Black Velvet Silver Heat

By Christy Poff

When Tamara Corvis heads to Morocco on her book tour, the bestselling author never imagines the life-altering experience she faces will lead her to the man she's destined to meet. In the space of several weeks, she becomes royalty, but can she handle everything that comes with the crown? Marc-Andre Branford senses his destiny and goes after it, only to become wrapped up in something that is not only dangerous, but amazing at the same time. Both his worlds clash—for better and for worse—as Branford struggles with two passions. Ali Elias will do anything for money and power—even destroy the innocent. Will his greed defeat the couple, or bring black velvet and silver heat together for an unstoppable combination?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Torrid Books
• Release date: Jun 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781611601879

Book preview

Prologue

Tamara Corvis had flown into Marrakech-Menara Airport in Morocco. While she’d been excited to come to this mystical country, she couldn’t understand how she’d become such a hot-selling author in Africa. Considering the genre, it doubly stunned her.

As she walked through the amazing airport, she went through Customs then found a man waiting for her and holding a message board with her name on it. Leading the man assisting her with her luggage over to where her driver stood, she smiled.

I’m Tamara Corvis, she said.

I will be your driver, he said, a bit shyly. The car is waiting outside.

She followed him over to it and settled into the rear of the black Mercedes limo. Once her luggage had been stowed, the driver who refused to say anything more than he already had hopped behind the wheel and drove away from the curb and the airport.

On the plane, she’d done some reading to get to know the city and found it to be magical. From what she’d seen so far, it reminded her of some of the movies she’d seen ages ago though she realized a great deal had changed. The city beautiful, she looked forward to seeing more of it but knowing her manager, that probably wouldn’t be happening.

Tamara adored Paul but he had a habit of filling her schedule to the point she had no chance to breathe or it wound up overlapping horribly. As soon as she met with him, she’d check her schedule and make sure she had time for herself.

Arriving at the La Sultana Hotel, she checked in and followed the bellman to her room—a huge suite that seemed to envelope her while not overwhelming her at all—a unique combination. Tipping the man and locking the door once he left, she looked around the room then walked over to the window where she gazed on some of the most beautiful scenery she’d ever laid eyes on. The ancient city mixed with the new intrigued her because the modern aspects had not been allowed to overshadow the old—something lacking in many places these days. It’s a shame… If I had my way…

Going into the bathroom, she looked in the mirror and noticed her eyes had yet to lose the redness. Her eye doctor had told her it might be a rupture and treatable with drops and cool compresses but so far it had yet to fade. She thought maybe the flight over may have had something to do with it because of the cabin pressure for an extended period of time. If it doesn’t clear up, I’ll call him…

Stripping out of her clothes, she walked to the shower and ran the water. As she gathered what she needed together, she stopped when she noticed some subtle changes to her body when she looked in the mirror. What the…

Besides the changes in her eyes—which at that moment seemed to fit right up there with this—she saw that her body appeared to be a little bit fuller, the same with her breasts. While her skin had always been considered fair, it now looked more so while her hair had taken on silver streaking. Paul won’t like this at all—I do… It stays…

Stepping into the shower, she jolted a little when it felt like every nerve ending had been sensitized. While it bothered her a little, she found she liked the way it felt. Chalking it up to the long flight plus hoping when she got out of the shower, it would turn out to be an overactive imagination, she finished up and wrapped a huge towel around herself.

As she walked out of the bath, she felt intense chill under her feet, the marble cool yet she noticed it more. Shaking her head, she walked up the steps to the bed and dropped the towel. Suddenly, she felt trapped—as if she needed freedom of some sort—but it passed. Naked, she stretched out as the warm breezes blew in from the windows.

This is heaven, she murmured as she closed her eyes and drifted off.

* * * *

Hours later, she woke to an impatient knocking on her door. Dragging herself out of bed, she made sure to grab a robe instead of the towel. Tying the sash around herself, she fixed the silky robe as she crossed the floor to where the noise seemed to have subsided a bit.

Who is it?

Paul, a voice said. Let me in.

