Page 51 of Sinful Temptations

My mind whirled with disbelief.

My body, however, sang a spectacular post-climax melody.

I began to giggle. Soon my giggle was a full-blown laugh with my boobs making waves across the water.

It felt so good. I felt good. I felt fucking amazing.

Reluctantly, I dragged myself from the water. Floating on an air of wonderful, I wrapped the towel around me and forced my legs to take me back to my room.

Once inside, I stripped out of my wet bathers and was just about to hop into the shower when the phone rang. I raced to grab it from my bag, thinking it was Roman checking up on me, a smile blazed across my lips.

My smile obliterated when I saw the number. Mother.

Shit!

ChapterEleven

Slumping onto the bed, I debated over whether or not to answer mother’s call. I let it ring out, but she forced my decision when she rang again. She wouldn’t give up. I counted out the rings—six, seven, ten. It went on forever. My relief when it stopped was short-lived because it rang yet again.

Biting back frustration, I jabbed the green button. “Hello, Mother.”

“Daisy, you answered. How lovely.”

I wanted to say it wasn’t lovely at all, she’d given me no choice, but I bit back my response, choosing instead to remain silent. Mother would fill in the silence anyway.

“I’m so glad I got you, Daisy. I’m really sick.”

She did sound ill.

During my childhood, I’d seen mother apply makeup to enhance her pale skin and darken her rimmed eyes to fool many unsuspecting men with her pretend illnesses. But her voice had never lied. Now, though, it sounded like she’d eaten a rusty razor blade.

“I can’t stop vomiting.”

Pacing the room back and forth, listening to her wheezing, I wished I felt even an ounce of sympathy for her. What did that make me? Callous? Evil?

While she rambled on in disjointed sentences punctuated with bouts of wheezing that sounded painful, unprecedented levels of concern for her filtered through me.

Was I about to lose my only family member?

And if I was, was I ready?

There was no possible way to answer those questions. For years, Mother had already been dead to me. Now that she really was close to death, it had a different meaning.

After a bout of coughing that ended with her crying, my resolve crumbled. “You’ll be okay, Mom.”

I hadn’t called her Mom since I left Australia all those years ago. I’d taken to calling her mother instead; it seemed more appropriate for a woman I didn’t love.

“No, Daisy. That’s what you don’t understand. I’m not okay.” She burst into a wracking cough. When the phone went dead, my mind went into overdrive analyzing why she would have hung up.

I felt awful. She really was sick, and I’d showed no compassion. What kind of a daughter was I?

I needed Zali. Keying in a quick text to say hello, I hit send.

Hey, luvvy, I was just thinking about you. How you going?

Not so good. Mother phoned me

Shit. What’s up with her?

---