Linda Graves/layla hazine
romance, fantasy Author
romance, fantasy Author
| Excerpts from Raqs Rory |
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CHAPTER 1
Damn that alarm. Rory wiggled under the silky sheet, desperately wanting to feel the unfamiliar heated
passion again. Refusing to open her eyes, she prayed sleep would return, even if only for a few moments.
The erotic effects of the dream lingered in spite of the annoying clock, as the snooze sounded again. Her
body and soul had reacted enthusiastically to the audacious scene that now slowly faded.
Never had a dream taken such an intriguing, yet uncharacteristic twist. Exhibitionism? The dim memory of
hundreds of unseen eyes, witnessing their amorous dance sent wet heat to her sweet center. The room’s
heat level rose decimals, as she recalled that hot, delectably rock hard, body pressing against her back as
the dark, enchanting music orchestrated their dance.
Squeezing her eyes shut, the residual essence of that muscular arm pressing the entire length of her body
to his, holding the embrace as their fingers entwined, sent a titillating shiver from toe to temple. Her back
arched as she recalled the touch of his fingers gently trailing along her neck, following the whispered path
of his peppermint-scented breath. Damn and damn again. Why hadn’t she turned to look into the face of
the man that had set every molecule of her passion to flame?
Double damn! The dream was gone. With eyes finally open, her wanton smile met the happy glints of red
and orange that streamed through the window. Even the afternoon sun offered a warm welcome home
embrace. With the passing of each dismal year, unwanted pounds had taken residence on her five-foot-
three frame. Each added pound had subtracted an equal measure of confidence. Now faced with a new
destiny and a second chance at happiness, the vibrant Rory of twenty years past, though buried under as
extra forty pounds, demanded liberty. Today was the first day of her redemption. Weight be damned, that
lost self-esteem, that lost effervescence would be reborn!
Her eyes fell to the simple gold band, forgotten on her finger. Barely noticeable, and like the lackluster
marriage it represented, easily overlooked. Light hearted, she moved from the bed, weaving through the
many boxes stacked harem-scarem around the room. Finding the one marked ‘Dresser’, she began to dig
through sweaters and lingerie revealing the treasure buried deep inside, a two-tier cherry wood jewelry box
handed down from her grandmother.
The tears that had mourned all those bad past decisions were only memories. Now joy and relief radiated
from the genuine smile that reflected in the dresser mirror. Excitement had begun to bloom, opening wide to
the prospects of the life yet to be. The fitting notes of the ‘Merry Widow’s Waltz’ floated from the jewelry
box, orchestrating the final ceremony. Raising her hand, she slid off her wedding band. Wiggling the
exonerated finger that now enjoyed the freedom from its entrapment, she placed the ring in one of the
velvet lined compartments. The lid closed, marking the exodus of Bryan and the completion of the second
phase of her life.
Revived by the brief afternoon nap, she switched back to the role of dedicated manual laborer. Within two
hours, the rear of the UHaul truck stood empty. With heart beating gleefully, and a smile that couldn’t be
scraped off, the final box was placed along the garage wall. With hands on hips in a mighty Peter Pan
stance, she examined the rewards of her diligent toils over the previous two weeks. A productive garage
sale took care of most of the unwanted furniture and appliances, as well as the kitchenware and no longer
worn clothes. Only thirty-eight boxes remained, holding the remnants of more than twenty years of a less
than impressive life.
The days had been warm and sunny since the decision was made to honor Texas again with her
citizenship. Anticipation had granted a surplus of energy, as she rose with the birds and continued long
after the sun had set. Excitement had grown with every box taped closed, each one a step closer to home,
to Texas. Now, finally, that was a reality and home she was.
Turning from the garage, a sad little whimper came from the sharp leaf bushes that lined the garage. A
small scuffling sound, along with more whimpering came from the bushes. The yard backed up to the wilds
and less than half mile inside the woods, a small stream flowed. A raccoon bite wouldn’t bode well on her
first day home; still an animal couldn’t be left to suffer. Rory stepped back wearily as the edge of the
bushes began to move, the animal crawled pitifully from under the thick bushes.
“Xena, what are you doing in the front yard?” Xena was Rory’s normally energetic Boston Terrier. Now, the
little dog showed no enthusiasm, pain and confusion clouded her eyes as she limped on three legs.
