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Pink Ice, an anthology featuring four novellas from Susanna Carr November 2006 Meet three beautiful sisters, a jewel thief, and the incredible pair of earrings that makes their hottest fantasies come true… The stunning pink diamond earrings are guaranteed to bring out the bombshell in every woman. So Sabrina, Lindsay, and Nicole pool their cash and decide to share. Little do they know that these perfect baubles are going to make their previously tranquil lives utterly X-rated… |
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Once Sabrina Graham puts on those gems, her inner sexpot emerges. Suddenly she's getting hot and heavy with the gorgeous bodyguard she hires in "Pink Champagne." How will she make the sparkle last forever?
"We are at Lia Dash's auction!" Nicole's voice trembled with excitement as she squirmed in the gilt-edge chair, taking in everything at the exclusive auction house. "Think about it. We are inches away from the very things she owned!" "Nicole, keep your hands to yourself and don't make a scene," Lindsay said in a low tone without moving her mouth. "That's all I ask." "Don't make a scene," Nicole mimicked. "Oh, please. There aren't that many people here to care." Sabrina glanced up from the catalog and looked around. What her younger sister said was true. She had expected standing-room only for the celebrity auction. After all, Lia Dash had been the epitome of the eighties. She gave rock music a glamorous edge, but her rebellious nature could have taught some MTV darlings a lesson or two. "That's because of the weather," Lindsay decided, flipping back her hair, which was still wet from the rain. "We nearly got blown away waiting for the doors to open." Sabrina figured her older sister was right. The storm and wind had knocked out power and phone lines in parts of Seattle. People would probably show up later. Nicole made a face. "What a bunch of wimps. Nothing could have kept me away." She splayed her hands out in the air. "Nothing!" Lindsay reached over Sabrina and tapped Nicole's leg with the rolled-up auction catalog. "Behave." When Nicole started to roll up her catalog, Sabrina reached out and grabbed both sisters' wrists. "You guys, please." She regretted inviting her sisters to the event. She thought they would be thrilled, not to mention act like the adults they were, since this auction celebrated the life of their preteen idol. Lia Dash was more than a fashion designer. She was a legend. An icon. She had lived their dream life. "Lot number Seven," the auctioneer said as an assistant brought out an item. "The mask Lia wore to the launch party of her perfume brand, Masquerade." Sabrina let go of her sisters and sighed when she saw the masterpiece of rose silk and sequins. She gazed open-mouthed at the accompanying picture that appeared on the overhead screen. Lia's famous features were partially hidden, but the mask couldn't dilute her charisma. The woman knew how to party. No, it was more than that, Sabrina decided as the auctioneer's voice faded into a low buzz. Lia Dash knew how to be the life of the party. Sabrina wished she had the quality. She winced at the pang of yearning deep in her belly. What was she doing? She could wish all she wanted, but after twenty-six years of coasting through life unnoticed, it wasn't going to happen. People never remembered her name, let alone that they had met before. Rather than being the belle of the ball, Sabrina was usually roped into helping in the kitchen or taking care of inebriated guests. She never found the opportunity to be the center of attention. "Oh, the masquerade." Lindsay nudged Sabrina's elbow. "That's when Lia and a certain punk rocker got it on during the party. And then he made the song, "Lia's Masquerade"." "Rumors. Unsubstantiated rumors." Nicole ignored Lindsay's scoffs. "How could you believe the guy? I mean, seriously, what kind of man would make a music video based on a one-night stand?" "Sold!" The auctioneer banged his gavel. "Now, come on, be quiet," Sabrina pleaded. "I have to concentrate and get some of these dresses for the shop, okay?" The last thing she needed to do was give her boss a legitimate reason to fly into a rage. Not that the woman needed a reason… "Lot number Eight," the auctioneer continued. "A pair of pink diamond earrings." Nicole sat up straight in her chair. "No. Way." When she saw the picture