of beast am I? 45

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

Detective Sam Moon left with a promise to keep them posted on any new information. * * * Claire watched Walleye Joe, her apprehension soaring. Her mind churned with possible explanations as to why a former DEA agent would be here at a fishing conference. Or was he really ex-DEA? Could he be working under cover? Does he know something is going on with the fishing commissioner? The name Walleye Joe began to sound more and more like a cover name to Claire. Her reporter wheels fired sparks, burning rubber. Should I talk to him about it or let it lie? “You’re looking at me like I’m the devil. What did I do?” “Nothing. I’m still trying to get over the shock of you being former DEA. But now that I look at you, yeah, I can see it. Isn’t that an extremely dangerous profession?” A dark, deadly expression clouded his face. “Yes, that’s why I quit, in fact. After it ruined my marriage—my one and only marriage. Can I get you anything else? More tea?” Claire wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “I’m just so cold. I can’t seem to get warm, even after drinking the hot tea. By the way, the tea was great. Thanks for fixing it.” Walleye Joe moved in closer to her, placing his strong arm around her shoulders so she could snuggle against his side. He rubbed her arm for warmth. “Is that better?” Claire smiled and tucked her head into the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Mmmmhhh…now it is.” She inhaled a deep breath, savoring in the delight of his cologne. She pressed her lips on his neck, gently kissing up to his ear. With her teeth, she lightly bit on the lobe and immediately licked the pain away. Without thought of where this could lead, she ran her tongue around the outside crest of his ear and applied a string of kisses until she reached his mouth. 46

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

She felt the dam between them break when Walleye Joe placed his hand at her nape, encouraging her every move. The warm, wet feel of his lips on hers made her want him more than any man she could remember—ever. She moaned as he entered her mouth with his tongue, enjoying the headiness of the intimate act. Moving closer, Claire slid her leg over his, then down between them. He grabbed her kneecap to adjust her leg and move it slowly over his growing erection. —— He was on fire and he could feel his tightly wound control slipping away. Thoughts of all they’d been through evaporated—they were man and woman, two hungry bodies desiring nothing in the universe but each other. He was ready once more to surrender to the all-consuming passion that had overtaken him. Walleye Joe moved his hand from her neck to her ass, squeezing the small, rounded mounds. She moaned again as he lifted her up to straddle his lap. Placing his hands on each side of her hips, he guided her back and forth over his rock hard penis. He knew it had been a long time for him, but this unbelievable seductive movement almost sent him right over the edge. He felt like a schoolboy. After removing her shirt, Joe kissed her neck and collarbone while moving his hands along the low plunged neckline of her dress, squeezing two of the most gorgeous breasts he had ever seen—in real life. Moving his hands to her globes he followed with his mouth, circling his tongue around one of the protruding nipples. He looked up to see Claire throw her head back and push her breast closer to him. Moving to the other breast, he gently tugged on it and she ground into him harder, panting heavily as her skin grew feverishly hot. Running his hand down her stomach, he slipped his fingers under her dress, quickly climbing to her thatch of hair to find her hidden clit. The moment he touched her nub, he felt her whole body tense and shudder. Applying a small amount of pressure, he moved his finger in a 47

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

circle, enjoying the look of ecstasy on her face. Joe had all but forgotten the incredible thrill of watching a woman’s face while he pleasured her. He slid his finger past her clit and into her vagina. Claire placed her hands on his shoulders, “Ohmigod! I’m going to come.” He sped up his finger action and watched her face turn from tension, to exquisite pleasure, to total relaxation. Then he felt her liquid release on his fingers. Slowly he withdrew his hand and placed two fingers in his mouth, licking off her juices. He waited for her to recover and slid the rest of her clothes off, rapidly following with his own. Kissing her deeply he laid her down on the couch covering her with his body. Moving against her with a steady rhythm, he continued to watch her gorgeous face. He loved her creamy skin, her sparkling green eyes, her delicate Irish features that revealed every emotion. She spread her legs, inviting him in, then grabbed his penis and he felt the liquid velvet of her tight flesh wrapping around him, pulling him into the vastness of her being. He kept the rhythm slow. He wanted this to last. “Oh, my God, Claire, honey. You just don’t know how good you are, how good you make me feel.” She smiled and he pressed his lips to hers, matching the movements of their tongues to their heated connection below. He pressed into her harder, faster, and thrusting with an intensity that knew no barriers. She scraped her nails down his back and butt, and then grabbed his ass with her hands, squeezing them tight. That was all it took. With one last thrust, he came into her, and he thought his juices would never stop flowing. “Oh, yes, dear Claire, you do know how to melt this man of ice.” * * * Claire reached over to Walleye Joe’s side of the bed. Feeling the emptiness, she moved her hand to the indention on the pillow. She felt 48

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

happy and content. Ah, it hadn’t been a dream after all. She grabbed the pillow and placed it over her face, loving the scent of him that lingered on the fabric. She hugged it to her, releasing a sated sigh. The frightening thought of her attacker entered her mind and swiftly she jumped out of bed. Naked, she searched the room for her clothes. She’d followed the trail to the couch just as Walleye Joe came out of the bathroom, his hair wet and slicked back, and a towel tied around his waist looking sexier than hell. A gleam of delight flickered in his eyes and Claire backed up as she watched Walleye Joe slowly remove the towel. The sight of his penis becoming erect made her stomach flutter. Her body reacted automatically, the wanting just as intense if not more than the previous night, flooding her with a myriad of confusing emotions. She took a step back. “Whoa, big boy. I need to brush my teeth and take a shower.” He stood close to her now and whispered in her ear, “Afterward.” Claire’s hands went to his chest and moved over his muscles, feeling them bunch. “Absolutely not. You’re so nice and clean. I want to be, too.” “Okay, I can be reasonable, believe it or not.” He flashed her a charming, ear-to-ear grin, then placed his hand over hers and squeezed it, causing her nails to claw into his skin. He moved it up to his mouth and licked the palm. Seductively, he stuck his tongue between each finger. Slowly he began to back up toward the bathroom, Claire in tow. “You can take a shower on one condition. I get to scrub your back.” Claire smiled at the determined look in his eyes and wondered how they would both fit.