“You’re hurt.” Squatting down, she ran a hand over the little black and white dog’s body. There didn’t
appear to be any blood or external damage.
Rather than standing to receive the attention that was always demanded, the pup lay on its side, pitifully
nuzzled Rory’s hand. Even in pain, the little drama queen played on her mistress' sympathies, wanting the
petting to continue. Instead, Rory gathered the dog into her arms and hurried over to the car. It was
nearing five o’clock. “We need to get you checked out. Hopefully the vet will still be there.”
***
“Mrs. Anderson, I’m Dr. McGlocklin.”
Rory’s eyes widened as the veterinarian walked through the doorway of the sterile white examination room.
A rich, golden starburst radiated from the center of his brilliant blue eyes like a hypnotic charm. Those
distinctive eyes twinkled deliciously with his smile. Whether it was because of the eyes, the generous smile
or the masculine, sun-kissed face, she lost her train of thought. Turning to wash his large, strong hands,
the magnificent view of the room improved even more. Long hair had never attracted her before, but the
vision of her hands tangling in those thick, wavy, dark brown locks brought a hot blush to her cheeks.
Following the path his ponytail directed, pass broad shoulders, pass the small waist, straight to his
amazingly tight well-packed jeans, she dared not release her breath for fear it would come out in a gush.
“Oh shit.” She moaned under her breath as heat rose to her cheeks when he turned, connecting her eyes
with his healthy package.
His smirk while approaching the cold sterile, metal examination table implied the equipment appreciation
was a welcome complement, probably not the first he’d received. Xena had regained some of her vinegar
and was excitedly awaiting attention from a new playmate. “So what’s the problem with our little friend here?”
Rory’s eyes were glued to his sexy lips as he spoke. Years had passed since she had noticed a man as
more than just a human. This man was way more than just a human. Man? Was that a stretch? Damn.
Young, yes, probably just out of veterinary school, but ruggedly handsome and pure sex on a stick. Still,
checking out his left ring finger, and finding no ring, fueled her sudden fantasy about what could happen on
that cold metal examina….
“Mrs. Anderson?” Leaning a hip on the table, casually scratching Xena behind the ear, he smiled, waiting
for her answer.
“I’m sorry.” Damn, caught gawking again. Licking her dry lips, she stepped toward Xena, laying a hand on
the little dog’s back. “Rory.”
“So what’s the problem with Rory?”
She looked at him, confused before adding defensively. “Why? Do I look like I have a problem?”
The doctor held up a hand in a halt motion as a slight smile crossed his sexy lips. “Sorry, I didn’t mean you.
I meant the dog.”
Color flushed her face once more. “Oh. No, I’m Rory.” She motioned to the dog. “This is Xena. She was
limping on her left rear leg.”
“Okay, Xena, let’s have a look.” Attempting to hide his grin, he turned away sitting Xena on the floor. “Call
the little warrior princess. I need to see her walk.”
Studying the gait of the hobbling dog grew increasingly difficult the closer she came to her owner. His eyes
continuously moved, without permission to the brilliant, red haired owner. With each glance, the beating in
his chest would quicken and there would be uninvited movement in his pants. As she looked up and caught
his gaze on her, it was his turn to flush. What was it about this woman that was causing his temperature to
suddenly rise?
“That’s fine. Put her back on the table, please.” As she bent to pick up Xena, the sight of the firm muscles
moving under the tight faded jeans, made his dick do a little jerk. Most women he met went to extremes with
makeup and styles to impress, this woman was a natural beauty. The thick, wavy, red ponytail suited her
somewhat rounded face and high cheekbones. Sprinkles of tiny, light reddish freckles dotted her adorable
slightly turned up nose. However, it was her eyes that entranced him. When she smiled, they sparkled.
Emeralds couldn’t compare to their luminescent green. He mentally slapped himself. Professionalism
seemed to have flown out the window. Xena, the dog, was the patient.
Turning his attention to the chart, he cleared his throat. “Not to worry. Xena seems to be about six. Is that
right?”
“Yes. Is she going to be okay?” Rory’s voice cracked a bit with worry.
“I believe she’s suffering from Patellar Luxation, a problem with her knee cap. It’s a hereditary problem with
Bostons. I’ll give you some pills to help relax her, but she’ll be living with it off and on for the rest of her life.