Opening the door, he nearly pushed her out of the way as he entered the room.

Hello to you, too…

I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours…

I fell asleep.

You don’t have time to fall asleep… he snapped.

I want to talk to you about that, she said. I want to see the schedule.

Why?

Because it’s my right to know what you’ve got planned for me. I want to be able to enjoy this trip as well as being on public display. Now, let me see it.

I still don’t… he said as he begrudgingly handed it to her.

Are you serious? This doesn’t give me time to go to the bathroom much less take a breath.

There are people who want to see you…

Please, ask them to bear with me but I cannot meet with all of them. I am human, after all.

You can’t go blowing off this tour…

I can’t end up in the hospital due to exhaustion either, she countered as she read over the agenda he had planned. Cut it down to the book signing, the reception and one or two luncheons. All this other stuff will need to be canceled with our regrets.

The publisher wants all this…

Paul, I’ve spoken with them and they told me that they’d like some of it done—not all of it. Even they realize this is not humanly possible.

You need the exposure, Tamara.

I need to have some time to myself, Paul. If you don’t stop this fast pace you want me to live at, I will fire you. I can’t do this.

Paul looked at her, the rage in his eyes scaring her. They’d been together since she’d signed with the publishing house several years before. While very good at his job, he tended to become overzealous and did not take notice of the fact that the packed schedule had been detrimental to her career. Why he did not understand any of her concerns, she didn’t know but the time had come for her to dig her heels in and fight back.

What did you do to your hair? It’s…

I like it and it stays. You might try to run my waking hours but you will not have a say in this.

Did something happen on the flight?

No, she answered. Why?

You’ve changed.

It’s been coming for a while. Now, go cancel half this schedule.

I…

If you don’t, I will not show up and then what will that do?

You wouldn’t… he gasped.

Try me.

Tamara?

What?

Your eyes are redder than the last time.

Another reason for me to not be tied up—my eyes need rest.

Tamara…

Do it or find another job.

* * * *

After breakfast the next morning, Tamara went to the book signing scheduled by the publisher. Conveniently set up in a conference room at the gorgeous La Sultana, she appreciated that she didn’t have far to go. She’d slept reasonably well but her dreams had lingered and now she wondered what they meant.

Several hours later, she signed the last autograph and left the room escorted by the head of the Moroccan branch of the publishing house. As they walked past the front desk, she noticed a tall dark-haired man standing at reception. From what she could tell, he dressed elegantly and took meticulous care of his hair, moustache and goatee. He nodded as they walked by each other and she thought nothing more about him. The one in her mind—also dark-haired with a thicker beard and moustache but amazing eyes—kept interrupting her thoughts and she found she wanted to meet him desperately. Why?

You are supposed to be meeting with…

I canceled…

No, Paul said. I didn’t do it—this or any of the others. I went to a lot of time and effort to put that together and I won’t let you screw around with it because you’re being uppity for some damned reason.

Tamara looked at him, her eyes glowing red. The heat from her anger coursed through her giving her strength.

Paul, you are fired, she quietly stated. I want you away from me and out of my affairs.

You can’t…

You’re right, I’m acting too hastily. First, you will undo your schedule then you are fired. I didn’t agree to half of what is on there and I’m not killing myself for you—do you understand me?

He must have taken the hint as he virtually ran from her presence. Turning back to the man she’d been speaking with, she apologized before they continued into the outdoor lounge and sat down. Ordering hot tea, they sat and discussed the fact she needed a new press agent.

I can get another one from the main office in New York but it will take a day or two before anyone gets over here.

Then I guess I’ll have to take things in hand and do it myself. Surely I can’t mess things up any more than he did.

I believe you’re quite capable, he said as he raised his cup to her. To a good tour.

* * * *

Her quiet rage did not go unnoticed.

Ali Elias, the man standing at the front desk, watched the entire episode with keen interest. Catching a glimpse of her fiery red eyes, he knew she had to be the one they’d been searching for.

Are you all right? Fatema asked.

Better than all right, he answered. She’s here—the answer to everything.

What are you talking about?

