Return To Passion. Carla BuchananЧитать онлайн книгу.
several novellas. Camille had pursued her writing dream at the encouragement of her high school English teacher after Camille had mistakenly turned in a few chapters of her work instead of an essay. The teacher had pulled her aside and given her an application for an internship in New York and had told Camille she had a real future in writing. It was all the encouragement she needed and had been the catalyst that had led her to New York, where she ended up pursuing her degree. Her life had changed that day.
Now she was no longer a teacher of tenth grade English at a private school and hadn’t been for some time. She’d come this far and had not had to reveal her identity to anyone and didn’t see herself doing so anytime soon. And by “this far” she meant a hefty contract for three of her books and even bigger ones for her next seven. It was truly a blessing to be able to do something she loved; she only wished that she could share the good news with her family and friends, but she knew that wasn’t possible. She’d be putting her father’s business and reputation in jeopardy. His clients, church members and friends might not understand that his daughter wrote what conservative people considered pornography.
Reese Elaine was the main reason she’d had to give up Remi. Krane Foods was considered a family-oriented business and her books were nothing of the sort. She couldn’t allow Remi to give up his future for her so she’d chosen for him.
Camille was energized not only by her agent’s message but also by that news she’d gotten over the phone a few minutes ago. She’d woken up feeling a little off, but after that conversation, she’d felt like singing. Her father’s doctor had said his tests had all come back normal and after his recovery he’d be in better health than he had been in years.
She hurried home from the grocery store to share the results with him, but his reaction to the good news was less than enthusiastic.
“’Bout time you got back.”
“Well, good to see you, too, Mr. Grumpy Pants. What has you in a bad mood?” Camille put a bag of food down on the coffee table and sat on the couch she remembered her and Remi making out on. The thought brought a smile to her face, but she wiped it away just as fast as it appeared.
“Not in a bad mood, just hungry. And it didn’t help that I had to smell that crap in the kitchen. I bet they’re doing something illegal with the packaging to get folks to buy the stuff. Some sort of subliminal scent or something, I bet! Like I said...illegal,” Reese Ryan ranted.
Camille had not noticed the smell before but when she did, she couldn’t help the bright smile that took over her face.
She’d recognize that smell anywhere. It was her favorite snack from Krane Gourmet Snack Foods and she’d eaten it ever since she could remember. She even made sure to buy up all the stock they had in her local corner market when they got it in. It was odd because no other market in the area—or in the city, that she’d noticed—sold the snacks except for this one store by her house. She’d always thought it was strange but she’d been grateful to have that one comfort from home.
She went into the kitchen and pulled up short.
“Oh. My. God.” Camille had no idea what had gotten into Remington Krane but she was in awe. It hadn’t been long since their encounter, but she figured that she wouldn’t hear from him again after her attempt to reject him. But hear from him she did, and in the sweetest way...literally.
There on the counter of the kitchen was a beautifully arranged basket containing at least twenty bags of her favorite snack. There was a bright yellow card attached to the front that said “Read Me” instead of her name.
She opened it and another small plastic card fell out. A gift card to a big chain office store with a four-figure amount attached, no doubt for supplies for her supposed teaching job. She cursed under her breath and then read the three handwritten sentences.
We start over tomorrow night at 7 p.m. with dinner. I’ll pick you up at home. Wear my favorite color...please.
Camille had no idea what she should do. She knew she wouldn’t be able to meet with him for dinner but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. She’d had a chance to sleep on it and realized that she really, really wanted to know what that kiss had been all about. She wanted to tell him all about her career. She wanted to tell him about her life and hear about his. She wanted...
Camille wanted him.
She wanted Remington Krane.
She wanted to experience the things she wrote in her books. She wanted to be seduced and touched and treated like the sensual woman she knew she could be. She no longer wanted to feel like a fraud to her fans because she was a virgin. She was a woman who was raised in this town and its values had been ingrained in her. Despite her career, she still believed in saving herself for the one man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
If her fans knew, they’d boycott her books and demand refunds. That was probably an exaggeration, but she didn’t want anyone to find out that each and every book was written about a fantasy she’d had about the very man who was now requesting her presence for dinner.
* * *
By now, his gift to Camille would have arrived and hopefully she’d have seen it. He knew it would be a hit regardless of whether they were at odds with one another or not. It was her favorite snack and would always be if he had anything to do with it. And he did have something to do with it since he’d found out where she lived after a conversation with Charleston and had personally sent the snacks to the nearest grocery store. He’d even contacted the owner personally to see if Camille frequented the store and when he found out that a woman matching her description had been coming in, he’d paid the man to carry the snack and point it out to her the next time she came in. She had no idea that Remi had done that and he’d do it again if she ever moved to a new place.
His behavior bordered on stalker since he knew where she lived and where she bought her groceries thanks to a little investigating.
He was allowing his thoughts to stray, taking his mind off of the land deal he should’ve been thinking about. His grandfather had called every day wanting to hear some information but Remi had dodged the man as usual. The land deal was under way but he wanted to handle it without his grandfather’s interference. He loved his grandfather, but in his old age he’d started to stray from some of the core values of the company. He’d been touched by the demons of power, ambition and success, and he’d begun to believe they made him better than others—better than good people like Reese Ryan and his lovely daughter.
Making sure the land acquisition went smoothly should’ve been the only thing on Remi’s mind but it wasn’t. A pair of shapely bronzed legs, attached to a petite little frame that he could see himself buried deep inside of, was all his mind kept going back to. The way her womanly body—more alluring now than before—had appeared to him the other night should’ve been a sin. The doe-eyed look on her face when she had opened that door was one that he wouldn’t mind seeing while she writhed underneath him.
Had she had sexual experiences over the years? Of course she had. She was a beautiful woman and had the smarts to back up the looks, so she’d have no trouble attracting men.
It tormented Remi to think about another man with his hands on what he’d always considered his. No matter the time and the distance, he’d always thought of Camille Ryan as his girl, though she’d left him.
Remington was startled from his thoughts when his phone rang. He answered it since his secretary didn’t come in on Saturday. Neither did he on most Saturdays, but he was trying to take his mind off Camille and the fact that she could be leaving soon.
“Remington Krane,” he said when he didn’t recognize the number that showed up on the caller ID. He had a feeling that it might be Camille and if she was calling, then he hoped it wasn’t to turn him down. He switched on the speaker so he’d have his hands free.
“Oh...hi, Remi. I got your gift and I thought I should call you and thank you.” She paused and he could tell she was nervous. “They are still my favorite snack... I—I want to say that, while I wish I could join