Tamed by the Outlaw

by Michelle Sharp

  Hell, if she wanted her ass kissed—fine.

  Actually, he’d kissed her ass before and it was, in fact, a world-class ass. As was the rest of her. Tall and curvy. Long, lean legs. And dark hair that waved around her head with wild attitude. Which was nothing but prophetic when you thought about it—even her hair was probably a bitch to tame.

  Unfortunately—he knew from experience—so was the outlaw!

  Chapter Two

  Jessie walked into the ballroom and made her way toward the front. One good thing about seeing Grayson—anger had overtaken her nerves. There were three chairs at the long table up on the stage. She dropped into the middle one.

  Lila was already seated. She glared at Jessie with a red face and her mouth etched into a thin line, looking like she wanted to explode. The microphones weren’t on yet. Still, Lila scooted discretely back from the table. “What the hell was that all about?”

  “Nothing. It’s fine.”

  Lila glared. Not the usual scary one, but the rare terrifying one she only unleashed in extreme situations. “You betta be straight with me, ace. And I sure as hell betta not lose a huge contract because you two bumped uglies and he’s pissed off about it.”

  The room was staggeringly loud, and the moderator had stepped away from the stage. Jessie desperately wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor, but she decided Lila would do less physical harm with three or four hundred witnesses. Now seemed like the safest time to fess up. She turned her head and whispered close to Lila’s ear. “I met him a year ago at this same conference. We sat next to each other in the bar, we had a few drinks, talked for hours. I thought he seemed like a great guy.”

  In spite of her reckless image that had been grossly exaggerated in public, Jessie considered herself almost boring. Never in her life had she participated in a one-night stand—until Grayson. Now she understood why they were, in general, an epically bad idea. “He lied about his name. Told me he was Grayson Smith and that he worked in advertising.”

  “And,” Lila said.

  Jessie blinked. Her throat burned with shame and stupidity. “And yes, I slept with him. But he snuck out before I woke. So that’s it. He lied, used me, then snuck away. A real class act.”

  Lila’s mouth dropped open, snapped shut, then dropped open again. “Don’t you think it would have been wise to mention this to me before now?”

  “Yes. Probably. But I didn’t know who he was until the headline broke that he’d been made the new CEO of R and R. What could I do but write my books and stay as far away from the R and R offices as possible?”

  Jessie shrugged it off, trying to downplay the disastrous mistake. “I’m sorry I lost it. I was just shocked to see him here, but I’m over it.”

  Lila leaned back in her chair and narrowed her eyes. “Well, you betta get over it, and in a big hurry.”

  “Hey, he was the one that used me—”

  Lila held up her hand. “You made a choice to bang a guy you didn’t know at a professional conference. I don’t know the particulars. I don’t want to know. But right now, you and I are both riding a one-in-a-million wave of success in this industry. R and R is the reason for it. So when he walks in here, you’re going to smile, play nice, and pray to the god of publishing we’re both not out on our asses.”

  Jessie looked up. “Great. Here he comes.” She glanced at Lila and could tell her agent had reined in her temper and shifted into damage control guru.

  “Let me tell you somethin’ kid,” Lila whispered. “All these people are here to see you. Even if we’re screwed with R and R, it’s only one publishing company. Grayson Reynolds and R and R may be a thing of the past once your current contract is fulfilled, but these people will be fans forever.”

  Wow, Jessie thought. That was really profound and heartfelt for her brash little New York agent.

  “So smile and don’t be a bitch,” Lila added.

  Jessie did smile. As usual, Lila’s advice was one part pat-on-the-back, mixed with two parts harsh-twist-of-the-arm. It was also spot-on.

  She’d take the higher road. Be kind. Be friendly. Even to asshat. That’s what the crowd would take away. Just a simple, uneventful Q&A. That was the best she could hope for.

  She watched Grayson step up on stage.

  He wore the CEO arrogance well. King of the universe in his navy suit and tie. Tall. Lean. Handsome. No one would guess that under all the mild mannered corporate layers lay a fiercely ripped body with a sexy tattoo and a seriously gifted penis.

  She certainly hadn’t expected it. Nor had she expected to be so entranced by his harmless gray eyes, which darkened to coal as he watched a woman come.

  The flashback struck like lightning. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Thank God no one could read her thoughts.

  Lila kicked her shin. “Focus. On the crowd.”

  I am so screwed…

  Grayson moved behind her and sat in the only vacant chair. His elbow and leg rested just inches from her own. An hour ago, she’d have bet the royalties from her new book that she would never have been sitting this close to Grayson Reynolds.

  The moderator introduced the title of the session: “Ask the Outlaw Anything, featuring erotic romance writer Jessie James.” He pointed to the two microphones in the room and explained that anyone who had a question should get in line.

  About fifteen minutes in, Jessie had to admit things were going better than she expected. The crowd was huge and loud and fun. With the amount of choices people had in entertainment these days, it touched her that so many people had gathered to see her.

  The typical questions came.

  How does it feel to be number one on the New York Times bestseller list?

  What are you writing after the Riding in the Night series is complete?

  Lila and Grayson had both been mostly silent, letting her interact and joke with the audience. Despite Grayson’s presence, she was having a great time. The crowd had grown excited and just a little bit rowdy. Some of the questions were shockingly personal, but she let loose and tried to have fun with it.

  The next fan at the microphone asked, “Is there a special guy in your life who inspires your heroes to be such bad boys at times? Or are they completely made up?”

  In her peripheral vision, Jessie saw Grayson’s head turn toward her. “I’d say they’re a combination of many experiences. Some of them mine. Others just stories I’ve heard from friends. I wanted the heroes to be heroic when it counts, but still believable. Let’s face it, most men are jerks at some point, right? So they wouldn’t be real unless they did a few boneheaded things.”