Tamara Corvis—the woman sitting out on the porch—she is the one. I saw her eyes glow red.

Are you positive?

Yes, never more so.

What do you want to do?

I will make plans as soon as I learn how long she’ll be here. While I do that, you get the drug we’ve been discussing and bring it to the house. Here’s a list of what else we’ll need, he said as he handed her a hastily written list.

Latex?

Control, my love. We can’t afford her doing anything we don’t want. If she’s restrained like this, then we can come and go as we please ergo, we won’t need any nosy guards. One or two of our extremely trusted men and we’ll be set.

Blindfold?

Something to slip over her eyes. The drug will force them to remain open unless one of us closes them. With that red glow, it needs to be covered when not needed.

Tell me one more time…

In order to rule the dissidents in this part of the world, they need an eye print to officiate any commands given. They don’t need to physically see her—just the eye print.

And you can’t use mine?

It is inbred in all wolves—even you. Instinctively, the silver queen is recognized and obeyed without question. Only she has those red eyes. Imagine what we can do…

She must have a destined mate somewhere…

Evidently not—she’s here alone.

So what you’re saying is…

By the time we’re done with her, we’ll be rich beyond even our wildest dreams and we won’t need her or the pack we’ll steal from.

Fatema grinned.

One shopping trip coming up.

Do you have enough for the drugs?

Hopefully, she answered. The chemist is looking for quick cash flow in order to beat a hasty exit from this part of the world.

And once he does and we need more, how will we find him?

He doesn’t know it but I injected a tiny GPS tracking chip into his shoulder. I can trace him wherever he goes.

Beautiful and smart…

I had a good teacher.

Ali pulled her tight against him, their eyes locking on one another’s. He slipped his hand behind her neck under her lush mane of hair before his fingers tangled in it and he yanked her head back. As she watched him, his tongue laved the length of her neck before stopping underneath her ear.

Take care in being smart, my pet. It could get you in trouble.

Then you would punish me…

True…

I love your punishment.

Hugging her tighter, he nipped her earlobe, Fatema jolting.

Just remember, my pet—we may be wolves who mate for life but I can end your life as quick as look at you.

Yes, my Lord, I know.

His lips covered hers in a brutal show of possession and control, her body curling into his. They’d had this same conversation time and time again and still remained together though not destined mates—the one thing he knew that terrified her. If I ever find…

Chapter 1

Marc-Andre Branford lived a quiet life in Alberta—at least until pack business came into play and then he became one of their team leaders. Since Martin Wolfe and his wife had joined the packs across the northern half of the province, things had been relatively quiet which made him happy.

Never would he turn down either Wolfe or his brother Pierce McNally if they called—they’d fought together before as a team and had always been successful. He just wanted to enjoy life without any hassle.

Thanks to the new superpack as some called it, members from both sides of the province could meet in a community center and live their lives without dealing with the human world. It made things easier considering the area had yet to stop reeling from what some guy named Keppler had done in a bid to become leader.

Before his downfall, the northern packs had come the closest ever to being outed for their true natures. He walked in, saved the weakened pack from this and proceeded to use their appreciation against them for his own nefarious ends. Wolfe and the others stopped him but at the near cost of losing everything he had including his mate. Fortunately, Keppler had been stopped and everyone had since been living happily ever after as they say in fairy tales.

One of the advantages to Wolfe’s overall plan had been the huge hockey facility he and his brother built. Both men loved the sport and had grown up playing pond hockey. Now they had the best of both worlds in that they could still play outside when weather permitted or inside on the state-of-the-art ice. Branford loved it and often played on their team when he could.

Branford had been in the publishing business for a long while and watched the advent of the entire industry going electronic. Having started out in Los Angeles, he’d gone from time-consuming artwork and design to computer-generated artwork he could do from home. Where once he’d traveled a great deal meeting with authors and other clients, he now emailed them his designs, waited for their approval and padded his bank account nicely, all while living in a huge lodge in northern Canada.

Hey, McNally, in or out? he asked once he’d reached his friend.

Out and we need you if you can play. One of our forwards is down…

Say no more—I am your man.

