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One Night in Jersey

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by Tianna Xander




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  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

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

  One Night in Jersey

  Copyright 2016 by Tianna Xander

  ISBN: 978-1-68361-139-4

  Cover art by Fiona Jayde

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

  Look for us online at:

  www.decadentpublishing.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  It Was Always You by Tianna Xander

  Hi, everyone!

  I wrote Jamie’s story because he had been Jared’s rock in It Was Always You. It just seemed as though he needed his own story—and rightly so. I didn’t realize how lonely he’d been until I started working on One Night in Jersey. Apparently, our alpha werewolves can only stand spending so many years alone.

  He’s a good guy and I enjoyed giving him the love of his life. I hope you enjoy reading about Hayley and Jamie as much as I enjoyed writing their story.

  I love hearing from my readers. Please don’t hesitate to write me at tiannaxander@gmail.com. I enjoy hearing from each and every one of you. Let me know what you think and tell me what you hope to see next.

  Until next time,

  Tianna

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  Also by Tianna Xander

  It Was Always You

  One Night in Jersey

  Hayley is through with fickle men. Tired of the love ’em and leave ’em type, she hires the 1Night Stand agency in a last ditch effort to find a good man, even if it’s only for a single date. Getting a man’s undivided attention for one night isn’t too much to ask, is it?

  Almost convinced he’s destined to spend his life alone, Jamie Campbell contacts the 1Night Stand agency. Can the mysterious Madame Evangeline and her unique abilities find him the perfect match? Maybe….

  On his way to Atlantic City at Madame’s direction, he finds a beautiful full-figured woman stranded on the side of the road. A chivalrous man would stop and help her. It’s a good thing he’s old-fashioned.

  Dedication

  To shifter lovers everywhere.

  One Night in Jersey

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  Tianna Xander

  Chapter One

  Hayley Pittman stared at her computer screen, mouse in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other. Snorting, she clicked on an email from her ex-boyfriend and took a bite of the thick, cheesy slice just to spite the conceited bastard.

  The idiot had been trying to get her to take him back for the last month and a half. Fat chance of that happening after he’d called her a cow when he’d left. Apparently, he thought she’d jump at the chance to have him in her life again. She might have considered it if she hadn’t known the only reason he’d contacted her was because his little cheerleader had dumped him and he believed she was an easy lay.

  She refused to let him take advantage of her again. Through wasting time on fickle men, she decided to spend a year or two without them. They demanded too much attention on a daily basis only to leave her alone and hurting when she finally let her guard down.

  “Well, you’re finding out I’m not so easy, aren’t you, you scumbag?” She glared at the missive, flicked her middle finger at the screen, and took another bite of pizza before she started to read.

  Dearest Hayley,

  Please forgive me. I never should have left you. I was stupid and made an error in judgment. I wish you would give me another chance. Hannah was the biggest mistake I ever made. You’ve already made me pay. Now, I think I deserve a chance to make up for it.

  Carl

  “I…I…I.” She glared at the monitor. How could she possibly forget that, in his world, everything was always about him? She read the letter one more time and then deleted it with no reply. The jerk didn’t deserve an answer.

  She’d just closed the email program when her cell phone chimed, telling her she had another message in her inbox. Instead of reading the letter on the small screen, she clicked the link for her email and took a sip of cola while she waited for it to load. She welcomed anything to procrastinate just a while longer, since she had no idea what to write next.

  After writing her heroine into a corner the night before, she had no idea how she would get the poor girl out of the situation short of deleting the entire scene. She didn’t have a problem deleting it if she could think of another direction to move in but, so far, she hadn’t been able to type a single sentence either way. Writer’s block sucked, big time.

  The window popped up, showing her a message from 1Night Stand. She’d hired the exclusive agency to find her a date—a fantasy, really. For once, she wanted the undivided attention of a man for twenty-four hours. After that, she planned to swear off them for at least a year. She needed a rest, to put things into perspective before jumping back into the dating scene. She’d thought Carl was the one. Apparently, she’d been horribly mistaken.

  Just once in her life, she wanted a date with a guy as hot as the pavement in August, and one who treated her like the butter on his biscuit—at least for the night. She also wanted him all to herself in some sort of out-of-the-way setting. She didn’t much care what kind of private setting, only that she wanted him to see her, and only her, for one damned day. She sat back and sighed.

