Make You Mine

by Niobia Bryant

  “For 8 A.M . coffee sounds like a better bet,” Bianca countered.

  “Some barkeep you make. All that advice without the actual, huh, what…liquor, that’s right, Sweetie.”

  “Nothing but coffee ’round here,” Bianca said, taking a deep sip of her iced brew. “Want a cup?”

  Mimi rolled her elaborately made-up eyes—she was so dramatic. “Sweetie, I’d rather be buried in a Wal-Mart, okay,” she said with a shiver.

  Bianca doubted Mimi had even seen the inside of a Wal-Mart, or even knew where to find one. She frowned as she watched Mimi open her purse and extract a silver monogrammed flask.

  “Bianca, a lady is always, huh, what…prepared, that’s right,” she said, before taking a small swig. “Now, I usually have the cul de sac all to myself this time of day. Whatcha doing home, Sweetie?”

  “A mare foaled last night.”

  Mimi wiped the corners of her mouth with her index finger and politely placed the flask back in her purse. “Honey, I’m waiting for the English translation, okay, right.”

  Bianca smiled as she folded her arms over her chest and leaned back against the marble counter. “I delivered a horse’s baby,” she explained patiently, ready for the drama. Mimi didn’t fail her one bit.

  She made a comical face of pain as she pressed her knees together.

  Mimi didn’t have any children. Bianca didn’t know if it was by choice or not.

  Deciding to egg her on Bianca said, “Pulling the foal out with chains by its legs wasn’t the hard part—”

  Mimi shivered and crossed her slender legs.

  “Now sticking my arm inside the horse’s vagina to turn the foal—”

  Mimi pretended to gag. “T.M.I., Doc. T…M…I.”

  Bianca flung her head back and laughed, unable to stop the hoglike snort that always came with her laughter. T.M.I. was Mimi’s acronym, for “too much information.”

  “I don’t know what’s worse, Sweetie. The image of your arm up a horse’s ass or that laugh, Sweetie. You need to, huh, what…work on it, that’s right.”

  “Shut up, Mimi,” Bianca said with a deadpan expression. “At least I’m not known for the oh-so-clever sitcom saying “You and me makes we.”

  Mimi looked off into the distance—something she did whenever she was discussing the sitcom. “Oh, yes. A better time. And it kept me from being lined up to swallow the scent of horse ass, Sweetie.”

  Bianca had to laugh at that one. “Listen, this is fun, but some people got a job, Mimi.”

  She rose, sticking her purse under her arm. “Alright, Sweetie, I’m going. I have a save the children or feed the whales breakfast thingy.”

  “Isn’t it Save the Whales and Feed the Children?”

  Mimi just waved her hand before moving to the kitchen door. “As long as they can cash the check, they don’t care what I call it.”

  Bianca shook her head.

  Mimi opened the door and paused, turning to look at Bianca. “Listen, Sweetie, is what they say about a male horse’s…uhm, well, you know…jingy-thingy. Is that…is that true, Sweetie?”

  Very tongue in cheek, Bianca answered, “Big as my arm,” with a meaningful stare.

  Mimi sighed as she patted her perfectly coiffed French roll and leaned a little against the door with a soft smile.

  “Mimi?” Bianca said to nudge the woman out of her reverie.

  “Just made me think of Vincent, my third husband, Sweetie. Now it’s so hard to say he was good for nothing.”

  With nothing to say about that , Bianca started walking out the kitchen. “Goodbye, Mimi,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Toodles, Sweetie.”

  The door closed behind her.

  Bianca climbed the spiral wrought iron staircase to the second level of her home. As she strolled into her master suite she looked at her watch. It was 9:30 A.M . Just enough time to shower, change, and head to her clinic for a 10:30 A.M . appointment. Her next appointment after that was at 1 P.M ., and she was hoping to visit Mr. Sandman as much as she could before then.

  Bianca removed the scrubs she kept in her car for emergency vet calls like last night. Dressed only in the beautiful lace thong she originally put on under her evening gown, Bianca took another deep sip of her drink as she moved over to her night table to check her messages. She had a service answer work-related calls and she’d already checked those messages during her drive from Sandy Springs.

  “Hi, this is Bianca. Do what you need to do.”

  Beep .

  Bianca studied her reflection in the oval mirror in the corner, twisting and turning to see if any new cellulite had moved onto her thighs.

  “Bunny…uh, I mean Bianca—”

  She paused at the sound of her father’s gravely and distinctive voice. The thought that the days of him calling her by the childhood pet name were gone pained her.

  “Call me when you get a chance.”

  Bianca lowered her hands from examining the pertness of her breasts—and wondering when a man would touch, tease, and taste them again—to reach out for the cordless phone sitting on its base.

  Beep .

  “Bianca—”

  Her hand paused just above the phone and her face became confused at hearing her father’s voice…again.

  “Never mind.”

  The line went dead.

  Beep .

