Intoxication Read online

  Intoxication

  L S Slayford

  For this book, I would like to give a big shout out to Jessie, who keeps believing in me even when I find it hard to believe in myself.

  For everyone out there, do not give up on love. When you least expect it, it finds you in the most surprizing of places.

  “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

  Lao Tzu.

  © Copyright 2018 - All rights reserved.

  The contents of this book may not be reproduced, duplicated or transmitted without direct written permission from the author.

  Under no circumstances will any legal responsibility or blame be held against the publisher for any reparation, damages, or monetary loss due to the information herein, either directly or indirectly.

  The characters within this book are fictitious and any resemblance between them and real people is purely coincidental.

  -

  Tara

  “Welcome to Macau. The weather at present is a balmy eighty-six degrees Fahrenheit with a humidity level of seventy-seven percent. We hope you enjoyed flying with us and hope to see you soon.” The pilot’s upbeat voice was barely audible over the chattering and noise of the other passengers scrambling to be the first ones out of their seats and into the line.

  Don’t these people know that they’re not going to get anywhere fast? Tara thought, shaking her head at the sight of everyone scrambling to their feet as soon as the plane stopped moving. No doubt everyone would be stuck in the middle of the aisle, clutching their oversized bags, trying to move a few measly centimetres at a time. Sighing, Tara settled back into her seat, stuffed her folder in her bag, and watched her fellow passengers do exactly as she predicted.

  It was only when the last of the middle-aged businessmen, the exhausted parents struggling to hold onto the hands of overtired kids, and the lovely-dovey couples kissing every few minutes, had finally passed by her that Tara started to rise. At first, standing hurt. Muscles ached from underuse, and her entire body felt as though it was bruised. Arching her spine, Tara’s body welcomed the sensation of the simple stretch. Suppressing a sigh, she quickly made her way to the aisle and reached for her bags. A few minutes later, she thanked the stewardess standing at the door and followed in the direction of those in front, her heels clicking with every step.

  Are you sure about this? the little voice in the back of her head whispered as she followed the overhead signs to passport control. You could always turn around. What do you really expect to find here? Fun? A holiday romance – don’t make me laugh. You couldn’t find that at home so what makes you think you’ll discover it here?

  “Shut up,” Tara muttered underneath her breath, causing the couple in front of her to turn around and give each other confused glances. She tried to shake the doubts away, but that damn voice just knew how to grip the sides of brain and lodge itself no matter how hard she tried.

  What did she expect? She was now on the other side of the world, but what did she really expect to gain from this impulsive last-minute trip?

  Peace. Fun. Just to get away from them. Closing her eyes, images of Greg sprang to mind. His sweet smile, those cornflower blue eyes that sparkled even the dark, those dimples that highlighted his cheekbones. His long roman nose that always turned pink in the winter like a dog. Those lips that sent shivers racing along her spine and those large hands that always knew exactly where to touch. He was what her mother called the Golden One.

  Mother always did love him. You could tell she liked him more than you, the voice whispered once more. It wouldn’t surprise me if she continues to see him even when you get back.

  Now that Tara found herself agreeing to bitterly. It won’ have surprised her in the least if her mother continued to have coffee with him in town. Both accountants for rival firms that sat next to each other, her boyfriend would find himself discussing cases with her mother during their lunch breaks.

  Ex-boyfriend.

  The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. Ex-boyfriend. After five years, they were no longer together. After a year of dating, Tara had started thinking that they would eventually get married. Within three years, they had finally moved into a house. Life had been almost perfect. They’d live together for a few years, get married, have a baby, and live the good life.

  But life was a bitch.

  Life was a bitch that needed to be punched and kicked in the groin.

  Shuffling forward, Tara waited as the couple in front bounded off to the passport control box. Huge grins threatened to split their faces as they sneaked in another kiss before taking back their passports and being waved through. If only I were that happy again, she lamented, quickly taking their place at the control box.

  Handing over her passport, a wave of sadness flowed over her. Two weeks had passed since that day, and still the pain felt raw. Greg’s face popped up in her mind again, but this time so did Carly’s. White-blonde hair falling across Greg’s naked chest, hands entwined, Carly’s head thrown back in the heat of passion.

  In Tara’s damn bed.

  Pain fused with anger. Every time the thought of Greg flittered through her mind, it went straight back to that damn scene. And every time the pain lanced through her entire being. When was that image of them naked in her bed going to disappear? When would that pain finally ebb away so that she could make it through the day without crying herself to sleep at night?

  “Miss? Miss? You may go through now.” A heavily accented voice snapped her out of her reverie. Looking down, Tara saw her passport thrust in her direction. Mumbling thanks under her breath, Tara clutched her bag tighter and hurried away from the booth where she could still feel a gaze on her back.

  Look at you, still so stupid over him, the voice mocked. Everyone probably thinks you’re just another stupid foreigner. Wouldn’t surprise me if everyone’s having a right laugh at your expense.

  “I’m really getting sick of you,” Tara muttered under her breath, annoyance sweeping through her at the sound of the voice. She longed for a way to silence the damn thing.

