Love Me

by Cheryl Holt

  She leaned down so they were nose to nose. “What if you’re wrong?”

  “I’m not.”

  He didn’t like that he was sitting and she was standing. It made her seem taller, tougher, in the right. He pushed himself to his feet, and the momentum carried him into her so that, suddenly, his body was pressed to hers.

  She didn’t give any ground, didn’t step away. The sparks they constantly generated ignited with a vengeance. His desire for her was alive and well; he couldn’t deny it.

  He wanted her. He’d always wanted her. He’d go to his grave wanting her.

  She grinned up at him. “Can you feel that, Monroe?”

  “Yes, I feel it.”

  “You’re so hot for me, you’re about to burst into flames.”

  “So what? I’m hot for you. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  She threw up her hands in frustration. “It means everything, you dolt. What if we could sleep together every night? What if you could wake up next to me every morning? For the rest of your life, Monroe. For the rest of your life!”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, rose up on tiptoe, her lips an inch from his own.

  “Kiss me,” she said. “You know you want to. Don’t be such a butthead. Just do it and get it over with.”

  He hovered there, perched on a precipice of despair. He was anxious to proceed, but absolutely terrified too.

  What if he relented? What if he latched on, only to learn that she wasn’t serious, that she had no intention of following through?

  “Love me, Monroe,” she murmured. “Love me. Have me. Keep me.”

  “I can’t decide what’s best,” he groaned.

  “I’m best. I’m exactly what you need. Don’t fight it. Give up. Give in.”

  She grabbed his ass and pulled him to her. She was warm and soft, and she smelled so good. He couldn’t think of a reason not to behave as she was demanding.

  He lifted her and shoved her against the wall, his mouth crushed to hers in a sizzling kiss that promised more than he could offer, that promised more than he had.

  A battle raged inside him. He craved what she was dangling in front of him, but he was so obstinate, the inflexible voice in his mind telling him he couldn’t have it.

  Gradually, the embrace gentled. He eased away, and she slid to the floor. A thousand comments floated between them, but he couldn’t verbalize any of them. He was afraid he’d say the wrong thing, that he’d do the wrong thing.

  She smiled a smile as old as Eve’s. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  He snorted out a laugh. “No, it wasn’t so bad.”

  She looked at him, her affection blatant and welcome.

  “Love me, Matt,” she said again.

  “I want to,” he finally, reluctantly confessed.

  “Have a little faith.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Let me prove to you that it will be all right. Trust me. Once in your life, just trust.”

  She reached in the pocket of her shorts and withdrew a piece of paper. She held it out.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Credit card receipt.”

  “For what?”

  “Two plane tickets to Vegas. You and me. Saturday.”

  “We’d fly to Vegas? Why?”

  “You told me once that I should avoid all the wedding hassle by eloping. It’s a great idea.”

  His heart didn’t just flip-flop; it fell to his shoes.

  “You want to get married? To me?”

  “Yes. Saturday. All you have to do is say yes. Ken and Jeremy would like to come with us, but it’s up to you. We could simply throw a big party when we get back.”

  He started to shake so hard that he thought his knees might give out. He lurched over to the chair by the window and dropped onto the soft cushion.

  “Pardon me for pointing this out,” he said, “but a few weeks ago, you were engaged to someone else.”

  “A major mistake; I admit it.”

  “And now, with a month or so gone by, you’re ready to marry me? I’m a bit skeptical.”

  “So what? You’re always skeptical.”

  “You can just flit from him to me? Why would you?”

  “Don’t you know, you goof?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “You make me happy, Monroe. When I’m around you, I feel so alive. When I’m around you, I know I’ll never be alone again.”

  She walked over to him, her hands extended. She linked their fingers and squeezed tight.

  “You and me, Monroe. We’re a unit. A dynamic duo. A team.”

  “A team?” he scoffed.

  “You might as well agree, because I won’t quit harping until you tell me what I want to hear.”

  A knock sounded on the door, and Ken flung it open. Jeremy was with him.

