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  It Was Always You

  Copyright © 2015 by Tianna Xander

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-839-1

  Cover art by Fiona Jayde

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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  www.decadentpublishing.com

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  Dedication

  To dreamers everywhere

  It Was Always You

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  Tianna Xander

  Chapter One

  The loud jangle of the phone ripped Candy from one of the best dreams she’d ever had. She’d dreamt of him again, her favorite actor and fantasy lover rolled into one. After having them for so long, she couldn’t remember when they had started. She only knew they got hotter and hotter.

  Her heart raced every time she touched Jared Harwell in her little visions. Her breathing hitched, and her clit throbbed, aching with the need to come. He’d brought her so close to climax this time and then the damned phone had to ring. Tempted to throw the offending object out the second-story window, she rolled over and grabbed the receiver.

  “Hello.” Candy didn’t keep her irritation from her voice. She couldn’t. Every damned time, someone, or something, dragged her from the fantasy which could very well make her life complete.

  “At least you’re not dead,” her best friend and neighbor, Samantha James said.

  “What the heck are you talking about?” Pushing to a sitting position, Candy leaned against the headboard, closed her eyes, and wished she’d unplugged the phone the night before.

  “You’ve had a man pounding on your front door for the last ten minutes. Don’t you hear him?”

  She canted her head and listened. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “The poor guy gave up. He sat down in your rocker with a suitcase in his lap.” Samantha paused. “Do you have a tall, dark, and handsome brother I don’t know about?”

  “Uh, no.” Sam knew better than that. “The fact that I just received a sizeable inheritance from my grandmother’s estate should have told you something.”

  “Yeah, well, a girl can hope.” Sam sighed. “He sure is something to look at. And why is he carrying a suitcase?”

  “I have no idea.” Candy slid from her bed, donned an old, comfortable bathrobe then sat at her desk.

  She moved the mouse, and the computer screen lit up, showing her she had a new email from the 1Night Stand agency.

  Her stomach did a flip. She’d taken some of her inheritance money and paid to have the fantasy of a lifetime. She’d described Jared Harwell on her application and thought it possible that having a fling with someone who resembled him would get him out of her system. Pining after some movie star for the rest of her life couldn’t be healthy.

  “What are you doing, sitting at your desk?” Sam shouted. “Go answer your door.”

  “Why? Whoever the guy is, he’s at the wrong house. He’ll figure that out soon enough. And stop spying on me with that stinking telescope of yours.”

  Candy clicked on the subject line and opened her mail. It contained instructions, telling her to meet her date at a hotel in Ottawa during some kind of author/reader event called Romancing the Capital.

  April seventeenth! That’s tomorrow. I can’t possibly be in Ottawa tomorrow. Hell, it barely gave her time to make travel arrangements.

  “I don’t think he plans to go anywhere any time soon. He just leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs. I think he’s gonna wait you out.”

  Candy, always multitasking, read further. Apparently, she should expect a courier, who would hand deliver a plane ticket and the information about her date. The letter also informed her she had one shot at this. Her date could not and would not reschedule. One chance only.

  Sighing, she shifted the phone to her other ear. “I have to go, Sam. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” Setting the phone down, she pushed away from the desk, pulled her robe tighter, and headed for the stairs. She couldn’t screw this up. A friend at work had told her about Madame Eve, the mysterious Frenchwoman and owner of 1Night Stand, who seemed to know who to pair with whom.

  Like magic, Madame Eve nearly always managed to put two people together who got along famously. The rumors in Candy’s circle of friends were the woman had some sort of psychic ability, or she used magic—if one believed in such a thing.

  Why shouldn’t she believe? After having visualized her ideal lover for the last several months, she’d begun to wonder if the two of them had some sort of real psychic connection. She’d fantasized Jared had somehow been aware of what he did in his sleep, much as she had been. What if he’d also mastered the art of lucid dreaming not long after her nightly visits with him began? Every night she lived her fantasies—if only in her sleep.

  “They found someone who matches my description.” She danced toward the stairs, giddy.

  Seriously, what were the odds a man who resembled the one she wanted in her life would need the services of the 1Night Stand agency? She’d lay odds Jared Harwell never wanted for female companionship for even one day in his charmed, movie-star life. She had a difficult time imagining anyone matching his description would have a hard time finding dates.

  “But, tomorrow?” She bit her lip. It gave her almost no time to prepare. She hoped Madame Eve really had worked everything out.

