Wild Irish (Book 1 of the Weldon Series)

• Title Page
  
• CHAPTER TWO
  
• CHAPTER THREE
  
• CHAPTER FOUR
  
• CHAPTER FIVE
  
• CHAPTER SIX
  
• CHAPTER SEVEN
  
• CHAPTER EIGHT
  
• CHAPTER NINE
  
• CHAPTER TEN
  
• CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
• CHAPTER TWELVE
  
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
• CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
• CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
• CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
• CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
• Epilogue
  

Wild Irish

JenniLeigh Grizzle

Copyright JenniLeigh Grizzle 2009

Published by Between Your Sheets Publishing, LLC at Smashwords

ISBN-13: 978-0-9824863-2-0

ISBN-10: 0-9824863-2-4

Edited by Dayna Linton

Cover by Dayna Linton

Photography by Annette Batista

Cover Models Jeremy Rivenburg and Victoria Julison

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any way without written permission.

First Between Your Sheets Publishing, LLC electronic publication: December 2009

www.betweenyoursheets.com

This book is copyright protected. It cannot be sold to another party, shared with others, or given away as those acts would infringe upon the copyright of this work and deprive the author and publisher of compensation for their hard work.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Wild Irish may be a light, sexy read, but a huge amount of work and effort was involved in bringing it to you as a romance graphic e-book and betweenyoursheets.com’s first release. I would like to thank all of those involved in making this release possible. Annette Batista for her creative genius with a camera. Dayna Linton for her hard work through good times and bad to make betweenyoursheets.com a success. Tracy Clark for her unfailing support, hard work, and for sticking to it no matter what life throws her way. No one could ask for a better sister and publicist. To PJ Ausdenmore for having a sharp eye, fabulous insight, and a big, giving heart. And many thanks to cover models Victoria Julison and Jeremy Rivenburg for their grueling hours and hard work to bring the characters of Alexandria Jordan and Jesse Weldon to life. May your share of the proceeds for these books help you to achieve your dreams.

Chapter One

“
Lexi, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“
Please, Jesse.” She pressed her yearning body against him. “Please.”

“
Damn,” he whispered. “Just damn.” He kissed her back then. Kissed her all the way back to her bed.

No! No! No! For the first time in her adult life, Alexi considered screaming. She wasn’t going to let it happen. She wasn’t going to let the passionate nudes before her sweep her back to a time she just needed to forget. Standing up, she carried each of the five photographs on their easels across her office and faced them away from her desk, firmly telling herself they meant nothing more to her than a profitable donation for the upcoming charity art auction. Then she marched to her desk and concentrated on the papers in front of her, but her body continued to throb like the distant beat of a drum calling her to respond to its needs—to respond to a long ago memory of heart pounding passion and--

“
We got naked for nothing,” Nancy Miller said, sauntering into the art gallery’s office. “The whole purpose in indulging in steaming seaweed wraps, honey waxings, and body massages was for you to relax. But you’ve done the opposite. How much longer are you going to sit here and worry?”

Heat flushed Alexi’s cheeks over the minutes she’d wasted staring at the nudes rather than searching for a forgotten detail. She sent Nan her best please-forgive-me smile. “I’m sorry. It’s my last night as a bachelorette and I am wasting our time.”

“
I’d tell you that’s what best friends are for, but then we might be here all night.”

Alexi had to smile. “I’ll hurry.” The sensation that something was wrong grew stronger with every passing hour. She was sure she’d overlooked something vital in her lists of instructions for overseeing her art gallery and preparation for the upcoming charity auction. She’d be gone for the next week on her honeymoon, leaving very little time to get ready for the auction when she returned. “Give me three more minutes.”

“
I’m setting my watch.”

“
Better yet,” Alexi pointed to the easels she’d moved across her office. “Take a look at those and tell me what you think. I’ll be finished by the time you are.”

“
No problem.” Nan walked over to the photographs and Alexi concentrated on the lists. If she could find just one thing out of order, she could get rid of this cloud of anxiety hanging over her head, this sense that something wasn’t as it should be. She lived life within the boundaries of perfection and never dared to step out of line—at least she hadn’t since she was seventeen, but
that
she’d sworn not to think about.

