Wild Irish (Book 1 of the Weldon Series)
Title Page
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Epilogue
Wild Irish
JenniLeigh Grizzle
Copyright JenniLeigh Grizzle 2009
Published by Between Your Sheets Publishing, LLC at Smashwords
ISBN-13: 978-0-9824863-2-0
ISBN-10: 0-9824863-2-4
Edited by Dayna Linton
Cover by Dayna Linton
Photography by Annette Batista
Cover Models Jeremy Rivenburg and Victoria Julison
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any way without written permission.
First Between Your Sheets Publishing, LLC electronic publication: December 2009
www.betweenyoursheets.com
This book is copyright protected. It cannot be sold to another party, shared with others, or given away as those acts would infringe upon the copyright of this work and deprive the author and publisher of compensation for their hard work.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
WILD IRISH
The Weldon Series: Book 1
Jennifer Saints
Dedication
To all those who fill my life with love. My thanks and deep appreciation for bringing the sum of all things to my heart.
LOVE
Acknowledgments
Wild Irish may be a light, sexy read, but a huge amount of work and effort was involved in bringing it to you as a romance graphic e-book and betweenyoursheets.com’s first release. I would like to thank all of those involved in making this release possible. Annette Batista for her creative genius with a camera. Dayna Linton for her hard work through good times and bad to make betweenyoursheets.com a success. Tracy Clark for her unfailing support, hard work, and for sticking to it no matter what life throws her way. No one could ask for a better sister and publicist. To PJ Ausdenmore for having a sharp eye, fabulous insight, and a big, giving heart. And many thanks to cover models Victoria Julison and Jeremy Rivenburg for their grueling hours and hard work to bring the characters of Alexandria Jordan and Jesse Weldon to life. May your share of the proceeds for these books help you to achieve your dreams.
Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
I Corinthians 13:12-13
WILD IRISH
Chapter One
He was hard and smooth all over, Alexandria Jordan thought as her gaze focused on the broadness of the man’s chest and the nuances of light and shadow playing upon muscle and flesh. Her gaze drifted lower, following the dark line of silky hair as her fingers tingled with the need to touch. Her body thrummed to the vibrant, sensual display of maleness before her that drew her deeper into the past.
“Lexi, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Please, Jesse.” She pressed her yearning body against him. “Please.”
“Damn,” he whispered. “Just damn.” He kissed her back then. Kissed her all the way back to her bed.
No! No! No! For the first time in her adult life, Alexi considered screaming. She wasn’t going to let it happen. She wasn’t going to let the passionate nudes before her sweep her back to a time she just needed to forget. Standing up, she carried each of the five photographs on their easels across her office and faced them away from her desk, firmly telling herself they meant nothing more to her than a profitable donation for the upcoming charity art auction. Then she marched to her desk and concentrated on the papers in front of her, but her body continued to throb like the distant beat of a drum calling her to respond to its needs—to respond to a long ago memory of heart pounding passion and--
“We got naked for nothing,” Nancy Miller said, sauntering into the art gallery’s office. “The whole purpose in indulging in steaming seaweed wraps, honey waxings, and body massages was for you to relax. But you’ve done the opposite. How much longer are you going to sit here and worry?”
Heat flushed Alexi’s cheeks over the minutes she’d wasted staring at the nudes rather than searching for a forgotten detail. She sent Nan her best please-forgive-me smile. “I’m sorry. It’s my last night as a bachelorette and I am wasting our time.”
“I’d tell you that’s what best friends are for, but then we might be here all night.”
Alexi had to smile. “I’ll hurry.” The sensation that something was wrong grew stronger with every passing hour. She was sure she’d overlooked something vital in her lists of instructions for overseeing her art gallery and preparation for the upcoming charity auction. She’d be gone for the next week on her honeymoon, leaving very little time to get ready for the auction when she returned. “Give me three more minutes.”
“I’m setting my watch.”
“Better yet,” Alexi pointed to the easels she’d moved across her office. “Take a look at those and tell me what you think. I’ll be finished by the time you are.”
“No problem.” Nan walked over to the photographs and Alexi concentrated on the lists. If she could find just one thing out of order, she could get rid of this cloud of anxiety hanging over her head, this sense that something wasn’t as it should be. She lived life within the boundaries of perfection and never dared to step out of line—at least she hadn’t since she was seventeen, but that she’d sworn not to think about.
“Wow. I’m hot, bothered, and riveted. These pictures are something.” Nan sounded impressed. "I'm going to have to think about bidding for them myself. It’s like looking at Adam and Eve’s love story. Adam is unbelievable. With models like that, I think I’ll add art to my when-I have-time to do list.”
“I’d hire an Adam for you if I thought you’d work less.”