  “I decided I’d better check on you,” Ken explained. “I had to be sure you haven’t killed anybody.”

  “I haven’t killed her,” Matt said. “Yet.”

  “I wasn’t talking about you,” Ken responded. “You’re a stubborn jackass, and I’ve been worried about her and what she might do when she’s had enough of you.” He grinned at Brittney. “Have you worn him down?”

  “I’m still trying. He doesn’t think I’m much of a catch.”

  “I never said that!” Matt complained, but no one listened.

  Ken glared at him. “What is your problem, man? She’s rich and beautiful and generous, and she’ll take care of you for the rest of your damn life. Cram your male ego in your pocket and let her.”

  “I just…just…”

  Matt couldn’t find words to describe the feelings roiling him. He was so unworthy of her. Injured. Broke. Never able to support her as she deserved to be supported.

  He had nothing to offer her, yet she was utterly certain that she wanted him anyway.

  Jeremy pushed past Ken.

  “Dad”—it was the first time he’d ever used the term with Matt—“she already moved her stuff into your bedroom.”

  “I know,” Matt said.

  “I won’t allow her to sleep in here with you unless you guys are married.”

  “Stop being such a wuss,” Ken scolded Matt.

  “Yeah, Monroe,” Brittney added, “stop being such a wuss.”

  She tugged him to his feet and turned them so they were facing the mirror. Ken and Jeremy stood behind them.

  “Look at us, Matt,” she murmured. “Look at us together. Look at our family. Imagine how it can always be.”

  He took a deep breath, held it, let it out. He felt as if he was falling and falling and falling, and he had no idea where he’d be when he landed.

  “You can’t ever leave,” he ultimately said to her. “Promise me. Swear it.”

  “I won’t ever leave. I swear.”

  “And you have to love me. You have to love me forever. Swear that too.”

  “That’s easy. I’ll love you forever—till my dying day.”

  He gazed at her, at Ken, at Jeremy. Finally, he ignored his torment, his doubt. He shrugged.

  “Why not? I haven’t been to Vegas in years.”

  They all paused, then Brittney tentatively ventured, “Should I take that as a yes?”

  Matt nodded. “Take it as a yes. Vegas. Saturday. You and me and the cheesiest wedding chapel we can find.”

  Brittney nodded too. “The absolute cheesiest. I guarantee it.”

  Jeremy frowned and peered up at Ken. “Does that mean they’re getting married?”

  “Yup,” Ken said, and he grumbled, “About damn time they came to their senses.”

  “Can we come to Las Vegas with you?” Jeremy asked.

  “You’d better,” Matt replied.

  Jeremy whooped with joy and rushed over to hug Matt. Matt hesitated, unsure of how to accept such an open display of affection.

  Brittney grabbed them both and showed them how it was done.

  THE END

  The Author
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  CHERYL HOLT is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of thirty novels. She has numerous national writing awards to her credit and is particularly proud to have been named “Best Storyteller of the Year” by the trade magazine, Romantic Times. She lives and writes in Hollywood, California, and loves to hear from fans.

  www.cherylholt.comcheryl@cherylholt.com

  BOOKS BY CHERYL HOLT

  LOVE ME

  KISS ME

  SEDUCE ME

  KNIGHT OF SEDUCTION

  NICHOLAS

  DREAMS OF DESIRE

  TASTE OF TEMPTATION

  PROMISE OF PLEASURE

  LOVE’S PROMISE

  LOVE’S PRICE

  SLEEPING WITH THE DEVIL

  DOUBLE FANTASY

  FORBIDDEN FANTASY

  SECRET FANTASY

  TOO WICKED TO WED

  TOO TEMPTING TO TOUCH

  TOO HOT TO HANDLE

  THE WEDDING NIGHT

  FURTHER THAN PASSION

  DEEPER THAN DESIRE

  MORE THAN SEDUCTION

  COMPLETE ABANDON

  ABSOLUTE PLEASURE

  TOTAL SURRENDER

  LOVE LESSONS

  MOUNTAIN DREAMS

  MY TRUE LOVE

  MY ONLY LOVE

  MEG’S SECRET ADMIRER

  WAY OF THE HEART

  Enjoy these other great e-books from Cheryl Holt. Now available for most e-readers…

  NICHOLAS

  “An exciting plot complicated by Emeline and Nicholas's roller-coaster relationship keeps the pages turning. A great weekend read.”