49

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

CHAPTER 6

They both dressed and Claire glanced at the digital clock. “Oh no, I almost forgot. I have an appointment with Rodney Ballinger this afternoon. If I don’t get a move on I’ll be late.” “Who is Rodney Ballinger?” “He is the owner of the Fry Hatchery that Harvey Morgan hired to stock the lake. Only they didn’t deliver everything they were supposed to and the fishing commissioner covered it up.” “Claire, I’d rather you not go. I have a bad feeling about this meeting.” “I appreciate your concern, Joe. That’s so sweet, but life really must continue outside of the bedroom. Unfortunately.” She smiled in jest, but noticed his brow creased in serious concern. “I just don’t like it. First you speak to that commissioner at the party, and you get attacked. I don’t know how it all pieces together, but it’s way too coincidental for my liking.” “Don’t forget the dead accountant. He gave me some information 50

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

before he died implicating the corruption of the fishing commissioner.” “When was that?” “The day I met you. He warned me these people were dangerous— but he didn’t go so far as to say his or anyone else’s life was in danger. Do you think he could’ve been murdered and it was made to look like a robbery?” “I don’t know but I am going to find out, and until I’m sure, I’ll be sticking to you like Elmer’s Glue. I hope you like the smell of glue.” “I like the smell of you. Seriously, how will you find out the truth?” “I still have friends…in the business.” “I need to go home to change clothes and get my laptop.” “Sure thing.” He winked at her playfully. * * * The sun shone bright when they stepped outside. Hurrying toward them, the valet took her ticket and rushed off. Her red Beemer’s tires squealed around the corner in a matter of minutes and it screeched to a halt in front of them. Walleye Joe tipped the valet as Claire climbed into the driver’s seat. He opened the door and looked inside. “How in the hell would you suggest I fit in there?” Laughing, Claire flipped the latches on the convertible and pressed the button sliding the top back. Leaning down she released the seat lever to move the seat back as far as possible. “Okay, now give it a try.” He stuck one leg in and sat, then pulled the other one in with his hands. Surprisingly, he fit and flashed her a big smile. Putting the pedal to the metal, she lurched from the curb and flew down the highway. Walleye Joe clutched the dash with both hands until his knuckles were white. Claire didn’t seem to notice. Turning the radio up, changing channels, and switching lanes all at the same time seemed to come by her naturally. 51

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

When she slid her card into the automatic entrance at her apartment complex, the metal gate opened, allowing them entry. Joe’s head snapped back as she stepped on the gas, throwing him sideways in the seat as she made a sharp right into her parking space. Before he could pry his hands off the dash, she was out of the car and waiting for him. He opened the door and one leg practically fell out on its own accord. The dilemma existed when trying to get the rest of him out. Eventually he removed his bulk, deciding definitively they would take his car next time they went anywhere. The moment they approached the door to the apartment, the evidence of a break-in was apparent. He moved Claire behind him and pushed the door open with his foot. Barely above a whisper he rumbled, “Stay here.” Sliding in the door quietly, he moved out of her range of vision. A short time later, Walleye Joe opened the door. “They’re gone. You can come in.” Believing the worst—that burglars had stolen everything she owned, Claire was surprised that nothing seemed out of place. Puzzled, she looked around and walked through the apartment, her vision landing on the television, stereo, and…her laptop was gone! Rushing over to the desk where the laptop usually sat, she searched around the area. “My laptop. They took my laptop. Why only the laptop? I don’t get it. Has robbery become a specialized business?” “Maybe it wasn’t a burglary. Maybe they were looking for something specific—such as a disc or incriminating evidence.” “Ohmigod! You think this was the fishing commissioner’s handiwork?” “I think the evidence points in that direction. If not, it could very well be something else you’ve been working on.” “No, that’s the only story I’m working on at this moment.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him about her potential inside story for busting Companionship, Inc. 52

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

Joe fumbled through some papers as he grumbled, “Well, I don’t like it. Where did you put those papers you said the accountant gave you?” “Luckily they’re in my briefcase in the trunk of my car. I was running so late I just left them in the car.” “Good. Claire, honey, I think we need to get you out of town as quickly as possible.” “What? Where would I go?” “I want you to go back to Minnesota with me. I can keep you safe there while I get to the bottom of this. I have a feeling we’ve opened a Pandora’s box—or maybe a hornet’s nest.” “But how can we get information from all the way up there? I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I need to be here close to the source. Besides that, I’ve got to work.” “I’m sure when your boss learns the circumstances, he’ll want you to take a leave of absence. Right now you’re a sitting duck for whoever’s after you. We have to find out who and why. But first we get you out of target range. I don’t want you to turn up like the accountant.” Claire gasped. “You think I’m in that much danger?” “Yes, I do. Please go pack and we’ll take the first flight out of town.” “Okay, if you’re sure. It’ll take me a while.” “Anything I can do to help?” “Yea, you can fix the front door. I’d like the rest of my belongings to be here when I get back.” Chuckling, he got to work on the door while Claire packed. They took a taxi to the airport, much to Walleye Joe’s relief, leaving her car at the apartment. They managed to get a red-eye late that night since very few people opted to travel that late. Lying low was the name of the game here. The fewer people who saw them leave, the better. 53

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“Claire, where are the papers the accountant gave you? I’d like to take a look at them.” She rustled through her briefcase and handed him the papers. He raised the armrest between them, placing his arm around her back drawing her in close, while allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. How could he have let this slip of girl get under his skin so fast? In the space of a few days, he’d let his guard down, falling hard for this incredible woman. What in the hell was he doing playing bodyguard to her? And more importantly, why was he taking her to his home? These thoughts and others flew through his head as he listened to her relaxed breathing. He couldn’t resist kissing her gently on the forehead before he settled in and began reading. * * * Once in Minnesota, Claire drank in the surroundings, loving the cold, crisp, incredibly clear air. The quality of light in this part of the world was spectacular. As darkness sank in, the temperature dropped. She’d expected cold, but the wind chilled her to the bone marrow. Surely she’d freeze to death or turn into a Popsicle. Watching Walleye Joe get the bags and place them in his Jeep Cherokee, she smiled, thinking how his car reflected his personality— manly, powerful, rugged and dependable. As they headed from Minneapolis up to northern Minnesota, the forest grew dense and the hills higher. As they approached Duluth, right on Lake Superior, Claire’s breath hitched from the spectacular sight. The famous aerial lift bridge was a dazzling display of lights. A ship moved slowly into the harbor. Joe pointed skyward toward a swirl of neon green and soft pink lights. “The aurora borealis…northern lights.” “Wow,” Claire exclaimed. “I never knew Minnesota was so beautiful. I guess I’ve always thought of it as one big iceberg.” Walleye Joe laughed. “Wait until you get to my cabin and hear the 54

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

loons and the wolves howl for the first time. You might never go back home.” He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I’m glad you’re with me, Claire. And not just for your own safety. I like being with you.” * * * The cabin stood nestled in a wooded area overlooking the lake. Once she slid out of the Jeep, Claire stood looking at the water. A peace she’d never known washed over her. Walleye Joe came up behind her, wrapping her tightly in his arms while pulling Claire back against him. Warmth joined the peaceful sensation and total happiness, a feeling she’d never had, exploded in her. “It is beautiful here. I think you might be right. I may never leave.” “I could only be so lucky.” He kissed her neck and went to retrieve the luggage. After a few minutes of enjoying the view and the tranquility, Claire walked into the cabin and removed her snow-covered boots. A fire roared in the fireplace and she smiled with contentment, realizing he had seen to this comfort for her before he unloaded the luggage. Her eyes misted at his considerate nature. No man she’d ever been with had ever been truly thoughtful and caring with her. Maybe it was the independent streak she showed to the world, but even so, men should know women like to be taken care of sometimes. It was the little acts of kindness that meant so much. She was standing by the fire, holding her hands in front of it when Walleye Joe deposited the luggage in the middle of the living room. He walked up behind her and kissed the back of her neck, running his hands down the sides of her arms. Claire shivered when his warm, wet lips touched her sensitive skin. She wanted more, much more. Would she never be satiated with this man? He lifted her shirt over her head and unsnapped her bra. Dipping his hands gently into the small of her back, his lips touched her dewy skin softly, sending her libido through the roof. His hands roamed to her front and kneaded her breasts, and wetness pooled in the center of her 55

