“Or maybe you could see our place as an investment?” she continued. “Turn it into one of your destination resorts? I know my dad wasn’t too excited about that, but,” she shrugged, “I think maybe he was wrong.”
I had tried to talk to Harlan back in the day. He’d shut the idea down fast.
“Declan, I swear, if you give me a loan I’ll pay you back every penny with interest. And I’ll work hard to do it. You name the terms.”
Our eyes locked, hers heated and passionate, mine still cool and controlled. “I name the terms.” My voice came out low, commanding.
She swallowed, nervous. My gaze caressed her, down her throat, resting on her gorgeous breasts straining against that white t-shirt. I wanted to bring my hands to them, fingers teasing, lightly pinching her nipples to make her gasp. As if responding to my fantasy, her breath drew into a soft pant. Fuck if her nipples didn’t tighten, hardening for me into two pebbles stretched against the thin fabric. She’d always been so responsive, so suggestive of how nasty she might get right beneath that light surface of perfect.
Through the speaker on my phone, my assistant’s crisp, professional voice announced, “Sir, your next appointment is here.”
I’d like to hear Kara call me “sir.” She flushed. I wondered if she could read my mind.
“Two minutes,” I responded. This meeting was over. But I wasn’t done with Kara, not yet.
Leaning forward in my chair, the stealth of a panther stalking its prey, I told Kara, “I’ll consider it.” She waited for more, trapped and nervous. “Tonight, seven o’clock,” I continued. “Meet me for dinner at the restaurant in the Stanyon Hotel. Do you know it?”
She shook her head no.
“Fig and Fennel, a couple of blocks from here.” I stood up and slowly approached her. I loved her temper. I couldn’t resist stoking it, playing with it. I liked seeing a flash of anger in her eyes a hell of a lot more than the sadness I’d seen creeping around the edges. Raising an index finger to her, I issued a challenge. “You want a loan? Give me your best pitch.”
She arched an eyebrow, disbelieving and a little pissed off. “My best pitch?”
“I’m not easy to persuade,” I continued, moving closer. When you stood over six feet tall, you could use your height to your advantage, take your time and then draw yourself up to own all of the space around you.
I looked down at her. She was 5’6” and all curves. My voice low and slightly teasing, I told her, “You need to sell me. You’d better bring it.”
Now with a hot blaze of anger in her eyes, Kara glared at me with defiance. “Seven o’clock. I’ll be there.”
I towered over her, holding her gaze and I could see her breathing grow shallow. Clearly needing to create some distance, she took a step back. And another. I kept my focus on her and gave a nod of dismissal. She turned around and practically ran out of my office.
I watched her hustle away. If she had any sense at all she would keep on moving, skip dinner in favor of a long drive back to her ranch. She’d realize that she had far safer options than what I offered.
Kara Brooks. The one I’d wanted most. The one I’d never gotten to have. Not really, not the way I wanted her, for days on end, pounding and relentless as she moaned and screamed for more.
Back when I’d known her, I’d still had nothing. I’d been the kid pressing my nose up against the window of the candy shop, licking my lips and salivating over a sweet hopelessly out of reach.
Kara was the candy. And now I wasn’t just being offered up a platter of treats. I was being handed the keys to the whole fucking store.
CHAPTER 3
Kara
Then
It was the first hot afternoon of the spring, early April and already into the 80s. And it was Friday to boot. My friends and I had a bonfire planned that night down by the lake. I was stopping home for a second to grab a few things and pull on my new bikini, pink gingham with a ruffle up top. My best friend Mandy said it was super cute and she had great taste, but I still felt self-conscious about it.
I’d developed a lot over the years, heading on down the alphabet from Bs to Cs and I seemed to be getting even closer to D-cups every day. Sometimes it was fun, I liked how I filled things out, but sometimes it felt like too much. I could still remember racing around in nothing but a t-shirt, no worries, but I guessed that was a good four or even five years ago. Time was a funny thing. Now at 18 when I cheered with the squad I had to wear not one jog bra but two to tame the girls. The twins, as my boyfriend Bruce liked to call them. Ha ha.
