by Jillian Neal
What She Wants Tonight
A Holder County Novel
Jillian Neal
Photography by
Regina Wamba
Edited by
Happily Editing Anns
Copyright © 2020 by Jillian Neal
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 978-1-940174-60-0
To all the girls who long to be seen for who they are, instead of being viewed through the lens of expectation that tries to turn them into the person everyone else wants them to be
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
About the Author
Also by Jillian Neal
Chapter One
An ice pick of dread plunged deep into Jack Denton’s mind when he saw the area code of the incoming call. The fogged glass door to his office in the Holder County Courthouse announced that he was the man. The fact that he was the youngest district attorney of one of the wealthiest counties in the state of Oklahoma meant absolutely nothing to his parents. Public service was not something they would ever value.
His mother knew he wasn’t likely to answer a call from her direct line, so now she was being sneaky. Rolling his eyes at her scheming, he went on with his sentence. “Hello, Mother.”
She puffed out a quick breath of what was likely surprise that he knew precisely who was phoning him that afternoon. “Jackson,” she drawled in her thick Kentucky accent. “Your secretary said you weren’t taking any calls this afternoon. He wouldn’t listen when I tried to explain whom I was and that you were to answer calls from me.”
Jack ground his teeth. “Mitch is a legal assistant who works for all of the county prosecutors. He is not my secretary.”
“What time will you be arriving this weekend?” In classic Beverly Denton style, she ignored anything that she did not want to be true.
Jack went silent for a sluggish heartbeat. He rubbed his head. Perhaps that might help the dread not reach vital portions of his brain. “Why are you under the impression that I’ll be attending Tiffany’s wedding?” He’d done his best to scrub all notes of Kentucky from his voice, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be just as direct as his mother. That particular skill was how he got answers in the courtroom.
“The Fitzgeralds have been dear friends of our family for generations. You know this. I’ll have Beckett pick you up Saturday morning early. What’s the closest air field to that little town you insist on living in? You’ll need a date. I’ll need to know her initials for the napkins today. We’re already putting Elise in a bind with only a week until the wedding.”
Jack stared at the leather inlaid desk before him and regretted purchasing the antique behemoth just to prove something to his father. The leather might prevent him from being able to beat his head against it hard enough to achieve unconsciousness. Blacking out from this particular conversation was the only way he was going to be able to endure it. His mother never listened to any voice other than her own anyway, so consciousness wasn’t a requirement on his part. “I highly doubt Elise Fitzgerald is waiting on pins and needles for the initials of my plus one, Mother.”
“I’ve taken the liberty to have the embroidery done for Alexandra Tempton since I assumed you don’t actually have a plus one. You and Alex always seemed like a good pairing.”
A geyser of bile erupted from Jack’s gut to his throat. Alex Tempton was a vile human being who frequently ordered her parents’ housekeeping staff to clean up after her toy poodles after she allowed the dogs to grind their shit into the rugs. If what his brother said was true, she’d also ordered her father to buy and then shut down a local dress shop because they hadn’t had her size in stock on a dress she found appealing.
“I have a plus one.” The lie, born of sheer desperation and repulse, spilled rapidly from his lips.
“Oh, really?” His mother sounded irritated, which was the way he preferred her to be. “Anyone we know?”
“God, no.”
“Then what initials shall I have Elise put on the napkins and gifts?”
Jack hated this. He hated that every conversation with his parents somehow evolved into a script of lies coming from a place inside himself he didn’t recognize. Why did he still care what they thought of him? The singular truth of it all was that he hated them, hated all that they stood for, and hated the way they existed in the world, and yet, for some unfathomable reason, he wanted to be the one that saved them from themselves.
At that moment, the universe tossed him a lifeline by way of a quick knock on his door—a knock audible enough that his mother heard it as well. “I have to take this. I’ll get back to you.” He ended the call, set the phone on the desk, and let his head fall into his hands. “Come in,” he called loud enough for whomever needed to hear him, since he’d effectively created a mouth-muffler with his hands.
The quick click of his savior’s heels announced Meridian Holder’s entrance. He lifted his head and, for what had to be the hundredth time in the last four years, tried to determine if she was an angel of heaven or of hell.
Reading people was his superpower. It made him a damn good attorney. Discovering the deepest, darkest secrets people tried to keep hidden served him very well in the courtroom and in the bedroom.
