Challenge Accepted - A Contemporary Romance (13 page)

Colt threaded soft kisses along her neck as he opened the buttons of her shirt. "It does scare me. I'm afraid you won't keep loving me. I'm afraid you'll go on hiding." He punctuated each sentence with the brush of his lips against her sensitive skin.

He pushed back her open shirt, and bent to nuzzle her breast.

Hayley wavered, holding on to him for support. She felt herself drowning, submerged in the magic of his touch.

Her shirt landed on the floor, followed by her bra. She could only hold onto him, rip
ples of pleasure shuddering through her wherever he touched. His callused hands worshiped her breasts, loving each tight nipple gently and without mercy.

"But don't you feel weak?" she gasped as he bent, cupping her in his hands, brushing his mouth over her bare breasts.

"I feel everything with you," he said, his voice guttural as he lifted from her nipple. "But, sweetheart, neither one of us is going to roll over and play dead." Colt urged her backward until she found herself half-sitting, half-lying across a wide, low couch. "We'll fight and argue and love, and maybe in fifty years, you'll trust
yourself
with
me."

The snap on her shorts popped open be
neath his fingers. Hayley looked up at him, her breath ragged and her body crying out for his. "God, you really think I'm strong."

"Yes," he gasped as she reached to help him shuck his shorts. "I think you're damn near invincible."

He stood bare before her, his body proud and aroused. Hayley reached up to draw him down, but he resisted.

"Where do you want me, boss lady?" he whispered, hunger and need raging in his voice.

Hayley lifted on one elbow, startled and unsure.

He knelt in front of where she half-reclined on the couch. "I'm the one that needs you. Tell me how you want me. Tell me what you like. "

Slowly, she straightened into a sitting position, nervousness and exhilaration tangling into one. He knelt on the floor in front of her, waiting, his body taut, his emotions bare.

Hayley drew him to her, shifting to accom
modate him as the heat of his flesh met hers. He trembled as she ran her hands lightly up his muscled arms and traced down his powerful chest. "Any way I want you?" she teased.

"Any
way," he said through gritted teeth as she caressed his taut belly.

She shifted again, easing him toward her, into her, little by little. Colt waited, his body tensed as she set the pace. "I ... want ... you with me," Hayley gasped. "Always."

He surged forward then, wrapping his arms around her in slow loving. Hayley met each thrust, her legs locked around his waist, their union forged in the fire of their desire.

Minutes, maybe hours later, Hayley found her voice. "If I get to be the boss," she said breathlessly, "then I say we do this, oh, for the next fifty years. Together."

"Sounds good to me," Colt agreed, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "But only if you'll make an honest man out of me."

"Could you rephrase that?" she asked, her blood suddenly pounding in her ears.

"Hayley, will you marry me?" he mumbled into the crook of her neck, his arms tightening around her.

"Yes," she breathed out. "And I have a sur
prise for you."

He lifted his head to look into her face.

"What?"

"I called a banker whose daughter I went to school with, and he thinks he can swing a loan for you."

"Wow," he said softly, his lips brushing hers. ''I'm impressed. There's nothing sexier than a woman with power."

Hayley laughed, her heart lighter with each breath as a dizzying sense of happiness filled her. Somehow, magically, in finding Colt, she'd found herself.

About the Author

Carol Rose enjoys writing about everyday real, non-vampire/non-werewolf people falling in love and learning to make relationships work. Call her a rebel, but she feels we all have a better chance at this. Come visit her at her website, www.carolrosebooks.com, and see what else she’s got up her sleeve.

If you liked Challenge Accepted
, please leave feedback saying this. Reviews are welcome!