on the screen, Sabrina clapped her hand over her mouth. She felt the sting of tears and blinked rapidly. If there was any one thing that represented Lia Dash, it was those earrings. "Are those …?" Lindsay asked. "Yes," Sabrina and Nicole said in unison. "We will start the bidding at fifty thousand dollars," the auctioneer said. His voice sounded slow and disjointed to Sabrina's ears. "Do I hear fifty thousand dollars?" Sabrina held up her sign. It was an instinctive move. She hadn't thought of bidding. She simply did it. The man pointed at her. "Fifty thousand dollars. Do I hear fifty-five thousand?" "Bree!" Lindsay pulled at Sabrina's arm. "What are you doing? You're here for dresses." "The jewelry is for me." Her heart pounded against her ribs. A sheen of sweat appeared at her hairline. She felt a little bit sick. It was as if she was on a roller coaster ride and praying to get to the end in one piece. "Fifty-five thousand. Do I hear sixty thousand?" Her sign went up in a flash. "Sabrina, stop it," Lindsay's fierce whisper sounded like a hiss. "This is crazy." "Sixty thousand dollars." The auctioneer nodded at her. "Do I hear sixty-five thousand?" "I have to have them." Her voice was surprisingly resolute. Those diamonds would change her life. They would make her life more like Lia's. That's what she wanted, no matter what the cost. "But you can't afford them," Lindsay reminded her. "Sixty-five thousand dollars. Do I hear seventy-thousand?" Her sister had a point. "Chip in and we'll share," she offered as she bid again. "I get them half of the year, you get them the other." "Hey!" Nicole protested. "What about me?" "Okay, we'll all share." She didn't like the idea of having less time with the diamonds, but the price was already way out of her league. "Eighty thousand dollars. Do I hear eighty-thousand dollars?" Sabrina motioned to the auctioneer. "No," Lindsay said. "I refuse to share anything with Nicole. Have we forgotten the last time we shared something? The car? The one Nicole totaled?" Nicole leaned over Sabrina. "I was in high school at the time, it wasn't my fault, and this is different." "Ninety-thousand dollars? Do I hear ninety thousand?" "Different as in more expensive." Lindsay grabbed Sabrina's outreached arm and held it down. "Would you stop?" Sabrina turned to her sister and looked her straight in the eye. "Lindsay, if you don't want the earrings, that's fine. Nicole and I will share." Sabrina heard the raised price and she quickly made her bid. "What makes you think Nicole can afford it?" "Do I hear one hundred and five thousand dollars? One hundred and five thousand?" She didn't answer. Neither she nor Nicole could afford it, but she couldn't risk losing the earrings. "Are you in or out?" Lindsay grimaced. "I'm…" "Going… going…" Lindsay's shoulders sagged with defeat. "In." Sabrina's heart jump at the bang of the gavel. "Sold!" the auctioneer announced. "For one hundred thousand dollars." One hundred thousand dollars? Sabrina froze. That meant… "Oh. My. God." Nicole turned to face her sisters. "We got the diamonds!"
On vacation in Hawaii, Lindsay sheds her good-girl image and catches the eye of a handsome venture capitalist in "Touch of Pink." But when the diamonds wind up in his possession, she'll join whatever sensual game he’s playing to get them back. Will she ever return to her prudent ways?
Lindsay raised her fist and hesitated at the last minute. She smoothed her slicked-back chignon with shaky fingers as she stared at Dominic's hotel door. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered aloud. But she committed herself. She had already left Dominic a brief, terse message saying she would be at his hotel room at seven. There was no going back, she realized as she tapped her knuckles on the door. He knew that she had agreed to the deal. It was up to her to follow through. She stood there for an eternity, clenching her purse with stiff fingers. The metallic sound of the latch irritated her already frayed nerves. She was amazed that she was still standing by the time Dominic opened the door. The first thing Lindsay noticed was that he was barefoot. Her gaze slid up his dark trousers to his unbuttoned white dress shirt. She couldn't quite manage to look him in the eye, so she kept her attention level to his darkly tanned chest. His hard, smooth chest… Maybe she should look somewhere else. "Lindsay." He moved to the side to let