Sealed Fate (Box Set)

Sealed Fate (Box Set)
Lia Connor
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Lia Connor



Breathe. Just... breathe. In... out. One... two. And relax.

How the hell was she supposed to relax? Erin wished she could take her palms off her thighs and sink her chin into them. Now that she'd managed to twist herself into the lotus position, how was she ever supposed to get out of it?

"God did not make women to be pretzels!" she muttered, her voice barely audible over the rush and swell of ocean waves. "Or pretzel sticks, either, for that matter. Or sticks of any kind. So I need to lose a few pounds. That's my business. I know, I'm supposed to relax. Ha. Relax, my heinie. Actually, I wish I could relax my heinie."

She shifted uncomfortably. The cool ocean breeze tickled her bare skin. Dark blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, dressed in a tank top, with loose shorts on, she should be comfortable. Erin didn't do things by half-measures. Every effort had gone into making this vacation a success. She'd picked her spot with care -- close to the ocean, on her own private beach, with a nice thick blanket to sit on. She had bottled water, her pepper spray, and a cell phone close at hand. Snug and reasonably safe, she had no reason not to relax.

Trouble was, Erin just didn't think she knew how.

As Supervisor of Paramedics, she'd seen enough trauma that after five years with no time off, her psych review counselor had ordered her to take a vacation. Now she was attempting to make use of the investment she'd made in Relaxation Techniques and Personal Well-being. Trouble was Erin had as much trouble taking the book seriously as she did twisting her thighs into The Lotus.

She sighed again, trying to breathe correctly. In... out. In... out.

Relax. Relax. Relax.

No good. She never had been able to shut her mind off. Relax -- hah. She could have done this from the comfort of her own home and had as much luck, what with the cable news shows, the phone, neighbors stopping by, shopping lists she needed to make...

Desperation had led her to her dream vacation -- and a small rental cottage on the coast of Ireland. No TV. No phone. Solitude. A place to relax. Letting her breath out again, she opened her eyes and gazed at the white-capped waves as they rolled into shore. So she wasn't meditating the way the book said. She'd dragged her ass halfway around the world to relax, and she could do that just fine with a little ocean-watching. Then she'd just lie to her counselor and say that yep, those techniques worked like a charm, so I'll be heading back to work now.

Not that she'd stay all that long. It gave her a mild case of the creeps to be out there by herself. Only one person had passed by so far. He shouldn't have been there at all. This was all private property. Middle-aged and craggy-faced, dressed in worn jeans and a ratty T-shirt, his arms covered in thick Celtic tattoos -- Dogs of War, she thought -- he'd been creepy enough she'd reached for her pepper spray. Something about him set her senses on red alert. Luckily, he'd passed by before she could decide whether or not to lecture him for being on private property. She was just as glad. A man like that -- she'd seen his type enough to know he could be a pretty nasty character.

Enough. Think about something else. She stared at the waves breaking against the rocky coast. This was nice enough, she guessed. But what would make it even better? A decent man. Yep, definitely a decent, not to mention hot, man. She'd been single for a long time, even in high school and college. A classic overachiever, she'd never had much time for guys. The odd date every now and again was all she could fit in. But when she came down to a moment of peace and quiet like she was finding here, she realized she was wishing for warm arms to wrap around her and cuddle her close -- not to mention a good strong pair of hands to untangle her legs from this damned lotus!

After that, the man would lie down with her on the blanket and kiss her, soft and gentle. Sweet little kisses dotting her face, moving to her lips, growing eager for more. Hands that moved across her body, seeking out generous, sensitive breasts, running over the ample curves of her hips, then down between her thighs, sure and smooth as the tide, with the same stroking rhythm.

Erin groaned. Great. Now she was stuck in a sailor's knot of ankles and knees, and she'd gotten herself all hot and horny. What next?