What White Boyz Want

What White Boyz Want By Bridget Midway Lena Matthews Seressia Glass Raquel Taylor Simone Harlow Parker Publishing, LLC www.Parker-Publishing.com

Parker Publishing LLC Noire Passion is an imprint of Parker Publishing LLC. Copyright © 2007 by Bridget Midway, Lena Matthews, Seressia Glass, Raquel Taylor, Simone Harlow. Published by Parker Publishing LLC 12523 Limonite Avenue, Suite #440-438 Mira Loma, California 91752 www.parker-publishing.com All rights reserved. This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, locations, events and incidents (in either a contemporary and/or historical setting) are products of the author’s imagination and are being used in an imaginative manner as a part of this work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, settings, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ISBN: 978-1-60043-029-9 First Edition Manufactured in the United States of America Cover Design by Jaxadora Design

Dedications This story is dedicated to everyone trying to find their perfect fit. Sometimes love is right in front of you. Open your eyes to discover the possibilities. Bridget Midway Dedicated to the lovely ladies of the Maggie Casper and Lena Matthews forum. You make every day a better day. Lena Matthews To Jackie Hamilton, because she’s just as crazy as I am. Also, to the ladies of Slam Jam Miami Beach--this story might sound a little familiar to some of you! Seressia Glass To my mother, Dorothy JeanTaylor, without whom none of this would be possible. I love you. Raquel Taylor For Stephanie, Raquel and Crystal. What a pleasure it was to be naughty with you. For Seressia, Yes my dear I can finally say this was your toaster. Simone Harlow

Bitter Ball by Bridget Midway

Bridget Midway

Chapter One “Damn! Damn! Damn!” Danika threw her broken stiletto on the floor. “What’s wrong?” Her mother’s voice sounded clear through her computer speakers. To have her mother agree to have phone conversations via webcam surprised Danika. Her mother wasn’t known for being the at-home type. “The heel on my shoe just broke.” Danika limped into her walk-in closet. “Now I’ll have to wear a different pair, which means wearing a different dress.” Danika stripped out of the comfortable, pearl-colored empire-waist gown and dumped it on the closet floor. “That might be a good thing, honey. That dress looked like something Queen Elizabeth would wear.” Even in the closet, Danika heard her mother tsking. For a party animal, her mother sure knew how to bring her down. “You really couldn’t get a real feel for the dress through the camera, Mom.” She coasted her hand over a row of gowns. “What did I tell you? You’re grown. Call me Tova.” Danika rolled her eyes. Why her mother thought it would be cool for Danika to call her by her first name, she would never know. “We can be friends,” Tova once said. Danika didn’t need a friend. She needed her mom to be Mom. Searching for another dress to wear tonight, she needed a bit of both. The purple one? No, purple meant passion, or so her mother, or rather Tova, had told her years ago. Although it was Valentine’s Day, Danika was in no mood for passion. Today was about business, or maybe charity was a better description. Danika snorted. “Just because I’m going to a Valentine’s Day ball, even if it’s an anti-Valentine’s Day, doesn’t mean I have to dress like I’m looking for love.” She touched her red dress. “It would be nice though.” She dropped her hand on the strapless red gown with a bejeweled, skinny belt around the waist. It was a fairytale princess dress if she ever saw one. “Why don’t you wear the red dress?” Tova asked. 5

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Danika moved her hand over to a long black dress she knew her mother hated. Tova called it her Morticia Addams dress. “That dress hasn’t been cleaned,” Danika replied, hoping beyond hope that Tova wouldn’t call her on the tall tale. “Whatever you do, please don’t put on that--” Danika stepped out of the closet wearing the long-sleeved dress. The clear twenty-one-inch screen displayed her mother’s gorgeous dark mahogany skin tone and the horrified grimace that came as soon as she saw Danika in the outfit. “Morticia Addams rides again.” Her mother shook her newly shorn head. With her brazenness and overabundance of confidence, her mother still looked gorgeous. “It’s clean. It’s ironed. And I have shoes that match it.” Danika sat down on the edge of her bed and slipped her feet into her black strappy stilettos. “You know, honey, it’s not all about perfect matches. You could have worn red shoes or black shoes with that dress.” Danika fastened the strap around one ankle. “I bought those shoes for the dress. If I substituted them for another pair, it wouldn’t have been the same.” “To you. No one else would have known the difference. All you would have to do is to strut into that dance with all of the confidence in the world and no one would look at your feet.” “You could do that, Mom.” Danika lowered her voice as she bent down further to fasten her other shoe. “You always could.” She raised her head. “Look, it’s just a social gathering. I don’t even know why I bothered buying a new dress or getting new shoes.” Another lie. In everything Danika did in life, she had a plan. Tonight she would help her friend G.T. Pithall find the right woman. Helping her hapless Bubba buddy would be the perfect distraction from her own lonely state. Wait. Not lonely. Choosy. Picky. Selective. Hell, who was she kidding? Lonely and searching. Every time Danika thought she met her Mr. Right, some drama quickly followed. There was the Mr. Right with an outstanding warrant. Then the Mr. Right with children all over the place, and more on the way. And the 6

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last Mr. Right who was hunting for his own Mr. Right. If all of the guys she’d dated were like G.T., minus the awe-shucks attitude and the rolled up Farmer’s Almanac in his back pocket, she would have had a winner. She wanted someone as funny as G.T., as kind as him and who was down-to-earth but loved being in the city. “I’m not taking this party seriously.” Danika stood and smoothed out her dress. “That’s what I’m talking about. It’s a goof, honey,” her mother said. “The Bitter Ball is a party that says, ‘So what I don’t have a date for Valentine’s? I still love myself enough to strut my stuff.’” That’s when Tova stood and swayed her hips back and forth. Too bad she was naked. “Mom, what if I had company?” Danika covered the screen with her hands. “Lighten up. Sometimes I find it hard to believe that you’re my daughter. You act more like--” Danika dropped her hands and stared into the screen, waiting for her mother to make some mention of her father. They had only been divorced for five years, but Danika knew there was still something there, something worth salvaging. “—a banker,” her mother said. Danika let out a long breath. “That is what I am. I’m a banker. I’m a black woman. I’m single. And, quite frankly, Mother, I’m tired of it.” “Tired of being black?” Her mother chuckled. “Funny. You know what I’m saying. I want that happily-ever-after ending.” Danika had never seen her mother glare at her like she was now. A shiver crawled up her spine, a response she hadn’t had since her mother scolded her for staying out past her curfew when she was seventeen. “Happily ever after doesn’t exist. Trust me.” She sucked her teeth. Before Danika could argue the case for finding perfect matches, Tova continued. “Instead of trying to recreate someone’s past, why not create a wonderful future for yourself? You don’t have to rush into a relationship and marriage because you’re at a certain age and it’s expected.” “Don’t you ever miss Dad?” Her mother wrinkled her nose. “Miss him? We run in the same party circles so I see him all of the time. Besides, he and I are too much alike to 7

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want to settle down.” “Maybe then you two could be happy running around together. What’s so wrong with having a normal life anyway?” “Nothing. It’s great if you’re a Republican.” Tova laughed. Then her face became deathly serious. “Oh God. You’re not a Republican now, are you? I raised you better than that.” Danika, aware of her mother’s tactic of steering from any conversation about Danika’s father, jumped on another topic, one she knew would rile her. “No, I’m not a Republican. Not yet.” She winked. “Besides, aren’t you ready to hear the pitter-patter of little feet?” “Hush your mouth! I’m too young to be a grandmother.” Danika slipped on an oversized silver bracelet on her wrist and clipped on matching silver-and-diamond hoop earrings. “And pretty soon I’ll be too old to have children.” She slid a ring on the ring finger of her right hand, a special gift she’d bought for herself for last year’s Bitter Ball. “Give me a break. You see on the news all of the time about women in their forties and fifties having children. Enjoy your life now and stop investing in knitting needles.” Danika fought the urge to disconnect the computer. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I love you, sweetie. You are the light of my life. When I go through bad patches, you’re always my anchor. I couldn’t have gone on without you during some of my rougher times.” “I hear a ‘but’ coming.” “But sometimes you act like you are just too good for the world. Then you want to come off like you’re the parent and I’m your child. It needs to go back to the way it was.” The smile drifted from Danika’s face. “I’m responsible, and I care.” A pause lingered before her mother spoke. “You act like you have a stick up your ass.” So much for a serious conversation. Tova stretched her arms over her head, exposing her breasts again. “When you go out tonight, just have fun. Don’t scope out potential husbands. Talk about a show stopper.” Danika smiled, but she was a woman on a mission. “Don’t worry. Tonight I’m looking for the right woman.” Her mother’s face registered 8

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shock and confusion. “Wow, Dani.” Danika had never seen her mother’s eyes get so wide. “What?” “Are you coming out?” Danika gritted her teeth and hoped she didn’t crack her molars in the process. “No, I’m not a lesbian. I decided that tonight instead of concentrating on finding that great guy, I’m going to find someone for a friend of mine.” “Sounds romantic. Will you schedule their sex lives, too, or will they be allowed to be spontaneous?” Too bad sarcasm wasn’t diluted through the new phone either. “Three times a week. That’s all they’ll have.” Danika winked. “I’m finally following your advice. You’ve always said that when you look for love, you never find it. I figured if I’m so busy hooking my friends up, then when love comes a-knockin’, it’ll be a pleasant surprise.” “What happened to you trying to have fun tonight?” “Seeing my friends happy is fun for me.” After five years of attending the Bitter Ball, Danika had had enough of it. The whole idea of the party meant she had no prospects. One thing she didn’t want to be, not anymore, was lonely. Sure, she had friends, friends like G.T., someone who started off as just a bank customer but ended up as a close, dear confidante. As though her mother had read her thoughts, she asked, “Is the farmer coming to the ball tonight?” “Mom, don’t call him that.” Danika sprayed perfume on her inner wrists. When she thought about G.T., she spritzed her bare chest where the deep ‘V’ of her dress’s neckline exposed her cleavage. With perky breasts, she could wear a garment like this without it being too revealing. “G.T. is a farmer, isn’t he?” Tova pressed. “He’s a businessman.” Danika reached behind herself to zip up her dress, but could only get it to go up to the small of her back. “And his business is?” Pain wrenched at Danika’s shoulders as she struggled to zip up the article of clothing. “Produce and dairy products,” she said with a grunt. “Which makes him?” 9

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 he doorbell chimed. T “If that’s him, early.” “I hope it is him. He’s the only one of your friends who can make me laugh.” “Well be prepared to start giggling because he’s the friend I’m working my matchmaking powers on.” “God help him.” Danika ignored her mother’s barb as she headed to the door. She thought about throwing on a robe or coat to hide the back of her dress. Then again, she and G.T. had been friends for nearly six years. In that time, she’d grown to trust him. Besides, he was as good as anyone else to zip up her dress. Having a great platonic male friend was always good to have. She could bounce off ideas about other men. The man had a gift of meeting people and seeing right through them. Danika took a deep breath and opened the door to her high-rise condo unit. She had to blink a couple of times to register what she saw on the other side.

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Chapter Two “Howdy, darlin’.” G.T. adjusted his yellow-and-blue trucker hat on his head, then flashed his signature humble smile. G.T. wore faded jeans, a denim shirt and boots. A swarm of bees swirled in Danika’s belly. She hadn’t eaten anything unusual all day today. Maybe it was the intense workout that morning. Danika pushed her body harder than usual so that she could be in the best shape for tonight’s festivities. She cleared her throat hoping the feeling would go away, then stepped off to the side. “Come in.” Danika closed the door. “As usual, you’re early.” G.T. turned. His light brown eyes sparkled. “As usual--” He craned his head around to gaze at something behind her. “--you’re not ready.” Danika looked over her shoulder, then lifted her arm to peek under it. The top part of her dress in the back flopped over. “Yes, well, it’s a good thing you’re here.” Comically, G.T. interlaced his fingers and stretched them in front of himself, cracking his knuckles in the process. “I knew my finely-tuned expertise would come in handy. I am an authority at women’s garments.” “Please don’t tell me you wear them.” Danika headed back toward her bedroom. “Once on a dare.” Good thing she trusted G.T. like a brother. She wouldn’t let just any guy into this part of her home. G.T. was harmless. For as long as she had known him, he’d never shown an interest in her or in any African-American woman. Not that G.T. was prejudice. Danika assumed his thing was in cutesy white women, probably beauty pageant queens. G.T. followed her up the stairs to her loft bedroom. “I have to say, women’s silk panties are the most comfortable things I have ever put on my body.” Danika couldn’t contain her laughter. The thought of this over sixfoot tall hick from the sticks in panties would forever be burned in her thoughts. 11

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“ Stop kidding around.” She stopped in the middle of her bedroom with her back to him. “Zip me up, please.” “I must be off my game.” G.T. touched her shoulders. “I was hoping you were going to ask me to pull the zipper down.” “Cute. Save your charming lines for the single women tonight.” “Last I checked, you are one.” His warm hands on her flesh seared her skin. The touch caused her to jump and raised her body temperature to nuclear level. And since when did his voice sound so deep and seductive? “Um, yeah, I mean, yes. Single but looking.” Danika must be coming down with a cold or something. First the reaction at the door and now how she felt about G.T.’s touch all had her wondering what was going on in her head. She chewed on the inside of her lower lip to try to calm herself. Although the dress hugged her body, it did manage to hide her quaking knees. What the hell was happening to her? She’d never found G.T. attractive before. He had a nice, rugged appearance that some women found appealing. For Danika’s liking, she wanted her men to be clean-cut, wearing suits at work and playing golf on their off time. That countenance matched hers, not some guy in jeans and T-shirts. Seeing him in his normal denim attire tickled her. Only G.T. could get away with that. “What in the world do you have on tonight?” Danika asked. “It’s what I normally wear.” “I know. You know this ball is a formal affair.” She put her hands to her hips like a scolding mother. It would be difficult for her to hook him up with a good woman when he looked like the hired help. “Honey, it’s not about how you come to a party. It’s what you look like when you leave.” His big belly laugh made Danika smile. “For the last four years I’ve done the monkey suit thing and it has gotten me nowhere. This year I’m going to be myself.” No wonder her mother loved him. He was following Tova’s advice about wearing whatever he wanted. No matter what G.T. did, he never seemed out of place. Being comfortable in his skin was a trait Danika wanted in a man. However, she wasn’t looking to G.T. to fill that empty spot. 12

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The difference in color had nothing to do with it. Since the first day, Danika and G.T. shared the same fondness for a lot of things, including classic movies from the 1980s and their love of cooking. “What’s your plan of attack tonight? Knowing you, I know there is some sort of list.” Not being able to stop herself, Danika glanced to the side at a list taped up to her dresser mirror. She brought her gaze back to the front but it was too late. Gauging from G.T.’s amused laughter, he must have seen it. “I knew it. Probably has mundane things on there like ‘Brush my teeth’ or ‘Give myself positive affirmations.’” “Nothing wrong with pumping yourself up for an event.” Danika squeezed her eyes shut. She might as well have said that both of those items were on her list. G.T.’s laughter continued until his infectious joy made Danika smile. He let his hands travel down her arms in such a slow motion it was as though they were lying in bed and he was caressing her there, making her feel sexy and special. The hairs stood erect on her arms and at the back of her neck. Her heart pumped harder than it did during her workout. Danika should have told him to stop touching her, swat his hand and put him in his place. If the intimate contact didn’t feel as good as it did, she would have. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Just as a moan was traveling up her throat and threatening to escape her mouth, she snapped her head down and stared straight ahead again. “Keep talking like that and I’ll tell your girlfriend on you.” Danika laughed as a way to lighten the mood. G.T.’s hands stopped at her elbows. “Girlfriend? What stories have people been telling you?” His large hands coasted down to her waist. “You know I’m not seeing anyone.” “So no Miss Georgia Peach or Miss Dairy Farm Girl for you?” He playfully plucked the back of her head. “I do have some standards. I’m going for Miss Virginia this year.” “It’s all about supporting local businesses, right?” She snickered. “What happened to that nice woman I set you up with?” Danika tried looking over her shoulder at him but didn’t want to seem too obvious that she wanted to catch his reaction. 13

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“Hannah the horse lady?” G.T. laughed. “There was a different type of stud she was into. She was all about her horses. I love my animals but that woman really loved her animals.” “She seemed like your type.” “And what type is that?” Danika didn’t want to say because she had seen both of them in jeans and with their southern drawls, she thought they would have a lot in common. “Because she does the same kind of work that you do.” G.T. leaned closer to her, evident from the way his chest rested on her back. She felt his head by hers. The bill of his hat brushed the side of her head. His warm breath feathered by her face, forcing Danika to hold hers. “I guess you don’t know as much about me as you thought you did.” His whisper in her ear buckled her knees. Her breath quickened. Those pesky bees returned in her belly. Exhaustion. That had to the reason for her new condition. When G.T. pulled back, Danika released her breath. “I should be at home tending to my poor cows. They don’t like the cold weather. Or maybe I’ve gotten them spoiled.” His laughter rolled like a tumbling boulder. “A spoiled cow. Does that mean the milk will be--” “Don’t say it.” G.T. cut her off. “And no, brown cows don’t make chocolate milk.” He pulled up her zipper. The sound of each tooth catching in the zipper echoed in the quiet room. “So if you shake a cow, will you get--” “And here I thought you were smart.” In a surprising move, G.T. grabbed Danika’s waist and twirled her around so that she faced him. “Turns out you’re just--” He stopped. Up close, Danika admired his cleanly-shaven face that revealed his strong jaw line and a deep cleft in his chin. Usually when she saw him, either at her bank branch or the couple of times she had been to his farm, he always had stubble on his face, and a baseball cap on his head. “Turns out I’m what?” Danika held onto G.T.’s arms to steady herself. He paused as though in a trance before he smiled. “Turns out you’re 14

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one of those good-looking women with nothing going on up here.” He tapped the side of her head with his finger. “I’m just getting you prepared for the level of conversation you’ll have tonight with your pageant princess.” She grinned. “So no yanky my wanky?” A “Sixteen Candles” reference. G.T. was feeling playful. “Unless Molly Ringwald is at the party, I bet any woman you talk to tonight will not get that movie reference.” She held onto his arms. “I’ll take that bet. Dinner on you?” The image of G.T. licking salad dressing off of her body popped into her thoughts. She gripped his jacket sleeves. “You’re on. And when I win, you’ll have to take me up in your helicopter and do the tour of the city.” “Done. Shake on it?” Danika managed to raise one hand. Instead G.T., with his hands still on her waist, twisted her body back and forth. “That’s such an old ‘Three Stooges’ joke.” She grabbed his shoulders to stop him. It only made her get even closer. “You’re an old woman.” She playfully pushed his shoulders back, but he continued holding onto her waist. “And I thought you were a gentleman. Don’t you know you’re supposed to take off your hat in the presence of a lady, young or old?” She reached for his cap and removed it from his head mussing his dishwater blond locks. Danika had to fight to keep from running her fingers through his hair, another unusual reaction. As she was about to set the hat on her bed, he grabbed her wrist. “Don’t do that.” “Why?” She couldn’t break her gaze away from his. With one of his hands on her waist and the other holding her wrist, Danika invaded more of his space. Her heartbeat accelerated. She had to be sick. No way could she be giddy over G.T. “You’ve never heard it’s bad luck to put a hat on a bed?” He removed his hat from her hand. “I plan on getting lucky.” Danika’s smile widened when he grinned. “Watch out, Miss America. 15

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G.T. Pithall is on the prowl.” She couldn’t tell if G.T. was pulling her forward, or if she was gravitating to him, or if he was bringing his head down closer to her, but the room suddenly felt small. Despite the fact that they were in her airy loft, she couldn’t breathe. That was it. Danika needed to get to an emergency room quick. All at once she felt light-headed. Her palms felt sweaty. Her mouth went dry. What scared Danika the most wasn’t the fact that her Type A behind might be having a heart attack. It was the fact that it looked like G.T. wanted to kiss her…and she didn’t want to stop him. What the hell was wrong with her? She never felt this way toward him before. And if she did kiss him, that would ruin her plans for the evening? She would be consumed with the idea of the kiss and what it meant. Danika took a deep breath. Big mistake. G.T. smelled way better than he looked. An earthy yet fragrant aroma wafted from him. Despite the winter weather, he smelled like pine needles, freshly chopped wood and ginger. If G.T. was going to kiss her, she hoped the air from his lungs would be enough to sustain her before she passed out. “For God sake, girl. Kiss him!” her mother exclaimed through the speakers. Just like when Danika was a teenager, the sound of her mother’s voice propelled her to push away from G.T. and wriggle out of his grip. “I almost forgot she was on the phone.” Danika wiped her hand over her damp forehead. G.T. raised his hat to the monitor. “Hi, Mrs. Grooms.” “The farmer.” Her mother cackled. “Mom!” Danika crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s all right. It’s funny.” G.T. bowed. “You look as gorgeous as ever.” Please stay seated. Please stay seated. It was bad enough Danika had almost kissed him. It would cap off the night if the man saw her mother naked. “And you are as charming as ever.” Now her mother laughed. “And you know you can call me Tova, just like Danika.” She winked at her daughter. “When are we going to run away together?” 16

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“ I’ll clear my schedule for you any time.” “Put me down for next Thursday.” Tova cackled again. This time the idea that her mom was openly flirting with G.T. and he didn’t mind turned the bees in her belly into hornets that Danika wanted to spit out of her mouth and straight through the monitor. “Thanks for calling tonight.” Danika rushed to the monitor. “I’ll talk to you later.” “You two have a wonderful time tonight. And G.T.?” “Yes, ma’am?” “Make sure my baby has fun. Don’t let her work tonight. She’s got some whacked out plan that sounds foolish to me.” G.T. bowed his head. “I’ll do my best.” “Good night, Mom.” “Tova!” Just as Danika reached for the disconnect button, her mother left the duo with another parting word. “And if she gives it up to you tonight, give it to her good. I don’t think she’s had sex in a while.” Flames engulfed Danika’s face as she shut down the computer. “That was embarrassing.” Danika kept her back to G.T. as she smoothed her hand over her hair. “Thanks for helping me with my dress.” “My pleasure.” She imagined G.T. did his courtly bow again. He might be country and sweet but Danika had to admit there was something about a good ol’ boy like G.T. that proved appealing. Damn Valentine’s Day. The occasion must make everyone romantic, sentimental saps. Danika ducked into her bathroom to put the finishing touches on her makeup and to hide from her guest. As she was about to apply blush to her cheeks she noticed how pink they were from her mother’s crass statement. Danika set the brush down and braced her hands on the counter. She closed her eyes and attempted to collect her thoughts on what to do that evening. In order to find her own happiness, she would help others find theirs. And like it or not, G.T. was going to meet his Miss Right tonight. One of them had to break the Bitter Ball cycle. A clearing of a throat grabbed her attention. Danika peered up. In the 17

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reflection in her mirror above her sink she saw G.T. standing behind her. “We need to talk.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “About?” Danika would only connect with his gaze through the mirror’s reflection. “The elephant in the room.” So much for harmless ol’ G.T.

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Chapter Three Although G.T. would have never considered a woman to be his best friend, if he had to sum up what Danika was to him, it would have been that. From the beginning, she got his sense of humor. At first he thought it was a business ploy to suck up to him. But when he threw classic 80’s movies lines at her and she could tell him what movie it came from, he was an instant Danika fan. The very first time he saw her shopping at his farmer’s market, he couldn’t get her out of his head, strange considering she looked the type who wouldn’t give a hayseed like him the time of day. Though not his style, he found out where she worked using his little sister as bait. One great thing about his sister Sarah was that she didn’t mind asking anyone, any type of question. And Sarah, who worked as a manager at the market, grilled Danika until she found out where she worked and the type of car she drove. From there, G.T. moved one business account to her bank just to keep in touch with her. Who knew from that business arrangement that they would grow to be great friends. One part about their friendship that he didn’t like, though, was her insistent need to fix him up. Although he went out with each woman, every date turned out to be a dud. Either the women were too interested in G.T.’s money or they were too interested in themselves to care about anyone else. That’s what drew him to Danika. She was ladylike but with a quick sense of humor. Every time she talked to him, she gave him sincere eye contact and made him feel like he was the most important person in the world. Then there was her beauty. Like his daddy used to say, they didn’t make women like Danika where he grew up in North Carolina. Danika had eyes you could drown in, a soft brown color with flecks of gold. She took care of her body, something he could appreciate, especially with his active lifestyle. He needed a woman who could keep up with him. Where she needed lean muscles, she had them. And where he liked curves on a woman, Danika fulfilled his desires. 19

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And then there was that smile. Even if he was interested in her, G.T. wasn’t sure she would want him. Now whether or not his race mattered to her was a different story. After knowing her for a year, G.T. had asked Danika to go to the Bitter Ball with him. He knew she wasn’t seeing anyone. And the last woman she had tried to hook him up with ended in disaster, so he was free and single, too. Plus he knew it would be a hoot to go to a party with someone he knew he would have a good time with when they got there. G.T. had hoped the evening would have ended differently, with he and Danika finding the perfect mates. Instead it ended with her bemoaning the fact that there were no prospects out there and that she would be single forever and thank goodness she had a good friend in G.T. So every year he, Danika and a group of their friends had been going to this ball. This time, though, the ending would be different. He would find the right woman, and he would help Danika find the right man. So why was he feeling like the right man was the one staring back at him in the mirror? Danika released a nervous giggle. “What elephant? I disconnected my mom, if that’s what you mean.” She tried walking past him to leave the bathroom when he blocked the doorway. “Move out of my way.” G.T. waited until she brought her gaze up to his. “Not until you listen to me.” She exhaled through her nose and took a step back. “Something happened back there.” G.T. tilted his head back into the bedroom, the same room that when Danika led him to it, he nearly popped a tent in his jeans. “Yeah, you nearly saw my mother naked. The woman has no shame.” Danika tried walking by G.T. again. This time he stopped her with his words. “No, we nearly kissed.” A rosy pink glow colored Danika’s chestnut brown cheeks. G.T. didn’t mean to shock her but he wasn’t a man to mince words. “You wanted to kiss me?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you want to kiss me?” He opened this can of worms. G.T. wanted her to deal with them wigglers. She shook her head. “Nothing can happen between us.” Her steadfast decision made him take a step back. Although he was 20

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going to suggest the same thing, he had no idea she would readily agree. “I know this. I just want to make sure we were square between us.” “I’m fine. I have a plan for tonight.” Put Danika in a business jacket and slip on her glasses, and she would match how business-like she sounded, which concerned him. Although he liked that Danika enjoyed her job, a woman consumed by her work did not appeal to him. “My goal tonight is to find you the right woman.” “I hate to tell you, darlin’, but you’re no good at it. I could find you a man better than you can find me a woman.” There had to be a balance. Maybe tonight he could help her find the right balance between her work and the right man. It was also a great way for him to keep his eye on her. “Is that a dare?” She put her hands to her hips. All G.T. thought about was her sexy curves. In her dress, she did nothing to hide them. “Your plan is to find the perfect woman for me. I can help you.” G.T. smiled but Danika carried a worried expression on her face. “And you can help me find your perfect man.” “And how did you plan on helping me? Who do you know?” “I may be out in the country, but I do get to the city once in a while. And I know a few people, some who will be at the party tonight.” “And what would I have to do for you in exchange?” Now she started to tap her foot. Good sign. At least she was interested. “Do the bathroom trick.” She stopped marching and stared at him. “No.” “If you’re my friend, you’ll do it.” Danika shook her head again. “Please don’t make me stalk some poor woman all night, follow her to the bathroom and grill her about you. It’s so high school.” “Do or don’t do. There is no try.” She covered her eyes. “No Yoda.” “Okay, I’ll drop the all-knowing Yoda bit. Or you can make this easy and just admit--” “There’s nothing to admit. We live in two different worlds. I like the city 21

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with all of the hustle and bustle. You’re out in the country. You have horses and cows and chickens and pigs. I still scream when I see a spider.” G.T. blinked. “I was going to say admit that I’m going to win this bet. Did you think I was talking about us?” The pink in her cheeks transformed to a deeper shade of crimson. “Uh, no. I knew what you meant.” “Great cover. Besides, you could learn to love the country.” G.T. approached her. “And I can get used to car horns blaring and lots of people in one place.” He put his hand to her soft cheek and stroked it with his thumb. At first he wanted to tease her. As soon as he touched her, a trigger switched in his head. Now he wanted more. “I’ll get rid of all of your spiders.” Danika grabbed his hand. “Stop kidding around. I’ll do the bathroom interrogation if you leave me alone tonight.” Like a boy scout, G.T. held up two fingers and put his other hand over his heart. “Deal.” “So let’s go out to the living room and wait for our friends.” As though Danika cued it, the doorbell rang. “And here they are now.” Danika walked by G.T. When her body brushed his, blood raced through his veins. Then he caught her scent. Her fragrance reminded him of an untouched wildflower field. The heated glance she gave him was enough to push him to action. Grabbing her around her waist, G.T. pulled her into the bathroom and pressed her against the counter. “What are you doing?” She pushed against his chest but G.T. didn’t budge. “Call me crazy, but I need to do this.” He pressed his lips against hers and the world stopped moving. G.T. felt as though he and Danika were floating in the middle of space, nothing around them but air. How could he do this? Why was he doing this? Danika was his friend. He said he didn’t want her. Guessed he should have consulted his body first before his brain answered. Kissing Danika was a sure fire way of ending their friendship. But not kissing her would have bothered G.T. more. Blame it on Valentine’s Day, blame it on the party, blame it on that slinky black dress, but something 22

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strange came over G.T. From her response, Danika was on that same wild ride. His heart pounded so hard he knew she must have felt it bouncing off of her chest. G.T. wrapped his arms around his waist and held her lean body tighter. He wanted to let his hands travel down to her luscious backside and just hold it. Still it felt so good to have her in his arms, not like a buddy but as a lover. As G.T. pulled back from the kiss, the doorbell chimed again. If not for that, he knew Danika would have hit him with a barrage of curses and severed their friendship. He would have deserved that. He’d never pushed himself on a woman before. Always a gentleman, G.T. got a woman’s permission before kissing her. In this situation, he felt too desperate to leave anything up to chance. Danika wrapped her arms around G.T.’s shoulders and kissed him passionately, sliding her tongue into his mouth. His tongue met hers in his mouth, touching and teasing just as his hands slid up and down her back. He felt her trembling under his gentle caress. Would she be this nervous if they made love? Hell, would he be nervous if they made love? Why was he even thinking about having sex with her? G.T. should stop kissing her and not even go to the party tonight. When someone knocked on the front door, Danika pulled back from the kiss. “Oh God!” She covered her mouth. “What just happened?” G.T. shrugged. “I don’t know. I just--” “Dani! Are you in there?” Her friend Belle yelled through the door. Danika put her hand to her head. “Uh, I’ll answer the door.” She started to walk out of the bathroom when G.T. pulled her back. “No more kissing. We have to go.” She tried tugging her hand out of his grip. “I know. You’d better take a look at yourself in the mirror.” G.T. turned her around so that she could see her lipstick smeared over her face. “I’ll go get the door.” Danika stopped him this time and pulled him back. “You have lipstick all over your face, too.” G.T. smiled. “I know.” He had to make light of the situation to ease the tension. 23

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She slapped his arm. “This isn’t funny.” Danika poked her head out of the bathroom and screamed, “Just a second!” After ripping out several sheets of facial tissue, Danika scrubbed her face as she shoved a wad into G.T.’s hands. “You said we wouldn’t do this.” G.T. watched his friend wiping her mouth as though she regretted the heated exchange. “I know. I saw you and I--” Danika snapped her head around. “What?” “I couldn’t help it.” Her lips went from being in a tight line to relaxing and back again as though she didn’t know whether to be mad at him or happy that he’d kissed her. And he couldn’t forget the fact that she’d done some kissing of her own. Who knew this prim banker lady had such fire? She dumped the stained tissue into her trashcan then grabbed G.T.’s hand. “You have a beauty queen to get tonight, and my Mr. Right is waiting.” She snatched up his hat on the way out of the room. “A deal is a deal.” “You’re right. We can’t do this. We’re friends. You would never find a guy like me attractive, would you?” He stared at her, waiting for a response. Danika regarded him carefully. In a span of a couple of seconds, she worried her lower lip, glanced in the direction of her front door then turned back to G.T. “It doesn’t matter what I think.” With a hard shove, she pushed him into the guest bathroom. “What matters is that we both know what we want and how to get it, right?” G.T. didn’t respond. Although Danika seemed sure of her answer, he’d just made it tough on himself. Maybe he’d made it a bit hard for Danika, too, even if she wouldn’t admit it. She raced to the front door, leaving G.T. As he wiped the blood red lipstick from his face, he heard the chatter of their friends in the living room. G.T. disposed of the used tissue, gave himself a once over in the mirror, and stepped out of the bathroom. If it was going to be a long night, he might as well get it started now. When he rounded the corner leading to the living room, he saw his 24

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sister Sarah first. Wearing a low-cut short dress with high slits on both sides, G.T.’s first reaction was to cover her with his jacket. A seventeen-year age difference, at times G.T. felt more like her father than a brother. As soon as she caught his shocked and disapproving expression, Sarah, even at twenty-two, automatically went into defensive teenager mode. “Don’t I look hot?” Sarah spun to give him the full view of her risqué outfit. “You’re going to freeze. It’s February.” G.T. spun his hat around on his finger. “I have a coat. And now that I can drink, I’m sure I’ll be nice and warm inside.” Sarah nodded and capped off her statement with a loud yee-haw. “Speaking of drinking, who’s driving tonight?” Danika scanned the group of them. Besides Sarah, Danika’s friend Belle was there with her steady of the moment, Kwan. Why the woman bothered to go to a singles ball with a date was beyond G.T.’s comprehension. But she was Danika’s friend and Danika was the one who invited her. “I just landed a huge client at work so I plan on celebrating.” Belle grinned harder than should be possible and cuddled up with her big yet silent man. G.T. noticed that when Belle gloated about her accomplishment, Danika seemed envious. Odd reaction considering Belle was supposed to be her friend, and Danika usually wanted the best for her friend. “Y’all know I plan on tying one on.” Sarah raised her hands in the air and shimmied around as though music was playing. With her hands up, that shortened her dress even more. G.T. brought her arms down. “Okay, we get the point. By the way, when the song ‘YMCA’ by the Village People comes on tonight, you’re not allowed to dance to it.” Sarah groaned. “Lighten up, bro. We only live once.” G.T. pointed to his hair. “See the gray at my temples? You put every one of them there.” Sarah stared at him and moved in closer. “I don’t see the gray but I do see something red on your cheek. Is that lipstick?” G.T. noticed Danika was getting red herself, as he wiped his cheek and 25

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around his mouth. To change the subject, he said, “For Sarah, Danika and I, I booked some rooms at the hotel where the ball is being held. That way we don’t have to worry about driving.” G.T. glanced at Danika, who looked stunned. To ease her worry, he followed with, “We’ll each have our own room.” “I knew you’d do that, G.T.” Sarah threw her arms around his neck and nearly squeezed the life out of him. “That’s why I packed a bag. It’s in the car.” “Danika, did you pack a bag?” G.T. asked her. After clearing her throat, she said, “It’ll take me two seconds to do it.” “I guess Kwan will be my designated driver tonight.” Belle patted Kwan’s protruding belly. The large black man’s shoulders slumped down like he was disappointed he couldn’t tie one on. Then Belle whispered something in his ear that perked him right up again. Danika darted to her bedroom. While she was away and Belle was whispering more sweet nothings into Kwan’s ear, Sarah pulled G.T. aside. “So how was the kiss?” Sarah, with her Playboy Playmate platinum blond hair, bounced from side to side like a bunny. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” G.T. chuckled as a way to deflect her. Although Sarah was bubbly, she wasn’t a bubblehead. “Don’t give me that. I know you have the hots for Danika. I can’t believe after all of this time you haven’t told her.” “You’re crazy. Danika and I are friends.” He scratched the back of his head. “Oh, you mean those other Bitter Balls we went to you just thought of her as a friend?” “Why is that hard to believe?” She grasped his shoulders and forced him to look into her eyes. “You’re my brother. I love you. I want to see you happy. And I think she would make you happy. Besides, she’s good with money and you need someone who’s going to take care of your dough.” G.T. shook his head. “I don’t need someone who’s after my money. I need a woman who wants me for me.” 26

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“And yet all you date are models. You don’t think Danika is the one person who will want you for you? You’ve been friends with that woman longer than you’ve been friends with any females before. Doesn’t that tell you something?” “That’s not true. Lots of ex-girlfriends still keep in contact with me.” He nodded. “The one who is becoming a nun and sends you Christmas cards does not count.” Danika came out of her bedroom with an overnight bag, a small black purse and her coat. In a lowered voice he said, “There’s nothing going on between us.” “Liar.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “If she said she wanted you, would you take her up on it?” “I don’t know, kid,” G.T. said. “I don’t know.” “Figure it out. I have a wager on you for tonight.” “What kind of wager? That I will or won’t get her?” Sarah winked then walked away. Sneaky little thing. His other two brothers didn’t know how to rattle him, but Sarah had it down to an art. “Ready?” Belle asked. “Let’s go!” Sarah darted to the door. “Guess so.” Danika followed behind Belle and Kwan. Before she reached the door, G.T. took her bag then her coat and helped her on with it. “No time like the present.” G.T. couldn’t stop gazing at her. Now all he would have to do tonight would be to watch his sister and find Danika a man to honor his deal and to get her out of his head. If only it were that simple.

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Chapter Four At the hotel, G.T. handed Sarah her hotel room key. She blew him a kiss, then darted into the noisy party. He handed Danika her room key. “I have my own room.” He showed her his card key to reassure her. “And I don’t have another copy of your key. I promise.” Danika nodded. She hated feeling like G.T. thought she could no longer trust him. If anything, she didn’t think she could trust herself. As much as he had attacked her in her bathroom, she’d done the same to him, kissing him right back. The feelings she had churning in her body, the butterflies, the lightheadedness, the pounding heart, all came back when she recalled the moment they kissed. There went her plans tonight. Then to hear Belle talk about her big catch at work didn’t help. Although she was happy for Belle, Danika wondered when it would be her turn. Even with graduating at the top of her class and making herself invaluable at work, she could never seem to break through the glass ceiling. “We’re going to go in and get something to drink.” Belle pulled on Kwan. “See you inside,” G.T. said quickly. He turned to Danika. “You want to put your bag in your room?” Danika plastered a smile on her face. “Sure.” In the elevator, she wanted to just grab G.T. again and lay one on him. She had to restrain herself. How was she supposed to accomplish her goal to find him a date? At their floor, they both got out of the elevator. Every time Danika touched him, she apologized. There was now an awkward feeling between them that had never existed before. “I’ll be right here if you need me.” G.T. stopped at a door midway down the hall. Danika stared at her room key number, then scanned the hall and figured out very quickly that G.T. had given her the key to the luxury corner suite. 28

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“You gave me the wrong key. I have the suite.” G.T. opened his door. “I know.” She blinked. “I can’t take that room.” She tried handing him the key back but he refused. “The best for the best.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” “I can’t have you paying for a suite.” G.T. dropped his bag inside of the room and closed the door. “Promise me a dance and we’ll call it even.” She shook her head even more. “Why are you doing this?” “Doing what?” “Being so nice!” “Was there a time that I wasn’t nice?” Danika pointed at him just as her left eye started twitching. “There it is again.” G.T. furrowed his eyebrows. “What? Is there something on me?” “You’ve always been so good to me.” “We’re friends. How else would you expect me to be?” She wanted him to be cruel so that she would be turned off by him. She wanted him to be unattractive. She wanted him to be the opposite of what she desired. Since that mesmerizing kiss, Danika didn’t know what she wanted or even needed. “Never mind. I’m going to put my bag in my room.” She stared at him to see what he would say. Would G.T. want to finish that amazing kiss in her room? Or would he be the gentleman she knew. “I’ll wait for you.” G.T. pointed to a spot in front of him and clasped his hands together like an obedient security guard. Deflated, Danika rounded her shoulders. “Okay. Give me one second.” Instead of just dropping her bag on the floor and running out, Danika went into her room to explore. Plush and decadent didn’t come close to describing the absolute luxury she found. Inside were fresh cut flowers, soft cotton sheets on a king-sized bed, a fountain, a complimentary bottle of wine and a tray full of fruits. She’d stepped into heaven. Before leaving the room, Danika checked her makeup. She slid on another coat of lipstick, then fixed her hair. Danika stared at herself in a 29

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mirror by the door. “G.T. is right. I deserve the best.” She stood taller with her shoulders back. “I won’t have to go searching for love. Love will find me.” Danika took a deep breath before leaving the room. The hardest thing she had done was lying to G.T. and telling him that she only wanted to be friends. The sparks were there. He just couldn’t know. “Let’s get the party started.” Danika walked out of the room. Seeing G.T. in the hallway took her breath away. His loyalty astounded her. It also didn’t help that he filled out his jeans nicely. As soon as her door slammed shut, hitting her ass as it closed, she remembered that she left her purse sitting on the bathroom sink. She turned to unlock her door when resistance stopped her. Peering down, she found that the back of her dress was caught in the door. “Are you ready?” G.T. glanced at his watch. “Yes, and no.” Danika tugged on the back of her dress, hoping to either free herself or to pull out enough for her to be able to turn around to unlock the door. “What are you doing?” He took a couple of steps toward her. “It’s nothing. I forgot something in my room. I’ll be right there.” She took another tug and stopped when she heard something rip. “Oh God, no.” “What is it?” At Danika’s distressing tone, G.T. accelerated his steps. “I feel like a real idiot right now.” She covered her eyes with her hand. G.T. held her shoulders. When she felt him tilting her to one side then snickering, she knew he’d figured out what she’d done. “I’ve heard of people locking themselves out of their rooms before,… but this, this is too--” She cut him off. “Okay, fine. Have your laugh. Meanwhile we’re missing a great party.” “Far be it for me to keep you from a kicking party.” He tilted his hat back on his head. “And we’re missing out on the opportunity to find each other our perfect matches.” Danika planted her fists onto her hips. He shrugged. “You got me there. Do you at least have your key or did you lock it in the room with your dress?” 30

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“Funny. A hillbilly with a sense of humor. How is it that you managed to stay single for so long?” G.T. moved in closer. “The right woman hasn’t snatched me up yet.” She swallowed hard. “I’m going to change that for you.” Danika watched G.T.’s eyebrows rise. She thought about what she said and rephrased her statement. “Finding you your next girlfriend. That’s what I’m going to do tonight.” She gave him a friendly pat on his shoulder. G.T.’s intense stare melted her. All at once she felt boneless. “Key,” he said and waited in the silence. “Key to what?” He snickered. “If I said ‘your heart’ would you tell me where it is?” She remained silent. “That’s what I thought.” Then he placed his hand on the door right above her shoulder. “Do you have the key or do I have to make a call?” With shaky hands, Danika held up the white card. G.T. took it, brushing his calloused hand over hers. He slid his hand that was on the door down to her waist. He wrapped his arm around her and held her off to the side as he inserted the key into the lock. “What if I wasn’t here?” he asked. “I would have gotten out of the dress and unlocked the door.” At her provocative statement, G.T. opened the door and nearly fell on the floor on top of her. They stumbled into her room, and the door slammed shut behind them. Standing in her hotel room, all sorts of thoughts ran through Danika’s head. She glanced over to the bed and imagined her and G.T. on top of it, stripping each other out of their clothes and making love until the next day. Turning to the dresser, she fantasized about G.T. hoisting her up on top and pumping hard and fast inside of her. And no matter what wall she looked at, she could see herself with her dress pulled up around her waist and G.T. making passionate love to her against each and every one of them. It was official. Danika was losing her mind. G.T. snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Danika, you okay?” She blinked several times to get her wits about her. “I’m fine. Just 31

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thinking about something.” She ducked into the bathroom to get her purse. “Sex,” she heard G.T. say from the other room. She deposited her room key into her purse and returned to the main room. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Danika sauntered by G.T. “So you’re trying to tell me that with us standing in the get-it-on suite the thought of sex never crossed your mind?” She tried getting to the door, but just like in her bathroom earlier, G.T. blocked her path. Danika braced her hand against his chest. “You know, I’ve taken several self-defense classes. I could take you down.” “Take me down where?” A sly grin hitched at the corner of his mouth. Yep, he definitely took her threat the wrong way. “You are not funny.” She turned her back so that he couldn’t see her smile. “Then why are you laughing?” Afraid to answer, Danika continued to the door. She didn’t notice G.T. running up to her until he got between her and the door. He stared at her. “You’re the most honest person I know. So just tell me to my face. When we fell into the room, did you think about sex, specifically about us having sex?” “This conversation is not going to help us look for other people.” She pointed to him. “You have your dream woman, a model who wants to save the rain forest and feed all of the starving children. And I have my dream man.” “A guy who you can trust and rely on, one who makes you laugh.” G.T.’s words shut her up. She cleared her throat before attempting to speak. “A businessman with the same goals that I have.” She reached for the doorknob and he blocked her. “Which are?” Even in the dimly lit room, G.T.’s eyes bore through her soul. “To live and work in the city.” She knew a line like that would keep him back. 32

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G.T. raised his hands in defeat. “You got me. This good ol’ country boy wants to sit on his porch and whittle a stick into a little boat. That’s what you believe, right?” “I believe--” “I’m a big boy.” And how, Danika thought. G.T. continued. “Are you attracted to me?” Danika swallowed. No matter what, she found it hard to lie to G.T. When he told her he wanted her, she knew he meant it. However, when she told him she felt nothing for him beyond friendship, she’d broken their bond. Time for her to come clean. Danika nodded. “I did think about sex when we came into the room.” G.T.’s smile slipped down. If she was going to shock him, she had to keep going. She continued. “And I do think you’re a handsome man.” He took a step closer to her. “Go on.” Danika continued. “I just don’t think--” “Good,” he said, cutting her off. “Let’s not think. We have this room and each other.” He crept closer to her. “And it is Valentine’s Day.” “Yes, it is.” Danika clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. Now standing directly in front of her, she could feel his breath on her face. The heat from his body warmed her. What was he doing to her? Danika closed her eyes and tilted her head up. She wouldn’t turn down another kiss. “Speaking of which, there’s a great party going on downstairs. And I am not losing this bet. So we should go.” In a strange move, G.T. patted her on the shoulder, the same type of touch she’d given him in her bathroom. That bastard! Giving her a taste of her own medicine. “I can’t believe I just fell for that.” She followed him out the door and to the elevator. “It was too easy.” “Hope you had fun. I’ll be sure to tell every desperate, horny woman at the party that you’re available.” 33

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“So I’ll have options.” He chuckled. Danika growled. “Your glass is always half full, isn’t it?” “No use being negative. One way or another, if you want something you get it. So are you going to tell me what kind of woman you’re seeking for me?” Danika glanced at the floor number over the elevator doors. All three cars were at the bottom floor. It would be a while before any of them reached them. “You don’t want me to spoil the surprise, do you?” She stared at the numbers to keep herself occupied. “If I can understand the plot in all three original Star Wars movies, I can handle what you have in mind for me. So shoot.” The closest car was five floors away. It couldn’t get to them fast enough. “I see you with a petite woman.” Curiosity got the better of Danika and she glanced at G.T. only to find a confused expression on his face. “I don’t know. I kind of like a tall gal.” He faced her. In her stilettos, she almost met his gaze. “She needs to be gorgeous.” “Because you think I’m shallow.” G.T.’s turn to fold his arms over his chest. She shook her head. “I think you would want the best. The best to you would be someone who is good-looking.” “You’re not so bad to look at.” He smiled. Danika thought of boxes of dead puppies to keep from returning the warm gesture. “She should be educated enough not to be dull in a conversation.” “If she’s pretty, she doesn’t need to have a brain.” Danika glared at him, enough that he raised his hand in front of her and took a step back as though she could shoot flames from her eyes. “I was just kidding. Conversation is way better than anything I could do with a woman.” Then G.T. covered his mouth to hide his laughter. Between chuckles he asked, “What else?” “She doesn’t have to be from here.” This time he furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. “Now, there’s where you’re wrong. I like my women homegrown. You were born and raised here.” 34

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Danika refrained from confirming his statement. “And she should be blonde.” She glanced at him to catch his response then directed her attention back to the numbers over the elevator doors. “You mean white.” G.T. lowered his voice. Danika regarded G.T. “Isn’t that what you want?” G.T. shook his head. Just knowing that G.T. didn’t put any limitations on romance accelerated Danika’s heart again. If it were possible, could they have a relationship and make it work? Danika tapped her toe as they waited for the next car. “Life is complicated. Love is too complicated. I’d say stick with what you know and it’ll make you happier.” “So is that what you want in a man?” She nodded. “I’m all about business. So I need a businessman as a partner. If I go with my head instead of my heart, then I won’t get hurt. See my logic?” G.T. nodded, but from the way he stood there looking at her, she knew he didn’t understand her plan. Good thing he didn’t have to know what she meant. He just had to be her friend. But something told her their friendship might be in peril. “Interesting plan. I know what kind of guy to look for you now. When I find him, I’ll send him your way. Good luck with your merger.” G.T. adjusted his hat low on his forehead like he wanted to shield his eyes. The elevator doors opened and G.T. stepped inside first. As Danika was about to step on, he stopped her with a declaration. “Nice thong. Your dress is ripped in the back.”

