Heart Song Anthology Carolyn Faulkner (rooftoppers txt) 📖

to him across the room, stopping him in his tracks.

Warrington stood with his hand on the doorknob. “What do you mean?” He was smiling.

Alison pulled her knees tighter into herself. “Are you kidding me? Don’t try to make me think I imagined it, that I imagined there was someone else in the room, someone else touching me.” Alison spoke so fast she could barely get the words out.

“No,” he said, slowly, casually, “you didn’t imagine it.”

Alison took a moment to let the confirmation of her suspicions register. “So?” she said with a shrug.

“So, what?”

“So, who was it?”

“Does it matter right now?” he asked.

“Of course it does, it matters.” She threw a cushion at him. It landed at his feet.

Warrington walked back towards Alison, sitting on the opposite end of the couch while Alison remained where she was.

“My love,” he began.

“Don’t ‘my love’ me,” she said, cutting him off. But his words had the effect she knew he wanted them to. Hearing them, and the affectionate tone, disarmed her. She slid her legs down, straight across the couch, her toes touching his thigh.

Warrington began again. “Did you enjoy it?”

Alison didn’t want to answer, couldn’t answer. She was confused. She did enjoy it, but there was someone else. And yet...

“Alison?” It was his commanding voice now.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Did you enjoy it?”

Hesitantly, she answered. “Yes, I did. But–”

It was his turn to cut her off this time. “That’s all that matters right now.”

“But–”

Warrington stopped her. “No,” he said, tickling her toes and getting up from the couch. He leaned in and kissed her.

Alison threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a longer kiss than he’d originally offered. When the kiss ended, she looked deep into his face and those eyes. “But Matt, I didn’t expect that. I would never have expected that.”

“You didn’t seem to object.”

She punched him playfully in the chest. “How could I? You were holding me down.”

“But you came.”

Alison grew suddenly reserved. Quietly, she said, “Yes, I did.”

“Hard.”

“Hard,” she echoed.

Warrington gently freed himself from her embrace. He stood and began moving for the door. He looked at his watch. “I’m late, we can talk more about it later. Pick me up after work.”

Warrington gave Alison a beautiful, loving smile as he swung the door open. “I love you.” The next moment he was through the door, gone.

Chapter 2

Miranda sat behind her desk in her office, smiling, pleased, and amused at the same time. She was still, sorting through the flood of thoughts that fill her mind. Her focus was suddenly broken by a knock at the door.

“It’s open,” she called with a raised voice.

The door opened halfway, Warrington poking his head inside.

Miranda smiled. “Did you tell her it was me?”

Warrington smiled back. “No.”

“Did you even tell her I would be there?”

“No.”

“Seriously?” Miranda dropped her smile. “Why not?”

“I was going to, then I started enjoying the game.”

“Is she upset? I would be upset.” Miranda paused a second before saying, “That’s not right.” A concerned expression crossed her face.

“It’s fine,” Warrington saw her expression and tried to ease her mind. “I know Alison, I knew how she would react. She was upset at first. Then she thought about it, and how much she enjoyed it.”

“She liked it?” Miranda’s voice rose an octave, sounding inquisitive and hopeful at the same time.

“Couldn’t you tell?”

“Oh yeah, I could tell.” After a pause, “good.” Miranda relaxed again. “So, she’s in for tomorrow?”

“Not so fast. Once, caught off guard and surprised, is not the same as knowing what’s going on and agreeing to it.”

“But you just said–”

Warrington cut her off, looking at his watch. “I’ve got to run, I’m late already. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Warrington–”

The door was already closed, and Warrington was gone.

The Dominion hotel is set back from the sidewalk, the cobblestoned drive leading up to the porte cochere arching up to the front of the hotel. A large flower bed sits in the middle, between the hotel and the street. Miranda stood just outside the glassed entranceway, clipboard clutched close to her chest, waiting, watching the traffic go by and looking at the flowers in bloom. She always fantasized about how rewarding it would be to have a green thumb, to grow a living thing, adding color and beauty to the world. She’d tried her hand at gardening a few times, with little success, and had resigned herself to admiring other people’s handiwork.

A black sedan entered the driveway on Miranda’s left, slowly making its way up the driveway towards the hotel entrance. Miranda checked her clipboard quickly, before the car was upon her and she had to reach for the door handle of the car that came to rest before her.

A tall, thin, European-looking man stepped out of the vehicle, silently, expectantly standing in front of Miranda.

“Signore Dante,” Miranda pronounced his name with a perfect Italian accent, as if she were announcing his arrival.

Dante finally moved, pleased to have been announced. He took off the sunglasses hiding his eyes, looking around the porte cochere as if expecting an audience to recognize his name and acknowledge his arrival. There was no one there to do so, only Miranda and the doorman. When he realized this, he turned his gaze on Miranda, flashing a smile that showed perfect teeth.

“Antonio Dante,” was all he said, sliding his sunglasses into the breast pocket of his perfectly tailored silk suit with a demeanor of casual disinterest.

As if from nowhere, an equally tall Italian woman appeared at Antonio’s elbow, slipping her arm into his, taking possession of him. He did not acknowledge her presence, continuing to look at Miranda. Not giving his companion even a side glance, he said, “This is Brigitte. She is my,” he paused, “pet.” His accent was thick, but his annunciation was perfect.

Miranda knew Brigitte was Antonio’s sub even before he spoke. She had a way of being in his presence, close but not too close, possessive, aware of his every move and ready to accommodate his whim at any