Lori Wilde - Packed With Pleasure

Sex panther was more like it.

Growling under her breath, she headed for the hotel elevator. She had splurged on a manicure, pedicure and a facial. She’d shaved her legs, plucked her eyebrows and waxed her upper lip. She was smooth and pampered and sleekly groomed. Tonight Eden was an overworked Manhattan CEO in a black bustier with a garter and thigh-high stockings on underneath her staid gray business suit—an executive who liked tying men up and having her way with them.

And Alec would be the one.

By the time he knocked on the door, Eden had music playing, candles flickering and the champagne uncorked. When she opened the door, he bounded inside and swept her into his arms.

“God,” he groaned, “I thought tonight would never get here. The waiting kills me.”

“Ah,” Eden replied, “that’s part of my plan.”

“Your plan is more evil than world domination.”

“Ha. You’ll think evil when you find out what I have in store for you tonight.”

“Bring it on,” he said, a smile searing his lips.

Dear Reader,

One day when I was cleaning my house—yes, even we Blaze authors must put down the sex toys occasionally and dust cobwebs—a snippet of provocative dialogue popped into my head. I had no idea who the characters were or the premise of the story, just the opening conversation.

However, it didn’t take me long to realize I had a powerful theme to explore. What holds a woman back from acting out her most seductive sexual fantasies? Once I asked that question, Eden Montgomery began to whisper her story into my ear. And when I learned Eden’s secret shame I knew she needed someone tender and caring. Someone fun loving and spontaneous and just a little bit reckless. Someone who would encourage her to face her fears and embrace her sexuality. Someone like daredevil Alec Ramsey.

Except, with the help of her friends and a very special stone, Eden ends up teaching Alec far more about love than he ever bargained for. I hope you enjoy Eden and Alec’s story and that your own romantic adventures are, well…wickedly wonderful.

I love to hear from my readers. You can visit my Web site www.loriwilde.com or write to me at loriwilde02@yahoo.com.

Lori Wilde

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Diana Tidlund

A very special woman who makes the world a better place.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

“RED-VELVET-LINED handcuffs?”

“Check.”

“Silk blindfold?”

“Check.”

“Crotchless crimson lace panties?”

“Check.”

“Cinnamon-scented massage oil?”

“Check.”

“Video camera and extra cassettes?”

“Check and double check.”

“Plenty of condoms?”

Eden Montgomery clicked her tongue and shot her petite, purple-and-scarlet-haired assistant a chiding glance. “Ashley, I’m a professional. Of course I’ve included condoms.”

“Hey,” Ashley protested, waving a tattooed wrist. “I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Eden frowned. “Trouble?”

Ashley cleared her throat. “Well, I didn’t really want to say anything because this was a rush order, but you do realize that you created this exact same gift basket a couple of months ago? Back then, I think you called it Seduction in Scarlet.”

Eden stared at her assistant, and then shifted her gaze to the basket. A lump of dismay slid down her throat. Good grief, Ashley was right. The basket was identical to one she’d made for a famous Broadway actor’s thirty-fifth birthday. Right down to the vermilion pashmina she’d used to line the basket.

“Don’t look so stricken. Repeating yourself is no great tragedy, even if you do advertise your baskets as one-of-a-kind creations. Seriously, E., who’s gonna know?”

“I’ll know.” Immediately, Eden began dismantling the basket, tossing items out across the counter. Her reputation was based on her word. She would not be guilty of false advertising.

“Look, you don’t have time for a major overhaul. The customer is due to pick it up this afternoon.”

“I don’t care.”

“What are you going to do instead?”

“I don’t know.” Eden looked at the demolished basket, the urge to cry surprising her with its intensity.

“Admit it, you have been rather frazzled for the past month or so,” Ashley observed. “What you need is a good long vacation.”

Frazzled wasn’t the word for it. Lately, she had been well…stagnant.

As the proprietor of Wickedly Wonderful, a tiny boutique in a trendy slice of Manhattan that specialized in erotic gift baskets for those uniquely seductive occasions such as honeymoons and anniversaries, Eden’s business lived or died on the strength of her creativity. Unfortunately, her artistic fount had run dry.

She had slammed headlong into an invisible mental wall. She was blocked. Clogged. Bereft of an original concept.

The thrill was gone.

Think. Come on, Eden, you can do it. Come up with a fresh idea.

She couldn’t really pinpoint when she’d started to lose intimacy with her work, but about five weeks ago, almost two years to the day after the tragic fiery accident that had led her to specializing in erotica, she’d noticed her concentration slipping. Before the fire she had operated a normal gift store, producing baskets for all occasion from holidays to bar mitzvahs to baby showers, but she’d had difficulty keeping the business solvent.

And then two things had happened. One, a regular client had asked her to design an erotic gift basket for her sister’s honeymoon and, two, Eden’s apartment building had caught fire.

She’d helped her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Grant, escape, but she’d then gone back into the building to help others. A burning ceiling beam had fallen, pinning her pelvis to the floor. Two burly members of the FDNY had arrived just in time to save her from succumbing to smoke inhalation. They hadn’t, however, been able to stop her from receiving third-degree burns.

Eden briefly closed her eyes, sucked in her breath and grimaced at the remembered pain of the fateful night that had changed her life forever. Involuntarily, she splayed a palm across her lower abdomen.

“Is there something going on?” Ashley angled her head. The tiny hoop earring pierced through her left eyebrow caught the light and glinted gold. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she denied. Usually people confided in her, not the other way around. She was more comfortable being the shoulder to cry on than the one revealing her feelings.

“Does it have anything to do with the fire?”