by Beverly Rae
Dedication
I’d like to thank Jennifer Miller, my wonderful and very patient editor. I may not always like what she has to say, but she’s usually right. Thanks, Jennifer!
Chapter One
“Can we please dance? I hate just sitting here watching while everyone else has fun.”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about, Allison Tristan Halloran. Grab a man and dance if you want.” Meg, middle child of the three Tristan sisters, tried to ignore her younger sister’s complaints and leaned against the back of the chair before placing a second napkin under her Long Island iced tea. She drank in the energy of the nearby dancers, enjoying the crowd that had gathered at The Sundowner Club. Twinkling lights played over the people’s features and the disc jockey announced another song.
“Oh, sure. Like any man’s going to want to twirl this wide load around the room.” Allie tore at the edge of a napkin. “Besides, I was talking about dancing with one of you. After all, I’m a married woman.”
Meg’s gaze dropped to her sister’s stomach. Allie was large, sure, but pregnancy made her even more beautiful. Her golden hair framed her face and highlighted the blue eyes that matched her sisters’ while the pregnancy rounded out her features and gave her an almost ethereal glow. Allie had survived the dangerous transformation from succubus to mortal and had come out looking better than ever.
Meg jerked her thumb toward the man pouring drinks behind the bar. “What about Tom? Can’t you sit at the bar and keep him company? Or is he upset that you’re hanging around here in your condition?”
Allie waved to her husband. “I could, although sitting on a barstool isn’t the easiest thing with a baby belly. But he understands that I need to socialize with my sisters once in a while, and he doesn’t complain. In fact, my tagging along with you two was his idea. This way he can stay close in case the baby comes. She’s due any time, you know.”
“Which is why you should be at home.” Meg shot her sister a look, then gave up. What was the use of arguing, anyway? Instead of waiting for a response, she swiveled her chair around to scope out the men standing near the far wall.
Meg pushed her straw around in her drink and let her thoughts wander. Maybe if she used magic, she could entice the baby to come tonight. But she knew better than to interfere with Mother Nature again. The last time she had, the Big Earth Mamma had threatened to wash her sisters away in a flash flood.
Not seeing any interesting men, she turned back to the table and met Hilly’s thoughtful appraisal.
Meg owed her older sister everything. After the untimely death of their parents, Hilly had taken on the role of both mother and father, raising Allie and Meg on her own. But it was time for Hilly to step out of the parental role and back into the world. A world where Hilly could put her single status into good use. Too bad she didn’t realize it. Although a beauty by anyone’s standards, Hilly had never tried to attract men. She was a homebody, content to run the family bakery, Sweet Nothings, along with her sisters’ help.
Hilly frowned, the lines marring her smooth forehead. “Babies have a way of making their entrance at the worst possible time, you know. Especially the baby of a succubus-turned-human. Or at least that’s what Aunt Matilda told me in her last email. And a nightclub isn’t the best place for any expectant mother.”
Allie fluttered her hands at Hilly, waving off her concerns. “Don’t worry. It’s safe since Tom doesn’t allow smoking. And I do enjoy having my husband’s attention. Heaven knows, once our daughter is born, I won’t have him wrapped around my little finger any longer. She will.” Allie laughed and ran her hands over her stomach.
“Still, Hilly’s right. You should go home and get your rest. You don’t want to wear yourself out before the baby comes.” If Meg could get Hilly to take Allie home, then she would be free to have her fun.
“But I feel fine.”
Hilly’s concern for her baby sister sparkled in her big blue eyes. “I know you do and you look good. But—”
“But nothing,” Meg said. “When you’re right, you’re right, Hilly. You should take her home. Besides, I know you don’t like the nightclub scene. Now that Allie’s had a little fun, you can leave. Both of you.”
Meg nursed her drink. Not for the first time, she wondered how her wild night out had turned into a night with her sisters discussing her soon-to-be-born niece, Allie’s husband and the bakery business. She wouldn’t let them throw off her plans for the evening. “I don’t need a chaperone, you know. Especially once I decide on which man I want.”