We’d started dating a few months ago. It all seemed kind of inevitable. I was a cheerleader, co-captain with Mandy for senior year. Bruce was the quarterback. We looked good together, both blond and blue-eyed. Ken and Barbie. My daddy liked that we were a couple. He liked to talk about how Bruce came from a good family, as if that upped my chances for having the same someday. Bruce’s daddy was the mayor and folks talked about him getting ready to run for governor, maybe even try for a senate seat one day. He sure did like the public spotlight and never missed a photo op. He seemed to like me and Bruce together, too, taking more than a few pics with one arm around his son’s shoulder, one arm around mine.
We’d taken one that afternoon at the pep rally at school. Technically, spring sports were track and softball, but they didn’t exactly draw the crowds. Our football and basketball teams were a different story, though. Pretty much the whole town turned out for their games, which I know wasn’t saying too much for a town of 2,700, but we made the most out of what we had. And we certainly knew how to party. Our football team had made it into the state championships earlier that year and the whole town was still high off of it. We kept making up excuses to cheer and rally and bring the boys back into the gym, even if this time it was in the name of finishing up the school year.
That’s why I was in my cheerleading uniform that afternoon. We’d bounced out into the gym and gotten the crowd all hyped up, given everyone a chance to scream and shout. But it wasn’t as if I was going to wear my uniform out to the lake. I needed to change.
I pulled up by the side of the house pretty quick. The dust billowed out from the tires of my truck. Daddy was always telling me to slow down, saying I was going to break my neck one of these days. But I knew those old country roads like the back of my hand and nothing felt better than ripping around on them, windows rolled down, wind in my hair, tunes blasting from the radio as I tapped on the steering wheel and sang my heart out.
As the dust settled, I realized Daddy was standing out by the house. And he wasn’t alone.
You know how I said time was funny? Sometimes it speeds up real fast but other times it stretches out slow as molasses. Well, when I stepped out of that truck and got a good look at the man standing next to my father, time just about stopped.
He was long and lean, slim hips and strong shoulders, so sexy and rugged. He stood with one hand in the pocket of his jeans, watching me underneath the brim of his cowboy hat with heavy, low-lidded eyes. There was something about him, some kind of dark and powerful magnetism that made me forget to breathe.
I’d probably seen one too many old movies. My dad and I loved to stay up late with a bowl of popcorn and watch black and white classics. When I looked at him, I saw James Dean in a black leather jacket, a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth. I half expected him to have a motorcycle nearby. He’d straddle it, look over his shoulder and give me the nod to come along. I’d jump up next to him, pressed in close in a hot second.
“Kara, when are you gonna slow down?” My daddy waved his hand through the air, real theatrical over the dust.
“I was going the speed limit, Daddy.” For the Interstate. I batted my eyelashes.
“Don’t you give me that innocent look.” But he was smiling at me. I had him wrapped around my pinky finger. But I didn’t take advantage of it. Much. He’d had it rough, losing my mom in childbirth with me. We were all either of us had, so we took care of each othe
r. And I sometimes gave him a splitting headache with my music and acted like a pain in the rear staying out too late. But I was a teenager, after all. It was practically written into my contract to be a problem every now and then.
“Come on over here and meet Declan. He’s going to be helping us out through the summer.”
I walked toward them and he watched me, leaning against our house with one big boot up against the shingles like he owned the place. Under his gaze I walked unsteady on my feet in my own yard. I felt so excruciatingly self-aware, my bare legs, the tiny skirt of my silly uniform. I wished I’d already changed before I met this guy. It seemed so juvenile, like I’d been caught playing with my old Barbie dolls. Cheerleading suddenly seemed so… high school. He looked like he’d traveled to faraway places I’d never heard of and though he didn’t really look that much older than me he seemed like he already understood more about life than I ever would. Somehow he looked aloof, a million miles away, even though he stood right there before me in dusty boots and jeans.
