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Bachelor Untamed

Page 2

by Brenda Jackson


  Deciding she needed something to eat before she began unpacking, Ellie left her aunt’s bedroom and began walking down the stairs, remembering how her aunt, who hadn’t been sick a day in her life, had died peacefully in her sleep. Although Ellie knew she would miss her, she felt it was befitting for her to go that way—without any type of sickness to destroy her mind and body. And from what she could tell, although Aunt Mable had probably been lonely at times living out here at the lake, her aunt was happy. At least she had appeared happy and content the last time Ellie had seen her. And she had left everything she owned to her one and only grandniece. Ellie was overwhelmed by such a grand gesture of love.

  She walked into the kitchen and immediately noticed the new cabinets. It seemed her aunt had given the house a face-lift, one that had been beautifully done. There were new marble countertops, stainless steel appliances and polished tile floors.

  The drive from Boston had been a long one, and Ellie had stopped by one of those fast-food places to grab a hamburger, fries and a shake before getting off Interstate 95. Then, once she had reached Gatlinburg, she stopped at a market to pick up a few things for dinner, deciding that later in the week she would take an inventory of what she would need for her month-long stay at the lake. It was a beautiful day, the first week in August, and the first thing Ellie intended to do tomorrow was open up the windows to air out the place. The living-room window was huge, wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling and provided a lot of sunlight and a beautiful view of Cavanaugh Lake, no matter where you stood or sat.

  Crossing the kitchen floor, she opened the pantry and wasn’t surprised to find it well stocked. Her aunt was known to prepare for the winter months well in advance. Settling on a can of soup for dinner, she proceeded to warm it on the stove.

  Standing at the kitchen sink, she glanced through the trees to look at the house that used to be owned by the Lassiters. She could easily recall how often she would stand in this very spot, hoping for a glimpse of Uriel when he would come outside. But she had discovered long ago that the best view from her aunt’s bedroom window was that of the backyard and pier.

  A half hour later, Ellie had finished her soup and was placing her bowl in the sink when she glanced out the window and saw that a car was parked in front of the house next door. She lifted a brow, wondering if perhaps the new owners had decided to spend some time at their lake place.

  Ellie had parked her car in the garage, so they would not know someone was in residence at her place. Her place. That seemed so strange, when this home had belonged to Aunt Mable for so long.

  She was about to turn around and go upstairs to start unpacking when something caught her eye. She drew in a tight breath as she leaned closer toward the window to make sure her eyesight wasn’t playing tricks on her.

  The man who had come to stand outside on the front porch, while talking on a cell phone, was older-looking now, but was just as handsome as she remembered. She was twenty-six now, which meant he was thirty-one.

  She might be mistaken, but it appeared he had gotten taller. She figured his height to be at least six foot three. The T-shirt he was wearing covered broad shoulders and his jeans were molded to firm thighs. Her gaze slid to his face. The color of dark chocolate, his features were and always had been striking, a pleasure to look at.

  Ellie scanned his face, from the thick brows that canopied a pair of beautiful dark eyes, to the long, angular nose that sat perfectly in the center of his face and more than highlighted the sensuous shape of his lips, to the perfect lines of his jaw. Strong. Tight. Every feature was totally flawless. Him standing there in his bare feet made her think of a chocolate marshmallow all ready to eat.

  The thought of that made her stomach stir, generated a tingling sensation even lower, and it made the nipples of her breasts that were pressing against her blouse feel achy. She quickly moved away from the window, crossed the room and sat down at the table.

  Uriel Lassiter had returned to the lake house, and the one thing she knew for certain was that he hadn’t made sure she wasn’t there.

  Uriel threw his head back and laughed. He was still in shock. One of his closest friends from college, who was also one of his investment partners, had called to let him know he was getting married. He just couldn’t believe it. Who in their right mind would have thought that there was a woman somewhere capable of winning the heart of Donovan Steele. The Donovan Steele. The man who always claimed he wanted to be buried wearing a condom, because even then he knew he would be hard.