There’s surgery, but if this is the first occurrence, I wouldn’t advise it yet.” Lifting Xena’s face to look in her
eyes, he couldn’t stop the little sigh. “You’re a lucky one, you have a pretty mom and will live with her for
many more years.”
Had she heard him correctly? Had this kid just called her pretty? When their eyes met, his were different
somehow. They were warm and friendly, but they also held something else. Was it lust? Was he flirting with
her? Of course not, how silly would that be? She was a middle-age woman, and he was a terribly attractive
young man.
Extending her hand, she gave him a warm smile, “Great. Well, thank you Doctor.”
Letting go of that hand proved to be more difficult than it should. Her hand was warm and soft. The scent of
lavender and something earthy, teased his nose, taking his mind and body into a dangerous area.
An older woman came into the examination room. From the smock she wore, it was obvious she was his
assistant. She pursed her lips before speaking to Dr. McGlocklin. “Zane, you have a call on line two. Should
I take a message?”
Continuing to hold Rory’s gaze, as well as her hand, he spoke to the nurse. “No, we’re just wrapping up. I’ll
take it. Little Xena here will need some medication.”
He reluctantly released Rory’s hand amused, yet confused at the physical charge the simple touch gave
him. Scribbling on a pad and handed it to the nurse he turned back to give Xena a last friendly pat. “Rory,
Emily will give you the medication and explain how to use them. Give us a call, if Xena has any problems.”
Picking up a couple of peppermints from the bowl by the door, he flashed that wickedly gorgeous smile as
he flipped one to her. “It was nice to meet you.”
Zane quickly exited the room. Given another moment or two he would certainly make a serious pass at this
woman. Reading the chart, ‘Mrs. Anderson’. Thank God, she was married.
Married, she was safely off limits. He might admire their looks, but that was as far as principles would let it
go. This one was different, almost scary. The complete package stirred him, smile, eyes, body, and oh
man, that scent. His penis gave a brief shutter of agreement. Over his thirty-nine years, he had managed to
avoid a real relationship. If this woman had been available, that status might be in danger of a radical
change. No denying this woman aroused something in him, something animalistic. Good thing he was a vet.
He snickered at his own little joke.
Damn that alarm. Rory wiggled under the silky sheet, desperately wanting to feel the unfamiliar heated
passion again. Refusing to open her eyes, she prayed sleep would return, even if only for a few moments.
The erotic effects of the dream lingered in spite of the annoying clock, as the snooze sounded again. Her
body and soul had reacted enthusiastically to the audacious scene that now slowly faded.
Never had a dream taken such an intriguing, yet uncharacteristic twist. Exhibitionism? The dim memory of
hundreds of unseen eyes, witnessing their amorous dance sent wet heat to her sweet center. The room’s
heat level rose decimals, as she recalled that hot, delectably rock hard, body pressing against her back as
the dark, enchanting music orchestrated their dance.
Squeezing her eyes shut, the residual essence of that muscular arm pressing the entire length of her body
to his, holding the embrace as their fingers entwined, sent a titillating shiver from toe to temple. Her back
arched as she recalled the touch of his fingers gently trailing along her neck, following the whispered path
of his peppermint-scented breath. Damn and damn again. Why hadn’t she turned to look into the face of
the man that had set every molecule of her passion to flame?
Double damn! The dream was gone. With eyes finally open, her wanton smile met the happy glints of red
and orange that streamed through the window. Even the afternoon sun offered a warm welcome home
embrace. With the passing of each dismal year, unwanted pounds had taken residence on her five-foot-
three frame. Each added pound had subtracted an equal measure of confidence. Now faced with a new
destiny and a second chance at happiness, the vibrant Rory of twenty years past, though buried under as
extra forty pounds, demanded liberty. Today was the first day of her redemption. Weight be damned, that
lost self-esteem, that lost effervescence would be reborn!
Her eyes fell to the simple gold band, forgotten on her finger. Barely noticeable, and like the lackluster
marriage it represented, easily overlooked. Light hearted, she moved from the bed, weaving through the
many boxes stacked harem-scarem around the room. Finding the one marked ‘Dresser’, she began to dig
through sweaters and lingerie revealing the treasure buried deep inside, a two-tier cherry wood jewelry box
handed down from her grandmother.
