Ignite Me (A Burning Desire Novel)

BOOK: Ignite Me (A Burning Desire Novel)
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Ignite
Me

By

R.F. Allie

 

 
A Burning Desire Novel

 
 

Table of Contents:

Copyright Page R.F. Allie

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XIX

Chapter XX

Chapter XXI

Chapter XXII

Chapter XXIII

Jenna

Chapter XXV

Chapter XXVI

 
 
 

Copyright 2014
© R.F. Allie

 

All
rights reserved.

 

Editors: Alicia Rupp – Deborah Lewis – Patrice
J. Eason.

 

Cover:
Sabri
Ben
Mlouka

 

www.Sabribenmlouka.com

 

Cover
Model: Sally
Kf
.

 
 
 

No part of this publication may be reproduced,
distributed,

or transmitted in any form or by any means,
including photocopying,

recording, or other electronic or mechanical
methods,

without the prior written consent of the publisher
and author,

except in the case of brief quotations embodied in
critical reviews

and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by
copyright law.

Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of
copyrighted

 
materials in violation of the author’s rights.

Purchase only authorized editions.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
businesses, places, venues, events

and incidents are either the products of the author’s
imagination or used

in a fictitious manner.
The Author acknowledges the trademarked status

and trademark owners of various products and brands
referenced in this

work of fiction.
The use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with

or sponsored by their owners. Any resemblance

There’s a quote by my favorite author that I was
reminded of just recently
,
it goes something like

 

“Imagination is the
voice of daring. If there’s anything godlike about God, it is that.

He dared to imagine
everything.” H. Miller.

 

So
in a few words, I’d like to thank the people who both fueled my imagination,
and took pleasure in reading it.

 

First
of all, the three amazing ladies who kept supporting and lifting my spirits
whenever I was feeling down:

 

Alicia
Rupp, you are a godsend, and I love you for everything you are.

 

Deborah
Lewis, I apologize for my absence, but trust that I learned so much from you,
your strength, and your continuous support. Enjoy your words.

 

Patrice J. Eason, Thank you for the time and passion you
dedicated to Ignite Me. I’m grateful beyond any words.

 

To the people I love and adore.

To the inspiration behind Jude and Ryan.

To the lovely Sarah and her obsession with Landon Davis.

To Faith and Lillian, my first reviewers.

Three Chicks and Their books for sharing
my first book on their blog.

 
 

Finally, to the one who owns my
heart…
Soon, you will know.

 
 

I Love you Mom…

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

More than a
Burning
Desire

 

Sanity is a luxury I could never afford during this time
of the year.

If I’d learned anything in the past two years, especially
since Ryan decided to drop out of college to concentrate on his career, it was
that there was absolutely no point in battling against the stressful
environment around his events.

However, for once, and thanks to Jenna’s addition this
year, I managed an escape route for a moment of calm and solitude – or in
this case – among the roaring car engines and the trade of insults
between angry drivers during rush hour.

I was on my way to pick up the last of jackets and dresses
that remained at the dry cleaners. Even though I tried to regain some balance
from the frenzy back at the showroom, my head was still reeling with the final
details.

I deliberately took the subway to ride back from the show to
my apartment in Chelsea. I needed the time off. Therefore, I got inside
Manhattan’s underground and took advantage of the nonexistent cell-coverage.

It still amazed me that my best friend was having his
preview at The Shwarzman Building. It had been his dream since he had attended
one of his favorite designers’ fashion shows in there. He was only seventeen,
all starry-eyed, stylish, and carrying a sharp dependence to haute couture.

It all became true at the hands of none-other than the man
I loved.

Landon Davis.

Whenever I thought about him, my heartbeats would go into
an acerbic over-ride. It’s been nine weeks – ever since that night, on
top of the Empire State building – when he plunged me into a life I had
never imagined for myself.

I had no common sense when it came to him, and, nor did my
body for that matter. The smallest pondering about his incredible dark gaze and
the enticing way with which he carries himself, would send a jolt of electricity
and a swell of emotions I had no control over.

Mr. Cornwell’s high-pitched greeting brought me back from
my lusting.

I smiled to his speech, complimenting the work of Ryan,
and his attention to details. I was exhausted, and could barely manage more than
a warm thank you on my friend’s behalf. It’s been the craziest two weeks, more
so, since he was previewing both men, and women's collection.