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

loins, desire surging through her with insistent force. She panted breathlessly as her heat mounted. She could barely contain her excitement when his hands moved down to her waist, gently easing her pants down her legs while he lovingly kissed his way down one butt cheek, moving slowly to the other. Moving his hands to her clit, he stroked her while he pressed his lips hard against hers, his tongue urgently exploring the delicate membranes inside her mouth, imploring, teasing, inviting more. All her senses were alive and singing, her clit swelling in response to his dexterity. Claire turned to face him, placing her hands on his shoulders to brace her fall. Spreading her thighs wider to receive him, Joe flicked his tongue over her clitoris, and then stopped, his hot tongue resting on the tip. “Ohmigod, Joe,” Claire screamed, as she pushed harder against the force of his hot, liquid movements. “I’m going to come.” Joe’s breathing grew hard and urgent, his face feverish as he buried his tongue in her canal. Finally he came up for air. “Nothing could give me more pleasure.” He placed his hands under her buttocks and pulled her in to reach deeper with his tongue. “It feels incredible the way you use that hard, thick tongue of yours. You make me feel so good. Nobody’s ever made me feel this good, Walleye. But I don’t want to come yet. I want us to climax together. I want to feel you come inside of me while I come.” Joe slowed down, circling her nub again, and made her stomach clench and release with the erotic sensation. She slid her hands into his hair and moved his head in the rhythm that gave her the most pleasure. He talked to her and moaned with pleasure, the vibrations of his voice on her pussy sending her back to the sky again. She cared about nothing except that glorious warm tongue and silky sensation of his beard rubbing the sides of her thighs. The dam built inside her until she tensed and cried out, “I’m going over the top, baby. Here I go, Joe,” and she tensed with her release, 56

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

then collapsed into her own heat, waves of orgasm pulsating through her loins, her muscles taut then quivery. After kissing his way back up her body, he quickly unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his pants. In short order, he had removed all his clothing and gently tugged Claire down to the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. Claire lay nude on the rug, her pussy still drenched from her orgasm, perspiration illuminating her skin. She looked up at the spectacular male specimen before her, his penis pointing straight out in front of him, hard as an iron girder, the firelight flickering off his perfectly splendid musculature. She raised her arms to him, desire building again in her like a never-ending inferno. “Make love to me, Joe, all night. I want to wake up in the morning full of you. I want it to ache when I walk so I can remember our lovemaking with every step I take.” He knelt down on the rug next to her, placing his hand on her bush, sliding a finger between her labia, and she felt her juice run down his hand. She grabbed his penis and rolled it in her hands as he stroked her velvety wetness, removing his finger and licking it. Then he descended slowly on top of her, her hand still on his penis. Claire spread her legs wide as she guided his penis into her tunnel. Joe pulled out until only the tip of his penis spread her opening wide, and her hips drew up for him to sink deeper. She slapped the cheeks of his buttocks, gently at first, then harder. On the last slap, she pulled him down, feeling him diving deep into her constricting fortress. As she contracted her vaginal muscles around his penis, he built up speed, breathing hard and erratic, wild and untamed, like an elk in rut. She kept up with the rhythm, feeling his balls slap hard against her skin, and the tip of his penis hit the back wall of her vagina, probing, boring, drilling deeper. When his hands moved up and down the curves of her body, her muscles tightened and she began to quake with the impending implosion. 57

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“Oh, Joe, I’m going over the top. Come with me, baby.” She saw the glazed look in his eyes as he pumped harder, his face drawn in an ecstatic grimace. “Oh, Claire,” he roared. “You’re making me come, baby. Here I go.” Collapsing onto her, she felt his penis pulse, releasing his juice into the depths of her being. Claire dug her nails into his shoulders. When she kissed the spot, she tasted blood. She’d never felt so sensual, sexual, wild—and free— like an animal that had been in civilization for too long and had just been let loose in the wilds. Glancing out the window, she could see the silvery full moon, clouds scudding over it, and then she heard it—the lonely howl of a timber wolf calling across the woods. With Joe still inside her, she reveled in his sweaty weight on top of her and the musky scent of raw sex. She never wanted to leave this place. A new and ancient part of her had been reborn tonight. * * * Claire woke up shivering. Walleye Joe’s heat had vanished but she heard the heavy stomping of boots on the porch. The door opened and he entered, carrying a load of wood, a huge gust of wind slamming the outer door behind him. Kicking the inside door closed with a foot, he dumped the load of wood in front of the fireplace and began stacking it. “Cold?” he asked. She snuggled further under the blanket he’d thrown over her and smiled. “Yeah. Thanks for the blanket.” “Well, it wouldn’t suit my purposes for later if I let you freeze to death now. I’m going to bring some more logs up on the porch to dry. When you get warm and toasty, how about opening some cans of stew from the kitchen pantry and heating them up? I’ll go into town and get groceries tomorrow.” “Stew. That sounds heavenly. Will do.” Joe left the cabin again. As soon as the fire warmed the cabin, Claire began to dress—under the covers, of course. The romance of the 58

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

howling wolves and the call of the loons didn’t feel quite so appealing in the stark, freezing cold morning. All she wanted to do now was hibernate under the covers—an electric blanket that she could control the thermostat, unlike the one in her body. Once dressed, she went to the kitchen and opened the cans. Thank goodness Mr. Wilderness doesn’t have one of those wood-burning stoves for cooking, she thought. She’d heard that in some antique Minnesota cabins, that’s all they had to warm the cabin and cook on. Waiting for the stew to heat, she grabbed Joe’s telephone to touch base with Sam. “Hey, Sam, it’s me, Claire.” Sam let out a sigh of what sounded like relief. “Claire, where the hell have you been? I’ve been ready to send an all points bulletin out on you.” “I’m in Minnesota with a wilderness freak. It’s a long story, Sam, and I don’t have time to go into it right now, but I wanted you to know that someone attacked me in my car and then ransacked my apartment and stole my laptop, including all the software.” Sam waited until she finished before he exploded. “Shit! Are you all right, Claire? Level with me. If you need me to, you know I’ll drop everything and come up there to get you.” “Thanks, Sam. I appreciate your concern. Yes, I’m fine. I was just a little shaken up at first. The guy I’m with, Walleye Joe, saved me from the attacker and has appointed himself my full-time bodyguard until we find out who’s after me and why. I wanted to let you know where I am so you can contact me if you need to.” Claire gave Sam the phone number and general location of the cabin. The less anyone knew about her exact location, the better. Though she trusted Sam implicitly, she wasn’t sure about all of her coworkers. Someone at the newspaper could possibly be working as a mole for the fishing commissioner—if that, in fact, was the source of the problem. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Walleye Joe has some friends of 59