  Glancing at the information board, Tara quickly found the carousel where her luggage would be arriving. Several minutes later, and in possession of her suitcase, she inhaled deeply and glanced around for her exit.

  A sea of faces moved in an unseen current around her, flowing like a broad river down the aisles. Small groups would suddenly stop and cause a small whirl, but the others would simply flow around them and continue on their way. Old and young, male and female, people of all races gushed, racing to get on their way. The air-conditioned building made it easy to breathe, but Tara could already feel the heat sweeping through from somewhere. The tiles gleamed underfoot, and light poured in through the many tall windows that stretched from one side of the building to the other. Children darted in and out, the frantic calls of their parents trailing behind in different languages. Grumbling rose in the air, and the eager voices of tourists swirled around her.

  Stomach churning, and nervousness threatening to spark off that damn annoying voice again, Tara inhaled once more, clutching her suitcase tightly, and set off to find the exit. Movement from the side caught her eye, and a small giggling whirlwind rushed past her. Quick on its heels was a young Asian mother calling her child’s name. Shaking her head and smiling, and not envying the poor mother, Tara turned her head forward. An audible snap rang in her ears, and everything just stopped.

  Eyes widening, the world seemed to stop. Time was slow, but fast. Her perception of time became distorted; everything slowed down until there was nothing but her and the air rushing past her cheeks, the blood racing in her veins. Her hands unclenched, reaching out but finding nothing but emptiness. Her bags fell from her
clutches, and her gasps overshadowed the faint rustle of paper. Tara knew she was falling, knew that the ground would welcome her, and braced herself from the pain.

  Only it never came.

  Where there should be pain, was warmth and strength instead. “Careful,” came a heavily-accented male voice from above. “You should look where you are going. Not everybody will catch you, even for someone as beautiful as you.”

  Gasping, Tara looked down. The reason for her fall was apparent. Several inches separated her heel from her shoe. “Damn thing. The heel has snapped off. That’s the last time I buy anything at the market ever again,” she vowed.

  “I would suggest paying a little more for your shoes next time you shop. They will last longer, and you shouldn’t have any mishaps,” came the voice, a slight teasing evident in his tone.

  Tara reached for the broken heal, trying to hold back the urge to throw the damn thing across the room in disgust. “You would think, but these things are always happening to me. I’m the only one in the world who can trip up the stairs and hit my head on the door within a few minutes of each other. I’m a nightmare!”

  “Well, from where I’m looking, you look more like a dream.”

  Finally glancing up, Tara inhaled sharply, unable to pull her gaze away. Dark whiskey-coloured eyes stared down from above her, the glint of humour evident as he gazed at her. He had the highest cheekbones she had ever seen, and his skin reminded her of crushed cinnamon mixed with cream. But Tara’s gaze was drawn to his lips. Full and the colour of crushed winter berries turned up at the corners, they were the perfect size to sink one’s teeth into. White teeth shined against his bronzed skin, showing off dimples on either side of his face. Sweet gods alive, he’s gorgeous. Immediately, Tara could feel the rush of blood pool to her cheeks as she realised his hands still had a firm grip on her arms as she lay between his crouched legs.

  “You must have a funny idea as what constitutes a dream. Trust me, I’m everyone’s idea of a nightmare,” she replied, willing the red stains on her cheeks to disappear but knowing that it was deepening the longer she stayed sprawled across the floor. “I can’t go anywhere without knocking into anything or banging into someone.”

  A light chuckle flittered down to her ears. “Duly noted. Do you normally cause such a mess when you bump into things and people?”

  A crease formed between Tara’s brows, not understanding his words. Then she glanced down. Papers streamed across the floor, black lettering standing out against the light marble-effect tiles. Her bag laid on its side, half its contents sprawled over the tiles, her folder open and empty. “Damnit, damnit, damnit,” she muttered angrily to herself, jerking out of the stranger’s arms and reaching for the papers. It was only when she glanced down at a sheet of paper that she realised it wasn’t one of hers. Graceful Chinese characters stared up at her, and she marvelled at the intricate beauty of them before she handed it to the man who had saved her from examining the floor up close. “These are yours, I believe.”

  “Thank you,” he told her, placing it in a pile next to his open briefcase. “It would be hard to finish this project without the necessary paperwork.”

  Tara gave him a knowing smile. “I can imagine. The joys of paperwork, right?”

  “Oh yes. My life wouldn’t be complete without all the paperwork I have to deal with.” Something tingled in the bottom of Tara’s stomach at his teasing laugh. Quickly, they gathered up the remaining paperwork, and Tara stuffed what belonged to her in her bag.

  Standing, Tara took a better look at the man who fate had decided to torment that day. She estimated him at around six-foot-tall, with short black hair combed back off his face. Wearing a dark grey suit tailored to his slender frame, and a white shirt that brought out the warmth of his cinnamon-coloured skin.

  Damn, girl, at least you picked a nice one to bump into, the voice in her mind told her. Tara had to agree. He did look good. There was something about a man in a well-tailored suit that just made her want to stop and stare. And wipe the drool off her chin.