I checked my voicemail and found a message from Jude; he
was informing me that I had to pick up our clothes, and head back quickly. We’re
all getting ready at the backstage to spare more time, rather than dressing-up
at home.

The idea did not please me, not in the least. I had a
severe need to get in a bathtub and scrub the hell out of my deposed skin.
Between work and the show preparations, I couldn’t remember the last time I had
more than a ten-minute shower. In addition, tonight, Landon was flying back for
the show. In fact, he was officially moving here – to be with me.

Well not exactly. I’d recently learned that he had been
preparing the move for a long time. I just happened to quicken the process.
He’d initially postponed it because he had to see the Braden Ellis case through.

That lawsuit had a unique impact on Landon. He’d won
against the pharmaceutical company that had brought the little boy to his
demise, by branding a new drug that caused renal-failure. Landon had recalled
the mother to the stand, during cross-examination, barely two hours after her
son’s funeral. They were both determined to hold accountable every individual
who had contributed to the distribution of the drug. The situation was
impossibly intense; it got so out of control, that the defense attorney had
refrained from any questioning, and suggested a large settlement.

Landon and the Ellis family were adamant about any amount.

By the time they had gotten to the closing arguments, the
fate of the company and its CEO was already sealed. When the press announced
the passing of Braden Ellis, I’d embarked myself on the first flight to
Chicago, to be with Landon, and show him my support. In front of the court,
people were rioting against Bowler pharmaceutical. Organizations, protesters,
journalists, and various security guards were waiting on any mortal that would
come out with an update.

Evelyn came to get me inside, just when Landon was
presenting his closing arguments. It was the most intense fifteen minutes of my
life. I'd never seen him in his work environment, other than the recurring
phone calls, while dealing with his hotel businesses with Alec Avery.

However, that day was an epiphany. I'd gazed through the surface
that caged the lawyer, the business mogul, the bazillionaire, and the dominant
lover, to the most compassionate, and dark complexion of the man inside. I'd
poked further into his soul, and it was only then, that I had finally put a
halt to all my fears about him.

I still couldn't say the words he wanted to hear, and
maybe, that still qualified as fear. But the truth is; no matter how deep I
thought I'd reached into Landon's interior, I still couldn't shake the feeling
that I hadn't even begun to scratch the surface of the armor he was forcefully
wrapped inside. No matter how many times he'd tried, and succeeded to convey
his fondness, he didn't say the words either.

When his eyes fell on me in the courtroom, his expression
had somehow shifted.

It was very endearing, as if my presence alone had helped
to dispel the tension that grew on him. After the closing arguments of the
opposing council, the judge had conveyed the jury, to go back and deliberate.

Landon strode across the room, and took me in a
heart-melting embrace. I hadn't seen him for three days and I was proud of my
decision to go and find him. We walked outside to an even larger crowd than the
one I'd left before going inside the courthouse. They ran in a frantic rush, pushing
one another, as if he were their gateway to paradise. They started shouting out
questions from everywhere. Landon could barely speak; he abstained from any
comment, and then promised a statement as soon as the jury finished their
deliberation. He was completely devastated, and angry. He grew attached to
Braden, and used to visit him every day, whenever he was in Chicago.

I'd felt a big hand grabbing me, and hauling me out of the
crowd. I freaked out before I realized it was 'Smiley Zee'. He came out of
nowhere, and carried me far from the inquisition legion around his boss, and
into the car. He was so tall. His skin was dark, and his eyes never stopped
sparkling to match his broad grin. I could never understand how someone could
always be as happy, and Zen like he always seemed to be.

That day, could easily qualify as the scariest one in my
relationship with Landon. We rode to his hotel in a mortifying silence. He'd
grabbed my hand and stilled it on his lap; all the muscles in his body clenched
repeatedly. I endowed him by keeping to myself, and squeezing his hand back. It
was also an attempt to relieve the smothered blood in my own.

Images and sounds from the court replayed constantly in
the back of my mind. He was staggering in a black Armani suit; he was grieving.
Landon stood powerful and confident. He spoke slowly, and concisely, exposing
his arguments, and rebutting his adversary’s contentions. At some point, he
approached the jury staring at each one of them straight in the eyes. His
fingers skimmed slightly over the mahogany wood bar separating them from the
rest of the room. It was a discreet gesture; yet it stated how strongly he'd
felt about every word, every sentence, and every expression of disdain he threw
towards the defendant and his team of counselors.

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