“
Wow. I’m hot, bothered, and riveted. These pictures are something.” Nan sounded impressed. "I'm going to have to think about bidding for them myself. It’s like looking at Adam and Eve’s love story. Adam is unbelievable. With models like that, I think I’ll add art to my when-I have-time to do list.”

“
I’d hire an Adam for you if I thought you’d work less.”

“
If I found an Adam, maybe I’d work less and take pictures. But they’d never be this good. It’s not just him: it’s the whole effect of him with her that makes the pictures so moving, so passionate. You get a real sense of why Adam gave up Eden for Eve by eating the apple.”

“
The collection is titled “The Sum of All Things.”

“
Did the photographer mean that love and passion
are
the meaning
of
life, or that love and passion
add
meaning
to
life?”

“
Congratulations.”

“
What?” Frowning, Nan looked up from the pictures.

“
You passed the test. Everybody who looks at the photos gets caught up in the philosophical allegory of them as Adam and Eve and forgets they are nudes that show life-changing passion.”
Except for you. You look at the pictures and think… Jesse. No. You can’t. Not now.
Still, even though she knew she shouldn’t, Alexi walked over to Nan, drawn to take one more look at the photos before she left. As before, the sense of disquiet inside her grew. Just because the model bore a likeness to Jesse Weldon shouldn’t make her feel this way. Lord, over the years she’d seen a number of dark-haired blue-eyed devils and didn’t even get a blip on her radar screen. So why did the nudes grip her? Was it the vibrant sensuality of them?

“
I hate to say it, but the reason for your anxiety might be right here in front of you and not a forgotten detail about the auction.”

Alexi narrowed her gaze. “What do you mean?”

“
The same thing I said before. You and Roger are marrying because it’s expected. You’re anxious because you’re about to marry a man you’re not passionate over.”

No, Alexi shook her head. She wouldn’t even consider Nan’s suggestion. She turned from the pictures and grabbed her purse ready to get out of there. “You don’t understand,” she said, frowning at Nan. “Roger and I have something better. We’re friends. Believe me, I learned a long time ago that friendship and trust are more important than passion.”

She was not having cold feet. Her feet were warm, almost too warm. And she wasn’t anxious about the wedding. She felt perfectly calm about
that.

Southern Society would talk about the Holstead-Jordan wedding for years to come. Alexi’s grandmother had settled for nothing but the best, and had gotten it. She considered herself southern royalty and she lived life accordingly.

Nan didn’t say anything and Alexi felt compelled to explain as they exited the art gallery and she keyed on the alarm system. “Roger is considerate, supportive about my career and the time I spend volunteering at the hospital. We’re comfortable with each other. Not passionate. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No. Nothing is wrong with friendship and trust.” Nan moved to the end of the sidewalk.

Alexi sighed, relieved that she’d made her point. “Exactly.”

“
But have you ever dreamed of more, or felt more for someone else?”

“No. Never.” Alexi stepped from the curb and a motorcyclist roared past. She jumped back; her heart racing as her memory leapfrogged her into the past again, calling her a liar.

She’d been at a debutante ball and had made a wrong turn in her search for the ladies room. A group of obnoxiously drunk preppies had decided she needed to accompany them to their room. She’d escaped from them with a torn dress and bruised illusions when she’d ducked through a maintenance door. Unfortunately, that left her stranded outside the hotel in a dark alley. Frightened, she’d run toward the lighted street and accidentally darted in front of a motorcyclist, who’d nearly crashed to avoid hitting her.

“
What in the hell are you doing? I almost killed you,” he’d yelled, getting off his bike after he’d come to a screeching halt.

She’d looked at him, so tall, dark, dangerous, and angry, and burst into tears.

“
Damn, are you hurt?” His long legs ate up the street before she could move.

“
Hey,” he said, reaching out to her. She flinched.

“
My God, I won’t hurt you. Talk to me. What’s happened?” He must have seen her torn dress, because he suddenly scooped her up, cursing about castrating some bastard who could do such a thing. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you help. You’re safe now.”