“If I found an Adam, maybe I’d work less and take pictures. But they’d never be this good. It’s not just him: it’s the whole effect of him with her that makes the pictures so moving, so passionate. You get a real sense of why Adam gave up Eden for Eve by eating the apple.”
“The collection is titled “The Sum of All Things.”
“Did the photographer mean that love and passion are the meaning of life, or that love and passion add meaning to life?”
“Congratulations.”
“What?” Frowning, Nan looked up from the pictures.
“You passed the test. Everybody who looks at the photos gets caught up in the philosophical allegory of them as Adam and Eve and forgets they are nudes that show life-changing passion.” Except for you. You look at the pictures and think… Jesse. No. You can’t. Not now. Still, even though she knew she shouldn’t, Alexi walked over to Nan, drawn to take one more look at the photos before she left. As before, the sense of disquiet inside her grew. Just because the model bore a likeness to Jesse Weldon shouldn’t make her feel this way. Lord, over the years she’d seen a number o
f dark-haired blue-eyed devils and didn’t even get a blip on her radar screen. So why did the nudes grip her? Was it the vibrant sensuality of them?
“I hate to say it, but the reason for your anxiety might be right here in front of you and not a forgotten detail about the auction.”
Alexi narrowed her gaze. “What do you mean?”
“The same thing I said before. You and Roger are marrying because it’s expected. You’re anxious because you’re about to marry a man you’re not passionate over.”
No, Alexi shook her head. She wouldn’t even consider Nan’s suggestion. She turned from the pictures and grabbed her purse ready to get out of there. “You don’t understand,” she said, frowning at Nan. “Roger and I have something better. We’re friends. Believe me, I learned a long time ago that friendship and trust are more important than passion.”
She was not having cold feet. Her feet were warm, almost too warm. And she wasn’t anxious about the wedding. She felt perfectly calm about that.
Southern Society would talk about the Holstead-Jordan wedding for years to come. Alexi’s grandmother had settled for nothing but the best, and had gotten it. She considered herself southern royalty and she lived life accordingly.
Nan didn’t say anything and Alexi felt compelled to explain as they exited the art gallery and she keyed on the alarm system. “Roger is considerate, supportive about my career and the time I spend volunteering at the hospital. We’re comfortable with each other. Not passionate. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No. Nothing is wrong with friendship and trust.” Nan moved to the end of the sidewalk.
Alexi sighed, relieved that she’d made her point. “Exactly.”
“But have you ever dreamed of more, or felt more for someone else?”
“No. Never.” Alexi stepped from the curb and a motorcyclist roared past. She jumped back; her heart racing as her memory leapfrogged her into the past again, calling her a liar.
She’d been at a debutante ball and had made a wrong turn in her search for the ladies room. A group of obnoxiously drunk preppies had decided she needed to accompany them to their room. She’d escaped from them with a torn dress and bruised illusions when she’d ducked through a maintenance door. Unfortunately, that left her stranded outside the hotel in a dark alley. Frightened, she’d run toward the lighted street and accidentally darted in front of a motorcyclist, who’d nearly crashed to avoid hitting her.
“What in the hell are you doing? I almost killed you,” he’d yelled, getting off his bike after he’d come to a screeching halt.
She’d looked at him, so tall, dark, dangerous, and angry, and burst into tears.
“Damn, are you hurt?” His long legs ate up the street before she could move.
“Hey,” he said, reaching out to her. She flinched.
“My God, I won’t hurt you. Talk to me. What’s happened?” He must have seen her torn dress, because he suddenly scooped her up, cursing about castrating some bastard who could do such a thing. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you help. You’re safe now.”
She knew she was then, safe in his strong arms. She told him what happened and convinced him to take her home. The thrill of that ride, the wildness, the body contact of his back to her front as she clung to him, had awakened her to an elemental sensuality she’d never known before. She hadn't known his name, hadn't known where he came from, but she’d felt safe. He’d taken her home and left. She’d dreamed about him that night and when she’d seen him parked on her street corner the next day, she’d secretly left the house and gone to him. The next month had been a blur of wild rides and an explosion of sensual want.
Snapping out of the past with Jesse’s name ringing in her head, Alexi riveted her gaze on the passing motorcyclist until she realized that shape of the man on the bike was all wrong. Even after twelve years she was sure she’d recognize Jesse’s tall, lean, broad-shouldered figure. She remembered exactly how dangerous he looked on a Harley.
“Lexi?” Nan asked. “Are you alright? You look like your worst nightmare just rode by.”
“Yes. I’m fine. It’s…nothing.” She shook her head and gathered her scattered wits. Ever since she’d heard that Jesse Weldon was back in Savannah last week, she’d refused to think about him, refused to remember the past. In fact, she’d done so well in wiping him from her thoughts that she’d honestly believed herself indifferent to him and what he’d done. But then the Adam and Eve pictures had arrived at her studio and everything about her calm world was turning upside down. She forced a smile at Nan. “Just a headache. Let’s go have dinner.”