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Chapter Five G.T. discovered a new side to Danika, a side that disappointed him. Her talk of how to make a relationship like a business arrangement sickened him…and reminded him of a past girlfriend. Clara was a different animal. Before Danika revealed that little defect, he’d wanted to kiss her again. Watching her tilt her head up, wanting to be kissed earlier had his blood boiling over. And the sight of her thong gave him thoughts that would make a porn star blush. G.T. maneuvered his way through the crowd at the ball. Lots of bitter people, he thought. Not him. He was tired of being bitter. And if no romance was what Danika wanted, he could find someone to fit that bill. He knew a lot of businessmen, and most of them were jerks. He’ll find the worst of the lot and point him in her direction. Then again, Danika was supposed to be looking for a woman for him. What if the woman she finds is not only beautiful but kind, generous and smart…like Danika. Hell, there was no one like Danika. A kiss had proven that to G.T. Okay, so he wouldn’t set her up with a jerk. No matter how much she pissed him off, he could never hurt Danika. He’d find a nice, sensible guy who had a great business sense…and be dry as toast so Danika could see she would have a much better time with him. Why was he bothering to pursue Danika when she made it clear she didn’t want him? Probably because she was sending him mixed signals. Plus G.T. had never been one to give up on a fight. In the chaotic party with gyrating bodies everywhere, G.T. kept pushing his way through the crowd. He got halfway to the bar, glanced off to the side when a beam of light reflected in his eyes, temporarily blinding him. Blinking to regain his sight, he caught a blurry image of a man standing in front of him. The more he blinked the clearer the view became until he finally saw the man. “You doing all right, G.T.?” Alfred Oliver. Although G.T. didn’t deal directly with Alfred’s bank because they’d denied him a loan when he first started his business, G.T. 36

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knew all about Alfred. Aside from his family’s lapse in judgment for his loan, Alfred was a shrewd businessman. “I’m fine as frog’s hair, Alfred.” He shook his hand. Since Alfred matched G.T.’s height, he could look the man in the eye. His complexion was darker than Danika’s. Man, why did G.T. have to compare everyone to Danika? “You enjoying yourself?” Alfred snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. He attempted to get one for G.T., but G.T. stopped him. “I just got here.” He had to scream at the man but in the loud area that was the only way to carry on a conversation. “Are you in for that deal we talked about earlier this week?” Danika’s mom had warned her daughter about discussing work at the party. Now Alfred was trying to suck G.T. into a business conversation. Alfred and his folks had proposed a venture to G.T. that would bring his products to stores he hadn’t thought to target. “I’m still going over the business plan. I’ll contact you if it’s a good venture.” G.T. patted Alfred on his shoulder. “Thanks for the invite here. It’s a great party.” “I know. It’s funny though. I sponsor this and I never leave here with a phone number or a date. Can you believe that?” G.T. shook his head but there was something gnawing inside of him. Maybe Alfred would be the kind of guy Danika wanted. Smart, not as good-looking as G.T. but passable, and black. G.T. didn’t think race was an issue for Danika, especially since she did kiss him. But maybe deep down it was and that’s why she was truly reluctant to be with G.T. “There’s a friend of mine here who you should meet.” G.T. screamed in Alfred’s ear. “Are you trying to fix me up, too? You’re worse than my granny.” Alfred laughed but he didn’t move from his spot, so he must have been interested. “She’s a great woman. Smart, funny, great looking--” “And single.” G.T. nodded again. “If she’s so great, why don’t you go for her?” G.T. shook his head. “Don’t want to mix business with pleasure. You know the deal.” 37

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“I get you. So she’s a business partner?” “My banker. Wonderful woman.” “I’ll talk to her. You never know, right?” “Right. You never know.” G.T. started heading to the bar again. “If I see her here, I’ll point her in your direction.” “Cool. What’s her name?” “Danika. Danika Grooms.” “Name sounds familiar. Point her in my direction if you find her.” Alfred shook G.T.’s hand before heading off to chat with more guests. True to his word, G.T. had found a date for Danika. It was the hardest thing he had to do. At the bar, G.T. ordered two drinks, a whiskey sour for himself and a gin and tonic for Danika. After the little gag he played on her, he knew she would need it. With both drinks in his hands, G.T. turned around only to be tackled by his pint-sized little sister. “Is this a party or what?” She pumped her fists in the air then swayed her body back and forth to the delight of a small group of men around them. “Back off!” G.T. warned the dogs panting after her. “She’s with me.” He nudged Sarah with his elbow. “Come on.” Sarah pushed G.T. with little result. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just my brother.” The mention that he was her brother made the men scamper away faster than if she had told them she was underage and had a hidden camera on her. Like a spoiled child, Sarah sighed loud and long. “You know, I don’t like it when you drink.” Just using his shoulder, G.T. nudged Sarah ahead of him to a V.I.P. area. “Had I known you were going to act like this, I would have never come to this party with you.” Sarah plopped down in a plushy leather chair at a corner table. G.T. set down the two drinks and sat down next to her. “Honey, you couldn’t have gotten in here without me.” “Oh yes, I could have.” She crossed her legs. “How? Tickets have been sold out for months.” 38

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“For one thing, smarty-pants, I know the organizers so I had a jump on the tickets before they went on sale. And point two, I was invited by someone.” She kicked her foot back and forth like she wanted G.T. to be on the receiving end. “Really? I guess my baby sis is growing up, making connections all by herself.” G.T. watched Sarah’s shoulders droop down. Her lips disappeared into her mouth, which meant he was in for an ear full. “Why do you do that?” She moved her chair closer to him. “Do what? Call you on your bad behavior?” “No. You put everyone in these specialized compartments and no one can ever get out of them. I’ll always be your irresponsible baby sister.” G.T. snickered. “You’re dressed inappropriately. You’re dancing all over the place. And you’re drunk.” Sarah punched G.T.’s arm. He was getting hit a lot tonight. “You pigheaded jerk! I’m just having a good time. And I haven’t had one drink tonight, and do you know why?” In the dizzying swirling lights in the large ballroom, he tried to get eye contact with her but in the darkness, it was difficult. Even through the music, he knew she was disappointed. “I didn’t drink because I wanted to show you that you can trust me.” Sarah leaned back in her chair. “It’s no wonder you’ve never been married. The woman you want has to look a certain way, act a certain way and be the ultimate woman for you to even give her the time of day.” As though her words triggered her response, Sarah scanned the area. “Where’s Danika?” G.T. took a sip of his drink. The bitter alcohol went down hard and burned his insides. “Fixing her dress. She had, um, a wardrobe malfunction.” “Did you see booby?” “Sarah!” She raised her hands in the air. “Sorry. I had to ask.” Then she reached for the second drink on the table until G.T. moved it away from her. “This is for Danika.” The smile on Sarah’s face rivaled the smiles of a million clowns. “So Mr. Millionaire is fetching drinks for women, huh?” “Will you keep it down?” 39

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“Why? Learn to shout from the rooftops how you feel. You keeping everything bottled up is the reason why you’re not seeing anyone now.” “No, it’s because of bad past relationships, and I don’t want to talk about it.” The last thing he wanted to talk about tonight was his disastrous relationship to Clara. But he was determined not to let a bad relationship rule his romantic future. G.T. stared into the crowd. It didn’t take him long to spot Danika floating into the ballroom. He noticed how everyone she walked past admired her. “Knock ‘em dead.” Sarah threw a playful punch on his shoulder before heading back down to the dance floor. G.T. would never tell Sarah this, but she was right. If Danika was the woman he truly wanted, then now was the time to tell her. As he started to head down to talk to her, a sight stopped him in his tracks. Danika stopped a man, and not any man: Alfred Oliver. Judging from her body language, the way she twirled a tendril around her finger, and how her other hand kept touching the man’s arm, G.T. figured she must have found her new “business associate.” G.T. had no right to be upset. This was what Danika wanted, and he had practically pushed Alfred onto her. Something in his gut refused to let him sit back and watch this action. He had to do something. “Sorry, Danika. I’m going to have to go back on my word just this once.”

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Chapter Six What luck, Danika thought. Just when she thought she couldn’t find a substitute for G.T., she bumped into the prized catch of the night: Alfred Oliver. Looking as sharp as she had expected, Alfred, a mahogany-colored lithe man, wore an expensive-looking tuxedo topped off with diamondand-onyx cufflinks. Yep, it was all about appearance. Alfred had it and flaunted it. Nothing wrong with that. “What brings you to this party? You can’t be the bitter type.” When he smiled, he showed off an impressive set of white, straight teeth. “You come to enough of these things and you become one of two things: even more bitter or hopeful.” She beamed, putting on her best seller’s smile. “Which are you?” Alfred crossed his arms. “Hopeful.” Danika smoothed her hand over her hair. “Not to change the subject, I must admit. I feel like a bit of a stalker where you’re concerned, Mr. Oliver.” Alfred smiled. “Alfred, please. And why would you think you fit in the overzealous category?” The fact that he hadn’t bolted from her must have meant he wanted to continue talking. Danika stepped closer trying to pick up his scent the way she had smelled G.T. Nothing. Maybe it was because they were standing in a crowd. Or maybe the man didn’t wear cologne. She had to face facts. There was no one like G.T. “I guess I should really properly introduce myself.” Danika held out her hand. “My name is Danika Grooms. I work as an assistant vice president at Advantage Bank.” Alfred accepted her hand. “Your ears must have been burning. I was talking about you with a colleague of mine.” “And who may that be?” Deep inside she didn’t want that person to be G.T. “G.T. Pithall.” 41

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Danika’s throat closed so tightly, all she could do was nod. Alfred moved closer to her. “He said that he thought the two of us would get along. I think he’s right.” So G.T. had kept his word. Alfred would be the perfect man for her. Business-savvy, well-respected in the community, attractive. He could bury himself in his work and that wouldn’t bother Danika. “And he was right on about your appearance.” Alfred gaze traveled over her. “I’m hope G.T. was very flattering.” “As always. That’s one positive person.” She smiled. “Yes, yes he is.” Alfred snapped his fingers. “That’s where I’ve heard of you before. You’re the one who helped organize the loan program for new homebuyers to finance low-income housing.” The fact that Alfred was familiar with the work she’d done made Danika’s heart pound. “Guilty.” Danika giggled and hated that she sounded so immature. Alfred applauded. “I could use someone like you.” “Use, huh? Sounds either dangerous or very lucrative.” “It could be dangerously lucrative.” Danika laughed. Sure it was a corny joke. But she had to gain his trust. With G.T., she didn’t have to pretend. She laughed at all of his silly jokes. “You said you needed me?” Danika didn’t want to let suspicion creep into her thoughts. He was a textbook candidate for her Mr. Right. She couldn’t be wrong now. “I’m heading up a new community relations team for my bank.” “That sounds very exciting. You have anyone in mind for that?” Danika put her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers. “Not yet. We’re just in the talking stages now.” “And so are we.” She batted her eyelashes. “Since we’re doing all of this talking, care to have a seat so that we can continue?” “Only if your wife or girlfriend won’t mind.” The question was obvious but Danika had to be sure she wasn’t going for someone else’s man. “Considering I don’t have either one, no one should mind. And you?” 42

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Just as Danika was about to parrot his statement, she gazed up and connected stares with G.T. watching her from the V.I.P area. No matter how much she drank that night, she would never forget the determination on G.T.’s face. When he winked at her, she wondered about his intentions. Was he trying to win the bet or trying to win her heart? “I’m at the Bitter Ball, right?” Danika shrugged. Alfred presented his arm to Danika to lead her to a private table. When a slow song started, he took advantage of the opportunity. “Before we sit, care to dance?” She stayed cemented to her spot on the dance floor to prove a point. “How can I refuse such a beautiful woman?” Even with his mesmerizing smile, Alfred couldn’t sway her, not like G.T. had. As she took Alfred’s hand and rested her other on his shoulder, she attempted to push all thoughts about G.T. out of her mind. She also had to get Alfred back on track and talking about business again. His flattering words were sounding way too romantic. Romance had nothing to do with her decision to ensnare him. “So tell me about this proposed position,” she began. Alfred snaked his arm around her waist and attempted to draw her closer to him. Even up close, she couldn’t smell anything distinctive. He was just as bland as she wanted him to be. “The job will call for the right person to meet with civic leaders and city officials to find where people will need help.” He took in a deep breath. “Wow, you smell amazing.” “So do--” Danika stopped herself when she remembered he didn’t smell like anything. “Do you expect a lot of feedback and assistance from the city?” As it was, Alfred had managed to step on her feet at least three times. The first time he stepped on her foot was when they were joining hands to start the dance. She wasn’t sure if he was rude or just never realized he was crushing her toes but he never apologized. G.T. would have not only apologized, knowing him, he would have carried her off of the dance floor. At the fourth stomp, Danika feigned exhaustion. “Whew! Thank you for the dance.” “The song isn’t over yet.” 43

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Oh God. Please don’t ask me to continue. I’ve run out of toes that you haven’t mashed into the floor! Alfred glanced at his watch. “Actually, I have to make an announcement. However, I would like for us to finish this conversation, say, over dinner sometime.” Danika tried smiling but her facial muscles failed her. “Sounds great.” “I know it’s going to sound desperate but I have some time tomorrow night. Are you free?” Sounding equally as desperate, she replied, “I’ll make time.” Alfred told her a restaurant to meet him and the time. Her stomach didn’t quiver and her heart didn’t flutter like they had with G.T. Just as she pondered that thought, she turned right into G.T.’s arms. “We need to talk.” G.T. took her hand and pulled Danika to a quiet spot in the lobby. Tapped of all of her strength from the day, she trailed behind him like a lost puppy. She sat down on the chair by several potted plants. “Congratulations,” she began. “You found me a guy before I could find you a date.” “That’s me all over. Always trying to make you happy.” He took off his baseball cap and scratched his head. G.T. appeared agitated. After taking a deep breath, she attempted to take him out of his misery. “What did you need?” Danika, crossed her legs and rested her hand on the arm of the chair. “Did you find a beauty queen that you want for me to corner in the bathroom?” G.T. chuckled. “I’ve dated a couple of them but they’re not the only women I date.” “Look, we all can’t be shallow like you and go for pageant beauties. If I were to pick good looks or brains, brains would win hands down every time.” G.T. stood still. “What if you could have both?” She felt her eyebrow rut together. “That’s why I pulled you out here. I watched you dancing with Alfred. It bothered me.” Actually, considering the man had smashed her toes, dancing with Alfred bothered Danika, too. 44

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“Really?” “No, excuse my language. It pissed me off to see you with another man.” He took off his hat to talk to her. “I want you. If you’re not willing to give me a chance, there’s nothing left for the two of us.” G.T. replaced his hat on his head. He walked away from her.

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Chapter Seven No way would Danika let G.T. leave on that note. “G.T., wait!” She chased him to the elevator but he slipped inside. The doors closed in her face. She couldn’t run up all of those flights of stairs in her heels. Pushing the elevator button repeatedly, Danika stared at the numbers above the doors again, hoping to get to him before he locked himself into his room or worse, left the hotel. Once she got into the elevator, it felt as though it was stopping on each floor. “Come on. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!” She moved back and forth in the empty car until she reached her floor. The moment the door opened she out of the elevator. She raced down the hall in time to catch G.T. walking out of his room with his bag. “G.T., where are you going?” She tried his trick of standing directly in front of him but he moved around her. “Home.” “Wait. Will you just wait a minute, please?” He stopped at the end of the hall, turned to stare at her then walked back to where she stood. G.T. dropped his bag, framed Danika’s face with his large hands and kissed her with such passion she thought she would explode. He slid his tongue into her mouth, and she accepted it eagerly. Sucking on his tongue, she decided that every part of G.T.’s body deserved this treatment. For a split second, G.T. broke from the kiss and stared at her. He opened his mouth. Danika placed a finger on his lips. “No talking.” All they needed to do was enjoy each other and the moment. G.T. smothered her in kisses, walking her backwards down the hallway. “Key,” he said in between. “Purse.” “Pocket.” “Your room. Closer.” 46

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“Got it.” With Danika’s back pressed against the door, G.T. reached into his pocket to retrieve his card. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside, kissing her the entire time. The light-headed feeling Danika had with him earlier returned with a vengeance. Her heart pounded so hard she felt her head throb with each beat. Her insides contracted but she didn’t care. Nothing matter to her. At that moment, she needed G.T. He would sustain her, satisfy her, fulfill her. “One sec.” G.T. turned back to the door and put out his “Do Not Disturb” sign along with bolting the door closed. When he returned, Danika undid his shirt after she discarded her purse onto his dresser. He tossed his hat onto the dresser. As fast as her fingers worked to unbutton his shirt, his worked even faster to unzip her dress. G.T. eased her dress down her arms while she worked on his cuffs then took off his shirt. She didn’t hide her gasp as soon as she saw his muscled chest covered with fine light brown hairs. She ran her fingers over the silky hair then kissed his nipples. As soon as her lips touched his pebbled nipple, he moaned. Just hearing his reaction erected goose bumps over her flesh. She continued kissing his chest, then kissing her way down his flat stomach to his navel. Had Danika known that this country boy was hiding a body like this under his overalls, she would have gotten him out of them a long time ago. He slipped her dress down her body. G.T. stared at her body as though hers was the first female body he’d ever seen. Seeing him stare at her in awe hardened Danika’s nipples. G.T. guided her backwards to the bed, setting her down on it as he remained standing. As though on instinct, Danika reached forward and started undoing his belt. To her amazement, he grabbed her hands to stop her. “Let me.” G.T. pulled out a chair under the desk in his room and took a seat. With a bit of a struggle, he pulled off one boot. Danika did everything she could to keep from laughing. Even G.T. had to smile as he wrestled with the other boot. He ripped off his socks then padded back to her, undoing his belt and jeans on the way. When his pants fell to the floor, Danika couldn’t help but be impressed by two things. One, he had on black silk boxers. And two, his erection 47

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protruded through the opening, and the length and girth made her blink, and blink again, as she looked at him.. She reached down to take off her shoes when G.T. held up his hand to stop her. “Keep them on,” he said then flashed a sly grin. He bent down and kissed her while he undid her bra in a matter of seconds. Her stunned expression must have registered with him. “I told you I was an expert as women’s lingerie.” He winked. “What else are you great at?” G.T. loomed over her, making Danika recline back and crawl backwards on the bed until she reached the headboard. G.T. positioned himself next to her. While keeping his head propped up on his hand as he lay on his side, he closed his eyes. With his free hand, he touched her forehead ever so lightly, like a feather coasting down her skin. He floated his fingertips over her nose and to her lips where he outlined them with the tip of his middle finger. The light sensation raised the hairs on her body. She squirmed at the intimate touch when he feathered his fingers down her neck and between her breasts. Danika wanted to crawl out of her skin under his sensual touch. As soon as he caressed her breasts, moving from one to the other in slow, languid moves, she moaned. When he leaned down and licked her nipple, she mewled. She arched her back, wanting more of his hot mouth on her skin. As he licked her nipple, his hand continued its trek over her body, smoothing down her arms all the way to her fingertips then down the side of her body. Being ticklish, Danika squirmed and let out a giggle. G.T. moved over to her other nipple, giving it the same treatment. By now, his skilled hand reached her thong. Hooking the side of it in his finger, he tugged on it. He broke away from her body long enough to pull her panties down her legs. She thought he had admired her body before. Now he stared at her like she was an exquisite museum piece. To encourage him to continue doing what he was doing before, she took his hand and kissed his palm. Then she placed his hand on her belly. Ever so slowly, she guided him down to touch her deep inside. 48

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 .T. didn’t hesitate. The same easy care he’d given to the rest of G her body, he did the same for her heated sex. He stroked her. Then his emboldened fingers dipped down, stroking her nether lips as Danika writhed in pleasure. She ran her tongue over her lips. Her hands gripped the comforter as she relished the treatment. Her legs spread, giving him more access.. G.T. removed his hand long enough to take off his boxers and position himself between her legs. Danika wanted him inside of her now. That was where he wanted to be and he was planning on giving her the ultimate sexual ecstasy. Starting with her feet, he kissed each toe. With his warm tongue, he licked her from her ankle to the apex between her thighs. Danika gripped the headboard in expectation that he would satisfy her with his mouth. Instead he teased her, blowing on her clitoris, making the protruding nub throb. Danika arched her back. This man knew how to play her body. Without penetration, he made her his woman. Using his fingers, he spread her open to expose her clit. Like he’d done it before, G.T. licked the length of her womanhood. Just the one swipe made Danika arch her back. He continued teasing her that way, licking her until the need built up inside of her released into a long scream, and the juices flowed from between her legs. “Baby, please. Now.” She reached her hand for him. He’d already given her one magnificent climax. Time for her to return the favor. G.T. climbed over her body like a ravenous tiger. To make sure he wouldn’t be leaving her anytime soon Danika wrapped her long legs around him. From the way he kissed her , hungrily, as though he couldn’t get enough of her, she knew she had him captured. “Danika,” he said. She stared at him. In that moment he entered her, easing his length until he was buried to the hilt. The delicious feeling made her claw at his back, something that made him grimace but didn’t stop the motion. While staring into her eyes, never breaking the connection, he made slow, easy thrusts inside of her. He filled her completely. Cradling the back of her head, he continued his movements, ever so slowly increasing his 49

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speed. It took no time for the compression that had only occurred in Danika’s stomach to move down to her vaginal walls, squeezing him in concert with each stroke. Whereas Danika felt like she would explode at any moment, G.T. looked in control, never breaking his stare. The love in his gaze overwhelmed Danika. She kissed him, tasting her sweet salty juices on his lips. Then she moved her mouth down the side of his smooth face to his neck. She nibbled his taut flesh, tasting its natural saltiness. Something in the way Danika looked or a sound she made or how her hands moved on his body must have signaled to G.T. that an orgasm was imminent. He hooked one of her legs under his arm and moved faster. Danika gyrated her hips to match his movements. They fell into a natural rhythm that she’d never had with anyone before. He massaged her breast, twirling his thumb around her nipple. Her internal muscles constricted around his hardened penis. Drowning in sensory overload, Danika couldn’t hold off any longer. She fisted his hair as she gripped his hips with her legs. This man, this moment, this feeling were all too scintillating to ignore. The moan she released when she came may have been heard by other hotel guests on her floor. Danika didn’t care. She relaxed her arms and legs as she came down from the orgasmic high. In a surprising move, G.T. pulled out of her long enough to lift her in his arms and carry her over to a waist-high dresser. After sitting her on the piece of furniture and positioning himself between her legs, he said, “You didn’t think the ride was over, did you?” Danika smiled. “I’m going to make sure you will never forget this night.” Just as she had imagined earlier, G.T. made love to her against almost every wall, in the bathroom, on the floor and even in the shower. When he finally came, releasing a growl that would frighten any bear back into its cave, she wanted him all over again. G.T. was right. She would never forget this night, not in this lifetime. God help her. Danika fell for a country Bubba. Now what in the hell was she supposed to do? 50

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Chapter Eight Danika stirred from sleep. When she opened her eyes and glanced around the room, she’d almost forgotten where she was. Seeing G.T.’s baseball cap on the dresser brought home her location and what she’d done. Last night’s love making session burned in Danika’s brain. Reminiscing brought a smile to her face. The smile dropped when she realized she was alone. When she heard G.T.’s distinct voice in the next room, her smile returned. Danika slid out of the bed. Careless of how her hair looked or the fact that she was walking around nude, she padded to the door. Just to be sure G.T. was in the room by himself, she cracked open the door. She found him sitting on the couch in a pair of loose-fitting shorts and a T-shirt with his laptop perched on the coffee table. Danika pushed the door open. For show, she leaned against the doorframe. “Good morning, G.T.” G.T. just stared at her. She sauntered to him, swaying her hips until she reached him. She straddled his lap and put her hands on his shoulders. “Let’s try this again. Good morning, G.T.” She kissed him. “You got that right.” He grabbed her ass cheeks and gave them a squeeze. “Since we’ve broken down that last barrier in our relationship, I’ve been dying to know what the G in G.T. stands for. I know your middle name is Todd from your bank application.” She rubbed the sides of his neck with her thumbs. G.T. leaned his head back on the couch. “You know if I tell you, I have to kill you.” “Can I pick the method?” She wriggled on his lap. The motion must have been enough to break him. “You cannot tell a soul this. Only my family knows and no one has called me this since my mother passed away.” Danika gazed into his eyes. “Gracious.” She blinked, not expecting that one. “Are you serious?” 52

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 .T. nodded. “It took a long time for my mother to conceive me. When G she finally did, she felt it was by the grace of God that she was blessed with a child. If I was a girl, she would have called me Grace. Instead she called me Gracious. The name Todd comes from my great grandfather. Sarah and my two brothers got off easy as far as their names. When I got old enough, I had my name legally changed to G. Todd Pitall. Growing up, people just called me G.T.” “I like it.” “You would have gotten along great with my mother. You’re the only one who hasn’t laughed after hearing my real name.” Danika’s smile widened. “I’m going to give you a whole new appreciation for your birth name.” She reached her hand down in between their bodies and pulled his shorts down enough to free his hard-on. G.T. wriggled under her to push it down more. As Danika held the base of his shaft, she raised her body enough to get herself over the tip, then impaled herself onto him. The breathtaking feeling she remembered from last night repeated itself. As he held her hips, Danika gyrated back and forth. “You are so sexy and beautiful.” G.T. kissed her neck when she tilted her head back. Danika couldn’t speak. The feeling proved too much for her to handle. She ground down harder on him as he jutted his hips upward to get deeper access. Just like last night, it didn’t take Danika long to come. Knowing G.T., he could go on all day. Danika wasn’t so sure her body could handle another repeat performance. She had to do something to provoke him. She leaned forward and put her face by his ear. “I want you to fuck me in your barn.” Danika didn’t know if it was the suggestion, how she said it or the fact that she was so raw and explicit. Whatever it was caused G.T. to buck his hips wildly as he held onto her waist. With deep growl he came hard inside of her. As they both panted, Danika managed to catch her breath to say, “Good Gracious.” G.T. laughed so hard he shook her body. “You’re right. That would be the only time I love hearing my name. Let’s just stay inside all day.” 53

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Danika giggled. “Sounds like a great plan but you have a business to run. And eventually I’ll have to go back to work.” G.T. wrapped his arms around her waist. “But not now. Now I have you here all to myself. And it’s the weekend so I’ll have you all day and all night.” The mention of the night triggered something in Danika. “I can’t stay tonight.” “Why? You can’t handle me all day? I promise to give you breaks here and there.” She braced her hands on his arms and tried pushing off of him. He wasn’t letting her go. “No, I have plans tonight.” “Yeah, plans to be naked like a jaybird and keeping me company.” He kissed her chest and moved down to her breast. Before he could latch on, Danika managed to lift his head so that she could look him in the eyes. “I have a meeting.” “Meeting?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Yes, with Alfred Oliver.” G.T. scowled. “You mean a date?” “No, not a date, really.” “How could you still want to keep that date after what we did last night?” G.T. let her go. She stood and moved to the other side of the room, suddenly feeling cold. “Because what we did last night and where I’m going tonight are two different things. I truly am meeting Alfred for business.” “Isn’t that the type of relationship you wanted, a business one not a romantic one? I want you here.” G.T. stood and pulled up his shorts. “I need you to trust me.” Anger consumed Danika’s body. “In business, I trust you completely. In romance?” G.T. shook his head. “I don’t know. When you were telling me about your perfect man last night, I saw a side of you that I didn’t like. And now you’re off chasing after Alfred, who, by the way, may not be the best person to associate yourself with, especially not in business.” “And why is that?” Danika, with her hand on her hip, tried hard to look indignant. It was hard to carry off the appearance when she was still 54

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completely nude. “He wants me to do a business venture. I don’t think it’s ethical.” Danika shook her head. “I don’t believe you. First you hook me up with this guy and now you’re talking crap about him? You’re just jealous.” G.T.’s eyes widened. “Jealous?” He picked up his laptop and stormed over to her. “Take a gander at this.” He punched a few keys and brought up a screen. Danika didn’t study the screen. Dollar amounts were scattered over the page. She knew enough to look for the bottom line figure. What she saw made her blink but not for the reason G.T. must have thought. He showed her an account with more than one-hundred million dollars in it. The account he had at her bank branch barely had half a million in it. “That’s just one account.” G.T. kept punching keys. “I have dozens of accounts like these. If a man with money is what you want, I’m your man.” Danika put her hand to her stomach. If she hadn’t swallowed and turned her gaze away from G.T., she would have gotten sick. Gone was the sweet man who could make her laugh. Replacing him was a jerk who thought all she cared about was money. “You bastard.” She ducked into the bedroom and threw on her dress. “Danika, wait.” G.T. set down his computer and tried to get her attention. “Go to hell.” She wriggled out of his grip and made sure she left nothing behind. Her broken heart would have to stay there in the room. “I’m sorry,” G.T. said when she reached the door. “Damn right, you are. If you think that all I care about is money, then you don’t know me at all. Thanks for another memorable Bitter Ball.” Inside of her hotel room, Danika collapsed to the floor and sobbed. To hear anyone else accuse her of being a gold digger would bother her, but it wouldn’t hurt like this. To hear G.T. make the accusation cut her to the core. He didn’t even let her explain about the fact that she was only seeing Alfred Oliver about a job. To make up some story that he was some bad businessman was not only juvenile it was also so transparent. The one person she thought she could rely on to believe her no matter what, turned out to be like everyone else. Too bad she’d fallen in love with G.T. 55

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Chapter Nine “No, I said I needed that delivery today, not in two days,” G.T. said into his cell phone as he paced in his barn. “Get it done or I’ll go to another damn supplier!” He clicked the phone closed. If Sarah hadn’t snatched the phone out of his hand, it would have been smashed. “Don’t you have a market to oversee?” He reached for his phone but she kept it back. “As manager, I left it for my supervisor to take care of.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “As your sister, I wanted to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been irritable since the Ball.” “I’m fine.” “Baloney. You were okay when I left you at the table last night. What changed?” G.T. didn’t want to tell her that in a span of one evening, he made love to and fell in love with Danika. Then he managed to screw it up by accusing her of being money hungry. He would never be able to erase the hurt expression on her face. “What happened with you and Danika? I saw you walking out of the party with her.” G.T. strolled down the line of cows. “I messed that one up. I wouldn’t be surprised if she never talked to me again.” He walked over to a swinging gate and looked out at the barren pasture. “So I win the bet that you would somehow ruin the best thing that ever happened to you.” “Yeah for you.” G.T. twirled his finger in the air. Sarah climbed the wooden gate and straddled it. “So what did you do? Maybe she can forgive you.” He shook his head. “Not this time. You know Danika and I had made plans to find dates for one another.” Sarah nodded. “I told Alfred Oliver about her.” Sarah contorted her face. “You didn’t.” “I thought they would have a lot in common.” 56

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“Yeah, like she thought you would have something in common with Horseface Hannah?” She laughed. “You two are just alike. You’re both stubborn. By the way, that Oliver guy is no catch. He was all over my feet last night when we danced and his hands were all over my ass.” “What?” G.T. rolled his sleeves up as though the man was standing in front of him. “Easy, Thor. I handled myself. Let’s just say he can now do the falsetto part of any Earth, Wind and Fire song.” G.T. gripped the gate. “Great. What if Danika doesn’t know any selfdefense moves?” “Why would she need to know how to defend herself?” “She’s has a meeting with him tonight.” G.T. curled his fingers in the air to symbolize quotation marks when he said the word “meeting.” “Oh, she’s probably talking to him about that community project his bank is doing.” G.T. turned to his little sister. “The same thing he proposed to me?” “Does it have to do with low-income housing?” G.T. nodded. “No, he’s supposed to be building some new high-rise condos.” Connecting what his sister had told him to the proposal he read, G.T. figured out Alfred’s plan. G.T. grabbed his phone from Sarah’s hand. “No time to explain. I got to stop her.” He said as he ran pass his sister. Even if Danika hated him, he had a duty to warn her. What Alfred was proposing was wrong. He would have to do everything possible to convince Danika to trust him.

w “This is a beautiful restaurant,” Danika said as she glanced around at the Mexican décor. “Glad you like it. They have some of the best margaritas in town.” Alfred gave her the okay sign. The first thought that entered Danika’s mind was that she should invite G.T. to this place. Too bad she wasn’t talking to him anymore. Her heart begged to see him, have him hold her again, touch her, send her body to that heavenly orgasmic bliss again. “Miss Grooms, are you okay?” Alfred waved his hand in front of her. “I’m fine. Sorry, you said that you were going to tell me more about 57

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your project.” “Like I said before, the position will require the right person to meet with civic leaders and officials about the housing situation. I expect that with the right person, they’ll be willing to do just about anything.” At that cryptic statement, Danika blinked. “What do you mean?” Alfred leaned across the table. “It’s no secret that the city is cleaning up a lot of the run-down areas.” Excitement filled her. This assignment was right up her alley. “You want to help the current residents get loans to buy homes? I think that’s great!” A pained expression crossed Alfred’s face. “We need someone to get these people out of their houses so that demolition can start and we can build luxury homes.” A boulder sank in Danika’s belly. “So you’re going to build them better homes.” “Condos.” “Will they be able to pay the same amount of rent that they’re paying now?” This time Alfred blinked. “If they can afford the mortgages on these homes, they can move back in.” Danika gripped her hands on the table to keep from slapping this man. “You’re evicting these people. What kind of person are you?” “In business, it doesn’t matter what kind of person I am. It’s all about getting paid at the end of the day. You understand that, right?” What Danika understood was that if she got involved with him, she would end up being as morally corrupt as he was. At this moment, she really missed G.T. He had tried warning her but she chalked up his reaction to jealousy. “I suddenly lost my appetite.” She set her napkin on the table and stood. “You’re leaving? I’ll double the salary. You’ll get a better title, an expense account, whatever you want.” Alfred remained seated but stared at her. “Yes, but I won’t like myself very much. I want to help people, Mr. Oliver, not hurt them. I thought having the title and money would be all that I need in life. It’s not.” She picked up her purse. “I hope you fail miserably. Have a good night.” 58

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Danika turned from the table and headed out of the restaurant. Telling off Alfred felt good, but not as good as doing that and being able to tell her best friend. Too bad she was no longer talking to G.T. Now she really felt alone.

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Chapter Ten Since Danika’s cell phone kept going straight to voicemail, G.T. sat outside of her condo building waiting for her. He hoped she would be coming home soon. He knew deep down that she wouldn’t spend the night with Alfred. He knew enough about Danika to know that despite what she said about her type of relationship, the woman was a romantic at heart. A set of headlights flashed at G.T. when a car rounded a corner, heading for the garage. He sat in his truck and waited to see if Danika would be alone. He waited until he saw Danika step out of her ride before he jumped out of his pickup truck and ran to her, his heart pounding. “Danika!” She whipped her head around. “Stay away from me!” “I know you’re upset at me, and you have every right. But please hear me out.” He kept a safe distance away from her so that she knew he wasn’t out to hurt her…not again. “Why should I?” She pointed her house key at him. “Because I’m coming to you as a friend.” He watched her stare at him. “Please.” Something he said must have registered. Danika’s shoulders relaxed and she lowered her hand. She let out a long, exhausted sigh. If she only knew that if she would let him, he would take away every burden she had. Much like the elevator ride at the hotel the night before, neither one of them spoke a word to each other. G.T. didn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing and having Danika kick him out before he even made it inside. He wasn’t sure why Danika didn’t curse him out while she had him in a confined space. G.T. was certainly waiting for it. Instead she looked like the world weighed down on her shoulders. It took everything he had inside not to reach out and rub her weariness away. When the elevator doors opened, Danika stepped out first and stomped to her door. She unlocked it, then turned to G.T. 60

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G.T. closed the door behind himself. “Okay, talk.” She threw her purse and keys onto a table by her front door. “How was your date?” he asked. She glared at him. G.T. held up his hand. “Sorry. Meeting.” “Short.” G.T. rutted his eyebrows. “He proposed this stupid plan to kick people out of their low-income housing homes to build luxury condos they can’t afford.” “I know. I tried calling you to warn you but I kept getting your voicemail.” “I always turn my phone off when I’m in a meeting.” She glared at him again. “When did you know about Alfred’s plan?” “After I read the proposal. The reason he wanted me to build my natural foods produce stores in those areas was to make the place more desirable to a high-end buyer. I knew there was something suspicious about his proposal but I couldn’t figure out the angle.” G.T. moved closer to her. “I’m so sorry I tried hooking you up with that guy. He’s successful for a reason. But he’s morally bankrupt.” “It’s not your fault.” Danika dropped her arms by her sides. She gazed down on the floor then peered up. “Was that all you wanted to talk to me about?” “No.” He took another step closer to her. So far, Danika stayed in her position. G.T. took off his hat and held it in his hands. “If I could take back this morning, I would.” He shook his head, thinking about how he showed off his money to her as though Danika would have been impressed. He knew she wasn’t that type of woman. “Why?” she asked simply. “I hurt you.” She shook her head. “Why did you say and do those things in the first place? I know some of this is my fault. I told you that I wanted a businessman as a romantic partner. But I didn’t think that you would take that to mean that I wanted a rich man.” “I didn’t know that. I had a really bad relationship that I never told you 61

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about.” He chuckled. “Imagine. Me not telling my best friend about one of the worst breakups in my life.” A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You think of me as your best friend?” G.T. took another step closer. “Absolutely. You’re the only one who laughs at my stupid jokes.” He smiled. “I was in a long-term relationship with a woman named Clara. I thought for sure I would marry her. We were even supposed to go into business together. Then one day she up and left me for a man who offered her a better business deal.” “Did he?” Danika eased down on the couch and crossed her long legs. G.T. stared at her supple limbs and thought about how he was in between them just that morning. He longed to be in that position again. He licked his lips. In order to get his mind off her incredible body, he stared directly into her eyes. “They started some honey-based shampoo company. They do okay.” Danika smiled. “Nothing like your produce and dairy farm, huh?” G.T. walked up to her and dropped down to her feet. If he had to grovel, he needed to be in the right position. “After you said the type of relationship you wanted, everything I went through with Clara flashed back through my mind. It’s the reason I only date models and beauty queens. I didn’t want to get hurt again. And I thought in order to keep you in my life I needed to fight using a weapon I thought would get your attention. What I should have done was fight using my heart.” Danika let out a long sigh. “You still don’t get it. What you did this morning hurt me not because you thought I was some gold digger, but also because you didn’t trust me.” “I know.” He nodded. “You should have believed me that I was only meeting Alfred for business.” “You’re right.” He reached for her hand. When she didn’t pull away from him, his heart pounded harder. “Old fears cropped up again.” “I know what you mean.” She stroked her fingers down the side of his face. The feel of her touch sent a shiver through his body. He longed to feel 62

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her again since early that morning. “I had some fears, too. The whole reason I said I wanted a businessman as a romantic partner was because of my parents.” G.T. blinked hard. “Aren’t your parents divorced?” Danika nodded. “Yes, for quite some time now. I just can’t reconcile in my head how two people who truly loved each other can’t make a relationship work.” She stared at him. “I love you, G.T.” Just to hear the words made everything around him spin. If a lightning bolt came down through her condo and struck him in the head, he could die a happy man. “And last night for the first time, I saw you in a different way. I started noticing how wonderful you are and how good you are to me. I had fallen for you long before I could admit it to myself. But I was afraid that if we were to get together and something caused us to break up, I would be so devastated.” “So would I, darlin’.” He put her hand to his chest so that she could feel his heart beating. Tears pooled on her bottom eyelid. When she blinked, they flowed down her cheeks. “I couldn’t take not having you in my life.” She wiped under her eyes. “You’re the wrong pair of shoes.” G.T. blinked at her statement. “Before the party, I had on a different dress but I broke the heel off of one of the shoes I was going to wear with the dress. My mother had suggested I still wear the dress and put on a different pair of shoes. I told her I couldn’t because it didn’t match. She said that it didn’t matter if the shoes didn’t match the dress. All that mattered was that I walk around with my head held high and I have a good time.” She planted a soft kiss on his lips. “I thought our differences would be too much for me to handle. It’s not. I feel more confident about myself and about us when I’m with you. I don’t care if it looks like we don’t go together because I have a great time when I’m with you.” “Good, it makes this next part really easy to say, and I’m in the right position.” G.T. reached in to his pocket as Danika’s eyes got wider and wider. He pulled out a black velvet ring box and opened it. What Danika saw inside made her laugh. G.T. smiled as he took out the cigar band from the box. “It’s not much, 63

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but I want you to have it.” “G.T., what is that?” “Danika Grooms, since the very first day I saw you at my farmer’s market, I knew you were the one for me. Danika, will you marry me?” She split her gaze between the cigar band and his eyes. “How can I say no? Yes, I’ll be your wife.” After slipping the paper band around her ring finger, she smothered him in kisses. To bring him in even closer, she opened her legs and wrapped them around her body as his hands rested on her waist. After he broke from the kiss he said, “Sorry for the ring. It was pretty last minute. I wanted to get you a ring that you would love so I’ll wait for you to pick it out.” Danika brushed her thumb over G.T.’s lips. “Oh, honey. A ring should be something that you pick out special for me. It should be a symbol of your love, how you envision us. I don’t want to pick it. I love this band. I’m proud to wear this band.” “You are?” He reached into another pocket. “Then I guess you don’t want to even see this one.” Danika reached for it but G.T. kept it away from her. “Let me see it!” She scooted to the end of the couch until she fell off of it and on top of G.T., straddling him on the floor. “If you insist.” He held the box up and cracked it open. Just seeing her expression as she stared at the platinum ring with rare pink and yellow diamonds gave him a tingle. “It’s a family heirloom. My great granddaddy gave it to me to give to the woman who captured my heart.” “Are you sure you want to give me something like this? It’s a part of your family.” Her hands trembled as she held the ring. “You are my family.” Danika leaned down to kiss him when he stopped her. “There is one problem.” “What?” “I can’t run away with your mother now. Think she’ll be upset?” Danika laughed. “Knowing her, yes, she will be. But she’ll be happy that I’m happy.” “And I’ll have to close out my account at your bank. I don’t want to mix business with pleasure.” 64

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She pressed her body on his. “Mr. Pithall, it would be my pleasure to close your account.” “Do you mind if we skipped the Ball next year?” She smiled harder. “We should do something that day, don’t you think?” “Wedding?” Danika nodded. “Until then, let’s practice for the honeymoon.” “Who knew I could fall in love with a country Bubba?” G.T. raised his hand. “I knew. You should have asked me.” “I love you, G.T.” She smoothed her hand over his hair. “I knew that, too.” He laughed. “I love you too, Danika.” “And now I’ll yanky your wanky.” He released a loud laugh. “Have mercy!” And now that he had his beauty with brains, G.T. felt blessed to have it all. Never again would he and Danika have another Bitter Ball. The End

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The Heart Wrangler By Lena Matthews

Lena Matthews

Chapter One Fucking Internet. The instructions were simple. Make a right off Exit Thirty Seven B. Only there hadn’t been an Exit Thirty Seven B. Hell, there hadn’t been an Exit Thirty Seven anything. Georgia thought to double back after going ten miles past where her exit was supposed to be and what did she get for her trouble? Two flat tires. Two! One flat she could fix. Two was the beginning of a cheesy horror movie. To make matters worse, her fully charged GPS boasting cell phone didn’t get a freaking signal. So she was stuck, walking under the hot Arizona sun, sweating out her relaxer as if it was fifth period gym. The only thing that saved her sanity was the ‘Welcome to Bellefontaine’ marker her car had skidded to a halt beside. The sign boasted of a whopping population of twelve hundred but Georgia only needed one of them to own a tire shop and tow truck. She didn’t think she was asking for much. The most amazing part was, despite her car’s version of Pop Goes the Weasel, Bellefontaine was the town she’d been heading for in the first place. The school board and Amber better hope the rest of the city made a better impression on Georgia, or as soon as her tires were changed she was out of there. This was all Amber’s fault. Okay, the flat tires weren’t, but the fact she was in the middle of nowhere in the sweltering heat, was. Best friend, my ass. “Come to Bellefontaine,” Georgia mocked in a high pitched version of Amber’s voice. “You can stay with me. It will be just like old times.” Old times didn’t used to include heatstroke. To think, she allowed Amber to convince her that moving to Arizona was a good idea. Arizona, for Pete’s sake, where the only two redeeming qualities were Amber and Sterling. Amber, because she was her friend, and Sterling, because...well, he was Georgia’s friend as well, but she was hoping he wanted to be more. A whole lot more. Mapquest could kiss her ass. Doubled over, with her hands on her knees, Georgia Rothe drew in a deep breath as she blinked sweat from 67

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her burning eyes. Standing in the packed parking lot of The Roundup, her best friend Amber Kane’s honky-tonk country bar, Georgia sighed with relief. Either she had finally found some signs of life or she was tripping from the flat soda she had dragged with her on her hour-long trek down the dustiest road she’d ever seen. Just thinking of her lengthy walk had Georgia fuming. With a disgusted sigh, she took in another deep breath to gather herself together. Bad idea. Dust invaded her nose. Wheezing, she stood up and wiped her dusty arm across her face, trying to clear her vision and breathe. To her relief it wasn’t a mirage. Neither the automobiles nor the bar disappeared. She was going to live, even if it was just for a few minutes longer. “I’m going to Amber,” she panted, as she made her way up the paved driveway. Georgia had never been so happy to see so many pickup trucks in her life. The heat from the afternoon sun beat down on her drenched shirt, making the few steps to the saloon-like doors seem miles away. Of all the days to get two flat tires, the day when she forgot to put deodorant on wouldn’t have been her first choice. So, not only was she soaked to the bone from her own perspiration, she also stunk to high heaven. Her smell wasn’t the only thing on her mind though, as she pushed through the doors of the bar. As if on cue, every eye in the place turned in her direction when she entered the room. Blinking repeatedly, Georgia waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room before she took another step. When her vision cleared, what she saw made her say a silent prayer. Jesus, if I don’t get lynched, I swear, in your father’s name, to take my black tail to church on Sunday. When Amber told her that she and her brother, Sterling, had bought a bar with their inheritance, Georgia had pictured a pool hall or something. The name Roundup should have been her first warning she wasn’t in Cali anymore. Georgia didn’t know what she’d expected, but what she got was a room full of men and women wearing cowboy hats. They had cowboys in Arizona? She knew they had at least one, counting Sterling. Apparently it was contagious. Sterling had been rubbing off on people left and right, if the filled room was anything to go by. Isn’t that just wonderful? Georgia hated cowboy hats, thanks to Sterling. 68

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Despite the lack of popularity of Stetsons in San Diego, Sterling had worn a cowboy hat ever since she’d known him. Ten long years of patching up cuts and fretting over bruises from fights due to his stubbornness had left her with a hatred for the hats and what they symbolized. Namely, the pain he’d gone through to stand by his principles and wear what he damn well wanted. And now, since she was the only soul not wearing a hat, she was the one sticking out. Wasn’t that some shit. Her whitey sensors started to tingle as she ran her gaze over the faces of the crowd. Normally when Georgia entered a room, the first thing she did was check the number of black people in the place. She always wanted to know who would have her back if something went down. Unfortunately, she was the only black person in the room and neither Amber nor Sterling were anywhere in sight. She was going to have to have her own back. Damn. Since she had everyone’s attention, she might as well put it to good use. “I need a tall glass of cool water and a man.” A rough chuckle rippled throughout the room at her turn of phrase. The tension, which had been mounted high upon her shoulders, melted away at the easy grins that flew her way. Apparently cowboy wasn’t synonymous with Klan. Good to know. “Well, honey, you’ve come to the right place.” A man who was more round than he was tall stood up and pulled out a chair at his table for her. “Why don’t you rest yourself over here and let Larry take care of all your needs?” “What I need--” Georgia stressed the word to drive home her point, “-- is water.” She was too thirsty to quip phrases right now. Bypassing the man, Georgia headed straight for the bar. Now that she knew she wasn’t going to have to fight, she could concentrate on more important issues, like not vomiting. All the seats at the bar had been occupied when Georgia had entered, but by the time she made it across the room, several men had stood up to offer her their seat. Tired, but mindful of her last few remaining manners, Georgia 69