http://www.amazon.com/Carol-Rose/e/B001KI1OVA/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

~~~********~~~

Enjoy this excerpt of
Always
by Carol Rose

One

All the rough spots in Elinor Prescott's life could be traced back to the same source: money. And here she stood, face-to-face with it.

Across the street, the pale, gleaming limousine sat arrogantly ensconced in the No Parking zone in front of town hall. A highly polished symbol of conspicuous consumption that stood out in the small town of Bayville, Louisiana, like a diamond amidst pebbles.

Elinor felt her hackles rise. No doubt about it, Cole Whittier had come back home with a splash.

She punched the crossing button on the utility pole again, willing the signal light to change. Everything seemed to be conspiring against her today. Even the early-afternoon air held an unusual winter bite, tugging at her skirt and slicing through her sweater. If that darned light didn't change soon, she'd be late for the council meeting.

She didn't even know the man, but she wasn't happy with Cole Whittier. Because of him, the grapevine had buzzed all morning, the phone interrupting her work repeatedly. Clients called on the slim pretext of checking their tax records from 2009, and friends called on no pretext at all.

The light changed, and Elinor hoisted her bulky briefcase, stalking across the intersection.

"Mornin', Miss Elinor!" An elderly lady waited on the other curb, her wrinkled face bright with excitement. "You goin' to the council meeting?"

Elinor sighed to herself. The last thing she wanted to hear was more speculation about Millionaire Whittier. But she didn't have the heart to snap at Mrs. Thibadeaux.

"Yes, ma'am," Elinor responded. "I am."

"I hear that sweet boy, Cole Whittier, is in town." The elderly woman sighed gustily. "He always was such a gentleman."

"So I hear." Elinor smiled, shifting her briefcase to her other hand.

Mrs. Thibadeaux leaned forward conspiratorially. "They say he has lots and lots of money these days," she said in lowered tones. "Did you see that beautiful car?"

A sudden gust of wind sliced through Elinor's sweater. "Yes, ma'am, I did," she said, shivering as she glanced in the direction of Mrs. Thibadeaux's nod.

The older woman clutched her coat tighter. "My, my, that wind's terrible. You should be gettin' inside, honey. I'm sure the meetin' will be starting anytime."

"I know," Elinor said, a hint of irony in her voice as she waved goodbye and turned to walk swiftly to the town hall.

The whole town was buzzing with the news. Hometown boy Cole Whittier was back, and he'd come back a millionaire. The gossips seemed to forget that Elinor hadn't lived in Bayville when Cole Whittier had gone off to seek his fortune fourteen years ago.

She'd only come back to her father's hometown two years before, and only then because her mother had died. Respect for Mama's fee
lings had kept her far from Bayville, but with Mama gone, she'd felt rootless. Coming back to the place that had sheltered her father's family for generations had seemed a natural choice. Seeking out her grandfather, her only living relative, couldn't hurt Mama now.

The small, unremar
kable town of Bayville in northeastern Louisiana had felt like home, even though she'd only visited here once before. And now, for the first time after throwing herself headlong into community life, Elinor felt a twinge of regret. She wasn't looking forward to today's town council meeting.

The last thing she wanted to do was watch Mayor Stephens making a fool of himself drooling all over Cole Whittier's millions.

Elinor pulled open the glass door gratefully and walked past the vacant secretary's desk. Mrs. Nutt would be in the council room, placing neatly stacked agendas and notepaper in front of each place.

Wishing fleetingly that
she had time to freshen her tumbled hair and warm herself, Elinor went swiftly through the hall to the council room. It was better to be wind- tossed and red-nosed than to walk in after the meeting had begun.

The council chamber buzzed with noise as Elinor slipped through the door and unloaded her briefcase into the nearest chair. A cluster of people stood at the back of the room where Mayor Stephens's boisterous voice rang out.

Elinor frowned as she approached the group reluctantly. Beside the mayor stood Cole Whittier. It had to be him, she reasoned, because she knew everyone else in the room. But more than that, he carried the indefinable aura of wealth and power.

He wasn't particularly tall, probably around six feet, with dark-blond hair that emphasized his healthy tan. His charcoal-gray suit reeked of money and fit so well, it only gave hints of Cole Whittier's lean, muscular build.

Cole stood at the back of the chamber, greeting a local businessman, his friendly gaze focused intently as he listened. A confident smile sat comfortably on his face as if he weren't often without it. As Elinor watched, his laugh rang out, deep and genuine.

She felt a zing of awareness zip through her body, his laughter rippling over her like a caress. A sensation of regret shimmered briefly in her. Not only was Cole Whittier loaded with loot, he was also a hunk and a half.

As Elinor slowly drew nearer, Cole Whittier's gaze shifted, slicing past the group around him, to focus on her. The full impact of his scrutiny hit her like a shock-wave. He met her eyes as if homing in on her, as if he'd known she was there all along. Almost as if he'd been waiting for her.

Feeling riveted to the spot, Elinor gazed back, her mind registering his strong features. Her earlier observation had been right; he did smile a lot. The laugh lines bracketing his strong, sensual mouth indicated that. His features were even and pleasant, but his eyes left her wanting to gasp.

They were a deep blue, pure and soft. The kind of eyes women raved about. Movie star eyes. Eyes a woman would remember forever.

But that wasn't all that left Elinor stunned. Beautiful men were nice to look at, but this man was something else. In that moment, with his gaze pinned on hers, Elinor had, for the first time in her practical, down-to-earth life, a brush with ESP.

She knew, absolutely and without reason, that despite his affable exterior, Cole Whittier had a purpose here in Bayville. Without a doubt, he was a man to be reckoned with.

Elinor would have loved nothing more than to forget the formalities of being introduced to the wealthy Mr. Whittier. But the man had seen her standing there and she darned well wasn't going to turn tail and run now.

"Bob . . ." Cole Whittier's voice snagged the mayor's attention. "Introduce me to the lady."

"What?" Mayor Stephens seemed to see Elinor for the first time. "Why, of course. Excuse me, Elly."

Elinor stepped forward, feeling the need to stiffen her backbone in the face of danger.

Mayor Stephens laid a hand on Cole's shoulder. "This is Cole Whittier, Elly. He grew up in Bayville and went off to make his fortune."

"And succeeded very well from what I hear," Elinor murmured before she could stop herself.

A lazy, satisfied smile dawned on Cole's face, his eyes fastened on her once again as the mayor went on with the introduction. "And this here is Elinor Prescott. Elly's one of the Oakleigh Prescotts. You remember Oakleigh, don't you, Cole? Big old antebellum house out near 65? Must be almost a hundred and fifty years old."

"I remember the house." Cole's remarkable eyes darkened. "But I don't seem to recall Elinor." The hesitation before her name was infinitesimal and heavy with inference.

His eyes never appeared
to stray from her face, but Elinor had the impression that he could have described her in the fullest detail, from her apparel to her measurements. The thought irritated her.

"Oh, Elly's like you, Cole. A lost sheep returned to the fold." The mayor laughed heartily. "Only she didn't grow up here. Her papa, Jeffrey Prescott, left right after Elly was born. She just moved back here a few years ago."

The older man hugged Elinor affectionately with one arm. "But even though she didn't grow up here, our Elly's all Prescott. Why, she fits in as if she'd lived here her whole life."

"Thank you, Mayor," Elinor said, his compliment warming her even as she struggled with embarrassment. Cole Whittier couldn't be interested in the comings and goings of the Prescott family.

Cole reached out to take her hand. "It's very nice to meet you, Elinor." Her name rolled off his tongue as if he enjoyed the syllables.

She shook his hand, schooling her fe
atures into a pleasant, meaningless smile. "Lovely to meet you, too, Mr. Whittier."

A flash of amused comprehension lit his face. Elinor suppressed the urge to bite her lip. Darn him. He'd picked up on her prickliness and apparently wasn't holding it against her.