by Cathryn Fox
“He’s gone crazy,” I whisper.
Tamara looks at me and blinks. “You know this guy?”
I nod. “I know him.”
“You’d better get him off the street, then, before he gets arrested for loitering.”
“I don’t think they would, unless we called them,” I say, making no move to let him in. “I think we’ll let him sweat it out a bit longer.”
Tamara eyes me. “What did he do to you anyway?”
“Long story.”
Tate walks up to the door and puts his hand on the glass. I stare at him, my heart in my throat. All the love I feel for him wells up inside me when I see the pain in his blue eyes. Tate is hurting as much as I am.
I back away, and Tamara says, “He looks like he’s in agony.”
“Let him in.”
Tamara rushes to the door and opens it. Tate walks in, his presence overwhelming the place, overwhelming me.
He pushes his hoodie off, and his donkey ears flop onto his back. “I’m an ass,” he says.
“Yeah, you are.” I fold my arms and perch on Tamara’s desk.
As tension arcs between Tate and me, Tamara grabs her purse. “I’m heading out early,” she says and disappears out the door.
Tate turns and sets the bolt, locking us in. Then his eyes meet mine and my stupid heart wobbles.
“A big fucking ass,” he says.
“Not disagreeing.”
He exhales slowly as he looks at the floor, and then his eyes slowly lift to mine. “I’ve never believed in love at first sight,” he says. I open my mouth, but he holds his hand up to stop me. “Can I please just get this all out? I’ve been practicing, and I don’t want to screw this up like I did last time.”
I hide my smile and nod.
“I think I fell for you when Granddad showed me that Polaroid. Your sweet smile, the light in your eyes. I don’t know. All I know is I was drawn to you. Then when I met you, put my hands on your body, well, let’s just say that was a total mind fuck. I thought you were a gold digger, Granddad sort of led me to believe that, and I’ve seen so much of it in my life.” A pause and then he confessed, “It’s hard for me to trust anyone, Summer.”
“I know.”
He taps his head and says, “Just so you know, that old man is on the ball, as sharp as ever.”
“I know that, too,” I say quietly.
“He misses you.”
“I miss him.”
“Well, anyway. The plan was for me to seduce you. It was messed up from the start, I know. But I thought if you went for me, I could report back to Granddad that you didn’t love him and were just using him for his money. But when you opened yourself to me, Summer, so honest and giving, I lost it. I truly lost it. I never meant to cross the line, but after we made love the first time, there was no turning back for me.” He takes a small step toward me, gauging me. I don’t move so he comes a bit closer.
“There was a part of me that couldn’t believe you were a con. After a while, I thought maybe I didn’t want to believe it because I wanted you for myself. But that last night in front of my fire, when you put your body and trust in my hands, opened yourself to me completely, I finally had to admit to myself that I was head over heels in love.”
A little gasp pushes from my lungs, and he takes a measured step closer, but I hold my hand up and he stops. “You hurt me, Tate. You made me feel small, used, all alone in the world. Like I did when I was a girl.”
“I’m sorry, Summer. I never in a million years wanted to make you feel that way. If you’ll let me I’ll spend the rest of my life worshipping you.”
I look down, take my time to sort through the matter, the extent Tate has gone through to get my attention so he could apologize. “I do like the way you worship me.”
As if those words were all the encouragement he needed, he steps up to me, opens my legs to stand between them. I glance up at him, take in the scruff on his cheeks. When was the last time he shaved?
“I’m miserable without you, Summer. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I can’t work. All I can do is walk through the streets like this, so I can let all of Manhattan know I’m the biggest ass in the world. Please forgive me.”
“You’re not like those boys from my childhood, Tate. You’re admirable, kind, sweet and protective. I apologize for saying you were no better than them, because you are. Your grandfather set you up, and I plan to have words with him about that. But you were doing what you thought you had to do to protect your family. James went about this matchmaking the wrong way, and you went about everything the wrong way with me—well, maybe not everything—but I understand why you did what you did.”
“I’m in love with you, Summer. Lost in you.”