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attempted to smile as she muttered thank you and climbed on the stool. Before she could utter her request, a glass of water was set down before her with a lime wedge garnish. Her eyes watered, or they tried to, as she stared lovingly at the glass before her. Never had anything looked so good. With shaky hands, she grabbed the glass and clumsily brought it to her dry lips. The cool water danced across her tongue and filled her mouth with a refreshing burst of satisfaction before sliding down her parched throat. Eyes closed, Georgia savored every drop, moaning in appreciation as the crisp liquid quenched her desperate thirst. “Damn, I needed that,” she murmured to herself, as she sat the empty glass down. Water had never tasted so good before. “I’d say.” Georgia quickly opened her eyes and turned around. Amber, the bane to her current existence, was standing directly behind her, grinning like a hyena. “What took you so long?” “I hate you.” The pretty blonde pulled a disgruntled Georgia off the stool and into her arms, funk and all. “No you don’t. I’m so happy to see you.” “I can tell.” The overzealous woman was about to suffocate Georgia with her happiness. It was a sentiment she returned full force. Even though they talked every day either via the Internet or by phone, it had been three years since they’d seen one another in person. Being with Amber felt like coming home again. But still, Georgia needed to breathe. “Air.” “Sorry.” Amber pulled back. Her smile slid away as she took in Georgia’s rumpled appearance. “What in the world happened to you?” Where should she start? “Everything. My car had a flat. A couple of them. I had to walk through hell to get here. And I have sweat in my ass crack. Long story short, I pissed off the gods and they’re exacting their revenge.” “Damn.” “I’d say.” Sighing, Georgia ran her hand through her damp hair warily. If she looked half as bad as she felt, men were soon going to turn to stone from glancing her way. All she wanted to do now was shower and pass out. Maybe not even in that order. “Tell me your place is nearby.” 70

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Amber pulled her car keys out of her Daisy Duke-like denim shorts and thrust them in Georgia’s hand. “It isn’t nearby, but there is a private bathroom off the office. You can get cleaned up while we try to figure out what to do about your car.” “Toss a match at it and let it burn.” She never did like that car anyway. “Okay that’s an option.” Amber chuckled. “Sterling stepped out for a bit but when he comes back I’ll have him go get your car.” Cleaning up sounded heavenly, as did pushing her troubles into the capable hands of Sterling. “Lead the way.”

w Two flat tires. Sterling grinned as he listened to Amber recount Georgia’s amusing ordeal. Despite the unlikely scenario, he wasn’t surprised. Not at all. Georgia was the queen of buzzard luck. Truthfully, he was surprised she’d managed to reach twenty-three alive with all her limbs attached and in working order. Over the years, Sterling had saved her hide more often than he could count. He played rescue ranger to her damsel in distress so many times Sterling had fitted her with the nickname Trouble, because if there was any about, Georgia would surely get in it. When Amber and he had made the decision to move to Arizona, he’d worried something might happen to Georgia in his absence. From her Jerry Lewis-like entrance into town, he was willing to bet the last three years hadn’t left her entirely unscathed. “So where is she?” Sterling wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he was just as excited to see Georgia as Amber had been. The brown skinned beauty held a special place in his heart, reserved for grandmas and pesky sisters, and he couldn’t wait to see her again. “She’s in the bathroom straightening up.” When he went to move around his sister, Amber placed her hand on his chest to block him. “Now don’t you start in on her, Sterling.” “What are you talking about?” He tried hard not to allow his amusement to leak out. Every since Amber told him Georgia was moving to Bellefontaine, he’d been looking to start in on her again. Antagonizing each other was the foundation for the very nature of their relationship. For Amber to tell him to behave was ludicrous. 71

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He had to be true to himself. Amber wasn’t backing down though. With narrowed eyes, she stepped closer to him, poking him in the chest with her index finger as she did. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. No teasing.” “Who, me?” “Yes, you, blockhead. She’s had a long day.” Sterling brushed his sister’s hand away, amused by her boldness. The girls had always been very protective of each other. Some things never changed. “I’m not going to do a single thing.” He was going to do many things. “I just want to say hey and get the keys so I can move her car.” “You better behave.” “Chill, sis.” He raised his hands up and took a few steps back. “Your little bird will be just fine.” “She’d better be.” Smirking, Sterling went to find Georgia and see what havoc he might be able to cause before his sister could interfere. As he walked through the crowded bar, he nodded hello to the customers seated around. He was on a first name basis with the majority of the patrons and knew the last names of all the others. Bellefontaine wasn’t Walnut Creek, but it was a great town to live in. It was where he and Amber were born. Where they’d lived before moving to California with their aunt and uncle after their parents passed away. And although they lived in San Diego for the majority of their lives, the touristy town never felt much like home to him. Sterling was a simple man, with simple tastes. He liked his beer ice cold and from a bottle, his horses fast and spirited, and his women searing hot and naughty. He didn’t ask much out of life. Just to live it by his own rules, and here in Bellefontaine he could do that. He trained horses during the day and worked at his bar at night. Hopefully, if things continued on the path he’d set, in two more years he’d have enough money saved up to buy a spread of his own. Life, in general, as far as Sterling was concerned, was good. Despite having everything he could want and more, he was incomplete. Something was missing. For the life of him, Sterling couldn’t figure out what it was. At least he hadn’t until a few weeks ago when Amber told him Georgia was thinking of moving to Arizona. Then it hit him. The 72

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something wasn’t a something, but someone. Georgia. She had been a part of their lives from the moment Amber and he moved to San Diego. Literally. She’d been sitting on the steps of the house next door. In one fell swoop she’d proclaimed herself Amber’s new best friend and attached herself firmly to his sister’s hip, where she stayed for the next two decades. “Trouble,” he called out, as he pushed his office door open and stepped in. The bathroom door was slightly ajar and the sound of running water beckoned him closer. He could hear Georgia humming to herself. The familiar sound filled his soul with a bottomless sense of happiness. “Trouble, get your butt out here, girl.” “Sterling?” “The one and the only.” His long stride ate up the distance between the door and the bathroom. He stopped at his desk and leaned against the solid oak, waiting for his first peek at Georgia. Sterling could have waited a lifetime and he would have never been prepared for the vision that stepped from behind the door. Clad only in a red lace bra and jeans, Georgia burst into the room with a smile bright enough to light the Vegas Strip. She paused for a second before launching herself into his arms. Sterling had expected the bone-crushing hug. What he hadn’t anticipated was the quick glimpse of smooth chocolate skin he was treated to. Georgia had breasts! And from the feel of her pressed against him, they were a lush handful. When the hell did this happen? Sure Sterling knew she had breasts. She was a girl for Christ’s sake. He’d seen evidence of the fact behind t-shirts and one-piece swimsuits years ago, but they’d never felt like this. He was shocked at the discovery of his sister’s playmate all grown up. When in the world did that happen? She’d been as tiny as a kitten when she was younger. A lithe little frame with ashy elbows and skinned knees. Georgia wasn’t a kid anymore. The revelation was upsetting to say the least. Even more disturbing was the way his body was reacting to it. Ashamed and disgusted by the stirring of what felt like a soon to be massive erection, Sterling pushed her away from him, and promptly turned his back to her. “Where is your shirt?” 73

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“Shirt?” Georgia sounded amused. Was she laughing at him? Great. “Yeah, the thing you wear on top of your bra.” Just saying the word forced the images of her full supple breasts encased in the crimson peeka-boo lace. He had seen barbed fence that covered more than that. “In the trash. I don’t think all the Tide in the world is going to take the smell.” “I hope you have a back-up plan, because if you think you’re walking out this room without a shirt on, you’re wrong.” His gruff tone seemed only to amuse her more. “Yes, Dad. I do have a plan. Amber is giving me one of the shirts you sell here to wear. Consider me a walking, talking ad.” What he considered her was walking, talking trouble. But there wasn’t anything new about that. “Where is it?” “I can’t seem to remember at the present time,” Georgia walked up beside him and poked his arm, teasingly. From Sterling’s peripheral vision he could see her peering up at him. “Are you averting your eyes?” He didn’t know whether to spank her or strangle her. Georgia was taking far too much pleasure in his discomfort. “Get dressed. Now.” “Or...” Georgia, the brat that she was, walked all the way around until she was standing in front of him, with her hands planted firmly on her hips. Sterling was raised to be two things. A gentleman and a man. Sometimes, like now, the two butted heads. “I see you’re just as stubborn as you always were.” “I don’t know how you can see anything, with your eyes averted.” “And I can’t believe you’re walking around here, in public, I’d like to add, without a shirt on.” “No one’s in here but you and I.” She lowered her voice in a mock whisper. “And if you won’t tell, I won’t tell.” “Is there a point to all of this, Georgia?” Besides the one stirring behind his zipper. “Not really,” she admitted. “I just forgot how much fun it is to rile you.” “You haven’t seen me riled yet, Trouble.” “That sounds like a challenge to me,” she teased. “Tell me, Sterling, what do I have to do to rile you?” 74

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It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that slipping off her pants and bending over his desk might work, but he refrained from doing so. “You don’t want to know.” “Don’t I? Come on, cowboy. Take a peek. I dare you.” He refused to back down. If she wanted to play big girl games then she came to the right man. He wasn’t comfortable seeing her undressed like this, but he wasn’t going to let a mere slip of a girl best him. Lowering his eyes, he raked her body from head to toe with his heated gaze. He steeled his heart to steady his pulse. Lord, she was beautiful. His body hardened as he gazed at the perfection Mother Nature had wrought. She hadn’t changed much in three years. Minus the shirt, Georgia looked much the same as she had the last time he saw her. Even then, she’d been a knockout. A heartbreaker, wet dream maker, she was the epitome of everything he secretly desired but never could have. Although average height, she was no average woman. Her ebony skin was smooth and dark as chocolate, and her body was, in a word, sensational. She stood before him, so proud and confident, teasing him with forbidden fantasies. Thoughts, no matter how wicked, that would go unanswered. This was Georgia, his Trouble, and despite how sexy she was, hands off. With a cocky grin he didn’t feel, Sterling meet her eyes unflinchingly. “Looks like some things never change. You’re still trouble.”

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Chapter Two Trouble. Georgia wasn’t sure how she felt about Sterling calling her that annoying name anymore. And when he said she hadn’t changed, she almost hit the roof. The hell she hadn’t changed. When Amber and he left three years ago, Georgia had been just shy of her twenty-first birthday. A baby still, not the full-grown sexy diva she was now. How dare he not recognize the complete fabulousness of her, especially after all the trouble she went through to be here, with him. Georgia knew the real reason she was here in the middle of nowhere, in a cowboy bar for Pete’s sake, was because she’d finally admitted to herself that she was in love with Sterling. The admission had struck her completely out of the blue one morning. Although throughout the years Amber had hinted there might be something between them, Georgia had always laughed and denied the idea. But when she found herself once again hemming and hawing about agreeing to a permanent position at the school she was subbing at, she finally realized why. Her refusal to accept the job wasn’t from lack of interest in the position, but from a lack of interest in being somewhere Sterling wasn’t. And for all of her self-analyzing, what did she get? Sterling, falling back into the old familiar pattern of their youth. Despite what he thought, she wasn’t the disaster magnet he painted her to be. She just had her share of bad luck now and then. Nothing worthy of the evil moniker, Trouble. “I’ve changed.” His mouth spread in a wide easygoing smile. A smile as familiar to Georgia as her own. Yet these days, his lips were framed like a treasured work of art by a sexy as hell dark blond goatee. It wasn’t the only new thing about him, but it was one of the first things she noticed. Three years didn’t seem like a lot of time to pass, until she noticed the changes it had erected in a man she’d known as well as the back of her hand. He had always been handsome, even as a kid. Time, like milk, had done a body good. Gone was the lanky frame of his youth, and in its place 76

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was a brawny manly man, with muscles to spare. The Stetson he wore covered his wealth of blond hair, but even the low brim of the black hat couldn’t detract from his wicked cerulean eyes. Sterling was, and always would be, the best looking man around. Somehow during the last three years they’d spent apart, she had forgotten his affect on her, but now, standing before him, it was coming back in droves. “Two flat tires. Doesn’t look like it from here, Trouble. I’m surprised you managed all this time without me.” The dream-like haze that had taken over Georgia’s brain evaporated. There was something else she’d forgotten over the years about Sterling. He could be a bully. He was the quintessential big brother, whose overprotective instincts extended to Georgia, despite the lack of shared DNA. For once though, she wasn’t going to submit to his high-handed ways. He wasn’t her brother and it was about time he realized it. “Come on, Cowboy.” Sterling wasn’t the only one who could drag out childhood nicknames. If he wanted to call her by the pesky one he gave her, she’d call him by the one she gave him. Sure it was childish, but so what? “What part of me looks like trouble now?” To drive home her point, she did a three sixty slowly. Apparently there was something wrong with his vision if he didn’t notice the changes the last few years had wrought. If Georgia was being completely honest with herself, she’d admit it rankled her Sterling still saw her as a child. One of her secret fantasies was that she’d come to town and knock him for a loop. Sterling would see her as a woman and not just the childhood friend of his sister. And if Georgia had to stand around in her bra all day, she was going to get him to admit she wasn’t the same kid he’d known a lifetime ago. She was all woman now. His woman, if only he’d open his eyes. When she was facing him once more, the humor that had lingered in his big blue eyes had been washed away and replaced with a darker sinister look. Then to her annoyance, instead of being blown over with unquenched desire, the amused look came crashing back. To her further ire, he slowly brought his hands together and began to clap. 77

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“Now, that’s what I call a show.” Sterling’s mocking behavior was going to lead to his early death. “Let me get my wallet out and this time, when you spin around, I want you to shake your ass a bit and rub up against me.” “Excuse me?” “Well, darlin’, if you’re going to act like a stripper I want to make sure I treat you like one. I mean, I like a bit of flesh in the afternoon, like most guys. I’m just used to the required two drink minimum.” “You are such an ass.” Then because she couldn’t help herself, Georgia drew back her foot and kicked him as hard as she could in the shin. A cry of pain filled the room, but unfortunately for Georgia it came from her mouth. In her anger, she forgot she wasn’t wearing shoes. “Damn it.” The shooting pain blinded her for a moment. Sterling roared with laughter drowning out her guttural curses. “Like I said, same old Trouble.” “Don’t touch me.” She tried to dodge his hands to no avail. “This is all your fault.” “Of course it is.” The dry tone in his voice contradicted his placating words. “Come here, Trouble.” “No.” That’s the way to show him you’re an adult. “I can take care of myself.” “Really?” Ignoring her, Sterling reached down and scooped her into his arms. “Since when?” Georgia’s world tilted on its axis. Despite feeling completely secure in his arms, she clutched at his shirt and held on for dear life. “Scared?” he questioned. “Of you, never.” Of the way he made her feel, like a petulant child and a man-hungry woman, all at the same time, hell yes. “Why don’t you put me down?” “Why don’t you pipe down?” Sterling countered, as he walked around his desk. He made a move with his foot that she couldn’t see and brought his black leather chair sailing from behind the oak desk. He set Georgia down on his desk and then dropped down on the chair in front of her. He took off his hat and set it on the desk next to her. His blond hair was plastered to his head, yet it didn’t detract from his good looks. Only a man could get away with crap like that. If Georgia had been 78

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wearing a hat for hours, she would have looked like a drowned rat. Sterling just looked rugged, as if he’d come in from working hard on the range. And from some strange reason, that was working for her. While she had been staring at him like a lovesick fool, he’d gently brought her throbbing toes into his hands and began to softly probe them. “Where does it hurt?” His tender touch doused out any lingering anger Georgia might have had. Sure he was bullying her, but he was also being caring and sweet, and unfortunately for Georgia, irresistible. “My whole foot hurts.” “Just from kicking me?” The concern in his voice was touching. “No, not just that. It was a very long walk to town. I broke down mere inches from the ‘Welcome to Bellefontaine’ sign.” “Oh, that’s not far.” “Bet me it isn’t.” The dull ache that had been ever present since she’d strolled into the bar was becoming a fading memory under Sterling’s firm hands. “Maybe not far to drive, but you try walking in sandals down that long ass road and we’ll see how far it seems then.” “I’d rather not walk anywhere in sandals. The other cowboys would laugh at me.” The idea of anyone laughing at Sterling was amusing in itself. Even without the cowboy hat, he exuded testosterone by the ounce. He was the Marlboro Man, minus the impending cancer. From his outdoor woodsy scent, to his calloused hands, he was everything good about men. “Georgia? Georgia?” Reluctantly, she dragged her gaze from his firm fingers caressing her tendons to the knowing look in his penetrating eyes, wondering all the while how many times he’d called her name. “Yes?” Her voice sounded husky and she forced herself to clear her throat and try again. “You were saying?” He smiled. “Weren’t you listening?” “Not even a little bit,” she said honestly. When it came to Sterling, she was as gone on him as she had been when they were kids. Hell, he was right. She hadn’t changed at all.

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Sterling was a second away from drooling himself. If she didn’t get a shirt on, and get one on fast, he wouldn’t be held accountable for his actions. Her little dance had almost been his undoing. He had to repeat to himself, ‘She’s Amber’s friend’, as a continuing reminder of why it was bad news to grab her and kiss her like he really wanted to do. “So, umm, what did you say?” What in the world did he say? Think, man. Think. “I was just asking how your parents felt about you moving out here.” Smooth. His answer was almost plausible. “They’re of course worried about me moving to a new town, but knowing Amber and you live here as well makes it a bit more bearable. Truthfully, though, you know my dad. Nothing short of me moving back home will please him.” “Still overprotective?” “Is the sky blue?” Officer Calvin Rothe had taken his role as a father very seriously. He had been scary, yet caring, all at the same time. It was a very odd combination. “I’m surprised he let you leave the state without a police escort.” The sweet scent of cocoa butter filled his senses as Georgia leaned in close to him and smiled. “If I tell you something, you have to promise not to tell Amber, because she’d never let me hear the end of it.” “I promise.” He had a few secrets of his own he didn’t want to share at this moment. “My dad did a check for sexual predators and he also printed out a list of places I was supposed to avoid while here.” Now that was funny. “Really, like where?” Her big brown eyes crinkled in the corners in the most enchanting way as she smiled. It made Sterling want to do everything in his power to make sure she always had something to smile about. “Your bedroom was number one.” Sterling frowned. Okay that wasn’t funny. “And what is that supposed to mean?” “That you’re not to be trusted.” The little imp wasn’t even trying to hold back her amusement. “I’m very trustworthy.” 80

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“Well, I’ve been in town for less than a few hours and you already have me in a closed room, shirtless, with your hands roaming over my body.” “It’s your foot, Trouble,” he said dryly. “Not in my version of this story.” With a dramatic flare that would have made any actress proud, Georgia brought her hands together under her chin and batted her brown eyes. “He saved my foot, but took my virtue, all in the same day.” “Yes, that’s exactly how it happened.” “You have your version, and I have--” “Yes, I know. You have the truth.” He released his hold on her but instantly missed the feel of her in his hands. ”All better now, Trouble?” “I guess,” she grumbled, easing off the desk. “You know what? You’re the only person in the universe I’m this freaking clumsy around. I actually survived three whole years without a single mishap, injury, or accident.” “I can’t believe it.” “You should. The only way I can reason it out is this, it’s not me. It’s you. You’re a bad luck charm. My bad luck charm.” “Ha.” “That was a snappy comeback.” “I’m full of them.” The way they quickly slid into the familiar bantering made him smile. He really had missed having her around. “You’re full of something all right,” she teased. As he stared at her full pouty lips Sterling could imagine nibbling on them, teasing her to open her mouth, just a little. Not saying a word, he saw Georgia shift under his gaze. Her eyes were wide and her mouth parted as if she wanted to say something, although she remained silent. He leaned toward her, throwing caution to the wind. “Am I interrupting anything?” The masculine voice spilling into the room startled Sterling. With a muttered curse, he spun around and faced the smirking face of his pal, Lucky Tisdale, who was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, as if he had all the time in the world. All thoughts of nibbling faded away as he eyed the amused man. Talk about rotten timing. When Lucky’s gaze moved to Georgia, his amused looked quickly morphed into a lusty one, reminding Sterling of Georgia’s almost naked state. 81

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“Turn around. Now.” Sterling’s voice brooked no argument. The bastard didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t enjoying the view. Lucky was the closest friend Sterling had, but despite the affection he had for the younger man, Sterling would beat him to a pulp in a heartbeat. “Sure.” Lucky gave Sterling an evil grin before he slowly turned around. “What are you doing back here?” Not trusting his friend any further than he could throw him, Sterling stepped in front of Georgia, blocking her from Lucky in case he decided to get funny. “Hank stopped me when I came in. Said something about a newcomer. I just wanted to make sure I made her acquaintance.” “Did he now?” There went Hank’s tab, loud mouth drunk. “Wasn’t that friendly of you.” “I thought so.” Lucky turned his head a bit to the left so Sterling was in his line of sight and grinned. “Hey, newbie.” “Hey back.” The laughter in Georgia’s voice only irritated Sterling further. She was acting as if it was no big deal Lucky had seen her shirtless. “Nice to meet you.” “It’s nice to meet you as well.” Damn fools were acting like they were meeting at a social. “Of course, it would have been a lot nicer if I was actually wearing a shirt.” “I’m afraid we’re going to have to agree to disagree about that one, darlin’,” Lucky teased. “I guess we will.” Now it was Sterling who was feeling like an interloper and he didn’t like it one damn bit. Georgia’s teasing little byplay was reserved for him and him alone. “Now that the two of you have been properly introduced, you can leave.” “No can do, buddy.” “And why not?” Sterling all but growled. “Because I have something for the lovely lady.” “You do?” Georgia peaked around Sterling’s shoulder. “Is it bigger than a breadbox?” “Georgia,” he snapped, at the same time Lucky roared with laughter. Annoyed, Sterling glanced down at the teasing beauty. To his surprise 82

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though, she wasn’t looking at Lucky, she was eyeing him, and her face was filled with humor. The little hellion was trying to rile him and doing a damn good job. “Only if you lay it down flat.” Lucky pulled out a black garment that had been dangling from his back pocket and snapped it out. “Amber sent me back here with this shirt for you, but as far as I’m concerned, what you were wearing earlier is much nicer.” Enough was enough. Sterling stormed across the room and yanked the shirt from Lucky’s hand. “Out.” “Now that’s just not friendly.” Despite his protest, Lucky was grinning. “I wonder why.” “Wonder out there.” Sterling shoved Lucky out the office and slammed the door in the laughing man’s face. “Idiot.” “Are you talking about him or yourself?” Sterling refused to comment. Instead he walked over to the desk and dropped the shirt. “Thanks.” The dry tone to her words sounded anything but thankful. “I’m going to wait for you outside.” The confused and hurt look on her face had Sterling regretting his sharp tone. Without saying another word, he turned and walked from the office. He bypassed Lucky, who was waiting in the hall and headed straight outside for a bit of fresh air. It didn’t help. He could still chew nails. That was his Georgia. How dare another man sniff around her? His feelings were insanely blown out of proportion, but that didn’t make them go away. He had always been overly protective when it came to Amber and Georgia, but what he was feeling right now was ridiculous. He was literally willing to go to blows with a man he considered a friend over a few teasing comments. It was so unlike him it was scary. Sterling had only one of two choices if he wanted to keep his sanity and her friendship. He could either send Georgia back home or he could erect a wall between them and keep her out. The first he could never do, the second he could barely think about doing.

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Chapter Three “I’d sell my soul for a video camera.” For a moment, as Georgia stood inside the open doors, she thought the image before her was a mirage. Sterling, shirtless and pitching hay. She hadn’t seen much of him in the last two weeks, and to run upon him, dressed as he was, was like a dream come true. A very dirty erotic dream come true. “All we need now is some seedy seventies music, something like, bong-chick-bong-bong, and this could be the opening shot of a porn movie.” Sterling grinned as he stuck the pitchfork into the pile of hay next to his feet and rested his hand on the top of the wooden handle. Sweat ran like a river down his taut stomach and soaked the waistband of his Wrangler jeans, darkening the fabric. “And what exactly do you know about porn, Trouble?” “More than I want to admit.” Georgia tried her best not to stare, but he looked like an advertisement for sex. Georgia didn’t have the slightest inkling what Sterling did in his spare time, but she was willing to bet her life he didn’t get a body like his pouring drinks at the Roundup. She had originally come out to the barn to bring him a bottle of water. Now just from looking at him, she was thinking he wasn’t the only one who needed to cool down. “Something tells me this is not a conversation I want to be having with you.” “Probably not,” she admitted. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” “Aren’t you--” Georgia had to clear her throat to get the rest of her sentence out. Her lips felt as parched as they were the day she walked into town. “--itchy from all that hay?” Sterling glanced down at his bare chest then shrugged his shoulders. The movement caused his pecs to rise and fall, which in turn made her heart speed up. “The key is to get as little on you as possible.” “Good key.” Was it this hot outside before she saw him shirtless? Her pulse began to race as it normally did when he was near. It was pathetic the way her body reacted to him. “What are you doing down here?” 84

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“Am I not allowed down here?” He edged his Stetson up and raised a brow at her haughty reply. “You know that’s not what I’m saying, brat.” “Brat, huh. And to think I walked all the way down here to bring you something to drink.” “All the way huh?” Sterling took his hat off and laid it on the haystack. Dark blond locks sprung up and parted like waves as his fingers combed through them. “All fifty feet of it.” “It’s hot as hell here. Every step felt like a mile.” “You’re right about it being hot.” Sterling reached into his back pocket and pulled out a red handkerchief, which he used to wipe his perspiration beaded face. After drying off, he returned the bandana to his pocket and reached for the bottle of water she held out to him. Unfortunately for her raging and unappeased libido, he ran the chilled bottle over his forehead, sighing at the cool contact. He wasn’t the only one sighing though. The halfhearted sound slipped through her parted lips before she could stop it. Sterling was wet, half naked and mere inches away from her. It took everything for Georgia not to offer her body as a human towel for Sterling to dry himself off. “Georgia.” The way he said her name made her wish she was sitting and not standing. Her knees just weren’t made to melt. “You are one in a million. You know just what a man needs.” “Yeah...I thought you might be ...hot.” “I am. You know me so well.” Not as well as she would have liked. As he tipped the bottle back she ran her gaze over his body. His throat, so sexy and long, his chest, massive and muscular. Was there nothing imperfect about him? With a satisfied sigh, he raised the bottle over his head. He poured a good portion of the water over his sweat soaked hair, spilling it down his neck and onto his chest. Good Lord. Her mouth dried up instantly. Unfortunately it was the only part of her body that did. Her panties now felt as damp as his chest. “Georgia?” “Huh?” Georgia tore her gaze away from his body and met Sterling’s own heated stare. 85

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“You’re looking...hot yourself. Do you want some?” Man, did she ever. “Yes.” His thumb brushed across the back of her hand as he handed her the half empty water bottle. His soft touch sent a shower of goose bumps raining down her arm. Georgia brought the bottle up to her mouth and took a deep drink. She needed to quench her thirst and desire. The water could do one and Sterling could do the other. “Thirsty?” “A bit.” She wondered if he had watched her while she was drinking as closely as she’d watched him. The idea of him studying her while she was unaware made her tingle. “Well, save some for the rest of us. Remember, you came down here to bring me the water, not to steal it for yourself.” “Hmph, you shouldn’t have offered if you weren’t willing to share.” Georgia licked the droplet of water on the edge of the bottle. When she looked back up, he was watching her intently. His steady stare made her feel slightly self-conscious. “What?” “Nothing. Nothing at all, Trouble.” Sterling’s chuckle sounded strained. “We haven’t had much time to talk since you’ve been here, with me working and what not.” “Yes, we’ve both been kind of busy.” Busy wasn’t the half of it. Moving out of state wasn’t as easy as she’d thought it would be. Life simply didn’t pick up where she left off. There were changes to account for. One of the more serious was being back in arm’s reach of the man she loved. “I’m just trying to get settled in.” “Still thinking you’re in it for the long haul?” “Yes. So far I like it here.” She wondered if he thought that was a bad thing or a good thing. “Now that’s surprising.” “To you and me both,” she admitted. To be honest, Bellefontaine had grown on her in the last two weeks. Once she became accustomed to the searing heat that was. Georgia could honestly see why Sterling had been so hell-bent on coming back here. Now that her car was fixed, Georgia was able to explore the town more and what she found delighted her. First and foremost, there were black people. In fact, Bellefontaine seemed to be pretty diverse, just the 86

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type of city she wanted to live in. Also, much to her utter surprise, people were actually nice. Sad to say, city living had hardened her a bit. Living in California had made her overly suspicious of everyone and everything, and she had halfheartedly expected this place to be the same. It was good to see she was wrong. The other added bonus of Bellefontaine was the luxury of being in Sterling’s company once more. Not that he’d believe her, if she told him so. “I have to tell you, Trouble, you’re shooting my theories about you to hell and back.” “What do you mean?” “I used to think of you as a princess, but now I’m beginning to wonder if that’s true.” “I’m not a princess.” Princesses were spoiled brats, and Georgia wasn’t spoiled or a brat. She was just well taken care of. What was wrong with that? “Yes, you are.” His eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled at her huffy pout. “But not the pampered spoiled kind. More like the perfectly manicured kind. Still though, you fit in here.” “Were you hoping I wouldn’t?” “Why would I hope you wouldn’t fit in?” Sterling asked, his brows raised in confusion. “I don’t know. I did just kind of wind up here on your doorstep. You never really had a say in it.” “Sure I did.” She noticed he didn’t say he wanted her there though. His lack of an enthusiastic response bothered her. A lot. “I’m just surprised to see you down here. With the, now what did you call them, smelly beasts?” So Rancher Jane she wasn’t. Georgia wasn’t going to lie about it. Horses had their place in the world, and in dog food for that matter, just not necessarily her world. That didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy looking at them...from afar, and as long as Sterling didn’t get any wild ideas about her riding a horse, everything was gravy. “I don’t have to dig ranch life to like life on a ranch.” “I’m not even going to try to understand that.” He shook his head as 87

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if her logic was mind numbing. “Also, this isn’t a ranch. It will be, one day, when I save up enough money to expand and do things right, but right now, it seems insulting to ranches to call this one a ranch.” “I think it’s a great ranch. The best I’ve ever been on.” “Because you’ve been on so many,” he teased. “Besides, when you’re done you’re going to turn this place into the showplace you’ve always dreamed of. I remember you talking about having your own spread when we were growing up. And look at you; you’re bringing your dream to life. That’s something, you know,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “You always were my biggest fan,” he said, touching his finger to the tip of her nose. Georgia grabbed his hand and moved it away from her nose, but kept it in her grasp. This wasn’t a joke to her and she wouldn’t let it be a joke to him either. “I still am.” Although it sounded stupid, Georgia’s words made Sterling feel ten feet high. As did the way she kept watching him. Her gaze had run over his body so many times in so many ways he swore he didn’t think he’d be able to control his reaction much longer. The afternoon in his office kept playing havoc with his mind and with his libido. The last two weeks had felt like a flash back to his youth. Sterling had taken more cold showers than a man should have to, all in an attempt to keep his hard on at bay. Now, in the middle of the afternoon, with no shower in sight, she was holding his hand. The simple gesture not only warmed his heart, it stirred his passions. Something he didn’t want to happen. As unobtrusively as he could, Sterling pulled his hand away, trying his best to ignore the hurt look that appeared in her eyes. “You have a few fans of your own.” “Do I now? Do tell.” Georgia smiled coyly. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat, needing to get back to the manner at hand. “Lucky won’t stop yapping about you.” “Lucky, huh?” The look of interest disappeared from her eyes. “Yes. He’s been down at the bar all week, talking about you non-stop.” Much to Sterling’s irritation. In fact, he had warned his friend that if he uttered Georgia’s name one more time, he was going to mutter it through 88

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a busted lip. Lucky had simply laughed. Bastard. “I think he likes you.” “I’ll consider myself duly warned then.” Well that didn’t tell him jack crap. “Are you interested?” “In what?” In what? What the hell did she think he was talking about? “In Lucky.” “Lucky?” Amusement flickered in her eyes and her lips twitched as if she was fighting back a smile. “Me, interested in a man whose name is an adjective? I think not.” Relief filled Sterling. Now he wasn’t going to have to kill his best friend. “He’s a nice enough guy,” he begrudgingly added, as if an afterthought. “Pleading his case?” “Not at all.” Just the idea of Georgia with Lucky, with any man at all for that matter, made his stomach turn. “Just making conversation.” “Making, as in forcing?” She frowned. Sterling resisted the urge to roll his eyes. At times, Georgia was as stubborn as a mule. “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t say the sky was blue either, but it is.” “Thanks for the update.” He stretched his arms above his head and almost groaned aloud as Georgia looked at his chest once more. The little hellion was going to be the death of him yet. Already, he could feel his shaft hardening. Cursing to himself, he reached for his blue t-shirt he’d tossed over the fence and pulled it on. The last thing he needed was for her to see the evidence of his desire. Georgia being here wasn’t working out as smoothly as he originally thought it would. It wasn’t an accident they hadn’t spent a lot of time together. The more he was around her, the deeper he fell for her, and Sterling just didn’t think Georgia was ready for what he had in mind. She was young, too young to be tied down to a struggling man like himself. Maybe in a year or two, when he had the ranch up and running, Sterling might have something to offer her, but now, all he had was dreams. Georgia was used to better than what he could give her, but he was too selfish to let her go entirely. It was better to have her as a friend than not in his life at all. Even though he wanted much, much more. 89

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“So...” he lamely said. “What are you doing today?” “There you go again, forcing conversation.” Georgia’s easygoing smile slid away and she stood before him uncertainly. “If I’m keeping you I can go.” “You’re not keeping me.” Keeping him from what? Mucking out a stall that didn’t need it. Since she had been staying there, he had found himself with more pent up energy than a racehorse, and no way of releasing it. Not the way he really wanted to anyway. He was keyed up and if he didn’t stay busy, Sterling knew he’d be sniffing at her door like she was in heat. “You’re snappy. I think the heat is getting to you.” “It’s not the heat,” he grumbled, reaching for his hat. “Then what is it?” Georgia waylaid him, yanking his hat from the haystack before he had time to pick it up. She slipped it on her head, as smooth as could be, and then pushed the bridge up in a mocking familiar away. She set the bottle down and tucked her thumbs in the belt loop of her form fitting jeans. “What’s gotten you all a-twitter, partner?” His lip twitched at her twangy accent. It was horrific, but cute. “Gimme back my hat, woman. Don’t you know that’s a hanging offensive around these parts?” “Threatening a black woman with a hanging won’t get you very far, partner.” Sterling reached out and pushed the brim of the hat down until it covered her eyes. “You’re a wordy little thing.” Georgia pushed the hat back up and placed her hands on her hips. “Did you just call me little?” “Yes.” She dropped her hands and grinned, all trace of irritation swept away on a dry breeze. “Thanks.” Sterling mockingly shook his head. “You need a keeper.” “Applying for the job?” She raised a brow and tilted her head a bit to the side as if she was sizing him up. “Would I get it?” he volleyed back. “Would you want it?” “Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.” “Don’t you know, cowboy, you can get anything you want from me.” The double entendre was impossible to ignore, as was the way his cock 90

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was now standing at attention. He had sworn to himself he was going to try to erect a wall to keep her out of his mind and heart, but the only thing erect when she was around was him. “You keep teasing me, Georgia, and one day I might take you up on your challenge.” “What makes you think I’m teasing?” The flirty smile that had graced her lips was completely gone. He spoke without thinking, tired of her little game. “Because that’s what you are, a tease. A hot, sexy, little tease, who, as usual, is heading the right way for a smacked behind.” “A tease, by definition alone, is someone who will arouse hope or desire with no intention of seeing it through.” “And your point is?” “I’m not teasing.” Her soft-spoken words spilled across his skin like a lover’s caress. “You’re bored, aren’t you, Trouble? Looking for a way to pass the time.” “You’re not even close, Cowboy.” Unable to resist her siren call to him any longer, Sterling closed the distance between them, and drew her into his embrace. His hat fell off her head and onto the ground, yet he didn’t release her. He had more important things to think about. If Georgia wanted to push, Sterling would push back. He wasn’t the type of man to be toyed with, and it was better she learned it now, while he still had the strength to let her get away. “Is this close enough, Georgia?” “Sterling...” He was done talking. He surrendered instead, covering her tempting mouth with his own. His tongue swept over hers, plundering her mouth as he familiarized himself with her sweet taste. Sterling moved his hand up and entangled it in her sable hair, angling her face to deepen the kiss. She tasted as good as she looked, but he wanted more than a taste. A simple kiss wasn’t enough to quench his thirst for her. Sterling broke away from her mouth, moving his lips down her jaw to her slender neck. He could feel her pulse pound under his lips. Just as he was more than sure she could feel his arousal hard between them. His hand left her hair, and moved past her shoulder and down her back 91

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until it rested on the gentle curve of her derrière. Clutching her denim-clad rear in his hands, Sterling dragged her covered mound against the jutting evidence of his desire. The sound of her sultry moan echoed in his mind. She wanted this just as much as he did. Her nipples pebbled like stones beneath her lavender spaghetti strap t-shirt, teasing him to take them in his mouth. He wanted to lathe them, almost as much as he wanted to bury his head between her tender thighs. “Mmm...” Her body trembled against his, as she tightened her hand in his hair. Gripping his golden strands, Georgia pulled his head back up, and aligned her mouth with his. It was a move Sterling welcomed. He devoured her mouth while his hand ran over every ounce of flesh he could touch. She was rubbing against him urging him on. The friction they were creating was almost hot enough to set the barn a blaze. Sterling wanted nothing more than to lay Georgia down on the freshly baled hay, and show her the difference between a boy and a man. His body ached for the promise of her sweet body. Just a step or two in the right direction, and he could lay her back and feast on her tempting flesh. The thought appealed to him like none other. To have Georgia, once and for all. To make her his for all eternity. To make love...love? And just as quickly as he kissed her, Sterling pushed her away. His kiss was supposed to teach her a lesson, yet it was he who found himself schooled. Things had gotten out of hand too quickly. This wasn’t supposed to be about love. Just need. Yet he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it would always be love between the two of them. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Lesson over, Trouble.” Her eyes were glazed over with lust, fuelling his passions even higher. “I mean it, Georgia.” “Sterling...” She reached out to him, but it was much more than he could take. If he touched her he would take her, and to hell with the consequences. “Leave.” It damn near strangled him to get the words out. “I want to be alone.” “Alone?” Her breath was labored and her eyes were wild with need. “Are you kidding me?” “No.” Jokes were meant to be funny, not painful like the erection 92

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straining in his pants. “Fine. You want to be alone. I’ll leave you alone.” She pushed past him, madder than he’d ever seen her before. “Who’s the freaking tease now?” she called over her shoulder as she stormed out of the barn. Sterling raised his head to the ceiling and cursed at the top of his lungs. This wasn’t how he wanted things to be. He never meant for things to go so far.

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Chapter Four Sterling was avoiding her. Well as much as a person could avoid someone living in his or her home. He was polite about it, but nevertheless, his behavior was annoying as hell. Perhaps she had misread his signals in the barn. Maybe he was avoiding her because he was shocked by her behavior. Shocked and repulsed. Or maybe he simply regretted her ever moving out here. Georgia poured herself a warm cup of coffee and carried the liquid lifeline with her to the kitchen sliding door. She’d been spending a lot of time lately leaning against the frame and staring into the backyard. It was the majestic scenery that held her rapt attention as much as it was the man leading the horse around the corral, a new fandango word she picked up in the last few weeks at Casa Kane. “So are you going to stare out the window at my brother all day or actually go out there and talk to him?” She glanced over at Amber, who had mysteriously strolled into the room while Georgia had been in mid drool, and grinned. If it was anyone else, she would have tried to bullshit her way out of it, but lying to Amber was akin to wearing low rise shorts. Georgia just couldn’t get away with it. Besides, Amber was the only person in the world who knew her true feelings for Sterling. “We don’t have anything to talk about.” He had made that more than clear with his disappearing every time she entered a room act. “Sure you don’t. That’s why you’ve become a permanent fixture at that door, and he’s been working himself like a dog since you came here.” “You’re imagining things.” When Amber went to say something else, Georgia held her hand up and halted her friend’s words. “And if you’re not, you’ve solidified a decision I’ve been rolling around in my head for the last few days.” “And that would be...” “That I need to hurry up and get my own place.” Georgia took a sip of her coffee to buy herself some time to think. “That’s not what you need to do and you know it. You’re just too chicken to do the right thing.” 94

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“And that would be?” Georgia tossed Amber’s words back at her. “To talk to my stubborn brother.” “Sorry, Spike Lee, but you’re wrong.” Okay, Amber wasn’t wrong, wrong, but she wasn’t exactly right either. Georgia wasn’t afraid to tell Sterling how she felt, she tried and he had thrown her out of his barn. Not exactly the reaction she’d been expecting. “Stop avoiding the situation and just do it. Now. Or else.” “Or else what?” She couldn’t resist goading Amber. It was too easy. “Do you want me to get rough with you?” The petite blonde was trying hard to be menacing but failing miserably. Amber’s heart was in the right place, but she just wasn’t bully material. It might have been easier to be intimidated by her friend if she wasn’t wearing cow print pajamas and bunny slippers. “Yes. Because that’s the way I get down.” “Pervert.” Amber caved and laughed. “And proud of it.” Bully or not, Amber had a point. “But you are right about one thing. I do need to talk to Sterling.” “Really?” Amber took the cup out of Georgia’s hand and took a sip. “Yes.” Just not about what Amber was thinking. Georgia didn’t move hundreds of miles away from home to be a hindrance to anyone. It was time for her to move into her place. Besides, the school year was beginning in a few weeks and she wanted to be able to concentrate on her job, not her personal life. With a heavy sigh, she turned and faced the door. “Wish me luck.” “You don’t need it.” “God, I hope you’re right.” Opening the door, Georgia stepped out into the blazing Arizona sun. The yellow tank top and jean shorts she was wearing were no match against the hot dry heat. It was warm enough to make a girl question her quest. But before she caved, she quickly made her way across the yard, pausing steps shy of the fence. She watched as Sterling led a beautiful Palomino around the corral. His softly spoken urges and quiet prodding drew the attention of the horse in a way no harsh actions or words ever could. Silently, Georgia watched him work and wondered what lay beneath the surface of the quiet man. He would never fit in the old neighborhood now, not that he ever did. To be honest though, the cowboy thing fit him. 95

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Here, he was happy, something she could unequivocally admit he hadn’t been back in California. Her thoughts weren’t purely philosophical though. She also wondered if he looked that good in his jeans, how great would he look out of them. As discreetly as she could, Georgia ran her hungry gaze over his work wear and damn near creamed her pants. From the low riding black dusty hat, to the faded blue jeans and scuffed boots, Sterling was seriously working this cowboy look. As if reading her dirty little thoughts, he led the horse to the fence, securing the line before turning toward her. Sterling righted his hat in a way that was increasingly becoming endearing. Maybe she was going to have to rethink her anti-cowboy stance. “What are you doing up so early, Trouble?” That was the first time he called her by the annoying nickname in days. Georgia didn’t know how much she missed him saying it until he stopped. With a sad smile, she took the last remaining steps that brought her to the fence. It was now or never. “I figured it was the only way I’d get to see you. Short of hanging out at the bar.” “I didn’t know you wanted to see me. What’s up, Trouble? Everything okay?” No, everything wasn’t okay. Starting with the fact he was acting like it was. But he wasn’t the only person who could pretend. “Yes, everything is fine.” Georgia took a deep breath, needing to say what she came to tell him before she changed her mind. “I just wanted to tell you thank you.” “For?” Sterling folded his hands on the top railing and leaned against the fence. He looked kind of cute, like a billboard for the cowboy way of life. “Allowing me to stay here.” “Thanks aren’t necessary. You’re like a sister to me.” His words were like a sword to the heart. It took everything in Georgia to keep a smile on her face. “Nevertheless, the time has come for me to make that move.” “What move?” All traces of good humor fell from his tanned faced as he slid his hands back down to his side. 96

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“I’m going to start looking for a new place today.” Instead of looking relieved like she thought he would, Sterling looked upset. Very upset. “What for?” “Because it’s time,” she answered simply. “Time for what?” Sterling took his hat from his head and slammed it against his upper thigh. Dust flew in every direction as he brought the hat back to his head with a snap of his wrist. “Have you been smoking those funny cigarettes again?” “Yes, I’ve been getting high all week. My new dealer hangs out behind that tumbleweed over yonder,” she said the last word mockingly. Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on Sterling. “What the hell is your problem?” “My problem?” No, he didn’t. “My problem!” “Yes. Your problem.” As if he didn’t know. “It’s you.” “What the hell did I do?” “Like you don’t know.” Georgia was done with pretending. For a brief second, he looked abashed, then his expression closed down, until he was once again the hardened cowboy. “Look, if it’s about that day in the barn, I’ll apologize. I...things got out of hand.” “Out of hand.” Her voice rose in outrage. “Take your apology and shove it up your rawhide, Cowboy.” “I’m just trying to be nice, damn it.” “That’s one of the problems, Sterling. Nice is something grandmothers do. You’ve been the perfect Martha Stewart clone since that day. Polite, welcoming, and distant. The ideal host. But you don’t have to pretend any longer with me, Sterling. I know when I’m not wanted.” “You don’t know jack shit.” The angry words spewed forth violently. Sterling wasn’t happy. Good. That made two of them. “What I do know is that I’m not going to bother you with my presence any longer. Your lack of time and warmth have been duly noted. Whether I find a place to live this week or not, I’ll be out of your hair.” “Georgia.” Sterling took a menacing step forward, as Georgia took a protective one back. She had never seen him this angry before, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. If it weren’t for the fence between them, 97

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she would have booked. “If you take one step off this property, you won’t sit down for a week.” Why didn’t he just double dog dare her? It would have been easier to disregard than this blatant challenge of wills. Georgia might have been in love with Sterling, but she was no one’s doormat. “Is that right?” “Try me.” With nerves as steady as steel she turned on her heels and slowly but purposefully made her way to the road that marked the property line. She didn’t dare turn around to see if he was watching, not because she was afraid of what he might do to her, but because she was afraid of what she might do to him. Who the hell did he think he was talking to? Her name was Georgia LaShawn Rothe, not Georgia LaShawn Kane. Despite how brotherly he felt about her, Sterling was in no way, shape or form related to her, and if she had to stomp all the way to town to prove it, Georgia would show him she didn’t enlist his service. He couldn’t order her about. The second she reached the edge of the front yard, Georgia turned around. She knew from where the corral was Sterling would faintly be able to see her. But she didn’t need him to be front and center to get her point across. To her immense surprise though, he hadn’t stayed idly by and watched her march. The angry man had followed her all the way, and when she spun around, she almost ran smack into him. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as he pushed his Stetson up and off his lean face. The silent jaunt behind her apparently hadn’t cooled down his ire either. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Never before had she seen such an intense glint in his eyes, but she’d come too far to back down now. “Good thing you aren’t me.” “Go ahead, Trouble, if you feel froggish, jump.” There was no way in hell she was going to let his dare go unanswered. Georgia slowly smiled, then took a big step back, off the property and onto the road. “Ribbit, ribbit baby.”

w It took everything in Sterling not to yank Georgia’s shorts down in the middle of the yard and spank her brown ass right then and there. Without uttering a single word, he closed the distance between them with two short steps. His gazed locked onto hers and he watched with 98

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growing ire as she raised a brow and smirked. That little brat! Somewhere along the line, Georgia forgot who the hell she was dealing with. She didn’t think he was going to do jack about her blatant disregard of his orders. It was a mistake she would never make again. Sterling moved quickly, so Georgia wouldn’t see it coming. He bent over, cupped his hands behind her thighs, and flipped her over his shoulders. Her shapely ass was in the air and in direct reach of his hand. Just the way he wanted it. Say something smart now! “Sterling!” Her screech of outrage sent birds flying from the tree. She wiggled, kicked and pummeled his back with her fists, all in useless attempts to gain freedom. Sterling was willing to bet that if Georgia was standing instead of flung over his shoulders, her hand would be on her hip and her neck would be rolling. “I’m going to kill you,” she wailed, as she pounded on his lower back with her puny fist. “Put me down this instant.” When he failed to comply, Georgia tried a new tactic. She bit him. The sharp feel of her teeth sinking into his flesh caused Sterling to cry out in surprise. It also caused him to deliver swift but just punishment. Smack! Smack! His hands landed with a resounding thump on the upturned backside. “No. You. Didn’t.” Each word was like a sentence of its own. “The hell I didn’t,” he thundered back. “And I’ll do it again if you don’t pipe down.” His hands itched to follow through with his threat. Fortunately for him, Georgia wasn’t a fast learner. “The hell you will.” Smack! Smack! This time it was his penis that joined the thrilled bandwagon. Hard and mad as hell, he stomped up onto the porch and yanked the front door open. Georgia’s shrills of disgust echoed inside the closed quarters and brought Amber running down the stairs. When she spotted them, she practically did a double take. Frozen, she gripped the banister and stared wide-eyed at them, as Sterling made his 99

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way up the first few stairs. “What’s going on?” He didn’t have time for this. “None of your business. Now move.” “Don’t move. Help me,” Georgia ordered. “Move. Now.” Sterling wouldn’t ask again. He was dealing with one hardheaded woman. He wasn’t in the mood for another. Amber was quick to obey. Her surprised expression quickly morphed into one of amusement as she saluted her brother and scurried down the stairs. “Amber! Come back here.” “I’m going to go for a drive. A long one.” “Traitor!” “I said, be quiet.” He punctuated his words with another smack. Georgia’s only reply was a guttural growl. Yet she didn’t mutter a word. It was a start. Once Sterling made it to the top of the stairs, he headed straight to his bedroom and he didn’t stop until they were inside. Driven by lust alone, he marched to his king size dark oak bed and flipped her off his shoulder and bottom down onto the ebony quilt. Before she could move an inch, he walked back to the door and locked it. The sound of the catch clicking was the only noise in the otherwise silent room. Fueled by his anger, Sterling spun around and faced the equally furious woman, who was now up on her knees with her hands planted firmly on her hips. “Can I speak now, oh lord and masta?” “Only to answer one question. What the hell do you mean that I don’t want you around?” “You know very well what I mean.” God in heaven. Why did all women have to be so damn obtuse? “If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked.” “You don’t want me here.” “The hell I don’t.” He was getting pretty tired of Georgia telling him what wanted. Sterling had never wanted anyone as much as he did Georgia. His feelings for her had snuck up on him when he hadn’t been expecting it, and man, did it throw him for a loop. 100

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Georgia had metaphorically been boxed, categorized and filed away in his brain. From the moment they met, until the day he and Amber had moved away, he had always thought of her as Amber’s friend. A surrogate sister, which unequivocally placed her in the hands off box. The day in his office, and all the days following since, had been a real eye opener for him and it also taught Sterling that paper went in categories. Not people. “It doesn’t matter, I’m out of here.” Georgia moved down and off the bed, her intention to leave the room as evident as the anger on her face. But there was no way in hell Sterling was about to let that happen. He stormed across the room and picked her up and placed her back on the bed, kicking and screaming. If she was going to behave like a child, he was going to treat her like one. “Not going to happen.” “You can’t keep me here.” Her dark brown skin was flushed and her fists were clenched at her side. From the looks of things, she was primed and ready for a fight. “Wanna make a bet, darlin’?” He moved forward until the bed brushed his shins. With Georgia kneeling on the mattress, they were of similar heights. They faced off like two boxers in a ring. Neither one willing to back down. Both ready to see if might made right. “You’ve been gone from my sight way too long, Trouble, if you think you can take me. Now stop your silliness and tell me what’s really going on, or I swear, you’ll be sitting on pillows for a week.” Her big brown eyes widened in shock. “Don’t threaten me, Cowboy. I’m not one of your horses you can lead around the corral. I’m my own woman. I’ll come or go when I damn well—“ Sterling had had enough. There was no talking sense into her. The stubborn woman only saw things one way, hers. Since he couldn’t get her to be quiet and listen with words, he’d use the only other means of persuasion he knew. Reaching out blindly, Sterling wound his hand in the back of her hair and brought her forcefully into him. Her cry of surprise was buried under his mouth, as he took her lips in a savage and deep kiss. Georgia tensed up, her body as still as a statue, but her inactivity didn’t last long. With a deep moan, she surrendered to the kiss, opening her lips, meeting his desire. 101

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The fierceness of the kiss didn’t surprise him as much as the sweetness that accompanied it. He wasn’t a gentle lover, he gave as well as he took, and never held back, and his kiss was a teasing testament of what was to come. It was a warning Georgia didn’t heed. She took his challenge and gave back as well, winding her hand in his hair and flattening her body against his. She was just as aggressive as he was, and twice as determined. The ardent kiss lacked poise and grace. Deep and urgent, it crowned no one the victor of this equally matched battle for control. With all manner of reason and sanity gone, he acted on impulse and gave in to his baser needs. The concept of right and wrong no longer registered. He was ruled by lust and led by passion. When the touch of their lips was no longer enough to fill the fiery tempest burning within him, Sterling pulled away from her mouth. He freed himself from her grip and took a small step back. “No,” Georgia moaned, as she reached for him once more. “I’m not going anywhere.” He couldn’t even if he tried. The only reason he had taken a step back was to give himself the much needed space to undress Georgia. There was no way on earth she was walking out of that room without him tasting her. He grabbed the edge of her shirt and pulled it up. “Raise your arms.” Georgia was only more than happy to comply. The yellow tank top catered to her curvaceous bust and gave her smooth brown skin a golden hue. As nice as the shirt looked on her, it looked even better on his wood floor. Georgia’s breasts were once again cupped in a sexy lace confection that had his mouth watering for a sweet taste. This time the garment was the color of soft butter and sheer. Sterling lowered his head to the crown of her exposed globes and lightly ran his lips over the full beauties as he worked his hands quickly to release her breasts to his waiting mouth. The bra came undone quickly under his nimble fingers and it too hit the floor. He cupped her full breasts in his hands, and uttered the only word that came to mind. “Damn.” “That better be a good thing.” “Trust me.” Her dark nipples hardened under his touch. He could 102

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hardly avert his eyes from their brown perfection. “It is.” “It’s your turn for show and tell.” Georgia reached between them and cupped his denim-covered erection. She tightened her grip upon him, testing his girth and length in her hand. He tried not to moan as she stroked him through his pants. “Not to be unoriginal, but damn.” “Enough talking.” Sterling pushed her hands away and made quick work of unzipping and unbuckling his pants. “I can’t wait one more minute to taste you.”

