Operation V-Day Read online

  Operation V-Day

  Starla Kaye

  (c)2010 by Blushing Books(r) and Starla Kaye

  Copyright (c) 2010 by Blushing Books(r) and Starla Kaye

  All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books(r),

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  The trademark Blushing Books(r) is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Kaye, Starla

  Operation V-Day

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-183-8

  Cover Design by ABCD Graphics

  Blushing Publications thanks you whole-heartedly for your purchase with us!

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  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Chapter One

  You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. Valerie silently repeated the positive affirmation as she parked her new red corvette in the parking lot next to the towering office building that had been a big part of her life for five years. The nearly all glass structure was almost as cold looking as the January day itself. Another ice storm was predicted to hit Oklahoma City later in the day. She shivered, missing the far more comfortable weather in Maui. She was almost tempted to turn her car around, take the first flight back to her beloved island and abandon this crazy goal she'd set for the new year. Maybe she'd indulged in one too many Mai Tais. Maybe she was just being delusional.

  No! Get your butt out of the car and go face the lion in his den. In truth, she'd probably be facing a whole pride of lions up in the prestigious law firm of Hart, Shelby and Wilson. Starting with Abigail Jenkins, their combination receptionist/bouncer. Of course, the partners didn't see her as a "bouncer," but Valerie had seen the fifty-something, former Army Sergeant turned prim and proper ruler of the outer office in action. She guarded her employers fiercely...and she'd never liked Valerie.

  Valerie stepped out of her car, grabbed her fun new Betsy Johnson purse--which Abigail would hate on sight--and steeled her determination. Did she care what Abigail hated? Did she care if Abigail looked down her nose at her because the older woman hadn't deemed her worthy of marrying Jett Hart? No! At least not anymore. She'd spent six agonizing months apart from the man she loved but hadn't been able to live with, gone through two months of marriage counseling on her own, taken two months to come to terms with what she--not Jett or anyone else--wanted to do with her life, and survived two months of living through the horror of having filed for a divorce.

  New year. New plan for the future. Focus, Valerie. Only you can make this happen. The next seven weeks were going to be among the toughest in her life. By Valentine's Day she'd either win this battle, or move back to Maui with a permanently bruised heart. Not going to happen! She was a new woman, a more confident woman, and she knew exactly what she wanted now: Jett Hart, even with his flaws and annoying Alpha tendencies.

  As she pushed open the door to the offices of Hart, Shelby and Wilson a few minutes later, Valerie fought the urge to wrinkle her nose in dislike for the horrible tastes of the firm's interior decorator. Talk about cold and distancing! Okay, a local magazine had proclaimed their offices as "elegantly tasteful with a touch of modernism." Whatever. She knew cold and uncomfortable when she saw it. Gray marble floors polished to a perfect shine, not a footprint to be seen. Ebony end tables and reception counter that could no doubt pass a "white glove" test. And black leather chairs with rigid backs and only a slim inch of padding on the seats. But the grim domain fit the lioness behind the reception counter and now glowering in Valerie's direction.

  "Mrs. Hart ... Valerie..." Abigail, as always stylishly polished in a black suit, white blouse, and graying hair pulled tightly back into a bun at her neck, struggled with how to greet her.

  Nerves were zapping like crazy in Valerie's stomach. She fought the need to rub it in an attempt to soothe away the tension she felt. She refused to show weakness. Instead she stiffened her shoulders and casually asked, "Is my husband in a meeting now?"

  Her use of my husband threw the other woman off. "He's just finishing a meeting with his partners." She glanced at the computer monitor in front of her and quickly added, "He has another meeting out of the office in an hour and a number of important phone calls to return before he can leave." It was clear by her tone of voice that there was no way in hell Valerie had a chance of seeing her husband.

  Want to bet on that, Sergeant Abigail? Valerie hadn't spent the last two weeks stressing over her decision and flying all this way back to the land of ice and frigidly cold days to be put off so easily. She was not the same young woman who had left here all those months ago. "I intend to see Jett, so I'd better go to his office quickly then." She could be equally determined.

  She hefted her hot pink satin with colorful candy pieces satchel to her shoulder, noting the look of distaste on Abigail's face. Then she walked briskly across the marbled floor toward the hallway leading to the partners' offices.

  Abigail was out of her chair and blocking the way in a flash. She looked down her long nose. "I can check Mr. Hart's schedule and make you an appointment. For later in the week."

  "Or you can stop wasting my time and step out of the way. I'm going to see Jett. Now. Understand?" This forceful side of her was still new, but with the way Abigail's mouth gaped at her attitude, Valerie was going to fully embrace her new side. "Move it."

  The door at the end of the hall opened and Aaron Shelby and Tom Wilson walked out of Jett's corner office. Both men looked in their direction, having clearly overheard at least part of the brisk conversation. They did twin double-takes when they spotted Valerie. Other than being surprised, though, she saw no open signs of hostility. She dared to breathe a sigh of relief at that. One potential stumbling block down.