The tears that had mourned all those bad past decisions were only memories. Now joy and relief radiated
from the genuine smile that reflected in the dresser mirror. Excitement had begun to bloom, opening wide to
the prospects of the life yet to be. The fitting notes of the ‘Merry Widow’s Waltz’ floated from the jewelry
box, orchestrating the final ceremony. Raising her hand, she slid off her wedding band. Wiggling the
exonerated finger that now enjoyed the freedom from its entrapment, she placed the ring in one of the
velvet lined compartments. The lid closed, marking the exodus of Bryan and the completion of the second
phase of her life.
Revived by the brief afternoon nap, she switched back to the role of dedicated manual laborer. Within two
hours, the rear of the UHaul truck stood empty. With heart beating gleefully, and a smile that couldn’t be
scraped off, the final box was placed along the garage wall. With hands on hips in a mighty Peter Pan
stance, she examined the rewards of her diligent toils over the previous two weeks. A productive garage
sale took care of most of the unwanted furniture and appliances, as well as the kitchenware and no longer
worn clothes. Only thirty-eight boxes remained, holding the remnants of more than twenty years of a less
than impressive life.
The days had been warm and sunny since the decision was made to honor Texas again with her
citizenship. Anticipation had granted a surplus of energy, as she rose with the birds and continued long
after the sun had set. Excitement had grown with every box taped closed, each one a step closer to home,
to Texas. Now, finally, that was a reality and home she was.
Turning from the garage, a sad little whimper came from the sharp leaf bushes that lined the garage. A
small scuffling sound, along with more whimpering came from the bushes. The yard backed up to the wilds
and less than half mile inside the woods, a small stream flowed. A raccoon bite wouldn’t bode well on her
first day home; still an animal couldn’t be left to suffer. Rory stepped back wearily as the edge of the
bushes began to move, the animal crawled pitifully from under the thick bushes.
“Xena, what are you doing in the front yard?” Xena was Rory’s normally energetic Boston Terrier. Now, the
little dog showed no enthusiasm, pain and confusion clouded her eyes as she limped on three legs.
“You’re hurt.” Squatting down, she ran a hand over the little black and white dog’s body. There didn’t
appear to be any blood or external damage.
Rather than standing to receive the attention that was always demanded, the pup lay on its side, pitifully
nuzzled Rory’s hand. Even in pain, the little drama queen played on her mistress' sympathies, wanting the
petting to continue. Instead, Rory gathered the dog into her arms and hurried over to the car. It was
nearing five o’clock. “We need to get you checked out. Hopefully the vet will still be there.”
***
“Mrs. Anderson, I’m Dr. McGlocklin.”
Rory’s eyes widened as the veterinarian walked through the doorway of the sterile white examination room.
A rich, golden starburst radiated from the center of his brilliant blue eyes like a hypnotic charm. Those
distinctive eyes twinkled deliciously with his smile. Whether it was because of the eyes, the generous smile
or the masculine, sun-kissed face, she lost her train of thought. Turning to wash his large, strong hands,
the magnificent view of the room improved even more. Long hair had never attracted her before, but the
vision of her hands tangling in those thick, wavy, dark brown locks brought a hot blush to her cheeks.
Following the path his ponytail directed, pass broad shoulders, pass the small waist, straight to his
amazingly tight well-packed jeans, she dared not release her breath for fear it would come out in a gush.
“Oh shit.” She moaned under her breath as heat rose to her cheeks when he turned, connecting her eyes
with his healthy package.
His smirk while approaching the cold sterile, metal examination table implied the equipment appreciation
was a welcome complement, probably not the first he’d received. Xena had regained some of her vinegar
and was excitedly awaiting attention from a new playmate. “So what’s the problem with our little friend here?”
Rory’s eyes were glued to his sexy lips as he spoke. Years had passed since she had noticed a man as
more than just a human. This man was way more than just a human. Man? Was that a stretch? Damn.
Young, yes, probably just out of veterinary school, but ruggedly handsome and pure sex on a stick. Still,
checking out his left ring finger, and finding no ring, fueled her sudden fantasy about what could happen on
that cold metal examina….
“Mrs. Anderson?” Leaning a hip on the table, casually scratching Xena behind the ear, he smiled, waiting
for her answer.
