by Ember Flint
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
CONTENTS
Cash
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Devastatingly Desirable
Excerpt of Devastatingly Desirable
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Also by Ember Flint
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Cash
By EMBER FLINT
Cash Stone is a hard-edged businessman that has been in charge of everything around him for as long as he can remember. He is all about work and no play. Set in his ways, he has been disappointed far too many times in his life to do something about it and is now resigned to only do his duty and preserve the prestigious legacy of his family.
He has always been surrounded by money and strangers; his name the perfect label to a life of power, success and loneliness, but everything changes when he meets a twenty-year-old girl who has been as alone as he has, but without the fortune to keep her safe and she instantly slices through the armor protecting his heart.
Aria Murphy is tired of being alone, life has been tough on her and in a cruel twist of fate, the irony of Murphy’s law seems to be following her every step of the way. Anything that could go wrong, did and everyone she has ever loved is now gone.
Just when she thinks her life could not possibly sink any lower, a friendly hand is extended down to her —a friendly strong hand, attached to a crazily big, gorgeous billionaire who wants to sweep her off her feet and make her his forever.
Resisting is futile, even if she wished to: Cash is a true alpha who will stop at nothing to have her and has come up with an astonishing plan to make sure he can buy for himself the chunk of happiness life seems obstinate to deny him.
After all, he owns pretty much everything he sees, so why not sweet innocent Aria as well?
Dear Reader:
If Tall Dark and Handsome is not enough for you, Cash is also a Cowboy with only claiming and breeding in his mind (you can thank me later for that).
This is an over the top manly and obsessive hero falling hard and ridiculously fast for an untouched blushing heroine with a sassy mouth, if this is your kind of story, hang onto your cowboy hats, sign on the dotted line and take this baby home: it will totally rock your world.
This is utterly unrealistic, filthy, insta-love cheesy, saccharine sweetness spiced up with steamy hotness. No cheating, lots of baby-making loving and a guaranteed HEA so deliciously sugary it will spoil your teeth, grab your heart and uh... other places *wink*
I hereby promise that the loneliness and bad luck of this couple ends as soon as they meet each other, our sexy and possessive Cash would never have it any other way; so don't be shy, keep a tissue close by to dab at your eyes, a box of chocolate within reach, wear comfy clothes and buckle up for a sizzling ride that comes with an adorable surprise at the end.
Warning: this smutty read could seriously melt your kindle!
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 Ember Flint
All rights reserved.
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 permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. To request permission, contact the author.
Note from the Author: this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over. Also, in real life, remember: always safety first.
Cover design by: Pink Diamonds Waterfall
Edited by: New Wave Romance
To those of you who think that love can come fast,
hit hard and give everybody a second chance at happiness.
Chapter 1
CASH
I lower the brim of my cowboy hat toward my forehead to shade my eyes from the bright sunlight shining through the clouds and scorching my skin.
Today is as hot as hell, too much to bear even for a guy like me, born and raised under the blistering Texas sun.
I feel the sweat slide down my back and gluing the denim shirt to my skin, my chest heaving in a series of short breaths.
I dab the sides of my face and my stubbled chin with a dark bandana and then I pull the bridles of my mount slightly until the horse slows down and stops on the highest point of the slope, facing the huge white manor.
I smile, looking at my home, feeling the usual sense of pride and belonging swell inside of me.
Every time I mention this place in conversation, people look at me oddly: they think it’s strange I call the main house on a ranch a manor, but that’s how it’s always been called since it was built almost one hundred and eighty years ago.
My ancestors were landed gentry back in the Old World. They were quite rich, but the last heir was a very forward-thinking man. He dreamed of a different kind of life in a different kind of world so he sold his estate and ancestral manor in Sheffield, along with all his holdings and left England at the start of the nineteen century to try his fortune amongst the wilds of America.
In less than ten years he tripled his inheritance, investing in all kinds of lucrative ventures and he managed to build everything that has been passed down onto me, but he was a sentimental kind of guy: even when he became a businessman he still missed being a country gentleman and so he went for the next best thing: he reinvented himself as a cowboy, bought a lot of land and started to build a boundless ranch and this large house and affectionately called it the manor.
He fucking loved this place and so did every other Stone born after him, myself included.
My guardian taught me since I was I child that no matter how successful Stone Conglomerate was, my family was always connected with the land at heart and even if I’m the only one left, it’s still true.
