Her Pleasure Warrior
Katerina Cole
Head Over Heels Press
Copyright © 2018 by Katerina Cole
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
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1. Wyatt
2. Aly
3. Wyatt
4. Aly
5. Aly
6. Wyatt
7. Aly
8. Wyatt
9. Wyatt
10. Aly
11. Wyatt
12. Aly
13. Wyatt
14. Aly
15. Aly
16. Wyatt
17. Aly
18. Wyatt
19. Aly
20. Wyatt
21. Aly
22. Wyatt
23. Aly
24. Wyatt
25. Aly
Second Chance Doctor
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
Her Dirty Doctor
1. Lilly
2. Barrett
3. Lilly
4. Lilly
5. Barrett
6. Lilly
7. Barrett
8. Lilly
10. Lilly
11. Lilly
12. Barrett
13. Lilly
14. Barrett
15. Lilly
16. Barrett
17. Lilly
18. Lilly
19. Barrett
20. Lilly
21. Barrett
22. Lilly
23. Barrett
24. Lilly
25. Barrett
Epilogue
Good Girl’s Bad Boss
Good Girl’s Bad Boss
Untitled
1. Charles
2. Rebecca
3. Rebecca
4. Charles
5. Rebecca
6. Charles
7. Charles
8. Rebecca
9. Rebecca
10. Charles
11. Charles
12. Rebecca
13. Charles
14. Rebecca
15. Charles
16. Rebecca
17. Charles
18. Rebecca
19. Charles
20. Charles
Epilogue
My Playboy Fiance
Prologue
1. Chase
2. Haley
3. Chase
4. Haley
5. Chase
6. Haley
7. Chase
8. Haley
9. Chase
10. Haley
11. Chase
12. Haley
13. Chase
14. Haley
15. Chase
16. Haley
17. Chase
18. Haley
19. Chase
20. Haley
21. Chase
22. Haley
23. Chase
24. Haley
25. Chase
26. Haley
27. Chase
Epilogue
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Chapter One
Wyatt
Wyatt tried to push back from the table when the waitress refilled his mug with the hot black coffee, but his frame was too large for the vinyl booth. Instead he moved enough for the coffee pot not to graze his arm without making eye contact.
“You decide on something?” she asked. He could feel her beady eyes staring at the tattoos on his forearms.
“I’ll have the double breakfast platter.” He handed her the red plastic menu coated with layers of grease.
“The whole works?” She waited with her order pad ready.
He nodded, pulling his ball cap close around his temples.
“It will be right out.” She smiled as she turned from him.
It was dreary and cold outside. The rain came down in sheets, but inside the diner the air was warm and smelled like bacon. Wyatt brought the steaming cup to his lips. He hadn’t had a good cup of coffee in awhile. The best he got in Bhazni was a thermos and powdered coffee he mixed by shaking.
He watched the puddles fill with rain while his breakfast sizzled on the grill. This was the first town he had stopped in. He had ridden his bike all night, not sure exactly where he was heading but he kept driving anyway. He didn’t want to stop long enough to think. Thinking meant remembering.
“Here you go.” The waitress appeared, her arms loaded with heavy platters. She shuffled the plates in front of him. “Need anything else?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“Just holler if you change your mind.” She stepped away from the booth and made her way to a couple that had ducked in from the rainstorm.
He had meant to tell her thank you, but he cut into the eggs and sausage, forgetting for a minute that he was back on US soil. He was back where people exchanged pleasantries and small talk. It would take some getting used to again.
All of it would take getting used to. For the first time in three years he didn’t have to listen for the sound of incoming mortar, or the cries for help. He didn’t have to watch where he stepped for trip wires or land mines. He could sleep without the fear of his throat being slashed.
He stopped eating and looked out of the window again. He knew he was supposed to do all those things, but he didn’t know where to begin. Every time he sat still he felt lost. It felt better to keep moving.
He stood, pulling a stack of bills from his wallet and threw the cash on the table next to the uneaten platters.
