Lost in a Stallion's Arms (Kimani Romance)

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Lost in a Stallion's Arms (Kimani Romance) Page 2

by Deborah Fletcher Mello


  A look of confusion washed over Luke’s expression. “So, what does that mean?”

  John leaned forward, his clasped hands moving from his lap to the conference tabletop. “It means that you are now solely responsible for the West End rejuvenation project.”

  Matthew nodded. “We will support whatever you want to do as long as you stay within the parameters dictated by the town council.”

  Mark interjected. “And please, don’t irritate the mayor. We need him on our side.”

  John continued. “The details of the budget and the town council’s criteria are all there. From start to finish you have exactly two years to get this project completed. Right now, you have eight weeks to pull your team together. I need you to give us your assessment of the property acquisitions, any revisions to the original proposal and budget and a detailed timeline. Any questions?”

  “What’s the budget?”

  “One hundred million dollars, and not a penny more. Do you think you can handle it?” John answered.

  Luke nodded, grinning broadly. “I welcome the challenge.”

  Matthew clasped his hands together on top of the table. “We hope so, baby brother. This one’s a big deal. This rejuvenation project will be a coup for the city of Dallas and Stallion Enterprises’ reputation. We’re putting a lot of trust in you. If you really want to impress us, come in twenty million dollars under budget without compromising the integrity of the project.”

  Luke came to his feet, extending a large hand toward John. “You won’t be disappointed,” he said as he shook his brother’s hand, his broad smile warming his dark face. “Thank you for the trust.”

  John nodded. “Just remember, if you need help, don’t be too proud to let someone know. The only stupid question is the one you don’t ask.”

  Pure adrenaline fueled Luke Stallion’s ride from the corporate offices of Stallion Enterprises’ luxury high-rise to the deteriorating Oak Cliff neighborhood the family was intent on revitalizing. It was a typical inner-city, working-class neighborhood renowned for its booming atmosphere back in the 1950s and 60s. Time had painted a new but not improved façade over the landscape despite the efforts of many grassroots and church organizations working to bring the community back to its original glow. The Stallions were hoping to do their part to inject some much-needed energy back into the area.

  Parking his Mercedes coupe on the street, the young man exited the vehicle, set the lock and alarm, deposited six quarters into the meter and set out on foot to explore the strained area.

  The first lesson his brother John had taught them all was to learn every single detail of any venture they were pursuing. The more knowledge gained, the better, inevitably preparing them for the unexpected. Even before graduating from high school, Luke had been allowed to follow behind his brothers as they’d pursued their many business acquisitions. Luke vividly remembered trailing on John’s heels as his brother had inspected every one of the steel ships that would become the cornerstone of their shipping empire. Luke had just been fifteen years old, and at the age of twenty-four his big brother had been recognized as the youngest self-made billionaire CEO.

  Luke recognized that he had some pretty big Texas boots to fill in order to reap half the success John had. The fact that Mark and Matthew had achieved just as much notoriety since joining the family business didn’t make the challenges ahead of him any easier. He welcomed the opportunity to prove himself worthy of his brothers’ trust and looked forward to using this project to garner some attention of his own. He sighed, pausing to study the empty storefronts and dilapidated buildings that landscaped the neighborhood.

  His thoughts trailed back to the earlier banter between him and his siblings. He and Matthew joked good-naturedly about John and Mark marrying as quickly as they had. Both men had fallen head over heels in love before any of them had realized it. Although Luke professed to not being able to imagine himself falling in love and committing to any one woman, he had to admit that the idea had recently become especially appealing.

  Luke liked the changes that had come over Mark and John. They were both more relaxed and easygoing since they’d gotten married. Both of them reeked of pure contentment, seemingly enjoying fabulously full relationships. Luke loved to witness the attention the wives lavished upon them—both Mark’s wife, Michelle, and Marah, John’s wife, committed wholeheartedly to the men in their lives. Luke secretly wished that for himself.