  Was it too much to ask?

  Bonjour, chère.

  The letter had to be from Madame Evangeline, the mysterious Frenchwoman who ran the agency. Who else would call her chère? Besides, Hayley could have sworn someone had said the elusive Madame took care of her clients personally, even if she managed it through written
correspondence only.

  Though she’d never actually spoken to Madame Eve, she could practically hear a woman with a French accent saying the words as she read the letter.

  I have arranged a night with a man fitting your specifications. You wished for a restricted area and what I have in mind is very much so. As per usual, I have personally researched your case and your date. Never fear, you will be safe at all times.

  Please meet your date at the Castillo resort in Atlantic City this Friday. Your ticket awaits you at the airport, and I have taken the liberty of renting you a car. Give the host at the registration desk your name when you check in.

  Enjoy your evening!

  Madame Eve

  Friday? It’s Tuesday already. She checked her desk calendar to be sure. I’ll have to pack, finish the manuscript I’m working on and get it turned in…I only have three days!

  Closing the Internet window, she pulled up the word-processing program, her trembling fingers hovering over the keyboard. She’d have to type fast in order to meet her deadline and make the date she’d paid to experience.

  “Writer’s block be damned. I have a plane to catch.”

  ***

  Late Thursday night, Hayley finished pounding out the story she’d been working on, emailed it to her editor, and hurried to pack her suitcase. By the time she finished shoving things into her bag, the taxi had arrived, and she headed for the airport where she found a ticket waiting for her, as Madame Eve promised.

  And it’s a first class ticket, no less. She held the boarding pass as though it were gold and made her way to the gate. Boarding the plane, she crammed her carry-on bag in the storage compartment and sat, happy to note the seats in first class didn’t brush her hips. She leaned her head against the headrest, settled back, and sighed. She had barely made it on time. Resting a hand on her stomach to try to hold the butterflies in place, she watched through the window as they taxied out to the runwayand then, with a roar of the engines, the plane raced down the runway, the airport sped past the window, and the ground fell away.

  Closing her eyes, she prayed things would go well with her one-night stand. If she failed at this, she would never go out with a man again. Hell, who paid for dates in this day and age, other than women like her?

  Part of her felt naughty and another part cheap. She took a deep breath and sighed. It’s too late now. Apparently, a lot of people paid for them or the 1Night Stand agency would be out of business. Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she’d start to believe it.

  Chapter Two

  Jesus, I’m reduced to hunting for a mate in bars. Jamie sat alone at a table, watching a group of women gyrating on the dance floor. They appeared to be holding a bachelorette party, if the almost total lack of men was any indication. Multi-colored lights flashed, and the loud beat of the music shook the liquid in his glass.

  Thank God they hadn’t had a male stripper…yet. Unsure of whether he could stomach that at the moment, he peered around for a likely suspect. Seeing no scantily dressed male, he turned his attention back to the women.

  What heterosexual man with a heartbeat wouldn’t enjoy such a show? He checked his watch and frowned. Jared, his best friend, had just found his mate. Busy and happy, he’d told Jamie to get lost. The besotted ass insisted he should go search for his own match. Three weeks had already passed, and Jamie was no closer to finding a woman than he had been six months or sixty years ago.

  He sighed, wondering if he would ever get lucky enough to find the perfect woman, settle down, and have some cubs—one, two or three at a time, of course. He chuckled at the thought some human mates balked at the idea of having litters with others of his ilk.

  Hell, his kind had kids much like humans. The largest litter he’d heard of had been triplets—at least he’d never heard of a larger batch of cubs without the help of a fertility specialist. His kind’s base form was human and usually overrode the wolven part of them—except where mates were concerned. With a mate, his wolf could prove difficult to control, if not impossible to do so, if another man attempted to take her from him.

  The heavy beat reverberated throughout the room until the spoon in the dish at the next table vibrated. With his shifter hearing picking up on the slightest noise, even over the ear-abusing music and racket from the nearby dancers, the high-pitched rattle nearly drove him over the edge. He tipped back his drink, the ice hitting his teeth. He sucked the last of the liquor from the glass, swishing the potent liquid between his teeth as though it were mouthwash. The slight burn of the whiskey as he swallowed reminded him he was alive, even if still alone.

