Dare To Love: Dare To Desire Part 22

Dare to Surrender Excerpt

Isabelle: Out of the Frying Pan

I was arrested a mile outside of Manhattan. Grand theft auto, the cop said. Bulls.h.i.+t, I replied. The baby Benz belonged to me.

Still, he cuffed me and hauled me to the nearest police station. He said his name was Officer Dare and he was a dark haired man, tall, taller than Lance, who prided himself on his height, and broader from what I could tell beneath his uniform. His intense expression never wavered. All seriousness, all the time, but I sensed he'd be handsome if he smiled. So far, he hadn't.

Once inside the typical looking police station not that I'd seen the inside of one before but what I'd thought one would look like from Law and Order he sat me beside his wooden desk, and cuffed me to the desk!

I ought to be scared but some stupid part of me had already decided this new part of my life was some grand adventure. At least it was until Officer Dare asked me to empty my pockets and divested me of my last $500 dollars, cash I'd taken from the extra stash I kept in my nightstand.

He thumbed through the bulging stack of twenties in never ending silence.

The money represented my lifeline. "I'll need to eat when I get out of here," I told my jailer.

He didn't look up. "You'll get it back."

"All of it?" I asked, as if I seriously believed a member of the police force would take a down on their luck woman's chance at food.

He set his jaw in annoyance. "We log it and count it. In front of you. I was just about to do that ... Ma'am."

For some inane reason, I burst out laughing. I'd gone from living in denial to homeless and arrested in a ridiculously short time. This whole turn in my life really was absurd.

I rubbed my free hand up and down over one arm. "Don't I get one phone call?"

He nodded and reached for the telephone on the desk.

I frowned, suddenly realizing I had no one to call. Lance was out of the question and our friends were really his friends. As for my parents, they didn't remember my birthday, so something told me a late night call to pick up their daughter from jail would not be their number one priority.

"Never mind," I said softly.

The officer stared at me, confused. "Now you don't want to use the phone?"

"No thank you." Because I was totally, utterly alone.

Nausea rose like bile in my throat and I dug my nails into my palms. When I forced myself to breath deeply, the familiar burning in my chest returned and I realized I'd walked away without the one thing I never left home without and it wasn't my license.

"Any chance you've got some Tums?" I asked.

He ground his teeth together and I swear I heard his molars sc.r.a.ping. "Okay, yeah. I'll get right on that," he muttered and strode off.

"I'll just wait here," I called back. I lifted my arm the short distance the cuffs would allow and groaned.

What felt like an endless stretch of time pa.s.sed during which I reviewed my options, of which, once again, I had none.

Now what, I wondered, utter and complete despair threatening for the first time. Eventually I swallowed back the lump in my throat and forced myself to make the best of the situation.

I kicked my feet against the linoleum floor. Leaned back in the chair and studied the cracked ceiling. Hummed along to the tune crackling on the radio in the background. And yeah, I tried not to cry.

"You know, I thought it would take me longer to get you in cuffs." A familiar masculine voice that oozed pure sin sounded beside me.

It couldn't be, I thought, but from the tingling in my body, I already knew it was. "Gabriel Dare, what brings you into this part of Mayberry?"

He chuckled, a deeply erotic sound that matched his mention of the handcuffs, but he didn't answer my question.

Left with no choice, I tipped my head and looked into his self-possessed, dark blue, eyes. Eyes too similar to my cop and suddenly the last name registered. In an unfamiliar place and time, my mind on my arrest and nothing more, I hadn't made the connection before.

I knew Gabriel Dare from the country club Lance belonged to but despite the upper crust connection, there was nothing similar about the two men. Where Lance was sandy haired and a touch Waspish in looks, Gabe, as his friends called him, possessed thick, dark sable hair and roguish good looks.

Gabe's very posture and demeanor set him apart from any other man I'd met. His white teeth, tanned skin, and chiseled features were put together in a way that made him extraordinarily handsome. That he owned the s.p.a.ce and air around him merely added to his appeal. An appeal that had never been lost on me, not even now, shackled as I was to a desk in a police station.