Meg glanced at a couple of men who were giving her the once-over, and her enthusiasm dropped a level lower. Every man seemed the same as the last. What the club, the town, needed was a fresh crop of maleness. But until then, she’d just have to make do.
“Oh. Are we cramping your style?”
As if Hilly didn’t know. “Ya think? Heck, the least you could do is to shape-shift into a man, big sis. Then I’d have something better to look at. Or how about morphing into a nice, obedient dog?”
Hilly shook her head, her black hair dancing in a long cascade down her back. “Hmm. Maybe I should change into a rat so I could scuttle away and leave you alone?”
“Hey, now there’s an idea.” Meg met Hilly’s grin with one of her own.
“Why do you want any of these men anyway? Haven’t you had enough liaisons?”
“Liaisons? Wow, Hilly, what a quaint word. Actually, I prefer to think of my so-called liaisons as hooking up. It’s sex, plain and simple. And I’m about to get some, if you know what I mean.”
“Everyone knows what you mean. Aren’t you afraid of getting a bad reputation?”
Meg laughed, happy to see how the sound drew several men’s notice, even though none of them made her heart beat any faster. “Seriously, Hilly? A bad reputation? What is this, the sixteenth century?”
At her sister’s scoff, she added, “Oh, come on, you two. You know this is who I am. Allie may have been a succubus, but I was always more sexually active. And as for you, Hilly… Well, we know you aren’t into flings. Now, if you’ll excuse me, those men over there need my attention. Hilly, help Allie the Preggers over to kiss her husband goodnight and then take her home, okay?”
Ignoring her sisters’ protests, Meg threw them a kiss and swayed toward the large group of men. Every man turned toward her as she moved closer. It was almost too easy attracting men. With or without an attraction spell, she could have any man she wanted. The realization was an intoxicating one, but even so, the familiar knot in her stomach grew harder. Sex was one thing, but would she ever find love like Allie had?
She glanced at Tom as he rushed over to help Allie waddle through the crowd, and she felt the familiar stab of yearning. If she could find a man who could stimulate her both sexually and intellectually, she’d gladly give up one-night stands. But finding a man like that was about as likely as winning the lottery. Of course, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t keep buying lottery tickets.
“Hey, baby, how’re you doing?”
Meg looked him over, from the top of the man’s head down to the tips of his shoes and back again, while his friends watched and waited. He was good-looking, but she sensed that he wasn’t the brightest light in the room. His body, however, boasted hours of gym time so she considered him a likely candidate. Did he have enough stamina to handle a romp with her? Especially if she used a little magic to spice things up?
“Can’t you tell how I’m doing?” She pursed her lips, thrust out her chest and received the appropriate admiring looks. One of the men licked his lips as though he could already taste her. Down, boy. I haven’t made my choice yet.
A
taller man edged the first man aside. “Hi, I’m Rick. Can I buy you a drink?”
Meg lifted an eyebrow and gave him the once-over. Couldn’t he see that her glass was half full? Yep, this group was a virtual think tank. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
The usual exchange of names and light chit-chat ensued while other women in the club cast jealous glares her way. How many of them could command the attention of five men at the same time? Meg covered her smug smile with a sip of her drink. Half the fun was having the rest of the women turn green with envy. Not that she was mean-spirited about it, and she’d never blatantly throw it in their faces, but who didn’t like being the envy of others once in a while? She sipped her drink and basked under the attention, answering only when she needed to keep the conversation flowing.
Having finished her drink at last, she held it up and shook the glass. Within a second, someone handed her another drink—hmm, at least one of these guys can think ahead—and she politely thanked the sweet-faced young man. Then she let her gaze roam, landing on one man then another in her quest to find the best possible candidate for a night of sex and, hopefully, more sex.