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Chapter Five There was only one way for a woman to respond to a comment like his, which was with complete and utter compliance. Sterling wasted no time making his words a reality. He helped her stand, then slowly unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts, before sliding them along with her yellow thong, down her legs. Raising one foot then the other, Georgia stepped out of the puddle of clothing at her feet, until she was standing before him wearing nothing but her shoes. Treating her as if she were fragile as glass, he lifted her feet one at a time and took her sandals off. His face was a mask of intense lust as he slowly ran his heated gaze down her nude frame. Georgia proudly stood in front of him, unashamed of her body or her desire for him. She had wanted him for far too long to be shy now. “I...” Sterling moved his hands over her, slowly caressing her heated flesh as he familiarized himself with every inch of her body. His eyes were overrun with desire for her as he tenderly touched her. “I have no words. You. Are. Lovely.” Georgia closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She trembled from want, from need, from sheer yearning alone. Georgia had waited a lifetime for this moment, to be consumed by his passion. She didn’t want to wait a second longer. “Please...” “Please what, baby?” “Make love to me.” “I couldn’t stop now if I tried.” He pulled her close to him and brushed his lips against her taut stomach. Georgia whimpered at the all too brief contact. She wanted to feel him kiss her everywhere. Stepping back, he quickly undressed. His feverish need to join with her was evident in the way he tossed his clothes to the floor as carelessly as he’d tossed hers. As he undressed, Georgia sat back on the bed to watch. It was an unveiling she didn’t want to miss. Sterling had always been handsome to her, but during the years they’d spent apart he had really filled out his lengthy frame. Dressed, he was attractive; undressed, he was a work of 104

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art. As cliché as it sounded, Georgia was glad she had the foresight to sit now, because her legs felt like putty. Never before had she ever been this overwhelmed by lust before. She not only wanted to make love to him, she wanted to devour him. To take him into her heated flesh over and over until they merged into one. When he was completely nude, Sterling climbed on the bed in front of her. The strong evidence of his desire jutted out long and hard before him. She tried not to stare, but her gaze would not waver. He was huge, and all hers. “If you keep looking at me like this, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.” She licked her lips hungrily before replying, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” A devilish chuckle was his only response. Sterling reached down and pulled Georgia to her knees. He tugged her against him, trapping his member between them. The fullness of him, thick and long pressed firmly against her stomach and made Georgia ache to have him fill her even more. Sterling cupped his hands beneath her thighs, and pulled her up, until her legs were wrapped around his waist. Slowly, he lowered her to the bed until he was leaning over her and she was lying beneath him. Then he brought his mouth to her ear and lightly ran his tongue around the shell inside before speaking. “You know what I noticed about you, Trouble. You always have to have the last word.” “Yes...” “So I think I’ll just have to work harder to leave you speechless.” He brushed his lips against her ear then trailed them down her neck slowly. “If you think you’re up to the challenge.” Her words might have been a bit more firm if she hadn’t quivered as she spoke. Sterling left her dare uncontested; instead he took his time making his way down her trembling body with his mouth. There wasn’t an inch, from her neck to the apex of her thighs, left untouched by his lips and hands. He took his time learning what made her moan, visiting some places twice, just because she moved a certain way, or made a different noise when he touched her there. 105

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Her breasts were swollen and tender and bore a faint imprint of his teeth around her nipples. From the way he had played with them, she was willing to bet her cowboy was a breast man. The way he’d feasted on her breasts though, was nothing compared to the way he delighted in her sex. He teased and lapped at her, bringing her closer and closer to the precipice with every swipe of his tongue. “Hmm...yes...” He was going to kill her and she was going to die a very happy woman. Moaning, she wrapped her hand around the silky strands of his blond hair as she held him tightly to her hot sex. His talented tongue stole her breath away. To be so close to paradise, yet not completely there was an erotic fusion of pleasure and pain. “Sterling...” His name was like a pleading prayer on her lips, a prayer answered by the onslaught of pleasure that pulsed through her body as she came. Her orgasm took almost everything out of her, leaving Georgia flushed and craving more. With a whimper, she pressed herself flat against the bed. Her body was weak and depleted. Georgia felt as if she’d died and gone to orgasm heaven and they hadn’t even made love yet. Sterling rose from between her legs and yanked opened the door to his nightstand. He cursed as he fumbled around in the drawer. While he was busy Georgia decided to put her hands to good use, familiarizing herself with his shaft. There wasn’t much room for maneuvering between their sweat-slicked bodies, but Georgia made good use of what little room she had. She stroked his heated flesh, pumping him with long firm caresses, trying to drive him as wild as he had her. From the guttural moans above her, it was a job well done. “Damn...stop...baby...” he groaned. “You’re such a big bad man.” She tightened her grip on him. “Make me.” “Georgia...” Sterling muttered as he held himself still, allowing her to torture him with her deft strokes. He pumped his shaft into her hands for a few sharp strokes before pushing himself up and away from her. Sterling grabbed her hand and moved it away from his member. “Spoilsport.” 106

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“Keep toying with me, Trouble.” Sterling ripped through the wrapper of the condom pulling the rubber out victoriously. Georgia was glad he still had his head about him. Birth control had been the last thing on her mind. Sterling sheathed himself, then bracing himself above her, he centered the crown of his shaft against her damp opening and powered forward. “Jeezee....” His entry was hard and swift, and if she hadn’t been primed for him, it might have hurt. But Georgia had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity, and she was more than ready for his entry. “God, you feel so good.” He tightened his hand in her hair and pulled her head back, looking deep into her eyes. “So unbelievably good.” His actions were so primal, so demanding it sent shivers down her spine. A soft answering moan escaped her as she gripped his side. “Am I hurting you?” he questioned as he thrust forward. The very last thing she felt was pain. “No.” “Do you want me to?” God, he was going to get her off with his words alone. “Only if you want to.” “I’ll.” He thrust again. “Have to think.” And again. “On that.” And again. Then again. Over and over, he sunk into her body until it became a kinetic movement of pleasure. Every plunge seemed deeper and stronger than the one before. Each one left Georgia hungry for more. “Please, please…” Georgia begged. Her thighs gripped his hips as she dug her nails into his back, urging him on the only way she could. She wanted to come; she wanted to come so badly, she could taste it. “Please what, baby?” Without pausing, Sterling drove back inside her tight sheath, harder and faster than before. Blinded by the pleasure, Georgia could do nothing but moan. She cried, she chanted, she begged for the release that was just out of hands reach. So intense was her longing, Georgia could hardly recognize herself. She was a wanton woman, and only Sterling had the power to satisfy her. “Please make love to me.” “Are you going leave here? Leave me?” he questioned amidst his 107

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thrusts. “What?” Georgia couldn’t think right now. Only feel. “Are. You. Leaving?” Was he mad? This was so not the time. “Sterling...” “Answer me.” He never wavered from his strokes. His hand slid between their bodies, stroking her externally even as he pressed ever deeper inside. “Now.” “No,” she growled, meeting him trust for thrust. “God no.” “Mine.” It was a statement. A fact. One not to be trifled with or ignored. “Yours,” she conceded. His answering thrust was the catalyst of her undoing. Georgia closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensations robbing her blind. She came and she came a lot, flooding his member and the bed with her release. Low animalistic growls filled the room as her heart pounded wildly within her chest. The noises surprised Georgia. Even more surprising was the fact they were coming from her lips. Torn from her soul as only true pleasure could be. Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, damn near drowning her in sea of bliss. There was no time to relish in the sweet afterglow of her release. He apparently didn’t work that way. The determined man never stopped his steady and powerful strokes within her. He thrust into her, over and over, pounding into her body as Georgia undulated beneath him. There was nothing sweet or romantic about their loving. They were too far gone for anything like that. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” The words tumbled from her lips like a tribal chant. Her body was a taut string of desire and just when Georgia thought she was incapable of taking a second more of his torturous loving Sterling sunk his teeth into her nape, tearing one more orgasm from her hoarse throat. She wasn’t alone in her release. Sterling growled low and deep, pumping faster and faster inside her until he too came, groaning her name. Limp and sedated, she dropped her legs to the bed. Her arms fell away from his sweaty body of their own accord. When Sterling found the strength to pull from her tender body, he dropped down on the bed next to her. Breathing heavily, he turned and 108

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studied her with curious eyes. After a moment of silence he finally spoke. “Are you okay?” All she could do was nod. He had lived up to his promise. Sterling had left her speechless.

w Georgia’s silence was a bit unnerving. There wasn’t a doubt in Sterling’s mind she had enjoyed herself. He had the scratch marks on his back to prove it. Yet his normally chatty girl was deathly silent. It didn’t bode well for things to come. Sterling sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He glanced over his shoulder at her and couldn’t help but smile. She looked like a well-satisfied woman. Her sable hair, which she normally wore loosely tucked behind her ears, was wildly tousled about. Her dark chocolate skin was flushed, and shimmering perspiration drying on her skin made her glimmer in the sunlight streaming in from the window. The fact they were of different ethic backgrounds had never mattered to him; that was, until he was buried deep inside her. The exotic contrast of their merging colors, of his pale flesh sinking into her darker one had left him breathless. Just watching her now, so dark and beautiful, had his penis stirring again. Yet, before he could partake of her charms once more, they needed to talk. “I love you.” Sterling tested the words out loud, wondering if they sounded as oddly as they did when he practiced saying it to her in his head all week. Georgia’s eyes widened with shock and she slowly sat up. “What did you say?” If he said it once, he could say it again. Maybe this time he wouldn’t sound like such an idiot. “I love you.” When she didn’t reply, Sterling thought, fuck it. If he was going to make an ass out of himself, he might as well go all out. “I love you and I don’t want you to leave.” Instead of responding right away, Georgia rose from the bed and crossed the room. She stood silently in front of the window for a moment before turning back to him. Her face was a mask of confusion and she stood with her arms wrapped around herself as if she needed the support, 109

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and the protection. “Are you just saying that because you don’t want me to leave?” “No, I carried you into the house over my shoulder, because I don’t want you to leave.” He grinned at the memory. “I’m telling you because I do. I love you, and I think I always have.” “You think?” “Yes. No. Hell, I don’t know.” Sterling ran his hand though his hair in frustration. This wasn’t going exactly as he imagined it all week. Georgia didn’t look impressed by his declaration, nor did she say the words back. Still, Sterling knew he had to tell her how he felt, even if there was a chance she didn’t feel the same way he did. The hardest part though was trying to explain something he didn’t know how to put into words. He was a guy. They didn’t have feelings other than hungry, horny, and angry and even then, they didn’t talk about them unless they were trying to eat, screw or fight. And right now, he wasn’t hungry, they’d already made love, and he just wasn’t in the mood to fight. He wanted peace, between his woman and himself, and he wanted to hear her say the words back. “Then what do you know?” she asked softly. Now that part was easy. “I know you’re a part of me. I know when Amber and I moved here things weren’t perfect. I was content, but I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t whole. Not until you came.” “Then why...” She glanced away from him. “Why have you been acting like a jerk all week?” “Have I really been that bad?” Georgia turned her head toward him and looked at him as if he were stupid. “You’re damn skippy you have.” Sterling knew this was his make or break moment. He needed to be able to explain to her why he’d been such an ass all week without looking stupid and still gaining her sympathy. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m going to try to explain, but I’m a man, so I might mess it up somewhat.” “Oh, this ought to be good.” Georgia leaned back against the wooden headboard and relaxed her stance. She hadn’t admitted her feelings, nor had she moved to embrace him. So apparently all wasn’t forgiven, but she didn’t throw anything at him either. It was a start. 110

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“You threw me for a loop, Trouble,” he admitted. “What does that mean?” “I was expecting the cute little pesky friend of Amber’s to come stay awhile, not the woman you’ve grown into.” “So you really weren’t okay with me coming out?” “Are you kidding? I was over the moon. I mean, really, I couldn’t wait to see you, and yet at the same time I couldn’t figure out why. On the one hand I was thinking you were going to be trouble. I’d have to look out for you, and at the same time, I couldn’t wait to have you in my life again. I missed you. I literally missed having you around. That’s not how a person feels for someone they think of as their sister’s friend.” “That still doesn’t explain why you avoided me.” “It does if you’re a guy.” “Good thing for you I’m not then.” She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Or the last half hour might have ended a bit differently.” “To the say the least.” He grinned. “Since we both agree I’m anatomically challenged in the male department, how about you try to explain to me, using small words so my little girl brain can understand why you were acting like an idiot?” “Because...” He paused to think of the easy way to explain his actions then decided to go with the simple truth. “I’m an idiot and I got scared. Plain and simple.” “Well okay.” “It didn’t hit me, until we were kissing in the barn, what I felt for you wasn’t just lust. It was more, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that realization. You were Trouble. The kid next door. Then all of a sudden you weren’t that to me anymore. You were more.” “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.” Sterling had to laugh. When she was right, she was right. “I never claimed to make sense.” “Good thing,” she grumbled. “I do claim to love you. And to try my damnedest to aspire to be the man you deserve.” “You’re already that, Sterling.” “I’m just a simple cowboy, Georgia. A horse wrangler.” “And there’s nothing wrong that.” 111

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“Sure there is.” He wanted her to know exactly what she was getting into with him, because there would be no going back ever again, for either of them. “I want to be able to give you everything, and I can’t do that yet. The bar is barely breaking even and the ranch ... I get to it in my spare time. It’s not exactly an empire I have to offer you.” “You’re offering me your heart, right?” “No, Trouble, that’s already yours. But--” She walked over to him and placed her finger over his lips, silencing him. “Then what more could I ever want?” He wasn’t done just yet. Taking her hand into his, he moved it away from his mouth. “Now don’t you have something to tell me?” “No.” Her lips quivered as if she was fighting back a smile. “Nothing comes to mind.” “Don’t toy with me, Trouble. I have rope and a very active imagination, and I’m not afraid to use them.” “That doesn’t sound like a threat to me, Cowboy.” “It isn’t.” He wiggled his brows. “Just a heads up on what we’ll be doing tonight.” “Now that’s my idea of a rodeo. You, me and a big, big bed.” “Come on, Trouble, you can’t leave me hanging here.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to within an inch of her own. “Poor lonely cowboy, what is it you need?” “You know what I need.” He gripped her hips, pulling her tight to him. “I love you, you impossible man. I always have and unlike you, I’ve known it since I arrived. I came here because of you and I’m not leaving, not the town or this house or your bed. So you’re stuck with me.” He released his pent up breath, sighing heavily as the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders. “That’s the kind of trouble I’m happy to have, for the rest of my life.”

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Seressia Glass

Chapter One It was the damn pubic hair that did it. Not all of them. Just that one. The gray one. Kat hadn’t believed it at first. But the parting shot of her break up with Max had been that little volley. She’d thought it was sour grapes until she’d completed an inspection. Oh, hell no. Obviously coming face-to-face with proof that she was no longer twenty-nine had sent her off the deep end. That was the only explanation for how she’d let her best friend Gina talk her into getting a Brazilian bikini wax. “Regina Maria Lourdes Lieberman, you know I’m going to kill you when I get out of here, right?” she asked her friend pleasantly as Nurse Ratchet spread a glob of warm wax on her inner left thigh. “Honey, you’ll have to catch me first,” Gina said from her table, then had the nerve to laugh on top of it. “And I don’t think you’ll be able to walk for a while.” Kat screeched as the tiny woman in the turquoise jumper snatched the strip of cloth from her skin. Another rip and a grunt told her that Gina had gotten something ripped as well. “Damn you, you could at least pretend that this is hurting you as much as it’s hurting me!” “Didn’t I tell you to pop a couple of Vicodin with a martini chaser before coming?” Gina asked, her voice muffled. “I thought you were—ouch!—joking,” Kat said. “Besides, I don’t keep anything stronger than regular Tylenol in my medicine cabinet.” “Better living through chemistry, I always say,” Gina intoned. “How else do you think I managed childbirth?” “I think I can handle childbirth if I can handle this.” Nurse Ratchet laughed. “No, childbirth’s worse.” “She’s right,” Gina said. “This is over pretty quickly. Childbirth lasts for hours. And then you have the day after, and the next eighteen years.” Kat looked between her thighs at the motherly little lady applying wax way too close to her glory. “You know, you’re closer than my gynecologist 115

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has been. Heck, you’re closer than my ex-boyfriend has been.” The lady patted Kat’s thigh before pressing a strip of cloth against the wax. “You get new boyfriend now.” “That’s the idea!” Gina crowed. “I’m taking Ms. Kat here to South Beach! Ain’t nothing like a little Mayhem in Miami to make you forget Mr. Limp Dick!” “Gina!” Kat was so shocked by Gina’s statement she didn’t even protest when the aesthetician pulled her labia tight. “He wasn’t that bad. Jesus and Mary Chain!” “Hey, don’t be taking half my people’s Lord’s name in vain like that,” Gina admonished. “And I seem to recall that you were the one who said you got more satisfaction from a Sharpie.” “Well, I was mad at the time.” Kat arched off the table as the nice lady effectively killed her clitoris. “My God, did you rip out my ovaries too?” The lady just patted her thigh and smiled. “Your friend is very dramatic, no?” she remarked to Gina in Spanish. Gina smiled back. “My friend is also fluent in five languages.” “Are you almost done?” Kat asked in Spanish. The attendant smiled sheepishly. “Almost. Please roll over.” Kat thought the back couldn’t possibly be any worse than ripping out the front yard. She quickly discovered how wrong she was when the dominatrix-in-training ripped her a new one. “You are so buying me liquor when this is over,” she later growled to Gina as the aesthetician added insult to injury by liberally tweezing her stinging hoo-hah. “I can’t get this hour back.” “You’ve only been at it for thirty minutes,” Gina said with a hiss as her attendant smoothed lotion into her skin. “Besides you were the one who wanted to do something drastic about the gray hair.” “I think this experience has actually added to my gray hair count,” Kat grunted. “And do not remind me that this was my idea! Being a martyr is the only enjoyment I’m getting right now.” “Honey, I’m Jewish and Catholic. I think I’ve got the whole martyr thing on lockdown.” Gina waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Besides, a full hedge is so not Miami Beach.” “All done,” the aesthetician announced, handing Kat a mirror. “Wow.” Kat took a moment to admire the work. Not a hair, gray or 116

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otherwise, could be seen. “I haven’t been this bare since birth. Thanks.” “See?” Gina beamed. “I told you Bonita would strip you bare and make you say thank you.” Kat glared at her friend. “Next time you have a beauty inspiration, you can keep it to yourself. By the way, how did you manage this trip to South Beach without Barry?” “By selling my soul to the devil, also known as Paul’s new wife,” Gina said. “I told them we were going to a conference, and it’s his visitation weekend with David anyway. Janice is thrilled to have him.” “I’m trying to decide if you’re being sarcastic or not,” Kat said as the attendant patted powder on her parts. “But it amazes me that you get along better with David now than you did when you were married.” “That’s all Janice’s doing,” her friend replied, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the table. “She’s a WASP, you know. They know what from civility.” “Speaking of being civil, if you don’t want me to wring your pretty little Black Cubana Jewish neck, you’d better find me a drink and fast.”

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Chapter Two It was a pretty place, a plastic place, a place where people went to be seen and frequently forgot to see. Kat strolled down Lincoln Road with Gina, conscious of the fact that she wasn’t blonde enough or concave enough to be part of the “it” crowd, and she really didn’t give a damn. The pedestrian mall stretched seven blocks from Biscayne Bay to the Atlantic Ocean, stuffed with a plethora of shops, galleries, and eateries. The Art Deco facades paired perfectly with the beautiful evening. The sky above them was the color of Caribbean blue topaz, streaked with thin white clouds. The heat had eased, carried away by the breeze coming in off the ocean. Kat stopped petting the malachite necklace she’d bought after a fun time haggling with a street vendor. “What do you want to eat?” “Besides that fine-looking piece of manflesh over there?” Gina pulled down her sunglasses to smile at a man walking a pit bull and something that resembled a hairy Chihuahua. “You may want to eat him, but I don’t think you’re on his menu,” Kat remarked. She stepped up to the large directory of Lincoln Road shops, restaurants, and attractions. “It looks like our choices are Italian, McDonald’s, Italian, Starbucks, or Italian.” Gina raised an eyebrow. “So how do you feel about Italian?” “As long as they have mojitos, I’m there,” Kat answered. “And I promise not to compare tonight’s meal to what we had last night.” “You said you weren’t going to bring it up anymore,” Gina reminded her. “I didn’t bring it up, my stomach did. Twice.” Kat shuddered. “Trust me, I don’t want to remember it any more than you do.” They strolled down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace. Almost all of the restaurants had open-air seating with colored canopies announcing the transition from one eatery to another. It also seemed to be a requirement to have little tables displaying plastic-wrapped sample dishes next to menu stands. Nothing jumped out to Kat, so she let Gina take the lead, knowing her friend’s diet-of-the-moment would be the deciding factor in where they’d stop. 118

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Gina froze. “Oh my God!” “What?” Kat swiveled her head, trying to figure out what had made Gina stop dead in her tracks. Gina raised her left hand, pointing. “Look at that bread!” Kat finally noticed a round loaf of bread, about the size of a dinner plate, dusted with parmesan cheese. “Looks good.” “Looks good? That looks freakin’ awesome!” Gina exclaimed. “I haven’t had bread in three years!” “That’s our artisan bread.” A deep accented voice had Kat instinctively squeezing her thighs together. She turned to see a man dressed in a pale silver dress shirt with the sleeves rolled back to the elbows, dark gray trousers, and dark dress shoes approach them. “We make the dough ourselves, made fresh daily,” he said, draping his arm around Kat’s shoulder. “It’s a perfect way to start a meal.” “That may be the only thing I have for my meal,” Gina breathed reverently. “I’m Pietro Filipini,” the man said then, giving Kat’s shoulder a squeeze. Kat thought briefly about being bothered by his touchiness, but she was too busy going ga-ga over his accent, soul-dark eyes, and the slight bit of distinguished silver that highlighted the darkness of his thick, wavy hair at the temples. “I would be honored to have you at my restaurant tonight.” Gina looked from the restaurateur to Kat and back again. “I just bet you would.” “Thank you, Mr. Filipini,” Kat said hurriedly, “but really, you don’t have to flirt with us to convince us to eat here. I think the bread’s working it for you.” “I flirt with you because you’re beautiful,” Pietro said, taking Kat’s right hand in his. “We Sicilian men love Black women.” That explained the forwardness, but what the hell was she supposed to say? No one had ever come on to her like that before. She wasn’t even sure he was trying to come on to her. “Kat…” Gina gave her a look that clearly said, “Girl, don’t mess this up.” “All right, Mr. Filipini, looks like we’re having dinner here.” “Excellente! Welcome to Bella Luna. And please, call me Pietro.” He 119

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led them over to a table just beneath a burgundy canopy that gave them a prime people-watching view. “And whom do I have the honor of serving this evening?” Gina grinned. “I’m Regina Maria Lourdes Lieberman—most people called me Gina—and this is my best friend, Katherine Adamson.” “Bella Katerina.” Kat watched as he planted a kiss on the back of her hand, trying not to squeak like a schoolgirl. Luckily he pulled out her chair, then helped her into it before her knees gave way. He gestured, and a waitress came over with menus and a pitcher of water. “The artisan bread,” he ordered, taking the water pitcher from her to fill the red goblets on the table. “Have you been away from Sicily long?” Kat asked, trying to make conversation. “I noticed you speaking standard Italian instead of Sicilian.” He sharp eyes studied her. “Do you speak Sicilian?” She shook her head. “Only a word here or there. Languages are kinda a hobby of mine. I listen to language tapes when I commute during work, and I learned conversational Italian years ago during college.” God, she was rambling but she couldn’t seem to stop. He was so damn gorgeous he made her nervous. “I had to learn the standard to leave Sicily,” Pietro explained. “And it’s what Americans expect when they come to an Italian restaurant. I’m sure if I feel passionately enough about something, I’ll slip into my native tongue.” “I believe it.” The way he said it had shivers running down her spine. Kat reached for her water glass, trying not to think about where else his tongue could slip. “May I offer you ladies a bottle of our house wine?” Pietro asked. “We have a red that I think you would enjoy.” “The red would be wonderful,” Kat said, after seeing Gina’s nod. “Bene. The red it is.” Gina waited until Pietro left before leaning forward. “So, are you gonna do it?” “Do what?” Kat asked, taking another sip of water. She had a burning need to cool off, and in a hurry. “Slip him the spare room key and ask him to deliver dessert.” 120

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Kat spluttered. “Are you out of your mind? Besides, he just wanted us to eat here. That’s all the flirting was.” “Right.” Gina just looked at her. “I’m sure he spends ten minutes conversing in Italian with all the tourists.” Kat felt her cheeks heat. “He was just being polite.” “Of course he was. That’s why he keeps looking over here.” Darting a glance around her menu, Kat noticed that Pietro was indeed looking in their direction. “I have no idea why he’s looking.” “I’ll give you two hints,” Gina said, “and they’re both below your chin.” Kat looked down at “the twins.” The apple green halter dress complimented her cinnamon-brown skin and showed her assets to advantage, making it well worth the price tag. Between the dress and Gina’s spa treatments, she was looking and feeling good. The flirting didn’t hurt either. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything by it,” Kat finally said. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy it though.” “He didn’t look at me like that, and he didn’t mention having a thing for Jewish-Hispanic women either. But then you’ve got tits for days, while I have a couple of peaches in my bra.” “Gina! God, the stuff that comes out of your mouth—and you haven’t had any alcohol yet!” Kat fanned herself with the menu. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with having boobs the size of peaches.” “Not unless I’m standing next to your chest o’ plenty.” Gina sat back in her chair, glass balanced in her fingers. “So?” “So what?” Gina could change a conversation faster than bets changed hands in Vegas. “What if he does mean something by all the flirting? Would you go for it?” Kat flattened the menu to the table, remembering how she’d reacted to Pietro’s voice. His hand sliding along her back as he’d guided them to the table had been shiver-inducing in the Miami Beach heat. The way he’d kissed her hand after being introduced almost had her fanning herself with the menu. Her libido sat up and purred. “Girl, if he was really interested, I’d hit that in a heartbeat!” Gina grinned. “You go girl. There’s nothing like rebound sex to make 121

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you forget an ex.” “Is that the gospel according to Gina?” “Damn skippy.” Gina leaned forward, pointing with one perfectly French manicured nail. “And just think how overjoyed he’ll be when he sees you in all your bare-skinned glory! He’ll fall to his knees in thanks. Then you can straddle his face.” “Gina!” Kat tried to be shocked but wound up snorting in laughter instead. Her girl knew how to say what needed to be said, and do what needed to be done. It was thanks to Gina that Kat had the motivation to end the nowhere relationship she should have stuck a fork in months before. Pietro returned with the waitress, decanting a bottle of red and pouring a sample for Kat. She swirled it around the bowl, sniffed the bouquet, then took a small sip, allowing the flavors to roll over her tongue. “Very good,” she announced. “Glad you approve,” Pietro said, pouring her a fresh glass. “This is my favorite. Do you ladies live here, or are you visiting?” “We’re on vacation,” Gina answered, obviously distracted by the bread the waitress placed before her. “It’s the only reason I’m allowing myself to enjoy this.” She closed her eyes in apparent rapture as she bit into a piece of bread. Kat rolled her eyes. “Excuse my friend while she has a food-gasm.” Pietro smiled, revealing deep laugh lines and a dimple in his right cheek. “And what can I do to give you a food-gasm, Katerina?” Heat blossomed in Kat’s cheeks. Even Gina had stopped moaning to look at Kat in eager expectation. What the hell, she decided, and returned his smile. “Besides you covered in chocolate sauce? I suppose I’ll start with the caprese salad, and let you choose what I have next.” Pietro leaned closer to her, his hand warm in the center of her back. “I’m sure I can come up with something to satisfy your appetite, bella Katerina,” he said, his voice sliding like silk over her skin. “I will make it my top priority to leave you extremely satisfied.” “I appreciate that.” Kat barely refrained from fanning herself with the menu again. She shifted in her chair, crossing her legs in self-defense, grateful that they were on a crowded sidewalk. It was about the only thing 122

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keeping her from jumping his bones then and there. Gina was content with the bread as appetizer, so Kat ordered the caprese and emptied her wine glass as the waitress left. Pietro promptly refilled it for her. “Thank you, but don’t you need to go charm other people into dining at your restaurant?” He shrugged. “It’s why I have people, is it not? Do you see anything you like?” “I sure do.” She smiled up at him. “I meant, on the menu.” “Oh.” Flame on, she thought as her cheeks heated. She heard Gina cough to cover a giggle as she flipped her menu over. “There’s so much to choose from. What do you suggest?” “The possibilities are endless. Do you prefer seafood, poultry, or beef? Or are vegetarian dishes more to your liking?” Kat snorted. “I’m an omnivore, darling. If it tastes good, I’ll eat it.” “Most excellent. Do you prefer white or red sauces?” Kat glanced at her watch. Trying to do a red sauce heavier than marinara wouldn’t be a good idea this late in the day. “Why don’t we go with white? Maybe with roasted garlic?” Gina kicked her under the table. Kat glanced at her and received a look that clearly said, Are you crazy? “Too much garlic is just enough?” Pietro asked. “Absolutely. You read my mind.” That slow smile curved his lips again. “If you’ll let me choose, I think I can come up with something pleasing to you.” Kat sat back, aware of his hand still on the back of her chair. “I leave myself in your capable hands.” His hand danced over her shoulder blades and his smiled dimmed. Crap, she’d flirted too hard. Then his smile returned, and it was different—dark, predatory, and very, very male. He leaned over, ostensibly to take the menu. “You will find, bella, that my hands are not the only things capable.” Kat couldn’t help the slight sound she made, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. She turned towards him at the exact moment he turned towards her. Their lips brushed the corners of each other’s mouths. Just 123

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the slightest touch, but one that pebbled her nipples and swept through her body down to her toes. He straightened abruptly, his smile completely gone, his expression serious, almost unnerving. “I’ll return, Katerina,” he promised, then left. “Damn girl,” Gina breathed after they both upended their wine glasses. “That steamed my contacts up. Are you all right?” “Yeah.” Kat had to swallow several times before she could get a full sentence out. “Didn’t you say something about visiting your grandmother while you’re here?” Gina’s smile spread over her face, slow as molasses and just as sweet. “I was planning to visit her tomorrow,” she answered. “I’m guessing you want me to go tonight and leave the suite to you?” “I…I think that might be a good idea.” Kat’s hand shook as she poured the last of the wine into her glass. “If he’s serious, I mean. If he wants to, then I definitely want to. It’ll be the first one-night stand I’ve ever had.” Gina lifted her wineglass. “Well, here’s to first times then. Hopefully ordering the garlic special won’t be held against you.” “If he can’t stand a little garlic, he’s in the wrong profession.” Kat tapped the bowl of her glass against Gina’s, but didn’t drink. She needed to get something more substantial into her stomach first. Food-wise, she clarified to herself, and smothered a giggle. “Girl, I hope I can make this work, so thanks for giving up the hotel for a night. At the very least you won’t have to listen to me masturbating all night.” “Like it would be the first time,” Gina retorted, tossing her sablecolored hair over her shoulders. “But I don’t think you’ll have to do the self-love thing tonight. He’s not wearing a ring and he’s definitely gone on you.” Reaching for her water glass, Kat let her gaze wander over the people strolling by. Not all of them were Ken and Barbies, but a great many were, all perfect and plastic and slightly boring. Her ego had taken a hard hit after her breakup with Max, but she was coming out of it. She had a print of Maya Angelou’s poem Phenomenal Woman taped to the mirror in her bathroom and read it every morning and evening after brushing her teeth. Kat knew the words by heart, and they were as 124

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much a part of her as her skin. Coming to South Beach with Gina had been like graduating from heartbreak high, and flirting with Pietro was the after-party. “I hope you’re right, Gina,” she finally said. “Because I definitely plan to ask Pietro Filipini if he’ll deliver dessert to the hotel.”

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Chapter Three Pietro stood by the entrance to Bella Luna. Laughter floated to him on the salt-laden breeze as diners enjoyed their meals and strollers enjoyed being seen, but he ignored them. Instead, he focused on a table for two roughly twenty feet away, and one diner in particular. “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Mauricio commented, pausing beside him. “Stunning.” Pietro turned to his younger brother. “How long have I been staring?” “Long enough for the wait staff to start taking bets,” Mauricio answered. Pietro ruefully shook his head. He was close to making a fool of himself over the black beauty with the Botticelli curves and mischievous dark eyes, not that he cared. “And where does your money lie?” “That depends.” Mauricio glanced at the table then back to his brother. “Are you going to get to know her better?” “You think I should?” “Why not? She likes to laugh. She likes to eat. She looks good in that dress. How many women have you had since the divorce?” “Who has time?” Pietro shrugged, not really wanting to ponder his brother’s question. Though he’d been agreeable during the proceedings, the divorce had pricked his pride. It was such an American thing to do. Even though it was something that needed to be done, ending the marriage had still rankled, and the state of being alone after twenty years had surprised him with its brutality. “Not many women want someone with our schedules,” he finally said. “All the more reason to hook up with a pretty tourist,” his brother suggested with a grin. “You’re forty-two, not dead. I can close the restaurant with one hand behind my back. And if I don’t hear from you by midnight, I won’t expect you in tomorrow either. Her friend is leaving the table. Now’s your chance. Go.” Katerina’s friend gave him a large smile as she approached. “Where’s the ladies room?” “Through the bar, then to the right,” Pietro told her. “Did you enjoy 126

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your meal?” “It was wonderful, thank you.” She paused. “I’m going to have to skip dessert, though. I’m visiting my grandmother tonight, and she’ll want to feed me again.” “And what will the lovely Katerina be doing?” he wondered. “I think she’s hoping to have dessert.” Pietro absorbed the news, then inclined his head. “Thank you.” “No problem,” Gina said, giving him a wink. “Good luck.” Pietro made his way over to Katerina. Night had fallen, but the glow from the tealight centerpiece sparkled in her eyes as she smiled at him. He remembered the light touch of her lips against his, and need wrapped a fist around him. “Did you enjoy your dinner?” Pietro asked when he could breathe again. “Oh very much so,” she assured him as he took Gina’s vacated chair. “All of the flavors blended together beautifully. My compliments to your chef.” “Good.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Please tell me that you left room dessert?” “Actually…” She took a deep breath, then bit her bottom lip. “I’d love to take it back to my hotel room. I don’t suppose you could deliver it for me?” “Katerina.” He wrapped his fingers around hers to keep himself from dragging her close. “Are you trying to pick me up?” “Yeah.” She gazed up at him. “Is it working?” “That depends.” He leaned forward. “Do you like chocolate?” “I love chocolate,” she managed to say. “You are single, aren’t you?” “Divorced. After twenty years, my wife decided that I loved restaurants more than her.” He gave her what he hoped was a self-deprecating smile. “She may have been right.” “I understand the long hours. I’m a food critic, so I’m in restaurants all the time.” “We should be enemies then.” He stroked her hand, wanting to be anything but enemies. She drew a short breath. “I’d much rather be lovers.” The warmth in her voice clenched his gut. “This isn’t just the wine 127

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talking?” She leaned closer. “As good as your red is, it will take more than two glasses of wine to make me proposition someone I don’t want to sleep with. And I very much want to sleep with you.” He brought her hand up for a lingering kiss, a promise of more to come. “Dessert it is, then. Give me an hour?”

w An hour later, Kat paced the seating area of the suite she shared with Gina, wondering what in the hell she’d gotten herself into. Then she wondered if Pietro would actually show up, and what she would do if he did. Who was she kidding? It was ten paces to the closest horizontal surface. If she jumped him as soon as he hit the door, she was sure he could carry her that far. She’d showered and changed into a bright orange wrap dress, gargled the garlic out of her mouth, and spent half an hour trying to figure out what to do with her hair before just pulling it back into a ponytail. The door to her room stood open, the covers turned back, one lamp on low. The dessert wine she’d ordered to pair with the chocolate confection Pietro had promised to bring chilled in the ice bucket on the bar in the main room. Pietro had about five minutes before she’d pop the cork and get plastered. The knock on the door nearly had her jumping out of her skin. With her heart suddenly pounding, she peeked through the viewer, recognized Pietro. A hot rush filled her, stealing her breath. The moment of truth had arrived. She opened the door. He gave her a smile that throttled her libido into high gear. His eyes swept her from toes to head, lingering on her breasts, then her eyes. “Katerina.” “Hi,” she whispered, feeling suddenly shy and a little silly. Without another word, she stepped back to let him in. He stepped over the threshold, placing a small paper tote bag emblazoned with his restaurant’s logo onto the entry table. As soon as she let go of the door he pulled her close, cupped the back of her neck, and kissed her. It was a hard, strong kiss, unmistakable in its intent. Kat clutched his 128

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shoulders, bracing against the sensual assault that threatened to buckle her knees. Then the kiss softened, became coaxing, teasing. She pressed closer, her earlier nervousness and doubts completely obliterated. Pietro slowly pulled away. “I’ve wanted to do that for hours.” “I’m glad I gave you the chance.” Her breath stuttered as his fingers stroked her cheek. “I thought you weren’t going to show.” “I thought you weren’t going to let me in.” Kat stepped away from him long enough to grab the “Do Not Disturb” placard and hook it on the outside of the door before closing and locking it. He’d changed as well, the burgundy dress shirt complimenting his skin and doing dangerous things to his eyes. The subtle scent of his cologne, spicy and sensual, stole into her senses. She took a steadying breath. “Life’s too short not to have dessert.” “I agree.” He caught the ends of her sash, the slight pull bringing her closer. “Should we start with dessert, or go right to dessert?” His heavy-lidded look of desire melted her insides. She slipped her arms around his neck, trying to be sophisticated and seductive when all she wanted to do was push him over the back of the couch and have her way with him. “Let’s start with dessert,” she suggested. “Then we can have more dessert.” “Molto bene.” He tugged her sash loose then dragged her against him, letting her know exactly what he wanted first. For a long heartbeat he just stared at her, making her wonder what he wanted to read in her eyes. He must have found what he was looking for, because he lowered his head to kiss her again. She met him eagerly, kissing him back with pressing need. He pushed the dress from her shoulders. She let go of him long enough to let it fall to the floor, then went for his shirt buttons. Impatience and need made her fumble and curse. He laughed, low and sexy. “So eager for me,” he said, removing his cufflinks and tossing them to the floor. The shirt quickly followed. “What you do for a man’s ego.” “Just wait until you see what I do to the rest of you,” Kat declared, backing towards her room. Pietro swooped down on her for another bruising kiss. How they 129

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actually made it into the room without breaking anything, Kat had no idea. The kiss added to the heat his words had sparked, flaring throughout her system and threatening to become a blaze. The rest of their clothes disappeared in a hail of limbs and fabric and curses and laughter. She all but fell into bed, taking him with her. The feel of his body against hers, so hot and willing, made her ravenous. “Such a beautiful body,” Pietro whispered appreciatively, his hands cupping her breasts. “How lucky am I that you stopped at my restaurant?” “Thank the bread,” she said breathless, tendrils of pleasure snaking through her as he rubbed the pads of his thumbs over her nipples. “We wouldn’t have stopped if Gina hadn’t seen it.” “I’ll promote the bread tomorrow. I’ll nominate it for sainthood.” He bent low over her left breast, taking the nipple into the warmth of his mouth. Kat groaned loudly in response, her legs moving restlessly on the bed. She could feel the hard length of him pressed against her thigh and she wanted it, wanted him. “Pietro.” His mouth covered hers again, his body shifting, angling over hers. Then he froze. “Condoms. My pocket. Merda. Where are my pants?” “I’ve got some.” Kat’s hand flailed out, knocking the alarm clock off the nightstand. Pietro opened the drawer, pull out a handful of foilwrapped packets. Kat stroked a hand over the dark whorls of hair covering his chest, causing him to suck in a harsh breath as he ripped open a packet. “You’re so gorgeous,” she breathed as her hand slipped down, wrapped around his erection. “And you smell so good.” “Katerina.” His eyes slid shut in apparent pleasure as she stroked him. With a ragged breath he pulled her hand away. He quickly sheathed himself, then pressed her back against the pillows. His eyes bored into hers, dark and intense as he slowly, silently pushed into her. Kat groaned in appreciation as he filled her, withdrew, then filled her again. “You feel good,” she whispered. “So do you, bella,” he whispered back, his lips brushing hers. “Wrap around me.” 130

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She did, legs circling his waist, arms curving over his shoulders. He rocked against her, his thrusts hard and demanding. Her inner muscles flexing, drawing him deeper. Panting with the desire, she shoved a hand between their shifting bodies, finding the spot where they connected. They both groaned as she stroked. Bliss rippled through her as Pietro shifted higher and increased his pace, his hips pistoning against her as the top of his cock rubbed against her. Tension coiled deep inside Kat, tightening her body, her senses. Her body arched against his, relentlessly pursuing the peak of pleasure. Almost…almost… Even though she’d been striving for it, Kat gasped as her orgasm swept through her. She clutched Pietro’s shoulders, holding on as the sensation rolled through her, causing her inner muscles to clench around him. He responded immediately, burying his face into the crook of her neck, holding her tight as he drove into her over and over. All at once he stiffened against her, head tossed back, cords standing out at his throat. Then he collapsed against her, breath slipping slowly from his lips. He brushed his lips across hers, once, twice, again. “Grazie, bella.”

w Reluctantly, Pietro moved away from Katerina, missing the luscious warmth of her body already. He went into the connecting bathroom to discard the condom and clean up before returning to her. “Are you ready for the real dessert now?” She stretched, grinned. “Darlin’, that was the real dessert.” He laughed. “Maybe I should have said, now that one hunger has been fed, are you ready to feed the other?” “Absolutely. I definitely need some of that wine.” She threw back the covers. “No, stay,” Pietro said, putting a hand on her shoulder to keep her in bed. “I’ll bring it to you.” “I’m just going to the bathroom, then coming right back.” She winked at him. “I’ve discovered that I have a thing for dessert in bed.” She gave him a quick, hard kiss before heading for the bathroom. He stared after her, transfixed, before shaking out of his daze and heading out 131

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into the main room. He felt a grin curve his lips as he spotted the trail of clothing leading from the door to the bedroom. Her desire had been as fiery as his own, and he’d relished it. Her appetite for sex was just as healthy as her appetite for food. What a woman! Whistling, he retrieved the to go bag, then snagged the wine on the way back to the bedroom. For a moment he just stood in the doorway, watching her. Her eyes were closed, but he didn’t think she was asleep. She’d propped herself on her side, facing the door, the low-slung sheet a creamy contrast to her skin. As soon as she realized he was there, she pulled the sheet up to her breasts. “No, no bella,” he admonished, “you’re too beautiful to be covered up.” He put the wine bottle on the nightstand and tugged the sheet down to her waist. Her lashes dropped down. “You say the most amazing things.” “Are you blushing, Katerina?” “Like I can help it when you say stuff like that.” She reached for the wine, took a healthy swallow. “I say what I mean, nothing less.” He sat next to her on the bed, opened the dessert bag, and removed the container and plastic ware. “And I say you are very becoming when you blush.” After removing the lid, he balanced the container of chocolate caramel goodness on Katerina’s bare belly. “We call this Chocolate Vesuvius,” he told her, spooning up a bite’s worth. “It’s a chocolate fudge pyramid filled with caramel, covered with ganache, and lightly dusted with espresso. Normally we serve it warm, but I think you’ll still enjoy it.” She opened her mouth, accepting the spoonful he offered. “Oh, that’s good. It’s like biting into chocolate-covered soft caramel with a caffeine hit.” He propped himself on one elbow beside her, then fed her another spoonful. The way she savored the bite made him want her again. “Do you know how sexy it is to watch you enjoy my food?” “Ah, no,” she answered. He’d obviously flustered her again, judging by the way she suddenly avoided his eyes. He thought it entirely cute. “I stopped the whole eating like a bird thing in high school,” she told him, her tone apologetic. “Once I hit puberty and my boobs and hips 132

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came in, I realized I would never be a size two. I’m okay with that, because I am a Phenomenal Woman.” “You most certainly are, Katerina,” he agreed, taking a swig of the wine to keep from touching her. “A very beautiful, very phenomenal woman.” “You get a kiss for that.” She reached up, her fingers grazing his chin as their lips met. She tasted sweet, sweeter than the chocolate and wine on both their lips, pure intoxication. Need spiked inside him again, refusing to let go. He couldn’t get enough of her. A handful of hours wouldn’t be nearly enough. He drew away reluctantly, his eyes heavy. “Spend the day with me tomorrow.” The sensual haze left her eyes. “What?” “Spend tomorrow with me, Katerina. I can show you around South Beach, take you out on my boat.” She propped herself onto her elbows, mindful of spilling the dessert plate. “You have a boat?” He nodded. “I keep it docked in the marina, not too far from the restaurant or here. I take it out to the ocean every once in a while as well.” He paused, belatedly remembering her friend. “Do you and your friend have other plans?” “Gina’s going to be with her grandmother for most of the day tomorrow, so I’d planned to relax, maybe do some exploring, a little shopping,” she answered. “Bene. Then allow me to show you the sights. Give me the honor of escorting a beautiful woman around.” She sighed. “You know exactly what to say, when to say it, and how. I think you could sell me timeshares in the Sahara.” He relaxed into a smile. “Is that a yes?” “Hhm, I think it’s a maybe.” She settled against the pillows, her dark eyes twinkling. “Feel free to persuade me.” The next dollop of dessert just happened to land on her right breast. “Oh no, there’s chocolate on my chocolate.” “I suppose something should be done about that,” she said, her voice soft. 133

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“True.” He returned the plate to the nightstand and picked up the wine bottle. She gasped as he poured a few drops into her navel. “Ah, and now there’s wine too,” he murmured. “What do you think I should do now?” Desire glazed her eyes. “I’m sure something will come to you.” His smile was pure Italian confidence. “I was thinking come for me, rather than come to me. But how to start? It’s lucky I have this lovely map to tell me which direction to go, isn’t it?” He slid down her body. It took him less than ten minutes to get her to scream “Yes!” at the top of her lungs.