A lick of a tattoo slid out under the sleeve of his t-shirt, coiling around the bulge of his bicep. I wondered what it was. It looked like it might be the tip of a snake, but then as I got closer I thought I saw a pattern.
Sensing my interest, he crossed his arms against his chest and brought his hands up over his arms. I couldn’t see the tattoo anymore. I could see him stare me down cold, unfriendly, almost reprimanding.
I bit my lip and looked down at the dirt. He’d caught me checking him out. And he didn’t want me to. How embarrassing.
“This here’s my little girl, Kara.” My daddy gave me a pat on the head like I was five.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said to Declan, cool and polite, trying save face like I hadn’t just left a trail of drool walking over to him.
He nodded in response, dismissive.
Turning toward my father, my smile came back. “Daddy, can I head out to the lake tonight? A bunch of us want to hang out.”
“Is Bruce taking you?”
“Yes.”
“Course you can, princess.”
Oh, no. The nickname he’d been using since I was a little kid. Every photo from the ages of three to five showed me in some kind of princess costume. I’d loved it all, funny pointed hats with satin streamers out the top, sparkly wands, and of course the big, poofy gowns I’d worn until they were nothing but tattered rags. My father had indulged me, his only child, the only girl on his big ranch. And until now, princess had seemed like a sweet term of endearment. Now, though? I felt as dumb as an 18-year-old with some corny dress-up princess hat on top of my head. Why couldn’t he have just used my name?
Sure enough, Declan had a smirk on his face. Not the kind you could see breaking into a big, fun laugh. A quiet kind, real controlled, that could be gone in an instant.
“Declan’ll be staying down in the old cabin,” my father said. “Until September.”
His level, cool gaze made me shiver. I couldn’t see much of his hair underneath that cowboy hat, but I could tell it was dark. I could picture it hanging low across his forehead like the lead singer of my favorite band. Only I was pretty sure Declan would get himself kicked out of a band in about 60 seconds. He looked dangerous, the way his eyes narrowed, watchful. He kept one fist balled at his side, and even though he leaned against the house, his chest stayed strong and solid like a cobra waiting to strike. He looked like he’d been in a lot of fights. And I bet most of them he’d won.
“Have a good time, sugar.” Daddy gave me another smile, then turned his attention back to Declan. I headed straight into the house. I had places to go and people to see. I wasn’t going to let that guy rattle me, no matter how deadly sexy he was.
But later that night as I sat around the bonfire with all my friends, Bruce goofing around like he couldn’t toast a marshmallow right for me so he could keep eating them all himself, my mind wandered. What was Declan up to right then? Was he back in the old cabin? I wondered if we even had a TV set in there for him. The last person to live there had been an older guy who’d come round several summers to help out when things got busy. But that had been a while ago. Had anyone even tidied things up?
Maybe Declan had gone out into town? We didn’t have much going on, but there were a couple of places. There was the grill that stayed open until about eleven and had a decent dartboard in back. But if I had to guess, I’d bet he headed down to the Silver Dollar Saloon. I frowned at the thought. I’d never been into the bar, of course, and my daddy had warned me he never did want to see me hanging around that place. I could see why. Late at night if we ever drove past the parking lot, it would be full of 18-wheelers, motorcycles, clusters of men smoking and drinking and more than likely a fistfight. Basically it was on the corner of seedy and rowdy. One time I’d seen a man with a woman up against his truck and I couldn’t be sure, we were driving fast and it was late, but under the streetlight it sure looked like they were doing more than just kissing.
Had Declan gone there? And if he had, who was he with? Instantly, I pictured Darlene with her dark red lipstick and knowing smile. She’d graduated a few years ahead of me. She specialized in jean skirts that barely covered her you-know-what and fishnet stockings, usually with a few holes ripped into them. Real classy. My frown deepened.
“I’m just playing.” Bruce elbowed me and handed me a toasted marshmallow. “You knew I was going to give you one.”