  Being young and single had its moments, Luke mused, but he was hardly determined to keep it that way. For the moment he considered bachelorhood only a game of time and one that he played well, but he wasn’t interested in taking it to a championship. The carefree lifestyle and the many beautiful women that went along with it was one thing, but the emotional security and companionship John and Mark had attained definitely appeared more desirable.

  Being a master of casual romance had begun to grow weary on his spirit, and Luke felt he was almost ready to just let it all go. His big brothers had taught him well, but they’d also shown him that moving on had its positives. As if to prove that thought, Luke couldn’t help but admire an Asian beauty who was peeking out of the door of a small variety store on the corner. He winked an easy eye and tilted his head in greeting as she tossed him a wide smile of snow-white teeth.

  But relationships aside, at this point in his young life, what Luke wanted more than anything else was to prove himself capable of running his own division. In that moment, that was far more important than any romantic commitment could begin to be.

  An hour later Luke had managed to circle the twenty blocks twice, stopping periodically to speak with the residents and remaining shopkeepers to ask their opinion about their neighborhood. Many had eyed him warily but were eventually taken in by his boyish good looks and charismatic demeanor. His warm personality was captivating, drawing people to him, and Luke worked that to his advantage, inciting conversation out of the more wary personalities.

  One of the senior citizens had pointed him in the direction of the local community center, a makeshift facility housed in an abandoned warehouse off Arkansas Avenue. The building was home to the youth and senior centers, the food bank and a temporary shelter for families displaced from their homes. Although maintenance and upkeep of the building were funded through the city’s budget, there was barely enough money to keep the lights on. Infrequent donations from a few generous benefactors and volunteers helped to offset many of the expenses that would have closed the center’s doors and sent many back into the streets to fend for themselves.

  Luke stood at the bottom of the steps of the facility peering up at the glass doors that beckoned him inside. The old man who’d guided him to the entrance pointed with his left index finger, his right hand clutching a brown paper bag as if it were filled with gold. Luke nodded his gratitude.

  “Thanks,” he said, pressing a crisp twenty-dollar bill into the old man’s wrinkled hand. “I appreciate the help.”

  The old guy threw him a toothless grin. “No problem! Like I told you, this here is the heart of Oak Cliff. If you want to know what this neighborhood needs, sonny boy, you’ll find it here,” the man exclaimed excitedly as he turned an about-face, his newly gotten gains waving between his fingers.

  Luke smiled warmly, watching as the man disappeared out of sight. With one last glance over his shoulder he climbed the short span of stairs, pulled the glass doors open and stepped inside.

  A rush of noise and the pungent scent of lemon disinfectant greeted him at the entrance. A large reception area with a massive counter that spanned the lengths of two walls sat at the room’s center. The floor was a checkerboard of black-and-white linoleum, the covering worn thin from age. The walls were painted a vibrant sunshine-yellow, the bright color gleaming with energy. Select posters of beaming parents and children above messages of encouragement smiled down on them, the décor sparse but warming.

  There were four children—three little girls and a small boy—playing in the center of th
e floor. The space around them was strewn with plastic blocks and Matchbox cars. A teenage girl sat watching from one of two wooden benches, her gaze moving back and forth between the noise of their childish banter and the paperback book that rested open in her lap.

  The young woman glanced in the direction of the door that had closed loudly behind Luke. She met his curious stare with one of her own, her mouth slowly lifting into a friendly smile. Luke smiled back, lifting his hand in a slight wave. Before he could ask for assistance, the little boy let out a loud scream, calling out to everyone that could hear that there was a strange man in the lobby.

  Chapter 2

  “Mizz Joanne! Mizz Joanne! Some man out here! Come quick, Mizz Joanne!”

  Joanne Lake shook her head from side to side as she heard her name being called again and again, Mrs. Stanton’s baby boy screaming at the top of his lungs. No matter how often they told that child to use his inside voice when he was inside, little Bryson preferred saying everything loudly, and he always had much to say.