Dark, soulful eyes, eyes that made her believe he could possess the answers to every question in life, caught hers, bringing her search to an abrupt stop. She blinked, then narrowed her own eyes, trying to see through the gaggle of women surrounding him. An almost too-handsome-to-be-real face captured her attention. Dark hair framed the sculpted face and made her palm itch. What would it be like to touch the silky wave falling across his forehead? Or better yet, how would that mass of hair feel tickling the skin of her inner thighs? He took a sip of his drink, bringing her focus to his full lips. Lips she could easily imagine nibbling. Her nibbling him. Him nibbling her.
She took another sip of her drink, never taking her eyes off him. One of the women standing next to him ran her palm along his jaw line. His jaw was so well defined, so strong she imagined that it could cut steel. A twinge of something unfamiliar twisted inside her. She drew in a slow breath and frowned, trying to place the new emotion. She could recall a similar reaction clenching her stomach whenever she thought about Tom’s love for Allie, or when Hilly made her incredible cupcakes, a feat Meg could never quite accomplish. Why did she feel this way? Her gut twisted, and she concentrated, bringing the niggling idea to the forefront.
Recognition hit her, stunning her. Could she be…? No, wait. She couldn’t be. And yet, she couldn’t deny the truth.
Am I jealous? Stars and moon, what the hell is wrong with me?
Meg forced herself to look away from the mesmerizing face the other woman still caressed, to slide over the well-muscled chest outlined by his silky black shirt. She concentrated on sizing him up, his confident, almost arrogant stance, the rich quality of his attire. If only the women around him would get out of the way, she could see what lay below his slim waist, perhaps even get a glimpse at the size of the bulge in his slacks.
Unable to keep from doing so, she came back to his face and once again found him studying her. His bemused expression bothered her, but she’d be damned if she’d let him see how he’d unnerved her with one look. Instead, she dipped her head and pretended to laugh at the awful joke one of the men had told.
Where had he come from? She hadn’t seen him around Cottageville, much less the club, which meant he had to be new in town. She paused, grasping for something her sisters had said. Was he the new doctor? That had to be it. She blew out a silent whistle. How such a dreamy man could wind up in the small North Carolina town was a mystery, but she wasn’t about to question her luck. Here was the night’s pleasure stud she’d been searching for. In fact, he was so delicious she might keep him for more than one night. Overcoming her sudden bout of nerves, she lifted her head and, once again, felt his invisible force take hold.
Chance Dannigan didn’t believe in fate. He was a practical man, a physician by trade and a skeptic in anything but a firm belief in his abilities, both as a doctor and a lover. To say fate had led him to this bar to see the unbelievably gorgeous woman would have made him laugh. At least until she’d leveled her bright cerulean eyes at him. Now he wasn’t so certain.
“Hmm?” Had the woman next to him said something? But who cared? His full attention stayed on the gorgeous redhead across the room. The moment her sparkling eyes, hinting at hidden secrets, had landed on him, he’d forgotten the women vying for his attention. Her red hair fell along her shoulders, bringing out the glow of her pale skin. The sapphire of her off-the-shoulders blouse couldn’t match the azure of her eyes and he doubted even the bluest of skies could. Her nose, upturned at the end, made him want to smile, but then her lush full lips drew another more primal instinct from him. If ever he’d seen kissable lips, hers were those lips.
“Beautiful.”
The women circling him tittered, each girl thinking he’d complimented her. But as sexy and as willing as they were, he no longer cared. He curved his lips into a smile that was meant solely for the mesmerizing vixen and saw her accept the gesture with the grace of a queen. She was used to being adored, worshipped and, yes, lusted after. She tipped her head then, laughing at one of the men trying to gain her full attention. In that same moment, Chance’s stomach flipped and a churning burned in his gut. Was she toying with him?
He wanted her. He wanted her more than any woman he’d ever seen. She had a face that could not only launch ships, but could send them sailing off the edge of the world. And although the men blocked his view, allowing him only glimpses of her body, he knew he wouldn’t be disappointed. Any woman who stood the way she did, shoulders back, head held high, resonating pride and self-assurance, would no doubt have the body to match. He licked his lips, sending an overt invitation.
