Destined to Play

Destined to Play
Indigo Bloome

‘It’s simple. No sight. No questions. 48 hours.’An intensely charged erotic journey, perfect for anyone who was seduced by 50 Shades of Grey.When 37-year-old psychologist, Alexandra Blake, leaves her comfortable suburban existence to give a series of lectures , she meets up with Dr Jeremy Quinn, the man who opened her eyes and body to the world in ways she never thought possible.After a few glasses of champagne in his luxurious hotel penthouse, he presents her with an extraordinary proposition. Alexandra knows that they never promise each other something they can’t commit to and that he will challenge her every inhibition.But she soon finds herself seduced into a level of surrender – and danger – she could never have imagined.Destined to Play is the first book in the Avalon trilogy exploring the intricate relationships between trust and betrayal, desire and love, risk … and reward. If you liked 50 Shades of Grey, you will love Destined to Play.

Destined To Play

Indigo Bloom

For my mum, whose unconditional love, support and nurturing since birth has enabled me to live my dreams many times over.

‘Do you ever feel like you were destined to play?’

‘Only in my dreams …’

Table of Contents

Title Page (#u4a3bed87-7935-552e-9cf1-2af3ccf09a72)

Dedication (#u48de3ad6-2775-541a-806e-166aaa54ff5b)

Epigraph (#ue4f23489-3b18-562b-a873-67e31f712965)

Preface (#ube039fee-2419-5036-a42c-d06c78c1ab28)

Part I (#u8f983230-68ca-5a71-b3c8-7f9050861f6d)

Part II (#uded74940-3078-5a2f-8819-6d7ea7c89c93)

Part III (#litres_trial_promo)

Part IV (#litres_trial_promo)

Part V (#litres_trial_promo)

Part VI (#litres_trial_promo)

Part VII (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Author’s Note (#litres_trial_promo)

Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Preface

If I had known then what I know now, would it be any different?

I’m not sure why or how my life changed so dramatically so fast, yet it continues as if nothing has changed at all. It began with one weekend that perhaps, in hindsight, should never have happened, but deep in my soul I have a vague nagging that it was always meant to be …

This leaves me embroiled within a psychological and sexual tornado that landed without any advance warning or forecast — or maybe I just missed the signs? Either way, what has happened, has happened, what will be, will be. I just don’t know how it will end, or whether I will survive the journey.

Part I

‘No ordinary work done by a man is either as hard or as responsible as the work of a woman who is bringing up a family of small children; for upon her time and strength demands are made not only every hour of the day but often every hour of the night.’

— Theodore Roosevelt

I’m pretty sure I have everything organised for the family before I walk out the door.

Kids’ bags packed.

Extra food prepared.

Outdoor gear organised.

Jordan and Elizabeth are going on their first wilderness expedition for a week with all the dads charged with helping out given the nature of outdoor activities they will be pursuing. Great idea from a mother’s perspective, but we all know in our hearts we will miss them from the first night they are away. The kids were devastated when the expedition was almost cancelled due to a lack of funding and support for the Tasmanian Wilderness Foundation. Thankfully, some last-minute sponsorship from the Fathers4Kids program enabled the expedition to take place after all. The kids are so excited. Actually when I think about it Robert, my husband, seems more awakened and engaged by this adventure than I have seen him in years. Must have something to do with men and their exploring tendencies — the mysteriousness of the confounding thylacine providing the perfect avenue — or maybe he is just happy to be away from me. Either way, he’s excited too and they haven’t been able to sleep in anticipation of the great adventure traversing the west coast of Tasmania’s wilderness in search of the elusive Tasmanian tiger.

I’ve decided to make the most of the children’s absence from my life to complete a series of lectures I had been deferring for the last few months until the ‘time felt right’, so I’m preparing to fly to Sydney, Brisbane, Perth and Melbourne to deliver my latest findings to postgraduate students, academics and other professionals in their given field of expertise.

