1
/
of
1
The Red Spot Press
The Caspari Encounters Book Two: Intoxicated
The Caspari Encounters Book Two: Intoxicated
Regular price
$2.99 USD
Regular price
Sale price
$2.99 USD
Shipping calculated at checkout.
Quantity
Couldn't load pickup availability
When Samantha Vichy arrived for work in the morning, she was not at all prepared and not at all dressed for the assignment about to be thrust into her lap. Often neglecting her personal needs and languishing in her professional life, she is far from the model emissary of high society. Yet following the illness of a coworker, she finds herself serving as the impromptu hostess of a visiting intellectual, Nobel laureate Adrian Caspari. What begins as an intimidating professional encounter soon blossoms into much more as she comes to learn the true identity of a man half the world admires through the letters on a page. Will she make a fool of herself and jeopardize her career by being unable to restrain her sudden infatuation, or will the thrilling predicament reveal a greater potential for good than ill? Will their physical chemistry be allowed to run its course, or is this simply another case of the body wanting what the world won't allow? Continue the story with 'Intoxicated,' the second installment of 'The Caspari Encounters,' to experience the thrilling and often hot answers to these questions and more.
Excerpt:
He spread his hand out to smooth the white cloth on the table, a ripple of fabric running before his fingers as though a wave off the prow of a ship. In impulsive sympathy, I reached out a hand and laid it atop his. He took my hand in his own with slight surprise, and held it up just off the table and gazed at it.
"It is perhaps the stupidest thing I have ever done, Samantha. It is very stupid indeed to forget the love of the people around you, to lay emotion aside for career and lay passion aside for intellect. All of those small decisions to neglect one thing in favor of another far less important came from the basest stupidity. It is not something I shall ever do again. When you find yourself alone, you are reminded of the wisdom in a simple human touch, surpassing what you will find in the most prestigious meeting rooms. No, I will never again forget that."
He brought his other hand and caressed the back of mine, his face still touched with a pensive regret. The gentle musicality of his voice and vibrations from the soft brush of skin upon skin swirled through me. Perhaps it was the wine. I was not myself. I was not in myself, nor in the courtyard. I was adrift, staring into his eyes and listening to his words. My heart was beating to this rhythm of his, so unlike that of anyone I had ever met before.
"But Samantha," he said with some surprise, "you are trembling. Have you gone so quickly gone from hot to cold?"
"No," I said. "I'm not cold."
"That is good, then. You seem such a fragile thing, in a moment like this. I could not bear the thought of your discomfort." He reached out that hand and brushed my cheek lightly. All other body parts ceased to exist for that all too brief instant.
"I think it's the wine," I said clumsily.
Excerpt:
He spread his hand out to smooth the white cloth on the table, a ripple of fabric running before his fingers as though a wave off the prow of a ship. In impulsive sympathy, I reached out a hand and laid it atop his. He took my hand in his own with slight surprise, and held it up just off the table and gazed at it.
"It is perhaps the stupidest thing I have ever done, Samantha. It is very stupid indeed to forget the love of the people around you, to lay emotion aside for career and lay passion aside for intellect. All of those small decisions to neglect one thing in favor of another far less important came from the basest stupidity. It is not something I shall ever do again. When you find yourself alone, you are reminded of the wisdom in a simple human touch, surpassing what you will find in the most prestigious meeting rooms. No, I will never again forget that."
He brought his other hand and caressed the back of mine, his face still touched with a pensive regret. The gentle musicality of his voice and vibrations from the soft brush of skin upon skin swirled through me. Perhaps it was the wine. I was not myself. I was not in myself, nor in the courtyard. I was adrift, staring into his eyes and listening to his words. My heart was beating to this rhythm of his, so unlike that of anyone I had ever met before.
"But Samantha," he said with some surprise, "you are trembling. Have you gone so quickly gone from hot to cold?"
"No," I said. "I'm not cold."
"That is good, then. You seem such a fragile thing, in a moment like this. I could not bear the thought of your discomfort." He reached out that hand and brushed my cheek lightly. All other body parts ceased to exist for that all too brief instant.
"I think it's the wine," I said clumsily.
Share