  Snatching up the phone she quickly dialed her father’s number.

  “King Ranch.”

  “Daddy, this is Bianca. Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He remained quiet—and that was more telling than anything he could have said.

  “Daddy?” she asked with more firmness in her voice—like she was the parent and he was the child. Bianca pressed the phone closer to her face. “What is it?”

  “I need your help. You gotta come home, Bianca.”

  Hot Like Fire

  Prologue

  “¿Me das este baile?”

  Garcelle Santos looked over her bare shoulder at the tall and handsome dark-skinned man requesting a dance at the wedding reception of Kahron Strong and his new bride, Bianca. The man was Bianca Strong’s friend from Atlanta. Armand Touissant.

  There was no denying the interest in his eyes, but Garcelle was looking for nothing more than someone to dance and maybe laugh with. She smiled as she placed her hand in his and let him twirl her rather dramatically onto the center of the dance floor. She actually flung her head back and laughed as he pulled her body to his while Syleena Johnson’s “I Am Your Woman” played.

  “You are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life,” he whispered in her ear, with his hand at the small of her back.

  “Thank you,” was all that Garcelle said. She hoped that was the end of the talking.

  But he continued with his compliments, even trying to press Garcelle’s body closer to his. She stepped back from him, with a chastising smile. As they two-stepped, she looked over his broad shoulder with her beautiful, doe-shaped eyes. All of Holtsville was in attendance. Some faces she recognized, and others she didn’t.

  Kahron and Bianca were dancing together in a playful
and sexy way. There was no denying the love and passion. The fire burns between them so strongly, Garcelle thought, wishing them well as Armand guided their bodies into a series of turns.

  Bianca’s father, Hank, was dancing with that whacky Mimi. They made an odd pair: he was so tall and broad, while she was so petite and crazy as hell. Garcelle just shook her head at that pairing.

  Kaeden and Kaleb, two of Kahron’s brothers, stood at the bar watching a pretty, dark-skinned beauty saunter by. Kaleb said something, and both men looked absolutely wolfish before they laughed. The Strong men really were strikingly handsome, particularly when all four of the brothers were together. Somehow each of them made having prematurely grey hair the sexiest thing ever.

  But one was missing. The mean and sullen one.

  Feeling mischievous, Garcelle swung her head to the left and then to the right. How like him not to enjoy the festivities. When Armand again sent their bodies into a series of turns that drew the attention of the crowd, Garcelle caught a glimpse of silver curls and broad shoulders over in the rear of the reception tent. Alone. She whipped her head around and looked at him, only to find that his intense stare was already locked on her. Her heart raced madly.

  He had once angered her when he accused her of stealing. That day they had insulted each other like children, and now they barely spoke to one another. But she couldn’t deny that of all the sexy Strong brothers, he was the most divine. And the thought of his eyes on her made her muy caliente .

  The music changed to an up-tempo song, and Garcelle broke free of Armand’s hold, grabbed the full skirts of her crimson dress, and began dancing the salsa all alone. Soon the dance floor cleared, and she was left alone to give in to the passion and electricity of the dance. But she noticed no one. No one but Kade.

  Her eyes were locked on him. Even when she spun, she would stop so that she was facing him, and their eyes would lock once more. With each of her spins, she found he was moving closer and closer to the edge of the dance floor.

  Garcelle enjoyed the warmth of his eyes as she handled the footwork with ease. The crowd applauded her. She moved her body like a snake when need be. She gy-rated her hips like she was working a hoola hoop. She danced like her life was dependent on it.

  She danced for him, and even though he stood there, with his hands in his pants pocket, his face the same brooding and unchanging mask, she knew he had not missed one bit of it.

  When the music came to an end, Garcelle spun her body across the dance floor until she came to a dramatic stop before him, with her flared skirt floating in the air before it slowly drifted down around her shapely legs. Everyone applauded her, but Garcelle’s eyes were locked on Kade’s. Pure electricity ran through her body.

  Even as she moved away from him, casting one last look at him over her shoulder, Garcelle knew that in that one moment, everything between them had changed.

  Chapter One

  Two Months Later

  As soon as the alarm clock sounded and woke him from his sleep, Kade Strong rolled out of bed. No snoozing. No lounging. No adjusting to being awake. No sitting on the side of the bed until he got out of that half asleep–half awake zone. Just up and at ’em. It was time for a hard day’s work, and he didn’t mind it one bit.

  Five years ago, when his father decided to semi-retire from running the daily operation of the ranch, he turned it over to Kade, his oldest son. And Kade had been profoundly touched that his father had entrusted him with Strong Ranch. Kade had always worked the ranch along with his brothers, but now he initiated new ideas and made it his business to take the ranch into the future. So he went from paid manager of the farm to part owner. He never wanted to fail his father or ruin a highly successful business. So if continued success meant working right along with their forty ranch hands from dawn to dusk, then Kade was more than willing to do it. Be sides, he always had been a hands-on type of man. Sitting in an office, making sure he didn’t get dirt under his nails, wasn’t his thing.