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

his investigating for me. I will tell you this, though, our prime suspect is the fishing commissioner since I have corruption evidence on him. “ “Claire, listen to me. I’m relieved you’re in Minnesota. I want you to stay there and stay low. The paper will get an investigator of our own and I’ll let you know when I find out something.” “Thanks, Sam. You take care as well. If this person or people find out you’re sniffing them out, you could very well be in danger, too.” Claire went back to the kitchen and had the stew in the bowls by the time Walleye Joe came in from the arctic tundra. He stomped his feet by the door and took off his boots and coat. “Whoa…it’s starting to snow again. We might even be in for a mini-blizzard tonight.” Joe’s eyes lit up. “That means great fishing tomorrow. Have you ever been ice fishing?” “No. I’ve never been any kind of fishing—except in the seafood section of the grocery store.” “What? You’ve never fished? You just don’t know what you’re missing. Well, I’ll do my best to remedy that tomorrow. Among other things.” He cast her a teasing—inviting—glance. She coyly tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s too cold outside for my blood. I think I’ll just curl up by the fireplace with a book. I don’t want to go fishing.” “Sure you do. Everyone likes to fish. Where is that reporter inquisitiveness now—that adventuress I saw in you? I dare you.” Claire crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on the floor in a huff. Damn, he dared me. How could he possibly know she was a sucker for dares? “Okay, smarty pants, I’ll try it, but I refuse to bait the hook. And if my fingers or butt gets cold, I’m heading back to the cabin where I’ll keep the home fires burning until you come in with your catch.” Laughing, Walleye Joe said, “That’s part of fishing, honey.” As he took his last bite of stew, Joe announced it time for bed. “What?” Claire exclaimed. “It’s only eight o’clock.” 60

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“This is the midwest, sweetheart. Everybody’s in bed by nine. That’s part of the reason why Minnesota sports such large families. Not much activity at bedtime—except one I’ve been thinking of quite a bit over the past few days.” Claire grinned, feeling her face warm. It was one thing to cut loose in bed like a newly awakened Aphrodite, and another thing to talk about it in the light of day with a new lover. But the thought sounded rather appealing. —— Joe, sensing a bit of modesty for the first time in this most brazen woman, walked over and kissed her ear, rolling his tongue around the hollow. He marveled at the goose bumps that appeared on her flesh. He could tell he was getting under her skin—and fast. He sensed her reaction to him was that her base instincts took over and she had no control. Joe took her in his arms and whispered, “So how sore were you today after our all night love-making session?” She looked up at him. “On a scale of one to ten, I would say an eight. But I’m not complaining. It’s a good kind of uncomfortable.” “Sooooo…does that mean you’re up for another round?” Claire laughed. “I can’t think of anything else to do on this cold, blustery night with the snow falling all around us. I mean we can’t waste all this atmosphere, can we?” “I don’t believe in wasting anything.” Joe picked her up and walked to the bedroom. “See, I can be a gentleman after all. I bet you didn’t think I had it in me.” Claire smiled at him tenderly. “I always knew that about you, Joe. I just had to pick through your frozen exterior. You’d been in the arctic tundra for far too long. I guess the south melted you a bit.” He looked at her in earnest, plopping her down on the bed as he unbuttoned his shirt. “It wasn’t Dallas that caused my meltdown. It’s you, Claire.” 61

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

—— Joe gazed at her with such tenderness in his eyes that a lump formed in Claire’s throat. She had to admit, she’d had a meltdown, too, in a different kind of way. Never had she felt this strong a bond with a man, this total sensual pleasure in his presence. She wanted him—not in an obsessive, possessive kind of way but in a sharing, caring way—with all the physical desires to go along with it. With Joe, everything felt fun, her senses were alive, and she was able to give, open herself up in a way she’d never been able to do with a man. She felt her heart open wider with every encounter. This felt right—and this was the last thing in the world she’d been thinking about or looking for. Then the realization struck her. The bet—she’d won the bet! Claire laughed out loud. “Oh, making fun of the newly exposed now, are we?” Claire laughed harder. “No, it’s not that, Joe. I’ll tell you later.” She stood up to remove her clothes and Joe sat on the bed—watching. “Here, I’ll put some music on,” he said. Strains of Bob Dylan sang from the speakers. Claire began to swing her hips as she sensually drew her hands over her head to remove her shirt. Then she shimmied her pants down and let them fall down her legs. —— Joe held his penis, stroking as he readied for her. Claire pushed him back on the bed, climbing on top of him. “I’ll do all the work tonight. You just kick back and relax.” Claire sank down on top of him. Joe could feel the heat and wetness already forming in her pussy. He reached up and kneaded her orbs, tweaking the nipples with his fingers. She looked like a goddess—her red hair wild and untamed— like the wilderness that surrounded them. Hearing a faint sound outside, he put his fingers to her lips. “Listen.” Claire heard a faint haunting call, almost like a dove. “What is 62

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

that?” “That’s a loon, honey. Doesn’t it sound beautiful?” “Very seductive.” Joe laughed, his erection growing inside her. “Lucky for me. Good timing.” “As if you need any luck. Right now I think you have all you can handle.” Claire spread out on top of him, moving over his penis in circles. “And what would be your pleasure tonight, my dear?” “Anything you do pleasures me enormously, Claire. I love you on top of me. You feel so good and soft.” His fingers searched for her pussy, and he found her clit. Back and forth he stroked, until the redness filled her face again. She braced herself over him with her hands on the bed and moved her hips in circles. Then she grabbed his penis, sliding it into her, and lifting her body off of him, allowed only the tip of his penis to keep her open. Forcefully she slid back down on him enjoying the feel of his penis expanding her canal. Joe felt her muscles clench his shaft, then release, as if massaging it. Her white, creamy skin glowed in the moonlight. Joe felt he’d never been so amorous, so sexual. Always before, he’d held something back. Not with Claire—she knew just how to move in tune with what pleasured him; her slick, white, inner heat drew him deeper into her vagina, swallowing him. His passion rose to a peak quickly with the last thrust of hers, and he clenched her back, pulling her down on him harder, kissing her face, her mouth desperately, his tongue probing deep into her throat. Then with a roar, he came, spilling his seed once again in the sweet ecstasy of the moment, willing it to last an eternity. * * * The next morning before daylight, Walleye Joe, dressed and ready for a day of fishing, woke Claire gently, bringing her coffee in bed. 63

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

Claire groaned, rolled over and put the covers over her head. He patiently pulled down the covers, easing the coffee cup under her nose, hoping the aroma would give her a much-needed wake up jolt. “I made you coffee, princess. Now be a good girl and get up. The train leaves in fifteen minutes. Oh, yeah, dress real warm.” —— She threw a pillow at his retreating back and heard him laughing as he walked into the kitchen. Luckily for her she had been snow-skiing a few times and had warm clothes. She wolfed down her coffee and layered her clothes, trying to remember what went over what. After twenty minutes, she hurried to the kitchen for another cup of coffee and found Walleye Joe missing. Looking out the window, she saw him driving a four-wheeler, pulling a wooden structure that resembled a life-size playhouse. Curious, she donned her coat and gloves and stepped outside to investigate. He asked her to hop on the four-wheeler behind him and they took off, dragging the building behind them. The lake, now a large white ice cube, loomed ahead of them. Claire did not feel comfortable riding on this contraption on the ice, although she could see others already fishing in their ice huts—they had not fallen through the ice. “Are you sure this lake is solid enough for us to be on it, Joe? This building looks heavy to me.” “Don’t worry. The ice measures around seventeen inches thick this time of year. That’s strong enough to hold a medium size car or SUV.” “Okay, if you’re sure. You’re the expert.” She still held her breath until they stopped, expecting the ice to crack and swallow her any second. She watched the fish swim under the surface of the ice. “Wowee-zowee, Joe, this is like walking on a glass bottom boat!” Once inside the building, Claire was amazed at all the equipment and fishing mementos he had hanging on the walls. She perused the interior while Joe drilled a hole in the ice. 64