  Uriel had the pleasure of meeting Donovan’s woman a few weeks ago. With a PhD and a professorship at Princeton, Natalie Ford had just as much brains as she had beauty. And she was a beauty. That was one of the first things Uriel had noticed that night when she had come storming into the Racetrack Café, ready to give Donovan hell about something. Evidently, their disagreement had gotten resolved, since Donovan was now talking about a wedding.

  “Hey, Don, we’re going to have to get together when I return to Charlotte,” he said. “And we’ll make it one hell of a celebration. Have the two of you set a date yet?”

  “We’re having a June wedding,” Donovan replied easily. “After we marry, she’ll take a sabbatical to write another book and work on several projects with NASA. You can’t imagine how happy my family is.”

  Uriel could just imagine. Donovan, the youngest of the Steele brothers, headed the Product Administration Division of the Steele Corporation, and Uriel was Vice President of Lassiter Industries, the telecommunications company his father, Anthony Lassiter—CEO and president—had founded over thirty-eight years ago.

  Although both he and Donovan had major roles at their family-owned businesses, years ago, right out of college, they had partnered in a co-op. They had started out by flipping real estate, and later moved on to small businesses. The co-op had proven to be highly successful, and they had moved on to even larger investments, like the publishing company they had recently purchased.

  Two years ago, Uriel’s father had taken a leave of absence due to stress and depression brought on when the wife he’d been happily married to for over thirty-five years asked for a divorce. That had forced Uriel to take over the day-to-day operations of Lassiter Industries.

  Uriel was glad his dad had finally snapped out of his depression, decided life was too short to drown in self-pity over a woman whom you still loved but didn’t want you, and had returned to Lassiter Industries sharper than ever. Uriel had quickly turned things back over to him and decided to take some much needed R and R. The lake house was his first choice. His parents had been forced to sell it, so he decided to be the buyer.

  “While you were in Princeton yesterday, I signed my part of the paperwork, so that the consulting firm could proceed with our most recent acquisition,” he said of the publishing company they’d just purchased. “Now, you need to make sure you swing by their office on Friday to put your John Hancock on the papers, so they can officially begin going through the books to see what areas we want to keep and those we want to trim.

  “I know Bronson has a race next weekend in Michigan, and I promise you’ll be out of Manning’s office in no time just in case you’re planning to go,” he added, mentioning their friend, Bronson Scott, who raced for NASCAR.

  “Yes, I’m going and will be taking Natalie with me. I can’t wait to introduce her to the world of auto racing. What about you? Will you be there?” Donovan asked.

  “Umm, not this time. With Dad back at the helm at Lassiter Industries, I’m staying here at the lake for an entire month, and plan on getting in a lot of fishing. And I did bring some papers with me on the publishing company, to do my own evaluation. I’ll let you know what I come up with, and I’ll compare it with the recommendations of those consultants.”

  Less than five minutes later, Uriel was ending the call with Donovan. He slipped his cell phone in the back pocket of his jeans and decided to sit down on the porch swing his father had built for his mom years ago.

  His m
om.

  Uriel could only shake his head with sadness whenever he thought of her and the pain she had caused his father. The pain she had caused him. When his parents had first told him they were getting a divorce, they’d shocked the hell out of him. All it took was to see the hurt and sadness in his father’s eyes to know that a divorce hadn’t been Anthony Lassiter’s idea.

  Neither of his parents had wanted to talk about the reason for the divorce, and had asked that he simply accept their decision. It hadn’t taken long for him to find the reason. His mother had been going through a midlife crisis, which had been evident when she’d hooked up with a boy-toy within months of leaving his father. His mother, for God’s sake, was openly living with a man only six years older than him.