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Chapter Four It doesn’t get any better than this. Kat adjusted the brim of her straw hat to keep the sun from her face. Pietro had taken the boat about a mile from the shore before dropping anchor. The ocean matched the sky, shades of blue topaz topped by white waves and strings of clouds. Boating down the Intercoastal to the ocean inlet had been a fantastic experience, far different from being on a cruise ship. She’d grinned like a kid into the breeze and even squealed a couple of times when they’d reached the ocean and he’d given her a turn at the wheel. Of course, he’d stood close behind her and did most of the piloting while she simply held on, but it had been a fantastic experience. The whole interlude was shaping up to be her best vacation ever. Pietro was the most amazing man she’d ever met. It was the first time she’d had a perfect morning-after, no awkward, sheepish conversation or sneaking away. They’d ordered room service for breakfast, and barely made it through before trying out the couch. She didn’t think she’d look at strawberry preserves again without thinking of him. Atlanta was going to be dull as hell when she returned. “Here you are.” Pietro handed her a slender glass of bright yellow liquid then placed the tray on a little fold-down table between their chairs before taking his seat. He reached for his own glass. “Here’s to a beautiful day with a beautiful woman.” “And beautiful words from a beautiful man.” She clicked her glass against his, then took a sip. The citrus flavor exploded on her tongue. “Wow. This is limoncello?” “Si, imported from Sicily. Normally it is an after-dinner digestivo, but a lot of our South Beach patrons treat it like high-powered lemonade. What do you think?” “It’s good and sweet, and I think I’m going to be tipsy in five minutes,” she declared. “Which is why I only had one sip. Of course, should you feel the need to lie down, remember there’s a queen-sized bed in the berth below 135

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deck.” “I remember.” Kat was plenty sure she’d feel the need for the bed sooner rather than later. That had more to do with seeing Pietro’s trim body in white shorts and a polo shirt than the limoncello. She had to give the man time to recover, though. “Your boat is beautiful, and so roomy. You know I’m not going to remember all the boat terms for right and left and front and back, right?” “I promise not to hold it against you.” His voice dropped to a tone that skimmed her senses. “Especially since I’d rather you concentrate on terms like harder and faster and there and please.” “Thanks.” Heat flushed her cheeks. Maybe Pietro had recovered after all. She blurted out the first distracting thing that came to mind. “How did you come to live on a boat?” “Paloma got the house in the divorce.” “Oh.” She looked down at her glass. “Sorry.” “Don’t be. I love this boat. Between it and the marina, I have all the amenities I need. And the divorce was more than two years ago.” “How long were you married?” “Nearly twenty years,” he answered. “After our son graduated high school, we separated, then divorced. Scandalized our families, but they are slowly recovering. What of you?” “Me? I’ve never been married,” she answered, tipping the glass for another sip. “Came close a couple of times, then came to my senses. Gina and I came down here to celebrate the end of my last going-nowhere relationship, which ended about a month ago.” “Then I am even more of a lucky man. Where did you come from, to celebrate your latest breakup here?” “Atlanta.” Wow. She squirmed on the bench seat. Her insides were beginning to warm, either from the sun or the limoncello or Pietro’s gaze. Or all three. “Ah, Atlanta.” Pietro plucked several grapes from the bunch on the tray. “My brother and I had planned to open another restaurant there in Buckhead, but the real estate prices in that area—Dio mio!” Kat parted her lips to accept the grape Pietro offered her. Her stomach clenched at the look in his eyes as she slowly drew the pale green fruit between her lips, chewed, swallowed. She had to swallow again before she 136

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could speak. “You know, Buckhead’s not the only area you could put a successful restaurant. The northern suburbs are hopping and have populations with disposable incomes and a phobia against cooking. You’d have to give up the whole flirting on the sidewalk thing though, because those people are drivers, not strollers.” He raised his eyebrows. “How can I give up flirting? Would you have even noticed me if I didn’t flirt?” “Oh, I’d have noticed you all right,” she said, a little breathless. “I just wouldn’t have considered that you were interested in more than a patron for dinner.” “A man would have to be dead to not be interested,” Pietro declared, dark eyes sparkling. He fed her another grape, his thumb lingering against her lower lip. “Who can resist these lips, those eyes, that laugh?” He rose from his chair to sit beside her on the lounger. His hand slipped up her calf beneath her voluminous white skirt. “Who wouldn’t be interested in these shapely legs, those beautiful breasts, and all these soft curves? You are a feast, and I am a starving man.” She drew a short, sharp breath. “If you’re trying to get into my panties, it’s working.” He smiled. “Bella Katerina, you aren’t wearing any.” “Ah,” she breathed, then forgot the rest as his finger slipped inside her. He leaned over her, taking her sigh of pleasure before taking her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. She moaned deep in her throat, kissing him back with all the need and desire she had, arching against the magic of his hand. After a long, heart-stopping while, he pulled away, his breathing heavy and harsh. “I want to see you in my bed.” The possessive demand in his voice made her slick. She nodded, unsure if she could say yes properly. She wanted to be in his bed, his arms, his mouth. He pulled her to her feet, holding her close as the boat rocked gently beneath them. She kissed him, because she couldn’t be that close and not kiss him. His fingers dug into her buttocks in reaction before he pried himself away. Kat grinned as he firmly took her hand to guide her to the doorway leading below deck. 137

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Need pulsed through Kat and she entered the surprisingly spacious main cabin. A banquette sat on the left, with plenty of room for four adults. The kitchen—no, galley—had a fridge, microwave, stove and sink. The boat seemed better equipped than some RVs she’d seen. She would have been happy to hike her skirt up and bend over the banquette but he led her aft. Still keeping his left hand tangled in hers, he used his right to jerk open a partitioned door to reveal a queen-sized bed decked out in gold and white with a changing area and closet tucked into an alcove on the right. Pietro sat on the edge of the bed to reach up and pull the covers back, then shifted to face her. “Bella, mi bella,” he said, his hands skimming up her sides to the waistband of her gauzy skirt. “I need to see your beautiful skin.” With his help, she pushed the fabric off her hips, allowing the skirt to puddle at her bare feet. His hands glided up her thighs again, over her hips bones, pale thumbs brushing across the juncture of her thighs. When she widened her stance, he pressed his index finger against her, sliding along her folds. “Why did you do this?” He emphasized his question by running his hand over her bare skin. “Uh—I—a gray hair,” she answered lamely. He stroked her again. “You do not like gray hair?” “On you it’s gorgeous,” she said, her hands gripping his shoulders in an attempt to keep her balance. “On me, it just made me feel old.” “How old are you, Katerina?” “Uhm…” She bit her lip to keep from moaning aloud as his thumb pressed against her. “Thirty-four. Yep, I’m thirty-four.” “And I’m forty-two. Do you think of me as old?” Was this a new kind of torture? “No. I just think of you as sexy and gorgeous and fine and sexy. Did I mention sexy?” “Yes, you did,” he murmured. “So I will forgive you for being as bare as a newborn. Especially since you’re so wet for me already.” His voice thickened as he stroked her. “I will enjoy tasting you.” She moaned as he withdrew his hand, helpless and needing, but he reached for the knot she’d tied in her blouse. His nimble fingers made short work of it, his hands brushing against her breasts causing her breath 138

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to shorten. With an impatient shrug, she let the crinkled white cotton join the skirt, then went to work on the front clasp of her bra. One tug and it parted, revealing her breasts. Pietro murmured in appreciation, the rough tips of his index fingers teasing her nipples to tight puckered peaks. Kat had to rest her hands on his shoulders for balance as he warmed her left nipple with his tongue, teased with his teeth, soothed with his lips. His name whispered from her as he switched his attentions to her right breast, stoking the desire swirling inside her. She felt decadent and bare standing nude in front of him, stripped down to her feminine essence, free to be herself now that she had nothing to hide behind. This was the last fantastic day of a long fantastic vacation and she intended to enjoy it to the fullest. He guided her to her back, then rose to stare down at her. “Look at you, in my bed,” he told her, his voice husky with wonder. “You’re like a dream.” “If this is a dream, don’t wake me up.” Kat stretched her arms above her head, reveling in the intensity of his gaze. No one had ever made her feel this desirable, this wanted. “Come here, so I can thank you properly,” she managed to say, holding a hand out to him. He pulled the polo over his head, dropping it to the floor without ever taking his gaze from hers. His shorts followed suit, revealing his erection jutting proudly towards her. Instead of immediately draping his body over hers, he knelt between her legs, his hands stroking her from her ankles to her knees then back again. “Look at your beautiful skin, so warm and soft,” he whispered. “Like chocolate satin.” “Pietro.” Kat quivered on the bed, needing him to join her. Needing some part of him inside her. “Pietro, per favore…” “Si.” He nodded, and his hands slid down her thighs, cupping her buttocks. She whimpered in anticipation, in want, in supplication. He granted her wordless request by pressing his mouth against her, the flat of his tongue stroking over her clitoris. She moaned as heat engulfed her, spreading from the center of her body. Her fingers sank into his hair as he laved her again then again, as if 139

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sampling her like a fine wine. A shudder passed through him before he pressed even closer, burying his tongue deep. Her hips left the bed as she cried out, arching against his mouth. He continued his pleasurable assault, stroking her with fingers and tongue. Sensual pressure built inside her again and she was helpless against it, her body buffeted by waves of delicious sensation. She bucked wildly as her passion crested again, Pietro’s name like a sob from her lips. He brought her down gently, kissing his way up her body. “I love the way you sing for me, bella,” he whispered, just before he claimed her mouth. She kissed him, passionately and without reservation, holding nothing back, hungry for his mouth, for him. She rolled him onto his back, then began kissing her way down his throat, breathing in the spicy scent that was his alone. The dark hair covering his chest tickled against her lips as she leisurely made her way to his left nipple. He sucked in a harsh breath as her teeth gently closed against him. His response encouraged and emboldened her. Her hand slid down the flat planes of his stomach to wrap around his erection. He groaned loudly, thickening in her hand as she stroked him. She dragged her mouth across his skin to his right nipple, circling it with her tongue. He shuddered, his hips flexing, thrusting his cock through her grip. “Katerina,” he breathed, no longer bothering with English. “Bella, give me your mouth.” The husky words had her smiling against his skin. She released her hold on his nipple, mouthing her way across his skin, following the dark arrow of hair down to his navel. She dipped her tongue into the indentation before nipping her way down to his engorged flesh. She ran her tongue along the delicate skin of his sac, enjoying the sounds she elicited from him. Taking her time, she licked her way up to the sensitive head peeking from the foreskin. Still stroking him, she swirled her tongue around the tip, getting used to the feel of him. Then she drew him into her mouth. He groaned again, his breath coming in gasps as she suckled and stroked in tandem. Slow then quick, hard then soft, she pleasured him just 140

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as thoroughly and relentlessly as he’d pleasured her earlier. “Katerina.” His voice was a strangled, frantic whisper. “Katerina, let me inside you.” She pulled away reluctantly. “You already were.” “Woman.” His attempt at being stern failed completely as he watched her stroking him, his expression tightening with need. “I want you to ride me.” She thought it an excellent idea. “Condom.” He found one, handed it to her. She tore the packet open, removed the latex sheath, then unrolled it onto his cock. She quickly straddled him. He gripped himself, sliding the head against her slit. She moaned, trembling with need as he fit himself to her opening. “Now, bella,” he instructed. She sank down onto him, mutual sighs escaping as she settled fully against him. Her hips flexed as she rose, then sank onto him again, then again, finding a workable rhythm. The hungry pleasure in his eyes, the softly whispered Italian spurred her on, made her determined to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her. His right hand slid from her waist, his thumb finding her center. Her inner muscles clenched wildly at the added sensation, causing them both to moan loudly. Need spiraled inside her, urging her on. Her movements became jerky, almost frantic as she increased the pace, driving them both higher up the steep slope to fulfillment. She could feel the outer edge of it, a gathering force. Her body shifted forward, her fists planted into the mattress on either side of his shoulders as she rode him. Pietro’s free hand cupped her breast, lightly pinching the hardened tip. She came down hard on him as pleasure exploded inside her as she cried out. Groaning something between a blessing and a curse, Pietro clamped his fingers to her hips, driving into her, his wild thrusts all but lifting them from the bed. With a short, guttural cry he came, hands digging painfully into her hipbones. She collapsed against him, breathless and languid and completely spent. He wrapped his arms around her, rolling them to their sides before easing out of her. She instantly missed him. For the longest while they just held each other as the boat rocked 141

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gently on its anchor. Struggling against sleepy afterglow, Kat pressed several kisses to his throat, his chin, the edge of his mouth. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she stared into his eyes, so dark, so unreadable. Her fingers traced the contours of his lips. “What—what are you thinking?” He blinked, the easy expression returning to his features. He brushed her bangs back from her forehead. “Selfish things, bella Katerina. Selfish things.” Her heart lurched again. “Pietro—” “Sleep, Katerina,” he urged, easing away from her. “I’m going above to take the boat back in. I will awaken you in enough time to show you around South Beach.”

w The rest of the day passed much too quickly for Kat. They went on a walking tour of the Art Deco district, taking their time taking in the sights and sounds of Ocean Drive. She took a slew of pictures, and even convinced a couple of passersby to snap photos of her with Pietro. Even though she knew she’d never see him again, she wanted the memories of the weekend. Her feet dragged as Pietro walked her back to her hotel room. “Well, here we are,” she said lamely, shuffling to a stop. “Si, here we are.” She looked up at him, so gorgeous, so sexy. About to be so far away. Her chest tightened at the thought. Damn it, she was not going to get all emotional over a one-night stand that had lasted two glorious days. “Pietro—” He dragged her close, kissing her with abandon. Her purse slipped from her hands as she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him back with everything she had. He eased back but didn’t release his hold. “I will visit Atlanta,” he said, his voice implacable. “You will see me.” “Of course I will,” she agreed, hoping that he would show even though she didn’t believe it. “I’d love to show you around my town.” “Good.” He released her, stepped back. “How can I contact you?” She quickly retrieved her purse from the floor, rooted around in it for her wallet. She found her business cards, pulled out one, then handed it 142

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to him. He pulled out his own wallet, placed her card inside, then pulled out one of his. “Will you mail me copies of the pictures?” “Of course.” She tucked his card into her purse. “I’ll get them printed out as soon as I get home.” He reached out, gathered her hand in his. “Bella Katerina, thank you for giving me this day,” he said, his voice formal and solemn as he kissed the back of her hand. “I will treasure the memory.” She swallowed hard, trying to speak past the sudden, painful lump in her throat. “So will I.” I won’t say anything stupid, I won’t cry, I won’t make a fool of myself… He kissed each cheek before stepping back from her. “Open the door now, per favore.” She did as he asked, turning to slip her card into the lock slot, wondering if the huskiness in his voice meant that he wanted to be invited in one more time. She pushed open the door, then turned around. “You know, a nightcap wouldn’t hur—” No one stood in the hallway behind her. Pietro was gone.

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Chapter Five “Pietro.” He looked up as his brother entered the office. “What is it?” Mauricio held a battered brown envelope out to him. “Jesse just found this. He said it had fallen between the bar’s register and the counter.” Pietro took the envelope, saw his name neatly printed on it. Then he noticed the return address label. “It’s from Katerina!” “Si.” Mauricio didn’t look happy at the news. “Look at the date.” Pietro’s stomach dropped as he saw the date stamp across the postage. “This was sent more than a month ago. She must have sent it as soon as she got back home, just as she’d said she would.” “It looks like it.” His fingers gripped the envelope as his excitement evaporated. “I thought she wasn’t going to send them. I thought I’d upset her by the way I’d walked away from her that night.” “I know.” Pietro clenched his jaw. “I didn’t have any choice. It was hard enough to walk away—I certainly couldn’t do it with her looking at me. But she sent the pictures anyway, and I haven’t answered her. What must she think of me now?” “Open the letter, see what she has to say. Then you can decide if you want to go through with our plans, or if you’d prefer I take over.” Mauricio clapped him on the shoulder. “It might not be too late.” Pietro tore open the envelope as his brother left the office. He pulled out a smaller envelope thick with photos and a folded sheet of creamcolored paper. Here are the photos I promised you, the note read. I think they turned out very well, especially the one on the boat. Thanks again for an excellent time. I look forward to returning the favor in my town. Katerina. Pietro carefully folded the note, then placed it in the center of his desk. He slowly went through the photos, stopping when he found the one Katerina had mentioned in her note. Memories flooded him, sharp and bittersweet. How enthusiastic she’d been, laughing joyously as he’d taken the boat out. The exuberant way 144

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she’d enjoyed his food, his body, even his conversation. It had taken all his will to take her back to her hotel room, to leave her standing at the door. He’d almost gone back, and called himself ten kinds of fool for behaving like a love-starved adolescent. He’d promised himself that he would let her take the lead, let her contact him first if she was interested. After a month, he’d resigned himself to the fact that it wouldn’t happen. Obviously she’d just considered it a weekend fling, a one-night stand that had lasted a day and a half. He had to do the same. Except for the fact that he thought of her everyday and fantasized about her every night. He looked at the photo again. If it had been any other couple in the picture, he would have said that they were newlyweds flush with the fire of a grand love. Katerina looked absolutely radiant, and he couldn’t believe the carefree man in the photo hugging her was himself. He picked up her note again, read it again. Surely she wouldn’t have called his attention to the boat photo if it didn’t mean something. And she promised to show him an excellent time in Atlanta. She called herself Katerina. Pietro gathered the photos and the note, taking care not to bend them as he put them back into the smaller envelope. He stood, sliding the envelope into his pants’ pocket, then went to find his brother. “You’ve decided something,” Mauricio said as he stopped at the entrance. “What is it?” “I need someone to look after the boat. I’m going to be away for a while.” His brother smiled. “Any particular location in mind?” Pietro smiled. “There’s only one way to go from Miami, and that’s north.”

w “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Kat didn’t try to play it off. Much. “Did not.” “Did too. You didn’t even pretend to question who I was talking about.” “What other ‘him’ have I been around to allegedly fall in love with, besides the very gay delivery guy?” she demanded, pushing back from her desk to glare at Gina. “I’m sure as shit not pining away.” 145

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“Ah-ha!” Gina leveled a bright red claw at her. “So you are pining away!” “Put that away before you put my eye out! I’m not pining and I’m not in love!” Gina folded her arms. “You’re protesting a little too much, chica. Nice photo, by the way.” Kat’s gaze dropped to the silver frame on her desk. It contained a photo of her and Pietro after they’d brought the Bella Sera back to dock. Someone from the berth next to Pietro’s had graciously agreed to take their picture. Pietro stood behind her, arms around her waist, both of them grinning like idiots into the camera. Kat didn’t think she’d ever been as blissfully happy as that moment. She certainly hadn’t been as happy since. A heavy sigh burst from Kat’s lips. “I fell in lust, not love. It was a magical weekend, the kind that hardly ever happens in real life. Pietro made me feel more special and desirable in those two days than Gary did in the two years we dated. I got caught up in the romance of it. He made me feel special because he was gorgeous and he wanted me, and I let it go to my head.” She swiveled her chair around. “We talked, we laughed, we had hot sex. Nuclear hot. But I didn’t fall in love with him. It was just a fantasy fling. Besides, there’s this little thing called 700 miles between us.” Gina put a hand to her hip. “You checked the distance, huh?” “Gina, please! I’m in Atlanta, he’s in Miami. I’m thirty-four, he’s forty-two. I’ve got a decent business here, he’s got a successful restaurant there. There are more reasons why it wouldn’t work than there are why it would.” Gina sat on the edge of her desk, picked up the photo. “But the one reason why it could work is the most important reason of all, isn’t it?” The unexpected softness in her friend’s tone blew away Kat’s defenses. “Oh, God.” She slid a hand over her mouth as if stopping the words would stop the thought, the emotion. “Oh God, I fell in love with a weekend fling.” “What are you going to do about it?” “What do you mean? There’s nothing to do.” “You can call him, email him, book another flight.” 146

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Kat shook her head. “That was a good idea two months ago, when my brain was still fried from all the fantastic sex. It’s not now.” “Why not?” Gina wondered. Kat picked up the frame. “I had copies of all our photos printed up and mailed them to the restaurant. He was so insistent about getting the photos that it was almost the first thing I did when I got home.” She put the picture frame down. “I didn’t get a response. It’s been more than two months, and I haven’t heard from him. Obviously I’m the only one who let the magic of Miami Beach get to her.” Gina straightened. “Did you put your return address on the envelope?” “Of course I did.” “Which address?” Kat just stared at Gina. “What do you mean, which address? I used the business address—dammit!” “The business address that had a fire,” Gina reminded her. “The address you’re still having trouble getting mail forwarded from.” “See, maybe that’s a sign,” Kat said thickly. “I thought it was a stupid fire drill, so I didn’t take my cell phone or my laptop when the alarm went off. I should take the divine hint that we weren’t meant for more, and just get on with my life.” “You really think he wasn’t into you?” “Maybe he was into the novelty,” Kat said, her throat tight. “Two strangers hooking up for a weekend. Maybe he does it a lot and maybe he doesn’t, but it was silly of me to think that we could have made something out of it.” Gina clicked the edge of the frame with a manicured nail. “Kat, look at that picture. Really look. Can you honestly tell me there was no connection, no possibility of more?” “Fine. Fine. I’ll try again. I’ll call the restaurant.” “Now.” Gina pushed the desk phone towards her. “I’ll even Google the restaurant’s info for you.” Not two minutes later, Kat nervously punched the numbers for Bella Luna on Lincoln Avenue in Miami Beach. Someone picked up almost immediately. “Buon giorno, and thank you for calling Bella Luna. How may I help 147

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you?” “Hi, may I speak with Pietro Filipini, please?” “Oh, I’m sorry he’s not here.” “Oh.” Kat darted a look at Gina. “Well, do you know when he’ll be in?” “I’m sorry, he’s in Sicily for several more weeks. Would you like to speak to Mauricio?” “Ah—no, no. Thanks for your time.” Kat quickly disconnected. “What happened?” Gina asked anxiously, staring into Kat’s face. “Is something wrong with Pietro?” “No. At least, I don’t think so.” She put her head in her hands. “He’s in Sicily.” “For how long?” “The guy on the phone said weeks.” Kat sighed, struggling not to cry. “Is it okay for me to give up now?” “Kat…” “Gina, come on. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore. It’ll be a good memory to bring up down the road, or maybe for another girlfriends trip. Right now, though, I just want to put it out of my mind. Okay?” “I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t try to convince you you’re making a mistake, but I’m enough of a friend not to push you. So let’s go.” “Go where?” “If there’s ever a time that calls for the three B’s, this is it.” Kat frowned to fight back the threat of tears. “Three B’s? Why does that sound familiar?” “Booze, boo-hoo movies, and buffalo wings. You prescribed them when David and I filed for divorce. You said I could blame my snotty nose on the Hellhound hot wings, and it worked.” “I remember now.” Gina had certainly gotten a lot out of her system that night, Kat recalled. “We do this, and we never speak of it again.” “That’s the best part about the Three B’s. By the time they’re done with you, you don’t want to remember what happened. What do you say?” “I say it’s happy hour somewhere.” 148

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Chapter Six Kat dialed her friend’s number. “Hey Gina.” “Hey girl, what’s going on?” “A new restaurant’s opened in Roswell. Looks like it’s Mediterranean, heavy on the Sicilian. Wanna go with me?” “Do they have that fantastic bread like the place down in Miami?” Kat took a deep breath. Six months later, and she still couldn’t think about South Beach without feeling a twinge. “No idea,” she managed to say evenly. “If they don’t, that can be one point against them when I write up my review. You game?” “Why not? But if I overeat, you’re running through Piedmont Park with me.” “Girl, please. The only thing I run for is the clearance event at Pier One.” “You ain’t lying there. What day do you want to go?” “There’s no time like the present. How about tonight?” “Sure. You know I don’t refuse food.” “Of course I know. It’s why you have to run through Piedmont Park. Make sure to wear the comfy pants” After disconnecting with Gina, Kat went online to find driving directions to the restaurant. She didn’t like to research the restaurants before dining there, preferring to give an unbiased, fresh review to her impressions of the décor and menu. Giving an unbiased review of the new restaurant would go a long way to finally putting the South Beach escapade in the past where it belonged. She loved Italian food, and it would be ridiculous to not satisfy her palate just because she’d gotten her heart broken on Lincoln Avenue. “Katerina’s huh?” Gina remarked as they walked up to the terracotta entrance. “Think you can get a discount for having the same name as the restaurant?” “Welcome to Katerina’s,” the hostess greeted them. “As a matter of fact, as part of our grand opening celebration, anyone whose name is some variation of Katerina gets a free entrée with the purchase of one of equal or greater value.” 150

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“That’s one way to drive traffic,” Gina murmured. “True enough.” The effervescent hostess led them through a packed house to a table for two. “Louis will be your server, and he can give you more information. Enjoy your meal.” Kat surveyed the restaurant, taking in the upscale décor, the intimate lighting that seemed like a thousand candles floating overhead. “Welcome to Katerina’s,” their waiter said as he filled their water glasses. “Did Manda tell you about our special?” “Yes, she did,” Gina piped up. “And my friend’s name just happens to be Katherine. She actually used to be called Katerina all the time when we were down in Miami.” “Excellent. Here’s our regular menu and a list of chef ’s specials for tonight. Our chef is from Sicily, and we start our patrons with a serving of our artisan bread made from a recipe handed down through his family for generations. What would you like to drink?” Gina drove, so Kat ordered a glass of Chablis to start. “They certainly get points for service,” she remarked, “but then, it’s still grand opening. We’ll have to come back in a couple of weeks when the newness has faded.” “We’ll have to come back anyway,” Gina whispered. “I think the server’s bringing the same bread we had before.” It was the same artisan bread. And the caprese was just as perfectly flavorful as the South Beach version. By the time the entrée arrived, Kat was in trouble. “Hey,” Gina tapped her shoulder. “Is something wrong with you meal? You should send it back and get something else.” “No, it’s delicious,” Kat answered, her throat tight. “Are you sure? You look a little green about the gills.” “I’m fine. The entrée’s fine.” She swallowed. “I just, I haven’t had Italian since South Beach, that’s all. This place, this food, it’s bringing it all back.” “Oh, Kat.” Gina reached out, squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry.” “I should have tried harder,” she whispered, her throat tight. “I should have tried harder to reach him.” “You can still try,” Gina said soothingly. “It starts with a phone call.” “You’re right,” Kat hiccupped. “I mean, there’s no harm in calling just 151

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to say hi. Maybe his brother will give me some information.” “Networking is important.” “And if he wants to see me, Miami’s not that far, is it?” “Just a short trip by plane,” Gina agreed. “Ladies, may I present our signature dessert?” Kat frowned at the nice young man. “We didn’t order dessert yet.” “Compliments of the house.” The waiter placed the dessert plate in front of her. Kat took one glance at the dessert, then jumped to her feet. “Where is he?” “Who, signorina?” “The chef, the owner, whomever is responsible for that!” Her hand shook as she pointed to the very decadent, very memorable Chocolate Vesuvius. “Where is he?” “Is there a problem, signorina?” Kat froze as the voice spoke just behind her. She stared at Gina, who looked just as surprised. As if in a dream, she slowly turned around. Don’t be a dream, don’t be a dream, she breathed to herself. It wasn’t a dream. Pietro stood in front of her, dressed in a dark suit and pale blue dress shirt. “Pietro.” “Bella Katerina.” He spread his arms. She fell into them, hugging him tight. “How? When--? I called Bella Luna, but they told me you were in Sicily!” “I was. I met with some of our suppliers to make sure they would be able to accommodate our new restaurant, and to hire a chef. It had to be phenomenal, since it’s named for a phenomenal woman.” “Oh my God, you named your restaurant after me?” “But of course. I did this for you.” She gaped up at him, dumbfounded. “You did?” “Si. I took a risk not telling you, I know, but I wanted it to be a surprise.” “It’s definitely that.” She looked away from him. “I sent the pictures, but when I didn’t hear from you, I thought—” “I know, Katerina, and I’m sorry.” His thumb brushed her cheek 152

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as regret filled his eyes. “I got the letter about a month after you sent it. I actually flew up here to see you, but your building was under construction.” “There was a fire. I lost my laptop and PDA with all my contact info, and when I got up the courage to call the restaurant, they told me you were in Sicily.” She choked. “I gave up. I’m sorry, I gave up.” “It’s all right, Bella,” he whispered, brushing her tears away. “And you can see, I took your advice. Business has been great, but with a name like Katerina’s, it doesn’t dare be anything else.” She buried her nose into his neck, breathing in his scent, the spice of his cologne. “I can’t believe you’re here.” “And I can’t believe it took the dessert for you to realize I was here,” he said against her hair. “You had me at the bread,” Gina piped up. “Shut up, Gina,” Kat said pleasantly, then pulled back from Pietro. “The bread, the wine, the caprese, all brought back memories, good memories that made me realize how much I missed you. By the time the entrée arrived, I was miserable.” He smiled. “Does that mean I won’t get a favorable review?” “How can I review my man’s restaurant? People will cry favoritism.” His arms tightened around her waist, his expression possessive, hungry. “Am I? Am I your man?” She laughed up at him. “You named a restaurant after me. I damn well better make you my man.” “I’m glad you see it that way. Especially after I’ve gone through all this trouble to prove to you that I love you.” Her heart skidded to a stop in her chest. “You do?” “Of course. Ask any of my staff, who have all been waiting for the right Katerina to walk through the door since before we opened. My family in Sicily is waiting to hear that I’ve found you. They can’t wait to meet you, by the way.” “Oh, God. Did you tell them I was black?” “You still are, bella, and yes, they have seen our pictures. They think you’re beautiful.” Gina asked, “Are you going to ask her to marry you?” Pietro grinned. “Well, I was hoping to hear her say she loves me, 153

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first.” “I’ve spent the last six months trying to fall out of love with you,” Kat blustered. “We even had a booze, boo-hoo movie and buffalo wing intervention.” Pietro winced. “That sounds painful.” “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Gina said. “But it didn’t work.” “It didn’t?” Kat shook her head. “No, it didn’t. I’m still in love with you. And after all this, I’m going to propose. There’s no way in hell that I’m going to let these other Katerinas think they have a chance.” Pietro frowned. “And I had another Chocolate Vesuvius ready for a to-go bag just in case I needed to convince you more. But if we don’t need it—” Kat turned to the waiter. “Check, please.”

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Raquel Taylor

Chapter One Destrehan, Louisiana “You’re safe now,” the angel whispered and Brett Romano wanted to believe her. Still, the nightmare visions came, along with the sights and the smells of the bayou and the burning husk of the plane. Blackness clouded his vision, a cloying and absolute darkness that burned and threatened to kill. He heard screams in the distance, the high terrified wails of the dead and the dying. He also felt a cooling hand on his brow, and the soft words repeated. “You’re safe now, Brett.” “Who are you?” he heard himself whisper. “I am a friend. I want to help you. I need you to wake up now, okay? Brett, wake up.” His mind locked on the soft voice as he desperately tried to distinguish it from amongst the voices of his friends and associates. He did not know this person; he was not familiar with the sultry tone of her voice. She was a stranger, and yet, her hands moved over his face like she knew him— each gentle stroke across his brow bringing comfort even as he spiraled deeper into the darkness. He fought to cling onto her, to strive toward the light her voice promised. But the darkness had him and it refused to let him go. Sucked into the nightmare, the stink of smoke intensified and became the totality of his world. He could hear the mean crackle of the flames all around him; feel the intense heat of burning metal. He shifted consciousness until he was enveloped by the terror-dream. He moved out of oblivion like a drowning man swimming toward the surface of a pool. The symphony of screams spiraled to an eerie crescendo all around him. Along with the screams, he heard the sound of ripping metal and the hungry roar of the fire. Acrid smoke and the stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils. He could barely breathe, but that was not his utmost concern as his mind tried to wrap around what was happening. Where’s Sara, he wondered, blearily. Where’s my sister? He opened his eyes and the thick, black smoke obscured his vision. Panic gripped him. He checked the seat next to him as he fumbled with his seatbelt. Where the hell was Sara? The scream, singular and horrified, turned his head in time to see her 157

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disappear out the jagged, gaping hole where the airplane’s window used to be. Her feet kicked a frantic tattoo on the thin and ragged metal of what was left of the airplane’s wall. He finally got his seatbelt off and pulled himself to his feet. Thank God they got her out, he thought and stumbled toward the opening. His lungs begged for the air promised beyond it. Crouching, he leaped to the ground. As he stood, he spotted what could only be a walking nightmare. The man was big, his body bulky and misshapen. One eye sat grotesquely high, nearly on top of the other one. Those terrible eyes, jittering unnaturally on the grotesque mockery of a face, were watching him. “What the fuck?” The words were torn from him in shock and horror. “One left,” the creature-man said through chipped teeth. “I suppose we have to kill him,” came a low, snarling reply from behind Brett. He turned his head and saw another deformed creature. That creature was holding Sara tightly, choking her.. A hand rolled cigarette dangled from his twisted lips. “Brother didn’t say nothing about killin’ anybody.” “What do you think he’d want us to do? Look at her. She’s perfect. Fell outta the sky like a gift from Heaven. She’s mine. Kill him.” Sara wailed. The terror in her voice sent Brett into overdrive and his survival instinct kicked in for the both of them. He leaped at the man holding Sara. Before he reached her, he heard a wild roar as the bald one came at him. He prepared for his charging opponent. In the breathless second before impact, he grabbed the man’s beefy arm and twisted it hard. The attacker yelped as bone snapped. Brett didn’t let the arm go as the man dropped to his knees screaming. The man struck out at him with his free arm and missed. “Let her go,” Brett snarled at the other man. Jittering blue eyes met his. The man holding Sara spat his cigarette out and tightened his hold on Sara’s throat until her face turned red and she was gagging. Brett fought not to panic. “Let. Her. Go.” To punctuate his words, he twisted his attacker’s arm again and again; the resulting screams rang stereo-surround sound symphonic across the clearing. “You ain’t never going to get out of here, pretty boy,” the creature 158

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holding Sara hissed. “You got some real fancy tricks, I’ll give you that. They ain’t gonna save you though. You don’t know where you are. This is the bayou…and it’s ours.” Sara stopped struggling. Out of the corner of his eye Brett saw another shape loom up beside him. Pain exploded in the back of his head. The last thing he saw was the despair in his sister’s eyes as his world went black.

w “Wake up,” the angel whispered again. It was a command this time and left little room for anything less that obedience. His head hurt. He was tired. Sleep had offered him no respite. Brett’s eyes opened to the bright lights of a hospital room. The woman sitting on the bed beside him was holding his hand and stroking the flesh of his knuckles with a constant and comforting rhythm. She had the most beautiful pair of smoldering golden eyes he had ever seen. Those eyes captivated him, even as they widened slightly with the acknowledgement of his newly awakened state. She drew away from him. He missed her instantly, which was odd, since he didn’t know her. Still, the sensation of loss was real as she moved even further away to sit in the chair beside the bed. “Hi,” she said. Brett recognized the angel’s voice. He couldn’t stop looking at her, and for the moment, he let the beauty of her face become the focus of his world. With his thoughts centered on those exquisite planes and angles he didn’t have to deal with the pain in his heart that matched the dull throbbing in his head. It was a sweet escape and he knew it wouldn’t last long, so he reveled in it. Those arresting golden eyes were large, slightly slanted, and framed by inky black lashes. They watched him from beneath a set of sexy, arched raven eyebrows. Her skin was a flawless and smooth shade of cinnamon. He noted her drab brown uniform and the badge gleaming on her chest designating her an officer of the law. “Hi,” he managed to reply. The door to the room opened abruptly. Outside, he could hear the chaos of many people clamoring for attention. He heard the clicking sounds of cameras going off. An authoritative voice boomed over all the noise. “This is not a freak show people, a carnival or a media circus. The man inside this room is wounded and has just suffered a tragic loss along 159

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with hundreds of others that lost loved ones aboard flight 596. Where is your humanity? Leave him alone.” The door slammed blotting out the riotous din of the reporters. Sheriff Henri Cholmomdeley stalked across the small room. He wore an uneasy grin that did not reach his eyes. He carried a small black bag slung across his shoulder. “You’re awake. That’s good. Let me ask you a personal question, Mr. Romano. Is this the price you pay for celebrity? If you ask me, it’s not worth it. I’m tempted to have my deputies lock them all up, freedom of the press be damned! Vultures!” “Sara?” Brett asked. The uneasy grin on the sheriff ’s face faded. It was replaced with a look that bordered on compassion, but was really something else entirely, a much more detached emotion. Pity. Pity for the crazy man. “We have not found her body yet. It is only a matter of time.” Brett sat up in the bed. His headache increased. “You should be looking for her.” “We are looking for her, Mr. Romano,” the sheriff said softly. “Not her body,” Brett growled. “She’s alive.” The sheriff sighed. “I know you want to believe that. I can say that I can imagine how you feel, but I haven’t had the misfortune of losing someone close to me in such an…abrupt…way. Mr. Romano, you’re going to have to start dealing with the fact that your sister is not coming back… that boogey men did not take her from that plane and abscond with her. She died in the crash along with a lot of other people. Dr. Dubois talked with you. He’s a noted psychologist. What did he say about your monster men?” “Fuck him,” Brett ground out from between clenched teeth. “Survivor’s guilt, my ass. I know what I saw. I know what damn near caved my skull in.” “You hit your head in the crash, Mr. Romano. That is rational and believable. Did Dr. Dubois tell you that it took four men to hold you down when we found you? Did he tell you that you had to be doped into a coma in order to keep you from hurting the paramedics that were trying to help you and keep you from hurting yourself? Did he explain to you that you were raving about monsters, actual monsters, in the bayou, creatures with weird eyes and hunched backs and jaws filled with jagged, meat-rending 160

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teeth? Does that sound rational to you? Would you believe you?” “They were deformed,” Brett said. “They were men but they were deformed. They talked like men, walked like men, plotted murder and kidnapping like men.” “Right,” the sheriff said. “Two or three hideously deformed men just happened to be in the bayou when your plane crashed. They were working together in order to abduct your sister from said crash. Sounds like a movie plot to me Mr. Romano. In fact, it sounds like this movie…” The sheriff reached into the bag slung across his shoulder and began dropping DVD’s on the bed at Brett’s feet. He saw himself embossed on the glossy covers. “And this movie…and this movie…Action with a twist of the fantastical. That’s what you do, right? American cop in Japan battles kung-fu-ninja vampires, that sort of thing?” Brett’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’ve been making this up?” The sheriff shook his head. “No. I think your mind is making it up for you just like Dr. Dubois wrote in his report. The guilt’s got you. You made it out alive and Sara didn’t. Now, your mind’s telling you stories to deal with that. It is a natural defense mechanism and it happens to a lot of survivors of these kinds of tragedies. But you are going to have to start facing facts soon or there’ll be a rubber room with your name on the door, and those land sharks out there with cameras for hearts will really get a chance to feed. Has anybody done you the kindness of showing you a newspaper lately, or better yet, one of these shitty tabloids?” “Sheriff don’t,” the woman said. Those smoldering golden eyes lanced the other officer and there was rage in them. “What is wrong with you? He doesn’t need to see--” “Yes,” the sheriff said as the small tabloid newspaper fluttered down to join the DVD’s. “Deputy, I think he does.” Brett’s eyes locked on the headline. He and Sara were sprawled across the front page. MONSTERS IN THE LOUISIANA BAYOU, the headline read like it was a joke. Between his photo and that of his sister was another image in startling black and white. In that image a creature that looked like something from the Black Lagoon, carried a limp, dark-haired woman toward a murky tree-filled swamp. “Brett Romano has offered a 250,000 dollar reward for the capture of the creature(s)’ the headline finished. “This is a tabloid paper,” Brett said, staring at the grotesque mockery 161

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of a news story. “They twist everything, outright lie when they need to. This doesn’t prove that I’m crazy or a liar or that there aren’t people out there willing to help me find Sara.” The sheriff sighed deeply, a slight tinge of annoyance crept into his tone. “Mr. Romano, you may think I’m being cruel, but I am actually trying to help you deal with the death of your sister in a healthy way that keeps you as far away from the loony bin as possible. These people will put you there. They don’t care about you and they don’t care about Sara. They will feed into your delusions because what they do care about is making money from your tragedy. You appealed to them the other day and this is what they gave you. Due to your head injuries, you’ve got a few days left in the hospital before the doctors are willing to give you a clean bill of health. I’m going to send Dr. Dubois back to talk with you to try and help you cope. Until then, I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk to the press anymore. As a matter of fact, I insist that you don’t talk to the press anymore--” The door opened again, the wood hitting the wall hard. Another officer stood in the doorway as cameras flashed behind him. “Charlie got into it with one of the reporters, sheriff. There was a scuffle and Charlie’s arresting him. The media down there watching it are pissin’ a bitch about freedom of the press. Cameras are rollin’. It’s bad.” Brett barely noticed the new infringement; he was staring at the tabloid paper and trying to figure out what he was going to do about finding Sara. The sheriff was obviously not going to help him and every moment that he languished in the hospital, Sara was in the grip of those…things. A niggling measure of doubt slipped into his mind as he looked at the picture of the swamp creature. Was it possible that what Dr. Dubois said was true? Had guilt conjured monsters in his mind? “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Romano, I really am,” the sheriff said moving with purpose toward the door, “but you’ve brought chaos to my town and I’ll be very glad when you’re gone and things can get back to normal around here.” The door slammed behind the two officers, blotting out the pandemonium beyond it. “Can I get you something?” the bearer of the angel’s voice whispered. “Sure,” Brett said with amiability that he didn’t feel. “How about some 162

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cooperation from your hillbilly boss? Can you get that for me?” She shook her head. “Cholmomdeley seems to have his mind made up about this one. He’s not in a listening mood. He hasn’t been in a listening mood for awhile.” “I can honestly say I don’t give a damn about that man’s moods,” Brett growled. The pain in his head spiraled to a screaming peak. He reached out and touched the thick layer of bandages that covered the lump gingerly. “Can’t say I blame you,” the officer said softly. She leaned forward in the chair and pushed the call button on the side of his bed summoning the nurse. “You talk in your sleep. I want you to tell me something, Mr. Romano.” You called me Brett before, he thought. I liked it better. “What?” “In your dream you told the men to let Sara go. You said it twice. It’s not in any of the reports. What did they say to you?” “I’ve told this story again and again.” “You haven’t told it to me,” she said expectantly. “They said they were going to kill me. They said that Sara belonged to them. They said the bayou was theirs—“ Those golden eyes lit up and blazed with a power that rivaled the sun. “Theirs?” The nurse breezed into the room in a flurry of activity. The hall behind her was strangely devoid of cameras and people. “I am so sorry,” she breathed. “It’s just with all the press and the noise, I forgot. It’s well past time for your pain medication and the doctor wants you to take a sedative to keep those awful nightmares from interrupting your much needed rest…are you hurting much?” The officer stood up, moved closer to the bed and leaned down so that her mouth was by his ear. The heat of her body, her breaths, was mesmeric; the contact sending little spirals of pleasure radiating through him that quieted the pain in his head.  “The sheriff got rid of those nasty reporters for now. But they’ll be back,” the nurse continued until her voice faded from his mind the moment that the officer started talking again. “Cholmomdeley just wants this over with and his peaceful little town back quiet again,” the deputy whispered. “We don’t always get what we want. I don’t think you’re crazy, Mr. Romano. Don’t let anybody tell you 163

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that you are.” Her hand was by his thigh on the bed and he reached for it like it was a lifeline, felt the silk of her skin beneath his fingers for the barest instant before she tried to pull away. He grabbed her arm, pulled her down to sit beside him on the bed. He looked into those incredible golden eyes, searched their tawny depths desperately. “You believe me?” He wanted to hear her say it again. He couldn’t believe how good the words ‘I don’t think you’re crazy’ sounded, especially coming from the lips of an angel. “I believe you,” she whispered. “It’s time for your medication now, Mr. Romano,” the nurse said sternly. “Officer, I think you might want to leave. The pills work very fast once ingested and he needs his rest.” “Okay.” Brett refused to let her go. “I’ll take the pills, but only if you stay with me until I go to sleep.” Her eyes widened slightly at the request. “I can do that,” she said. The nurse clucked disapprovingly, but handed him the pills anyway. He swallowed them and the water behind them. The pills had an incredibly quick effect. The officer pried his hand away from her wrist gently and pressed him back amongst the pillows. Brett went willingly enough. The pills were a good idea. They kept the dreams away and allowed him to rest. Comforted by her warm touch and promise to stay with him he closed his eyes. His headache dissipated. He felt himself beginning to relax as the tension eased from his body. The noises from the hall seemed to dissolve as an unexpected peace surrounded him. He felt himself drifting into a serenity he hadn’t felt since the plane crash. He squeezed her hand softly. “You still there?” “Yes,” the angel whispered. “By the way, Angel, what’s your name?” “Aja,” she said. “That’s beautiful,” he smiled as he drifted off into a much needed, peaceful slumber. 164