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

Joe showed Claire the trap floor hole where he’d drilled the hole, to open and put her line in, and gave her a few brief fishing and safety tips. She proved to be a quick learner. “Ohmigod! I got a fish, Joe. Help me! What do I do now?” Claire squealed like a little kid and hung onto the pole with all her might as the fish pulled the tip down toward the hole in the ice. Walleye Joe, laughing, put his arms around her and led her hand to the reel. “We’re going to reel him in. That’s my girl. You’ve given him plenty of slack, now you’re going to pull up on the rod like so and while lowering the tip you’re going to turn this handle.” He showed her exactly what he meant and held onto the pole every step of the way. “Yep, he is a real fighter. We’re going to have fish for dinner tonight, hon. Now just keep your rhythm steady. We don’t want to lose him now. We’ve fought way too hard for our dinner here.” The fish came popping out of the hole and landed on the ice, flopping around. Claire shrieked even loader when she tried to catch the slimy thing. Walleye Joe had gloves on so the fins wouldn’t bite into his hands as he removed the hook, and grabbed the fish and held him up for Claire’s inspection. “I’d say you should be mighty proud. This is about a five-pounder, I’d say. Good eating size. Way to go.” “So where’s my trophy?” Claire asked, feigning a pout. “Right here,” said Joe, pulling her to him and placing her hand on his rapidly growing erection. “I just seem to maintain a perpetual hardon in your presence. What am I going to do?” Claire put her finger to her mouth as if in contemplation. “I have an idea.” She proceeded to unzip his pants. He pulled hers down at the same time. She coughed. Joe placed his lips to hers, sending a mentholated lozenge in her mouth. She whooshed it around and sent it back to him. He pulled her to the wood floor and lifted her sweater, trailing icy-hot kisses down her stomach, then spreading her lower lips with his fingers, leaving her 65

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

clit exposed. He licked her with his lozenge-covered tongue and the glacial heat of the medicine, along with the skilled strokes of his tongue, sent her over the edge, the passionate waves rocking her body over and over. Joe slid his cock inside her, and with a few strokes came hard, collapsing into her with pleasure. “I didn’t mean for that to be so quick, but that mentholated stuff works—wow!” Claire laughed. “Quickies can be fun. I certainly enjoyed myself!” Claire felt so proud for catching the fish. Her arms ached from the unaccustomed pull and tug, but the whole experience had left her feeling elated. “I want to try again.” He laughed and baited her hook once again. “You know, eventually you’ll have to learn how to do this part.” “Well, maybe my second trip, next lesson.” By the time they quit fishing, each had two fish, but Claire threw the last one back in because of size. Laughing heartily, he told her to go on inside and he’d clean the fish so she could have the experience and supreme pleasure of cooking them. Claire took a shower, scrubbing furiously to get the smell of fish and lake off her body. She kept her fluffy robe on and sat down to watch television while Walleye Joe finished. In no time at all he was bringing in a pan of filleted fish ready for cooking. Then he took a shower and left for town. * * * Joe bought groceries and used the pay-phone booth to call an old pal from the DEA days. “Hey, Derek, it’s me. Long time no talk.” “Man, I thought you died in the firefight in Miami a year ago. Glad to hear you’re still alive and kicking.” “Yeah, well, they gave it their best shot, but I’m not one to go down easy. I survived—they didn’t.” “As the ole saying goes, ‘it’s hard to keep a good man down.’” 66

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

Derek laughed at his own joke. Joe didn’t like to beat around the bush. He drove straight to the point. “I need a favor.” “Anything. I owe you for saving my worthless hide.” “I have a friend in some trouble. I have her up here in Minnesota with me in hiding so I can’t do the leg work myself.” “What kind of trouble?” Joe gave Derek the run down of everything that happened to Claire and all his suspicions. “Well, it sure sounds like someone is after her. Where do you want me to begin?” “Why don’t you start with the fishing commissioner and maybe a company called Fry Hatchery, Inc.?” “Will do. I’ll call back in a couple of days with the goods. Where can I reach you?” “Call my cell.” Joe gave Derek the number. “Will do.” “By the way, I go by the name Walleye Joe Holek now.” “Walleye Joe.” Derek hooted with laughter and pounded the phone. “Well, isn’t that fitting? Okay, bug-eyes, you’ll be hearing from me.”

67

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

CHAPTER 7

Claire dozed on the couch waiting for Walleye Joe to return. She heard the door open and close, then smiled, glad he was finally home. She heard him sneak up close to her, but she feigned sleep. She slowly moved her left hand over her breasts, rubbing them, actually enjoying the sensation even while she was teasing him. Her nipples stood up hard and proud through her shirt and she pinched them, moaning from the glorious pressure. Slowly she took her right hand and moved it down her stomach, inching closer to her pussy, imagining how Joe would be responding to her demonstrations. Spreading her legs wide, she placed a finger on her clit, rubbing it in circles and moving her hips with the rhythm, moaning and writhing with pleasure, giving Joe a glimpse of things to come. Claire could hear Walleye Joe’s heavy breathing and a thrilled shiver rocked her body knowing the sexual power her prowess held over him, knowing his dick would be a steel beam by now, watching her touch and pleasure herself. 68

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

Without opening her eyes, she playfully asked, “Hey, big boy, why don’t you come replace my finger with your hot, wet tongue?” A voice foreign to her answered. “I’d love to, sweet cheeks, but I haven’t the time.” Claire gasped, her body reeling with shock and horror. Her eyes flew open just as a strange man clamped his hand over her mouth and grabbed her. She struggled, but he had the physical advantage. Before she could blink, her arm was behind her back between her shoulder blades and the hand still over her mouth, stifling her scream. “Sweet cheeks, I want you to walk out that door, nice and easy,” a whiskey sour voice warned ominously. “I really don’t want to dislocate this beautiful arm of yours, but I don’t want to be here when your boyfriend comes back either. So get a move on.” Obediently, her heart beating wildly, Claire walked toward the door, trying desperately to figure out some way to escape. With the car only a few feet away from the cabin door, she tried to elbow him in the gut while he opened the door. He grunted and moved her arm up higher on her back, making it feel like her shoulder socket was coming apart. Grabbing her hair, he thrust her into the car, sliding onto the seat beside her. She grabbed at his arm but just managed to rip more hair out on her head. Then she screamed. “Unless you want to take this trip gagged and tied, I suggest you relax.” She removed her hands from his arm and lowered them into her lap. Clamping her lips together in a mutinous line, she thought it best to be cooperative. This guy wasn’t playing games. He meant business. He started the car and put it in gear. Slowly they moved out of the driveway and down the road. Several minutes had passed and Claire couldn’t stand it any longer. The need to know far outgrew the fear. “Where are you taking me?” “To Dallas. My boss wants to see you.” “Who is your boss?” 69