“Wait, do you want a to-go box?” his waitress called, but Wyatt was already out of the door.
He threw his leg over his bike, kicked back the kickstand, and revved the engine. He swapped his ball cap out for his helmet, clasping the shield in place over his face. The only thing he could do now was ride. He steered onto the road, leaving the warm diner behind him.
Chapter Two
Aly
Aly flipped another page in the magazine. Why did all wedding dresses look the same. Mermaid skirts and white lace everywhere. She huffed. Did every bride demand tulle? Where was the dress that was meant for her curves?
“Excuse me. We don’t have enough towels.”
Aly brushed her auburn bangs out of the way to see an angry man flattening his palm on the counter.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hatley.” She folded the wedding magazine and shoved it under the desk next to the four others she had brought with her. “You’re in 310, right?”
“That’s right,” the older man grunted. “We are going to be out for the afternoon. Not back until dinner time. Maid service can drop them off now.”
“Certainly.” Aly scribbled the reminder on a pad of paper. “Enjoy your afternoon. Do you need any recommendations?”
The man didn’t bother to respond as he impatiently shuffled his wife out of the inn. Aly waited until they were in their car before grabbing an armful of towels and the key to the suite. She wasn’t about to bother the two housekeepers o
n staff. Jenny and Sara had enough to handle.
Not only did they keep the rooms in order, they worked maintenance, answered the phones, and filled in for Aly when she wasn’t at the desk. It was part of the charm of running a small-town inn. The staff had to fill many roles.
Aly knocked on the door, then used the key to enter. She placed the extra towels on the bathroom counter. Plush and perfect with the inn’s monogram right side up. She glanced up, noticing the large metal towel rack was already full. She sighed and rolled her eyes. What was wrong with people?
She closed the door to the suite behind her and started to head to the lobby.
“There you are!”
Aly jumped. “Dad, you scared me half to death. What’s wrong?” She spun around to face her father.
Aly’s father wasn’t tall. They almost stood eye to eye. He had dark hair that was silver around the ears, and a small nose like hers. It was the only feature they shared. Everyone always told her how much she looked like her mother. A compliment she always relished.
“Nothing is wrong. We just need to discuss a few things. Are you headed downstairs?”
She nodded and pointed at the room door. “I had to drop off extra towels.” She tapped the elevator button.
They stepped inside. “Looks like I have to go to Seattle after all.”
“Why?” She watched the floors pass them as the small carriage descended to the lowest level of the inn.
“I can’t get the part for the furnace here. There is a dealer in Seattle. The delivery fee is as much as the part. It’s worth it to make the drive.”
“Oh.” The lattice doors creaked open and they emerged into the cozy lobby.
The inn had been in Aly’s family for two generations. She made the third. One day her father would hand it over to her and Mitchell. Although, she still hadn’t convinced Mitchell that it was something he could do part-time once they were married. She knew with time he would love it as much as she did.
“I was thinking about leaving this afternoon, maybe staying in the city for a day or two. I wanted to check with you first.”
She walked behind the reception desk as she listened to her father’s travel plans. “What do you need me to do, Dad?”
“Nothing you aren’t already.” He smiled. “Any problems if I go?”
“No. I think I’ve got everything covered. And Mitchell is here if I need anything.”
Her father’s handsome face deepened into a frown. “You sure about that?”
“Dad, he’s just busy. Of course he would help if I needed him here. He loves the inn too.”
“Hmm.” He jingled the change in his pocket, hesitating by the desk.
She knew when something was on his mind. She didn’t want to get into another argument about Mitchell. It was becoming a habit between them. She would try to defend Mitchell’s constant absence, knowing she didn’t have a good reason to give her father for why he was never around.
“Aly?”
She held her breath. Here it was—another lecture on how she deserved true love and romance in her life. The kind her parents had found together.
“Dad, we’ve talked about it. I don’t want to—”
“Aly, I’ve met someone.”
“What?” She realized her mouth was gaping open and had to close her jaw.