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Chapter Two Deputy Sheriff Aja Simoneaux entered a nightclub called the Wicked Marseilles. Sensual jazz music filled the tiny establishment. She was meeting the only witness to a possible kidnapping. Necessity had been the inspiration for meeting him in a nightclub. She was on a self-imposed two-week leave from duty and needed a place away from prying eyes. The sheriff had made it quite clear that he wasn’t going to investigate the disappearance of the actress, Sara Romano. He had also made it clear that he didn’t want her investigating the case. I am a practical girl, a sensible girl, and an officer of the law, Aja thought. I know better than this. So what am I doing disobeying orders and meeting a witness in a nightclub? That was her common sense talking, the part of her that had allowed her to survive in a white male dominated department and rise to the office of deputy sheriff against all odds. She had not achieved all of this by taking stupid chances. And yet, here I am, putting everything I have achieved on the line for a hunch. But it was more than a hunch. After having met Brett Romano she didn’t believe the stories she had heard about him. He was a bereaved man, yes. He was a man hurting for the loss of a cherished family member, but not a crazy man. And if he wasn’t crazy then the pieces of the puzzle she’d been working on for nearly a year were starting to form a strange and disturbing picture. The low, beautiful sound of saxophone and piano intermingled tugging at the part of her that was made nervous by her latest decisions. The song being played had a calming effect, toying with her emotions. She could not remember the last time she had gone to such a place for the simple sake of going and just enjoying herself. She was all career, all the time, and it had benefited her greatly. The fact that she might be throwing all that away unnerved her. As the music swirled to a fevered pitch, Aja was surrounded by a crush of bodies moving to the sweet rhythm. Small, round tables lined the walls, leaving a place for dancing. She sidestepped dancing couples as she pushed her way gently through the crowd. 166

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Searching for Mr. Romano, she didn’t think it was possible for someone like him to go unnoticed even in a crowd. His movie star good looks were hard to miss. It was another reason for the clandestine meeting between them. The press was following Brett Romano like piranhas after a blood trail in the water. She didn’t want what transpired between them broadcasted on the evening news. She managed to work her way out of the crowd to the relative sanctuary of the table area. A harried looking waitress rushed past her to attend one of the few small groups of seated people. Two busty blondes obscured her view of the third occupant of that table. Aja’s analytical mind put together the puzzle of the blondes fawning desperation and she moved toward them. She didn’t see him until she was almost close enough to touch him. Brett Romano showed none of the vulnerability that encompassed him when she saw him last at the hospital three days ago. She had seen handsome beneath his pain, but not like this. He was utterly mesmerizing. It occurred to her in that moment that film didn’t do him justice. DVD’s failed to capture the sheer male beauty of the creature sitting before her. He was wearing an ebony blazer over a red silk shirt and black pants. That blazer oh, so obviously was having a hard time containing all the muscle beneath it. She tried to look everywhere but at his face, because she had never seen a man so ridiculously handsome in her entire life. It seemed to her that he had not been born, but carved by some higher pagan god with a wicked fondness for making weapons of seduction. His skin—still lightly tanned despite nearly a week in the hospital— shone in the nightclubs tawny lamplight. His hair lay on top of his head in a short mass of sable brown curls. His eyes were that same shade of deep and brooding brown. They were captivating. His aquiline nose had that Roman thing going on, and his lips were plain and simply kissable. His chin was strong and chiseled. In profile, he looked like a Greek painting she had seen some time ago in some book somewhere. This man had no right to be this fine, she thought. He turned and his dark gaze moved to her. She tried to remember how to breathe. His eyes lingered on her traveling from the tip of her stilettos, over her slinky little black dress, to the top of her head. “Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s rude to stare?” he asked. 167

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She bristled. “I wasn’t staring.” She had been staring. Fortunately, she had learned from various criminals that a lie was as good as the truth, if only she could get him to believe it. Heat flushed her face. In fact, it warmed every part of her body. He was taking great pleasure in looking at her. That was thrilling. What was not thrilling was that she could have sworn, somewhere in those deep, dark eyes, there was just a hint of anger. Anger mingled with relief. “Yes,” he said, “you were. Mouth hanging open and everything. Admit it.” She was going to do no such thing. He was playing with her and she was not in the mood to play. She thought that maybe his underlying anger had been the seed of this game. Irritation stirred inside her. What did he have to be angry with her for? “You have an appointment, Mr. Romano,” she reminded him. He stood up and grabbed her arm. The heat of the contact nearly turned her legs to warm butter, despite the fact that she desperately wanted to be mad at him for his little game. He dragged her into the crowd to the stunned disbelief of the ladies occupying the table. The bodies pressed in all around them and drove her closer to him. His arms encircled her. Her breasts were pressed against his chest. Fire. A dark heat spread suddenly between her thighs and the unexpected shock of it almost finished the meltdown that his first touch had started. She clung to him, her nails digging into the rock hard muscles of his triceps. “When I found the note stuck to my door this morning, I had no idea who would leave me something so…cryptic. You’re deputy sheriff A.J. Simoneaux? I expected a man.” “That sounds so…caveman…of you,” she replied. “My name is Aja Jacqueline Simoneaux, Mr. Romano. Are you going to hit me in the head with a club and drag me off in the bushes now?” “I might,” he said and she looked up at him, watched the little bit of anger melt from his gaze, leaving only the relief. “For not telling me who you were in the letter, for not simply signing it Aja.” He remembered her name. He pronounced it like he’d been saying it forever. It sounded wonderful coming from his lips. In the hospital, her goal had been to earn his trust in order to gage his sanity. All bandaged and broken, he had seemed so fragile within the sanctuary of the hospital’s 168

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cool white walls. She could not help the urge to care for and comfort him. Someone had to, the nurses were overwhelmed by the presence of the media, and he had seemed so alone to her. He did not seem fragile now—far from it. He was so much taller than her five foot three inch frame, his body hard and strong against hers. I might, he’d said. The low, sensual promise in those words was unmistakable. It sent an undeniably delicious shudder spiraling through her that hardened her nipples. She tried to take a step back from him and gather her senses. He refused to let her out of the tight circle of his arms. He slid his hand to the small of her back, his fingers weaving a trail through her long, curly black hair. “I want you to know that I hoped that it was you.” “What?” she asked. Her heart fluttered. She was amazed. She had read about such things in books, but it had never happened to her before. “I hoped that you left that note, that I’d see you again.” Her foolish heart fluttered again. “Oh,” she managed. “But I’d really like to know why you wrote it,” he finished. “How do you think you can help me?” She felt half hypnotized. She felt like a snake before the most magnificent charmer the world had to offer. She wasn’t even sure he was doing it on purpose, or if seduction was simply an integral part of his actor’s persona. It didn’t matter. She was being silly, and her treacherous fluttering heart was being a foolish mutineer. Of course she was attracted to this man—he was gorgeous. That’s all it was though, a basic, reasonable attraction. Heart be still, she commanded, and gathered her wits. He had asked a question. She got down to business. She was very good at that. “I’ve tagged four missing person’s cases in the last year,” she said. “Young women, all in their mid-twenties just upped and disappeared without a trace.” He frowned. “That’s terrible, but what does that have to do with me or Sara?” “This is a small town. Four young women disappearing in a year is unprecedented. My department has labeled these young women missing persons. That’s cold in a town that prides itself on community and family.” “You think the disappearances of these women is somehow connected 169

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to Sara’s abduction?” “Yes,” Aja said. “It was what you told me in the hospital, when you said that the men told you the bayou was theirs, that cemented it for me.” Excitement swirled in her breast. Voicing her suspicions to someone who was actually listening lent validity to them. She gazed into Brett’s eyes, saw Sheriff Cholmomdeley’s face as he told him that he was crazy, and wondered if she’d ever tell him that the sheriff, along with the rest of her department, looked at her in much the same way when she brought up the cases of the missing women of Destrehan and spoke of them as anything but runaways. Her next words came out in a rush. “I don’t know how much they’ve told you, but your plane went down near the town of Bayou Gauche. Bayou Gauche is sparsely populated. The wetlands around it go on for miles, most of it hard to reach. I think there’s a connection between the bayou, your sister’s abduction, and our missing women. Because your sister’s case is being treated just like the other four—like it didn’t happen.” “Because it didn’t,” Brett said bitterly. “According to your boss there is no valid reason to believe anything other than that Sara died in the crash. Apparently, the ravings of a madman do not merit his attention or his department’s manpower!” Aja couldn’t help but touch his face at the outburst, a gentle brush along the jaw. She didn’t like seeing the anger and hurt flare up in his eyes. It reminded her of the hospital, and though he was far from vulnerable now, the need to comfort him was the same. She couldn’t seem to help it. His gaze locked on hers, anger and hurt evaporating, replaced with something…else. He pulled her closer as the music swelled. His whole body leaned into hers as if in an effort to leave no part of her untouched. She gasped as she felt the heat of his cock swelling against the flat of her stomach. The evidence of his desire was startling. No. No. No. No. No. Witness, she reminded herself. Off limits. Do not touch. The bump of the nearby dancing couple was jarring. The man was obviously drunk, his giggling partner wiggling in his arms. He looked up at Brett. “Sorry,” he slurred, then did a double take of sudden recognition. “Heeey, aren’t you—?“ “Nope,” Brett said. 170

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Aja inclined her head toward the door. “Let’s get out of here so we can finish talking.” The hot sultry night met her as she stepped from within the nightclub. A block away, the tawny neon lights of Café Saint Louie winked like a beacon. The rest of the street was dark. “Let me buy you dinner,” he said. “That glittering thing up there looks pretty nice and there can’t be as many people. Everything I brought burned up in the crash, but I had my wallet on me and I can still manage to buy a beautiful woman dinner. In return, you can help me find a hotel in this backwater… oasis.” She smiled. He thought she was beautiful? They began walking toward the café’s amber light. “No, most people can’t afford to pay the café’s ridiculously high prices. Mr. Romano--” “Brett.” “Brett,” she said. The word rolled off her tongue. It tasted sweet on the night air. She didn’t miss a beat. “I’m going to begin searching for Sara first thing tomorrow. Sheriff Cholmomdeley doesn’t approve but I’m using my vacation time. I am going to expand the search area beyond the plane crash, something I suggested but was quickly shot down as pointless.” She watched him try to absorb what she was telling him. “What do you want me to do, Aja?” he asked after a few moments. “What I need from you is anything else you may remember beyond what is written in the reports. Also, I want you to walk the crash site with me. I want to know where they stood exactly. I want to know where Sara was. I want to know what their dialect sounded like and what they said to you exactly. Then I’ll start my search of the swamp. If you want, you can stay at my place tonight. I have plenty of room and we can get a better start in the morning. This way, I can have you back in town early after we walk the site. It’ll cut down travel time and let me get to work.” “Yes,” he said, as the doors of the café loomed opened into a darkly lit room of quiet, intimate couples and low hanging velvet tapestries. A waiter seated them at a secluded candle-lit table. Brett watched her from the other side and the weight of his gaze was making her decidedly uncomfortable. “What do you mean you’re going to search the swamp?” he asked. She stared at him. He didn’t seem slow. “I mean I am going to go up there and hunt for your sister.” 171

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 is expression darkened. “By yourself? The department won’t assist H you in this, so you’re telling me that you’re going by yourself?” “Of course not, I’ve a knowledgeable guide who knows the bayou.” “What do I do while you’re searching?” “You’ll do what any good citizen does without the benefit of a badge. You’ll wait.” “No way,” he said. “Do you think I can let you go wandering around in the bayou alone knowing what’s out there?” And now he was hard of hearing. It was pretty cute…Pointless—but cute. “I won’t be alone,” she reminded him. “I’ll have one of the best trackers in the country with me. And I am one of the best shots in the parish myself. I am far from helpless, Brett. I can do this.” He reached across the table, took both of her hands in his. The contact was electrifying. He drew her forward. “It doesn’t have anything to do with your being helpless, Aja. I’ll never forget the comfort you brought to me at the hospital. I hope you’ll never know what it feels like to be patronized, knowing all the time that people think you’re crazy. My own agent wants me back in L.A. so that I can rest and accept that Sara is gone. Everyone seems to think that I’ve lost it. Everyone but you. Take me with you.” Breathe, she told herself. “Brett, you are a civilian. I am a trained officer of the law. It’s my job to risk my life. It would be a disservice to my oath as an officer to take you into the treacherous bayou to search for kidnappers.” She dropped her gaze from the earnest look in his dark brown eyes. He was so damnably handsome the good sense in her was in deep trouble and she knew it. When she looked up again he was leaning across the table, his face inches from hers. She gasped. “I am a black belt in karate,” he said, and his lips brushed hers, just a little, a sweltering butterfly kiss. She couldn’t move as her body responded to him. She actually thought she could feel each individual cell within her liquefy. “I do my own stunts,” he whispered and kissed her again, the press of his lips a little harder this time. Her whole body shuddered pleasantly. “I can take care of myself.” This time he stole her breath away. Her mouth opened of its own violation, as mutinous as her foolish fluttering 172

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heart. His tongue dominated hers in a slow, leisurely seduction that left her head reeling, her nails digging little furrows in the silken tablecloth, her body throbbing. She was lost and could only stare at him as he leaned back an inch or two. “Please,” he said. Oh, he is good, she thought. The waiter was standing there watching them. He held a little tray of water glasses in hand, menus in the other, and seemed to have no idea whether he should dare to interrupt them. His grip on her hands tightened. She could have sworn that he looked like he wanted to kiss her again. “All right, Brett,” she said, against every ounce of her better judgment. She needed him to sit back down so she could think beyond the heat of his presence, the fiery grip of his hands on hers. “Risk your fool life if you want.” He actually smiled. The glorious beauty of it lifted her up. His smile was exquisite, wondrous. It was like glittering diamond treasure buried beneath the ocean of sadness and confusion that had encompassed him since she’d met him, and she had been the cause of it. The waiter, suddenly emboldened, stepped forward with his tray and his menus. Aja grabbed one and busied herself with her dinner selection behind the sanctuary of its glossy veil. “I’m not eating any snails,” Brett said. “Not to impress you, not to impress anybody.” She laughed and realized that it had been a very long time since she had indulged in the luxury of laughter. He had brought laughter out of her so easily. She could still feel the heat of his kiss on her lips, her pulse refused to return to normal. Just get through dinner, girl, she told herself and concentrated on the menu selections.

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Chapter Three Aja pulled her black Ford Expedition into the driveway of her small, neat ranch style home. He made her nervous. Everything about him reminded her of sex—or more aptly, her yearlong drought. She had not expected to take him home with her. The invitation just popped out of her mouth. She stepped out of the car, her heels crunching in the carefully laid multi-colored stones that decorated the driveway. It was better not to think about his kiss. His kisses. She heard the passenger door slam behind her, and she flinched from the reality of the sound. She had brought the sexiest man she had ever seen home with her. Now, what was she supposed to do with him? She pushed the key into the lock and stepped out of her shoes at the same time. She stepped onto soft white carpet, sinking into the luxuriance with a relieved sigh. Her hand brushed the light switch, exposing a tidy living room, the walls a pale powder blue. She felt his presence in the doorway behind her, so close the heat of him seemed to want to envelope her. Aja moved away from that dangerous heat, one step and then another, before turning around. This man took her breath away. A moment passed and she realized that she was staring…again. Dammit, she thought, something needed to be said. He was standing in the doorway like a vampire waiting for an invitation. “Come in.” He grinned. The perfect lips revealing perfect white teeth. It should not have had the effect on her that it did. But the moment that amazing smile reached his eyes her heart did another dangerous flutter; a wicked twist that produced sensual cravings. Aja closed her eyes, took a deep breath and begged whatever gods happened to be listening for the return of her sanity. She heard the door close and she opened her eyes to see him placing his shoes on the floor next to hers. All right, she thought, staring down at a bent head full of tempting, touch-me sable curls. This is getting ridiculous. He’s only a man, even if he is…incredible. I am tired, and stressed out. “You okay?” Brett asked, concern in his dark eyes. “I’m fine,” she said. “Let me show you to the guest room. The kitchen 174

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is over there. Help yourself to anything you want.” She walked as she talked, moving out of the living room and down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms. She opened the door exposing the comfortable room within. “Thank you, Aja,” he said, leaning in the doorframe. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, the nails digging into the flesh of her palm. “No problem,” she said. “Goodnight, Brett.” “Night,” he replied. She crossed the hall to her own room and closed the door. Exhausted, she leaned against the thick mahogany door. With a deep sigh, she refused to allow herself to think about the gorgeous man across the hall. She undressed then and pulled on a long, white t-shirt. She left bra, panties and dress on the floor and slid into the comfort of her big bed. She allowed her mind to fantasize about him for a few moments before sleep would claim her. She imagined undoing the buttons on that crimson shirt, taking them one by one, going really slowly. She took her time, enjoying the game. She imagined the look of the tanned skin and hard muscled flesh underneath as the shirt slid off him. She achieved the last button leisurely and sighed as sleep took her.

w Aja awakened to the sound of a scream. She sat up straight in the bed, heart pounding in her chest. Her hand shot to the drawer on her night table. She took out her Glock and scrambled out of bed. She moved into the darkened hallway to his door. Another scream came from within. She released the gun’s safety. Her fingers rested cool against the trigger. She grasped the knob and opened the door. The night table lamp illuminated the room. Brett thrashed on the bed. Her imagination had done little justice to the hard muscled perfection of his body. His muscled chest led to a set of the single most incredibly defined abs. I bet I could bounce quarters off this man’s stomach for days and days. Her gaze moved down to his waist, the dip of his navel, and then greedily, unabashedly… lower. The tangled bed sheets prevented her from seeing anymore of his many obvious delights. There wasn’t anyone in the room trying to kill him. She lowered her weapon, relief flooding her. “Brett?” 175

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When he didn’t answer her she crossed the room. She moved to place the Glock on the nightstand near the bed and almost dropped it when he surged upwards from the grips of the terrible nightmare that held him. His eyes didn’t open even though he was sitting straight up in bed. Perspiration dripped on his brow. He was panting, his whole body shaking. Her heart went out to him. This man had just survived a plane crash and his sister being kidnapped. She climbed on the edge of the bed. “Brett, wake up.” She couldn’t help but touch him, wanting to comfort him. Much like in the hospital, there was something so vulnerable about him in the moment, as if he was begging to be touched. She leaned down and was enveloped in the scent of his skin. His clean spicy fragrance tangled with a hint of musk was a warm inviting scent and very masculine. Her hand lingered over one exposed nipple. Her desire to tease that exposed bit of flesh was nearly overwhelming. She bit down the terrible urge, letting her hand move upward instead, to a safer place. Her fingers slid along the smooth texture of his cheekbone. She marveled at the silken texture of his tanned skin, both soft and hard beneath her touch; the muscles in his jaw line flinching beneath the caress of her fingers. His eyelids fluttered open and she stopped breathing as those dark orbs locked onto hers. Her whole body zoomed inferno hot. She couldn’t breathe as his gaze slid over her face, examining her. It was not a leisurely study either, but a ferocious, desperate one. His gaze slid downward and everywhere it touched she felt like her skin was ablaze. Part of her wondered why her shirt wasn’t on fire. She found that she didn’t dare interrupt his heated inspection of her. What was he seeing when he looked at her? Did he truly find her beautiful? Should she care? His body shook. Her nipples hardened to painful points. She wanted him. Now. He leaned in and their mouths met. His lips were hot as they crushed down on hers. His tongue caressed the fullness of her lips. A soft, needy moan escaped her as their bodies touched. “Wait,” she breathed. He cut off any further objections as his hand jerked the t-shirt up exposing her thighs. Aja struggled for reason, but it was hard when she felt like her body pulsed with need. Her cunt throbbed as she felt his hands 176

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on her hips, kneading that exposed flesh and then pulling her closer. Her hand slid upward to grasp the silken curls on his head. Her fingers twisted in those dark locks, tugging him closer. She wanted him so bad. It was a shameless need. There was no sense in it. Every time her mind raised a reasonable objection, the hot taste of his tongue raking against hers sent her senses reeling. “Wait,” she whispered again. He pulled away from her, his dark eyes on hers. He couldn’t move away because she hadn’t released her grip on his hair. Letting go was beyond her. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you,” he said, frankly. His breaths were coming in hot pants. His hands were locked around her waist, the blunt nails grazing her flesh. “We can’t do this,” she said. You’re a witness. This doesn’t make any sense. I just met you. Even as those words ran through her mind, she felt lost. He was touching her like her knew her, like he had known her for years. Aja felt lightheaded and dizzy from his kiss, barely maintaining control. He looked down at her bared skin. His gaze roved over the inky black curls between her thighs. She watched him do this, fascinated. The intensity of his desire forced a warm liquid rush to her cunt. “I don’t see a chastity belt,” he said. She pulled his hair. His gaze returned to hers, those eyes much darker now with a desire that was very nearly rabid. “Run away now,” he said. It was both a warning and a challenge. There was an out. He had just offered it to her like a benefice from Heaven. She realized that she didn’t want his reprieve. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was run away from him. What she wanted to do was meet his challenge head on in the most wicked game of ‘chicken’ ever played. “I have handcuffs,” she said, daringly, tossing his challenge right back at him. He grinned. For the third time she thought his smile was the most beautiful and perfect thing in the world. “We won’t need them. Tonight anyway. I want you, Aja.” Even as he spoke he was gathering the edges of the t-shirt and moving it upwards. She was still as a statue, something breathless and marbleized. 177

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She was nervous and afraid and more excited than she had ever been. He pulled the shirt up over her breasts then over her head, the hot air of the room hit her, caressed her burning skin. “You’re going to have to let my hair go,” he said. “No,” she breathed. There was something so sensual about being watched like that, examined. His gaze flicked over her hardened nipples and it was like a physical touch and she bit down on her tongue to keep from moaning. “You’re beautiful,” he said after the several heated moments. She did pull his hair then, and he growled. It was a deep, primal sound. “Shouldn’t have done that,” he said. He was grinning again, but this time that grin was too wicked and dangerous to be considered beautiful. “Really?” she replied, innocently enough, her heart racing, wondering what he was going to do. “Really.” He grasped her thighs suddenly and jerked her forward, at the same time he moved back, making room for her. The sheet slid exposing his naked hips. With a breathless squeal, Aja lost her grip on his hair. He had pulled her completely onto the bed and then jerked her thighs apart. Before she could even think or consider a valid protest, he surged forward and pressed her backward. It was an odd position; her knees were underneath her and her head was hanging off the edge of the bed. “Bet you wish you had those handcuffs now,” he said, just as she thought about getting away from him. Hands on her legs, holding them in place, his breath stirred mid-thigh, and the heated, promising sensation riveted her to the spot. She felt the nip of his teeth on that sensitive flesh and then the swirl of his tongue. It was a confusing sensation, the gentle pain and then immediate spiraling pleasure. He did it again. And again. He moved upwards toward her throbbing cunt. Aja thought she just might go insane under his not-sotender ministrations. She actually thought about begging, but she wasn’t exactly sure what she’d be begging for. The caress of his hot tongue sent shudders rushing through her as she clutched the bed sheets, dragging them across the mattress. Her legs shook uncontrollably and when his hot tongue touched the pulsing heat of her clit, her mind seemed to explode in a white heat. She screamed. 178

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She felt the scrape of his teeth on the sensitive flesh of her cunt. The sensation was wild, inherent of a savage gentility that was utterly new to her. Her hands sought his hair. She had to get some kind of control back. Her fingers touched those silken locks just as those teeth nipped her clit. Her mind went blank. A desperate, passionate cry was torn from her lips just as he sucked her clit into his mouth. Pleasure ripped through her, driving her backwards and her body curved into a hard arch, her cunt driving into his face seeking more of his mouth. His hands slid from her thighs to grasp her ass and pull her even closer to him while he savaged her pussy with abandon. Her body bucked against his mouth. She didn’t care. His tongue found her molten nerve center deep inside her—an orgasmic hair trigger. The second that he hit it, her mind nearly went blank from the shock. He was licking deep and on the mark. G-spot, G-spot, G-spot, her mind screamed in acknowledgement. He had found it like he had a map to the damn thing. “Ohhhhmm…Oh my God,” she gasped. “What are you doing? Wha…?” Her body became a ticking time bomb of ecstasy. It was indescribably unfair. Aja lost control completely. The orgasm hit her hard, jerking her body and snatching away her breath. It spiraled through her mercilessly and her muscles locked with the sheer power of complete abandon swept through her. She was still twitching as his hands slid to grip her waist and he jerked her upward. They met in the middle, both on their knees as she slammed into the incredible hardness of his chest. Her legs felt like cooked spaghetti and she was panting like a dog as her arms wrapped around him for purchase, her fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Did you like that?” he asked like he couldn’t tell that she was shaking like a leaf. “I hated every minute of it,” she replied, obstinately, when she could draw enough breath to speak. She could feel the incredible heat of his erection burning against the flat of her stomach. His hands came around to cup her ass. “You are a terrible liar,” he said, and then his mouth was pressed against her throat and the electric shock of his kiss shot through her. Her 179

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body was already past insane and this new attention was just cruel. She loved it. It occurred to her to do the same, she was a sharing kind of girl like that. He stiffened in her arms as her mouth teased over the flesh of his jugular, his pulse skyrocketed beneath the pressure of her lips. She put just enough teeth into the kiss to make it interesting. She liked the way the shudder went through him in response. She raked her nails gently from the nape of his neck and across his shoulders. She moved back enough to draw them over the flesh of his flat male nipples. His breath left him in a hiss. Lovely. With one hand she continued to tease his nipple, but her other hand felt dangerous and exploratory, possessed. She allowed it to continue, sliding over the hard abdomen, stopping for a moment to delve into his navel and then downward still to the hot silken flesh of his cock. He was breathing hard as her fingers swirled around the velvet tip. Beneath her lips his pulse increased to maddened levels. “Aja.” His voice shook and it sounded like the beginnings of another one of his warnings. She wasn’t trying to hear it. She was beyond ready, her cunt wet, halfstarved and demanding satisfaction. She was too hot to stop, too hot to think. She repositioned her legs so that her thighs slid around his hips. Her hand left the teasing of his nipple and slid up his chest and around his shoulders so that she could pull herself up until her needy cunt was poised just above his throbbing cock. As she achieved this new positioning, she increased the pressure on all her points of attack. Her kisses were that much more demanding, her fingers on the tip of his dick had taken on a consistent, rhythmic jerk of the head. In a single motion she let his cock go and bit him hard. She wrapped both arms around his back as he surged upward and into her. She moaned as he filled her, his grip on her ass tightening as he pulled her down on his hard dick. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he pounded into her. She tasted herself on his lips and her world went mad as he bucked beneath her. He tried to suck her tongue out of her mouth, his fingers delved into the crack of her ass, brushing hard against her puckered flesh and setting off violent tremors in her rocking body. The second orgasm was wilder than the first; it came in hard and fast. She heard him cry out his own pleasure, as he made her completely his. 180

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Chapter Four Deputy Sheriff Aja Simoneaux. Problem. Brother had eliminated all others, but this one persisted. He was thinking, plotting, and always planning for the moment when he could free his family from their curse. The moment was at hand. The culmination of all their hopes and dreams lay before him. He would make them what they once were, strong and vibrant and the obtaining of the women was the very first step in a plan that would take years to come to true fruition. After all, the seed could be born like him. Ruined. As defected as the ‘monsters’ that stood around him, but with a more pleasing guise to hide the crippling defects. And nothing would change! He snarled and the sound was as monstrous as the faces of the men crowded around him. The women wept and whimpered. He did not feel sorry for them. They would understand and accept later. He had no doubt about that. Their fates had been taken out of their hands and blended with his. Save for the new one, only one of them even bothered to cry anymore. Brother understood that. The others had simply become resigned to their fates over time. They understood that they weren’t being offered such a bad deal…that it could be a thousand times worse so…very…easily. He stalked into the tiny room. When he was out in the bayou, he forgot his ‘other’ name. That person simply ceased to exist. He stood with four others in the crowded doorway. Four twisted monster faces looked at him with both fear and adoration. That was as it should be. They had every reason to worship him. He was going to solve their problem. Brother wore a black leather mask. He did it to terrify the women. He took pleasure in that. His gaze locked onto his newest acquisition, burned into her, as he snapped on the yellow bulb that brought light to the room. He hadn’t approved of taking her, but what was done was done, and now it was time to see if she was worth all the trouble she’d caused. She cringed as they came across the room to her. Brother’s piercing, intense gaze never left her and she whimpered under the weight of it. His lips, encapsulated behind the thick metal zipper of the mask, fell back so that the mask appeared to take on a hideous, terrifying grin. She moaned 182

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in fear. That was also as it should be. Fear kept people in line. “Welcome to the family, Miss Romano,” he said and extended his hand in greeting. “You’ve caused me a lot of nuisance. Made me make certain decisions, but looking at you now, it was worth it.” She stared at that extended hand like it was a tentacle. She recoiled from it. Brother’s eyes narrowed beneath the mask. “Take off your clothes.” She whimpered again. His hands grazed the sudden bulge that sprung to life with her utterance of that low terrified sound. “You see,” he said, “people have defects…even the most perfect of people. We cannot afford a defect in you. I want to see every freckle, every flaw in your perfection. My family deserves perfect wives to breed strong, healthy children without the unfortunate defects that have afflicted us. Once you have passed this simple test, we can go on with the wedding plans, and after that, the breeding. My brothers have been very patient with you women. They gratify themselves with the filthy, polluted cracked out whores I bring them regularly and haven’t touched you because they are so obedient, such good boys…they know that they must honor and respect their wives. Can you imagine how hard it was on them to have pussy so close and not touch it?” He was still stroking his cock. Her terrified gaze was riveted to the motion of his hand. She made no move to obey him. That was bad. For her. “Tsk,” Brother said. “I told you to move, you silly bitch. Hold her down!” They were on her en mass, grasping her arms to hold her thrashing body still. Her kicking legs were pried apart. Her clothing was ripped from her in huge, tattered shreds until she was naked. She screamed and screamed and screamed. Brother stood apart from it all and watched. His gaze defiled her. “Turn her over,” he snapped. She was flipped on her stomach. Her cries muffled as her head was pressed down into a filthy pillow. Brother took his time looking at her, searching for flaws. “She’ll do,” he said finally. “How long?” “I’ve got to get the blind preacher up from Thibodaux,” Brother 183

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replied thoughtfully. “We can do it tomorrow night.” “She’ll make fine children, won’t she, Brother…normal children without the birth defects that make us…different? You promised.” “Yeah,” Brother said. “Let’s get the hell out of here and let these gals sleep. After all, it’s their wedding night tomorrow, and I’ve got some loose ends I need to tie up.” He considered his little golden-eyed ‘loose end’. It was a shame. She was very pretty. Had he a need for a wife of his own, he would have taken her in a heartbeat. But he didn’t need a wife and never would.As he left, the room and the door to the women’s prison was locked behind him, he grabbed his cell phone from his back pocket. He dialed a familiar number and listened to it ring until the call was picked up. “You know what to do,” he told the person on the other end.

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Chapter Five They had driven the twenty-five minutes to the little town of Bayou Gauche and launched the motorboat from there. Brett gazed out at tall and imposing cypress trees and willows, their drooping boughs leaning inward like sentinels against the outside world. The water beneath the boat was dark, but not muddy. It teemed with a deep and vibrant life. An hour into the bayou, the world had lost all claim to civilization and he was suitably impressed by the sight of alligators on the open water, their long bodies moving alongside or just beyond the boat. The whirr of the motorboat’s engine was riotous and disturbing to the cloistered ecosystem around them. Birds took flight as they approached. A myriad of creatures of varying shapes and sizes scampered on the muddy banks and deeper into the flora and fauna that they called home. Their home seemed to stretch on forever and Brett felt like a complete outsider within it. Long gone were highways, service stations, cafés, and discount clothing chains. It was another world, wild, untamed and distinctly, almost eerily, beautiful. The guide, Anton Jeanerette, captained the vessel with the certainty of Ahab after the whale. Jeanerette turned to him revealing his yellow tobacco-stained teeth. “We’re close enough to the crash site to hike it the rest of the way,” he said. “Mosquitoes big enough for you, Big City?” He ignored the mosquitoes and the question, his mind traveling back to events that had occurred earlier this morning; events that made him dislike the man. Brett awoke to the sounds of a heated argument. His eyes slid open to the pale, gray light of dawn. He was in bed alone. He climbed from beneath the tangle of sheets that smelled of the inviting lilac scent he associated with her, and was immediately irritated by the fact that she was not there. Her voice, raised in hot debate, drew him to the bedroom window. She was standing against a white column on her porch wearing nothing but his red shirt. It was buttoned haphazardly, and ended mid thigh. It was a lovely sight, those supple brown thighs in contrast to the deep throbbing red. It 185

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made his dick instantly hard in the two seconds before his mind wrapped around what else was going on. A man leaned in on Aja, his body the force of the nearness of his presence pressing her back onto the column, though he did not physically touch her. He was tall and gangly, with rangy lanky muscle making up his big frame. He had a dusty hat pulled low over the fringes of his red-brown hair. His eyes devoured her with lust-filled appreciation as he pressed in even closer in an attempt to completely eliminate the space between them. “You don’t expect me to work for free now, do you, Miss Simoneaux?” he asked. “Since the Department refuses to foot the bill, I will pay you myself,” Aja replied. Brett was going to kill this asshole. Jeanerette grinned lecherously. “I am sure you would, Miss Simoneaux, but I only work these kind of jobs in an official capacity. My private time is extremely expensive. What could you possibly have to offer me that would make it worth my time?” Brett turned away from the window. He experienced a surge of rage that was almost shocking to him in its violent intensity. Along with it came a swell of jealousy so strong it was nearly alive. He pulled on his pants as he moved through the house. The front door slammed hard behind him and Jeanerette jerked up his head. Disbelief and the dawn of recognition crossed his face. Brett got the pleasure of watching Jeanerette’s eyes narrow as he took measure of him. It was a distinctly predatory assessment, the unmistakable physical weighing in of a potential opponent. Brett didn’t like it and he liked Jeanerette even less. “I’ll pay for it,” he practically growled. “Whatever your…time… costs.” Jeanerette turned to Aja. “You want me to take this fucking actor into the bayou?” he asked with unconcealed disgust. “You realize that this is not a movie set and that the swamp is filled with danger, Miss Simoneaux? He’s not going to be able to act his way out of an alligator’s jaws--!” “Shut up, Jeanerette,” Aja said with enough menace to snap the man’s mouth shut so hard his teeth clicked audibly. “Brett has offered to pay 186

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you whatever price you ask for you services. Cujo is the best tracker in the parish. I need her. This is a young woman’s life we’re dealing with here and I think that she is worth your precious free time. I am not Miss Simoneaux to you. I am Deputy Sheriff Simoneaux and I will arrest your happy ass for something right now. I’m sure you’ll make bail in no time, but I’ll arrest you again. And again. I bet that’ll be an infringement on you damn free time. I’ll make a point of seeing you a lot. Do we understand one another?” Brett watched Jeanerette’s face turn a mottled shade of red. His fists balled up at his sides. Brett found himself guessing the hunter’s thoughts. Touch her, fucker, and I’ll kill you. He took a step toward him. Jeanerette’s gaze snapped to his and obviously saw something in Brett’s approaching form that he liked even less than Aja’s threat. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll wait in the truck with Cujo while you people get…dressed.” He stormed off the porch and down the driveway to where a rickety silver pick-up truck was parked. Riding on high wheels, attached to the back of the truck via metal chains was an outboard motorboat. “That was unpleasant,” Aja said thoughtfully. “I’ve worked with Anton Jeanerette before. He isn’t usually so disagreeable.” Brett touched her, a gentle brush across her cheek that moved to cupping that side of her face. He found the feel of her skin underneath his palm as addictive as any drug. “Don’t start anything we don’t have time for,” she said. Her reaction to his touch belied the denial in her response. Her body seemed to respond to him all on its own. She fit herself to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Oh, he liked that. His hands slid around her tiny waist, pulling her even closer until her stomach pressed against his cock and he felt himself harden again in response. His hands slid down to grasp her generous backside. When did they start making officers of the law that looked like this? he wondered. Was it the one and only benefit to living in this backwoods hell of a town? He pulled her closer still as the music swelled. Her hand brushed across his chest. He liked her touch. Her full, gorgeous lips parted to show the perfect white teeth. The bold appraisal of her golden stare brought unchecked heat to his cock that was spreading like wildfire. She must have felt his cock stiffen against her because her expression 187

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changed, darkened to something wicked and irresistible. The urge to kiss her soft lips overwhelmed him. He had to taste the soft fullness of her gorgeous lips again. His whole body leaned into hers, in an effort to leave no part of her untouched. The sudden blare of the car horn separated them. Aja glared down the driveway at Jeanerette and then moved away from him completely to go back in the house. Brett thought about following her but became more interested in the driver of the silver pick-up. Was it jealousy that he sensed from Jeanerette? Whatever it was it was distinctly negative. Jeanerette definitely hadn’t expected Brett’s presence at Aja’s house. The tone in which he had spoken to her was damn disrespectful considering her position. The window to the guest room opened abruptly and his shirt hit him in the chest. “Fifteen minutes,” she said. “We need to get out on the bayou as soon as possible, cover as much ground as possible before nightfall. We need to get you something more suitable to wear.” The window slammed shut and she was gone. Brett slid into the shirt, noting that it smelled like her—like lilacs. While his mind basked in the pleasure of that scent, he watched Jeanerette. The man was having an intense conversation on his little black cell phone. He was practically roaring into it, snapping out words to whoever was on the other end with a vicious intensity. “Penny for those deep, dark, brooding thoughts,” Aja said from beside him, jerking him out the vivid memory. She had the bloodhound’s, Cujo’s, head cradled in her lap, stroking its tan and black fur. The dog stared up at her with big brown eyes that spoke volumes of sheer adoring love for the attention she was so carelessly bestowing upon it. Her curly raven locks were pulled back in a ponytail. She was dressed in jeans and a plain white long sleeved shirt, much the same as him. The point of such dress, down to the thick tan hiking boots, was to cover as much skin as possible to avoid the undue attention of as many biting insects—both the poisonous and the annoying—as possible. Unlike him, Aja had a semi-automatic shoved in the back of her pants, the butt of the gun inky black against the stark whiteness of the shirt. The cautious ghost of a smile lingered on her succulent lips, lending 188

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to the perfection of her high cheekbones. Concern for him radiated from her golden eyes. The boat bumped the muddy bank of the land, jarring them. Her body bumped into his. The contact, even through the barrier of clothing, was pleasantly electric. It radiated through him in a slow, sinuous wave. He forgot about the bayou in that moment, Jeanerette, the boat, and the alligators cruising alongside it. The lilac scented woman that had so haphazardly fallen into his arms became the totality of his focus. Both the beauty and compassion of her drew his arms around her tiny waist and pulled her closer on the tiny wooden boat bench. Her hands came up against his shirtfront, pushing him away in an effort that was decidedly halfhearted, and the heat of the struggle inspired him to further exploration of her. His mouth came down on her throat and she gasped, a little pleasure sound that was wondrously intense. “I was thinking,” he said, letting his mouth kiss-travel her delicious satin flesh to her ear, “that you were sitting entirely too far away just a moment ago. Don’t you like me, Aja?” Those golden eyes met his, her lips lingered inches away from his mouth. Arched eyebrows rose with decided wickedness over those incredibly sexy amber orbs. She laughed and the sound was deep, throaty, genuine and symphonic. He wanted more of it. “I like you just fine,” she purred.

w The sound of the gunshot brought Aja back to a reality that wasn’t throbbing with the heat of his presence. The alligator thrashed and then grew agonizing still to float belly up, a branching crimson spiral of blood tainted the dark waters all around its corpse. Jeanerette held the rifle in practiced hands, the nose of the thing still smoking from the shot. “You two make me sick,” the man said. The words were low, under his breath, but she heard them distinctly. What the hell? Since when did what she did become his business? She ignored his outburst for the moment, more concerned with the cold, creeping chill the sudden death of the alligator had brought her. “You didn’t have to kill it,” Aja growled as Cujo leapt off her lap. “Fucker got too close to the boat,” Jeanerette growled. She untangled herself from the sanctuary of Brett’s arms. Rage drove 189

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her across the boat until she was standing face to face with the guide as he slung one of the heavy packs of their supplies over his shoulder. “What the hell is wrong with you, Jeanerette?” she asked. He eyed her and she didn’t particularly like what she saw in the depths of his cold, blue eyes. She hadn’t liked his attitude since that morning, in fact. She heard Brett stand behind her, felt the heat of him and watched as Jeanerette’s gaze flicked to him. “Nothing’s wrong with me,” Jeanerette said. “That gator wasn’t afraid of people. I have just done a public fuckin’ service. We should be going now, Deputy Sheriff Simoneaux, unless you want to see grotesque acts of animal cannibalism performed right before your eyes.” Jeanerette drove the boat farther into the bank, mooring it on land, before cutting the engine. As the engine died, Aja heard the thrashing in the water behind her and simply refused to look back. Cujo bounded for the muddy bank and skittered off amongst the trees and foliage ahead of them. Aja felt her temper cool to bearable levels. Jeanerette was right. The alligators should not become too comfortable with man. However, a part of her was unnerved by the cruelty of his act. Something about the way he had carelessly slain the beast seemed threatening to her. She’d worked with Jeanerette on several occasions and they had always had an amicable business relationship. Still, she eyed his rifle and thought that he should not have it but she couldn’t think of a decent reason to disarm the man. “Don’t kill anything else that isn’t a direct threat, Jeanerette,” she said. “The swamp belongs to the animals. We are the invaders here, okay?” “Yes, ma’am. I’m going to tie off the boat now, if you don’t mind, Deputy Sheriff, then I’m going to go and find my dog,” he said with a yellow grin, legging his way over the side of the boat. He tied off the boat quickly before striding off into the woods after Cujo. “I don’t trust him,” Brett said darkly. His words brought disturbing reality to her fears. She was glad he was with her—glad she was not stuck with Anton alone. I’ve seen horror movies with less obvious villains,” he continued. “I think he’s dangerous. He didn’t expect to see me with you this morning. He called someone earlier. Aja, he was extremely pissed.” Brett stayed close to her and she was grateful for his strength. Grateful 190

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that she was not alone in the swamp with her gut telling her she was heading for trouble. Jeanerette’s involvement in the disappearances of four young women didn’t make sense despite Brett’s words and her gut feeling. The man was a trusted Department resource. He had ties to several agencies throughout the state. Cujo’s excellent tracking skills had been used in a number of high profile cases. She could still taste the stink of his breath as he leaned in on her earlier this morning. The disrespect he’d shown her still rankled. Had she not needed him so desperately, she would have been hard pressed not to shoot him in the ass. The word ‘conspiracy’ rang over and over in Aja’s mind. Everything in her clung to it as real and valid, as it had clung to it from the moment that the third young woman had disappeared. But who, besides Jeanerette, was in on the conspiracy? Who had Jeanerette called? And what had that person told him to do about a nosy deputy sheriff and Sara Romano’s equally inquisitive sibling? Nothing good. She looked up at Brett, into those magnificent brown eyes that she thought she could drown in forever. She had done the irresponsible thing by bringing him. His insistence on coming meant nothing. She simply lost her mind when in his presence. Still, the strange way Jeanerette was behaving made her feel better about bringing Brett along. Like her, Brett was smart and capable. Having him with her made her feel stronger and safe. Scanning the tree-lined shore, Aja moved for the police radio. She flicked the switch to the on position and was less than surprised when the radio failed to respond. The entire situation reeked of foul play. Raising a hand to cover her eyes from the sunlight, she searched the shore again. Anton Jeanerette was nowhere to be seen, confirming her suspicions that they were in a dangerous situation. “Brett,” she said, her skin fairly tingling with caution. “You should take this boat and go to Bayou Gauche. All you have to do is follow the natural rush of the water. It will take you back the way we came. You should call Sheriff Henri Cholmomdeley when you get there. Immediately. Cholmomdeley would not help me find your sister, but he will have to come looking for me--” 191

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His hand snaked out and grabbed her arm. In his vice-like grip she actually thought he was going to shake her. He did not. Instead, he said, “You’re kidding, right? You couldn’t be idiotic enough to think that I would leave you and Sara out here--!” A bullet hit the boat. Wood cracked and shattered. Three more bullets tore into the vessel and it went down fast, sucking them down with it.

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Chapter Six Brett grabbed Aja’s arm and they scrambled up the muddy band toward the cover of a fringe of imposing cypress trees. She reached behind her and grabbed her Glock. “Anton! What the fuck are you doing?!” she yelled. “Are we having fun yet, Deputy Sheriff?!” Jeanerette called from within the trees. His voice seemed to be coming from everywhere. “I’m going to fuck you to death, you nosey little bitch! Always wanted to fuck you and you wouldn’t even look at me! You had your chance to stay at home and mind your own business! I planned out our whole two-week vacation, sweetheart! We’re going to have so much fun once I put a bullet into Hollywood!” Aja motioned for Brett to stay still, got on her knees and scrambled off into the foliage. Brett followed her immediately. She stopped. “Stay,” she said like he was a bad puppy. Then she leaned in and kissed him fiercely. It was quick and sweet and left him stunned. “He brought me up here to kill me,” she said. “If you hadn’t come, he wouldn’t have acted the strange way that he did. There wouldn’t have been any warning. I wish I had followed my first inclination and taken the son-of-a-bitch’s rifle from him when he shot the alligator.”  Brett watched the shudder go through her and he wasn’t sure if it was fear or rage that caused her to tremble in that moment. The urge to protect her was fierce within him. “Don’t blame yourself for this,” he said. “The man’s a trusted department liaison. How could you have suspected anything different?” “Because this time, it is different,” she replied, her gaze narrowing with resolve. “Jeanerette means to kill us. But not if I kill him first. You stay here. I’m going to try to get in closer and take him out. Don’t get yourself murdered, Brett. I’ll never forgive you.” She moved away from him, scrambling toward a dense line of trees. Using the cover there, she stood, the semi-automatic clenched in her hands. “Anton, what have you gotten yourself involved in?” she called. “Why are you doing this? Did you take those girls?” 193

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A bullet hit the tree so near Aja’s head, Brett almost had a heart attack. He knew that Jeanerette didn’t want to kill her…not yet anyway. The guide was toying with them. They were in his world. Brett reasoned that Jeanerette couldn’t watch both of them at the same time. While the guide’s attention was on Aja, Brett moved, stealthily, in the direction from where the bullet had come. Jeanerette laughed. “Brother took them girls.” “Are they still alive?” Aja asked. Jeanerette chuckled and there was no mirth in the sound. It was the sound of a madman, Brett thought. The noise was calculating and cold. “You little bitch,” he said. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused? You. And that other idiot taking movie-fuckin’-stars out of burning airplanes.” Brett was close. Jeanerette’s voice was so loud. He came to the floraladen fringe of a small clearing. Above him, the sky darkened ominously. The clear blue turning gray as dark clouds rolled in. The ground beneath him was damp, the fallen leaves coated with a thick, dark slime. Insects skittered in the thick mud all around him. He stopped. He listened. Where was the dog? he wondered. How was Jeanerette managing to keep Cujo quiet with bullets whizzing around? “Are they alive, Anton?” Aja repeated insistently. Brett waited. The intensity of the waiting stopped his breath, made him still and statue-like in the leaves, branches and grass. When the shooter spoke again, Brett’s head snapped in the direction of the voice so hard his neck throbbed with the intensity of his desperation to find him. “Alive and well, I imagine.” Jeanerette answered and Brett’s heart soared to hear the words. Sara’s alive! He felt a certain measure of peace he hadn’t felt outside of Aja’s arms. He saw the telltale flicker of sunlight on dark metal. He circled the trap of the clearing, stayed deep within the vegetation, his thoughts centered on the place where that metal had glinted and given away Jeanerette’s location. He closed in. “What does he want the girls for?” Aja yelled. Good, Brett thought, keep him talking, Angel, I’ll take care of the rest. “None of your damn business,” Jeanerette laughed. “Move again, Deputy-Sheriff-Aja-Simoneaux-To-Me and I’ll blow your right kneecap 194

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clean off. Granted, it’ll ugly you up some, but I can work with it.” Brett could see Jeanerette now. The man had his back pressed against the bark of a thick tree. The rifle was raised, the butt poised on his shoulder and pointed in Aja’s direction. He was leaning forward, looking into the scope. “Fuck you, asswipe,” she called back. “Have it your way, bitch,” Jeanerette said softly, resolutely. Rain fell in a sudden dark torrent from the darkened sky. As Brett watched, the man jerked back at the shoulder from the power of the rifle’s shot. Aja’s agonized scream echoed in the swamp. Rage filled Brett as he surged toward the man. His thoughts were dark, primal and destructive. He latched onto Jeanerette’s throat digging his fingers deep within the other man’s neck. He wanted blood. He bore Jeanerette to the ground. He was beyond thought as Jeanerette managed to turn around on the forest floor and face him. The other man’s eyes were bulging with agony. The rifle skittered from his hands. He punched Brett in the face repeatedly. Brett tasted his own blood, but didn’t feel the pain. His mind was a hollow echo of Aja’s agonized scream. Brett didn’t know that killing a man would be so satisfying. He reveled in it, increasing the pressure, watching Jeanerette’s eyes bulge until he thought they were going to pop out of the sockets. Good. Thunder clapped above and lightning streaked the sky. In a desperate move born of really wanting to live, Jeanerette managed to kick Brett in the gut. As Brett flew backward, Jeanerette lay in the dirt, gasping and clutching at his tortured neck. Brett recovered quickly from the blow and he was on his feet again seconds before his opponent could grab the rifle. The man’s hand grazed the rifle and Brett brought his foot down on his extended arm. Jeanerette howled in agony. Brett brought his foot down harder. Jeanerette clutched at Brett’s boot, trying to shove it off his arm. Brett leaned down more on the captured arm and then sprung suddenly upward, his whole body in motion. He released his hold on Jeanerette’s captured arm long enough to kick him full in the face with the other foot. Jeanerette’s head jerked back and his whole body crashed backward to meet the hard forest floor. He didn’t move. It wasn’t enough. Brett was 195

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actually glad when Jeanerette began to move again, was overjoyed with the man’s sudden scramble-crawl toward the clearing. Jeanerette broke through the foliage and into the clearing. Brett followed him. Jeanerette stumbled forward and Brett ran into him. They teetered and Brett’s feet slid out from under him. Jeanerette fell away and Brett tumbled down into a deep and sucking wetness. His body rebelled against the pull of whatever had him. It sucked at his flesh and clothes wrenching him down within its dark depths. The filthy substance in which he was mired filled his mouth, dragging him steadily down. “That’s right, motherfucker,” Jeanerette hissed. He spit broken yellow teeth from a bloody mouth. “You just keep right on struggling.” He got to his feet and limped back into the foliage. He returned a second later, the rifle cocked and aimed at Brett’s head. “Quicksand,” Jeanerette announced and cocked the rifle’s hammer. The shot was deafening. Jeanerette tumbled backward—a red flower blossoming on his shoulder. Brett saw Aja slide out of the tangle of trees moments before he was sucked down into the slime.

