Free My Charming Valentine by Maggie Ryan Page B

rub the spot.
    “Because, my
love, you are screwing with my schedule.”
    “Oh, I thought I
was screwing the director,” she teased as she wiggled off of him. Another
squeal came as the result of another harder swat before she could climb off the
bed. She ran to the door of the bathroom and turned back. “By the way, did I
get the part?”
    His answer was
to walk towards her, his eyes roaming up and down her body. Reaching her, he
slid his hands around her waist. She melted against his chest as he bent to
kiss her. He pushed his tongue between her lips and felt hers tangling with his
and her hand dropped to encircle his cock.
    Patrick pulled
back and grinned. “Hmm, you don’t seem quite innocent enough to be my ingénue,
but you’ve definitely got the part of the woman I’ll love forever.”
    “That’s the only
role I wish to play.”
    An hour later,
they had showered and dressed and were in the kitchen. Patrick handed her a mug
of coffee he’d made using their Keurig before making his own. When she moved to
the refrigerator and took out the carton of eggs, he shook his head.
    “No cooking
today.”
    “But I’m
starving,” she protested as he took the carton and put it back.
    “Then, I suggest
you start the game.”
    “You’re really
serious? I thought maybe we’d already played.” When he shook his head, she
grinned. “Since you said there are no switches, I’m game.”
    “Ah, ah,”
Patrick said, shaking his finger at her. “I never said there were no switches.
I said that depended upon you. What I did say was that you will assume the role
of one of your favorite characters. I’ll also say this will be a game where you
and I will travel down memory lane.” He grinned. “Oh, and there are prizes.”
    Her smile showed
she was intrigued. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
    Patrick shook
his head and beckoned to her. She took his hand and allowed him to settle her
onto the couch.
    “Don’t move,” he
instructed.
    “Ah, we’re
playing freeze tag!”
    Patrick chuckled
as he left the room. He returned balancing one of her silver serving trays on
the palm of one hand. A bud vase held a single rose. Beside it lay a red
envelope, her name written in silver script across the front.
    Smiling, she
bent forward to sniff the heady fragrance of the flower before picking up the
envelope. She looked up, her eyes bright. “May I open it?”
    “Please,” he
said, putting the tray on the coffee table and taking a seat beside her. She opened
the envelope and pulled out a heavy piece of parchment that was folded in half.
    Looking up, she
grinned. “I’m playing the part of Sherlock Holmes… or am I supposed to be
Watson?”
    Patrick shook
his head. She had a tendency to go with the first thing that popped into her
head. She’d need to restrain that tendency. Tapping the paper, he read the
written phrase aloud. “ The Game is Afoot
– what does that mean?”
    She looked down
and he could swear he could hear gears turning in her head. After a moment, she
smiled. “Well, it was a play, but since this is a game, I’m guessing you are
going with the definition that game means some sort of diversion?”
    Patrick was
impressed. “Yes, but not exactly a diversion. More like a game where you will
use your mind to solve clues. Perhaps I should tell you the rules.”
    “There are
rules?”
    “There are
always rules, my dear. And, of course, consequences for breaking those rules.”
    “I thought there
were prizes.”
    “Staying with
the Sherlock theme, the prizes are really ‘spoils’. The only rule is that the
outcome of the game depends on your skills. If you are successful, you’ll have
plenty of bounty. Every time you need assistance, there will be a penalty to
pay.” He gave her a moment, but when she remained silent, he continued. “You told
me that you used to pretend you were this girl and loved to solve puzzles. This
is my attempt to let you relive a bit of your favorite