  Finally swallowing the lump that had formed in the back of her throat, Tara opened her mouth as she quickly glanced at her feet, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry I bumped into you. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

  Briefcase in hand, the black leather glistening in the sunlight, he shrugged, a graceful gesture. She looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat as one corner of his mouth turned upwards. “Not at all. I’m just glad I caught you before you hit the ground.”

  Tara sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Yeah, that would have made a great way to start my holiday.”

  “Has nothing as exciting happened on any of your other trips then?

  Tara shook her head. “Actually, this is my first trip.”

  “By yourself you mean?”

  “No, my first trip ever.”

  Black eyebrows rose in surprise. “Your first trip ever is to Macau?”

  A smile broke out over Tara’s mouth, and she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve always wanted to visit the Far East, especially Macau and Hong Kong. A chance came up to come here, and I thought why not. It’s about time I did something for myself.”

  “Indeed. That’s a good attitude to take. But why are you alone? Why not bring a friend?”

  Tara shrugged. “No one could get the time off work, or else they have young children to look after. No one was able to come with me. But truthfully, I’m glad. I wanted the time to myself. This trip is going to be my experience. All by myself. A little selfish perhaps, but at least it’s honest.” Tara opened her mouth as she listened to the words pouring out. Another wave of embarrassment flooded through her. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not really some heartless woman. It’s just … just that I -”

  The stranger just laughed and held up his hand. “It’s OK, and I don’t think you’re a heartless woman. It’s natural to want to have some experiences all to yourself once in a while. It’s good for you. This has been the first time I’ve saved a beautiful young lady from landing on her nose, so it’s been quite an experience for me, too.”

  Tara found herself laughing at his words, although she quickly bypassed the beautiful bit. She wasn’t bad looking, but beautiful? No. Just average. “Well, I’m glad I could help you achieve this once-in-a-lifetime experience. May you have plenty of equally as exciting experiences to come.”

  The laughter continued to flow between them, and those whiskey-coloured eyes drew her gaze, locking with them. Both sides of that full mouth rose, and the glint of white teeth shone between those lips. “I always welcome exciting experiences,” he purred, his gaze dropping down to Tara’s lips before meeting her eyes once more.

  That prickle of something tingled in her belly once more, and it was only when her lungs demanded air that Tara realised she had been holding her breath. A sizzle of excitement coursed along her nerves, streaming throughout her body. The heated smoulder in his dark gaze forced her to clench her thighs together. Clearing her throat, Tara tried to ignore the feeling. “Do you know which way is the exit, please? Hopefully, there will be taxis outside.”

  Nodding, the stranger twisted his body and pointed to the far back. “Just head that way. You can’t miss it.” Turning his gaze back to her, he dropped the smile. “Could I offer you a ride to your hotel? I’m just picking up my luggage and then will be heading to the city.”

  Blowing out a steady breath, Tara offered him a small smile and shook her head. “Thanks, but I couldn’t trouble you any further than what I’ve done so far. I’ll be fine with the taxi.”

  Giving her a small nod, he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. The tingle in her stomach intensified under the softness of his lips. “I’m sure you will. Have a safe trip, lanzai. And welcome to Macau.”

  Cong

  Cong watched as the red-headed beauty walked away from him. Even in the busy crowds, he could easily spot her. Several inches shorter than himself, her hair
helped her to stand out from a distance. Mind you, it was easy enough to spot anyone who was hobbling up and down. Christ, what woman these days would buy cheap shoes with heels that would snap in the middle of an airport? He didn’t know any woman who didn’t spend hundreds of dollars on a single pair.

  Even if the damn shoe hadn’t snapped, she had caught his attention. If he was honest with himself, he had been watching her as she manoeuvred her way around the crowds, even from a distance. Her flame-coloured hair had drawn his attention, like a moth to a flame. That creamy coloured skin was flawless, and those black trousers moulded to her slender frame like a second skin. He wasn’t keen on the baggy red top that attempted to hide her curves, but he knew that they were under there all right.

  Cong exhaled as the image of her walking towards him sprang to mind now she had finally escaped his line of sight. Lacking the grace that many of his ex-lovers possessed, she certainly had a fresh appeal to her as she had come close to him. Thank all the gods that her heel broke just as I was standing there, he thought to himself. She had fallen into his arms – literally – like she was an offering from the gods themselves. That smooth skin was softer than he’d ever known, and it was all he could do to restrain himself from reaching for her once again after she had slipped out of his hold and started gathering the papers from the floor.

  “Definitely one way to mark the end of this trip,” Cong muttered under his breath as he waited for the carousel to start bringing out the luggage. Damn, he needed a drink. The meeting was a disaster waiting to happen, and if he didn’t get a start on trying to fix it, then the shit was going to hit the fan.

  The last forty-eight hours in Tokyo dealing with Fujimara Industries had been a nightmare. Everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong. From the sloppy organisational skills of his secretary’s new assistant, to the tire blowing out on the limo on the way to the meeting. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the whole damn venture was cursed.