Two can play at this game, beautiful.
She blinked, and he knew he’d thrown her, thrilling him with the small victory. Score a point for me.
Her lips parted as if in invitation, making him wonder if she would answer him by mimicking his gesture and, for a second, he held his breath in anticipation. Regaining his confidence, he scanned her, letting her know he liked what he saw. She laughed, an act that brought smiles to the men around her, but he knew her act was meant for him alone. He played it cool, but the churning in his gut grew stronger.
Score a point for Red.
She was a woman after his own heart, a woman hunting for a sexual playmate. Tossing her hair, she studied him as she leisurely sipped her drink. At once, the air around him thickened, heated from her unseen torch, her sexuality blazing across the room. She would make any man beg to lie between her legs and, God help him, he desperately wanted to be that man. But he’d be damned if he’d let her know just how much he wanted her. She was like a wild horse, free and spirited.
No, his usual methods wouldn’t work. She needed a special kind of taming. And he was just the man to tame her.
He waited for her to look at him again, then winked. She froze, her drink halfway to her mouth, and stared.
“Chance, could I get you another drink?”
He forced himself to answer the woman on his right. What was her name? Lucy? He couldn’t remember, although he’d considered taking her home earlier in the evening. Now, she was just one of many unseen faces.
“No, thanks. I’ll get my own.” The women complained as they grasped his arms to keep him with them, but he begged off and strode to the bar.
“Bartender, I need another whiskey along with whatever the redhead across the room is drinking.” Chance tipped his head in the mesmerizing woman’s direction, then watched her image reflected in the mirror behind the bar. Her eyes widened as their gazes met, then she quickly looked away. He stifled a grin. He’d hoped that she’d followed his move, and she hadn’t disappointed him. All he had to do was to stay calm and reel her in.
“Her name’s Meg.”
“What’d you say?” Chance squinted at the bartender. Jealousy, an unfamiliar emotion, swirled, ready to break free. Were the bartender and the re
dhead a couple? He hoped not. He drew the line at taking another man’s woman.
“I said her name is Meg.” The bartender extended his hand, and Chance shook it, already planning on congratulating the lucky bastard. “I’m Tom Halloran and this is my club. My wife’s the gorgeous blonde talking to the dark-haired beauty at the end of the counter.”
Chance glanced at the two women who were in a deep discussion and nodded, acknowledging the accuracy of Tom’s description. Both women were stunning in their own way, but they couldn’t match the third woman’s beauty. The knot in his stomach eased.
“And she—” Tom pointed toward the beautiful redhead, “—is my sister-in-law, Meg Tristan. Trust me, buddy, if you don’t want your heart ripped out, you’ll stay away from her.”
Chapter Two
Relief swept through Chance. “I take it you don’t like your sister-in-law?” He’d heard of men hating their mother-in-law, but hating your wife’s sister didn’t happen as often. Did all men feel the same way about her? Or was it just a family thing?
“No, don’t get me wrong. That’s not what I meant. Meg’s terrific.” Tom slid a cloth over the counter. “As a sister-in-law. But as a girlfriend—”
“Whoa. Hold up. Who said anything about a girlfriend?” Where was this guy going? Chance glanced at Meg by way of the mirror again. She was certainly one-night-stand material. Maybe even affair-worthy. But thinking about a relationship? Not him. Yet Tom had him intrigued.
“I see. Then you’re thinking of a one-night-stand kind of thing?”
So the guy had a way of reading minds. Although a bartender would come to that conclusion a lot with all the hook-ups he saw. He gave Tom a quick appraisal and didn’t note any signs of animosity. Still, it was better to be safe.
“Truthfully, hook-ups are more my style. But, hey, if you want me to back off because she’s your wife’s sister, then just say the word. I don’t want to cause any trouble, especially since I just moved here.” He wanted her, but causing problems in a small town like Cottageville didn’t make sense. He looked her way again and swallowed hard when her blue eyes found his. Although if any woman was worth ruffling a few feathers…