her in. "I thought you wouldn't show up." She cleared her throat. "Well, you were wrong." She stepped inside the room. It looked exactly like hers, but it seemed colder. She shivered. Maybe she shouldn't have worn the black dress. "You look beautiful," he said standing by her shoulder. "May I take your purse?" "Sure." She unclenched her fingers from the leather and passed it to him. She folded her arms across her chest to ward off the cold and stared at the drawn curtains on the other side of the room. "Is the color of your dress supposed to symbolize something?" His voice was right behind her. Her lips twitched with a small smile. "No." She chose the dress because it was neither formal nor casual. She had no idea what a one-night sex slave wore. Dominic stood beside her, gently cupping her elbow. "Would you like a drink?" Lindsay glanced out the corner of her eye. Dominic was acting like a … a gentleman. Very suspicious. She should be relieved. She'd had hazy visions of him jumping her the minute she arrived and tearing her clothes off before tossing her onto the bed. She wasn't sure if the courtly behavior was any less dangerous. "Lindsay?" "Hmm?" Oh, right. He asked her about a drink. "Yes, thank you. Whatever you're having." Her throat was dry and tight, but she couldn't think about choking back a drink. The only reason she agreed was to keep him occupied and move his attention elsewhere. If she had a chance to find the earring in his room, now was the time. Walking slowly through the sitting area, Lindsay glided her hand along the back of the chair before reaching the small desk. She opened the drawer with feigned nonchalance, but it didn't slide easily. She winced when the wood squeaked. How does one rifle through papers without being heard? Lindsay shoved the drawer closed. The desk was too obvious. Too easy. Dominic probably hid the earring in the closet or the bathroom. Most likely under the bed. Her stomach flipped. The bed. She had tried her best not to look in that direction. And maybe Dominic had predicted that, making the bed the best hiding place. She slowly turned and faced the bed. See, not so bad. It looked like any normal queen-sized bed. Same mocha-colored bedspread as hers. Lots of big pillows and— Lindsay blinked and looked again. Her lungs seemed to shrivel as her last breath escaped from her throat. There really were thin black restraints attached to the center of the bed and dangling to the floor. "What are those?" She couldn't take her eyes off them. "Restraints you can connect under the mattress," Dominic said as he approached her. "The bed doesn't have a headboard, so I went out and bought these." Her heart pounded against her ribs. "You want to be tied down?" she asked hopefully as she accepted the glass of red wine. "No," he replied with a slanted smile. "They're for you." Her finger pressed tight against the glass stem. "I—you—" "I get you for one night – anyway I want."
In "Pink Positive," all Nicole wants is to spice up her life. Then in walks irresistible Alex Rafferty with a secret that could shatter her illusion about diamonds—and romance—lasting forever.
"Alex Rafferty is dropping by today." Nicole's feet slipped off the coffee table and hit the floor with a thud. "What? Why didn't anyone tell me? I'm working on that collection!" "You have to check your e-mails more often." She stood up and marched over to Andrea. "He's supposed to show up next week." "Tell him that." Nicole clenched the newspaper in her hand. "I'm not ready!" "Yeah." Andrea gave Nicole's clothes the once-over and tsked. "Don't you wish you hadn't worn that outfit today?" "That's because I let my sister borrow all of my new clothes." She should have known that impetuous generosity would turn around and slap her upside the head. "Why'd you do that?" "It was an emergency." Nicole twisted the newspaper into a rope. "She doesn't have anything that shows cleavage." "And now you don't," Andrea pointed out. Nicole looked at her reflection in the coffee service and combed her shoulder-length hair with her fingers. "Oh, not good. Not good at all." The chunky green sweater dwarfed her. Not one bump showed where her breasts or hips were located. The A-line khaki skirt did nothing for her legs, and the flat shoes were comfortable but dowdy. "Of course he would show up on laundry day," Nicole muttered as she stretched the sweater down her hips. It only made her look