His stare never wavered, those navy eyes locked on me and if I hadn't been sitting, I'd be in a puddle at his feet.

"You look good cuffed," he said in a deliciously low voice.

Immediate thoughts of me bound and at his mercy a.s.saulted me. My body, which hadn't been wors.h.i.+ped well in far too long, if ever, had been taken over by the notion of Gabe, his strong touch playing me with an expert hand.

I squeezed my thighs together, but instead of easing, the ache only grew. Heat rushed through me at a rapid pace, my b.r.e.a.s.t.s heavy, my s.e.x pulsing in a dull throbbing that begged to be filled. I blinked hard in an impossible attempt to center myself.

He grinned, as if he'd heard every naughty thought in my head.

It had always been this way between us. Any time I ran into him at the club, the attraction had been electric and when we found ourselves alone, the flirting outrageous.

One night Gabe caught me exiting the Ladies' Room. Lance came upon us then and once home, he'd accused me of desiring Gabe. I'd denied it, of course.

I'd lied.

Lance knew it and after catching us talking privately at more than one event, he'd kept a firm lock on my arm. And because I desperately wanted the life I'd chosen to make sense, I'd allowed the possession.

Besides, Gabe always had an elegant woman on his arm, a different one each time. He could have any beautiful female he desired. Why would he choose me? Even Lance, who I'd been with for what felt like a lifetime, liked owners.h.i.+p, not me. And let's face it, my parents hadn't wanted me either. So believing in myself wasn't my strong suit.

"So. What are you in for?" Gabe settled in his brother's chair, propping an elbow on the cluttered desk so he could lean closer. "Prost.i.tution?"

"Excuse me?" I choked out. "You know I'm not a hooker!" I said offended, the whispers I'd heard when Lance and I first got together, rus.h.i.+ng back.

Gold digger and mistress were among the chosen words, never mind that Lance's single-minded pursuit had broken down every one of my defenses.

Gabe chuckled, a.s.suring me he'd been joking. "Seriously, you dress down as well as you dress up." His gaze raked over me, hot approval in the inky depths, appreciating me in a way Lance never had.

My insides trembled at the overwhelming effect this man had over me. "Where's the cop with my money?" I asked, glancing around.

"Worried about your stash?" Gabe drummed his fingers on the desk. "Are you sure you're not a hooker?" he mused.

I didn't want to grin but I did. "Why are you so desperate to think I am? Are you a pimp or something?"

He burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the walls of the quiet station. "Not quite," he said, obviously amused.

The tread of his brother's heavy footsteps announced his return.

Gabe looked at the other man with a disappointed expression. "Bro, didn't anyone tell you you're supposed to handcuff a lady to the headboard, not a desk?" He folded his arms across his broad chest. "It's no wonder you can't get any action."

I ducked my head, trying not to laugh ...

Dare to Surrender Isabelle & Gabe's story available July 15, 2014

About the Author.

N.Y. Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Carly Phillips has written over 40 s.e.xy contemporary romance novels. After a successful 15 year career with various New York publis.h.i.+ng houses, Carly made the leap to Indie author, with the goal of giving her readers more books at a faster pace at a better price. Carly lives in Purchase, NY with her family, two nearly adult daughters and two crazy dogs who star on her Facebook Fan Page and website. She's a writer, a knitter of sorts, a wife, and a mom. In addition, she's a Twitter and Internet junkie and is always around to interact with her readers.

Please turn the page for Carly's Booklist.

CARLY'S BOOKLIST by Series.

Below are links to my series on my website where you will find buy links for each novel!

Click here for a complete list of Carly's books on Amazon.

Dare to Love Series.

Dare to Love.

Dare to Desire Dare to Surrender.

Serendipity Series.

Serendipity.

Destiny Karma.

Serendipity's Finest Series.

Perfect Fit.

Perfect Fling.

Perfect Together.

Serendipity Novellas.

Kismet.

Fated Hot Summer Nights (Perfect Stranger).

Bachelor Blog Series

Kiss Me If You Can Love Me If You Dare

Lucky Series