  "Valerie, it's good to see you," Aaron said, giving her a weak, forced smile. "But I'm not sure Jett has time--"

  "Maybe you can come back another time," Tom inserted.

  Okay, she'd misjudged that stumbling block falling over. It was only leaning. "I won't destroy his schedule; only add a teeny tiny interruption to it." She darted around Abigail and walked rapidly toward the two uncomfortable looking men. "I am going to see him, though."

  The person who everyone appeared to be trying to shield from her stepped into his doorway. She froze less than ten feet away. Her knees had gone mushy, but she'd gone hot everywhere else. Sex-in-a-$1,000 suit immediately came to mind. She'd always thought he was delicious to look at, wickedly tempting. In the months since she'd last seen him, he'd only gotten sexier. His once carefully trimmed black hair was now worn in something barely longer than a buzz cut, clearly he'd given up attempting to hide the fact that his hairline was receding. He'd also adopted the sinfully sexy just past five-o'clock shadow look. Yummmmmmmy. For having just turned forty... Well, wow! She wanted him more than her next breath. If Abigail and his partners weren't in her way, she might have run those few feet more and jumped his bones right then and there.

  "I've got about a minute," Jett said in a tone meaning that was absolutely all he would give her.

  She put her fantasies aside and pranced confidently-
-at least she hoped she appeared confident--toward him. Aaron and Tom glanced back at Jett and then headed for their own offices in awkward silence. Abigail, too, went back to her desk, but not before she gave an unladylike snort of disapproval.

  Jett stood rigidly tall and commanding in the doorway, but she noted a hint of uncertainty in his dark chocolate eyes. She latched onto that uncertainty, that tiny hint of hope, and moved by him into his plush, teak wood and chrome office. She didn't have to see him to know he'd slowly swept his gaze over her from the red stiletto heels she wore, up her legs, to her tailored black skirt that stopped at mid-thigh. She felt the heat of his gaze, heard the sharp intake of his breath when she'd accidentally-on-purpose brushed her arm against him. She also knew he'd be watching the sway of her hips, so she gave him an added sway as she walked across the room to stop in front of the desk that seemed to fill half the office.

  It took him a second, but as she faced him, he said, "I signed the papers already." He sounded grim and oddly hurt. "Didn't your attorney get them to you?"

  The hint of pain in his voice got to her, gave her hope that maybe--with a great deal of patience on her part, she was sure--her plan would work. She opened her satchel and pulled out the large envelope she'd stuffed inside. His expression was hard as he watched her, his jaw tight with tension. Her palms were sweating and her heart beating so rapidly she prayed she wouldn't wimp out and have a heart attack.

  You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

  "Valerie," he prompted.

  His impatience put her in action. She opened the envelope and dumped small bits of paper out onto his perfectly neat desk. "It seems the papers had a bit of a shredding accident."

  He reached out to finger some of the shredded divorce papers, and then lifted a frustrated face to look at her. "You wanted this."

  Valerie shrugged, although her stomach was knotted. "Woman, remember. We tend to change our minds."

  He'd looked vulnerable for a second, now he looked almost angry. "Men don't. I signed the papers. You can't--"

  She shifted toe-to-toe with him, still being a good six inches shorter, cutting him off, "I'm not giving up on us just yet. On you."

  "You sure as hell did six months ago!" His expression had darkened even more. The hurt of her having walked out on him flamed in his eyes.

  "You didn't come after me," she countered. She'd waited patiently for him to come to his senses and come get her, but he was stubborn bone deep. So she'd given up on waiting for him and come back on her own. "We can discuss it tonight at home."

  He stepped back, a frown furrowing his brow. Evidently he hadn't known he was supposed to come after her. Men could be so dense sometimes.

  "I'm not sure I can forgive you." He gave her an all too familiar look, and then walked determinedly to the door and shut it.

  She'd never feared that look, not exactly liked it...but never feared it. This was a part of who he was, of how he dealt with her. It was part of his love for her, he'd once explained. And because she loved him--had always loved him--she remained semi-calm and waiting.

  "I don't have time to do this properly." He walked back, grim. "Believe me, if you're at my home when I get there tonight, this will be done properly."

  "Our home," Valerie corrected him.

  Pain flashed in his eyes again, and she knew that she had a lot of making up to do before things would be right between them. And it would be. She'd discovered a stubborn streak in herself that she hadn't known was there before.

  "As I said, I don't have much time now. And this isn't the place for a spanking." He took her purse and set it aside, and then turned her toward the desk. "You know I have to do this. At least once."

  "I know." She just hoped he held to that limitation, and she hoped no one else heard. Her face flamed in embarrassment as it always had when he meant to punish her. She bent forward to rest her forearms on the desk, thrusting her bottom out as he wanted.

  He lifted her skirt onto her back and she braced herself for the first swat of his hand in nearly a year. Again she worried about the loud sound of flesh connecting soundly with flesh. But he walked quickly around the desk and took a plastic ruler from the top drawer.