“She’s in Seattle.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know how to respond to his sudden confession.
Her father tried to brush the silver edges of hair behind his ears. He was overdue for a haircut. “We met online on Silver Hearts.”
“Oh.” She tried to steady her rapid pulse. Of course her father was lonely. Of course he would want to connect with someone. He had been doing this alone for ten years.
Ever since her mother had died he had taken on dual parenting roles. He had become her cheerleader, mentor, and now business partner.
He added, “And that’s the real reason for the trip.” He smiled. “I do need the furnace part before winter hits, but it seemed like we were both ready to finally meet in person. I’m taking her to dinner tonight.”
Aly tried not to think ten steps ahead. Tried not to think how much life would change if her father married again. It had been the two of them for ten years. This was only a first date—not a marriage proposal.
“I hope you have a good time. What’s her name?”
“Jean.”
“Maybe I’ll get to meet her soon.”
He held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don’t put the cart before the horse. It’s just dinner.”
Aly laughed. He might be her dad, but he was still a guy. A guy not ready to be committed past a dinner date. That was fine with her.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t worry about anything here. Stay in Seattle as long as you want. You need a break. I know you do.” She hoped he could read between the words.
He cracked a smile. “If I didn’t know better, I would think this was like that time in high school when you tried to get me to stay in the city for the weekend so you could throw that big party.”
Aly laughed at the memory. “I’m not throwing a party. I just know how much you need a break. Even if it is for a radiator part and dinner.”
“I’ll stop by before I leave.” He walked to the winding staircase in the foyer and disappeared up the steps.
Aly watched him go then settled back on her chair and pulled out the wedding magazine again. “Where was I?”
Chapter Three
Wyatt
It started as a strange sputter sound, but Wyatt could smell the smoke before he saw it. He slowed the bike and looked up. The green sign he had passed said the next town was only five miles ahead. If he could make it there, he could take the bike to a garage and investigate the problem.
He clutched the handles, urging the bike forward. He rolled into town, blowing smoke from the exhaust pipe.
“What the hell?” he muttered. This was the last thing he needed.
The bike had started jerking and seizing right as he entered the city limits. Wyatt looked around with a scowl on his face. There wasn’t much here. He eased the bike into a gas station, more than a little relieved that there was a rusted sign painted over one of the doors that said Mechanic.
He hopped off the side and walked the bike to the back of the store. There was a garage wide enough for two cars. He noticed a pile of tires stacked in the corner and an open toolbox.
“Hello?” he called.
“Hold on, hold on.” He heard a muffled voice under the car in the first bay.
Wyatt waited while a man in dark denim overalls rolled out from under the car. “Can I help you?” His nametag read Glen.
“Yeah. Do you service bikes?” He nodded toward where he had parked the black motorcycle.
“That all depends.” The man spit from the side of his mouth. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It started smoking and making a put-put sound. I was wondering if I could take a look at it here.”
The man scratched the back of his head, sending his shock of white hair straight up toward the ceiling. “I’ll look at it for you.”
Wyatt shook his head. “I can do it. I don’t have any tools with me. I’ll compensate you for the space and letting me use yours.”
The man rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t rent out my equipment. If you want me to take a look at the bike, I will.”
Wyatt felt a familiar tightening in his chest. He didn’t like to be told no. And he didn’t like being told what to do. He hadn’t had the bike long, but he already felt protective of it.
“Well, what it’ll be, son?”
“Sure. Why the hell not?” He handed the mechanic the keys after hesitating only a second.
“What branch of service are you in?” the older man asked.
Wyatt squinted at the man. Glen pointed to his neck. “I see your tags there. I used to be a Navy man.
Wyatt felt his shoulders relax. “Army.
”
“On leave?”
The mechanic sure was nosey. “No. No, I’m not. You could say I’m retired.”
Glen seemed surprised. “You look mighty young for retirement.”
He didn’t like discussing his career, or why suddenly he was no longer in Special Forces. “I guess so,” he grunted. “When do you think you can have it ready?”