  Emily Thompson, Library Journal

  “It is always a wonderful feeling, like comfort food, to read a favorite author, and her storytelling here is just as wonderful as in her first book. I find this to be uncommon, but Ms. Holt is this type of author. I recommend any reader to search out her books and read them." Teagan Boyd, Book Wenches.com

  SEDUCE ME

  "Romantic Times hit the nail on the head when they dubbed Cheryl Holt the "Best Storyteller of the Year" and proof of that claim can easily be found in her charming new novella, SEDUCE ME." Teresa St. Mary, Novels Alive TV

  KNIGHT OF SEDUCTION

  "CHERYL HOLT delivers a fast paced and highly entertaining tale of a conquering knight, honed and hardened by a lifetime of battles and a spirited young woman who wants nothing more than a life of her own. KNIGHT OF SEDUCTION is a must read, with captivating characters who practically come alive from the page and pull you into their tale of sweet seduction, witty banter, and soul touching emotions."

  Teresa St. Mary, Novels Alive TV

  Did you enjoy Cheryl’s novel, LOVE ME? Then don’t miss the companion novels, SEDUCE ME and KISS ME. Read about Lucas and Dustin Merriweather. Find out how they met and fell in love with Faith and Amy.

  Both books available now at most on-line bookstores for most e-reader devices.

  SEDUCE ME

  by Cheryl Holt

  Enjoy this sample chapter!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lucas Merriweather marched up the steps to his attorney’s office. He’d only recently hired the woman, and he glanced around, trying to learn something of her character by assessing his surroundings.

  Ms. Catherine Stone, Attorney at Law, had located her business in an old house that was charming and picturesque. From the tidy yard and paint job, he predicted she would be pragmatic, sensible, and shrewd, qualities he would exploit to his benefit. He had no qualms about using her. She’d be well paid for her efforts.

  While he usually scheduled his appointments in the skyscrapers of downtown Denver, he’d agreed to make the one-hour drive to Boulder for what he intended to be a very private, very discreet conversation. His siblings, Dustin and Britney, wanted to splash the scandal across the newspapers, but Lucas was determined to avoid any publicity and to have the debacle resolved with a minimum of fuss.

  An acquaintance had recommended Ms. Stone, claiming she was tough as nails and could push through any bargain he sought. He’d spoken to her on the phone, but they hadn’t met, and he was still debating his decision to retain her.

  His powerful family had armies of attorneys, male attorneys, scattered over the globe. Their sole purpose was to protect Merriweather Industries. But with the emerging situation—as his mother liked to call it—Lucas felt a female lawyer would better suit him.

  Women were adept at exhibiting a soft, restrained façade, one that fooled adversaries into complacency, but beneath the surface, they could be more brutal than men. Their venom was unexpected, their targets caught off guard.

  For his current difficulties, he needed a person of skill and duplicity. Would Ms. Stone be the deceptive warrior he required?

  He opened the door and walked inside, and the place was quiet, as if it was deserted. There was no receptionist at the desk, and he was irked by the inefficiency. He was never late, and he insisted his associates be punctual, too. With his father having passed away the prior year, Lucas was in charge of the company and extremely busy, when he hated to be.

  He’d never envisioned himself as a business mogul, but as the oldest son, he’d suddenly found himself running things. It was a circumstance in which he had no interest and for which he’d refused to be groomed.