  Before she could lift herself from her seat, the boy came storming through the office doors. He barely missed slamming his face into the corner of the desk as he came to an abrupt halt. Joanne winced as he narrowly avoided what could have been a very nasty accident.

  “Some man out here, Mizz Joanne. We don’t know him. He’s strange,” Bryson Stanton sputtered, words spilling out faster than he could catch them.

  Joanne smiled, shaking her head as she admonished him. “Bryson, stop yelling. And what did I tell you about running when you’re inside the building here? You could have hit your head and taken an eye out!”

  “But there’s a man—”

  “I heard you, and I’m coming,” she said as the little boy clasped her fingers in the palm of his small hand and tugged anxiously, trying to pull her to her feet.

  “You got to come now, Mizz Joanne! Quick! He’s a stranger! Stranger danger!” Bryson exclaimed loudly, his outstretched arms waving excitedly to emphasize the urgency.

  Moving from the space of the small office to the outside reception area, Joanne chuckled softly at the child’s exuberance, sensing that things weren’t nearly as pressing as he’d proclaimed.

  And then she saw him, 286 pounds of pure delectable dark chocolate standing six feet tall in navy slacks, a white polo shirt and leather slip-ons. Joanne’s eyes widened with curiosity and obvious interest as her gaze raced from the top of his neatly cropped haircut down to the tips of his very expensive shoes.

  The handsome man was standing in conversation with Bryson’s older sister, Brenda, the sixteen-year-old leering at the stranger as if he were a bowl of ice cream and she were a spoon. As Joanne eyed them, she was only slightly taken aback by the girl’s brazen behavior. Brenda looked as if she were just a hair away from throwing herself into the man’s lap. Joanne and Brenda had had more than their fair share of conversations about the appropriate way for a young woman to behave, and Brenda was clearly intent on doing the opposite of what she had been shown.

  Shaking her head, Joanne cleared her throat, interrupting whatever conversation Miss Brenda imagined herself having with a man as fine as that one. And the dark stranger was surely one fine man.

  “Brenda, would you take the kids back to the recreation room, please. I’ll handle this,” Joanne said firmly.

  “But, Miss Joanne, me and him was just—”

  The stern look Joanne gave the girl cut her words off before she could think to finish her sentence. Brenda rolled her eyes skyward, sucking her teeth in annoyance. Snatching her book from where it rested on the bench, she tossed Luke one last smile. As she turned, gesturing to the little ones who stood watching, she gave Joanne one last glare. Joanne raised her eyebrows in response.

  When Brenda had herded the kids toward the space behind her, Joanne turned her attention to the dark stranger who was staring at her with a wide smile plastered on his chiseled face. “I’m sorry, sir, but unless you’re a resident, the center is actually closed for the evening. Is there something I can do for you?”

  Luke nodded slowly, suddenly at a loss for words. He hadn’t been expecting to see such an exquisite woman come into the room. The stunning female was absolutely beautiful. Her warm smile was engaging, brightening her face with energy. She was a full-figured beauty with a deep copper complexion, a closely cropped hairstyle, and the most luscious, ready-to-be-kissed pout of any woman Luke had ever seen. The look she gave him sparked a wave of emotion that had his cheeks burning with warmth at the perverse thoughts that suddenly coursed through his mind.

  Joanne repeated herself. “Excuse me, but I asked if there was something I can help you with?” she queried, a look of rising concern filling her dark brown eyes. “Sir, are you all right?”

  Luke shook his head quickly from side to side. “Excuse me. I’m sorry. My name is Luke, Luke Stallion, and I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions. My company is acquiring some of the property in this area as part of the city’s rejuvenation project, and I’m researching how we can best benefit the neighborhood.” Luke finally extended a hand to shake hers. “One of your neighbors thought you might be able to help me.” He flashed her a dimpled smile.

