Now, Please (14 page)

E
xcerpt
:

“Good morning, beautiful.”

My eyes fluttered open as dim sunlight streamed in through the windows. The air had that “early morning smell” that said it was way too early to have my eyes open.

Hunter stood by my bed holding a tray with legs. I could just make out a small white vase with a flower, and the rim of a glass. The smell of bacon wafted toward me.

“Hi.” I rubbed my eyes, trying to get the sleep out. “What time is it?”

“It’s five thirty. I need to drop you off at home on my way into the office.”

“Why do you go to work so early?” I coughed, trying to wake up my vocal cords.

“I’m hoping I can actually concentrate today. I need to get some things ironed out for this takeover. Here, Mrs. Foster made you breakfast.”

In another situation I might’ve whined about getting up, and then stayed securely under the covers for another fifteen minutes, but with a tray of breakfast being presented to me I wasn’t about to complain. I scooted up and braced the pillows behind me, suddenly wide awake. “She must work really long hours.”

Hunter’s grin left me star-struck for a moment, as I took in his handsomeness. It was almost as pleasant seeing him first thing in the morning as having breakfast delivered.

“She must like when I entertain, which was why the late night, but she’s usually here early.”

Hunter put the tray over my lap and laid one of his shirts next to it. Then he leaned over and gently touched his lips to mine. As he was about to back away, he must have decided better of it, and connected a little more firmly. His hand touched the back of my head as he nibbled my lips, moaning softly. When he stood up, a small smile touched his lips again. “
That
I have never had.” He brushed my hair back from my face. “A woman to wake up to.”

He gazed at me with soft brown eyes for a moment longer. With another small smile, he gestured to my tray and turned to walk away. “Eat. It’s getting cold.”

I didn’t have to be told twice.

As I ate, I reflected on my luck to have ended up in Hunter Carlisle’s bed. Yes, he had problems, and some serious baggage in the form of a contractually obligated fiancée, but he was trying to open up. He’d admitted last night that he wanted to try and have a relationship.

I was all for it. Right after I ate breakfast.

A half-hour later I sat back and looked out the window, and finally decided I should get up. I’d thought Hunter would be encouraging me to get moving, but he’d gone downstairs shortly after delivering breakfast and hadn’t returned. I figured I should be a big girl before he got irritated and said I couldn’t come back.

I glanced at my pile of clothes, and then at his pajama bottoms and shirt. I should wear one set, but I wanted to wear the other. As it was my first time over here, and I really wanted to come back, I reached for my own clothes. Testing the boundaries would have to wait until next time.

I shrugged into my jeans, a pleasant soreness from last night acting as a reminder, and walked a few steps to glance in the mirror.

I flinched.

I had black smudges under my eyes, my hair looked like I’d stuck my finger in an electric socket, and one side of my face still had a light dusting of blush.

“After seeing this face, he’ll rethink wanting normal.” I cleaned myself up as best I could, using the tried and tested method of licking the pad of my finger and wiping it under my eye to remove the black. I tied my hair back and picked up my handbag.

All was quiet outside Hunter’s room. I made my way downstairs, too shy to call out, as we weren’t the only ones there. I didn’t want to alert the fiancée to my whereabouts. He wasn’t in the living room, nor in the dining room. I popped my head in the kitchen and found Mrs. Foster wiping down the counters.

“Have you seen Hunter?” I asked in a tiny voice.

She glanced up with raised eyebrows. “Oh. Good morning. Yes, he’s in the library.”

“Great, thanks.” I turned to leave before remembering my manners. I turned back. “And thanks for breakfast. It was delicious.”

“No problem, sweetie. That’s my job.” She smiled at me before returning to her task.

I should’ve probably brought down the empty tray.
Oops.

I headed off toward the area of the house I hadn’t seen to yet. I figured that was where I would find the library. As I got halfway down the hall, I heard voices raised in an argument. I slowed down.

“Blaire, I gave permission for visitors of a sexual nature—I did
not
give permission for sex parties. You can spend your time how you will, but in my house, there will be boundaries.”

“Oh, really?” a girlie voice spat back at what was definitely Hunter. “As I recall, you didn’t specify any of this in your precious
contract.
”

“
If you look at the detail, you will see that I covered any acts that might reflect badly on my dealings in a social or business aspect. My housemate having wild orgies, participating in flogging, bondage, self-mutilation, among other things, is not something I want your strangers spreading around my circles of influence.”

“Your live-in
housemate?
You arrogant prick! What happened to
fiancée
?”

“This is a business arrangement, Blaire, between your father and mine. I went along with it to attempt to cut my father out of my life. This was understood in the negotiations that you sat in on. Since he has
not
been cut out of my life—he’s more in it now than before this agreement—I’ll be looking into a breach of contract.”