  He was much more comfortable swishing down the Colorado ski slopes or relaxing on his yacht in the Caribbean. Raised rich and entitled, he frittered away his money on every conceivable vice. Content to lounge and loaf, his indolent lifestyle fit his arrogant temperament. He liked to do what he wished, go where he chose, and behave as he pleased, and he’d always rankled at restrictions and constraints.

  But now, at age thirty, he’d been thrust into the role of tycoon, when he had very little aptitude for the venture. He chafed at the tedious nature of his duties.

  His forebears had built an empire based on minerals and mining, but in the twenty-first century, Lucas’s world was far removed from the processes that had created their initial fortune. Between his grandfather and father, and their perpetual bickering, the enterprises that had formed the bedrock of their wealth had been sold or shut down.

  His main job involved shifting money around, with he and his siblings being the worst sort of trust fund babies: spoiled, demanding, and worthless for any type of honest endeavor.

  Aggravated by Ms. Stone’s discourtesy, he checked his watch and paced. Where was she? She’d definitely ruined any first impression.

  Feminine laughter drifted by, and he headed toward it, certain it was Ms. Stone having forgotten their appointment. He located her at the end of the hall, the nameplate, Catherine Stone, prominently displayed next to the door.

  Her back to him, she was over by the window and peering out at the Rocky Mountains that towered on the horizon. She was talking on her cell phone and completely oblivious to his presence.

  He took a moment to study her, and he was confused by her appearance. He’d assumed she was much older and had heard she was a grandmother. The woman standing before him was probably his own age.

  She had to have just finished law school. How could she have participated in enough cases to have developed a reputation as a shark?

  She was short, only five-five or so, with blond hair pulled into a seductive chignon. A few golden tendrils tickled her neck and shoulders. Her dark blue suit should have been boxy and plain, but it couldn’t hide her curvaceous figure. She had a small waist, alluring hips, and shapely calves accentuated by her spiky heels.

  For some reason, he speculated about the color of her eyes, and he was positive they’d be blue. Not that it mattered.

  With his six-foot height, black hair and indigo eyes, with his fortune, name and notoriety, he could have his pick of beautiful companions. He dated starlets and models and would never stoop to fraternization with a lawyer. He didn’t like intelligent, educated women. They babbled about topics that bored him.

  If he deigned to notice a female, it was with one goal in mind, that bein
g wild, raucous sex as often and as rapidly as possible. Since he was driven by primal desires, there was never much need for conversation.

  He didn’t want commitment or bonds. He’d tried them once in a secret elopement at the obscenely young age of nineteen. A few months later, when his irate father had proved that his romp hadn’t been a lark, that his bride had deliberately sought him out, hoping to get her hands on his money, he’d agreed to an annulment. Then he’d sworn off pledges and promises.

  Casual relationships suited him best, and he never intended to attach himself ever again.

  “Ms. Stone!” he snapped.

  She turned slowly, and as she faced him, he saw that her eyes were the precise shade of blue he’d predicted they’d be. He felt impaled, as if they held a magnetic power that prevented him from glancing away. The striking hue was magnified by a pair of clunky glasses, the brown frames making her appear smart and sexy at the same time.

  She was extremely pretty, with creamy skin, rosy cheeks, and pouting lips. Her body was rounded in all the right spots—no hours spent on the treadmill for her!—and he couldn’t help but admit that she was a refreshing change from the starved girls he usually dated.

  They were all bones and sharp angles, while she was smooth and soft and supple.

  He frowned, disgusted to realize that he was assessing her in a sexual way. He always evaluated women in a sexual way, but he was here on business and had to focus on fiscal affairs. Ten million dollars, to be exact.

  “Hello,” she said.

  Her voice was husky and tantalizing, as if she was about to proposition him. She gaped as if she had no idea who he was.

  He was furious at having to explain, “I’m Lucas Merriweather.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Are you Ms. Stone?”

  After the longest pause in history, she said, “Ah…yes, I’m Ms. Stone.”

  “You seem awfully young. I was expecting someone…older.”

  “I’m older than I look.”

  “How much older?”

  “Old enough.”