  Carolyn Lassiter, he had to admit, was a beautiful woman at fifty. The first time Uriel had seen her lover with her at a restaurant, Uriel had wanted to smash the dude’s face in. No man wanted to think of his mother in the arms of any man other than his father.

  Her actions had not only nearly destroyed his father, but had left a bad taste in Uriel’s mouth where marriage was concerned. That was the reason he had joined the Guarded Heart Club, a private fraternity he and his five godbrothers had established. Each had his own reasons for wanting to remain a bachelor for life.

  He was about to get up from the pier and go inside, when he glanced through the trees at the house next door. He’d been sorry to hear about Ms. Mable’s passing and missed her already. Whenever his parents would arrive for their three-month summer stay, the older lady would be there ready to greet them with a cold pitcher of the best lemonade he’d ever drunk and a platter of her mouth-watering peanut butter cookies.

  He pulled in a deep breath thinking how much he loved it here. Gatlinburg was less than ten miles away, and there were only two houses on Cavanaugh Lake. The only other homes were about five miles down the road on Lake Union. Both lakes were nestled in a wooded area within a stone’s throw of the Smoky Mountains.

  The fresh August air filled his lungs. Nothing relaxed him more than sitting on the pier with a fishing rod in his hand and a cooler of beer not far away. As he’d mentioned to Donovan, he brought along some reading material, but he would work it in. At the moment, well-deserved R and R was at the top of his agenda.

  He stretched his body thinking after taking a nap he would go skinny-dipping. It was something he could truthfully say he’d always wanted to do. Now he had the chance. With the house next door vacant, he didn’t have to worry about shocking the socks off anyone.

  He lay back and looked forward to his naked swim, all alone in the lake.

  Chapter 2

  Ellie finished putting the last piece of her clothing away, after deciding to sleep in her aunt’s bedroom instead of the guest room she’d used whenever she would come to visit. Tomorrow she would start going through her aunt’s things. She would donate the clothes to the Salvation Army, and any items of her aunt’s that Ellie considered as keepsakes would be put away in the attic, to one day be passed on to her offspring.

  She could only shake her head, wondering how she could think of a family when she didn’t even have a boyfriend. Her last serious relationship had been a few years ago, right out of college.

  His name was Charles Wilcox, and the affair had lasted far longer than it should have. Never had she met a more boring man, one whose sole purpose in life other than his job as a computer programmer was his fixation with pro wrestling. He practically lived for the WWE Smackdown.

  She had landed her first job after college as a financial advisor with a major bank, and she thought her career was set for a while—only to get laid off in the first year. Instead of trying to compete in a job market that hadn’t seemed to be going anywhere, she decided to go back to college to obtain her masters degree. She had graduated last week, but intended to chill a few months before going back into the job market.

  She glanced out the bedroom window. The sun had gone down and pretty soon night would come, and she would need to turn on the lights. Once she did, there was no way Uriel wouldn’t know someone was occupying her aunt’s home. Would he immediately assume it was her? And if he did, would he hightail it back to Charlotte?

  But then, there was a possibility he didn’t even remember what had happened that summer day on the pier. After all, ten years had passed. However, she could not forget the ice-cold look he had leveled at her when he’d pretty much told her he never wanted to see her again.

  She was about to leave the room to go downstairs when the ringing of her cell phone stopped her. Her parents were presently out of the country, taking a well-earned vacation in the Bahamas. It was probably them checking to see how she was doing. Being the only child, she’d always had a special relationship with her parents.

  A quick check of the caller ID screen indicated the phone call was from Darcy and not her parents. “Hello.”

  “What’s up, El? You didn’t call to let me know you’d arrived safely.”

  Ellie smiled. Darcy was acting the mother hen as usual. “Sorry, but I got busy as soon as I got here,” she said, dropping into the chair next to the window.

  “Have you started going through your aunt’s things yet?”

  “No, not yet. I’ve decided to put it off until tomorrow. Right now the only thing I want to do is rest. I don’t care if I ever read another book again,” she said.