  Nude, he strode into the adjoining bath of his bedroom and relieved himself, with a long sigh. After flushing the commode, he stretched before he started the shower. He looked down at the sink. One washcloth. One towel. One toothbrush. One rinse cup. One of everything in his life. Constant reminders that he was alone now.

  It had been close to three years since his wife, Reema, had passed away. Years that seemed like forever without her.

  That’s why he hated to be in bed alone. A pillow to hold at night was a poor substitute for spooning his wife. Holding her. Smelling the scent of her hair and her neck. Teasing her nipples in the last moments before he dozed off. Her hand reaching back to lightly rest on his thigh. Their innocent embrace suddenly turning to hot caresses and the most passionate lovemaking ever. The unique scent of their sex. Intimacy. Affection. Love.

  Sighing, he stepped inside the shower, pulling the curtain closed as the steam surrounded his body. As he began to lather his washcloth, his elbow slammed against the tiled wall. He winced and swore. The dimensions of the bathtub left a lot to be desired for a man of his size. Six foot five and 225 pounds, Kade was solid and strong. Trying to shower—or God help him—bathe in a bathroom fit for someone under six feet was more injurious to his body than working the ranch.

  For a second, as he dragged the soapy cloth across his ridged abdomen, he thought of the master suite at his own house. Reema had made sure everything had been custom built to fit him. The high ceilings. The extra long bed. The oversized Jacuzzi tub. The tiled shower big enough for him to spin in.

  The night before Reema died had been his last night in that house. He hadn’t been back since. He hadn’t wanted to return.

  Kade finished his shower and rushed to get dressed in one of the nearly thirty Dickies uniforms in the closet. As soon as he pulled on his Tims, he left the room and walked across the hall to look in on his seven-year-old daughter, Kadina. Even though he knew she was sleeping, because of the predawn hour, every workday he liked to look in on her before he went out to work the ranch.

  She was the only thing that had kept him sane in the first few months after Reema’s death. He had had to at least pretend to be strong for his child. Strong. Humph, sometimes he had found it so hard to live up to his name.

  Kade shut her bedroom door and jogged down the stairs. The scent of coffee hit him before he even reached the bottom step. Ever since he was a little boy, his mother had gotten up with his father, made him a cup of coffee, and fixed his breakfast before he left to work the ranch every day. Thirty years later, the tradition lived on.

  At the sight of his parents, Kade came to a halt just before stepping into the kitchen. His father, Kael, was sliding his hand under his mother’s knee-length gown. It was not exactly the warm family scene Kade wanted to be a part of.

  Kade backtracked and headed down the hall to the front door. As badly as he craved his morning cup of coffee, he wanted to respect his parents’ privacy. He lived with them, and he didn’t want to be an intrusion.

  Kade jogged down the stairs and climbed into his Ford Expedition. Although he had every intention of heading toward the rear of the ranch, he followed an instinct and, instead, steered his vehicle down the winding road leading to the main highway, in the direction of Summerville, South Carolina. His heart raced a bit as he eventually made the turn off of Highway 17. His grip on the wheel tightened. His body jostled as he drove down the dirt road, swerving around crater-sized potholes.

  Set back in the center of three acres of land was the house. His house. He climbed out of the SUV, with his eyes fixed on the tw
o-level brick structure of over three thousand square feet. With the Strong Ranch hands keeping up the maintenance of the land as he requested, it appeared to be a warm home awaiting the return of the family, but that house had not been a home for years.

  Kade slid his large hands into the pockets of his navy Dickies pants. The silver curls of his prematurely gray hair glistened in the rising sun. Memories unfolded before him like a movie, causing a soft smile to play at his supple lips.

  Kade climbed the steps, with his keys in hand, but the front door swung open before he reached the top step. He was surrounded by the sweet and subtle scent of his wife’s perfume just before she leaned her tall, full, and curvaceous figure against the door frame, with a welcoming smile filled with the love he knew she had for him.

  He paused for a second at the top step as his love—that deep, lasting, one-of-a-kind love—filled his chest. Reema was his wife, his friend, his lover, the mother of his child, the keeper of his secrets, and the believer in his dreams. He couldn’t imagine his life without her.

  “Hey, you,” he greeted her as his smile broadened and his bottomless dimples deepened. It was their first night in their new home. The first of many more to come.

  Reema flung her braids over her shoulders as she stepped forward to press her hands against his broad chest and her lips to his. “Welcome home, baby,” she said softly against his mouth.

  Their eyes locked as Kade pressed his hands against her hips and deepened the kiss.

  “Kadina’s upstairs napping. Dinner’s in the oven keeping warm….”

  Kade grinned wolfishly as he bent slightly to swing her ample, curvaceous body up into his strong arms with well-practiced ease. He stepped inside the house and used his foot to kick the front door closed behind them.