My Secret Fantasies

“What’d your sister have to say about that?”

“She blamed me for trying to seduce him, and warned me I’d better stay away from her man. It was like a soap opera.” Only much worse, because instead of watching the drama happen to your favorite characters on daytime TV from the comfort of a living room sofa, I had it happen to me in real life, and it had been 100 percent awful.

“Wow.” Shaking his head, he brushed a light kiss on my shoulder through the blanket, and my heart squeezed tight with tenderness for him.

For years, I hadn’t shared this story with anyone but a bargain-budget shrink, who’d helped me work through some of it. Now, it was nice to have Damien side with me.

“Yeah. Exactly.” I debated what else to say, since I didn’t want the night to turn into a pity-poor-me fest. I was putting that whole period behind me, methodically dealing with all the crap from my past. On the other hand, there was something else Damien needed to know about it. “Then, when I was on Gutsy Girl, one of the camera crews went to my hometown to talk to my family and interview people who knew me.”

“Your family didn’t spill that stuff on camera, I hope.”

“No. But it wasn’t difficult to find a friend of my sister’s who called me a backstabber. In her words, I ‘tried to break up Nina’s marriage by flirting with her husband.’” I couldn’t remember ever feeling so angry and betrayed as when I saw that footage. “But that’s reality television, you know. Heavy on melodrama, light on reality.”

“That’s Hollywood—period.” He shook his head. “Sorry you’re dealing with the fallout from something that should have been over a long time ago.”

“I should have known better when I agreed to do the show in the first place.” I shrugged. “I guess I was romanced by the whole notion of being a gutsy girl.”

Joelle had really encouraged me to do it, knowing how hard I’d worked to become more fit ever since moving to Los Angeles. A lot of the challenges came easily to me because I was in such good shape. Winning Gutsy Girl had given me a new level of self-confidence. Now all that remained for me to really fix myself and heal the past? Ditch the sexual hang-ups. And the book was going to help me do that, I was certain.

“It takes guts to change your life. Sounds to me like you had plenty going for you before the show started.”

“Yeah? Maybe you’re right.” I preferred to think of my life that way. Plus, I didn’t want him feeling sorry for me. I wanted him to kiss me again someday. “But either way...that’s the story behind why I’m writing my book.”

My cheeks heated as I said it, but he deserved to know the truth.

“I don’t get it.” His dark brows came together in confusion. “What does the past have to do with writing an erotic novel?”

“I’m writing about what I want instead of...anything I’ve ever experienced.”

His eyebrows shot up and his hand stilled on my hip.

He said nothing, but I noticed the way his breathing shifted. I felt the spike in temperature between us.

“That’s one reason why the book is so important to me. It’s helping me put the past to rest.” I burned from attraction and self-consciousness at the same time, but I didn’t let embarrassment hold me back from touching his chest. Feeling his heart beat beneath my palm. I was the Gutsy Girl winner, damn it. I could do this. “I’m writing about what I want—sexually. And after we met, I realized that it was you.”

5

DAMIEN CLENCHED HIS HANDS with the need to take Miranda upstairs. His chest constricted as if he couldn’t get a breath, and his erection strained against his jeans, more than ready to answer the call of her provocative statement.

She was writing about him in that book of hers. She wanted him.

Sexually.

Hell, she couldn’t have spelled it out any more clearly.

But despite the green lights flashing, and the warm woman an inch away, he would not let himself have her. Not now. Not this way.

Because his brain told him it was a bad idea. She needed to write the book—needed him—because someone else had hurt her.

Acknowledging that was the only thing keeping the rest of him in check.

“I can’t begin to guess what you must be thinking of me right now,” Miranda admitted quietly, picking at the purple flower sticker on one of her nails.

Making him realize he’d better man up in a hurry if he didn’t want to lose any chance he had with her down the road.