Sloane had turned on a small lamp on the changing table and their eyes met as he turned around, made another trek across the floor. Dani lapsed into tired sniffles and by the fifth circuit up and down her floor, she was quiet. He chanced one look and saw that her face was slack, cheeks rosy and her little mouth puckered.
“Here.” Sloane’s voice was soft and he looked up, saw her waiting with her arms outstretched.
It was as he was placing the baby in her arms that he saw the framed print hanging over the changing table.
Danielle Pierce—
He reached up, touching the glass above the baby’s middle name. “You named her after Pierce.”
“Yes. You and Pierce.”
He froze.
His hand felt slackly to his side as he turned his head, gaping at her.
She cocked her head. “What?” Her voice was low and hushed.
He swallowed and then blindly, turned on one heel and walked out of the room.
He kept right on walking down the stairs and out into the night, pausing only long enough to disarm the alarm system by the back door.
Sloane was right behind him and he turned to stare at her with confused eyes.
“After me and Pierce?”
“Ah…yes?” She rubbed the heel of her hand over her chest. “Her name is Danielle. Your first name is Daniel.”
“I know what my first name is.” He never used it. It was stupid name. Daniel Boone. Seriously. His real name was Daniel Boone Cassidy, Jr—yet another reason to hate his name, because it was his father’s name, too. His father had gone by the name Daniel and Boone had wanted no similarity between them, had even considered changing his name at one point, but decided the asshole wasn’t worth the effort or the money it would have cost. “But how did you know my name?”
“It was on the wedding program,” she said, shrugging. “Is…is there a problem?”
A knot settled in Boone’s chest.
“Why would you name her after me?” he asked, the words tight and rusty-sounding.
She crossed the porch to stand in front of him and then, as he stood there frozen and confused, she rose up onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. “The question is…why wouldn’t I?”
He wrapped his arms around her, hauling her against him. “Sloane,” he choked out.
She murmured his name and skimmed her hand up and down his neck, a soothing, gentle caress.
Hope and terror made a dangerous mix inside him and before he could let himself think about it, he set Sloane away. He started to pace, his long legs eating up the distance with quick, jerky strides. “I want this,” he said, the words tumbling out of him before he could think them through. “I want Dani and I want you and I want this place. I want…”
He stopped at her shaky gasp.
Jerking his head up, he stared at her. “I don’t want to rush you. I know it will take time, but I…I want this. I’ve never really thought much about being…I dunno…happy, but the thought of being here, with both of you…it makes my chest ache and I want it. I’ll do my best to make you happy, if you just give me a chance. I—”
Whatever else he was going to say was smothered against her lips.
She kissed him, on the lips, his cheeks, his nose, his lowered lids and then his lips again. “Yes.”
He caught her arms and forced her back.
She grinned at him, her eyes damp and sparkling.
“…ah…yes?” And his voice cracked.
“Yes…you big idiot.” She shrugged his hands away and then moved in, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’ve been happy before…I know what it’s like. But I also know I’ll be happier with you. With us. I want—”
It was his turn to kiss her, cutting off the flow of words with his mouth.
Sloane sighed against his lips and curled her arms around him.
And for the first time in his life, Boone felt complete.
Bonus Story
Tempt Me
A Contemporary Romance
By Shiloh Walker
Published by Shiloh Walker
Cover Art by Angela Waters
Editorial Work by Erin Witschey and Sara Reinke
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you did not legally obtain a copy of this book, then you should purchase your own copy.
Please note that if you purchased this from an auction site or blog, it’s stolen property. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Your support is what makes it possible for authors to continue to provide the stories you enjoy.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Dedicated…as always with love to my husband and kids. Love you…
A note from the author…Do you know? The corset on the model isn’t exactly worn…right, I don’t think. Still, she’s lovely and ‘suits’ Rocki rather well.
I figured out the corset thing through a whole bunch of reading and through buying a corset or two of my own, and wearing them. The book itself came from an idea for Rocki’s character. Rocki’s character was kind of inspired by a model I saw on a website called Hips & Curves.
Yeah, writers get their inspiration even while shopping…
Chapter One
Silk, satin and candlelight. Decadence and romance. That was the image she was going for in the window display of her lingerie store, Lush & Lace.
They still had some long winter days ahead, perfect for cuddling in front of a fire, perfect for candlelit dinners. With just the right amount of dim light and the heavy, red velvet drapes, she knew she could get the right feel. It was all there, in her mind’s eye. Silk, satin and candlelight.
In Roxanne Monroe’s mind, there wasn’t anything sexier.
Well, maybe silk, satin and the feel of a man’s hands as he stripped them away...in the candlelight.
But she didn’t have that now, hadn’t had it in quite some time. At least not outside her imagination or the pages of a book. She wasn’t bitter anymore. After all, she’d had more love in a few years than some women had in a lifetime. She wasn’t entirely aware of the sad smile curling her lips as she stood in the window, fitting a corset around the waist of a mannequin.