And yet, he’d met his enigma in his assistant district attorney. He was never able to tell what Meridian was thinking, what drove her, what she really wanted out of life. Part hometown cowgirl, part cutthroat attorney. Part angel, part demon. Mercurial on the best of days and never to be crossed without paying a heavy penalty.
Her long auburn hair was done up in one of those twists that served to have a similar effect on his gut. His eyes trailed down the long feminine column of her neck. His throat went dry, but in an effort to never be like his own father, he studiously skipped over the small swells of her breasts, accentuated perfectly in the silk button-down shirt she was wearing. Instead his eyes landed on the brown leather skirt that skimmed an inch or two above her knees.
Right after he’d been elected as DA, he’d gone in her office to get some paperwork and had glim
psed a few stunningly sinful boudoir photos that were only slightly covered by some files. He certainly wasn’t intended to see them. He imagined they were for some lucky bastard deserving of a hellcat like Meridian. Or perhaps for herself, but they certainly were not for him. However, those photos had driven him to distraction. He’d burn for the things he’d imagined based on those very photos. If his hand could talk, her father would likely have shot him twice, once to get the job done and once for good measure.
It took an inappropriate amount of time for his eyes to travel back to hers. Not that they weren’t equally as resplendent as the rest of her. He came from a long line of Kentucky whiskey barons, and Meridian Holder’s eyes were the precise shade of a priceless reserve, single-barrel, rare and untouched. The woman herself was every bit as off-limits and every bit as intoxicating.
Concern furrowed her brow. “Bad day, I take it?”
“Day. Life. Whatever. Did you need me?” He hated himself even more for wishing she did, but Meridian was not the kind of woman who needed anything from anyone. She was every bit as lethal as she was beautiful. He was thankful they were always on the same team for the most part.
“What happened? Is this about the eminent domain case on Hackberry because I can talk to the Moores if you need me to.”
“No, but thank you for the offer. I think once they saw the check they were willing to forfeit the minimal distance needed for the new bridge.”
Meridian helped herself to one of the chairs in front of his desk. Of course she did. The woman saw no need to ask permission for most anything. If she wanted it, she went out and got it. From where Jack was sitting, there was nothing sexier than that. “It’s my”—he gestured to his phone—“family issues. I’m supposed to go back home for a family friend’s wedding. I’m not particularly looking forward to it.”
“Why not?”
Jack had graduated top of his class at Duke. He’d worked for his father for eighteen months, following in the family name and business like he’d been bred to do, until he’d discovered far more than he could ever forgive. He was one hell of a lawyer, and he sure as fuck knew when he was being put on the stand, but for some reason the desire to verbalize a small portion of the insanity that was his family to a sympathetic ear was too tempting to be denied. “I hate my family, hate everything they stand for, and among a lengthy list of other reasons why I don’t want to attend this blessed event, the bride is my former fiancée.”
Meridian’s lush lips puckered into a low whistle. “Damn.”
“More like damned.” He stupidly, recklessly felt the need to go on, to reassure the woman seated across from him who likely required no reassurances at all. “I was never in love with her. I don’t even like her. We were betrothed for all intents and purposes. Her father is a business associate of my dad’s.”
“If you don’t want to go, why are you going?” said the woman who would never even be able to fathom what went into his role in his family.
“I haven’t seen my brothers in over a year. Plus, there are things there I…need to check on. There are people who count on me.”
Meridian’s eyes narrowed a half notch. “So, you need a date.”
Jack prided himself on never being surprised. The speed at which she’d put the few pieces of the puzzle together irritated him. God, did he sound as desperate as he felt? “What makes you think that?”
She gave him a quiet chuckle, one that caused the twist in his stomach to tighten with approval. “No one wants to go to the wedding of their former fiancée alone, and you are married to your desk which is tough to travel with and makes an even worse dance partner.”
“Funny. So, in answer to your original question, yes, I’m having a bad day. What did you need?”
He immediately recognized the shrewdness that Meridian was known for as she cocked her head delicately to the side. “I’ll make you a deal.”
Every single thing about this woman was dangerous. Her family owned the largest cattle ranch in all of Oklahoma and had not only founded the county of which he’d been elected DA, but they also made certain every citizen of the county was cared for to the best of their ability. Jack had the utmost of respect for all members of the extensive family, Meridian included, but crossing the Holders would result in him being removed from office and from town, no questions asked.