I smiled at him and his attention turned back to the group. A couple of guys were horsing around and pretending to swordfight with some sticks, like they should be wearing pirate costumes or something. I wondered what Declan would think of it all, hicks out goofing off the same way we had ever since we were kids.
“Last one in has to haul it all!” One of Bruce’s friends yelled out, then raced toward the lake. I knew better than to ignore that threat. I didn’t want to have to lug a cooler and a couple of beach blankets up through the sand. I peeled off my shorts and shirt ran like the wind, dusting more than a few of my tipsier friends as I tore down to the shore and dove into the cool, clear water.
It wasn’t until late that night that my mind returned once again to Declan. I lay in bed and realized that from the window in my room I could see his cabin. At night I would be able to tell what he was up to, if he was in and awake. Tonight he was either asleep or still out. His window was dark.
I had to admit, I was a little surprised that Daddy had hired him. Declan looked like trouble. He was no mild-mannered hermit who barely managed a “thank you, ma’am” if I fixed some sandwiches for the guys for lunch. We’d had a bunch of those types before, seasonal workers just passing through, drifting through life. My father was pretty good at picking out the trustworthy from the troublesome characters, and so far they’d all been harmless. A little lost, maybe, but they’d never caused any problems.
Declan looked hungry. His eyes burned something fierce. I’d met him for all of a minute and I didn’t know what I was talking about, not really, but it was a feeling I had. I couldn’t see him aimlessly bouncing around like this for long, picking up seasonal work on other people’s ranches. He seemed destined for something more. Maybe that’s why my daddy had hired him. Maybe he thought we could use a little more fire in the furnace, maybe even a few new ideas. That’d be interesting.
My head on my soft pillow, a warm spring breeze blew in gentle through the open window, making my white cotton curtains slowly undulate. It was the kind of night you loved to fall asleep, closing your eyes with a smile on your face.
Only tonight, I stayed awake for a while. I had some vivid images in my mind. A strong, masculine jaw set hard like something had made him angry. Corded muscles that had bulged when he’d crossed his arms across his chest. Worn jeans that hung low on his lean hips.
I’d never given much thought to that kind of guy before. We had a few of the dark and dangerous types in my high school. You’d pass them on the way to gym while they smoked a cigarette, skipping some class or another. U
sually it didn’t take long before they dropped out, got arrested or both. I knew some girls went in for that stuff. I wasn’t one of them.
My boyfriend Bruce was a good guy. He was about to head off to U Montana to get his four-year college degree just like his father before him. He’d make some girl real happy someday, I knew that much. I didn’t know about that far down along the line myself, but I did know that right now we fit together like two puzzle pieces. You didn’t even have to think about it, it just worked. Easy.
But Declan. All rough edges and darkness, like you’d never exactly know what he’d say or do next. He seemed dangerous somehow, not violent but exuding a kind of raw power I felt helplessly drawn to, even when I knew I shouldn’t be. He was like a fantasy I didn’t even know I had.
Now
“Are you OK?” A woman with a kind face and a baby stroller stopped by my side.
Doubled over, hands on my thighs, I took a few deep gulps of air. Then I stood up, put on a fake smile and lied through my teeth. “Fine, thanks!”
Outside Declan’s office building, I didn’t know which way to turn. I did know that I needed to calm the hell down after seeing that man again for the first time in six long years.
What had happened up there in his office? He hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t said no. He’d sat there and surveyed me, all wealth and power. I’d never seen him in a suit before. The shirt taut against his broad chest, his jacket tailored to meet the wide expanse of his shoulders, he looked right at home behind his massive desk, a king on his throne. Yet somehow he still looked like he might strip off the constraints at any moment, unleashing the beast within. The intense, hungry look in his eyes and his tanned skin contrasted with the crisp, white shirt collar, the masculine virility of him wrapped in a suit.
His jet black hair was cropped shorter now than before, all business. But he had the same chiseled jaw, the same mouth I still dreamed of six years later. The same dark, restless heat
Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Unleashed #1-4; Beg for It #1) Page 3