Zuri Day

Platinum Promises


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rel="nofollow" href="#u8c61c016-1df0-5041-9e71-7e2929a2c14c">Chapter 23

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25

       Chapter 26

       Chapter 27

       Chapter 28

       Chapter 29

       Chapter 30

       Chapter 31

       Chapter 32

       Chapter 33

       Chapter 34

       Chapter 35

       Chapter 36

       Chapter 37

       Chapter 38

      Chapter 1

      Practical, no-nonsense Dr. Faye Buckner lay in uncharted waters—literally and figuratively—feeling wanton, wicked and strangely...free. The water swirled around her body as her lover’s tongue traced circles against her heartbeat, causing flutters from her stomach to her heat. Ah, yes. The beautiful beaches of Haiti. But how did I get here with him?

      “Relax.” Her lover’s voice was as soothing as the water and as warm as a summer breeze.

      “I can’t.”

      “Yes, you can. I’ll help you.” He laid a trail of kisses down her neck, over her collarbone and on her shoulder, all the while brushing feathery fingers up and down her arm. Goosebumps appeared on the upper part of her body. A furnace of passion exploded within. He captured a nipple with his teeth, pulled it inside his mouth. Not wanting to appear rude or neglectful, he slid his hand to her other nipple, pebbling it between his thumb and forefinger before moving his hand down farther...to her navel, hip and inner thigh.

      A foreign feeling of losing control caused her to squeeze her legs together.

      Her lover raised up on one elbow as his finger slid up and down the crease caused by her tightly clenched thighs. She closed her eyes.

      “Don’t be shy,” he said with a chuckle. “Trust me.”

      He leaned over and placed a soft, reverent kiss just below her navel.

      Her breath came fast, and her heart beat faster.

      He eased back up to her breast. Feathery kisses rained down on her dewy, soft skin, a trail of tantalizing sensations across the fleshy plains of her softness, her boyishly lean frame a perfect canvas for his oral artistry. He reached the thighs, which were still pressed against each other. He lowered himself farther, kissing, rubbing and licking the line that served as the gateway to her desire.

      “Let go.”

      She moaned, shaking her head from side to side. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t! But why not? She had no answer to that question. Her mind was muddled, logic elusive. How can this be happening? But it was. She could feel it, could feel him, everywhere.

      “Don’t think, baby. Just feel. Give yourself to me.” His tongue stiffened, became more insistent even as he eased his hands underneath her booty, licking a wedge between her armor, causing her thighs to part of their own volition. The act was unexpected, the air against her love button a delicious friction. How is the wind blowing there? She dared open one eye and look downward. His bow-shaped lips were parted; it was he who fanned her flame. There, in the most intimate of places. Hot breath touched her feminine furnace as he spread her legs and then kissed her inner thighs. Before she could ponder the deliciousness of the way his skillful tongue felt against her sensitive skin, he moved on to an even more sensitive spot and kissed it. She gasped, taking in a mouthful of air, releasing a lifetime of inhibitions. Without waiting for instruction or permission, her hips began a circular dance, lifting up to meet his tongue. Again, her rational self tried to intervene, tried to argue that such gyrations were inappropriate, lewd, nasty.

      He licked her there. Between her lower lips. Once. Again. Deeper still. Reason fled, replaced by desire. She moaned, stroked his close-cropped hair as he stroked her.

      “That’s right. Relax and enjoy this.” He ran his lips over her nether ones, over and again, kissing her with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes and wetness in other places. She tossed and turned and tried to get away. He captured her thighs with his large hands, looked up at her with glazed eyes and a wicked smile. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “And neither am I.”

      In that moment, Faye’s heart burst—and her head fell against something hard like steel, cold like glass and...leathery. Leather? At the ocean?

      WTH?

      The cheerful, gray-haired driver glanced back at his passenger waking from an unexpected nap. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We’re almost there!”

      Chapter 2

      Faye looked around, dazed and confused. She eyed palm trees and grapevines and signs announcing concerts and spas and wine tastings. Slowly the dream faded. Reality crashed in. She wasn’t lying on a beach in Haiti. She was riding in the back of a town car on America’s West Coast, not at all surprised that she’d been lulled to sleep during the one hour drive from San Diego International Airport to her destination, Temecula, California, the area she’d only recently learned was Southern California’s wine country, even older than the more widely known Napa Valley. There had been little sleep in the past seventy-two hours, spent in what had been her home away from home for the past three years.

      The memory of that beloved country brought a pang to her heart. She missed Haiti already. Or was it the lover in her dream that she longed for, and the fact that he was not real that made her sad? She narrowed her eyes, tried to “see” the man who’d taken her places she’d never been in waking moments. But there was no recalling his face. Only that body, hard and strong. Only the way he made her temperature soar, causing her to feel embarrassed as the driver looked into the rearview mirror and offered a fatherly smile.

      “Looks like you’re in for a treat,” he said, turning onto a winding road bordered by Bird of Paradise bushes and fields of grapevines beyond them. “I wish the wife and I could afford to stay at a place like this.”

      “It does look beautiful,” Faye agreed. She was immediately struck with how diametrically opposite her current surroundings were compared with those she’d seen mere hours ago. Ian told me this place was like heaven. He was right. Dr. Ian Chappelow was a philanthropist, mentor and friend. He was the reason why she was no longer in Haiti, the reason why she would see her lifelong dream come true—opening the Hearts of Health and Healing Center, a free clinic for poor families—and the reason why she was getting ready to step into the lobby area of California’s award-winning Drake Wines Resort and Spa. Thinking of him reminded her that between the lengthy customs process and jet lag she’d forgotten to turn on her phone and “ring Haiti as soon as I arrive stateside,”