  You have had the last six months to prepare, Candy. Suck it up, otherwise all of this will have been for nothing. Not to mention the fact she would lose her only chance at her fantasy.

  Pausing at the front door, she brushed her hair back, smoothed down the front of the oversized robe, and reached for the knob.

  A tall, forty-something Adonis with dark hair and sky-blue eyes stood on her front porch, just out of the early-morning spring sunlight. Sam had been right. He was gorgeous, even if he didn’
t look like her dream lover. Had Candy not already been in love with Jared Harwell, the guy before her could very well be someone she’d go for. In a heartbeat.

  The low-slung sports car parked at the curb didn’t mark him as a commercial courier. If she had to guess, she’d peg him as a successful businessman. Maybe the owner of 1Night Stand had her fingers in a little bit of everything and called in favors as she needed them.

  What do I know?

  “Yes?” She tried to catch her breath as he handed her an envelope and set a medium-sized suitcase at her feet.

  “Candy Williamson?” At her nod, he continued, “My name is Jamie. Your 1Night Stand date sent me to give this to you. It contains instructions, along with your plane ticket. I’ve been told you’re to open and read the first page in my presence. I’m to get affirmation that you understand the rules of the game before I leave.”

  “Game? I thought this was—”

  “Your fantasy come true?” He smiled. “It is, but it’s also a fantasy for your date. Apparently, things work both ways. These are the terms set forth by the gentleman in question.”

  With trembling fingers, she ripped open the envelope, and, following the instructions on the first line, read the rest of it aloud. “The courier should have arrived with a bag for you. Do not, under any circumstances, open the case before you reach Ottawa. If you prefer, the courier will remove it and have it sent to await you at the hotel. I understand if you do not wish to carry the bag with you since you do not know what it contains.”

  She glanced down at the bag and nodded. “Yeah. No offense, but I could be smuggling drugs across the border in that thing. I might have thought about it if I could open it, but since I can’t…. No, thanks.”

  She grinned. “But mostly, I want you to take it because I would open it before tomorrow night. My curiosity over what’s inside it would get the best of me.” Chuckling, she added, “I have absolutely no willpower. I know this about myself.”

  “Then I’ll be happy to take it with me.” Her early-morning visitor winked. “I think he expected you to turn the case down. Most people won’t carry a bag that’s not theirs onto a plane, and those who do are just asking for trouble. I suspect your date just wanted you to wonder what he’s got hidden inside it.” He tilted his head and stared at her for a moment. “Judging by your expression, the mission has been accomplished.” Hands behind his back, he nodded toward the letter. “Is there more?”

  “You know there is.” She glanced at the paper then back at him. “Why do I think you know exactly what this says?”

  “Because you’re an astute woman?” He raised a brow.

  “More like because I’m a suspicious one,” she laughed. A noise behind him caught her attention. She leaned to her right to look around the handsome man and waved at her nosy neighbor. “Oh hello, Mrs. Wendt.” Lowering her voice, Candy whispered, “Tomorrow, the entire neighborhood will know you were here. I hope you’re single because the rumors that lady can spread would make any girl jealous, even of me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has already taken photos of you and your car to post on the Internet.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, miss. And photos of me are already on the ’net.” He gestured to the page in her hand with a half-smile. “You might want to continue. I’m to report back to Mr. Right that you’ve read it.”

  “Is that his name—Mr. Right?” How funny that would be, if it were so.

  “No.” He shook his head with a laugh. “That is most certainly not his name. He wishes to remain anonymous until your night together. He also wants to be certain that you are well aware of his wishes.” The courier rested a hand on her shoulder. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I will tell you he is trustworthy, and Madame Eve would never set you up with someone who would harm you. The safety of her clients is always on her mind. She has handpicked every match since starting 1Night Stand and yours is no different.”

  Candy’s stomach lurched at his little speech. Glancing back at the paper in her hand, she began reading aloud, once more. “After your plane arrives, take the waiting car to the hotel then go to your room and relax. At precisely midnight, open the bag, dress in the clothing and wear the blindfold provided, and wait for me on the bed. Under no circumstances are you to remove the mask unless you fear for your safety or I say you may do so. Otherwise, removing it voids our agreement.”

  She thought about the instructions. “Wait a minute. The whole reason I wanted someone with his description is because I wanted to look at him, damn it.” Fisting her hands on her hips, she frowned, not giving a damn if she wrinkled the precious letter from Mr. Right. Why did he think he had the right to call all of the shots? Who had Madame Eve found to play the part of Jared Harwell in her little fantasy? Whoever Candy had gotten, he certainly seemed full of himself.