It was a glimmering, lustrous ivory, pale and perfect. As she fastened the busk, she paused to stroke the silk and smile. She’d spent weeks trying to find the perfect material—it had to be the right shade, the right weight and the right cost. Everything had to be just right.
Being sexy shouldn’t break the bank, not in Rocki’s mind, but a real corset wasn’t cheap to make, especially the steel-boned ones.
A soft, musical tone filled the air, signifying that someone had just come through the door. “Just a minute!” She did a quick fix on the corset and then hopped out of the window, a smile set firmly in place.
“Welcome to Lush & Lace.”
Back in high school and college, she’d had some idea of going into theater. Then it had changed to costume design. But it was the background in drama that served her well in these moments.
Because the first look she got at the man was almost enough to lay her low. It hit her like a fist in the heart… and lower, all heat and shock. She ignored the little tug she felt in her heart and instead focused on the way her belly went all hot and tight. That was lust, pure and simple.
Let’s hear it for lust, Rocki thought, biting her cheek to keep from smiling as she studied him.
He was, in short, beautiful.
Blond hair—the kind a romance writer might call wheat blond because it wasn’t just one shade of gold, but hundreds—tumbled into his eyes as he glanced
down at the woman with him. His skin was tanned, even this far into winter, and somehow Rocki didn’t think it was from a tanning bed or anything artificial like that. She wondered just what he did to stay so sun-kissed. Speaking of kissing, he had a mouth that was made for that, for kissing all sorts of things. Another mental image that made her knees go weak.
Fantasy material.
That’s what he was.
Fantasy material.
And she firmly pushed him into that little mental niche—he needed to be there, anyway. He had a woman with him, right?
Rocki shifted her gaze to the woman just as she gave Rocki a dismissive glance.
Rocki felt her spine stiffen, barely resisting the urge to narrow her eyes and give the bitch a scathing once-over. The woman wasn’t even bothering to give Rocki one—she’d already made her decision and done her dismissal—rude, that. It wasn’t anything Rocki hadn’t dealt with before and she didn’t give a damn.
But if the bitch was going to be that condescending, why was she in here?
Maybe it was hormones. Maybe it was the woman’s snide attitude.
Maybe it was the oh-so-sexy guy at her side. Rocki didn’t know. But something pushed her to do it. Something pushed her to ignore the woman, something she never did, focusing on the gorgeous guy instead.
Leaning against the wall, she hooked her thumbs in the front pockets of her jeans and gave the man a whimsical smile. “Is there anything I can help you find, sir?”
She had the darkest, brownest eyes Cole had ever seen.
An elbow jabbed into his side and he looked down, meeting his fiancée’s gaze. By society’s standard, Mara O’Keily was a beautiful woman. Hell, even he had to admit that she was.
Sometimes, though, she left him cold. Lately, it was getting worse. It wasn’t so much a case of pre-wedding jitters—they hadn’t even set the damn date yet. Mara wouldn’t exactly say why, either. First, they had to find the right ring—the one he’d chosen hadn’t been. Then, she couldn’t find the right dress—that had been an ongoing ordeal for over a year now. She also wanted them to have their own home built. But after Mara started showing him some of the ideas she had, Cole had decided that would be a better project left ‘til after the wedding.
He had no problem investing money in a house, but she wasn’t thinking in terms that simple. Mansion was more like it. And outrageous and expensive didn’t even cover the potential cost. Yeah, he had money, but that didn’t mean he wanted her throwing it away.
Especially because lately, she was making him wonder just when there was going to be a wedding. Or if.
Still, he was engaged, and Cole didn’t take that lightly. He stroked a hand down Mara’s back and tried to remind himself that he wasn’t there to ogle the brunette salesclerk.
Although, damn…
Get it together.
He’d seen her when they were walking down the sidewalk. Hell, he’d noticed her before today. Weeks ago, really. But today, Mara had insisted on coming into the store, Lush & Lace. Cole had tried to talk her out of it, with no luck.
Mara was determined to get a look inside because her own lingerie store was opening a couple of blocks away next month. She wasn’t quite hitting the ambience the owner here had managed, either. Mara’s store, Divine, was sleek and silver and modern—hell, just like Mara, it was cold.
This place, though, it was just like its name.
Lush. He glanced back at the brunette and couldn’t help but think it described her as well.
“We’d like to speak to whomever is in charge,” Mara said, her voice taking on that tight, prissy tone she managed just a little too well. And a little too often lately.
The brunette lifted a slim brow and her mouth curled in a smile. She had a mole, Cole noticed. Right by her mouth. And damn if it wasn’t sexy as all get-out. Dragging his gaze away from her mouth, he made himself focus on her eyes. And he wasn’t the least bit surprised when she said, “I’m in charge.”
Mara stiffened, then recovered fast. She always had. She gave the brunette a polite smile and said, “I really need to speak to somebody other than the manager. When will the owner be in?”
“You’re looking at her.” She pushed off the wall and held out a ringless, manicured hand. “Rocki Monroe. How can I help you?”