worse. "What am I going to do?" "It's not that bad." Andrea failed at sounding convincing. "No, it is. Fate is wrecking my plans." She stomped her foot in frustration. "All I wanted to do was make him forget his first impression of me." "What was that?" "At the donors' party last year. I borrowed one of Sabrina's cocktail dresses." She cringed in memory. She and her sisters had always been the same size. When had that changed? "And I accidentally flashed him." "Oh, I remember that." Andrea leaned against the refrigerator. "Don't worry, Nicole. It doesn't count as flashing if you were wearing a bra." "Then the next time he showed up I had a cold and looked horrible." She was surprised that her hacking up a lung and runny nose didn't make Alex run for cover. Then again, she didn't remember much of what happened that day thanks to her cough medicine. For all she knew, she had blabbed out all of the museum's secrets. "Everyone looks horrible when they're sick," Andrea decided. "No big." "What about that time I was flirting with him and found out my skirt was caught in my pantyhose?" Andrea shrugged one shoulder. "So he knows you wear sexy underwear. I would see that as a plus." "And do you know that all the times I've seen him, I wasn't wearing the earrings?" "Oh, here we go again." She pushed off the refrigerator and walked to the door. Nicole followed her into the hallway. "I'm serious, Andrea. I need those earrings." It was just her luck that Lindsay had lost them. "Guys don't notice earrings," her coworker said with great authority. "If they do, then they're gay." Nicole scoffed at that sweeping statement. "No they aren't." Andrea grabbed the banister as she headed down the winding spiral staircase. "How many guys have you dated who've said something about your earrings?" She thought about it. "One. And he's the reason I don't wear dangling earrings anymore." "Really? What did he say?" "Something along the lines of 'Get it off! Get it off!'" Nicole's voice bounced off the white marble walls. Andrea glanced over at her, giving her a strange look. "My earring got caught in his pubic hair when I gave him a blow j—" She crashed into a couple walking up the steps. "Sorry, I didn't…" Nicole forgot what she was saying as she saw Alex and the museum director standing before her. Amusement gleamed in his green eyes as the dull red crept up her neck and face. It was creeping elsewhere, too, not that anyone could tell thanks to her voluminous sweater and skirt. "Nicole." The museum director's eyes were wide with horror, but her voice was edged with frost. "You remember Alex Rafferty? He's supervising the traveling collection of royal jewels?" "Yes, of course. Hello, Alex." She reluctantly offered her hand, when she really wanted to slink away just like Andrea was doing. "It's good to see you again, Nicole." His hand enveloped hers. She flinched when she felt the jolt of his touch, but she didn't pull away. She pressed her lips together and waited for him to make some sort of comment. None came. Of course not, Nicole realized with relief. Alex Rafferty was a true gentleman. A sexy, sophisticated man who invaded her dreams and made her wake up hot and sweaty, but he was still a gentleman. "Since you are the curator for the exhibit" – the director sounded like she was already regretting that decision – "would you please show Mr. Rafferty the publicity plans we've made." "Of course." Nicole's smile was tight and hurting her cheeks. She didn't know how much longer she could keep it up. "Do I need to come with you?" Nicole's jaw stiffened. The last thing she needed was for her boss to act as her chaperone. "Not at all. I can handle this." The director gave one final, not-too-sure-she-should-leave look before she turned in the other direction and walked down the steps. Why did these things happen to her? Because she didn't have the earrings, that's why! Her sister had better find that other diamond fast. She looked back at Alex, her eyes level with his since she was on the top step. She could get lost in those green eyes. Alex stepped to the side and gestured for her to walk past him. "After you." "Thanks." Keep it professional, girl. If you throw yourself at him, you're going to fall onto the ground with a big splat. And with that reminder, Nicole discreetly smoothed her hands along her skirt, making sure it wasn't caught in any pantyhose, before she continued walking down the stairs.