“Is that right?” she snapped with a cutting and snide voice. “So let me get this straight. You won’t fuck me, but you don’t want anyone else fucking me, either? What am I supposed to do, take up a monk robe?”

I heard a sigh that was distinctly Hunter’s. “I’m not saying to stop having sex, Blaire. I’m saying go about it with some discretion, or take it somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else? I live here, too,
Mister
Carlisle. And don’t think I don’t know what’s going on here. Your cook told me all about your pretty little piece of ass. She was trying to throw it in my face, the bitch. I’ll bet that’s the street trash secretary I’ve heard about, right? You’re not only fucking the hired help, now you’re bringing them around?”

I withered against the wall. I should really turn around and walk away. I didn’t need to hear any of this. At the same time, the roadblock that was Blaire, and the contract she represented, was now very clear. She might not love Hunter, but she wanted him. She didn’t sound like a girl that was happy not getting what she wanted.

“Watch yourself there, Blaire,” Hunter was saying in a low and dangerous tone.

Blaire scoffed. “So it is her. That’s your type, is it? Sweet and naive. I should’ve known. Men like you don’t want sexually enlightened; you want the dumb little virgin that you can lead around by the nose. Well
fuck you
,
Hunter Carlisle. If I can’t have any fun, neither will you. If you keep bringing her around, I’ll make your life hell, you got that? I’ll show up at your business lunches, I’ll spread nasty rumors around your social circle—if you try to trade me in for a troll like that, so help me God, you will rue the day!”

A beat of silence passed before Hunter said, “Are you done?”

“Not even remotely, you controlling piece of shit. Not even remotely.” I heard the pounding of bare feet on wood before a wild-eyed woman emerged from the room along the hall. I sucked in a breath at her beauty. Hunter might’ve called it manufactured, but everyone else would call it model-worthy. Long blond hair framed her heart-shaped face in a series of waves. Her full lips, colored deep red, were currently pressed tight. Bright blue eyes and high cheekbones made her stunning. A long silk robe parted at the front, revealing a slim body with large, perky breasts and a cleanly shaved pubic area. She’d been fighting virtually in the nude. It hadn’t slowed her down at all.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?” She slowed in her sensuous walk, not bothering to pull her robe closed. “If it isn’t our deflowered little princess…”

I stayed frozen against the wall for a moment, terrified for reasons I couldn’t explain.

“Come to find your master?” She stopped in front of me. Her hip jutted out.

I tore my eyes away from her bald pubic area, and then her exposed breasts. I really wasn’t used to being confronted by naked people.

“Excuse me,” I said, trying to slide along the wall like a coward, trying to sneak past. Her eyes shone with a maniacal flare that said she was capable of extremely damaging things. I didn’t think rules bothered her, and I knew I would be the target if she decided to torch someone’s house while that someone was tied up inside.

“What’s sad is, you think he actually likes you. Let me fill you in, sweetheart. Hunter Carlisle doesn’t like anyone but himself. He is a selfish bastard with a giant ego, and he wants a fixer-upper to drape across his arm to appear like one of the
people.
To seem like one of his workers. You’re Cinderella for now, but you’ll be old news tossed in the garbage when he has what he wants.”

“Blaire!” Hunter’s voice boomed through the hallway. I jumped.

A vicious smile spread across Blaire’s face as she beheld me. “Watch your back—I may decide to stick a knife in it. I would hate it to be a surprise."

She took a small canister out of the pocket of her robe and unscrewed the top. Turning toward Hunter, she poured a little line of white powder onto the skin between her thumb and forefinger. She threw Hunter a malicious glare before bending her head down and snorting up the line. She wiped her nose with her thumb before screwing the top back on the canister. She smirked. “Oops. Another rule broken.”

With a last scathing look at me, she turned and sauntered away.

“I’m sorry about that,” Hunter said in a troubled voice. “She’s never been one to maneuver, but I’m starting to think her father was offloading her, rather than securing her a comfortable future.”

“She’s…precious.” I tucked a flyaway behind my ear and leaned against the wall. “And she’s always here?”

Hunter’s gaze turned to me. He closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his body. “Yes, unfortunately. She doesn’t work, and she doesn’t have a place of her own. Part of the deal was that she’d move out of her father’s house and live with me. I think she thought I’d buckle and become a husband, of sorts. One like my father was. I’ve disappointed her.”

“Then why doesn’t she want to find someone else?”

“Money.” Hunter kissed the crown of my head.

“So…you’re locked in?” I couldn’t prevent the hollowness in my voice.

Hunter squeezed me tighter. “I’ll figure something out.”

As Hunter led me to the library, my mind started whirling. He might be able to figure something out, but if that woman didn’t get what she wanted, I’d be the first she’d blame.