I now really need to focus on getting myself organised for the first lecture this afternoon in Sydney. Mentally, I go through my checklist — I have my notes, slides, discussion themes, workshop challenges, laptop and mobile phone, so all good. I am still fascinated by the research I have been conducting on visual stimulation and its impact on the development of perception and even now I find my mind wandering off and becoming lost in my work, considering a different spin on some of the provocative challenges I have developed for the lectures …

All of a sudden, I become intensely aware of butterflies in my stomach, so much so, I have to lean against the kitchen bench to steady myself. How strange; I never usually get nervous before giving lectures, quite the opposite, as I really enjoy it. The challenge of engaging new minds, intellects sparring with one another on a quest for deeper, broader knowledge — fantastic! But where on earth are these butterflies coming from?

I pause for a moment to investigate these feelings and attempt to locate their source, which might seem strange to some people, but it is something that has always intrigued me. They are more intense than usual, and it certainly isn’t the lecture making me feel this way. Perhaps it is the trip away from family. No, it is not as if I haven’t been away from them before, particularly for work purposes. I broaden my mindset to include the rest of the weekend when I stop suddenly — as my stomach flips again. I surprise myself as I instinctively inhale at the thought of my 5.00 p.m. meeting at the Hotel InterContinental with Jeremy.

Doctor Jeremy Quinn. My uni buddy, my best friend, the man who opened my eyes and my body to the world in ways I never considered possible. He knew me inside and out when we were younger and we shared an incredible array of experiences during our time together. It is hard to believe after all of our tomfoolery during many years at university, that Jeremy is now one of the most respected, pre-eminent medical research doctors in Australasia — I can’t bring myself to say ‘the world’ because it’s Jeremy, after all. He has just returned from presenting ground-breaking research at Harvard University with Emeritus Professor E. Applegate.

Jeremy always had a knack for pushing conventional boundaries and wisdom, continually searching for the unknown, the unexpected or unanticipated solutions to some of our most insurmountable medical problems. I even read in a newspaper article recently that he had been in meetings with none other than Melinda and Bill Gates in conjunction with his and Professor Applegate’s research in New York. It seems as if he is certainly mixing it with the global movers and shakers. I suppose, on reflection, he always had the determination and potential to achieve mastery in his chosen field. It is amazing what he has achieved in less than forty years of life. He is an exceptionally gifted human being, intellectually and emotionally, and people just adore his company. No doubt all these traits, along with his hard work, have enabled the success he is now hopefully enjoying.

My career needs to fit in with my family life, well, the kids really; Jeremy’s career is his life, more or less. He has always been tenacious about his quest for sourcing medical cures and has been involved in discoveries that the western world almost takes for granted these days. With that sort of personal motivation and drive, it’s not surprising he hasn’t had time to settle down or find anyone special to share his life with. At least I’m not aware of anyone. He has always attracted interest from the opposite sex, like a George Clooney of the medical world; he certainly doesn’t suffer from lack of attention.

Anyway, that’s what is making my stomach do flips, which is utterly ridiculous at my age. I allow myself a small smile as I find it mildly amusing I am still capable of that sort of fluttering teenage reaction. I am excited and a little nervous about seeing him after so long. The memories of our university days still flood my mind and haunt me whenever I’m alone and in a dark sensual mood, usually in the early hours of the morning …

What is happening to me? I’m going to miss the plane if I don’t get moving!

‘Right, kids? Where are you? I need kisses and cuddles before I leave — I won’t see you for ten whole days!’ Big family hugs all round. I tell them I love them more than life itself and wish them a fabulous adventure in the wild west as they endeavour to track that elusive tiger; apparently legend has it there have been recent sightings. No doubt a camp of school kids is just what they need to be discovered again! However, the kids’ excitement and optimism filters through regardless.

‘And keep safe,’ I declare, promising that I can’t wait to hear every detail of their experience when I return.

I hear the honk of a horn indicating my taxi’s arrival and do my last-minute check to ensure I have everything I need. I am thankful the butterflies have finally subsided. My lips barely touch my husband’s cheek as I tell him to take excellent care of my children and ensure he keeps them safe. A fleeting thought passes through my brain wondering when our relationship became so plastic, so platonic … I have too many things on my mind to delve further and quickly wish them all a wonderful adventure as he dutifully places my bag in the car and I wave goodbye, blowing kisses to the kids from my window as the taxi pulls out of the drive, airport bound.

***