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He drove her to the airport and stopped before a sleek private jet. He grabbed her hair again and they walked up the steps and her assailant closed the doors behind her. He led her to a seat and told her to strap in. Walking to the front of the plane he told the pilot to get going. He sat down across the aisle from her and threw her some sweat pants and shirt. “Put these on when we get airborne.” Claire felt the plane accelerate down the runway. She couldn’t think of one way to free herself. Her only hope laid in the fact Walleye Joe would come back to the cabin and see she was missing. He would find her. She was sure of it. After all he was DEA. Right? * * * Walleye Joe walked into the cabin with one thing on his mind—and it wasn’t eating. He set a couple of bags on the table and went to search for Claire. Hopefully she’d be in bed taking a nap and he would delight in waking her up. Maybe she’d gotten the idea first and was waiting for him—perfectly nude. He walked into the bedroom to find it empty; he walked to the bathroom and found it empty. Panic seized him. “Claire? Claire where are you?” he yelled. Silence was his only answer, and it lingered in the air loudly—dangerously. Where could she have gone? He searched the kitchen for a note. Then he perused the house, trying to gather any clues as to where she could be and what could have happened. The phone rang and Walleye Joe snatched it up. “Yeah, Walleye Joe here.” “Ah, may I speak to Claire?” “Who is this?” “Sam Dalton, Claire’s boss at the paper. Who’s this?” Ignoring his question, Walleye Joe demanded answers. “How did you get this number? How did you know Claire was here?” 70

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“She called me yesterday to tell me where she was and why. That’s why I’m calling. Can I speak to her?” “No, you can’t because she isn’t here. I just walked in from the grocery store and she’s gone—vanished into thin air. I’m worried.” “Oh, no. Do you think they got to her?” “What are you talking about? Who are they?” “That’s why I was calling—to tell her the news and warn her to be especially careful now.” Sam cleared his throat. “The fishing commissioner was killed at his home—another break-in. Sounds suspiciously familiar, doesn’t it?” “Yeah, too coincidental. When did this happen?” “Last night. It’s all over the news today. Do you think the same people have Claire?’ “I’d bet my life on it. I will be flying out of here immediately and I’ll meet you at your office.” “I’ll be here.” Fear raked through his body, causing him to shake and sweat. He had been here before, where someone he loved was in danger. Only last time, it was his fault. The bad memories assaulted him as the mental picture emerged—of the time the drug dealers held his wife hostage waiting for him. This was the reason for his divorce and why he quit a job he loved. This time someone he loved was in danger and not because of something that had to do with him or his job. Luckily he had been trained in finding scumbags like the ones that held Claire and he would find them. Stopping in mid-stride toward the bedroom, he thought about what had just popped in his mind. Love? Claire? Was it possible to really fall in love someone in such a short period of time? He wrestled with himself over the possibility and determined it must be true. He packed bags and dumped them on the floor at the front door. Throwing the bags of food he’d just bought into the refrigerator, he went to the telephone to make flight reservations. He felt a slight relief 71

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

from the tension that gripped his body when he found out he could make the early flight and be landing in Dallas in a few hours. Somehow that gave him some small peace. Driving fast but controlled, he made it to the airport in record time. Once settled in the airplane seat, he took the accountant’s papers out of Claire’s briefcase. The puzzle started here. Walleye Joe scrutinized the papers, trying to decipher the secrets. Why would the commissioner pay the Fry Hatchery to deliver a certain amount of fish and when the company obviously and blatantly didn’t, why didn’t he investigate the matter? It could only be a pay-off, he thought. But a pay-off for what and for how much? When they landed in Dallas, Joe immediately went to see Claire’s boss. The receptionist guided him though the noisy buzz of the newsroom until he stood in front of an office door. She knocked on the door and a gruff voice said, “Come in.” The receptionist turned and smiled at Walleye Joe. “You may go in.” Walleye Joe entered Sam’s office and shook his hand. “I am Joe Holek.” “Nice to meet you, Joe, I’m Sam Dalton. Have a seat.” “Thanks.” Joe sat and made himself comfortable. “Have you heard from Claire?” “Not a word. Do you expect me to?” “No, not really. I hoped this might be a simple ransom or a ploy for coverage of some type. But deep down, I know it is more than that.” “What’re you going to do?” “I have a friend helping with the investigation. Don’t worry, Sam. I’ll find her.” Joe stood up and told Sam to call his cell phone if he heard from Claire or found out any information. When he returned to the street, he called Derek from his cell. “Hey, man, it’s me. Since we spoke, a new development came up. Someone 72

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

snatched Claire right from under my nose. I’m in Dallas. Meet me at The Clubhouse…you know the place.” * * * Terrified, Claire disembarked from the plane to be immediately rushed into a limousine. The madman with her faced her down. She knew his ploy—psychological terrorism. He offered her a drink from the demi-bar and she accepted some wine to calm her nerves. “Where are you taking me?” “You’ll see soon enough.” “What do you want with me?” Claire tried to calm her voice, but it still contained a tremor of fear. “My boss will explain it all to you tonight. No more questions.” Claire watched for the street signs to see if she would recognize any. Sure enough, she saw University Drive in Highland Park and knew she’d been brought back to Dallas to the Highland District. The rich and famous. Who would want her in this neighborhood? They were the elite—CEOs, presidents, and old money. They got out of the limo at the side entrance of a sprawling mansion and were escorted through the kitchen area to the east wing of the house. She was shoved inside a room and heard the door lock behind her. Claire scanned her surroundings. An elaborate bedroom suite sprawled before her. She moved around the room, touching the television, stereo, armoire and dresser. She walked into the bathroom area and gasped at the lava rock shower and whirlpool tub big enough for four. Where was she, and more importantly, why was she here? She heard the sound of the lock opening on the door and she rushed back in the suite area to see several women dressed in belly dancing clothes enter the chambers. They carried tubs of equipment and boxes with them. Claire rushed to the door, but someone had already locked it from the outside. The women separated, one going into the bathroom and the other to 73

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

the bedroom. She followed the bathroom woman to talk to her. “Who are you?” The woman answered her in gibberish. “Damn! Do you speak any English?” The woman shook her head and motioned for her to sit on the stool. Claire sat down, watching the woman unload bottles of all shapes and sizes from her carton. The woman turned on bath water and poured a lovely smelling fragrance into the flow of water. She took out a brush and began brushing Claire’s hair and the other woman entered the bathroom and turned off the water. They both signed for her to stand. When she did, they began removing her clothes. Now Claire understood. They were here to serve her. She knew they did this kind of thing in foreign countries so the person that owned this house must be from overseas. Claire didn’t put up a fight. She pretended she was in one of those expensive spas that she would never in her life be able to afford. Once they washed and dried her hair, creamed her skin, styled her hair, and applied makeup, she felt quite beautiful. These women definitely knew how to pamper. She could get used to this. They led her into the bedroom, talking in their own language, and Claire stopped dead in her tracks at the door. Lying on the bed was a beautiful aquablue belly-dancing outfit. She picked up the see-through sleeves and legs of the outfit. “It’s lovely.” The women both smiled and nodded. They placed her arms in the sleeves and made her step into the pants. A large portion of her middle showed where they placed a jiggling belly bracelet. They slid slippers on her feet and stepped back, clapping their hands in excitement at their creation. Claire took this as a signal she was finally finished and stood before the mirror to admire the costume. She gasped at the exotic display before her. Never had she looked so beautiful, so feminine—a goddess. 74

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

The lock on the door clicked and the jailer clapped his hands at the women as they scurried out of the room. Again that irritating lock clicked shut with a finality that made her want to cry. Alone now, she lay on the bed to await her fate, whatever that might be. In an attempt to cheer herself, she thought about what a great story this would make…if she survived to tell it.