  “Those are his instructions.” The courier shrugged. “Maybe he just wants you to concentrate on who he is for a little while, instead of you imagining he’s the fellow you really want. I do know he does intend to let you see him before your time is over. I just can’t tell you when.”

  “You work for him, don’t you?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “Guilty.” He raised his hand and smiled again. “The only thing I am allowed to tell you is, if you follow his instructions, you won’t be sorry.” Bending, he picked up the case and turned to go. Halfway down her porch steps, he glanced back. “There is one more thing he didn’t tell me I couldn’t say.”

  Glowering, she asked, “What would that be?” The instructions had given her plenty to think about. She’d paid what she considered a lot of money for the date. Shouldn’t she be demanding a few things of her own?

  “Your date looks forward to your time together. More than you know.” Striding to his car, her visitor unceremoniously dumped the case in the back and slid into the driver’s seat. He put the car in gear, waved through the moon roof, and hit the gas, tires protesting the fast take-off with a loud screech.

  She stared after him, her bottom lip between her teeth. Looking down at the letter, she read it again and frowned then headed back inside. What should she do about Mr. Right and his strange demands? Should she trust Madame Eve and her matchmaking skills, or she call the whole thing off?

  Chapter Two

  “Did you deliver the letter as instructed?” Jared leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and stared up at his personal assistant, who leaned against the doorjamb. Jared had planned the date to the last detail and wanted everything perfect.

  “You know I did.” James pushed away from the door, shoved his keys in his pocket, and sat across from his best friend. “It’s a good thing she agreed to it. Meeting her in Ottawa fits into your busy schedule perfectly.”

  “Yes. Being up there for a few days at that romance thing gives both of us some downtime, too. It works out well. I can spend a time in the country unwinding before and after.”

  “You’ll probably need it after a day in a room full of oversexed women.”

  Jared stared at his best friend and raised a brow. “I seem to recall you used to like situations like that.”

  “That was before you got famous, and speaking of that, I don’t know why you don’t tell your date who you are right off the bat.” Jamie shrugged. “Any lass would be lucky to have you for the night, if you ask me.”

  Jared shook his head and sighed. He wished he’d known it would be more bother than it was worth before he’d set himself on this path. James never understood the problems he faced with his celebrity status. Not that it mattered a hell of a lot. He only had another five years at most before he had to quit. Otherwise, someone would notice he never aged.

  Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be able to return to a life of anonymity. A life where he could be certain a person stayed in his life because they cared about him, not because of what he could do for them.

  “And I have no doubt in my mind she would think the same. I want some time to get to know her before she finds
out who I am. I want her to see the man, not the movie star. Is that too much to ask?” It didn’t really matter. He only had the one night with the woman.

  Why did others find it so difficult to understand he wanted his date to like him for himself, not what he could do or buy for them? He was never certain of the real reasons a girl dated him. Did she really like him, or did she just find his bank account attractive?

  In a perfect world, he would meet and marry someone who had never heard of Jared Harwell. However, that would be next to impossible. His face was on too many magazines and on too many TVs to remain anonymous for any length of time.

  He had employed the 1Night Stand agency to set up the little fantasy for him to keep his anonymity. He needed to let off some steam with a female he found hot before he went on the hunt for the perfect Hollywood wife. He never had understood the media’s habit of attacking a woman because of her size. So what if he found heavier women attractive? It should be his business and no one else’s. Still, Jared knew he couldn’t subject a woman, especially a woman who he might come to care about, to such heartless bastards.

  “I don’t suppose so. But if you want my opinion, she isn’t the kind of chick to go for you just because you’re famous. She asked for someone fitting your description. That should count for something.”

  “You just don’t get it, do you? I’m probably her fantasy.” Jared snorted and ran his fingers through his hair. “God, that sounded conceited, didn’t it?”

  He hated celebrities who let their fame go to their heads. Though, he wasn’t sure he hadn’t become one of them over the last few years.

  Pushing away from his desk, he stood. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask that I make sure the person I intend to spend time with, even for one night, wants me for me. Do you?”

  “I don’t suppose it is.” James frowned. “Are you going to let her hear your accent or are you going to sound like an American? You know she specifically requested someone with either an English or Scottish accent.”