Mara just stared at her.
Rocki continued to wait, that cool little smile on her pretty mouth. Whether it was because Cole couldn’t keep standing there while Mara was so rude or whether it was because he had some strange desire to touch her—or both—he reached out, closing his fingers around hers. “Cole Stanton.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Cole.”
He had the insane urge to bend down and press his mouth to that mole, then shift his mouth to the left, just a little, and cover that wide, soft mouth with his own. “The pleasure’s mine, Miss Monroe.”
“It’s Mrs. Monroe.”
Although he was standing there with his fiancée at his side, Cole felt something wither a little as she tugged her hand away. “Mrs. Monroe, then.” He glanced around the store, once more noticing the warmth, the simple elegance. No, he wasn’t much into shopping for lingerie, but this wasn’t the sort of store that would make him run away screaming. “You’ve got a beautiful shop here.”
There were portraits on the walls, and he eased around her to study one. It displayed a woman from the neck down. Facing away from the photographer, dark hair swept into a loose knot, the model wore an ivory corset and a long, maroon skirt.
It was simple. It was elegant. And erotic. Understated, but so very erotic.
Shifting his gaze downward, he saw the ivory corset displayed for purchase, along with the maroon skirt, what looked like garter belts and other stuff he wouldn’t have recognized before Mara had roped him into being a silent partner for her store. Cole looked at the next portrait and saw a similar theme—a dark-haired model, again photographed from the neck down. This time she was wearing something that looked like a corset, sort of, but it went under the breasts and was worn over what looked like an old-fashioned set of underwear. There was something of innocence and vulnerability captured in the photo. And, again, the clothing she modeled was displayed for purchase under the portrait.
One hell of a marketing tactic, he had to admit.
He looked back at Rocki and realized the red thing she had on was similar to what the model was wearing in the second picture. “What’s that you’re wearing?” he asked.
Mara sniffed. “It’s an underbust corset. The fuller-figured woman likes that device because it makes her look skinnier.”
“Actually, the fuller-figured woman likes it because it shows off her assets,” Rocki drawled easily. She glanced at Mara’s chest and then smiled. “A lot of women like them, regardless of their figure. We cater to all sorts of clients, and this is a popular design. It accentuates the female figure—hips, waist, breasts. I like my assets.”
Hell, who wouldn’t? Cole wondered. Then he mentally kicked himself. Shit, he needed to get his act together. Ideally, he needed to get out of this store and away from Mrs. Rocki Monroe.
Snotty little bitch. Rocki looked into the blonde’s pale blue eyes and wondered just what bug had crawled up her ass and died. Mean viper. Something about this chick had mental sirens screaming in Rocki’s head, and it had nothing to do with Mr. Gorgeous at her side, either.
“I’m Mara. Mara O’Keily.” The blonde stared at her, waiting.
Rocki lifted a brow. She had the weirdest feeling the name was supposed to mean something, but it wasn’t ringing any bells. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Ms. O’Keily. Is there something I can help you with?”
Mara started to frown, but stopped just as suddenly… as though she didn’t want the wrinkles marring her smooth, perfect brow. “I’m opening a shop on High Street. Divine.”
Ahhh...bingo.
Rocki managed, just barely, not to laugh. Her assistant manager had been fielding calls from a Ms. Kelly or Keely. The first few
had been polite enough, inquiring about the name of Rocki’s supplier. Then the calls had gotten more snide and condescending.
When they got word of the new store opening—a high-end lingerie store that was going to cater to the modern young woman—the e-mails started. Pushy emails. And Rocki figured things out. Rocki supposed she could have been nice and put a stop to it by taking one of the calls, but she had a perverse streak a mile wide, one her assistant manager shared. And they didn’t care to be bullied.
Now look where it had landed her.
“Well, Ms. O’Keily, it’s nice to meet you. How are things going for the store’s opening?” she asked.
“Lovely.” Mara paused briefly and then added, “I hope the opening doesn’t cause any conflicts.”
Rocki smiled. “Is there a reason it should?”
“Well, the competition and all.” Mara’s smile took on a sharp edge.
Rocki chuckled. “I suspect we’ll have two totally different customer bases, Ms. O’Keily.” The bell over the door rang and she glanced up, smiling as she recognized the customer. “Hi, Grace. I’ll be with you in just a minute.”
Grace waved and wandered over to inspect a new display of chemises. Looking back at Mara, Rocki said, “If there’s nothing else, I need to get back to work.”
“Well, I do have one matter of business.” Mara smiled. “Your supplier. After all, as you say, we have two totally different customer bases. I doubt those who shop at my store would ever find what they need here. Since we’ve got different customer bases, is there any harm is letting me have the name of your supplier?”
“Hmm. Well, you see...” Rocki smirked inwardly. “My supplier is a private individual who hand selects who she works with. If you wish to leave your card, I’ll get the info to her. Beyond that...I’m not handing out her information. She likes her privacy.”
Virgin's Night Out Page 15