Making a deal of any kind could result in disastrous consequences. Not certain if he was suicidal or just masochistic all of a sudden, his eyebrows lifted. “What kind of deal?” He told himself he was only entertaining her, making certain that she knew she was indispensable to both him and the county, which she was. Her work was second only to his.
An indescribably sexy smirk formed on her features. “I,” she stated pointedly, “will happily attend this lovely family wedding with you, but in return…”
Jack knew there would be a but. The woman was never afraid to ask for what she wanted. That was yet another thing Jack found incredibly sexy. “What?” he demanded. Not that he had any intention of taking her up on her offer. It would be akin to asking her to climb Mt. Everest in those six-inch heels of hers.
“I get to represent my family in the Marsden mustang case. Me and only me.”
Chapter Two
Jack leveled her with a look that he was certain he’d shown her before. She always refused to save herself. Come hell or high water, she’d been determined to run against him for DA two years ago and had lost miserably. Not that she didn’t deserve his position, not that she was even the inferior lawyer, maybe, but the citizens of Holder County were often concerned that the Holder family shouldn’t own too much land or hold too many county seats. They seemed to believe the adage that absolute power corrupted absolutely. It wasn’t something Jack disagreed with. After all, he had lived the absolute corruption of owning the world.
“No,” he stated. “It’s been fine for you to represent individual members of your family when the need arose, but this is a case against Holder Land and Cattle, the company which you work for and profit from. It’s a frivolous lawsuit, and you’d only hang it up in court, costing the county more money. It’s open and shut. Your family is obviously taking outstanding care of the mustangs for the state despite his ridiculous claims. Marsden is the very reason the state has laws about frivolous lawsuits. The case isn’t going to go anywhere. I need you on cases that we have an obligation to devote our time and efforts to.”
“That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” She spun on those fuck-me heels and sashayed toward his office door. Her delectable ass, plump and ripe, was framed in that skirt like a priceless piece of artwork. It made promises he sure as hell wished she’d keep.
And damn he was weak. And stuck. And needy. And…desperate. “I can’t ask you to do that. My family is impossible. They’re genuinely awful people. I can’t ask you to run that gauntlet. I won’t let you.”
She spun back around with a look of bemusement painted across her face. “Are you seriously suggesting that I might not be tough enough to handle your blue-blood family out in Whiskeyville, Kentucky, District Attorney Denton? I do know a thing or two about large families with money.”
She didn’t know. She had no fucking clue. Her family was good, and kind, and cared about other people and their plight. Besides, the Holder money was pennies compared to the Denton dynasty. But she’d challenged him and also left him no other option but to agree with her. He’d never call her weak, but she had no idea what she was volunteering to do.
His eyes fell to his desk for what she’d just trapped him into. “I would never suggest that you’re weak, Meridian. I imagine there isn’t much you can’t handle.” Shame crawled up his spine. He didn’t want her to have to endure the Dentons, but if she was going to keep insisting, he also knew he’d eventually give in. God, he really was an asshole just like his old man.
“Good. I’m glad we’ve firmly established that fact. I’ll be just fine. I’ll even do some reading on the Denton Distilleries legacy just to make
certain I’m prepared.”
“I really wish you wouldn’t.”
“I’ll take the file on Marsden’s claim now.”
No. He would not let her fall on a sword for him. He was better than that. She wasn’t going to be deterred. She never was. So, perhaps he could scare her off. “What’s your middle name?”
“Why do you need my middle name?”
“The napkins and glassware for the wedding will be engraved with everyone’s monograms, of course. Oh, and I’m sure my mother will have you sets of towels and robes made prior to our arrival.” There. Take that, Miss Holder. That was a mere microcosm of just how out of touch with reality his family was.
Her mouth fell open, but she shut it back quickly though she couldn’t quite hide the shock from her eyes. “Oh, well, okay then. Skye is my middle name. So, MSH.”
“MHS actually,” he corrected. “Your last name is by far the most important, and what better way to display that than with monograms on every flat surface.” He narrowed his eyes.
“Right. I guess I’ve never really had anything monogrammed. Does that mean I’m supposed to bring the towels and robe back with me?”
