Virtual Love (Sexy Alpha Male Romance)

  Virtual Love

  Amber Carew

  The intensely sexy stranger was everything she wanted in a man, and everything she hated. He was intelligent, passionate, and compelling. Authoritative, domineering, and stubborn. And he would stop at nothing to convince her to surrender to him, body and soul.

  Even though she sensed he would never hurt her, his ability to bend her to his will terrified her. She vowed never to surrender control. But ultimately, would she have a choice?

  Praise for Virtual Love

  5 Cups!

  Cherokee, Coffee Time Romance

  4 Roses!

  "Ms. Carew's writing was spotless! Ms. Carew has created a fantasy world this reader had no trouble falling into. What an engrossing and imaginative tale. Well done, Ms. Carew, your story is the crown jewel of this anthology!"

  Janalee, A Romance Review

  4 Stars!

  " Carew has written an incredible mind expanding story of a disciplined restrained woman "out of control" in this futuristic novella..."

  "... a "must read" that you will not be able to put down. I found myself caught up in the mystery of the Phantom and was pleasantly thrilled with the unexpected twists and turns as well as the surprise ending. Carew grabbed my interest and didn't let me go... I am looking forward to more of her work and you should be too!"

  Donna, eCataRomance Reviews

  4 Hearts!

  "… unique … combines passion, romance and sensuality that will knock the readers socks off. …extraordinary…"

  Angel Brewer, The Romance Studio

  4 Angels!

  "... an erotic treat … unique and fun"

  Amanda, Fallen Angel Reviews

  "…very original …well thought-out twist[s]…"

  Geni, Romance Reader At Heart

  Virtual Love

  Amber Carew

  Virtual Love

  Copyright 2012 Opal Carew

  * * *

  Previously published as Virtual Love.

  Previously published as Man of Her Dreams.

  * * *

  Ebook Design by MarksEbookFormatting.com

  * * *

  Discover more books by Amber Carew at her website

  www.AmberCarew.com

  * * *

  All Rights Are Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  First edition: March 2012

  Second edition: April 2013

  Third edition: Jun 2018

  www.AmberCarew.com

  www.OpalCarew.com

  To Mark,

  If you hadn't believed in me,

  I wouldn't have followed my dreams.

  * * *

  With very special thanks to my husband, Mark, who coined the word e-scape, and to my two wonderful friends and critiquers, Vicki Daly and Trish Wall, who helped me make this story all that it is.

  Contents

  Captive Lover

  Afterword

  Excerpts

  Also by Amber Carew

  About the Author

  Captive Lover

  A muscular arm clamped around Captain Jerette's waist from behind, knocking the wind from her lungs as she collided with a hard male chest. A wicked laugh sounded behind her, barely discernible over the roar of the storm. Rain and wind clouded her vision. She struggled to keep her feet beneath her on the slippery deck as her captor dragged her away from her post. Where was her crew? Had they abandoned ship? The pirate vessel had caught them off guard in this hellish storm and the blast from their cannon had ripped a huge hole in the hull of "Fearless Virginia".

  "Get your hands off me, you villainous devil," she screamed.

  "Not this time, my pretty," a deep voice rumbled in her ear. "You, Captain Jerette, terror of the high seas, have inflicted too much damage on my people. You've escaped too many times. I believe it is high time you pay your debt."

  "And who are you to extract this debt?"

  "I am Phantom. King of the Pirates."

  She gasped. Captain Jerette knew all about the pirate king. He had gathered together a motley collection of buccaneer ships and forged them into a formidable fighting force. She had vowed to free the ocean from his tyrannical rule.

  "You call me terror when it is you people fear."

  He spun her around and pressed her against the mast. Long tendrils of hair had escaped the ribbon binding it and whipped wildly across her eyes. But she took no notice. Not with those pair of cutting blue eyes staring into her own.

  "And what about you, Captain?" He leaned toward her, his words more chilling than the icy rain assaulting her. "Are you afraid?"

  She felt her pulse quicken, knowing the danger he represented. "Never."

  A lazy smile spread across his face at her resolute stand.

  "We'll see."

  She stood defiant in the face of his amusement. A shudder beneath their feet, and a great wooden groan, made it clear that the "Fearless Virginia" would not be afloat much longer. How had things gotten so out of control?

  Before she knew it, he had thrown her over his shoulder. She struggled, pummeling his back with her fists and kicking in a desperate attempt to escape. Her howls of rage merged with the wail of the wind and the rumbling thunder. She grabbed onto the railing as he attempted to carry her across to his own ship. He easily tugged her free. A strange fear surged through her, as though the danger he represented was far worse than it appeared. He pulled her below deck and pushed her into a cabin. The door slammed behind him and he locked it. Laughing, he pulled off his hat and shook his head, sending droplets of water flying through the air. She stood firm in the center of the room, eyes narrowed, watching him.