I remembered the vicious, manic look to her eye and shivered. It was a pretty safe bet that she was capable of terrible, malicious acts. If Hunter brought me here again, she’d probably find ways to make trouble. I’d made a terrible enemy, one likely to be as unpredictable as she was dangerous.

Cold hands of fear crept through my body. I’d have to be on my guard, but would that be enough?

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Back in the Saddle, grab it free
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S
ynopsis
:

O
n the tail
end of another heartache, Jessica decides she’s had enough. Enough parties, enough mistakes, and enough of this rut she’s thrown herself into. She leaves L.A. for a job in Texas to wipe the slate clean.

If only it were that easy.

Not one night in Texas and she meets the most ruggedly handsome cowboy she’s ever seen. William Davies has it all: wealth, prestige, and any woman he wants. He’s way out of her league.

But he’s never met a sassy girl like her before.

Sparks fly as opposites attract in this laugh out loud romance.

E
xcerpt
:

I
pulled
into the parking lot of something called the Piggly Wiggly. As my car rolled toward the large, boxy store, I got a moment of indecision. I could literally park anywhere. Up close, further away, down the block–
anywhere!
I hadn’t seen this much parking since I showed up to school on a holiday without knowing it.

Spoiled, I chose one near the door. Why not, right? I didn’t need to walk if I didn’t want to. Or fight for any spaces. What a luxury!

Halfway to the entrance I realized I forgot my list. I stopped dead and tilted my head up, trying to remember when I’d last had it … Wait, I should have it …
Some
where…

Lifting my bag away from my shoulder with one strap, I dove to the bottom, fishing out a small, crinkled list. As I rummaged, feeling like the bag was swallowing my arm, I heard a deep male baritone say, “Ma’am.”

One, not being familiar with that phrase, and two, wondering if someone was talking to me, which was very un-L.A., and hence, very strange for me, I gave a quick questioning glance in the speaker’s direction. I met a plaid chest. Obviously a little closer than I thought.

I still had my hand stuck at the bottom of my over-sized, over-filled handbag, walking lop-sided with no real perspective on where I was in relation to the door, when I looked up and met two deep blue eyes in the most breathtakingly, ruggedly handsome face I had ever seen. Watch out Marlboro man, you ain’t got nothin’ on this cowboy!

His blue eyes caught my focus and drew me, holding me prisoner in a place where time did not exist. As I fell in, lost, I felt many things happen at once. My skin erupted in goose pimples as a shiver crawled down my back. My head went light, giving me the distinct feeling I was floating. Thank goodness, because my legs wobbled, not sure if I had control over my knees anymore. Topping it off, a suddenly warm, wet sensation pooled in my groin that craved sudden and fervid contact.

I think I muttered something. I really think I heard my voice, but I was too consumed with his eyes, and the burning taking over my body, to be sure. I think I kept walking, but when you lose the feeling in your legs, it’s anybody’s guess.

The slide of the electronic door right in front of me fed an alarm through my brain, but too late. My foot caught the end and jerked my whole body. My purse went flying, the items in it splashing the cement. Limbs flapping, I tried to maintain balance only to wildly stumble and bodily greet the display of large children’s balls. The flimsy white cage couldn’t compete with my a-bit-more-than-average (ahem) weight. It bent madly, the hole for extracting balls gaping. Florescent spheres gushed out everywhere, the balls sensing freedom and going for it.

“Oh crap!” My stumble, which had started with the door, and continued through the ball stand, took me to a painful slide on my knees.

No time to lose!

I was up like a pogo stick, running madly after pretty little balls dotting the outside entryway of the store.

“Who puts displays by the door?” I muttered in extreme embarrassment regardless of the fact that displays were standard the world over.

Why me?

As I captured two strangely hard to hold on to balls, the first staff member rushed out of the door.

“Is everyone all right?” It was a young kid with concern written across his face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” I gushed, dumping the balls in the cage and wrestling with the opening so they wouldn’t just come rolling out again.

Seriously,
why me?

Another staff member came bustling out, a portly woman with a fantastic bee-hive. Her gaze swept the area, landing on me. My stomach tightened up as I stood in the wake of a self-made natural disaster.

Hurricane Jessica.

“I’m so sorry! I’m really sorry!” I bleated.

I braced myself for the rant. For the store owner to barge out, yelling about the mess. Threatening me with a counter-suit if I even dared think of a lawyer. He would chase me out of the store, my backside a welcome sight in the wake of the mess. I would then go to the next grocery store where I wouldn’t be known for disturbing the peace.

Only problem was, I wasn’t in L.A., and I had no idea where another shop was. They weren’t on every corner in this neck of the woods.