Stone Ranches are the part of my holdings that I care about the most.
We are perfectly self-sufficient here and there’s nothing we don’t rear, farm or dig up from this land that we could not live off entirely if necessary.
Even with just the ranches I would be a very wealthy guy, the rest it’s just icing on the cake —lots of icing on a very big cake, I’ll never be able to eat whole, not even if a hundred thousand people helped. That’s how much money I have.
It’s barely ten a.m. and I’m already bone-tired: I’ve been inspecting the oilfields since well before daybreak and when I finished with that, I went to see how the cattle were doing at the pastures, then I went for a ride through the countryside and down my river becaus
e both my horse and I needed to clear our heads a little, so basically I’ve been sitting on my favorite stallion —a four-year-old, white Thoroughbred that I delivered myself— for hours now.
I pat the large neck of my horse and lightly dig the heels of my boots in his sides to get him to start trotting again toward the main stables of the ranches.
“What do you say to a little exercise, Artax? We’ve been in the saddle too long and had too fast a ride to just stop without cooling off a bit.”
My horse neighs and I stroke the side of his muzzle. “Good answer, Cork head. Let’s go play a little.”
I’m exhausted, but I’m not going to tie my horse up without stretching a bit after the race, I don’t want him to risk a cramp, plus he got slightly nervous on the last leg of the ride back because of a fucking snake that came out from nowhere and I want him to calm down and relax a little with a game.
I ride to the enormous central pen, still in perfect view of the house and start to trot Artax at a gentle pace around the white fence, then we focus on some easy jumps, the thuds of the horse’s hooves filling the silence, a golden fog of dust around us.
Artax is getting excited again, I manage to calm him down and ride him to a stop. He neighs, snorting a bit and shaking his long head, making me grin a little.
If it were for him, we’ll never stop playing: he is a very spirited stallion, half a ton of energy and strength that never slows down or complains with my two hundred pounds on his back.
“Alright, just a little more, then,” I say and we jump another obstacle.
“That was a good jump, boy,” I say and pull his bit a little to make him change direction.
We spend the next few minutes jumping some simple combinations and practicing basic dressage exercises and then we’re finally done.
Well, not really, Artax is done for the day: he won’t have to carry my huge, bulky body around anymore and can take the next couples of days off, but me, not so much: when I’m done here at the ranch, I’ve got to get my ass to Austin, there’s a boardroom meeting waiting for me there and God only knows —and Jerry, my personal assistant, with him— how many engagements I have after that.
I wish I could stay here much more frequently, leading a far simpler life, but lately it’s been almost impossible to come more than twice a month. Between following the progress of too many ventures to count, make the board of directors happy and closing several deals at the same time, saying that I am on a really tight schedule right now would be an understatement and do what I’d like to do, instead of what I must, it’s out of the question.
I see Molly, my housekeeper and ex-nanny, bustling out of the house; her white and yellow checkered apron shining in the sun. She is coming toward me at a fast pace, with my cell in hand and a frown on her forehead.
This can only mean two things: my time off is going to be prematurely cut short and my schedule just got even tighter.
I sigh, dismounting Artax.
That’s why I never take my damn cell with me when I’m riding through the ranches.
Molly says it’s a very reckless thing to do, but if I didn’t I’d never have a little time for myself, besides there are always uncountable workers around me so if something did happen they would know.
She reaches me and passes me the phone shaking her head.
“Sweetie, how is it possible that they never let you be? I was just about to put your favorite chocolate chip cookies in the oven.”
I smile at her. “Who do I have to call?” I ask, sliding one finger on the display to bring it to life.
“Mr. McKade. He called almost one hour ago, said he needs to talk to you about some board meeting thingy.”
“Alright, thank you, Molls. I’ll call him in a minute.”
I pull some slices of carrot out of my shirt’s pocket and turn toward Artax again.
“Here you go, Donkey.”
The stallion’s muzzle immediately goes to my hand and wipes the carrots away.
He snorts, stomping a little in place, nuzzles my face and then starts to sniff my chest affectionately, looking for more treats.
Molly laughs. “If he wasn’t such a giant, I’ll swear he is a puppy more than a horse,” she says, patting his neck. “Well, I’ll better go back in. I have to start working on dinner for you and all the workers.”
She takes off her black-rimmed glasses and starts to clean them with a corner of her apron.
“Moll?”
She slides the glasses back on her nose and looks at me through narrowed eyes.
