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The Pact
A Mischief Erotica Collection
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
This collection is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
Mischief
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
The News Building
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London SE1 9GF
An eBook Original 2016
1
Girl of a Thousand Positions © Rose de Fer
Mirror Mirror © Ashley Hind
Five Card Stud © Heather Towne
I Dare You © Lily Harlem
Motivation © Justine Elyot
Living for May Day © Kathleen Tudor
The Exception © Giselle Renarde
Into the Blue © Willow Sears
The authors assert the moral right to be identified as the authors of this work.
Picture credit: Shutterstock
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EBook Edition © 2016 ISBN: 9780008190194
Version: 2016-03-23
Table of Contents
Rose de Fer
‘I want you to promise me two things.’
Alice finished her tea and set the cup down. ‘Anything, Lili. You know you don’t even need to ask.’
The old lady smiled, her wrinkled face not diminishing the beauty she had clearly once possessed. There was still something of a youthful sparkle in her eyes. Alice often found it hard to believe that her great-grandmother was nearly a century old. She looked twenty years younger at least.
‘First thing,’ Lili said. ‘You must promise me that you’ll make the most of your inheritance.’
Alice winced. ‘Oh Lili, I don’t like to think about that. I don’t want to imagine you not being here and I don’t care if you leave me anything at all.’
Lili held up one graceful, pale hand and continued as though she hadn’t been interrupted. ‘You must use it as it was intended to be used. Promise me.’
‘Very well, I promise.’
‘And the second thing. I want the world to remember me as I was. Don’t let me be forgotten.’
Alice wilted with relief. ‘Please! I bore everyone rigid with stories about you and your days in Hollywood. I post pictures and clips of your old movies on Facebook and Twitter all the time. There’s no way you’ll ever be forgotten.’
Lili was smiling, a funny, cryptic little smile. ‘That’s good,’ she said. For a moment it seemed like she wanted to add something else, but then she just patted Alice’s hand. ‘I knew I could trust you. You’re a good girl. I know you’ll keep your word.’
There was something in the gravity of Lili’s tone that puzzled Alice. She narrowed her eyes. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’
Lili shook her head. ‘Nothing that won’t ultimately delight you,’ she said. ‘You may be surprised, but I know you’ll understand. Now, how about another cup of tea?’
Alice was desperately curious to know what the big secret was, but it was clear that was to be the last word on the subject. She knew any further questions would only earn her a knowing smile, but no more information. Not that it mattered; she’d made a promise and she would keep it.
Whatever it was.
‘Well, I guess that’s all of it,’ Alice said, looking around at the scattering of crates and boxes. All afternoon she’d helped the executor, a dark-eyed, dark-haired man named Jake Harmon, sort through her great-grandmother’s belongings, first finding and then boxing up the things Lili had wanted to go to charities, and the things going to distant relatives. The house itself had been bequeathed to Alice.
‘OK,’ Jake said, his voice tinged with sadness. ‘I’ll tell the movers they can take it away tomorrow.’
Alice nodded and wandered back into the hallway, where a procession of glamorous photographs of Lili hung. Black and white stills of her at the height of her youth and beauty. Here she was in a line of dancing girls with finger waves and high-kicking legs. Here she was in the arms of some silent-movie hero. Here she was in her first talkie, as a black-veiled femme fatale, smiling sexily