  "You've destroyed my ship. That should be enough revenge for you," she spat. "It's a captain's duty to go down with her vessel. At least that you should respect."

  He stepped forward, his heels stomping on the wooden floor. He reached out a finger and stroked it down her cheek with an insolent grin. She refused to flinch and stared boldly back at him.

  "No, I wouldn't waste such beauty on shark food." His gaze traveled leisurely down her body and up again. An unwanted awareness shot through her. "There are too many interesting… duties I can think of for you."

  Her control momentarily shattered. "I am a captain in the Queen's fleet. An officer."

  His amusement increased. "That should make it all the more interesting."

  With a suddenness that caught her off guard, he shoved her onto the bunk and ripped open her shirt. The storm had soaked her to the skin and the thin cotton chemise she wore underneath clung to her shamelessly. The cold made her nipples erect and horror spiked through her to see that the garment offered no protection from his eyes. In fact, the way his gaze seared her, she felt she'd be better off without it.

  As though reading her thoughts, he knelt down beside the bunk, brought his huge hands to her shoulders and tore the limp fabric from her. Conscious that her breasts, glistening wet, heaved up and down with her labored breath, she tried to cross her arms to cover herself. Too fast for her, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head with one strong hand. He used his free hand to push the wet, clinging hair from her face with a tenderness she had not expected. Then he trailed his fingers down her
neck and across her quivering chest. As he cupped her breast, her skin molded to his palm and the warmth gave her exquisite pleasure. The nipple thrust into his hand. Then his lips warmed her other nipple and she gasped.

  This is not how it's supposed to go, her thoughts screamed. I'm supposed to be in control. To her utter shame, a tear of frustration escaped her eye. He lifted his head and focused on that tear, then lowered his lips to kiss it away.

  "Don't be afraid, sweet Jerette. Let yourself lose control."

  His double edged meaning cut through the gauzy pleasure that held her hostage to his touch. She would stop this right now.

  His eyes narrowed as though he knew her thoughts. "No, Jerette. Don't—"

  Her voice cut across his as she cried out.

  "End session!"

  The scene around her dissolved and she lay gasping for breath in her game lounger, arms wrapped around herself. The dark-eyed pirate had also disappeared but she could remember the look of frustration on his face when he faded away. Slowly, she focused on the familiar walls surrounding her. Her leisure room was small but that didn't matter, since the time she spent here was typically in a virtual reality simulation where she was totally unaware of physical surroundings. Like the one she'd just fled.

  Damn! What was going on? The whole reason she escaped into VR was to go somewhere she could control her destiny. She defined the parameters of her adventures and knew precisely where they would go. Except something had changed. Someone was messing with her system—and she didn't like it.

  At first, it was subtle. Characters in her illusions became more real than ordinary computer simulations. Or more precisely, one character. One man. Oh, he looked different each time, had a different name, different mannerisms, but he was always strong and domineering. He must be a hacker who'd broken into her system but she was baffled as to how.

  Many people elected to network with others and play interactive games. But Jerette always played the simulations alone. No one should be able to access her system from outside. Yet this man was too real to be a computer personality.

  Messing with her system was bad enough but now he was taking control of her fantasies, changing them to suit his own purposes.

  Some said the VR was addictive. Jerette didn't believe that. Since her session on the high seas, she'd stayed out of VR but her reason was to avoid a software pirate of a new kind—one who stole her fantasies. Now he'd even infiltrated her dreams. When she closed her eyes at night to sleep, he came to her. And even there—especially there—she couldn't control him. Or her desires.

  What did he want? And where did he come from? These questions sifted through her mind continuously. The safest thing to do would be to stay out of VR.

  But she couldn't.

  During her days at work, she experienced great satisfaction in her role as manager of a large software development project. She controlled every detail of that effort, either personally or through the large team of professionals who reported to her. Still, things happened that sent plans skidding out of kilter. Only in VR could she totally control what happened. The draw of that perfectly controlled existence proved irresistible.

  The phantom pirate couldn't be present in the system all the time, she finally convinced herself. Why should she deny herself her much needed leisure time? So, she chose a time in the wee hours of the morning when system usage slumped. Surely this time he would not find her.

  She fanned the cards out in front of her, eyeing the hand Kid had dealt her. Three aces, king high. Not bad. She surreptitiously perused the faces around the table as she read her cards. Jake, the man on her left, tugged at his raggedy beard, a sure sign he reckoned himself in trouble. The Kid grinned widely, as always, smug. His streak of luck had flared to a peak but had started on a decline. He would not win this hand. She could feel it. That left one opponent, the stranger who sat across from her, eyes frigid blue, giving away nothing. She studied him, face closed, just as determined to give nothing back.

  "So, what is it, Marshall? Hold, or draw?" Kid held the deck expectantly.

  "Hold," she answered without hesitation.

