by Desiree Holt
Cade.
Unconsciously, she rubbed her heart when she thought of him. The ache hadn’t diminished. Not even a little. She knew Amy’s words had stung, but she wanted to tell him she didn’t believe the woman. That the Cade Hannigan she knew was a lot better than that. Especially the new one. If only he’d given her just five minutes.
The triumvirate, as she’d taken to calling them, had gone out of their way to make amends. Jinx had refused to charge her for either the ad or the printing of the folders. Reenie had designed a gorgeous web site and hooked her into a national network. She didn’t want money either, but Georgie had insisted. And Amy had organized a telephone tree, reaching out to everyone in the Cattlemen’s Association to show up today and bring their friends.
Several people had made reservations for family members for holiday weekends and her phone had been ringing steadily since the web site had gone live. At least she didn’t have to worry if her business was going to be a success. But it was a hollow victory without the man she loved to share it with.
Yes, loved. She’d finally said the words out loud to herself. If only she’d found a way to tell him before everything had gone to hell.
Sighing, she took advantage of a lull in questions to head for the kitchen and get a glass of iced tea and a few minutes alone. As she opened a cupboard door to reach for a glass, a hard wall of male chest pressed against her back and a familiar hand closed over hers.
“I’ll get it for you.”
The familiar low, deep voice made her shiver. She turned and found herself pressed so closely to another body that she felt everything from the buttons on his shirt to the zipper on his fly.
“C-Cade?”
One corner of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. “Have I been gone so long you forgot what I look like? Out of sight, out of mind?”
Her breath came out in a whoosh. “As if.” She studied his face. “I hear you’re doing good at the Silver Spur.”
“Yeah? And who told you that?”
“Amy and Buck. They both came to see me.”
He gave a short laugh. “I’ll bet that was some visit.”
“Not so much. I wouldn’t let them in the house. Not even when Amy apologized over and over.” She touched his cheek with a hand not quite steady. “You know what bothered me the most?”
“What?”
“That you wouldn’t stop and let us talk it through. I don’t care what those people think. Or anyone else in the county. I told you I’d even be happy to move someplace else.”
He closed his fingers around her hand. “I didn’t want to put you in that position.” He looked around. “Seems despite everything your grand opening is a success.”
“I have to tell you, those three women did everything possible to make up for the fiasco. Not that anything can make up for what they did. What Amy did. But they’re trying.” She cocked her head. “How did you know about today, anyway? What brought you here?”
“You won’t believe it, but Amy came to see me. If I didn’t know her better, I’d think she was actually groveling. She gave me a lot to think about.”
She decided the B&B was aptly named because butterflies had taken roost in her stomach and their wings were doing the quick step.
“And did you? Think about what she said?” She tried her best to keep the hopeful tone from her voice.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “One thing I have to get out here. Amy may have overstated her case at the restaurant, but she has plenty of reason to hate me.”
“W-We talked about that,” she reminded him. “All of that’s in the past. This was supposed to be us going forward. Together.”
He cradled her cheeks in his hands.
“She also told me you love me. Is she right, Georgie? Do you?”
“I do. I can’t hide it, I guess. B-But what about you? How do you feel?”
“The same.” A wealth of emotion danced in his dark-chocolate eyes. “I guess I had to admit it to myself before I could say it to you. I love you, Georgie. Not just for giving me a chance at life, but also at love. Do you think we can start over again?”
“No, I don’t.” She saw hurt flash across his face. “I think we should go forward from here.” She waved at the throngs of people laughing and drinking and talking. “The phone’s been ringing off the hook too. It looks like I’m going to be pretty busy here, running this place.”
“Think you might have need of a handyman?”
She finally managed a smile. “Only if you’re the one who’s handy.”
“For you? Any time. All the time.”
He brought his mouth down to hers, his lips gently rubbing hers before his tongue delved inside. Automatically, she lifted her arms and wound them around his neck. Passion shot through her, and with it, an emotional firestorm that consumed her. Everything around them faded away as he plundered her mouth and his warm hands held her tightly to his body.
When at last he lifted his head, leaving her lips swollen and her mind dazed, she realized noise of some kind surrounded them. Cade was the first to look, his arms tightening around her. But then his mouth curved in a tentative smile as he saw what was happening. The kitchen was filled with people all smiling and clapping.
And standing in front of them all was Amy, her big husband’s arms around her, her hand raised in a thumbs-up gesture.
“I guess I need to get back to business,” Georgie told him, breathless.
“You do,” he agreed. “And later we’ll attend to our own private business. Count on it.”
“I do.” She grinned. “And on you too.”