  Joanne’s gaze moved from the man’s face down to his outstretched palm as her own hand was suddenly lost beneath the fingertips that clasped hers tightly. Her gaze moved back to his face, her breath suddenly caught in her chest as the heat of his touch surprised her. She pulled her hand from his, clasping it against her abdomen, as she tried to ignore a distinct rise of discomfort.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stallion. My name is Joanne Lake. I’m just one of the volunteers here. You probably want to talk to the center’s director. His name is Daniel Manchuck, and he’ll be back on Monday. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to answer any questions you may have.”

  “I appreciate that, but I’d also like to know what you think, as well, Ms. Lake. I’m hoping to reach out to everyone in the neighborhood for their input.”

  Joanne raised a curious eyebrow. “That’s interesting, Mr. Stallion. Most corporations couldn’t care less what a community thinks about their business decisions. Why do you?” Joanne shifted her weight onto one full hip, her arms crossing over an ample chest.

  “I beg to differ, Ms. Lake. I’d argue that most corporations care very much. Ultimately, unhappy customers could negatively impact a company’s bottom line, and none of us wants to see that happen.”

  “Heaven forbid your company’s bottom line isn’t favorable,” Joanne said, a hint of cynicism rising in her voice.

  A slow smile pulled at Luke’s full lips. “Most companies just want to know that their efforts are received favorably. Ultimately, Stallion Enterprises wants to know that what we do benefits everyone in the long run.”

  “I’m sure,” Joanne said, her tone everything but convinced.

  Luke’s eyes roamed around the room, taking in the view of the space that surrounded him. “This is some facility you have here,” he said, changing the direction of their conversation. “I’m impressed.”

  Joanne eyed him warily before responding, her eyes following where his eyes led. “We’re very proud of the center. Everyone involved here is totally dedicated to making things better for the families that utilize our services.”

  Luke nodded. “I know you’re closed, but would you consider giving me a quick tour?” he asked sweetly.

  Joanne paused for a brief moment. Had it been anyone else, she would have politely refused, but there was something about the man that made her suddenly respond with a resounding yes. “I’d love to, Mr. Stallion.”

  Luke grinned widely, his dimples blossoming full in his cheeks. “Please, call me Luke. My father was Mr. Stallion.”

  The beautiful woman grinned back, her head bowing slightly in acknowledgment. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Luke. Call me Joanne.”

  For exactly two hours, thirty-seven minutes and twelve seconds Joanne had guided Luke Stallion from one
end of the community center to the other. They’d toured the recreation room where kids were doing their homework and playing board games, had strolled easily through the kitchen as the last free meal was being served and had even walked through the men’s housing unit, where the lucky few were preparing themselves to bed down on a cot for the night.

  Luke had asked question after question about the center’s policies and procedures, picking Joanne’s brains for all the information he could about them and the neighborhood. The woman had been impressed when he’d stopped to offer one of the young men help with his calculus homework. Afterward, the two guys had joined in a quick pickup game on the basketball court. She’d been awed speechless when Luke had taken off his shirt, flexing his muscles as he’d dropped ball after ball into the hoop.

  His nicely toned physique had been startling. His sturdy neck melded down to broad, sculptured shoulders, beefy biceps and bulging forearms. His pecs were so defined that they cast a shadow on his perfectly defined abdomen. The V shape of his torso ended at the waistband of his slacks.

  His thighs bulged as if barely contained. His pants creased from the hips to a prominent bulge in the front. Joanne had to fight not to stare, wondering what might be hidden beneath the covering of his slacks.

  The man’s rock-hard build had only been outdone by his engaging eyes and the generous smile that had commanded her full attention. The prominent businessman had made quite an impression on the many residents availing themselves of the center’s services. The impact he’d had on Joanne had been just as engaging.

  Joanne heaved a deep sigh as she closed her apartment door behind her, then tossed her purse and keys onto the glass tabletop in the foyer of her home. Silence greeted her, the quiet in her house kissing her hello. I really should get myself a pet, she thought, more aware than ever before that there was no companion, male or otherwise, to welcome her home.

 

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