My heart soars, and my throat grows so tight it’s hard to speak. “I’m in love with you, too, Tate.”
He exhales heavily and I catch mint and coffee on his breath as he cups my face and presses a hungry, needy kiss to my mouth. “Can we start over?”
I nod, and grab a tissue to dab at my eyes.
He holds his hand out. “I’m Tate Carson, my granddad is a sly son of a bitch matchmaker, and he set me up with the most beautiful woman in the world, a woman perfect in every way. A woman I plan to worship from the top of her head to the tips of her toes every single day if she’ll let me.”
I sniff. “I’m Summer Love. I’m James Carson’s doctor, and that sly old matchmaker is going to get an earful from me, and then a big thank-you.”
Tate wraps his arms around me, lifts me clear off the desk and spins me. His lips find mine and he kisses me long and hard, and with such passion and love my heart fills with a kind of joy I’ve never felt before. Dad would have liked this one. I know he’s up there smiling down at us now. Tears slide down my cheek, and when Tate sets me down, I’m light-headed, but I think it’s more from the barrage of emotions swirling around my heart.
“Just so you know, Granddad wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to sign over half of his Manhattan estate to you.”
I put my hand on his chest. “No, Tate. I can make it on my own in this world. I don’t want his money or yours.”
“I know that and that is just one of the many things I love about you. But in this case, you have no say. He’s doing it as a wedding gift.”
I crinkle my nose. “A wedding gift?”
Tate drops to one knee, pulls out a velvet box and opens it to showcases the biggest diamond ring I’ve ever seen. “I haven’t known you for very long, Summer, yet I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. I love your kindness, your generosity, your humility and compassion. I love everything about you.” He grins up at me. “And I love all those things about you more when you’re naked for me.” That pulls a chuckle from me. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”
As I glance at Tate, one knee on the floor, dressed in that silly costume as he proposes to me, I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. “No,” I say, and Tate falters, the sadness in his eyes like a knife to my heart.
“Summer?”
“I just mean no, not like this. I can’t tell our children that you proposed to me in a donkey costume, now can I?”
He lets loose a relieved laugh. “So the answer is yes.”
“Yes, Tate. Yes, a million times over.”
He slides the ring onto my finger. “And yeah, you can tell this story to the kids, if it’ll keep them from making an ass of themselves when they grow up.”
“I like your ass.” I reach around him and grab a handful of donkey tail.
He touches my chin, his face serious. “Tomorrow night, we’ll get dressed up, and I’ll take you somewhere nice to celebrate.”
“Speaking of clothes, let’s get you out of this costume and into something else.”
“Shit, I didn’t bring clothes.”
“That’s okay,” I say, grabbing a fistful of his costume and dragging him into the examination room. I shut the door, locking the world out and us in. “Because right now, the only thing I want you to get into...is me.”
The blue in his eyes deepens, and his nostrils flare.
“Please...” I murmur quietly, as I settle myself on the examination table.
And just like that, Tate Carson, my sexy fiancé, has once again been taken to his knees.
* * *
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On Her Terms
coming in June 2019
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Mr. One-Night Stand
by Rachael Stewart
CHAPTER ONE
PATIENCE—HE WASN’T known for it. Why should he be when he’d worked his entire life to ensure he got everything he wanted, when he wanted it?
Flicking his wrist, he checked the time. Eight twenty-five.
Where the hell were they?
If being late was a last-ditch attempt at angling for more money, then Tony Andrews was an even bigger fool than Marcus had had him pegged for.
He waved away the approaching waitress who was eyeing his empty glass. He’d already indulged in a whisky and filled his one-drink-while-on-business quota. He wasn’t fool enough to indulge in more. Although the girl’s perfect parting pout made clear that it wasn’t just a drink being offered.
Not tonight. He smiled back.
He might be considered an arrogant ass by many, but no one could accuse him of lacking in manners. Even his questionable childhood hadn’t beaten those out of him—much as his father might have tried.
It was hardly her fault he wasn’t up for it. She had appeal aplenty, if surgically enhanced assets and peroxide hair were your thing.
But tonight was about work.
And work was work.