Beehive-lady clutched my arm as I stooped for more balls. “Don’t worry yourself none.” She escorted me to the side as the young guy went about straightening the ball cage. Her eyes glanced over my body and lingered on my knees, a small tear marring my jeans. “You alright? You hurt yourself?”

“Oh no, no no! I’m okay. Seriously. Just wasn’t paying attention.” I brushed my bruised knees in an effort to wipe off the scuffs.

“Here, come over here and have a seat. Are you sure you’re okay?”

She gestured me to a wood bench next to a small flower display. In shock, I took two steps, carried away by her concern. It took logic to still my feet.

Why the hell wasn’t she mad? I’d just rumbled through and blasted a stand of kids’ balls!

That sounded wrong.

The brown haired guy was picking up the balls now, but making quick, worried glances in my direction. He wore the same mask of alarm, probably worried I’d set fire to the place next, or something else equally outlandish. No telling what I was capable of, really.

I needed to fast forward this scene. My embarrassment was out of hand.

“No, no. Oh my God, really, I’m fine. I’m just clumsy and totally ridiculous! I have no idea what happened. Sorry for the mess!
Really!
”

My eye scoured the ground. Where the hell was my damn purse? I had taken the tumble in the doorway, but it wasn’t there. That brown-haired staff member was more than halfway done corralling balls, uncovering nothing on the walk-way.

“You don’t worry yourself about no mess,” Beehive-Lady said with her hand on my back, trying to get me to the bench. “Ronnie will have that dealt with in a jiffy. C’mon’ere and have a seat. You sure you’re not hurt?”

“Oh, ha! No,” I said distractedly, frantically searching for my bag and its contents. “I’m good, seriously. Just so sorry for the mess!”

I took a step around Beehive-Lady, scanning the sidewalk, when the Greek God Apollo himself stepped up with my handbag in hand, a devastatingly handsome half-smile filled with mischief lighting up his face. His blue eyes caught and held me, that weird heat returning to my body.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” He tried for a concerned look after a quick glance at Ronnie and Beehive-Lady, but only managed a handsome farcical look instead. “I’m sorry to have startled you. I believe this is yours?” He reached out with my purse.

Must-pull-eyes-away.

God he was so beautiful.

NO! PULL-EYES-AWAY!

I managed to look down at my purse long enough to get my hand on it. It was bigger and fuller than I was used to, because I shoved a bunch of little bits in there when I was moving, and Apollo must’ve had muscles of steel to make the weight seem nonexistent, so when I thought I had hold of it, it plummeted toward the ground.

In his eagerness to help me, Mr. Apollo took a big step toward me, snatching the bag with lightning fast hands before it could spill onto the floor. I was acutely aware of his musty man smell. It wasn’t a clean, fresh out of the shower smell, but like a man that was working outside all day.
Eau d’Homme.
Not BO or anything, but pure
Man
.

My groin burst into flame. A million points of lava erupted across my skin; the heat of him so close, the smell of him, the
man-ness
of him. I couldn’t help a tiny moan escaping my lips before he stepped away nonchalantly.

My God woman, get a grip!
This was all going downhill so fast I had skid marks! Literally. I needed to get the hell out of there. Away from him.

But I didn’t want to.

But I had to! I looked like a mental patient. No hot guy would want to be ten feet from me.

But he was so
hot!

But I smelled. I was here to get a toothbrush. I probably peeled his eyebrows off when my breath hit his face.

Wait…did I talk to him?

I pushed my schizophrenia to the side and about-faced. Along with my body, my face was on fire…of a different kind. Of the
can one person really be this humiliated?
kind. I muttered a quick “thanks,” nodded to Beehive and Ronnie, and turned to go further into the store. Grudgingly, but necessary.

I was such a douche! My first day here and I meet the most ruggedly handsome guy I have ever seen, with manners no less, and eyes that are as deep and bottomless as eternity, and I blow it. It was a fairy tale encounter. Right up until I walked into the door, knocked over a stand of balls, spilled my handbag everywhere…I mean, did I have to go on? I almost dry humped the guy’s leg! I suck. I so suck. What is my problem?! Seriously, what-is-my-
problem
?

Lost in self-incriminating thought, I collected the basics for my new home. I walked into the checkout line, checking my list off item by item in my head, when I felt a presence.

No. Oh no. Not again.

Yes please
, my inner self peeped.

I knifed my inner self immediately.

I knew it was him. I knew it was. I don’t know how I knew—maybe it was the rubbery quality of my legs. Maybe the lightheadedness. Maybe it was the musty, not quite sweaty
eau d’homme
smell. Or, maybe it was the fire combined with goosebumps that once again spread throughout my body. Christ-on-a-crutch, what was going on with me?

Don’t look up. Don’t look up! Be busy. Busy and important. Crap to do. Dinner to cook. Or not. Something to do. Don’t look up.

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ack in the Saddle
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