  For ninety years he’d searched far and wide, hunting for a woman to take as his mate. He couldn’t find one. Sure, plenty had offered themselves to him, but he found none of them attractive and chemistry didn’t exist between them. He wanted a specific kind of girl, and they generally didn’t hang out in bars.

  What a pity.

  Like his friend Jared, Jamie loved the tall, curvy type. The curvier the better, in his book. He’d always been attracted to women with the classic hourglass figure, only he liked his hourglasses with a bit more sand than most.

  Not once had he worried about damaging a full-figured woman the way he had with the smaller girls with whom he’d spent time, the main reason he primarily dated curvy girls.

  Well, what was wrong with wanting a little bit of flesh to hold on to?

  Like his father always said, the more the cushion, the better the pushin’. So far, he’d found the statement to be true, at least in his case.

  Returning his attention to the dance floor, he spotted a pretty lass through the swaying crowd. Narrowing his eyes, he stared. That was the type of woman he would date.

  Long, glossy auburn hair hung down to her waist, the emerald-green corset she wore contrasting with her white dress. The tightly laced garment showed off her figure perfectly, accentuating wide hips and drawn-in waist, and pushed her full breasts up until they appeared ready to spill out of the bodice. The ensuing jiggle nearly made his mouth water with the need to taste them. He licked his lips.

  Standing, he weaved through the crowd toward the dance floor, keeping his gaze firmly on his dream woman. As he reached the edge of the tiles, another woman took her hand and drew her in for a deep kiss. Matching rings flashed on their left hands as they wrapped their arms around each other in a passionate embrace.

  It wasn’t a bachelorette party, after all. Apparently, he’d accidentally crashed a wedding reception. He noted as much when the others let out a cheer and someone held up a sign that read, Kay and Terry finally got hitched.

  Damn. She might be my type, but I’m obviously not hers.

  Turning away, he tried not to let his disappointment show. It was their party, and they didn’t need him fucking it up.

  Right back where he started, he headed for the door. No matter how long or how diligently he searched, he couldn’t find a woman who stirred his wolf enough to want to mate her. Her body chemistry must ensnare his animal side and, for some reason, he had never discovered a woman who had even come close.

  After nearly a century of searching for the perfect mate, James Campbell was ready to throw in the towel. If he couldn’t find a woman with whom to share his life, perhaps he should head home and see what he could do for others in the same predicament. He’d give himself another month and then go back to Scotland and try to help someone else with their hunt for a mate.

  The odd matchmaking agency Jared kept trying to get him to contact looked better and better. Maybe that Madame Evangeline person could find him a compatible woman, as well. A long shot, but what the hell. Why not?

  Sliding behind the wheel of his car, Jamie took out his phone, composed an email to the 1Night Stand agency, and sent it off. With luck, Madame Eve would reply in the morning and he would have his answer.

  His phone whistled. Glancing down, he frowned. The 1Night Stand agency.

  Hello, chér,

&n
bsp; I’ve been waiting for your message. Your friend has also asked me to find a match for you. I might have someone.

  Please head south. I will contact you again soon.

  Au revoir,

  Madame Eve

  “I guess I’m on my way south. Maybe I’ll drive to Atlantic City.” The long drive from his best friend’s new home base in Ottawa to New Jersey should give him time to reevaluate his failure at finding a mate. Fastening his seatbelt, he put the car in gear and turned in the direction of the United States. If he couldn’t find a mate, at least he could play some blackjack before he stored his car in the garage at his condo, caught a flight out of New York and flew home to Scotland.

  Chapter Three

  Hayley had hoped to rest on the flight to Atlantic City. Instead, there had been a large fuel spill at the airport and they’d been redirected to Watertown, New York. Apparently, it had been the closest airport to land, since other, closer sites had already taken as many unexpected flights as they could handle.

  In a panic and still at least six hours away from Atlantic City, she rented a car, opting for the long drive, rather than wait for the next flight seven hours later. She refused to leave anything to fate. Her contract with the 1Night Stand dating service stated one night only and this was it.

  Either the rental booth at the airport had been extremely busy, or they didn’t stock many vehicles because one car remained on the lot—a sub-compact. Fifty feet from the dinky thing, she stopped, her mouth hanging open.

 

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