Nan stared for a long moment. “I’m going on record right now to say that this isn’t good. If you have any doubts at all, Lexi, call off the wedding. Don’t marry Roger unless you’re absolutely sure he’s the one you want. Your grandmother will live through the disappointment. Don’t let duty rule you.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine. The wedding tomorrow will go down in southern history and I will be very happy.”
Alexi sucked in a deep breath wondering why her heart was still pounding so hard.
* * *
Deliciously full from buttered lobster delicacies, and pleasantly mellowed by a Prosecco’s bubbly sweetness, Alexi fell back on her bed with a sigh. By the time she and Nan finished dinner, Alexi’s worry had eased. Everything was fine. The sense of disquiet stealing her calm earlier had been a temporary fluke.
She wasn’t having any sort of crises. Why all evening she hadn’t thought of the pictures or Jesse Weldon at all. And she wouldn’t think about him now either. Splaying her hands against the downy quilt, she dug her fingers into its softness. No, she wouldn’t think about when she’d had him in her bedroom and…
“Jesse,” she cried out his name, pushing her hands beneath his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin. He rolled them over, angled up on his elbow and unbuttoned her shirt. “I have to see you, Lexi. Just once, let me see all of you.”
Never having been naked with a man, both excitement and shyness raced through her as he removed her shirt, her pants, her bra then underwear. When he finished, he stood back and stared at her and sucked in a deep breath. Cool air brushed over her breasts and she shivered even though her heart pounded and her blood raced feverishly through her body.
"God help me, I want you so much,” he said hoarsely.
“Me, too. Let me see you.” She reached for his shirt.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, sunshine.”
“I’m asking for you, Jesse. Take me.”
His blue eyes darkened as his smile faded and he looked dark and dangerous in the play of shadow and light from the moonbeams streaming through the window.
He slid the buttons from his shirt and let it fall to the floor. Then with quick, deliberate movements, he toed off his boots, jerked off his belt, and shucked his jeans.
Touch him, she had to touch him. Had to feel his vibrant heat with her hands. He was so alive. Standing, she splayed her hands over his chest, her senses vibrating with excitement and with need as she explored his velvety heat and lean hard muscles. The dark line of hair trailing down his stomach to the bulging of his jockeys was silky. She wanted to see more, but she also feared what that more would bring. There was a strangeness about their nakedness that excited and frightened her. He pulled her onto the bed and lying next to her, he kissed her, touched her breasts then kissed them. She moaned, she writhed, she wanted to scream, and yet she couldn’t. “Jesse, please!” she cried out again.
Groaning, he rolled away. “This is as far as we go, Lexi.”
“What?”
“I’m all wrong for you, Sunshine. I shouldn’t be here, but I had to see you once more.”
Tears filled her eyes as she hugged him. “No. I love you.”
“You only think you love me. Neither of us know what love really is, Lexi. I’m here with you, because I couldn’t stay away. But when I’m with you, I know it’s not right. Besides that, you’re se
venteen damn years old. Two years may not seem like a lot of difference in our ages, but that difference will get me a jail sentence if I’m caught with you like this. That isn’t any way for a man to start out his life. We just aren’t meant to be.”
“You’re wrong,” she said, even though she’d heard some truth in his words. She’d cried, feeling like her heart was breaking. He’d kissed her and held her until she’d fallen asleep then…
Alexi sprang up from her bed, her heart pounding as she stared at the digital clock. Her wedding was in six hours. Roger! Think Roger! She had six hours to focus on her groom.
CHAPTER TWO
“Perfect. The pearls are perfect.” Katherine Jordan said.
Alexi watched in the mirror as her grandmother pulled on white gloves and adjusted her stylish hat. The weight pressing in on Alexi’s chest grew heavier. “They, uh, are beautiful.”
“They’re yours now, Alexandria. Now you’ll carry the Jordan heritage to the next generation. You and dear Roger will have beautiful children who’ll have the might of Savannah’s two most powerful families behind them. I’m so proud of you.”
Alexi stared in the mirror at the thick band of pearls encircling her neck, wondering why the strands felt so heavy. Kids? She and Roger had yet to decide what they wanted. Roger wanted to wait several years before even thinking about the subject. Alexi cleared her constricting throat. “Give us time. We aren’t even married and you’re hatching great-grandkids.”
“Psst. Too much time has been wasted already. Violet and I had given up hope to see you two together before we died. Having a child soon isn’t too much to ask of either of you.”
Wild Irish (Book 1 of the Weldon Series) Page 1