75

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

CHAPTER 8

Walleye Joe picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and waited at The Clubhouse for Derek. In the old days, they’d passed many an hour in this club while on assignments. The women who danced here were all beautiful, and sexy as hell. But today he couldn’t get in the mood to enjoy the dance, although he still watched in appreciation. Derek arrived shortly after Walleye Joe. They shook hands then gave each other a few claps on the back. Settling into their seats, Walleye Joe poured them a couple of drinks and got down to business. “What have you found out?” “Not enough. It appears that the police report shows the commissioner killed in a botched burglary of his home, but nothing appeared to be missing. A man named Rodney Ballinger owns the Fry Hatchery. He’s connected with the syndicate and I’d bet my left nut that he had the commissioner and the accountant whacked. What I haven’t been able to dig up is why? Walleye Joe gave him the rundown on what he’d been working on 76

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

and showed him the evidence the accountant had given Claire. “I think we should go have a look around the commissioner’s place. What do you say? You up for a little breaking and entering?” “I thought you’d never ask.” They left Derek’s car at The Clubhouse and drove the rental to the deceased’s house. Derek had apparently kept up his skills on the art of picking a lock and they were inside the house in a matter of minutes. They looked around in the commissioner’s desk, on the computer, in drawers—nothing, not one lead. Walleye Joe asked, “You think he might’ve left anything at the office?” Derek smiled. “It’s worth a try, but let’s make sure we haven’t left anything uncovered here. You check the bedroom and I’ll check that garage out back.” Joe was just finishing up with the bedroom when Derek walked back in holding an exotic woman by the arm. “Look what I found locked in the garage apartment.” “Does she speak English?” “No, but we are in luck—Vietnamese.” Derek had been in Special Forces in ’Nam and he asked her questions. Apparently he wasn’t too rusty because she began answering him so quickly she barely took a breath. He looked smug when he turned back to Joe with the info. “She was the commissioner’s sex slave.” “I beg your pardon?” “You heard me right. He bought and paid for her lock, stock and barrel. A slave in every sense of the word. You should’ve seen the kinky sex toys I found up in that garage apartment.” “So that is why the good ol’ commissioner paid off Rodney Ballinger. Rodney is in the slavery business.” “Appears so. That’s a burgeoning business these days, believe it or not. Billionaires, mansions hidden in vast acreage, iron gates and 77

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

electric fences, which serve as fortresses…” “What are we going to do with the girl?” “I thought we could drop her off with Kim, a Vietnamese friend who speaks both Vietnamese and English, on our way to good ol’ Rodney’s house. She could stay with her until we are finished with this job and they can talk. Kim may find out some useful information for us.” “Sounds like a plan. Let’s go.” Joe was quiet, but once the slave girl was out of the car, he mentioned to Derek, “You think they’re holding Claire for the same purpose? Do you think they’re planning to sell her as a sex slave?” “No, I don’t because we’re going to find her before they can.” * * * Claire tried to find a way to escape but the windows were barred and the door was solid. It had been hours since the women had left and her stomach growled fiercely. She stopped pacing when she heard the lock click. One of the women brought in a tray filled with bread, cheese and fruit. Claire smiled, grateful for the food. The woman left again and Claire sat down and ate. The food was divine, but the tea tasted a little funny to her. Once her stomach was full, she felt sleepy and laid on the bed to relax. The next thing she knew it was dark in the room and she felt a finger on her cheek and lips. A voice whispered to her, “You are very beautiful. I would love to keep you and train you for myself, but it cannot be.” Leaning down he gave her a kiss. Claire tried to lift her arms to push him away, but for some reason, they would not move. Her body felt like lead. After he broke the kiss, Rodney told one of the giants in the room to bind her. One placed cuffs on her arms and the other bound her feet. She felt groggy and disoriented. The giants held onto her as Rodney inspected her body like he was buying a car. “It is time. Take her to the 78

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

auction.” Auction? She was going to an auction? The giants held on to each arm and lifted her off the floor as they physically carried her down the hall. They led her to a room full of men of all races and ages. Placing her on a pedestal in the middle of the room, the giants told her to stay. Rodney stood beside her and explained her fate. She was to be auctioned off as a sex slave to the highest bidder “Wait a damn minute. You can’t do—” She didn’t finish her tirade before someone slipped a gag over her mouth from behind. “As you see men, she will be quite a challenge to tame. But the results will be worth the effort. Who will make the starting bid of one hundred thousand dollars?” * * * Joe and Derek drove to Rodney Ballinger’s residence and took note of the number of expensive limousines in the drive. “Looks like somebody’s having a party,” Derek commented. “Or a slave auction. You up for crashing a party, Derek?” “Couldn’t be a better day for it.” They stared at each other for a moment then parked the car on the street. Together in silent, lithe movements, they skirted around the side of the building to get a closer look. Standing on a platform in front of a room full of men stood Claire trussed up like a Christmas turkey. “The man standing beside the woman is Rodney Ballinger, the owner of Fry Hatchery,” Derek told Walleye Joe. “I’ll kill him later. We’ll hold off until we see which man buys her. Then we’ll move in for the rescue—and kill.” Derek nodded and they both witnessed the ultimate degradation of women sold into sexual slavery, something neither one of them would believe if they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes. * * * Claire had to stand on display for these men and listen to the 79

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

bidding. She tried to run, but one of the giants held her in place and the bindings were too tight. “Three-hundred thousand.” “Do I hear five?” “Five.” A fat, sweaty, bald man in the front row yelled out, “Six-hundred thousand dollars.” Claire scanned the room to see if anyone looked like they planned to bid higher, but the auctioneer said, “Going once. Going twice. Sold to the man in the front row for six-hundred thousand dollars.” Now she had no doubt what a human was worth. She closed her eyes and hung her head. Tears slid down her cheeks as she tried to come to grips with reality—her fate. Claire was lifted off the pedestal and led behind the waddling man to his limo outside. The giants started to remove her binds, but her new master spoke. “No. Leave them on. I like them bound and submissive.” The giants nodded and placed her in the car. She couldn’t sit up straight with her hands bound so she turned sideways in the seat with her knees together and as far away from the man as possible. Only he had other plans. He scooted over to her, cramming her into the corner of the car and running his pudgy fingers up her legs. Claire could actually feel her skin crawl, trying desperately to get away from his touch. When he had worked his way up to the top of her inner thigh, she tried to kick him. Slapping her, he said, “I would not try that again, angel. As you see, you cannot win. Just relax and enjoy.” She cursed him through her gag and squirmed in her seat. Suddenly the car swerved and brakes slammed, throwing her onto the floorboards. The fat man lay sprawled on the seat when the car came to a screeching halt. The driver and passenger doors were flung open and the men sitting in the seats jerked out of the car. The fat man yelled for his bodyguards. His door was thrown open. Claire watched as a huge 80