“You won’t be staying for dinner, right, Cash?”
I shake my head. “I’d love to, but you already knew I couldn’t even before. The fact that Carson called, only means I’ll have to probably leave even earlier than I thought. Also, I will probably be in Austin for the next three weeks and—”
“What? Three weeks?! What do I have to do with you? Cash you need to slow down, darling: you work too hard and you’re never home.”
I nod. “I know, but there’s not much I can to about it. There’s just me after all and time is never enough to stay up to speed with everything as it is. To be able to come here, I’ll need to have at least twelve more hours in a day.”
Molly pats my cheek a little too hard. “You don’t need a thirty-six-hour-long day, Cash: you need to find a nice girl and settle down. How many times more will I have to tell you?”
Here we go again. I roll my eyes at her.
“Well, if I could really have my way with this, I’d say not even another time and really, Molls, jokes aside, I don’t know about nice girls ‘cause I’ve yet to meet one, but the ones I do meet only see me for what I own and not for who I am, so there’s no way I’ll marry. As you know my name is no great help when it comes to that sort of thing either. My parents must have been quite the suckers for tragic irony.”
Molly smiles wistfully and sighs. “They both had a great sense of humor, especially your dad and they were both really straightforward people, much like you are. They used to say that whoever was going to meet you would end up thinking of your worth anyway, so they might as well—”
“Cut the story short, I know: you’ve told me many times. Still think they could have called me Fred or Paul or Robert or whatever and spared me the misery.”
She smiles at me, raising on her toes and stretching an arm all the way to reach my cheek.
I take pity on her and bend a little down so she can deliver her pinch. “You big rascal, sometimes I wonder at the person responsible for your manners.”
I laugh. “You do? It happens when you look in the mirror?”
She shakes her head. “I’m proud of you, Cash, and I don’t mean to nag you, truly, but you are too serious and work too hard and you do need someone in your life. I know you think everyone is the same, but you have to take a risk sometimes, darling.”
I relax my shoulders and nod. No way I can get her to see things differently.
“Okay, Molls. I’ll see what I can do, but I really need to call Carson now.”
“Alright then, call that old bear, see what he wants, but don’t take too long, I have breakfast waiting for you, you sneaked out again without eating this morning, you’ll make yourself sick if you keep on skipping meals and living off takeaway, you are getting thin.”
I look down at my big, muscular body and I shake my head, I’m so large my shadow casts a freaking huge shade that can almost obliterate five people if they are close enough and yet she still sees me like a scrawny boy; I guess things like this never change.
I’m not even sure I would wish them to.
Molly and Carson are the only people that remotely resembled parental figures in my life —even though they never saw eye-to-eye and to this day they can never be in the same room without arguing— I would be lost without them.
I let Artax loose in the pen, removing the saddle from his back and then I call my guardian.
His rasp
y and weathered from too much tobacco voice comes on the line after the first ring.
“McKade,” he barks —that’s how he says hello. He never checks the caller ID, just answers the phone old-school-style.
“Carson, it’s me,” I say, resting my back on the fence.
“Cash, I wasn’t expecting to really hear from you. I was sure that old crone won’t even mention to you that I called.”
I look up to the sky, the sun blinding me. When are these two going to stop playing this stupid game?
“Would you give it a rest and call her with her name: Molly. It’s very easy to say.”
“Never, son. Anyway, I called for two things. First of all, the Board meeting has been moved up an hour, so I need you to get your ass in town earlier. We must discuss strategy.”
I sigh. Can’t really say I’m surprised. “And the second thing?”
“Well, I’m looking at the society page of some gossip rag right now, son. Well done.”
I can feel my eyebrows shoot up on their own accord.
“Whoa, wait. Since when do you read gossip rags, and well done for what?”
Carson snorts. “I told you I was looking at them, not reading them. I don’t read this crap.”
He sounds mildly offended.
I laugh. I really don’t know where he is going with this. “Alright… alright. You don’t read them, so what—?”
He interrupts. “Damn straight, I don’t, but Melinda loves them and she brought a certain article to my attention.”
“Miranda,” I correct.
Here we go again: if he is starting to confuse names, it means she is almost old news already.
“What?”
“That’s the name of your girlfriend. Miranda, not Melinda, Carson.”
“That’s what I said.”
“And what does this article have to do with me?” I ask and shake my head, pointless to argue about this any further.