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Chapter Seven Lightning cast the sky in brilliant white as Aja watched as Brett went down in the quicksand. Jeanerette stumbled to his feet and tore off into the foliage. It amazed her in that moment how little she cared that he was getting away. She looked frantically for a way to help Brett. Her gaze fell on the abandoned rifle, and Jeanerette’s hiking pack tucked within the trees. She darted around the edges of the quicksand, her mind desperately calculating the time it took a human to drown. She dumped the pack’s contents on the ground. A rope spilled out and she almost wept to see it. Aja shoved her semi auto into the waistband of her jeans. She tied the rope to the nearest tree, fumbling the knot three times before she got it right. She tied the other end of the rope around her waist and prayed that it was long enough to reach him. She did not hesitate, though it occurred to her that Jeanerette could double back, undo the rope and finish them both. She hated kicking the rifle into the quagmire, but unwilling to leave it lying around. The fewer things available for Jeanerette to kill them with the better. She had brought Brett Romano into the bayou. He was her responsibility. She refused to think beyond her duty to the fact that her heart was like a lump in her chest at the thought of losing him. She jumped into the quicksand, thrashing, because she knew that to struggle was to go down faster. She fought with every ounce of her strength—arms and legs reaching out, stroking…searching. She went down fast, and for every moment that her body failed to connect with his in the darkness, she fought harder, daring the quicksand to take her, giving it what it wanted so that it would give her back what she wanted. Her hands grazed something solid. Flesh slid beneath her fingers. Aja grabbed onto him, making her body still in the quicksand. When she moved again it was with the slow, deliberate motions of a different fight…a fight for air and life for the both of them. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled herself up on the rope. Her strength wanted to fail her as she began the tenacious climb upward. The pull of the slime was incredibly strong. His added weight was an 197

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impediment that seemed nearly impossible to overcome. Her progress was tortuously slow and as her lungs threatened to explode in her chest. What were the chances that he was still alive? He certainly didn’t feel alive in her grasp. His body was heavy dead weight. Help me, she thought, please. He began to thrash. She almost lost her grip on him. She felt her fingers slipping on the rope and then his hands locked around like she was a lifeline. She got them to the surface and Aja took a deep breath. Beside her, Brett choked out the vile slime and gasped for breath. They clung to the rope, their bodies intertwined. Cujo’s frantic barking echoed beneath the torrents of rain and the tumultuous thunder. The dog darted around the edge of the quicksand. The rain was falling in sheets, as they fought their way to the edge of the quagmire. Land had never felt so good. Air had never tasted so sweet. Aja collapsed on the muddy ground. Brett hit the ground next to her. Cujo kept up the annoying barking until Aja grasped a stray piece of wood and chucked it in the general direction of the dog, who caught it. “Where were you,” she growled, “when we needed you? Huh?” “Smart dog,” Brett said. “Knows how to stay the hell out of trouble.” “We can use her,” Aja said. She pulled her Glock out of her pants and checked it. The weapon seemed okay. “That bastard’s bleeding,” she continued. “Cujo can track him.” Brett brushed his fingers against the buttons of her shirt. Even against the chill of the pouring rain his caress was electric and disarming. Her thoughts of Jeanerette stopped racing in her mind, replaced with the fact that they were still alive. The rush of relief, reminding her of how close she had come to dying. “I thought you were injured,” he said, softly. There was a tinge of accusation in his words. “I needed Jeanerette to believe that he had hit me,” she replied. “If I was less of a threat to him, I figured he would come out in the open.” Aja raised her gaze from his fingers playing with the front of her shirt. Instantly his dark brown eyes captured her gaze. Passion burned in his 198

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depths. Oh holy hell, she thought, now is not the time. But it was. The near primal, triumphant thing she saw in his gaze caused her breath to quicken and her nipples to harden. He undid that first button and her breath hitched in her throat. “Wait a minute, Brett--” she began, trying to cling to something sane and rational. His mouth came down on hers and she forgot the rest of the sentence. She knew in that moment that she had lost her mind, accepted the fact that this man made her crazy. It was an undeniable fact. She had been willing to die to keep him. He slid closer to her on the forest floor as the torrent of rain washed the remainders of the quicksand from them. Little sensors went off in her body as his palms grazed her breasts again. He worked the buttons of her shirt free and then jerked the material free of her jeans. The rain hit her bare flesh and his arms came around her and pulled her even closer until there was no space between them. She loved her own surrender to his touch, the way she could not seem to help herself. She adored the feel of his hardened cock riding against her thigh, her breasts smashed against his chest, the feel of his hard-muscled stomach against hers. She wanted him. She needed him. The stunning reality was almost frightening. His tongue dueled with hers while he worked the button of her jeans free. He slid his hand underneath her pants to the silk of her panties. He touched the scalding heat of her pussy. Her body bucked as two of his fingers slid deeper within her. She surrendered to the ecstasy.

w Having escaped death several times that day, Brett needed the comfort of her body. In the quicksand he had lost his hold on life. There had been nothing to hold on to until she grabbed him. He had recognized her touch instantly. Her body shook as he teased her pussy. He reveled in that. He broke away from the kiss to lean back just a little and watch her. Eyes closed, mouth open to the pouring rain, her moans joined the storm sounds. Her hips bucked against his hand, those golden eyes flickered open. “Don’t… stop,” she breathed. It was almost a demand and the words made his dick ache. With his free hand he undid the front clasp of her bra, baring her 199

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dark-tipped breasts. A set of rhythmic thunder clapped echoed as he took one dark nipple into his mouth. She arched into him, driving her thrashing hips into him. He could feel her panties getting wetter and wetter—the hot moisture slick around his fingers. He stretched her captured breast, the nipple trapped in the hard suction of his mouth. His teeth nipped at the swollen flesh. As he worked his fingers deeper inside her he tried to control himself and his straining cock. More than anything, he wanted to see her expression when she came for him. “I want…” she managed. He looked up from the succulent breast. Her golden eyes were locked on him. “Tell me, baby.” Her bottom lip was trapped in her teeth. “You want what, Aja?” His fingers took up a slower, less demanding rhythm within the hot silky pussy. She was suddenly silhouetted in white lightning, the rain beaded on her skin. Her soft raven curls were plastered to her head. She was ravishing. She was denying him. But she looked ravishing doing it. It was extremely frustrating. “That is not what you said before,” he reminded her. “I know,” she said. “Stop, Brett.” This time it was a command. Everything in him rebelled at it. Still, he stopped his stroking within her hot flesh and slid miserably away from her. He wasn’t sure how to feel as she rose up alongside him, her mouth grazing his, the firm softness of her lips taking him by surprise. Her breaths were coming in frantic pants as she kissed him. She was undoing the buttons on his shirt impatiently. He felt each one give and her fingers burning a hot trail along his cold flesh. Everywhere she touched him he grew hot. Her finger flicked across his right nipple, the pleasant shock of it caused him to gasp. His dick was rock hard and constricted in the fabric of his jeans, driving him crazy. Her honeyed tongue was relentless, the nip of her teeth utterly jarring. Her hand slid down his stomach, teased his navel for a moment and then cupped his cock through the wet material of his jeans. Her finger flicked over his nipple again and that sent a jolt straight to his hardened 200

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cock. “How do you like it?” she breathed into his mouth. He couldn’t talk, could barely breath, but the answer, could he have managed to give it, was, ‘just fucking fine’. Beneath the pouring rain the button of his jeans and the zipper gave to her questing fingers. She grasped his cock in her hot hands and he surged upwards at the searing all-consuming sensation. Her mouth left his as she pushed him down insistently until he lay flat on his back. “Don’t move,” she said. “Not yet.” When she was satisfied that he wasn’t going to move she slid on top of him. She didn’t release her hold on his cock to do it, but slipped her legs over him until she straddled his stomach, her arm behind her, her fingers gripping his dick. Her mouth came down on his nipple. He hissed at the contact. Her hand slid to the base of his cock and then moved upward in a slow, tortuous motion. She moved from base to tip over and over again, increasing the pressure in her grasp with each stroke. The dual sensations were beyond maddening. She moved back sliding her body along his and began to rain hot wet kisses down his chest. Each kiss a heated explosion of fire. The light rake of her nails followed the wicked trail her mouth blazed—skimming along his ribs and down his side. Her lips hovered over his navel, the heat of her breath the promise before her tongue delved into that place. His dick jerked in her hand in dizzying response to the unmitigated pleasure her actions caused. She chuckled and continued on in her journey. She wiggled her body down further, her hot cunt writhing over the wanting bulge of his dick. He closed his eyes in that moment and prayed for the strength to let her continue this slow torture. He was so hard now he didn’t think he could stand it much longer. His need to fuck her was becoming savage and uncontrollable. Her hands hooked in the waist of his jeans and he moved enough to allow her to draw his clothing down. He felt her warm breath on the tip of his dick and that was almost it for her. His hands clenched her waist as her hot tongue slid across the tip. She didn’t stop the slow, rhythmic jerking that was driving him closer to the brink of insanity. He felt the edges of her teeth around the head of his cock. 201

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Enough, he thought and reached for her, meaning to end this right now. Her lips locked around the head of his cock and she sucked him in. The feel of his dick being sucked into her mouth was earth shattering. The force of the suction made him feel lightheaded. When she began to move her mouth on him he bucked his hips and almost came then. He grabbed her and flipped her over onto the ground. “Not fair,” she protested, her golden eyes luminous in the wake of a thunderclap. He could read the lust on her beautiful face and knew that it was only a reflection of his own. “I wanted you to come,” she finished. “You first,” he told her. He jerked the jeans and panties off her in one smooth motion and then he was in between her thighs. With one quick, nearly brutal, thrust, he buried himself inside her. Her hips rose to meet him. Hot and tight, he was engulfed in velvet. He could feel the spasmodic jerking of the muscles within her as her internal muscles wrapped around him. He dragged her legs over his shoulders, spreading her wide so that he could go deeper. Their bodies locked in something primal as he pounded into her. Her hips fought to meet the intensity of his every piston thrust. Brett pushed inside her and she tried to swallow him whole. Her wild cries intermingled with the storm. When she came he watched her scream as her cunt spasmed around his dick with the power of her orgasm. The knowledge that he had brought her that much pleasure sent him careening into ecstasy right behind her.

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Chapter Eight Cujo had not wanted to come to them. It had taken a good half an hour of coaxing to get the hound close enough to be petted. Afterwards, Aja had rifled Jeanerette’s hiking pack and found one of his filthy shirts. She stuck the shirt under the dog’s nose in the hopes that Cujo could track him. They had started in the pouring rain. The rope that had saved them from the quicksand had been retrieved and wrapped loosely around the hound’s neck. Cujo had set out to do what Anton Jeanerette had so meticulously trained her to do—find missing people. They were swallowed by the dense forest as the rain dissipated. Cujo ran excitedly ahead, Jeanerette’s scent apparently very strong. The moon rose against the backdrop of a jet-black sky and Aja was graced with true darkness without the benefit of streetlights. It took some getting used to, stumbling around in the woods in the complete and total dark, the moon the only light to grace the eerie solitude of their surroundings. She was tired, her muscles ached, but she couldn’t stop. Thoughts of Brett’s ‘monster men’ plagued her. As did the identity of ‘Brother’. Who would have the power to make the entire sheriff ’s department look the other way as girl after girl went missing? Jeanerette’s words played on her mind. There were very few people who could turn an entire investigation. Fewer still who could make a movie star’s abduction insignificant. Jeanerette had been careful not to give away a hint of Brother’s real name. Even when he was sure he was going to kill them. Loyalty like that was certainly family-oriented, but she didn’t know Jeanerette well enough on a personal basis to even know if he had a brother. “Penny for your deep, dark brooding thoughts,” Brett said from beside her. She smiled at the familiarity of the words. “I’m trying to figure out who everybody’s brother is,” she replied, her seeking to whittle down the answer. Ahead of them, Cujo suddenly went insane with savage barking. The rope pulled taut and she almost lost her grip on it as it threatened to slide 203

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away from her. Beneath the barking another sound ate up the otherwise quiet night. It was a low bellow, decidedly feline. It was loud enough and strong enough and feral enough to cause the hairs on the back of her neck to stand straight on end. “Holy shit,” Brett said, “what the fuck is that?” Cujo pulled harder on the rope, thrashing against it several feet ahead of them, her small form eclipsed by a heavy drop of dense foliage and close knit trees. Aja reached for her gun and went after the dog. Whatever was happening ahead she needed Cujo if she ever hoped to find the missing women. She broke through the trees and found the dog. The alligator hissed at them. Its yellow eyes glistened in the moonlight. It stood next to the lifeless body of Anton Jeanerette. His throat was torn open, his blood looking very dark was congealing on the ground. Aja pulled Cujo back. Beyond the gator, the floor dropped away, dipped down into a little valley. Within the wide expanse of that wet, murky valley, Aja spied tiny amber light among the tall stand of trees. Her eyes narrowed with the sight of artificial light this deep in the bayou. It had to be a house. Pulling the snarling combative dog with her she moved back into the comforting warmth of Brett’s hard body. “I don’t want to shoot. There’s light down there. Where there’s light, there’s people,” she whispered as the gator stepped away from Jeanerette’s body. It’s eyes moved from human to dog, choosing its next victim. Brett’s body moved with hers, the heat of him never left her as they backed out of the clearing and away from the alligator and his meal. Aside from the noise, Aja was loath to shoot the creature. Her gaze fell on Anton Jeanerette’s corpse as the shelter of the trees closed around her and the alligator, and the corpse was eclipsed from her view. After all, the gator had saved her a bullet. The amber light grew as they moved closer and closer to it. Cujo was quiet. Aja was grateful. She didn’t want to let the dog go for fear that she would go to defend her dead owner. What she wanted even less than that was for Cujo to start barking now and alert whoever may be in shack to their presence. Be a good girl, Cujo, she prayed. 204

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Along with the shack there was a shed. A generator alongside the shed supplied a high, mechanical hum to the silence of the night. A rickety wooden boat stood moored in the waters to the right of the buildings. A man slept in that boat, a hat covering his head, his legs thrown casually over the side. “I’m going to go check around the back,” Brett said softly. He was moving before she got a chance to tell him no. With his departure she felt more alone than she had ever felt in her life. He was now a part she couldn’t live without. She could barely breathe in the face of the loss. She didn’t dare call him back, but she thought about following him. Something else captured her attention. She zeroed in on a brown jacket. Her mind froze. It was familiar to her because she had one just like it in her closet at home. The Destrehan Sheriff ’s office logo embedded on the shoulders practically screamed at her of conspiracy. Brother was a deputy. He had to be. But who in the department had the kind of power to halt an investigation? She could hear Sheriff Cholmomdeley’s voice in her mind as he told her how senseless her investigation was, how young women from small towns just ran away sometimes lured by the bright lights of the big city. She had wanted to believe him, wanted to dismiss her gut feeling. The puzzle pieces fit together to form an undeniable picture. Though Anton Jeanerette worked closely with Cholmomdeley, the sheriff had no family that she was aware of. He couldn’t be related to Anton. Her mind whirled with the implications of her dark thoughts. It was impossible, wasn’t it? Impossible that Cholmomdeley had given Anton Jeanerette leave to kill her? It could be any officer’s jacket, Aja, her mind warned. Maybe these animals stole it. She warred with the possibilities. The door to the shack opened almost causing her to jump out of her skin. A man stood in the light. His arm was in a makeshift cast. His facial deformities were astounding. His eyes were wrong, one higher than the other, the cleft in his lip so pronounced it seemed that he had a skull’s grin. There was a slight hunch to his back at the shoulder and it seemed that his clothes fit him all wrong, like there were more deformities underneath. Monster men, Aja thought, but how many of them were there? Brett had counted three. The one he had fought, the one holding his sister and 205

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the one that had almost killed him. However many of them that there were, she needed them all outside. How was she going to do that? She looked at Cujo. She knelt down. “Go girl,” she told the animal. She untied the rope, then pushed the dog. Cujo looked at her for a moment and then took off toward the shack. Her high keening bark echoed in the night, capturing the attention of the man on the porch as well as the one in the boat. He jerked up so fast that the hat fell from his bald head The man on the porch came down the stairs to meet the dog. “What the fuck?” he said, “Cujo?” More men poured from the house at the sound of the dog’s barking. Their faces were just as twisted as the others, pale monster masks in the moonlight. “What the hell, dog?” the hunchback said. “Where’s your dumbass master?” He reached for Cujo. “Anton?” Aja waited a heartbeat to see if anyone else came out of the shack. She trained her gun on the shack. “Don’t move,” she said. “Don’t even fucking breathe.” She thought they might scatter and she was fully prepared to shoot each one of them. She felt no qualms about it. They froze like grotesque ice sculptures in the hot forest and she used the gun like a pointer, forcing them to move closer together until they were a small crowd before her. “Where are the women you took?” “They’re in the shed,” a familiar voice said from the porch. Cholmomdeley had a standard department issue Mossberg 500 shotgun trained on her. “You were always a smart little bitch,” he said, “that’s why I liked you. That’s why I hesitated in killing you when you got too close. That’s why I denied the funds for your investigation, so that you’d stay your ass home! I see now I should have killed you right off. I can’t have you interrupting my family’s wedding plans…not after I just went through all the trouble of kidnapping the preacher. Put the gun down, Aja.” The monster masks faces grinned. “I’ll kill one of them no matter what,” she promised, forcing her voice to be calm, despite the frantic beat of her heart. She needed to make him talk to her while she figured out a way to save her ass. “What’s going on? What are you doing here, sheriff?” 206

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“My family fucking line,” Cholmomdeley said. “That’s what the fuck’s going on.” She heard the pump action of the shotgun. She fought the urge to close her eyes. With a savage snarl, Brett barreled into Cholmomdeley. The shotgun sounded in the night. The monster men ran in different directions as the two men battled on the porch. Aja’s reactions were purely instinctual. She dropped to her knees and fired at the fleeing forms. She aimed low. The bald one with the wisps for hair went down, shot in the thigh. The hunchback followed him, his knee shattering with the power of the gunshot. She hit the third man higher than she intended and couldn’t stop to wonder if she had killed him or not as she trained her gun on the fourth. The remaining man, smaller than the others, scurried into the dense foliage and was swallowed up by the forest. Aja moved toward the porch and the battle that was going on upon it. She leveled the revolver on both opponents. “It’s over,” she told Cholmomdeley. With one final punch that drove the sheriff to the ground, Brett moved away from him, murder in his dark eyes. “You don’t understand,” Cholmomdeley snarled. “When they delivered me as an infant into the arms of Marie Jeanerette, what remained of my family thought that I would be the one to carry on the Cholmomdeley line! I was their hope! The personification of all their dreams! I was perfect in a line so inbred that most of us died at birth! But I’m not perfect! I’m sterile. My brothers need wives to breed out the genetic abnormalities that have ruined us! You stupid bitch, you’ve ruined everything!” Brett kicked him in the face with a sudden, jaw-breaking viciousness. Cholmomdeley hit the porch hard, his body going limp. Brett moved away from her toward the shed. He threw his body against the ragged door. Wood gave way. A moment passed and Aja could hear joyous screaming and the heartfelt relieved weeping of several women from within.

w Aja awakened to the sound of the alarm clock. Her phone lay unplugged beside the bed. Between the department calls and the media, she hadn’t had a moment’s peace in the two days since rescuing the missing women. The Department wanted to promote her to sheriff, the media wanted to talk to her about the harrowing rescue of a movie star—and she was miserable—and late. Brett was leaving today. In fact, he was probably 207

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at the airport already since she had failed to show up as she’d promised and drive him and Sara there. She rushed out of bed and scrambled into her clothes, putting on anything. She looked down at her feet and noticed that her socks didn’t match; red and green, just like Christmas. At the same time she realized that it didn’t matter. He was leaving. The blaring clock she hadn’t bothered to turn off read 10:30. She was supposed to have picked them up at nine. The plane left at eleven. She hadn’t had a wink of sleep until she had fallen into despondent semi-coma at around 4 AM—sheer exhaustion doing what her heart and mind would not allow. She didn’t want him to go. But she couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing him again. She had to make it to the airport. Someone ringing the doorbell interrupted her frantic rush and set her in motion to answer it. If it’s more reporters, she thought, I’m just going to shoot them. She moved up the hall and into the living room, grabbed her car keys and threw open the door, prepared for anything but what she found there. Brett stood on her porch, brand new suitcases in his hands. He dropped them. Her heart did that crazy flutter thing again at the sight of him. She was used to it by now. Expected it. Loved it. “What are you doing here?” she asked. She didn’t know what she felt. Her mind wouldn’t lock on just one emotion, but ran the gamut from surprise to joy to confusion and back again. “Y-Your plane leaves in less than half an hour.” “I know,” he said. “I couldn’t leave. Where were you this morning, Aja?” I couldn’t leave. The words sounded almost musical they were so beautiful. “Didn’t you want to see me?” His dark eyes burned into hers. He took a step toward her, eliminating the space between them. His arms slid around her and she was enveloped in his warmth. The clean, pleasant scent of him filled her nostrils. I belong here in these arms, she thought. She didn’t even realize he was moving her backwards until she found her back pressed against the wall. Her body molded itself to his shamelessly, 208

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she couldn’t tell it anything, not that she was even trying. He took her hands and moved them over her head. He held her wrists in one hand, the other hand cupped her chin, raised her face so that she was forced to look at him. “What are you doing?” she breathed. “Waiting for an answer,” he replied. “Yes, Brett. I wanted to come. I wanted to see you.” He smiled. “Good. Then you’ll love this next part.” His hand left her face and slid down her neck and across her collarbone and then further still to tease the tip of one breast through her shirt. The peaking of the nipple was like a miniature explosion that rocketed through her body and made her weak in the knees. He leaned in on her until his mouth was by her ear. The heat of his breath against that sensitive flesh sent spiral after spiral through her, flooding her stomach with heat, and setting her cunt to throbbing. Her eyes closed as she let herself enjoy it. “I want you to come with me,” he whispered. Her eyes snapped open. “Are you crazy?” He chuckled. His teeth nipped her earlobe. “That depends entirely on who you ask.” “I can’t just up and leave with you, Brett.” His mouth found her throat. His tongue teased her pulse. His hand left her breast and blazed a hot trail down the flat of her stomach. “Why not?” His hand slid lower. He tapped her pussy with impatient fingers. “Because--” His mouth left her throat and he pressed himself even closer to her, giving her little room to breathe and none at all to think. “I can’t leave without you,” he said. His mouth fluttered over hers and came down in a light kiss; a simple butterfly whisper meeting of the lips that would have seemed harmless if anyone else had done it. Aja had a very good memory. She knew where this was going and it wasn’t fair. “You still have vacation time, Aja,” he reminded her and kissed her again. The press of his mouth was harder, slightly more demanding, just like in the restaurant when he had seduced her into taking him into bayou. The shudder took her, tiny tendrils of pleasure spreading throughout her 209

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body. Unfair, unfair, she thought, manipulative creature. “Who knows what will happen after that. Maybe you’ll come back. Maybe you won’t. Maybe I’ll come back here.” He stole her breath away. Her mouth opened as she returned his kiss and her heart fluttered like crazy. The domination of his tongue left her dizzy, reeling as she pressed in for more of him. Her hands fought his grip until he let her go and they could tangle in the silk of his hair. “Please,” he breathed into her mouth.

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Epilogue Los Angeles Six Months Later… Aja moved to the side of the vehicle. She was dressed in department issue blues. The dark waves of her hair slid from beneath the uniform’s cap and blew in the sultry summer wind. Her mind was on her job, but part of her was back in Louisiana where Sheriff Cholmomdeley had been convicted of murder and kidnapping. The remaining Cholmomdeley brother had been caught, and the whole family was locked up for a good long time. Destrehan still wanted her to be sheriff, even though they had long since promoted someone else to the position. She wasn’t going back. She didn’t want to. He didn’t want her to. She got closer to the driver’s side of the vehicle and grew nervous, remembering her job, how important it was to get it right. She leaned into the window and gazed at the incredibly handsome driver. “License and registration,” she said. Brett’s dark eyes locked onto hers. I love you, he mouthed. A perfect white smile slid across his gorgeous features and for a moment she was taken aback by the sheer beauty of him. Her cunt throbbed with heat in the tight uniform pants. Her nipples hardened beneath the solid blue shirt. Now, what the hell was she supposed to do again? She was hypnotized by that smile, utterly enraptured of it. She reached into the car window and touched his face, drew her hands along the back of his neck, her fingers playing in the dark curls of his hair. She drew him closer. She wanted to kiss that mouth. “Dammit,” he breathed. The recrimination in the word was a halfhearted best. He knew what he’d done, what those three little words did to her, how they made her feel. She watched the warm light of desire flicker in his gaze. Their mouths met and his hands reached for her, drawing her bodily through the lowered window and into the interior of the vehicle. Her world became a spiral of the taste and scent of him. “Cut!” the director called. “This is not in the fucking script! How many times are we going to have to do this people?!” 211

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“I think the man deserves an answer, Aja,” Brett said. Aja smiled, not sure of what he meant. He pulled the small case from his breast pocket, presenting it to her. She opened the case and her breath caught at the sight of the biggest most spectacular diamond ring she ever saw. “I love you, Angel,” he said. “I want you to be a permanent part of my life.” He took the ring out and slid it on her slender finger. “Aja Jacqueline Simoneaux, will you marry me?” “I love you, Brett.” “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he said and kissed her again. Outside the car, the set went wild with applause. “Well, we finally got it right,” the director said. “That’s a wrap!”

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213

Cowboy Cool By Simone Harlow

Simone Harlow

Chapter One “What do you know about country music?” Marvin Kennedy, Veronica’s father asked from behind the wide expanse of his Rhode Islandsized glass desk. He tapped one brown finger on the top of his desk, the sun catching the reflection on his gold ring. Veronica studied her father, resisting the urge to wrap her finger around one of her black spiral curls. Not a damned thing, she wanted to say, but wouldn’t because that was not the answer he wanted. “Other than the fact every country western singer seems to be named Billy Bob Junior, or Johnny Bob, or Bobby Bob and he’s broken hearted because his hound dawg ran off with his wife and his pick-up truck, not much.” That must not have been the answer he wanted either, she thought. The teak-colored skin between Marvin’s black eyebrows furrowed and the corner of his lip raised like a hackle. As CEO of Harvest Moon records, he was not a man who took rejection well. When Marvin Kennedy wanted something, he stalked it, shot it, and mounted it on his wall for all to see. Veronica wondered what he wanted now and what he expected her to do to help him get it. Please let her rein in her inner smart-ass until he wrote her a check for the charity ball. “You had better learn before you get to Nowhere, Texas.” “Texas?” She’d never been to Texas, nor had she ever really wanted to go. Texas had too much nature for her tastes. She was a Manhattan girl. “Why am I going to Nowhere, Texas?” “I’ve decided to start a country label.” Ambition gleamed in his eyes. Her eyebrow started twitching. Not a good sign. “Why?” “Haven’t you heard? Country music is cool.” “I had no idea.” And she could say without a doubt she didn’t care. “If you’d updated your CD collection to anything past Billie Holliday and Ella Fitzgerald, you might know these things. How do you expect to run this company when I retire if you don’t know what is happening beyond your bubble?” Veronica didn’t want to run Harvest Moon records. Frankly she didn’t think her father would ever give up the throne. He liked being a tyrant way too much to retire. “And this is why I’m going to Texas?” 215

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 e steepled his fingers together. “J. B. Devlin dropped his record H label. I want him.” Veronica might not know anything about country music, but even she had heard about J. B. Devlin. “Then go and get him.” Her father could coax anyone into anything. “Already tried,” Marvin said, “but I’m not getting any love from the man.” Well of all the nerve. Someone had the backbone to refuse Marvin Kennedy. Veronica had to write that in her diary. “Maybe he doesn’t think a rap label can take him to the next level.” The veins on her father forehead began to pop out. Call him a womanizing, baby’s daddy, dog hating, cheapskate and he’d agree with you, but question his ability to run his company and those were fighting words. “I want him and you’re going to get him.” “No.” She pressed her hands tight into her lap, seeing long slender fingers with scarlet tipped fingernails. Texas was dry. She would need a ton of moisturizer. She might skimp on many things but not her skin care. She’s go without food to keep her skin pristine. “Five million,” Marvin said. She glanced up. “What did you say?” “I’ll write your foundation a yearly check for five million dollar over the next five years if you get J. B. Devin’s signature on the dotted line.” Twenty-five million dollars. For a second, Veronica couldn’t breathe. That was a lot of money for the girls she sponsored at inner city schools. Computers, books, trips to museums and season tickets to the opera. Oh my God, she could pay for Trina to go to Yale and actually eat once in a while. Veronica’s hands started shaking. She could stop robbing Peter to pay Paul. Her trust fund was running dry. She could give her staff a raise. She could...suddenly she glared suspiciously at her father. “Why are you being so generous?” Generosity in her father was extinct like the dodo bird.  Marvin leaned forward and looked her straight in the eyes. “If it’s for your girls, you can get the last nickel out of a poor man’s pocket.” “Thank you...I think.” She squirmed in her chair. “I don’t do artist relations. That’s your job, what you’re best at.” “I got that country boy a date with three Victoria Secret’s models and 216

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he wasn’t even impressed. I threw enough money at him to pay off the debt of a third world country and he didn’t even breathe hard. I threw in stock options and all I got was a yawn. Little girl, today you’re my big gun. You get me that country boy and you get him now.” Marvin paused, his face taking on a sly expression. Veronica tilted her head. “I’m going to repeat this, twenty-five million dollars over the next five years for my foundation. No hemming, no hawing, no stalling.” An iron clad contract. He nodded. “I’ll tell you what.” He opened the side drawer of his desk and drew out a leather checkbook. “I’ll write a check for two point five million just for you to get on a plane tonight.” He uncapped his $12,000 fountain pen and held it poised over the check, his eyebrows raised waiting. “If I don’t succeed do I have to give the two point five million dollars back?” “This money is yours, regardless. But I know you’ll succeed. I have every confidence in you.” He smiled now that he’d gotten his way. Veronica examined her father wondering why he was so desperate. “Could I get that in writing?” “I have it right here,” he pushed a piece of paper toward her. He pushed the intercom button and said, “Mary, send in the notary.” Veronica watched as he wrote the check. Glancing at her watch, she should just be able to get to the bank and deposit the check. He torn out the check and slid it over to her and she counted all the pretty zeros and eyeballed the signature. Everything was so perfect, her palms began to sweat. “What are you waiting for?” Her father put the cap on his pen. Veronica slipped it in her purse. “Thank you, Daddy. I’ll call you from Texas.” Clutch my pearls I’ve hit the mother lode. I’m gonna put on my lucky shoes and get me a cowboy.

w J. B. Devlin leaned against the railing of his front porch, coffee cup in hand as he watched the afternoon sun. He spied a dust devil whirling up toward the blue cloudless, Texas sky. A flash of metal caught his attention and he shaded his eyes. A car had turned off the highway and was heading 217

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down the main ranch road. Hell, he wasn’t in the mood for company. Hopefully, whoever was in the car was simply a lost tourist and wouldn’t know him from Hank Williams. J. B. would be able to send them on their way before grabbing a quick lunch and a nap. He was still on concert tour time and hadn’t gotten used to country hours yet. Besides, he was bone tired after being up all night helping his prize quarter horse, Diamond Girl, deliver her first foal. He smothered another yawn and took a long sip of his coffee. All he wanted right now was some hot food and his big comfortable lonely bed. He pushed back his Stetson, ran a hand through shaggy blond hair that definitely needed a trip to the barber, and got a whiff of his underarm. He tried not to smell too deeply and thought about adding a shower to the list. He almost laughed at himself. There had been a time when good honest ranch sweat hadn’t bothered him. There had been a time when he’d been up long before the sun rose in the sky and was in bed before it went down. The time had come for him to get back to what was real in life instead of the make believe of the country music circuit. A black Escalade drove through the arched gate that framed the gravel road leading to the house. At times like this, he wished he had put up that security gate. Maybe he should have left the road all dirt and pot-holes, but he’d had gravel laid down to make the road easier to travel. Once his business got off the ground, trucks with horse trailers would need easy access to him. Eventually, he would pave the road, but that was in the future. The Escalade slowed to a stop. J. B. tried to see inside but the glass was tinted. He had a sense of movement and the door opened. One platform shoe lowered to the paved walkway. The shoe was dark turquoise with a pattern across the toes. Matching ribbon secured the shoe to the foot and wound its way up a very shapely chocolate colored ankle. A sharp yip echoed through the air and four fawn colored paws landed on the pavement to join that one lone foot. A little dog trotted a couple feet away from the car and immediately sat down. The other shoe hit the ground and a woman got out of the car. She stood, tall and curvy, and gazed directly at him. Big bug-eyed sunglass hid her eyes, but she had a full tempting mouth and the prettiest skin. She was well-dressed in capri pants that ended just below her knee and 218

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a white tailored shirt which gave him a respectable view of her cleavage. Just enough to say ‘hello boys, I’m a girl’ but nothing trailer park trashy. Her curly hair hung about her shoulders in a black cascade that seemed to caress her face. She was delectable. “Wow,” he murmured, his libido ready to shift into first gear. She smiled as if she heard him. “Hello.” And waved. He waved back trying to place her. Did he even know her? He would have never forgotten a smile that sweet from the women who’d hung around the stage door. Come to daddy, darlin’, he’d been a lonely man. A breeze meandered through her hair picking up the loose tendrils of glossy black curls exposing a long graceful neck. He was a sucker for a good neck and curly hair. “J. B. Devlin?” she asked in a low cultured voice that sent shivering waves of explosive desire up and down his spine. What would that voice sound like in the dark, in the bedroom. “That would be me.” He stepped forward. She walked with almost feline grace to the bottom step and gazed up at him. “Mr. Devlin, you are a hard man to find.” The dog followed and sat obediently next to her with just a small gesture from her hand. J. B. was impressed at the dog’s good behavior. His last girlfriend had a fluffy runt that yapped all the time and refused to obey the most basic of commands. He couldn’t abide an unruly dog. “Call me, J. B. because I’m impressed you found me.” He had deliberately bought this ranch because it was remote. She held out her hand. “How do you do, I’m Veronica Kennedy.” He reached down and took her long slender fingers in his. She had girly hands. Her skin was soft and he inhaled a fragrance that shifted his libido into second gear. This woman had never done a hard day’s work in her life. “Pleasure to meet you. How can I help you?” He held onto her hand and couldn’t seem to let go running a finger up and down the side of her thumb. “Well,” she said, her voice low and sexy, “I’d love to talk some business with you?” She glanced at her hand and she tugged her fingers away. “Sorry, I’m being possessive, aren’t I.” “That’s quite all right, darlin’, we’re friendly in Texas. What kind of 219

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business? Are you lookin’ to buy a horse?” She didn’t look like the horse type. Matter of fact, he’d bet the royalties from his last CD, she’d never been near a horse. Panic flashed on her face. “No horses. I don’t ride.” He was right. She was a city girl. Something clicked in his mind. “Kennedy? Are you related to Marvin Kennedy?” “That,” she said with a dramatic sigh, “would be my father.” Damn, just when he thought he was safe. She was one of those people–a record exec. He should have known. Normally he could spot one a mile away, but this one was hidden in a pretty package with a smile so genuine, so beguiling, and so seductive, he just wanted to fall in and take a swim. But the name Kennedy sobered him, his libido shifted into neutral.  A dozen different record companies had been dogging him for the last leg of his tour since he’d announced his retirement. Every single one thought he was unhappy with his label, or wanted more money, or wanted to be an actor or some crap like that. He wasn’t the Who, who’d already done their third farewell tour. His farewell tour was his farewell tour. He was done with the music business. He had enough money and he knew when the time was right to move on. But obviously the music business wasn’t done with him. “Then what can I help you with, ma’am?” She tilted her head. “Am I old enough to be a ma’am?” Hell no, he thought, fighting to keep his eyes on her sun glasses instead of her anatomy. “Just being respectful.” She took off her sun glasses revealing dark brown eyes that gave him a sharp, assessing look, and she hooked the glasses into the opening of her shirt. His eyes followed the movement and all he could think of was ‘lucky sunglasses.’ His thoughts skittered off into a million and one possibilities, then he jerked back. She was a record exec and he needed to keep that in mind because every one he knew was a shark and he doubted she was an exception. Just wrapped in a way too tempting package. “Well,” she said, “if possible, I’d love to take you out for lunch or dinner.” “Business always ruins a good meal. We can talk here.” She pouted. “I was hoping for some down home cooking.” Well he supposed he could invite her in and give her some bar-b-que ribs Uncle Dew had in the fridge, but she didn’t seem like an eating-with220

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her-hands type. She looked like a debutante. Or a princess who could navigate a ten fork dinner without batting an eyelash much less make a mistake. “Come on in.” “May I bring my dog in? Matisse is well-behaved but he suffers from separation anxiety.” “Is that what that is?” She gave him a strained smile. “He’s a French Bulldog.” The dog was kinda cute with his smashed in face and stubby little legs. And with those big ears he looked like a good stiff breeze could send him air born. The dog might have been small, but his wasn’t a purse dog and she did let it walk on its own four legs. J.B. squatted down and held out a finger. “Hey there little fella.” The dog tentatively sniffed and then gave him a quick lick. “Bring him in.” The dog’s four paws tapped on the hardwood floor of the veranda.  “Well if we could have a minute or two alone. He’s needs a moment or two to ... freshen up.” What was the dog gonna do beside take a leak? Put on some lipstick? He found himself staring at Veronica Kennedy’s mouth again. She had the most kissable lips on this side of the world. Her lips were bare. She didn’t need any lipstick. Her lush full berry colored mouth was perfect just the way it were. And he’d like to spend about twenty five minutes kissing her, just to prove he was right. “No problem.” He pointed to a cluster of willow trees. “That should give him some privacy.” “Thank you.” She bent over giving him a Class A peep show and unhooked the dog’s leash. He couldn’t breathe. All the blood stopped as he prayed to God she would just pop out of her blouse and show him the road to heaven. He had been alone too long. He needed to get laid. “Umm” She stood up dangling the dog leash. “Yes?” J.B. rubbed the back of his hot neck. “Leave on the leash, there’s things around who might think he’s take-out on four legs.” “Oh.” She hooked the leash back on, which meant she had to bend again. His eyes rolled back in his head, he was going to need an extra cold shower. She walked off the veranda and headed to a clump of trees. She 221

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navigated the pavement gracefully on her platform shoes. When she hit the grass she was going to fall on her ass. He just knew it. Katya, his ex used to wear stupid shoes like that. They looked great and made for a hot time in bed, but how a woman could walk in them was beyond him. Behind him he heard boots on the hardwood. He turned to find his Uncle Dew pushing on the screen door and stepping out onto the porch. “Did I hear a car?” He squinted at Veronica. “Who’s that?” “Marvin Kennedy’s secret weapon.” Uncle Dew rolled back on his heels. “She don’t look like no record exec.” “All you can see is her butt. How can you tell?” “All them women executives have skinny little asses. Always walk like they’re agitated. I think, it’s ‘cause they don’t eat nothin’ but salads, and drink bottled water.” Uncle Dew pointed and crooked his finger at Veronica. “Now that there is a woman’s rump. A damn fine one if you ask me.” He didn’t ask, but his uncle was right, Veronica had a damned fine rump. J. B. figured she’d look great naked. He shifted his leg trying to alleviate the twitch that started in his cock. Then it occurred to him, he wanted to bed Ms. Veronica Kennedy. Damn he was randy. He hadn’t known the woman five minute and he was running naked scenarios in his head. And she was a record ex sent to buy his soul. “You hot, boy?” “What?” “You’re sweatin’.” Uncle Dew squirted at him. “You comin’ down with somethin’?” Yeah, Veronica fever. “I’m fine.” “Hmph.” He knew that hmph, Uncle Dew knew he was lying. Same as when he was a kid. Some things never change. “I’m fine.” A ear shattering scream rent the air.

