seeing anyone. I know it's a personal question, but I'm just curious."
"Are you married?"
"Yes."
"Happily?"
Nila grinned. "Oh is that it? You married a piece of trash and hate mankind?"
"I don't hate men. I don't have the energy. I just haven't met the right one yet."
"Do you want to?"
Stacy lifted her brows in feigned surprise. "Are you offering?"
"If I swung the other way I'd be hitting on you. You're attractive, you're smart, you're kind." She finished her coffee and set the empty cup on the table.
Stacy sniffed. No one had called her attractive in years. "Not many men think so. My ex didn't and I did a horrible thing to some guy's car. I've been thinking I'll take myself off the market for a while."
"Thinking and doing are two different things." Nila pulled out a little black book and started scribbling down some notes. "You're interested in someone now, aren't you?"
Stacy watched her with interest. "What are you doing?"
"Just got a great idea I want to write down before I lose it." She looked up at Stacy and winked. "As a writer, I'm sure you know how that feels."
"How did you know I'm a writer?"
"Prisons have ears. I heard about the new program that you're part of. I think it's great."
"It wasn't my idea."
"It's still great. So what kind of man do you want?"
"We're back to that?"
"Just pretend. Come on, you're a writer, use your imagination."
Stacy hesitated, lifting her coffee cup then setting it back down. She sighed. "He doesn't exist."
Nila's grin grew. "Say it anyway."
"A man who's successful in his own right and won't be jealous of my success, but proud. And confident. Considerate and can laugh at himself."
"Ambitious but carefree?"
Stacy frowned. "I told you he doesn't exist."
Nila shrugged. "You'd be surprised." She put her black book away. "I hope things work out with you and Houdini."
"Thanks." Stacy looked down at Houdini and hoped so too.
***
Rockett looked around the elegant hotel room enjoying the scent of the fresh sheets and expensive cologne before she let her gaze settle on the man who sat on the bed. She'd been warned about him. He liked it rough and hard. Fortunately she was a professional and was prepared. He was better looking than she'd expected. The men who hired her usually didn't look this good or weren't this young. She knew he was a doctor, but that was all she needed or wanted to know. He probably had a wife, or a girlfriend, who didn't know his real desire, that was fine with her. Those women kept her in business. He wasn't a talker, which was a relief. The talkers bored her, although they were usually easier to please. The show Heartbeat was on the TV, and she reached to turn it off, even though it was one of her favorite shows.
"Leave it," he said.
She grinned at him. "And if I don't?"
He snatched the remote from her and set it aside.
She shrugged. Each man was different and she'd take his lead on the game he wanted to play. She knew he liked to dole out punishment and that was what she was there for. She soon discovered he didn't like toys, so he ignored the chains, the handcuffs and the whip, preferring to use his hands to slap and scratch her. He was harder, faster, rougher and more vicious than she'd expected, but she was a professional and didn't let her surprise show.
When he wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed, she welcomed the sexual high of suffocation, but before she slipped into dark unconsciousness she saw the rage in his eyes. Quickly her arousal was enveloped by fear and for a brief moment, she wondered if she'd ever see daylight again.
***
Stacy sat alone in a restaurant, eating her way through a chocolate mousse wanting to forget her miserable day at the detention center. She'd dropped Houdini at home later that day, to be looked after by Kelly, her housekeeper, before treating herself. As she stared at her chocolate mousse the man she'd met with laughing, dark brown eyes came into her mind. She wished she knew the
"Are you married?"
"Yes."
"Happily?"
Nila grinned. "Oh is that it? You married a piece of trash and hate mankind?"
"I don't hate men. I don't have the energy. I just haven't met the right one yet."
"Do you want to?"
Stacy lifted her brows in feigned surprise. "Are you offering?"
"If I swung the other way I'd be hitting on you. You're attractive, you're smart, you're kind." She finished her coffee and set the empty cup on the table.
Stacy sniffed. No one had called her attractive in years. "Not many men think so. My ex didn't and I did a horrible thing to some guy's car. I've been thinking I'll take myself off the market for a while."
"Thinking and doing are two different things." Nila pulled out a little black book and started scribbling down some notes. "You're interested in someone now, aren't you?"
Stacy watched her with interest. "What are you doing?"
"Just got a great idea I want to write down before I lose it." She looked up at Stacy and winked. "As a writer, I'm sure you know how that feels."
"How did you know I'm a writer?"
"Prisons have ears. I heard about the new program that you're part of. I think it's great."
"It wasn't my idea."
"It's still great. So what kind of man do you want?"
"We're back to that?"
"Just pretend. Come on, you're a writer, use your imagination."
Stacy hesitated, lifting her coffee cup then setting it back down. She sighed. "He doesn't exist."
Nila's grin grew. "Say it anyway."
"A man who's successful in his own right and won't be jealous of my success, but proud. And confident. Considerate and can laugh at himself."
"Ambitious but carefree?"
Stacy frowned. "I told you he doesn't exist."
Nila shrugged. "You'd be surprised." She put her black book away. "I hope things work out with you and Houdini."
"Thanks." Stacy looked down at Houdini and hoped so too.
***
Rockett looked around the elegant hotel room enjoying the scent of the fresh sheets and expensive cologne before she let her gaze settle on the man who sat on the bed. She'd been warned about him. He liked it rough and hard. Fortunately she was a professional and was prepared. He was better looking than she'd expected. The men who hired her usually didn't look this good or weren't this young. She knew he was a doctor, but that was all she needed or wanted to know. He probably had a wife, or a girlfriend, who didn't know his real desire, that was fine with her. Those women kept her in business. He wasn't a talker, which was a relief. The talkers bored her, although they were usually easier to please. The show Heartbeat was on the TV, and she reached to turn it off, even though it was one of her favorite shows.
"Leave it," he said.
She grinned at him. "And if I don't?"
He snatched the remote from her and set it aside.
She shrugged. Each man was different and she'd take his lead on the game he wanted to play. She knew he liked to dole out punishment and that was what she was there for. She soon discovered he didn't like toys, so he ignored the chains, the handcuffs and the whip, preferring to use his hands to slap and scratch her. He was harder, faster, rougher and more vicious than she'd expected, but she was a professional and didn't let her surprise show.
When he wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed, she welcomed the sexual high of suffocation, but before she slipped into dark unconsciousness she saw the rage in his eyes. Quickly her arousal was enveloped by fear and for a brief moment, she wondered if she'd ever see daylight again.
***
Stacy sat alone in a restaurant, eating her way through a chocolate mousse wanting to forget her miserable day at the detention center. She'd dropped Houdini at home later that day, to be looked after by Kelly, her housekeeper, before treating herself. As she stared at her chocolate mousse the man she'd met with laughing, dark brown eyes came into her mind. She wished she knew the
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