“I’m sorry.” Damn, caught gawking again. Licking her dry lips, she stepped toward Xena, laying a hand on
the little dog’s back. “Rory.”
“So what’s the problem with Rory?”
She looked at him, confused before adding defensively. “Why? Do I look like I have a problem?”
The doctor held up a hand in a halt motion as a slight smile crossed his sexy lips. “Sorry, I didn’t mean you.
I meant the dog.”
Color flushed her face once more. “Oh. No, I’m Rory.” She motioned to the dog. “This is Xena. She was
limping on her left rear leg.”
“Okay, Xena, let’s have a look.” Attempting to hide his grin, he turned away sitting Xena on the floor. “Call
the little warrior princess. I need to see her walk.”
Studying the gait of the hobbling dog grew increasingly difficult the closer she came to her owner. His eyes
continuously moved, without permission to the brilliant, red haired owner. With each glance, the beating in
his chest would quicken and there would be uninvited movement in his pants. As she looked up and caught
his gaze on her, it was his turn to flush. What was it about this woman that was causing his temperature to
suddenly rise?
“That’s fine. Put her back on the table, please.” As she bent to pick up Xena, the sight of the firm muscles
moving under the tight faded jeans, made his dick do a little jerk. Most women he met went to extremes with
makeup and styles to impress, this woman was a natural beauty. The thick, wavy, red ponytail suited her
somewhat rounded face and high cheekbones. Sprinkles of tiny, light reddish freckles dotted her adorable
slightly turned up nose. However, it was her eyes that entranced him. When she smiled, they sparkled.
Emeralds couldn’t compare to their luminescent green. He mentally slapped himself. Professionalism
seemed to have flown out the window. Xena, the dog, was the patient.
Turning his attention to the chart, he cleared his throat. “Not to worry. Xena seems to be about six. Is that
right?”
“Yes. Is she going to be okay?” Rory’s voice cracked a bit with worry.
“I believe she’s suffering from Patellar Luxation, a problem with her knee cap. It’s a hereditary problem with
Bostons. I’ll give you some pills to help relax her, but she’ll be living with it off and on for the rest of her life.
There’s surgery, but if this is the first occurrence, I wouldn’t advise it yet.” Lifting Xena’s face to look in her
eyes, he couldn’t stop the little sigh. “You’re a lucky one, you have a pretty mom and will live with her for
many more years.”
Had she heard him correctly? Had this kid just called her pretty? When their eyes met, his were different
somehow. They were warm and friendly, but they also held something else. Was it lust? Was he flirting with
her? Of course not, how silly would that be? She was a middle-age woman, and he was a terribly attractive
young man.
Extending her hand, she gave him a warm smile, “Great. Well, thank you Doctor.”
Letting go of that hand proved to be more difficult than it should. Her hand was warm and soft. The scent of
lavender and something earthy, teased his nose, taking his mind and body into a dangerous area.
An older woman came into the examination room. From the smock she wore, it was obvious she was his
assistant. She pursed her lips before speaking to Dr. McGlocklin. “Zane, you have a call on line two. Should
I take a message?”
Continuing to hold Rory’s gaze, as well as her hand, he spoke to the nurse. “No, we’re just wrapping up. I’ll
take it. Little Xena here will need some medication.”
He reluctantly released Rory’s hand amused, yet confused at the physical charge the simple touch gave
him. Scribbling on a pad and handed it to the nurse he turned back to give Xena a last friendly pat. “Rory,
Emily will give you the medication and explain how to use them. Give us a call, if Xena has any problems.”
Picking up a couple of peppermints from the bowl by the door, he flashed that wickedly gorgeous smile as
he flipped one to her. “It was nice to meet you.”
Zane quickly exited the room. Given another moment or two he would certainly make a serious pass at this
woman. Reading the chart, ‘Mrs. Anderson’. Thank God, she was married.
Married, she was safely off limits. He might admire their looks, but that was as far as principles would let it
go. This one was different, almost scary. The complete package stirred him, smile, eyes, body, and oh
man, that scent. His penis gave a brief shutter of agreement. Over his thirty-nine years, he had managed to
avoid a real relationship. If this woman had been available, that status might be in danger of a radical
change. No denying this woman aroused something in him, something animalistic. Good thing he was a vet.
He snickered at his own little joke.