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

black man lifted the fat man out of the car and busted him right in his middle. The fat man hit the concrete hard. Then her door opened and she heard the most beautiful voice of any human being as Walleye Joe said, “Claire, baby, don’t be afraid. It’s me, Joe. Here, let me help you out of the car.” He lifted Claire out and helped her to her feet. As he released her bonds, she looked at the bodyguard on the ground—out cold and tied up like a steer in a rodeo. She smiled for the first time since the whole ordeal had begun. Once her restraints were off she fell into Walleye Joe’s arms, kissing him with all the love and tenderness she possessed. “I was so worried, Claire. And I missed you,” Walleye Joe said, holding her tight. “I missed you, too. I knew you’d find me. I just knew.” Derek walked around the front of the car, “Hey, guys, we better get a move on.” “Claire, I’d like you to meet Derek an old friend of mine.” “Old? Speak for yourself,” Derek said. “Joe has been a friend for a long time. I’m glad we found you.” “Thanks so much for saving me.” Claire stood on tiptoes and gave the man a kiss on the cheek. Smiling, Derek said, “You’re quite welcome. Anytime for a kiss like that.” Walleye Joe drove Derek back to his car at The Clubhouse then took Claire to a nice hotel. He ordered food and champagne brought to the room. While they waited for the food, Claire told Walleye-Joe to take his shower first. She wanted a nice warm bath and planned to soak as long as it took to get the feel of the fat man’s sweaty hands off of her body. While he was finishing with his shower and shave, the food arrived and they sat down to eat. Claire teased him with her food, enjoying making eating an erotic affair. 81

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

“Claire, I’m going to give Sam a quick call and let him know you’re okay. He’s been really worried, along with the rest of us.” After the quick call, Joe said, “Now this is what I call a true culinary delight,” savoring his last bit of shrimp. “This shrimp is the best—semi-orgasmic, I might add.” As he finished up, she grinned, stuck out her tongue and headed to the bathroom to take her soak in the bath. Emerging for the bathroom she had on her belly-dancing garb with the swaying scarves that went along with the outfit. Well, at least she got one thing out of the ordeal—a to-die-for-belly-dancing-outfit—one she’d never be able to afford on her salary. Joe lay propped up on the pillows watching television. She moved between the television and his line of vision and began a belly dancing routine she made up as she went along. She enjoyed the glow of appreciation in his eyes as he watched her sway and gyrate. When the dance was over, she crawled up between his legs, kissing as she went. Then she leaned over, popping the cork on the bottle of chilled Dom Perignon that room service had delivered. Claire took the scarves and tied Joe’s hands and feet to the bedposts, then poured the bubbly liquid into the flutes. Moving one glass up to his lips, she poured some into his mouth. “Ummmhhh,” he said. “That’s good. More.” Claire grabbed a grape off the food tray and dropped it in his mouth. She took a sip of champagne from her flute and held it in her mouth, swallowing most of it but leaving a nice residue on her tongue. Leaning forward to kiss him, she sent the exotic flavor straight into his mouth, her tongue tangoing with his. Joe loved her style, always keeping him off guard. With Claire, one could always expect the unexpected, but know whatever the outcome, would be pure unadulterated fun. He swallowed it and groaned with pleasure. “What did I do to deserve this, sweetheart?” “Just by being you, honey. Just by being you.” 82

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

She poured a drop of bubbly on each of his nipples, then sucked off the wetness, loving the feel of them hardening in her mouth, just like his penis. Then she tipped the flute and made a trail all the way down the middle of his chest, licking it off as she went. The champagne pooled in his belly button, which she slowly sucked and licked, enjoying the tensing of his stomach muscles. Tipping the flask over his penis, she placed a few drops on the head, then she set the flute on the night table before she sucked the champagne from his cock. “Oh, Claire, that feels wonderful. Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop.” Claire took the length of him into her mouth, deeply sucking his rod into her throat. He writhed, trying to pull his hands loose from the scarves, but they didn’t budge. She moved on top of him, rotating her pelvis in slow rhythmic circles, the kind he loved. Then she slid onto his enormous dick, and with him inside her, she leaned back, stretching and releasing all her muscles as she rose up and slid down. She reached for the champagne bottle, cupped her hand and filled it with champagne, splashing it on the base of his penis and balls. Joe laughed. “Oh, my God, you’re tantalizing me, woman. I’m so close. I’m coming soon. Get ready, baby.” The bed creaked and groaned as she increased her pounding, loving the feel of him deep and full inside of her. She felt his muscles tighten under her as he yelled out, thrusting into her as she drove onto him faster, tightening her muscles around him with her orgasmic paroxysms. “Yes, Joe, I’m coming with you. Now, baby. Now!” * * * They lay in each other arms enjoying the sated utopia. “I’ll need to file charges with the police,” Claire said. “Yes, sweetheart, you will, but I’m with you every step of the way.” Then he turned and whispered in her ear, “I love you, Claire O’Malley.” “I love you, too, Walleye Joe Holek. But you know what I don’t 83

DOUBLE-DARE CLAIRE

love?” “What’s that?” “Your name. Can I just call you Joe?” “I’d prefer you called me Justin.” “Why?” “That’s my real name. Once I quit the agency, I changed my name for protection. Walleye Joe seemed as good as anything I could come up with.” “Justin…I like it.” Justin kissed Claire on the forehead and looked deep into her eyes. “I’d like to go back to the agency. Would you mind?” Claire gave him one of her most brilliant smiles. “If that is what you want to do, I’d never hold you back. And now that I’ve been a victim, I’d like to know you’re out there helping other people like you did me.” “Thank you, sweetheart. For making my life complete.” “You, too. Oh, by the way, do you like hockey? I just happen to have two season tickets.”

84

VELVET VEERS

Velvet Veers divides her time between homes in Texas, Louisiana, and Minnesota. She has been writing for ten years, has published three books under different pen names, and written two screenplays, one of which has been optioned by a major independent film production company. She has contracted three separate trilogies of e-novellas for Amber Quill Press’s “Amber Heat” imprint: Companionship, Inc., Virtual Fantasy, Inc., and Road Warriors, Inc. A new title will appear each month, beginning in June 2003! Velvet has undergraduate degrees in business and psychology and a master degree in counseling. She loves to read, run, ride Gold-Wing motorcycles, snow ski, travel and write. She has six children, three dogs and two cats. She loves to hear from her readers, so please visit her web site at: http://www.velvetveers.com

*

*

*

Don’t miss Virtual Fantasy, Inc.: Book I: Project Temptation, by Velvet Veers, available Summer, 2003, from Amber Quill Press, LLC

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC THE GOLD STANDARD IN P UBLISHING

QUALITY BOOKS IN BOTH PRINT AND ELECTRONIC FORMATS ACTION /ADVENTURE

SUSPENSE/THRILLER

SCIENCE FICTION

PARANORMAL

MAINSTREAM

MYSTERY

ROMANCE

FANTASY

EROTICA

HORROR

HISTORICAL

WESTERN

YOUNG ADULT

NON-FICTION

BUY DIRECT AND S AVE http://www.amberquill.com