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Chapter Two Veronica scraped her shoe on the grass trying to get the dog pooh off the bottom. The foul stench reached her nose and she let out a wail. Not her lucky shoes. Not her Diors. “Are you all right?” She looked up to see J. B. Devlin running toward her. Matisse was whining, feeling her distress. She pointed to her platform shoe. “I stepped in…in…in ...” He stopped short of running into her. “Its just a little dooh dooh.” Glaring at him, she swore he was trying not to laugh. “On my Diors.” “What’s the big deal? Dooh dooh will come off even if the shoes are Dior.” Oh my God. She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. “Dooh dooh and Dior should not be mentioned in the same sentence.” “They’re shoes.” Her lip started to quiver. “These were my mother’s shoes. And now they are ruined. They are over thirty years old.” She wanted to cry. She loved these shoes. They were more than just her lucky shoes. They were the first gift her dad had ever bought for her mother. These shoes had won her mother’s heart. And now they had dog pooh on them. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix them for you.” Tears tracked down her cheeks. “I know I’m being silly, but these shoes were supposed to get you for me.” He looked taken aback. “Huh.” She fanned her cheeks to dry the tears. “My lucky shoes. Every good thing in my life happened when I was wearing these shoes. You couldn’t resist me if I wore these shoes.” “Why did you think a pair of shoes would work, when nothing else has?” Jabbing a finger at her shoes, she continued to cry. “These shoes got my mother. She said she was going to marry my dad because he bought her these shoes. She said any man sensitive enough to understand the importance of shoes was a man worth marrying.” 223

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 is mouth fell open as he stared at her like a deer caught in H headlights. He thought she was crazy. She could tell. “My dad,” she half-sobbed, “blew off an appointment with Earth, Wind and Fire to buy these shoes. He flew all the way to Paris for them.” His eyes widened. “Marvin Kennedy is sentimental?” “Once upon a time.” She bit her bottom lip, to stop it from trembling. “Okay,” he said, as he dropped down onto the bench next to her, “I’m gonna fix this.” He gave her a look with his earnest blue eyes that she just wanted to fall into. He had been one of People’s sexiest men and his photo hadn’t done him justice. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. He untied the lace wrapped around her leg, his hands almost gentle against her skin. He pulled her shoe off and started to wipe the pooh off the sole of the shoe with his shirt. She couldn’t believe he was cleaning her shoe. “You’re going to ruin your shirt.” He glanced up at her. “Darlin’, dooh dooh washes off. I don’t even have to take it down to the creek and pound it on some rocks.” He winked at her. “I have a state of the art washer guaranteed to wash the dooh dooh off anything.” She laughed. His hands were beautiful with long fingers. The nails were bluntly cut and neat, but he had several small nicks and cuts that appeared new. As he bent over her shoe, she noticed a small bump on his nose. His mouth was finely contoured, almost pouty and skin was a tanned to a soft shade of gold. And his blue eyes--she almost sighed at the deep startling color. His chest was broad and muscular with a sprinkling of silken dark blond hair that meandered down his waist to parts waiting to be discovered. Oh my, she thought, swallowing a winsome sigh. Matisse wheezed and nuzzled against her ankle. I know, she thought, I like him, too. He’s cleaning pooh off my shoe. Someone this nice shouldn’t work for her dad. Dammit, now I’m conflicted. She hated that. 224

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“ Darlin,” he said, looking up. “Are you okay?” She almost melted at the sight of long, curling blond lashes. “You are so sweet.” “Darlin, for twenty years I’ve been a country and western singer, sentimentality is my stock in trade.” She fought the urge to say, sign with my dad and be sentimental, but she didn’t. Trying to talk business over pooh cleaning was just wrong. Beside she had to gird herself for the war to come. She was going to hate having to getting bloody, but for the future of her girls she would gladly open a vein.

w J.B. stopped himself from taking a peek at her again. He was afraid if he did, she’d bat those pretty brown eyes at him and the next thing he knew, he’d be signing his name on the dotted line of a three CD deal. She’d called him sweet. Sweet things were not what he was thinking about. Her foot dangled in front of him. Dear God, she had pretty feet. Long supple toes and a high arch. He just wanted to suck on her toes. He finished cleaning off her shoe and set it down on the grass. Veronica slipped her foot in the shoe and he tied the silky straps. And he was real proud of himself that he didn’t even feel up her leg. “Good as new.” He stood up. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry I had a mental melt down.” She gave him a wide smile. “I understand. I have a lucky belt buckle myself.” She fanned her face. “It’s really hot out here.” She had no idea, he thought. “Can I get you something to drink?” He held out his hand for her. “Inside.” Veronica slipped her fingers into his hand. “You’re not going to take me to the creek? I’ve never seen one.” A bolt of heat danced up his arm. He thought his knees would buckle as he helped her to her feet. Boy you are in trouble. “Haven’t your ever been to the country?” She shrugged her delicate shoulders as they walked to the house. “I’ve been to Provence and the Hamptons. And the place where I went to school in Switzerland was next to a forest.” “I been to Switzerland. That ain’t country.” 225

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“ For me it was the country.” She stopped to let her dog catch up. He was smelling everything in sight. “I was born in the Bronx.” Where’s the accent? Where’s the attitude. She couldn’t have spent more than five minutes there. She’s too soft. “You were?” “There was a time when my family wasn’t wealthy. Harvest Moon records has very humble beginnings.” They climbed the steps to the house together. “I didn’t know.” “Not a lot of people do.” She placed a finger over her lips and whispered. “Keep it under your hat.” “I love keeping women’s secrets.” She flashed him a smile revealing nice even white teeth. Damn she even had sexy teeth. “Why am I not surprised.” His Uncle was waiting for them with a sly smile on his weathered face. “Andrew Devlin, I’d like to introduce you to Ms. Veronica Kennedy.” Uncle Dew held out his hand and she grasped it. “Please to meet ya.” “How do you do, Mr. Devlin.” “Everyone just calls me Uncle Dew.” He winked at her. “You call me that to.” Now his uncle was flirting with her. He was feeling a might jealous. He might as well sign now. “My pleasure.” She smiled. J.B. was dazzled by her friendliness. He was in big trouble. “Uncle Dew why don’t you take her inside and get her something cold. I need a shower. And get something for her little guy too.” He pointed to the dog who was busy smelling Uncle Dew’s boots and wagging his stubby tail. Before they went into the house, she slipped off her shoes and left them by the front door. Her good manners really impressed him. His late aunt Juanita would be impressed. J.B. didn’t date the nice girls when his aunt was alive. She’d lived in fear that he’d slip a ring on one of those loosey goosey tramps, as she liked to call them before he’d even begun to live. He watched Veronica slip her arm through his Uncle’s as they strolled toward the parlor. As he headed for the wraparound staircase, he heard his uncle laugh at something she said. She was flirting with an old man, in his house, barefoot. They were in real trouble. He hurried up the stairs and 226

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into the master bedroom. He figured he had about ten minutes before his uncle was charmed beyond reason and the old guy would be holding a rifle to his head making him sign his life away. In the bathroom, he turned on only the cold tap and quickly stripped. He looked down at himself. He was already sporting the grand daddy of all woodies. He was pathetic. No wonder Marvin Kennedy brought in his daughter to seal the deal. What man could resist her? She was charming, beautiful and smelled like wild flowers. Stepping into the shower stall he wanted to scream as the icy water hit his overheated body. Praying his boner would subside sometime in the next decade, he scrubbed himself clean. Shampoo got in his eyes and he wanted to howl. He was so worked up he couldn’t even bathe himself. He rinsed, threw on some clothes and took the stairs two at a time. Racing through the house he forced himself to stop at the double doors of the parlor. Peeking around the corner, he convinced himself the eavesdropping wasn’t wrong, because he was protecting his future. “I love Paris. I loved going to college there.” “I was a young man in France myself, young lady. The girls there were almost as pretty as you.” Veronica slapped his hand. “You are flirting with me.” “Course I am.” She giggled, the musical sound filling the room.Funny, J.B. thought. It sounded so right in the room. A moment of longing hit him. He wanted to fill this house with laughter again. Like when he was a boy and his aunt was alive. “Were you there during World War II?” Veronica asked his uncle. Uncle Dew nodded. “I was at Normandy.” Respect shone on her face as she nodded. “You’re a hero. My mother’s father was in Germany during the war. He lied and enlisted.” “Did the same thing myself.” That’s when J.B. knew his Uncle and Veronica had bonded. She knew about history. Leaning back in the chair J.B. watched as she crossed her shapely ankles. “He used to tell me a little, but I felt like there was so much he’d never talk about.” Veronica sighed. “I always believed it was painful for him.” J.B. wanted to lick her ankles they were so pretty. Did he really just 227

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think that? God dammit he did. “Don’t much talk about it myself.” Dew said. J.B. continued watching while Veronica patted his uncle’s hand. “I understand.” She answered softly. Suddenly he wanted to be alone with her, so he needed to get rid of his uncle. Before he walked into the room he grabbed his car keys off of the hall table and stuffed them in his pocket, an idea forming in his head. “Good thing. He might show his war wound.” Seeing an old man’s ass would have her running for the airport in no time. Uncle Dew blushed. “Boy, I’ll save that for a real date.” “Speaking of which, aren’t you seeing Miss Loretta tonight?” Uncle Dew’s snowy white eyebrows rose. “I am?” “Yes you are.” He dug his car keys out of his pocket. “Remember, you’re taking the Corvette.” “The corvette?” Uncle Dew’s voice echoed with reverence. “It’s a special occasion.” J.B. lowered his hand with the keys to his jean’s pocket, his voice hitting the right note of sadness. “If you didn’t remember, maybe you’re too old to drive the car?” Now he felt like a dad promising his son a reward for good behavior. Uncle Dew sprang up like a man half his age and hurried over. “Hell no I ain’t.” Sweet, he was going to be alone with the lovely Veronica. J.B grabbed Uncle Dew’s arm and led him into the hall. He picked up his wallet out the glass bowl and opened it up and pulled out a wad of twenties. He shoved the bills in his Uncle’s hand. “Have a good time.” Uncle Dew stuffed the bills in his shirt pocket. “Money and the pussy wagon, you desperate?” J.B. hand stopped in mid air. “Did you just call my 1956 Corvette convertible ‘the pussy wagon’?” “Ain’t that what you used it for?” The old man didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. Back in the day that car was a deal breaker. And he’d used it without mercy, to plow through the local high school girl population. Uncle Dew checked his appearance in the hall mirror. “What about Diamond Girl?” J.B. had to stop himself from pushing the old guy out the door. “Henry 228

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and Pablo can look after her.” “Well I guess I got myself a date.” He padded the pocket with the money in it. “Hope Loretta’s free.” So did he. “Have a good time.” Uncle Dew snickered. “Hope I get lucky tonight.” Somehow thinking about his Uncle having sex disturbed him, but he had to get the man out the house for a couple of hours so things might proceed to the bedroom. “Good luck.” He handed him the keys, and thought about running upstairs to get the old guy a couple of condoms. He shuddered. That was too scary. Uncle Dew elbowed him in the ribs. “You too boy.” Then he put the keys in his pocket and headed for the door whistling. J.B. took a long breath then checked his hair in the hall mirror. He could use a hair cut, but Roy Mack Dawson was the only barber in town and he did a half assed job on a good day. And there was no way he was going to the beauty parlor and let Muriel Trenton cut his hair, although she knew her way around a pair of scissors. He could pay her to come out to the house and keep quiet. What the hell was he worrying about his hair for? Its not like he was singing anymore. He looked fine. “Are you going to feed me?” He stopped mid inspection and turned to face her. Veronica leaned against the door jam, a seductive glint in her dark eyes. Oh yeah. I got just what you need. “I thought you wanted to talk business?” “I do but I’m about to faint from hunger, I want to get back on the road before dark.” She put the back of her hand on her forehead and lowered her eyelashes. Then she batted them a couple of times. Another idea just leaped into his head. “Why don’t you stay here?” Oh he was so smooth. She straightened, surprise written all over her face. “That’s awfully sweet, but all my things are at Maebelle’s Bed and Breakfast in town.” She wasn’t getting out of his clutches that easily. “I can take care of that for you.” “Really?” Oh ye of little faith. He picked the cell phone up from the hall table 229

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and dialed his foreman. “Dallas, I need you to have one of the boys go into town and pick up Ms. Veronica Kennedy’s things from Maebelle’s and bring them to the house.” His foreman said yes. “Thanks.” “But,--” Veronica interrupted. He held up one finger and then dialed Maebelle Bradley’s number. “Miss Maebelle, its J.B.” “How you doin’, Sugar?” “Just fine.” He lowered his voice to a more seductive tone. Miss Maebelle loved a man who flirted with her sixty year old self. “I need a big favor.”  “Anything for you.” God he loved hearing that from a woman and if things went his way he’d be hearing those exact words from Veronica ’s pretty mouth. “I’m sending one of boys around to pick up Ms. Kennedy’s things, she’s going to stay at the ranch.” He smiled at Veronica. Who smiled right back. He had to stop himself from moaning. “Is there a problem?” He heard the suspicion in Maebelle’s voice. “No darlin’.” He soothed the feisty woman. “I’m just being hospitable. Ms. Kennedy’s from New York City, she’s never seen a working ranch.” “Oh.” Maebelle didn’t sound as if she believed him. He knew by noon tomorrow the entire town of Nowhere would know he’d been entertaining a pretty city woman. “You just go head and bill me for her stay and add on a few days for your trouble.” Maebelle probably over charged her anyway and now he made the deal even sweeter. “I charged her extra for that dog.” Now why wasn’t he surprised. “Not a problem and like I said you add on a little something extra darlin’.” Maebelle sighed. “I will Sugar, thank you.” “You take care now, darlin’.” He hung up the cell and tucked it in his pocket. “Wasn’t that simple?” Veronica pushed her lush body away from the door jamb. “Very.” “I like simple.” He started walking to the kitchen. “Follow me for some down home hospitality.” He crooked his finger. “J.B. Devlin there is nothing simple about you.” He stopped and turned to face her. “How do you know?” Veronica caught up to him. “It’s my business to know.” 230

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 ow if her daddy had a brought her along when he was still wobbling N on his retirement, J.B. could have been convinced to do one more CD and not care if it was rehashed crap. “How come when your daddy came to one of my shows, you weren’t in his entourage?” “I’m not part of the in posse.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did the entoourage impress you?” Shaking his head he continued to walk toward the kitchen. “That would be a no.” “That’s what I thought.” She smiled. Guess they didn’t impress her much either. God did he like this woman. “Is that why he sent you?” He squired her over to the gray granite breakfast bar and pulled out one of the high back red leather stools for her. After she sat, she planted her elbows on the counter and rested her chin on her folded hands. “Maybe he thought you needed the soft touch?” Secretly he admitted, he was liking the soft touch just fine. “Since his grand approach didn’t do diddly for me.” “That’s a point in your favor.” She was good at being evasive. Normally that got on his nerves, but with her it was like they were in a sexually charged sparring match. “You still haven’t answered my question.” She rolled her eyes and huffed. “My father thinks I’m his big gun.” And he had a big ole target on his forehead. Never had feeling like prey felt so ... exciting. “Veronica Kennedy, you’re a smart bomb.” “I think I’m flattered by that remark.” He didn’t answer. He wanted her to be flattered. That could lead to other things. Things that didn’t involve clothes or inhibitions. He wanted to bed this woman like he wanted his next breath. She was sharp, she was funny, she had a sentimental streak as wide as Texas, she smelled good and damn if she was the prettiest thing he’d seen in a long time. He was going to have her. Getting her in his bed would be worth another album. Hell he could write an entire one about her mouth alone. Damn it, he was in trouble. “Do I make you nervous?” Her voice lowered on octave sound so sweet. So seductive. So tempting. The jaded country star in him wondered what she would do to get him to give in. But in his heart, he knew she 231

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wasn’t that kind of woman. But for a brief second, he’d wished she was, just because he wanted a taste. “Not in that way.” She bit her bottom lip. A glint of desire shining in her dark eyes. “I’m not touching that.” As far as he was concerned she could touch anything of his she wanted to. As many times as she wanted to. “What do you do at the record company?” “I run human resources.” He walked to the big stainless steel refrigerator and opened the door. He had steaks marinating for tonight’s dinner and before he took them out he turned to her. “Are you vegetarian?” “Not on your life.” He didn’t figure she was. A butt that round didn’t come from nibbling on carrots. “Why don’t you work with the talent?” He put the steaks on the counter. “You have a nice touch.” She rolled her eyes. “I teach the employees to deal with the talent.” Smiling he went back in the fridge for salad fixings. “Was there some contempt in that tone?” She pinched her thumb and forefinger together. “Maybe a bit. But I have found being around musicians and singers most of my life that about ninety percent of them are certifiable.” She smiled. “You being one of the few exceptions.” That was an interesting compliment. “How can you tell?” “You wiped pooh off my shoe. Try as hard as I might, I can’t see Justin Timberlake or Kayne West doing that.” He still couldn’t believe he had either. Not that he didn’t deal with plenty being around horses. Thinking about dog crap and a beautiful woman at the same time just wasn’t right. “How do you expect to run the family empire from human resources?” “I don’t intend to run the empire. My half sister Alexandra should be in charge. She lives for the music business. It’s my job, not my great adventure.” Now things were getting interesting. What made Veronica Kennedy tick? He was dying to know. “What is your great adventure?” Her face lit up as if she couldn’t wait to talk about what it was. 232

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“ The Andrea Jones-Kennedy Foundation.” A woman with her own foundation. Was it just a rich girl hobby? “What do you do there?” Pride shone on her face. “We mentor inner city girls who show potential.” To what shop? “In what way?” Okay that was mean, and probably wrong. But he knew the second you got a woman talking about her passion you were half way to the sheets with her. “We keep them in school and out of trouble. Steer them towards making positive choices. And hopefully show them there is more to the world than where they started out.” Maybe he should write her a check. He liked the sound of what she was doing. That would cushion the blow of not signing on to do another record for her father. “How?” Her body shook with excitement. “We give them a support system of positive successful women to help them. We mentor, buy school supplies, proper clothes, we go to cultural events, etiquette lessons, and whatever will give them a good start to achieving their goals. We help them get into college or jobs. Sometimes all we do is listen.” “Etiquette lessons?” This he had to hear. She lifted that delicate chin a fraction of an inch. “I’m considered to be the finest finishing school on the Eastern seaboard. When my girls leave me, they can navigate a boardroom, or sit down at king’s tables and not embarrass themselves.” He laughed. Impressed as he was with good manners, he couldn’t figure out why that was important? “Why?” “My mother came from the worst neighborhood in New York. She was beautiful but unrefined, her word not mine, when she was scouted to model. She went to Paris where she figured out if she had a certain social polish she could have the world at her feet. She took etiquette lessons, diction classes, and educated herself on culture. When she re-made herself, she was the toast of the town. And in the seventies for a black model that was saying something. Her direct quote: Modeling took the girl out of the ghetto and she took the ghetto out of the girl.” So that’s where the beauty and the class came from. It was a lethal combination. “There’s more than what you telling me.” 233

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“ You care?” “I like talking to you.” She pursed her lip and eyed him as if she was trying to figure him out. Good he liked keeping her on her toes. “Go on.” “When she married my father, she took over teaching his artists the same thing. There was a time when a Harvest Moon artist had star quality. When she died, no one seemed to care about turning out singers with class. So I continued her work with girls who were willing to work hard and who wanted more out of life than being on the corner hanging with the home boys.” She sighed. “You said had star quality?” “When my mother died, my father became consumed with business. I’m no psychiatrist, but I’m sure he thought the money would replace her. That’s when he decided he was going to be a tycoon and discovered rap and hip hop acts sell a lot of records.” He could feel the anger vibrating inside her. “Are you angry about that?” “When my mother handled the artists no one dared to chew gum during an interview, neglected to wear their underwear, or couldn’t speak a complete sentence, much less English.” Her red finger nails tapped on the counter with every word. He watched her fingers beat a tempo in his granite. He was afraid she’d leave holes. “Bitter?” She tapped her fingers even harder. “My father sent me to finishing school and expected, no demanded that I be a lady. He squired me to one of the most prestige debutante balls. I made my come out with the daughters of royalty and international business people. Because he wanted me to be one of those people. And yet he makes his money pandering to trash culture.” “That would be a yes.” He studied her for a moment then opened a bottle of Cabernet to let it breathe. “Then why do you want me to sign with him?” That was the twenty-five million dollar question. 

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Chapter Three Veronica forced her fingers to stop abusing his granite counters. She could feel her shoulder sink in defeat. She knew getting this man to do another record was sinking fast. She could almost feel the defeated look settle on her face. But she still had to come up with the right answer, so there would still be a glimmer of hope. “You’re already formed. He can’t corrupt you. And you turned out quite well I might add.” My, she thought that sounded good. Maybe she was on the right track. Flatter, but don’t be grandiose. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” She smiled. “You have asked a lot of questions about me. When do I get a turn?” He put the steaks on the grill and the sizzle was music to her ears. “Ask away I’m an open book.” Other than would you like to do the naked hookey pokey with me, there was one question she was dying to know. “You are at the height of your career, why retire?” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I want to raise horses.” “Really?” “Yes.” Nope she wasn’t having that answer. “That is the response you gave the press. I want the director’s cut.” He turned back and nearly stepped on her dog. He looked down and Matisse gave him a look that spoke volumes. I haven’t eaten for days and I’m starving. “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” He reached inside the fridge and pulled out what looked like chicken. “Can your little guy have table scraps?” Matisse was going to love him forever. He lived for table scraps. “If I have to choose between eating and him eating, he gets fed.” J.B. smiled and tossed the meat. Matisse caught the chicken and spun around in a circle before gobbling it down. Veronica lifted an eyebrow. “I’m sensing a novel full of information being hidden.” J.B. blew out a long breath. “I don’t have anything new to say.” 235

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 efore her flight down she’d downloaded his latest four CD’s. This B man ran out of things to say? His seductive voice carried more emotion in one note than almost anyone else in the top forty. He wrote songs that touched her the same way a Mozart concerto did, and a Billie Holiday torch song did. In the five hour flight she became a fan. She was going to get her hands on everything he’d ever done, including the four commercial jiggles he sang before he made it big. By the time the plane landed she was madly in love with his voice. He owed it to the world to keep singing. “Are you saying you’re irrelevant?” She couldn’t believe he thought he was, but she had to know. “I could fake it through a couple of CD’s, but that’s ripping your fans off and myself.” Her eyes widened in almost disbelief. “You actually care?” “Yes.” “I’m stunned.” “I’ve been doing this for twenty years, I’m tapped out.” For a second, he sounded defensive. She’d just gotten to know his music, she wanted more. “I don’t mean to be critical, but--” “You’re wondering how hard it is to write a song about a broken hearted cowboy.” She didn’t mean to hurt his feeling. “I was not.” She wasn’t, this man was an artist, a poet. A dreamer. He was more than just a cowboy singer. He was a national treasure. “Yeah, you were.” “Perhaps.” She conceded. “But didn’t your Russian girlfriend leave you for some hot new thing. Aren’t you broken hearted? There has to be a song or two about that.” “Good-bye and don’t let the door hit you on your way out.” Okay she was elated. He was broken hearted. That meant when she got him into bed, this would be re-bound sex. Which meant he had something to prove and she would be his testing grounds. She could live with that. Thank you, God. “According to her press conference, she left you.” He flipped the steaks over on the grill and then started making them a salad. He worked in the kitchen as if he’d been comfortable with it. “She did, but I’m not pining.” 236

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“ Why not?” Why would any woman leave a man like him. Or who had a body God intended for a man to have. “Katya wanted to be the girlfriend of a country singer, not a horse breeder’s wife.” What a dumb bitch. Her loss. My gain. “Oh,” she said hoping she sounded consoling. “You sound like you can’t believe anyone would leave me.” “Did I?” So grateful, she wanted to call Katya and tell her thanks. “Or is it because I don’t want to sing anymore?” She watched him toss the salad. “Most people will do anything to stay in the spotlight. They find it hard to walk away, even if they don’t have anything to say.” “I’m not most people.” Truer words had never been spoken. “I’ve already come to that conclusion.” “Is that a good thing?” “A very good thing.” “Do you mind eating in here? I always feel lost in the formal dinning room.” In her tiny apartment she usually ate over the sink or on the sofa. The only time she got fancy was at her father’s estate, when she was going to a company affair, or one of her charity events. “No. I don’t mind at all.” “When we’re done, we can talk business.” Funny his business didn’t sound like her business, but she didn’t care. She just liked being around him.

w J.B. escorted Veronica into his den. As he walked to the stereo to pick out something to get cozy by, the front door bell rang. After excusing himself, he answered the door to find Ward Malone, one of his cowboys standing at the door surrounded by designer luggage. The poor boy was holding a small portable fan. J.B. stopped himself from laughing. About four months ago Ward showed up at the ranch and J.B. was helping him kick start his career and he ended up hauling luggage and shoveling horseshit. The kid had talent, but was raw. J. B. was working with him in exchange for help on the ranch. Paying dues was a bitch. “Let me help you, son.” J.B. took the fan and one of the bags. 237

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 ard hefted up the other two. “Where do they go?” W “Upstairs, second room on the left.” J.B. let him pass. What did she carry in her bags? Rocks? He stopped at the den entrance. “Why do you have a fan?” She turned around from going through his record collection and pointed to Matisse who’d fallen asleep. “For his majesty.” A fan for a dog was kooky. Interesting but kooky. “Why?” “If he gets hot there’s no sleeping with him. He grunts, huffs and wheezes. I don’t like the cold, so that way we’re both happy.” “He doesn’t sleep in your bed?” “Actually, he has no trouble taking up the entire bed.” That worked fine for J.B. He had no desire to fight a dog for space. “Oh.” She hurried over to him. “Here let me help you?” He shook his head. “No, Darlin’ you’re company.” “I have so much.” “I noticed.” For a second, she looked guilty. “I can’t travel light.” Now that was a news flash. “Never met a woman who could.” She put her hands on her hips. “How sexist of you.” “I’m Texan.” As if that explained everything. He said with a wink and turned around and hauled her luggage upstairs. He took all of ten minutes. Most of his time was debating whether to put her things in his room or not. Okay maybe he was being over confident, but she was sending him the right vibes. Or at least he hoped she was. Downstairs he found her studying his rare LP’ collection, she had a smile on her face. “Another vinyl lover.” Serious points in her favor. “Black Dog McCoy’s The Storyville Session.” She sighed. “Do you know how rare this is?” Considering that he brought it at a Christie’s auction three years ago for six figures, yes he did. “Only seventeen in existence.” It was good to be the rich country star. “So you like old Blues.” He walked over to her. “I like a lot of things.” “I noticed. Akon, along side Metacllica, Mozart’s Don Giovanni, 238

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Patsy Cline, Rascal Flatts, Fergie, and the Sex Pistols. Your taste is a bit A.D.D.” He never heard it put that way before and wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. “In a bad way?” She held the LP next to her chest. “My collection is not this updated, but I’m all over the place to.” “What was the last thing you bought?” She inclined her head toward him. “You.” J.B. figured she was trying to size him as a singer, but he was still flattered. “Thank you.” “I wanted to get a feel for you.” That was a loaded statement if he’d ever heard one. And he was willing to let her do all the up close and personal research she needed. “Feel away.” She just laughed and handed him the record. “I’ve only heard this once.” “I’m taking that as a hint.” “You are smart.” Veronica took a step back giving a clear field to the stereo system. He turned on the turn table and put on the LP. Seconds later the sultry notes filled the room. He turned to her. “Care to dance.” “Love to.” He took her into his arms and pressed his body to hers. He loved the way she fit next to him as if she was made for him. Her soft body curving into his. He rested his chin against her forehead and they swayed to the sensual beat. He closed his eyes and inhaled. On her skin he smelled wild flowers and musk. He liked her scent. He heard her sigh against him. His body tightened with need. God he wanted her. And she wanted him. A thought in the back of his head tapped at him. Would she sleep with him to get him to sign. God he hoped not. And then there was a part of him that didn’t care. He just wanted her. “Kennedy. You have a little Irish in you?” She tilted her head back and stared in his eyes. “I have no idea.” “Would you like to?” She stopped moving. She licked her bottom lip. So this was the moment of truth. “Well?” 239

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S he stood on her tip toes and kissed him. Without breaking the kiss, J.B. picked her up and hurried her to his bedroom. Adrenalin pumped through and he took the steps two at a time. He made it to his bedroom in record time. Walking across the room until he felt the bed hit his knee. Bending over he laid her on the bed and then toed the back of his boot then took it off. He did the same to the other. Veronica put her hands behind her head and laid back. “You in a hurry?” “I’m not letting you change your mind.” He grabbed his shirt and ripped it off and tossed it across the room. “I thought anticipation was--” “Overrated.” She sat up and took off her shirt and tossed it. “If you insist. Where are the condoms?” He stopped unbuckling his belt and pointed to the night stand table. Veronica rolled over and crawled across his bed and opened the drawer. “How many were you expecting?” She gave him a saucy look over her shoulder. Now, how did a guy answer a question like that? J.B. didn’t know what say. Being prepared in his business was a must. Not that he slept with every woman that came along, but protecting the jewels and the money was job number one. He put a knee on the bed to follow her and then as she was looking inside the drawer her perfect bubble ass wiggled and he couldn’t help himself. He just kinda gave her a little love tap. She stopped what she was doing and turned around. “Did you just smack my rear end on purpose?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. Maybe he went a little too far to fast. “Well that depends.” Her eyebrow lifted. “On what?” “Did you like it?” She smiled and turned around again, then wiggled that fine ass of hers and he couldn’t help himself, he just gave a couple of swift swats. She giggled. As much as he loved playing with her ass he had a million other things he wanted to do to her body. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her to him and she rolled over on her back. Swiftly he undid the front clasp on her 240

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bra and buried his face in her breasts. Her back arched and he nipped the side of one high firm globe and was rewarded by her deep moan. “Hurry, J.B.” Before he could reach for his belt buckle she was there, ripping it off his waist. She had his already erect cock out before he got his next breath. “Darlin’ we have a lot of ground to cover.” “Start covering cowboy,” she said as she leaned forward and kissed him. Veronica’s mouth tasted hot and sweet. He grabbed her around the waist and arched her body. Her nipple rubbed against his mouth and he licked the hard peak as she struggled to get closer to him. She grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand between her legs. She was hot and wet. She smelled like sex and wild flowers. Burying a finger inside her drenched pussy, he felt her tighten around him. He stroked inside her, hitting her G-spot. Her body shook as he fingered her. Her back arched and her legs clenched his waist. He worked his jeans down with one hand. Who the hell knew he was that talented? “Oh yes! More.” Far be it from him to disappoint a lady. J.B pushed her down until she was flat on the mattress. Then he grabbed her waist and yanked her toward him until her ass rested on his knees. He took the condom she dropped on the mattress and quickly sheathed himself. Without even thinking, he shoved himself into her, balls deep. Damn she was so ready for him. Tight and wet. He should have chained her to the bed. Gritting his teeth, J.B. prayed to God not to come too soon. When he caught his breath, he started stroking inside her nice and slow. From the second she stepped onto his property making love to her was all he wanted. The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room, and they warred with each other for control. He wasn’t giving up and she wasn’t going to be happy until she got what she wanted. Hell, he didn’t care, he just wanted to be right where he was. “That’s it, J.B.,” she cried, “Harder. Harder.” He could feel her tightening up on him as he continued to stroke her, hitting her G-spot hard every time. 241

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The heel of her foot dug into his thigh. It hurt like hell, but he wasn’t stopping. Sweat covered her body as her breasts bounced in rhythm. Shit, she was so primed. She started stroking her own clit, but he didn’t want her to help herself. He wanted to make her come. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her hand above her head and held it. His balls tightened and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he exploded—he just wanted to take her with him. Working himself inside her harder, he felt her body convulse. He started moving faster, harder, deeper. Gritting his teeth, he just had to hold on a little bit longer. A low keening wail escaped her and her back arched. Her tight pussy muscles started milking his cock and it was all over except for the clapping. J.B. let go and came. Collapsing on top of her, he didn’t think he’d move until morning. They just lay there, neither of them talking. He wanted to ask what she was thinking, but didn’t. He was wondering what was supposed to come next. “Now I get it.” “Get what, Darlin’?” “Why you save a horse and ride a cowboy.” He buried his face in her breasts and started laughing.

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Chapter

Four

J.B. watched her sleep. Her lips were slightly parted and she snuggled up to him, throwing a leg over his thighs. He liked watching her in the candlelight. Matter of fact, it was the sound of the fan and the candlelight in the room that woke him up. Call him a baby, but he liked a room pitch black and noiseless when he slept. By her deep even breaths she was in a deep sleep. He eased away from her and walked to the dresser where the candle sat and blew it out. Then he bent over and unplugged the fan. The night was cool enough and her dog shouldn’t be too uncomfortable, but just in case, he got Matisse a bowl of water. It only took minutes to return to the room, but when he entered the room, he heard this rumble coming from the dog. And then the smell hit him. Had something died in here in the few minutes it took him to get the water. Then the huffing started. “I told you so.” Veronica said. “How can that little dog be so loud or so rank?” “I have no idea.” She sat up in the bed. “Light the candle and turn on the fan. Matisse never suffers silently nor does he suffer alone.” J.B. turned on the fan and lit the candle. He went to the window and cracked it a bit. The scent of honeysuckle quickly filled the room. “What do you do in winter?” “I wear seven pairs of socks and have two electric blankets.” She patted the part of the bed next to her. “Was it the fan or the candle?” “Both.” “Poor baby. I’ll guess I’ll have to wear you out so you can get a good night’s sleep.” “I don’t know after that smell, I may never work right again.” “Don’t be a baby.” “I’m a super star, my ego is fragile.” “Nothing else on you is.” “I’m willing to try.” She straddled him. “I’ll fix you.” He reached for the drawer and pulled out his box of condoms. “Do your best Doctor.” 243

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S he bit his bottom lip. stethoscope.”

“I knew I should have packed my

w Three days later J. B. was in the kitchen making breakfast. He piled country fries on Veronica’s plate. “Want to see my ranch?” She really didn’t want to go near any of those big hulking beasts, but he did have the glint of a five year boy eager to show off his new toy. It was very sweet and she did feel honored that he wanted to share this part of his world with her. “Frankly, it might be nice to see something beside your bedroom. Although I’m having a really great time.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “You can see my new foal.” “I’m not sure about ...” J.B. put double the amount of potatoes on his plate next to his steak and eggs. “He’s a baby. He can’t hurt you.” Veronica pushed the potatoes around on her plate trying not to nervous. “Then he should be safe.” She took a deep breath, she wasn’t going to go easy. “What about the mother? Aren’t they protective of their young?” “She’s a working quarter horse, she’s used to a lot going on around her. Don’t act nervous around her and you’ll be fine.”  “May I take Matisse? He’s never seen a horse before. It would be educational.” It wouldn’t be safe to leave him alone in the house. He’s good at showing his displeasure. “He’s going to be alright around...” She fed Matisse a piece of steak. “His best buddies at the dog park are Suki the Mastiff and Mr. Wiggles a Great Dane. He’s used to every one in the world being bigger than him. And if I leave him alone he might leave a present.” J.B. laughed. “Then we’d be even.”

w J.B. wondered how a woman who stayed up half the night wrestling with him in his bed could look this good with only a shower. Her skin glowed in the overhead lights in the barn. She wasn’t even wearing any makeup. Katya had put on a face to answer the phone. Veronica just 244

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fluffed her hair and put on a pair of jeans and sneakers and called herself done. For a woman who appeared high maintenance she sure knew how to dress down and be comfortable. Almost like she could live here. Now that thought scared him. How he had become so wrapped up in a woman in less than three days was beyond him. She was a complete mystery. Oh she answered all his questions, but he sensed she held so much back. Why hadn’t she talked about business? What were her real motives? Why couldn’t he get a handle on her? What the hell did he want from her? And how much was he willing to do to keep her? All these questions rolled around in his head. Damn, sex used to be so easy. One beautiful woman had to go and make things all complicated. And there she was watching the foal suckle from its mother. “He’s so beautiful.” Veronica laughed. She may not like horses now, J.B. thought, but he could turn her. She just stared at him with wonder on her face. “He’s my new pride and joy.” J. B. finally answered. She faced him with a big smile on her face. “What have you named him?” “I haven’t decided yet.” “Tell me something, do they give quarter horses chi chi names like people give their show dogs?” “Excuse me. Matisse?” He stopped himself from laughing because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “The name is bigger than the dog.” She raised her chin and stared at him. “Henri Matisse happens to be my favorite painter. And that is his only name.” J.B. shrugged his shoulder, naming the horse was the last thing on his mind lately. “Hell darlin’, he could end up being called Booger for all I care. I’ve got a buyer for him already. As soon as he’s weaned he’s out of the stall and on to a new life.” “He’s still a baby.” Her eyes widened. “How can you give him up?” “He’s not a pet.” “Farm life is hard.” She let out a long breath and turned her attention back to the foal and his mother. It used to be the easy part of his life, until she turned her cute ass up here. Part of him wanted that easy life back, but one part of him wanted 245

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her complication in his life. “Ranch life.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she mumbled. Before he could reply, Matisse scooted under the gate and ran to the foal. J.B. stepped back and opened the gate. The foal bent its head and gave Matisse a quick sniff. Matisse’s body shook with excitement and his stubby tail moved a mile a minute.  Then the mother bent her nose and sniffed the dog. She didn’t seem upset that the dog had invaded her space or was curious about her baby. J.B walked into the stall and slowly slipped around her dog’s stomach and lifted his squirming body. He tucked the dog under his arm and backed out of the stall. After closing the gate he handed Matisse to her. Veronica clutched the dog to her chest. “Matisse, what were you thinking?” J.B. slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Everything is okay.” “He could have been stomped. He could have been--” “He wasn’t. Diamond Girl is very calm.” She kissed the dog’s head. “You saved my baby.” J.B. smiled. He was willing to slay dragons for her. What man wouldn’t do the same? “He would have been fine. I was more worried about you.” Veronica reached up and kissed his lips. “Thank you.” His heart stopped, just like it did every time she touched him. “My pleasure.” She put Matisse down and he started barking and was joined by a deeper louder bark. Digger was finally making an appearance. J.B. turned to see his dog amble into the barn. The dog was tall and broad and had a shaggy gray and black coat. “What in heaven’s name is that?” Digger was about the ugliest dog on the planet, but he was friendly. “That would be Digger.” “What kind of dog is he?” “Only the best horse dog in Texas. You sort of met him yesterday.” The dog nudged Veronica in the leg. Matisse ran circles around the 246

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big dog, his excited barks filling the barn. Digger didn’t even seem fazed. Veronica put her hand down for the dog to stiff. He smelled her hand, licked her and went on his way. “Does he like me?” “Just fine. He’s going to check on his newest horse.” “His horse?” “Yeah, I just feed them, Digger owns them.” “He does know you pay the bills, right?” “Do you want to stay here and talk about my dog?” He wanted to show her what his life was and what he needed it to be. “You asked me to come out here.” J.B. slipped his hands in his pockets. A desperate part of him wanted her to say, it was okay that he couldn’t write a decent song anymore and that he was still worthwhile. He needed her to understand. “I wanted you to see my life as it is now.” She shook her head. “J.B. Devlin, you’re a smart man, you can do both.” He crossed his arms over his chest standing firm. Not like anyone could force him to get back to his music. He was in charge of his life. “Maybe, I don’t want to.” “Then why keep me here?” She pursed her lips. “Just for sex? You can find that anywhere.” Damn was she the Spanish Inquistion? He’d thought that would be apparent. “Maybe I just wanted it with you.” Rolling her eyes, she continued. “Maybe you are full of pooh.” Where was all this grief coming from? This was his life. It was time to turn the tables on her. See how she like being under the microscope. “Why do you want me to sign with your daddy’s label? You don’t have a lot of respect for the business and I’m not sure you even like your father.” Veronica bit her bottom lip. How could she lie to him? His name on a contract was worth twenty-five million dollars to her. In her heart she knew she didn’t sleep with him to get his name, but she knew how it looked. Mercenary. She was her father’s daughter after all. She’d sworn she didn’t have a price tag, but her father had found her weak spot and he’d exploited it without mercy. And it wasn’t sitting right with her. “I love my father. I don’t like what he’s become.” He cocked one on his blond eyebrows. “What has he become, beside, 247

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rich, successful and respected?” But at what price. Her dad sold out. How would J.B. ever understand? He didn’t sell out. “More concerned with image than substance.” J.B. took a deep breath and stared at her like she was an idiot. “Darlin’ that’s what most of the world is concerned with.” One of her hands curled into a fist. She didn’t like where this conversation was heading. “It doesn’t make it right.” “You don’t think working for him makes you the same?” Her mouth dropped open for a second. That hurt. She hadn’t expected him to be mean. “That’s low.” “But true.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I only work for him so I can make a living. I’m more concerned about helping my girls.” “The end justifying the means?” So what, she did good things with that money. That had to count for something. “Why, is that so bad?” “I didn’t say it was, you’re the one on the moral high horse.” “I am not.” “What he’s become has been good to you.” He started walking away from her. Yes it had. Without her father’s hard work in building a struggling label into a world power, she’d have nothing to offer her girls but a kind ear and a lot of empty promises. “Well thank you for letting me know.” She called out to his retreating oh so fine butt. He stopped and turned around as if he were waiting for her. “Just being honest.” Well thank you so much, she thought as she caught up to him. She did so only because she realized she’d have to walk back to the house and she had no idea where she was exactly. “What brought this on?”He stared down at her with those accusing blue eyes. “Because I can’t figure out your angle.” “Maybe I don’t have one.” Oh she had an angle alright; she just had no desire to share it with him. He opened the truck door and she climbed in. Then he scooped up Matisse and handed him to her. “We all have one.” “Maybe it’s just a job well done.” In theory that sounded good. 248

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 e walked around the truck and got into his side and jammed the key H into the ignition and turned the car on. “Not buying that.” She set Matisse on the floor and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Fine by me.” He pushed the button on the CD player and music filled the truck as the silence between them reigned as he drove back to the house. 

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Chapter Six

 J.B. watched Veronica throwing her clothes in her oversized suitcases. She muttered to herself. Her shoulders were stiff and he could feel the waves of anger radiating off of her. Staring at her he realized he needed to stop her. He questioned himself why, but in his heart he knew. He’d gone ahead and fell in love with her. He loved her. The words came, rolling around in his head, and that made him mad. He didn’t want to love her. She was everything he didn’t want, but she was everything he needed. She was classy, and smart, she had a generous heart and a biting wit. He wanted her to be the mother of his children. He wanted to teach her to ride horses. Hell, he probably wanted to write love songs about her. He was lost. He would sign that contract and churn out the worst songs of his life, if she would even think about staying with him. “Stop staring at me.” He watched her ass wiggle as she rolled up her pants. “This is my house.” He wanted to keep that behind for the rest of his life. God help him and he was willing to do just about anything to do it. “I haven’t forgotten that. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be out of here ... for good.” “We need to talk.” She threw her lucky shoes into the bag. “I think we’ve said everything we needed to say.” He stomped into the room and stepped in front of her blocking her from putting another pair of shoes in suitcase. “I’m not done.” She whirled around facing him. “You want to know what my angle is?” “Yeah, I do.” Did he? That would crush all his illusions. She put her hands on her hip and stuck her chin out as if daring him to do something. “Twenty-five million over the next five years, if I convinced you to sign a contract.” Did he hear her right? “What?” She licked her bottom lip. “My father said he would donate twentyfive million dollars to my foundation if you’d record for his label.” Rage coursed through him. She was like every other record exec he’d 250

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ever had the misfortune to meet. “I shoulda known.” “Happy now?” She turned her face away from him. At least she looked ashamed. Not that it mattered. She’d done it anyway. “Did you sleep with me to butter me up?” “What do you think?” “I don’t know.” A tear rolled down her cheek before she turned back to her packing. “Twenty-five million didn’t even cover the kiss.” “I want you gone in ten minutes.” That was all he could think to say before he turned and walked out of the room. He hurried out of the house. His chest was tight. Pain shot through his entire body. For a second he thought he was having a heart attack. He caught his breath. It wasn’t a heart attack. It was just a heart break.

w  eronica looked at the double doors that led to her father’s office. She V felt as though her heart had fallen into her stomach. She was a failure. A complete and utter failure. She failed her girls, she failed her father, she failed J.B. but most of all she’d failed herself. “He’s in.” She turned and looked at her father’s secretary and plastered a big fake smile on her face. “Thank you.” She was hoping he would be out dating some pop tart and she could just leave him a note. Matisse whined. She looked down at him and thought, ‘at least someone loves me.’ Taking a deep cleansing breath she prepared to face her failure head on. She just needed to walk in there, throw herself on her sword and hope for mercy, but she’d settle for understanding. She didn’t expect either, her father did not tolerate failure well. As she took slow steps to the door, her heels clicked on Italian marble floors, she grabbed the handle and opened the door. He was sitting at his desk with his feet propped on the desk and speaking into a headset. He didn’t speak to her but pointed to the chair in front of his desk. Veronica walked over and sat. She placed her purse on the floor and Matisse sat next to her purse. After five excruciating minutes, he finished his call and turned to her. “Did you get J.B. Devlin to sign a contract?” Veronica opened her mouth, but nothing came out. 251

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“ Well?” She began to tremble and tears started welling up in her eyes. She had been able to hold them in until this moment. One tear slipped over and she felt it meander down her cheek. “Veronica?” He stood and walked around his desk. “Baby, what happened?” “Oh Daddy, I’m so sorry.” She pressed her hand against her trembling lips. Oh God, she was in love with J.B. And she had ruined it all. He took her face in both his large hands. “What happened?” “I went and fell in love with him.” Matisse let out a low whine and jumped up putting his paws on her knees. Absently, she patted his head. “What?” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a snow white handkerchief and wiped her tears away. “I didn’t get him to sign and then I went and fell in love with him.” She bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean to fail you, I’m so sorry.” “Ronnie, that’s not important.” Her eyes widened at the pet name. He hadn’t called her Ronnie since her mother died. “Daddy?” “I’m gonna kill him.” He stood. She grabbed his wrist. “No!” Her father bristled with anger as the vein on his forehead popped out. “No worthless piece of trailer park trash breaks my baby’s heart.” She grabbed his free hand. “Please, Daddy, it’s all my fault.” “No it’s not.” “I told him the truth.” What man would want her after he found out he had a bounty on his head. “About what?” “Why I wanted him to sign with you.” Her father shrugged. “So.” “He didn’t think I had an angle.” “Everyone has an angle.” “Not him.” She dabbed the tears on her cheek. “Then I went and fell in love with him in three days. How stupid is that?” Her father squatted next to her. “I fell in love with your mother the first time I saw her,” he said softly. 252

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 or the first time in a long while, her father let her see how much he F loved her mother. This was the father she loved. The man she missed so much. “You did?” “There she was at the Apolla and I just knew.” He kissed her forehead. “Its not stupid, baby.” “Oh, Daddy, what am I going to do?” “Baby, I’m going to fix this.” He dabbed her cheeks with his hankie. “It’s all my fault.” No one could fix this. Not even time. “No. The money was just too tempting. J.B. told me I’m just letting the ends justify the means. That was wrong of me. I just made a mess of everything. For you, for my girls, for myself. And J.B. must feel as if I was just using him.” “What do you want me to do?” She tried to smile. “I don’t know. I’m just glad you understand.” “I’m your daddy, of course I understand.” “Thank you. At least something positive came out of my trip.” He tilted his head. “What?” She took a big breath. It was time to forgive her father. He deserved her love, not her scorn. He was the person he was. And if her mother could love him, she could forgive him. “I decided I’m not going to be mad at you anymore. I’ve been a petulant child long enough.” “I understood. I wasn’t the father I used to be.” “You did your best.” “I could have done better. I was just lost without your mama. I just buried myself in work.” “And I kept myself occupied by being mad at you.” “We wasted a lot of years.” “I know. Are you disappointed in me?” He shook his head. “Never.” He smiled. “You know what, I have to go to Diddy’s launch party this weekend, but on Monday, I can book two tickets to Paris and we can spend a week doing everything you like. Tickets to the Opera, the Louvre, I’ll take you to Dior for your birthday.” She had her daddy back. “You remember?” “Girl’s week in Paris, you mother and you used to count the days. Maybe it’s something you and I can start doing together.” “Thank you. I love you so much.” 253

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 arvin Kennedy actually reached down and patted Matisse on the M head. “And you can even bring the mutt.” Matisse barked. He loved fresh baked croissant.   w  eronica ran her hand across the handwoven Chinese silk duvet cover. V The vermillion colored material felt heavenly under her hands. My God, her father knew how to live. The private jet he bought himself for his fiftieth birthday was the epitome of living in the lap of luxury. He had the master bedroom suite decked out like a Chinese brothel befitting an emperor. She rather liked the dramatic statement. Her father must have brought his pop tarts here to impress them. She hit the intercom button on the dresser. “Simmons.” “Yes, Miss Veronica?” Only her dad would hire a butler who could make the queen sound like she was from the hood. “I would like lunch as soon as we’re able.” “Would you care for the roast duck or Waldorf Salad?” She could get a salad any day, but Chef Yuri’s duck was one of her favorites. “As if you have to ask.” “I am nothing if not efficient, Miss Veronica. I was testing you. I already ordered the duck for you and your father’s lunch.” God bless his English behind. “Speaking of my father, where are you hiding him?” He was late and he was never late. She’d been in the plane for almost half an hour waiting for him to arrive, so they could take off and spend a week in Paris, getting reacquainted. “He called a few moments ago. He was delayed, but is on his way.” Veronica reached for her handbag to get her cell to make sure he was truly on his way. She knew he should have arrived from Miami late yesterday evening after the launch party. He’d left her a cryptic message saying he would see her later. Matisse’s head popped up and he leaped off the bed and ran to the door separating the bedroom from the main cabin. He jumped and began pawing the door. Veronica knew her father had made peace with the fact that she had a dog, but Matisse was still miffed to have to see him. She couldn’t believe her dog was this excited. The door opened and J.B. stood in the doorway. 254

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“ J.B.?” He held up his hands. “Surprise.” “What are you doing here?” She could barely breathe. How had this happened? He took off his black leather jacket and tossed it over a red leather chair. “Catching my flight to Paris.” She wanted to pinch herself to make sure this wasn’t a dream. “But...” Running a hand through his shaggy blond hair, he smiled. “Your daddy flew down to Texas this weekend.” Oh that liar. She was going to have to remind herself to be mad at her father. “Why?” “To threaten me with the New York City version of a shot gun wedding.” Her father was taking his reputation too far. She was really going to have a long talk with him. “He threatened you with a gun?” “No, but he did bring two guys called Big Tiny and A Dawg.” He smiled. “I think they were carrying.” Her father wasn’t messing around. “Oh my God.” Her hands covered her mouth. She was just happy J.B. was alive. “Tell me something darlin’, how does a man who is six foot five get the name Big Tiny?” J.B. put a knee on the bed. His warm outdoorsy scent enveloped her. He was here for her. He wanted her back. “Because his twin brother, Little Tiny is six foot three and five minutes younger.” Patting Matisse on the head, J.B. crawled over the big bed to her. “Well that makes sense in a New York City kinda way.” As she watched him heat clenched her stomach. “If Little Tiny’s wife wasn’t due to have her baby at any moment he would have just brought him and wouldn’t have needed anyone else. Little Tiny has anger issues, consider yourself lucky.” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Why are you here?” She just had to hear him say the words. “Because I’m a stupid man.” He backed her against the bed’s headboard. Reaching up she touched his face. His skin was smooth and comforting. “No you’re not.” 255

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“ I let the best thing that ever happened to me slip through my fingers.” “I used you for twenty-five million dollars.” J.B. leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “For your girls.” “That was the ends justifying the means.” A shiver went through her. “Those were your exact words.” He nipped her earlobe. “Darlin’, I’m a dumb country boy, whose feelings got hurt.” She moaned. “You were right.” “Do you like me?” “Yes.” “Is the sex great?” He had to ask? “My thong is still on fire.” The top button was undone by his clever hands. “Do you love me like I love you?” Slowly he slipped a hand inside her shirt and gently squeezed her breast. “God, yes.” “Now here’s the big question.” Her eyes widened. Was he going to pop the question? Veronica held her breath. Leaning over, he whispered in her ear. “Do you want to be a member of the Mile High Club?” She reached over and fumbled around until she found the intercom button. “Simmons, hold lunch.” “Of course, Miss Veronica.” 

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Epilogue Veronica pulled up to the dark house. Well not quite dark. She could see a muted light in the nursery. She should have called and let J.B. know she decided to come home one day early, but she knew with the foaling season, he was working dawn until dusk. She didn’t need to stay until Monday. The charity ball for her foundation had gone off without a hitch and they’d raised a ton of money. Her job was done, she wanted to be home with her husband and her daughter Andrea. Funny she now considered Texas home, maybe because the two things she loved the most were here. She unlocked the door and took her one bag to the bedroom. In the corner Digger and Matisse snored as they curled up next to each other. Those two had formed a bond she would never understand. She slipped off her shoes and walked barefoot to the nursery. Gently opening the door she slipped inside to find J.B. standing over the crib. She hurried over and slipped her arms around his waist. She planted a kiss between his naked shoulder blades. “You’re home early.” Pressing her face against his skin she inhaled. He smelled of Texas, sunshine and man. She’d missed his scent while she was away. “I wanted to get here before your wife came home.” His body shook with silent laughter. “Don’t talk too loud, she’s a New York City girl. She’s tough.” “Not tough enough to stay away from you for one more day.” His hands slipped over hers. “I’m glad she not that tough.” “Did you sleep or just stand here watching her?” “Half the time I just took her to bed with me.” Her love for J.B. welled up in her heart. She didn’t know it was possible to be this happy. “My dad sends his best. He’s coming for the fourth of July.” “Good the new album will be done by then.” A few months after they married, he’d started singing again. He told her that when he’d found her, he’d found his music again. “That will make Daddy’s year.” “I’m not touring.” 257

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 ood she didn’t want him gone for those long months on the road. G “No one says you have to. He’s just happy you’re singing again. He plans to launch a global media blitz. Like he did for Ward.” J.B. turned around and took her face in his hands. “I don’t want to talk about work.” She didn’t either. “What do you want to talk about? How much I missed you. How lonely New York was? How glad I am to be home?” J.B. bent his head and trailed his lip along her neck. “I think you should show me all those things.” Slipping her hands over his butt, she sighed. “What are we going to do with our mouths if we’re not talking?” As if she didn’t know. “Beside kissing you all over, I was going to turn on the charm and talk you into making another baby.” “Let me slip into a quick shower and then I’ll put on my lucky shoes. Then you can talk to me all you want.” He laughed against her neck. “I am a lucky man.” She was the lucky one. “Yes, cowboy you certainly are.”

       

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The End