About the Author
Desiree Holt’s writing is flavored with the rich experiences of her life, including a long stretch in the music business representing every kind of artist from country singer to heavy-metal rock bands. For several years she also ran her own public relations agency handling any client that interested her, many of whom might recognize themselves in the pages of her stories. She is twice a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award, a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award for best BDSM book of the year, winner of two Holt Medallion Awards of Merit, and is published by five different houses. Romance Junkies said of her work: “Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.”
You can find her at www.desireeholt.com and www.desiremeonly.com.
Look for these titles by Desiree Holt
Now Available:
Naked Cowboys
Stark Naked
Buck Naked
Stripped Naked
Coming Soon:
Naked Desire
She didn’t shoot the sheriff…but she’d sure like to strip him down.
Stripped Naked
© 2014 Desiree Holt
Naked Cowboys, Book 3
Taking over as publisher of The Hill Country Herald was supposed to help Jinx Malone put her personal and professional disasters in New York behind her. Instead, she’s barely settled at her desk when news of a murder hits the police scanner.
Who knew Rowan County could be this exciting? And who knew her first story would bring her into head-butting, hormone-pumping contact with something that’s an even bigger pain in her ass than a cheating ex—a know-it-all cop?
Sheriff Dillon Cross thought retreating to Rowan Country would help him get over a bad case of burnout. But only a few weeks into his job, he’s standing over a dead body in a ditch, arguing with his least favorite thing: a sexy, in-your-face reporter.
Before they’re through buzzing around each other like angry hornets, the last thing either expected happens. They’re in bed, burning up the sheets. But is it a new beginning, or just a bad rerun of past mistakes?
Warning: This book contains a nekkid cowboy and enough graphic sex to singe your eye balls. Cool compresses recommended.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Strip
ped Naked:
The new sheriff’s SUV as well as two deputy cars were parked at angles, blocking one lane. Neil Guthrie and another deputy were doing their best to direct traffic around the mess and desperately trying to move along the people who wanted to stop and stare.
Orange cones marked off the area where the body had been found and yellow crime-scene tape was strung as a barricade. The body itself was barely visible, mostly concealed by the people surrounding it. She recognized Ric Nevada crouched down with what she assumed to be his crime-scene kit open next to him. On the other side of him, she spotted Don Obregon, a doctor who doubled as the head of the family clinic that served the county and the medical examiner if and when they needed one.
But it was the man standing behind Ric who caught her attention. She guessed his height at six feet. His broad shoulders strained at the seams of the sport jacket he wore with an open-collared shirt and jeans that clung to long legs that ended in western boots. She’d heard the new sheriff didn’t like wearing the tan uniform that came with the office.
“Informed the commissioner that people should respect the law no matter what he wore,” her father had told her.
Jinx guessed he was right. His presence fairly shimmered with a quiet air of obvious authority and control.
Just as she reached the scene, he turned in her direction and a shock sizzled through her as if electrodes had been attached to her skin. Everything in her body tightened and throbbed and unwanted heat warmed her skin. Instantly, her nipples hardened and her thong became soaked, her body responding to the sight of him with an unexpectedly visceral reaction.
Holy shit!
After the disaster with Max she had so sworn off men, especially hot ones like this one. So why didn’t her body get the message?
His gaze connected with hers and heat flared in his eyes for a quick second. Apparently the same electricity had zapped him too. Then the professional mask was back in place. He placed his hands on his hips, which brushed back the lapels of the jacket just enough for her to catch a glimpse of the gun he wore in a shoulder holster.
“Sorry.” His voice was deep and slightly raspy. “This is a restricted area. My deputies should have stopped you from coming so close.”
She swallowed, hard, and hoped her reaction to him didn’t show.
“Your deputies know who I am.” She held out her hand. “Jinx Malone. I’m the publisher of The Hill Country Herald. I believe you met my father when you first arrived in town.”
“Sheriff Dillon Cross.” He shook hands briefly. “Yes, I did. I thought he ran the paper.”
“Only until this morning.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s right. I think he mentioned he was thinking of retiring.”
“Well, that’s what he did. Gave me the keys and took off with my mother in their camper for parts unknown.”
“Just like that?” The sheriff frowned. “It’s really none of my business, but shouldn’t you know something about running a paper before taking it over?”
What a smartass.
“I know a lot about it,” she snapped. “I grew up with that newspaper and I’ve spent ten years in New York learning even more. I assure you, the Herald is in good hands. And you’re right, it isn’t any of your business. As long as I get the facts right you have nothing to complain about.”
Holy cow, Jinx! Back off a little. Why are you letting this guy push your buttons?
Maybe because I had instant lust the minute I saw him? I can’t afford that. Not now. Not again. Not ever.
“Glad to hear it.” She watched his eyes as he took note of the way she was crowding the tape roping off the area. “I’m sure in New York you also learned you can’t go tramping around crime scenes.”