"Come on, Tony," she whispered fiercely. "Stop playing around." "I'm not." The closet was dark except for a strip of light at the bottom of the door. He couldn't see a thing. It was cramped, too. His back pressed against the door and he stood toe to toe with Mercer. As far as he could tell, she was being swallowed up by the coats. "If this is about Reggie" – her voice sounded muffled – "then you are wasting your time. That is not up for discussion. Not now. Not ever." "It's not about him. I'm making sure you don't steal the diamond earrings. Ow! What was that?" he asked as he rubbed his shoulder. It must be the serving tray she had been carrying. "So you're locking me in a closet? How lame. All I need to do is scream my head off." "Do you really want to draw attention to the fact that you were in a closet with a guy?" He reached out but got a handful of a coat. Tony pushed it down the clothes rod, the screech of metal against metal extra-loud in his ears. "How is that boss of yours going to feel about that?" Her gasp echoed around him. "You aren't saying anything to Ellis!" "Then be good and keep your mouth shut." His fingertips brushed against flat metal. That had to be the serving tray. He snatched it out of her grasp. "Move." She flattened her hands against his chest and pushed. "Get out of my way." "Nope." He ditched the tray on the floor. "I get claustrophobic," she announced. "No, you don't." But he was feeling the effects of her standing close. Her scent curled around him like smoke. "Yes, I do." He reached up and grabbed the clothes rod. Anything to keep his hands off of Mercer. "I remember the night of the Tolliver heist when you sat in—" "All right, all right," she interrupted. "I lied. I don’t get claustrophobic." "Knew it." "I'm afraid of the dark." Tony scoffed at the statement. "That didn't stop you in the Shaw case." "Did I say dark? I meant that I'm highly allergic to wool." She batted at the coat at her left, then at her right. "And fur. And—ooh..is that mink?" Tony rolled his eyes. "Mercer." "All right! I'm not allergic. What are you? A walking encyclopedia on me? Uh, not that I am admitting to any participation in those cases you mentioned." "Of course not." She exhaled sharply. The puff of breath played against his collar. That meant her lips were right—no, he wasn't going to think about it. Tony held tighter onto the metal rod. He tried to ignore how close she stood, or how her breast grazed his chest, or her leg bumping against his… "So now what?" she asked. "I just stand here?" "Yeah, pretty much." He froze when her hair brushed under his chin. The softness teased his "I don't think that's necessary." "Think again." He'll do whatever it takes to keep her out of trouble. "No, really, Tony. This time-out has allowed me to see the error of my ways." He wondered if she was saying that with a straight face. "Sure it has." "I'll be on my best behavior." Tony imagined her crossing her heart with one hand and crossing her fingers behind her back with the other. "Is that supposed to reassure me?" "You can let go of me now," she said sweetly against his ear. His fingers squeezed against the metal rod. He liked how she said that. A breathy mixture of innocence and naughtiness. But it wasn't going to change his mind. "No way." Tony felt her stiffen before she leaned back against the wall. Her frustration was almost tangible. "Then how about if you leave?" she asked. "That's not part of the plan." Tension vibrated from her. "You're staying here with me all night?" "Looks that way." And he'll keep his hands on the closet rod all night if it was the only way to keep them from roaming all over her body. "I have a job to do," Mercer reminded him. "You're not leaving." Her silence surprised him. She didn't utter a word for several beats before she finally said, "Fine." "Fine?" His instincts went on full alert. He didn't like that answer. Or the tone. She wasn't backing down; she was changing tactics. "Yeah, fine." Her vest rubbed against the wall as she found a comfortable spot. "We'll stay here. I could use a break." As the silence stretched, he listened intently for any telltale moves. Was she going to ambush him? His suspicions came in waves, one rolling over the other, growing bigger, stronger, before "It's getting hot in here. Don't you think so?" His skin felt flushed, and he was very aware of the drop of sweat rolling down the length of his spine, but it had nothing to do with the temperature. "No." "Really? I think it is." He heard something ripping. Or was it a rip? Tony squinted in the dark, unable to place the sound. "What are you doing?" "I'm getting naked." He reared his head back at those three little words. "No, you're not." His voice was hoarse. Something soft and heavy hit the ground. "Yes, I am." "I don't believe you." But his body did. His cock stirred. His skin tightened. "Open the door and see for yourself."
"Suit yourself," Mercer said. Something snapped. Or unsnapped? His fingers dug into the metal bar as he heard it again… and again.
From the tone of the article, it appeared that this set-up worked just fine with no confusion or fighting over the necklace. While reading, I thought if they were related, there would be major squabbling. Take it from someone who had to share a bathroom and a phone line with three sisters. And then I thought, what would it be like if I had to share something this special and this expensive with my sisters? What if the jewelry was a gateway to my fantasy life and just when I was enjoying it to its full potential, I had to give the trinket to the next sister. Could I give up my fantasy life so my sister could have hers? Just for the record, I'm not that altruistic… but it did give me a starting point for Pink Ice!
Where Would You Like to Go Next?
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Order
from 
The
idea for this novella collection
was inspired by an article I read
in People magazine. A group of women
chipped in together and bought an
expensive diamond necklace. Each
woman got the chance to wear the
necklace for a specified amount of
time, but there were rules. One rule
that stuck with me was something
about how they had to have sex while
wearing the necklace. 
>
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