Sex was sex.
Never should the two be mixed. Not if you wanted to stay focused and come out on top.
He watched as she weaved her way back through the intimate arrangement of tables, breaking his gaze to scan again the people occupying the circular floor space of the exclusive rooftop venue. Andrews had chosen it for convenience, it being located only two blocks down from his London HQ.
Very convenient for Andrews—not so sodding convenient for him. He rolled his shoulders and rechecked his watch.
What the hell was he doing?
He should’ve left ten minutes after the hour, not sat there like some obedient monkey.
But then, he wasn’t there simply to catch up with the man he was in the process of buying out. He was there to be introduced to Andrews’ business partner—soon-to-be his partner—Jennifer Hayes, before they signed on the dotted line.
Not that the introduction would make any difference; the deal was as good as done. But professional courtesy made him stay. That and the fact he was curious to meet her—the exec who’d turned a business into the largest successful start-up the industry had seen in years.
He was convinced Andrews hadn’t been responsible for it. It was a wonder the man could still see straight, with his mounting gambling debts and outside work attentions. And then there was the drink problem. No one had confirmed it, but Marcus was sure he had one. He knew the signs well enough, thanks to dear old Dad.
So, yes, he doubted Andrews had done a full day’s work in years—and that meant one thing: Miss Hayes was the one carrying the company; she was the one he was effectively buying into.
He’d read her profile, noticeably devoid of any pictures, and figured her to be late thirties, early forties. A woman with shrewd business acumen, a bearing that bordered on cold, and a definite force in the boardroom—all of which he’d respect her for. So long as they were on the same page.
It intrigued him that he hadn’t come across any pictures. Not even a professionally enhanced shot used to support all those public accolades. Maybe she didn’t go in for that kind of vanity. Or maybe Andrews did all that for her. He was certainly everywhere. Even the Forbes article he’d thrust into his hands at a charity auction last month, when he’d put forward his proposition, had highlighted the success of the business but featured Andrews alone, his greased back hair and cocky grin filling half the page.
The memory of that expression goaded Marcus further now as he waited and waited, fingers drumming on the tabletop, his patience hitting breaking point.
Seriously—enough was enough. The papers would be taken care of in less than twenty-four hours regardless. He might as well meet her then.
Tugging at the cuffs of his shirt, he made to stand up just as the cables of the glass elevator started to shift. New arrivals?
He settled back and waited for them to come into view.
> It wasn’t Andrews. That was immediately obvious. The small, balding lift attendant was being dwarfed by a statuesque redhead who made even the impressive lift look small. He wasn’t the only one noticing either. Her hair was pulling every eye in the room. Its cascading waves ran down her back, glinting in the ambient light, impossible to ignore.
Its dramatic colour was a striking contrast to the black dress that clung to her curves before halting modestly at the knee. His gaze dropped lower still, to her exposed calves, to the subtle shimmer that teased with the possibility of stockings. And then came her shoes, her severe black stilettos...
Heat assaulted his groin.
Fuck me.
He wasn’t going anywhere. Not just yet. Andrews could have the extra time for free...
* * *
Jennifer glanced at her watch and cursed under her breath. Eight-thirty. She was late. She hated being late.
But then, what did Tony expect, calling her at the eleventh hour and asking that she meet him for drinks? The blasted guy should know better than most what kind of workload she had.
Hell, who was she kidding? He couldn’t give a shit what her to-do list looked like. Truth was, he was the cause of most of it. His increasing absence these last couple of weeks was pushing her to the brink and sending her stress levels through the roof. And yet here it came, that little voice in her head...
He has so much going on...he needs you...his family needs you...
But, hell, her family needed her too—her mother and her sister. Not just financially, but physically, and he was stretching her so thin.
But you owe him. He doesn’t owe you. There’s the difference.
She let go of a slow breath, easing the tension out with it, and gave the lift attendant a polite smile of gratitude. He returned it to her chest and she sighed anew. Seriously?
Stepping past him, she adjusted the deep V in her wrap-around dress and cast her eyes over the softly lit room. Where are you, Tony?