Jinx pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It wouldn’t do any good to get this man angry at her right off the bat. The publisher of the newspaper was supposed to cultivate goodwill with the locals, not tromp all over it. She’d have to get back to the less-than-frantic ambience of the area all over again.
“You’re right. And I’m not—what did you call it?—tramping around your crime scene.” She tried on a smile. “Just trying to get the facts to report them to my readers. I, um, had them hold the paper so I could get this on the front page of this week’s edition.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I don’t much care for reporters.”
She wanted to smack him. “Well, we should get along just fine since I don’t much care for cops.”
“Fine.” He ground out the word between clenched teeth.
“Fine.” She could be as abrupt as he was. “I’m so glad we understand each other.”
For a long moment he said nothing, just studied her as if she were an alien who had suddenly appeared from outer space. Then he glanced at the three-ring circus taking place along the roadside with the same frown of annoyance.
“Don’t people have anything else to do around here?”
She took in the scene again and couldn’t hold back the laugh. “They’re just curious. You’ll have to get used to it if you plan on staying around. This is the biggest thing to happen around here in the last century.”
“They can be all the curious they want,” he told her, “as long as they don’t get in my way and mess things up.”
She tilted her head, giving him a quizzical look. “Is that meant for me too?”
Two weeks on a beach can deepen more than just their tans.
Texas Fandango
© 2014 Cynthia D’Alba
Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 3
KC Montgomery was eleven when she met the love of her life. Of course, seventeen-year-old Drake Gentry didn’t know she existed, but that didn’t stop her girlish fantasies from growing and changing over the years.
Now, after enjoying a front-row seat to his breakup with his latest girlfriend, she’s been handed an all-grown-up fantasy come true—two weeks at the Sand Castle Resort. With him.
Drake most definitely noticed KC a long time ago, but the timing’s never been right. Now that he’s facing a lonely vacation that was supposed to be for two, it seems only natural to accept KC’s offer to fill in. And as far as her terms go… No strings. No expectations. No holds barred. Drake is no fool—he’s all over it.
But once they’re back in Texas there are invisible strings still hanging between them. Strings labeled attraction, affection…even love. And the more they try to untangle the knots, the tighter they’re bound together.
Warning: Beware of sunburns, whirlpool sex and sand in delicate places.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Texas Fandango:
This woman…this beautiful woman had a thing for him?
His circulatory system shunted all his blood to his groin, which swelled with interest and desire.
“Drake? What are you doing here?” she repeated.
For an additional second, he reconsidered why he’d come. What if Leo had been wrong? Crap. What if he made a total fool of himself?
He cleared his throat. “Do you have a minute? I thought we could talk.”
She picked up the wiggling dog and cocked her head. “About what? You pretty much made your position clear at Leo’s.”
He walked down the porch steps to where she stood on her walkway. “Yeah, about that. I need to apologize.” He tapped the side of his head. “Brain fog.”
“Great,” she said with fake enthusiasm. “Apology accepted.” She swept past him and climbed onto her porch.
“Wait.” He followed her. “What’s his name?” he asked, stroking her dog’s head.
The puppy squirmed in her arms. Drake leaned over and the animal licked his nose.
“Her name is Killer,” KC said.
“Can I?” Drake held out his hands to take the puppy.
KC passed her over.
“Killer? Why, this little lady doesn’t look like a killer.” He nuzzled the dog’s fur. The puppy darted her pink tongue out and tickled his face with tiny licks.
“Yo
u’re just lucky I don’t give the command to kill. She’d rip your lips right off your face.”
He chuckled. “You mean lick my lips right off my face, right?”
She sighed and opened her door. “C’mon in, I guess. If you insist.”
Killer—Drake had serious doubts that was the dog’s real name—and he followed KC into the house. They stood in the foyer as she unclipped the dog’s leash.
“You don’t have to hold her. She’s done her business outside so she can run around.”
He set the tiny bundle on the floor. “What breed is she?”
“Yorkie. She turned six months old last week. Want something to drink?”
“Just water. I’ve had my beer quota for today.” They turned to the right and he followed her into a large, bright kitchen.
“I haven’t.” She pulled a bottle of beer and a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
“Nice place,” he said, taking the water and allowing his gaze to roam. The hardwood floor from the entry continued here. The dark gold and black granite countertops were set off by the glossy white of the cabinets. The black appliances complimented the black swirl in the granite.
The area behind the sink opened up on the dining room just beyond it. Through that large opening, there was an expansive view of a golf fairway.
She shrugged at his comment. “Let’s go to the living room and you can tell me really why you’re here.”
He followed her through the adjacent dining room and then down three steps to a sunken living room. The room had a back circular wall comprised completely of glass, providing the view of the golf course he’d admired from the kitchen. He realized that the sunken room kept the incredible view available to anyone in the kitchen or the dining room.
