Romans & histoires Under Currents Nora Roberts

I would usually take three days to prepare to say just three words. “No, actually . . .” “Nonsense. Come on.” “Mother fucker,” I whispered under my breath. After downing his shot, Rob lead me up to the brightly lit stage in front and I made a mental note to add Rob to my Black List. The List contained the names of people that I would do business with only through a proxy, otherwise it might end with me in an orange jumpsuit scratching out tally marks on the walls of a dingy shithole.

The bottoms were high waisted while the top was a bandeau of sorts. I tried my hardest to keep myself from picturing Rose in either of them, but my mind rushed to create an image of Rose's lean, well-muscled body barely clothed, dripping wet as she stepped out of a pool. I discretely lowered the book I still had in my hands to cover my growing erection.

“Why would you even—?” “Because of this thing between you and Noah? It’s not clear. You can’t keep living in limbo. If he wants you, he’ll come for you. If he doesn’t? You move on. Period.” Mira crossed her arms. “You said you were ready to move forward. So do it.” Nora stood there, silent. Her fingers twitched at her side, brushing over the silk of her dress. Her body looked different tonight—bold, sleek, desirable. But her heart? It was still the same.

As the Nashville brothers makes their way back home, unaware of the secret world unfolding within the study room, David and Karen are left to navigate the complexities of their desires and the consequences that awaits them outside those walls. Nora's eyes flutter open, her body feeling weaker than usual, as if all her energy has been drained away. A throbbing pain emanates from her private area, causing her to wince in agony. Confusion cloud her mind as she tries to piece together what has happened, wondering why she is in such discomfort. Summoning her strength, Nora makes a determined effort to rise from the bed. Each step towards the desk feels like an arduous journey, her legs trembling

I had no idea what to tell her. The masseuse reached for hot stones and placed them one by one down my spine. They were warm, grounding. I needed them more than I thought. “You know I’m not judging you, right?” Nora said after a bit. “I’m just… watching. You’re in a very dangerous love triangle with two very rich, very hot men and I’m just over here eating crab cakes and living vicariously through you.” I snorted. “You were hired to cook the crab cakes. Plus, you have someone… did you get over the flowers so quick?”

“Time for you to study now, little T-Rex.” Reno raised his arms, “Rawrrr!” Rebecca laughed softly, picked Reno up, and carried him to his room to help him study. Meanwhile, back in the same hotel room she had been staying in since yesterday, Nora looked more disheveled than ever. Her hair was a mess, her eyes puffy, and her face weary. She stood by the window, peeking out. “Why are the cameras still there? Why are they still waiting?” she muttered in frustration.

Vivienne Cabot was extraordinary in a polished, finished way, and standing next to Dominic she looked like the correct answer to a question about what his life was supposed to contain. Nora looked at the photographs longer than was useful. Then she closed the browser entirely, put on her running shoes, and went out into the October dark. Three miles. The playlist she used when she needed to outrun a thought heavy beat, no lyrics she could follow, the sonic equivalent of a white noise machine. She came back sweating and steadier and she showered and ate and sat on her fire escape with a blanket and called her mother. "How's work?" her mother asked.

Then he looked down into Nora’s eyes and saw the misery there and he knew why Cole was giving the little sub another chance to speak out. She shook her head and Cole’s gaze hardened. “Take off your top,” he ordered. She was wearing a loose, sleeveless top and short skirt. Nora gaped at Cole, her jaw dropping open. From what Damien knew, this particular sub wasn’t comfortable being naked. But she pulled off her top without a word, revealing a lacy, red bra. Far racier lingerie than Damien had assumed would be underneath her rather modest clothing. “And the bra, Nora.” She hesitated for a long moment.

“Hypothermia doesn’t care how pretty you look.” Nora hesitated, arms crossed over her chest. “I am fine.” “You are shaking. Go on and strip.” She turned toward the fire, back to him, and peeled off the soaked parka. Beneath it her merino base layer clung transparently to her skin, outlining the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist. She tugged it over her head, hair tumbling free. Goosebumps raced across her arms, nipples hardening instantly in the chill.

I pleaded, desperately peeling his hand off mine and swiftly walking away. As I hurriedly made my way towards the office I had been directed to, I couldn't shake off the nagging thought that if that guy was indeed a worker there, how could he afford such an extravagantly expensive car? Pushing the question aside, I made my way to the receptionist. "Hi I'm Nora Roberts, I was told to resume today" I said to the beautiful blonde lady who looked nice. She returned my smile and searched through some files as she spoke "Oh you're the new Personal Assistant to Mr Nathaniel Lockhart"