  But it wasn't relief she felt at the quietness of the Swack! It was burning pain.

  Two more Swacks! landed and she sucked in a breath.

  Then he tugged her skirt back into place and picked up her purse as she straightened. "Like I said..."

  Valerie gave a quick rub to soothe the sting and met his warning gaze. "Nasty thing, that ruler. But I'll be there when you get home."

  She turned and walked out of the office and down the hallway. He'd spanked her in his office before, but no one else had been in the suite. Oddly, she felt a warmth between her legs, a tingling of excitement. She gave a curt nod to Abigail as she left, and wondered what the prissy woman would think if she knew that her very well-respected and powerful attorney boss spanked his wife. As naughtily delicious as the idea was, she'd still prefer to keep her being an occasionally spanked wife their secret.

  Jett had trouble focusing on the phone conversations after Valerie left his office. He couldn't believe she'd come back from Maui and the paradise she'd escaped to six months ago after their last argument. She'd taken four months after that to start divorce proceedings. He'd been devastated--and angry--when he'd returned from a business conference and found her packed and gone. But when he'd been served with divorce papers... Well, he'd just gone numb from the pain. He'd become a serious workaholic, even more than she'd previously accused him of being. He'd lost weight, until finally his partners had started harassing him about needing to take care of himself. Just lately he'd come to terms with spending the rest of his life alone. He couldn't even think about marrying again. Valerie was it for him.

  "You want me to take that meeting for you?" Aaron asked, stopping in Jett's office doorway as he was finally hanging up from the last call he needed to return.

  "No, but thanks." He needed to keep working. He wasn't ready to face Valerie again.

  "Why did she come here? Trying to get more in the divorce? She should have had her lawyer deal with it," Aaron sounded defensive, protective.

  Jett shook his head, still pretty stunned by what had happened here only a half hour ago. "She shredded the papers and brought them to me." He hesitated before adding, "She's moved back home, or so she said."

  Aaron's eyes widened. "No shit?"

  "No shit." Jett stood and grabbed his briefcase from the corner of his desk. "She said something about not giving up on us. But then she did just that six months ago, didn't she?"

  "You don't have to take her back, you know."

  No, he supposed, he didn't. At least that's what the lawyer in him believed. The man who loved her so ridiculously much said he didn't have a choice. Instead of admitting that, though, to his partner and friend, he said, "I'll see how things go."

  "I'd be pretty damn mad, if I were in your shoes." Aaron gave a nod and walked back to his office, understanding that Jett needed to leave for his appointment.

  "I am pretty damn mad," Jett agreed in a tone low enough that Aaron wouldn't hear. "And her sweet little ass is going to feel some of the pain I've been suffering all these months. Tonight."

  Valerie had been wandering around the enormous Mediterranean contemporary house that Jett called "home" for several hours since her awkward visit to his office. The place with its decorative columns, carved stone archways, imported marble flooring, and dark museum quality furniture in most of the rooms would never feel like a "home" to her. Her husband had inherited the estate from his parents and he'd already been living there when they married. He hadn't seen any sense in selling the estate and purchasing something that more fit their tastes. They'd argued about that fact many times during their four years of marriage. She still hated the place, but she had some ideas on how to make it more "Valerie and Jett" oriented. Okay, mainly more her. They'd probably argue--he was an attorney, after all,
and that's what they did: argue--about the changes. She'd no doubt need to endure a session or two or more over his knee because she would make the changes. In the end, she knew he would live with them. He was just a man who liked things to be his idea or the rest of the world suffered his pissy attitude for a while.

  She'd put her clothes in the small guest suite in the opposite wing of the house from the master suite. After seeing Jett earlier and experiencing the same fiery attraction she'd always had to him, she'd really wanted to settle into their bedroom. But she knew he wouldn't be ready for that. So she'd decided to give him space, for a while. He was too passionate of a man to maintain his physical distance from her for long. And she'd seen the flash of heat in his eyes when he'd finished that awkward spanking at the office. That heat had not all been anger.

  Stopping her impatient stroll through the house in the dark and depressing--in her opinion--kitchen, she glanced at the clock on the microwave. Nearly six o'clock. He would be coming home soon. This would not be a pleasant evening, for either of them. Her especially. But what had to be, had to be. She caught her reflection in the silver-fronted, restaurant-sized refrigerator and annoying butterflies again took flight in her stomach. She was taking a big chance on starting things off this way. But one night when they'd been seriously tipsy on champagne and each other, Jett had admitted some of his secret fantasies to her. She'd never forgotten them, although they'd never discussed them after that time. And she'd never told him that his fantasies had actually turned her on as well.

  She rubbed at the nerves in her stomach and prayed she wasn't making a huge mistake here. All she wanted was to save her marriage, in any and all ways that it took. Besides, she'd kind of gotten into gathering her supplies for this part of her battle plan to win him back. She'd always liked dressing up at Halloween. Wearing a few costumes to entice her husband...Well, she was looking forward to positive responses. Maybe not tonight, but soon. Very soon.