Grabbing his gear, he put it in his truck and headed to the pond in Wolf Creek, Alberta. Life is good…

* * * *

Tamara Corvis got what she wanted—Paul out of her life. Now that she had control over things, she felt a sense of relief.

As she walked toward the front lobby, a woman came up to her with a copy of her book in her hands and asked if she wouldn’t mind signing it. Tamara smiled, asked her name and signed the inside page of the book then handed it back. The woman thanked her in a dialect she didn’t know then left the lobby leaving Tamara alone once more. What the hell had he been so afraid of?

It seemed to her that Paul had been shielding her from something though she’d never been able to put her finger on it. If most fans proved to be like the one she’d just met, she’d have no problem. Yes, she knew about the crackpots but every author had their fair share. Not everyone enjoyed reading about vampires or some of the other chosen genres but that made the world go around as her grandmother would say.

Going to the desk clerk, she asked for her key and got a stack of notes with it. Thanking the clerk, she headed to her room, reading some of the notes as she walked. She smiled grateful for her fans since all of them had expressed their sympathies at not being able to meet her but she had to take care of her health—especially when it came to eyesight, as one put it. So that’s the story he gave them…

Miss Corvis, you asked me to remind you about the spa appointment later this afternoon… he said as she walked away.

Looking forward to it.

I believe you will enjoy it. Our staff is very talented.

She nodded and thanked him then went back to her room. She had a few hours to relax until the spa appointment and she intended to do just that—relax. Do I remember how to?

* * * *

Elias…

I’ve been fired.

Why?

She didn’t like my organizational and time management skills.

Then you will follow her…

She will be in the spa around four—the last appointment and she should be alone.

You’ve saved your worthless soul, my brother.

And after this is done, so am I.

As we agreed, Ali Elias stated. You can walk away without a problem as we discussed.

Good, I’m ready to settle down and stop following broads around doing my best for them only to have the bitches turn on me.

Then you will have your wish, Paul—trust me.

Elias ended the call and called one of his men.

My brother has outlived his usefulness. Once we get our guest here and under control, take care of the problem and make sure it’s clean.

The man nodded than disappeared. Elias knew he could trust this one to follow Paul from that moment until the time came to carry out his orders and Paul would never be the wiser. Samuel came highly recommended when Ali had hired him and once he learned the man came from his tiny realm of dissident wolves—ones who’d been cast aside by their own packs for one reason or another—the man’s value increased immeasurably.

Ali, a familiar voice called.

In here, Fatema.

She came into the room carrying numerous bags plus one man following behind with more.

What the hell is all of this? he asked as the man left them alone, closing the door behind him.

"Everything you need to carry out the Grand Plan," she said, referring to their scheme.

Explain…

First, here’s the drug, she said as she handed him an aluminum briefcase. He told me if you need more, call him. He won’t leave Morocco until you are satisfied.

Ali nodded.

Second, here are the nun habits. An ironic twist, don’t you think? Nuns guarding a being the church denies the existence of. They are not exactly what I wanted but they will be just as effective.

And this is for what?

Her guards. She will need to be prepared for the drug. They will do it and never reveal their identities though she will understand their complete control over her once they begin their duties. Besides, I’ve seen some of the guards around here and you do not want them guarding her when they want to fuck her.

Again he nodded.

Now, for the bad news…

Go on…

"Here is her shroud…" she said, pulling it out of a bag and holding it up to him.

Fatema, I thought I told you I wanted latex.

You did but it is hard to come by in these parts, especially if a woman asks. So I figured out something else which may—in the long run—be more durable and better for what you want.

And that is?

Leather…

Explain, my love.

You know that it’s long been used in torture and murder. A leather thong is placed around the victim’s neck after being thoroughly soaked in water. As it dries, it tightens causing it to close around the targeted area. It’s also great for binding people securely, as well.

And…

If you place her in a leather shroud, when it dries, it will shrink around her body holding her in place.

Why more durable?

"If she has yet to change, more than likely she will not be able to control it. Leather will stand up to claws much longer than latex and won’t stretch,