  Darcy laughed. “Hey, you just haven’t read the right book. Now that you have time, you need to read one by Desiree Matthews.”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. Darcy, who was a corporate executive with the city of Minneapolis, had gotten married right out of college and had gotten a divorce within the first year, when her husband, Harold, began showing abusive tendencies. The first time it happened, by the time the police arrived, Harold had been on the losing end, discovering how well his wife could defend herself. Evidently, Darcy had never told him she had taken karate while growing up.

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need to read a book that gets me all hot and bothered,” Ellie said, pushing the curtain aside when she thought she saw movement through the trees.

  “Trust me, reading about it is better than doing something stupid like making booty calls. Besides, sex isn’t all Desiree Matthews’s books are about. They’re love stories, and there’s plenty of romance between the two people. You root for the hero and heroine to work out their problems and get together.”

  “Yippee,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes and twirling her finger in the air. “Romance or sex is the last thing I need right now. You have a tendency not to miss what you never got a lot of anyway.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. And speaking of romance and sex, did that guy you went out with two weeks ago call you back?”

  Ellie shook her head. “Nope. Just as well. He was ready for us to make out on the first date, and that wasn’t going to happen.”

  She was about to pull the curtains together when something again caught her gaze. She strained her eyes to look through the trees and blinked, not believing what she was seeing. A naked Uriel Lassiter. “Damn.”

  “El? What’s wrong? Why did you curse just now?”

  “Trust me. You don’t want to know,” she said, easing back from the window so she couldn’t be seen, but keeping her gaze glued to the man walking toward the pier.

  “I do want to know. What is it? Tell me. Tell me now.”

  Ellie wanted to roll her eyes at Darcy’s persistence, but didn’t. If she rolled her eyes she might miss something, and she intended to keep her gaze focused on Uriel.

  “Ellie Mable Weston, tell me!”

  Seeing that Darcy wasn’t about to let up, she said, “It’s Uriel.”

  There was a pause. And then, “Uriel Lassiter?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s there at the lake house? Oh, El, that’s wonderful.”

  “What’s so wonderful about it?” Ellie asked, as she continued to stare at Uriel. The only wonderful thing she could think of at the moment w
as seeing such a nice looking hunk of dark chocolate. The man was built, superbly so. She wasn’t close enough to see his front, but his profile and back were simply magnificent.

  Ellie couldn’t believe that he was walking around stark naked, regardless of the fact he assumed no one was living at her aunt’s place.

  “I think it’s wonderful that he’s ten years older and so are you. Chances are, he’s forgotten all about that stunt we pulled that summer.”

  “Don’t count on it. Some men have long memories.”

  “Well, what did he say to you when he saw you? Did he act like he is still angry?” Darcy asked.

  “He doesn’t know I’m here yet. I’m upstairs in my aunt’s bedroom and watching him through the window.”

  “Oh. What is he doing? What is he wearing?” Darcy asked excitedly. As usual, she wanted every single detail. “Has he changed much over the years? Is he still good-looking?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? What do you mean, nothing?”

  “Darcy, please keep up. You asked what Uriel was doing and what he was wearing, and the answer to both questions is nothing.”

  There was a pause. “Nothing? Are you saying the man is naked?”

  “Yep, that’s what I’m saying. I think he’s about to go skinny-dipping in the lake.”

  “What parts of him can you see?” Darcy was not ashamed to ask.

  “Mostly the back—and before you ask, the answer is yes. He is as fine as fine can be. Extremely well built. It’s quite obvious that he works out regularly.” Ellie nervously bit her lip when Uriel eased into the water. It was only then that she rested her eyes. “I shouldn’t be spying on him like this. It’s not right.”

  “Hell, yes it is,” Darcy almost screamed in her ear. “If I was there I would be pulling out a pair of binoculars and getting an eyeful. Men are known to girl-watch, so what’s wrong with us boy-watching?”

 

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