  Jake and the Kid each drew cards. The stranger held. Betting soared around the table. Marshall Jerette knew Kid was bluffing and apparently so did Jake because he tossed in a huge stack of coins. Jake obviously didn't consider Jerette much of a threat. That's a mistake too many men had made and for that she would not feel sympathy for him when he lost more than he could afford. When the cards were called in, Jake watched her rake in the winnings with ill concealed hostility.

  "I'm out," he spat. "You're too danged lucky, Marshall. T'ain't fair." He threw back his last swallow of whiskey and pushed himself to his feet. "Too danged lucky," he muttered again as he clomped out of the saloon.

  The Kid jerked his head toward the swinging door. "You'd better watch yer back, Marshall. Jake ain't takin' too well to losin' these days."

  Jerette nodded. "He's had a bad streak but he should know better than to play if he can't afford to lose."

  "Good advice."

  The cold voice of the stranger sent shivers crawling up her spine. Her head snapped up to meet those ice blue eyes. It couldn't be him, she thought desperately. She'd been so careful.

  "Who are you?" she asked.

  "Call me Phantom, ma'am." He tipped his hat and smiled but it never reached his eyes.

  There it was. That cold, calculating look that she'd seen in countless pairs of eyes on different faces but all with one thing in common—the ability to unravel the control she so carefully guarded.

  "I don't believe I know you." She met that cold gaze and gave back every bit as good.

  "Oh, I believe you do… Marshall Jerette." The words rolled out in his maddeningly relaxed drawl.

  "Why are you here?" The words came out as a whisper and she swore internally. Control. She had to maintain control, if not of her fantasy at least of her own reactions.

  The Kid glanced from one to the other, a puzzled look on his face. "Marshall. You invited him to play. Remember?"

  "I never invited him to play."

  "But you…"

  At the look of steel she mustered, Kid changed his mind about contradicting her.

  "Whether you believe you did or not, Marshall Jerette," Phantom's even voice said, "you want me to play."

  He wasn't talking about poker and they both knew it. Panic skittled through her and an anxious little voice inside her head insisted she flee. Leave the session right now before it was too late. But too late for what? Anyway, she would not be driven from her own fantasy.

  The sound of coins clinking on the table drew her attention. "I'm out, too, I'm afraid, Marshall." The Kid's voice sounded disappointed.

  "It looks like it's just you and me." Phantom's gaze drifted across her face and down her chest, seeming to strip away her button-down vest, shirt, and cotton undershirt all with one look. "Do you want to play for something more… interesting?"

  A snicker sounded from the table next to them and her frigid glare froze the looks of amusement on the faces of those men.

  She slapped her hands on the table top and pushed herself to her feet. "I don't intend to play with you… stranger."

  She waited, eyes narrowed, right hand resting on her hip near her weapon—just in case. Men had claimed insult for less and she didn't intend to be outdrawn in her own town—by a stranger. Especially when the stranger is so familiar—and so dangerous.

  As if he'd read her thoughts, he dropped both his hands on the table and laughed. "Don't worry, Marshall. You and I will play soon enough."

  She swaggered out of the saloon, pushing back the swinging doors with a loud creak. A blast of dusty air stung her face as the wind whipped down the main street of the town they called Hell. A tumbleweed flung itself against her feet then careened away.

  "Marshall Jerette. I was just lookin' fer ye."

  She turned at the sound of her deputy hailing her from three doors down.

  "What is it, H
ank?"

  "There's some kind of trouble out at Charity's ranch. Heard tell of some kind of vandalism. Want me to go check on it?"

  She shook her head. "Naw. I'll go, Hank. The ride'll clear my head."

  "But do ye think ye should go alone?"

  "I'm not exactly alone." Her hand slid to the Colt Peacemaker slung at her hip. "Anyway, scarin' off vandals ain't exactly the same as wranglin' with the James brothers."

  "If'n yer sure, Marshal." He scratched at the thick growth on his chin. "Reckon I'll just grab me somethin' to ease my parched throat."

  "Go on, Hank. I'll be back by sundown." She eyed the sun. Still a good three hours till it set, she reckoned, and the ride to Charity's could be done in a half hour on a good horse. And Major Blue was the best. She grabbed his reins from the hitching post and swung into the saddle.

  "Come on, Blue. Time to go."

  He whinnied in agreement and soon they galloped across the dry packed earth. When she arrived at Charity's, she wasn't surprised to find the place empty. Charity had gone to help her sister get settled with a new baby and wouldn't be back for another week. She'd asked Jerette to keep an eye on her place.

  Jerette pushed open the gate on the picket fence and marched up to the front door. A thorough scan of the area had shown no damage. As she pushed open the door, the sound of a stone skittling across the ground caused her to jump. She glanced around but saw no one. Stepping into the house, she scanned the room with quick glances back and forth, assuring herself no one lay in wait inside.