  The crowd, mostly female, erupted in laughter and agreed.

  The same fan continued, “My book club just wanted to say we love your characters and hope you continue writing the Riders of the Night series. We’ve even forgiven Ian for lying about his identity and sneaking out on Tessa after they made love.”

  Lila made a noise in her throat like the warning growl of a rabid dog.

  Jessie swallowed, ignored Lila, and risked a looked at Grayson, who looked puzzled but not particularly angry, which told her exactly what she wanted to know.

  He hadn’t read her last book.

  If he had, he’d have recognized the subtle nuances of their lovemaking. Not to mention the obvious jab at his character for sneaking out the next morning. Probably not the smartest move she’d ever made, but she’d still been so pissed off when she’d written that scene.

  The next lady at the mic giggled before she spoke. “Okay, my husband is here with me, and he bet me diamond earrings that I wouldn’t really ask this question, so I’m going to ask it.”

  Jessie laughed and rubbed her hands together. “Boy, I bet this is a good one. Where is this husband of yours?”

  The lady pointed, and a very embarrassed looking guy waved.

  Jessie leaned close to the microphone. “Sir, did you promise your wife diamonds if she asks me a question?”

  He nodded.

  S
he had no idea why she’d been so nervous earlier because this was the crap she loved—joking and laughing with an audience. “Dude,” Jessie teased. “You are sooo screwed.”

  The audience roared.

  “Okay girlfriend, shoot. You’ve got several hundred witnesses if he tries to back out. I want to see a picture of these earrings. I’m thinking at least one carat.”

  Completely red-faced, the woman laughed and said, “I told my husband he needed to perform more like Ian did in the bedroom, but he says it’s physically impossible for a man to have back to back orgasms with almost no recovery time, like Ian did. We just wondered if you researched that.”

  The crowd went wild laughing. The doors had opened and it was standing room only. The noise was insane and loud. Apparently, since she wrote erotica, people mistook her for some kind of sex expert. “Well, I’m not a doctor, and I’ve never even played one on TV, but I will say that I do know there are men capable of it.” In fact, there was one sitting right next to her. But she’d gladly endure a public hanging before she’d risk even a glance at him. “And no, I will not divulge my resources on this particular research.”

  The crowd was still roaring when she noticed Grayson reach for one of her books and start to finger through it.

  …

  Holy shit. Grayson had been to rock concerts where there was less hooting and hollering going on. And worse, he was beginning to think he was the butt of a joke.

  Inside a best-selling book.

  That his company published.

  Jessie James was a one-woman show, teasing and laughing with the audience. Being on this damn stage seemed as natural as breathing for her. And the shit people were asking. It was like being trapped on some hybrid of Sex in the City meets Dr. Phil.

  What the fuck?

  As CEO of a publishing house, he couldn’t possibly read every book that passed through the doors. And he never read the romances. He trusted his staff. But he was sure going to read Jessie’s. Like right now.

  Why would his editors let her print something so personal? Okay. That was stupid. Obviously they didn’t know the details had been personal, but he suspected they sure as shit had been.

  “Over here. Go ahead.” Jessie pointed to a lady in the audience.

  “Do you get to pick the covers for your books? How close do the guys on the front look like what you’ve pictured in your head?”

  Jessie laughed. “Well, I get some input. I describe my heroes, what I think they look like. But ultimately, the designers do their thing. And usually they do a pretty darn good job. I’ve had no complaints so far.”

  “Because the guy on the front of the Ian book is smoking hot,” the lady at the mic said. “Do you know if that cover model is at this conference?”

  “It just so happens that I know him well. His name is Stan Marcus, and I think he’ll be wandering around the book signing tonight if you want a picture with him.”

  Grayson flipped the book shut, looked at the cover. The guy did kind of bear an eerie similarity to his own appearance. Same hair color, similar eyes, but the dude was huge and ripped. Grayson worked out, but this guy had to be on steroids or something. And fake Fabio didn’t likely run a multimillion dollar publishing business. The bonehead obviously had nothing better to do than lift weights for a living.

  “Can you tell us about the charity you’re involved with? The one that received over half a million dollars after your appearance on Celebrity Challenge?”

  Grayson looked up. Finally, a real question. It was a local news reporter.

  “My charity of choice for that particular show was the Urban Literacy Outreach Program. ULOP does a wonderful job of promoting literacy for every child—even in areas where the school systems don’t have enough money to fund extra help for the children struggling to read.”

  The room had quieted considerably in light of the serious shift in topic. Grayson looked at Jessie, hearing the shift in her voice and sensing an immediate change in her tension level.

  The reporter said, “So when you were asked to appear on the reality show Celebrity Challenge for Charity, you agreed to participate in a skydiving stunt. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” Jessie said stiffly.

  “When the shoot didn’t open and the video got national attention, over a half a million dollars was raised for your charity. And shortly after, your books climbed higher and higher up the charts. What would you say to those who believe it was a planned stunt between you, your publishing house, and the TV show to garner more money for your charity, sell more books, not to mention increase ratings for Celebrity Challenge? That sounds like a victory for everyone.”

  Grayson had watched that video. A few times. Jessie had jumped tandem with an instructor and their parachute had become tangled. Even though they’d released a backup chute, seeing her collide viciously with the ground had made him lose his dinner. While he certainly wasn’t Jessie’s number one fan, only an idiot would suggest she’d taken that fall on purpose.

  “Well… I’d say the four broken bones in my legs hadn’t felt much like a victory at the time. Although I survived. And I’m very grateful for the quick thinking and skilled skydiving instructor who fought to save us.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.” The reporter pressed on. “Was any part of the stunt rigged to fail in order to increase the drama?”

  Grayson felt his temper surge. He expected a bold, vicious response from Jessie. In fact, he couldn’t wait for her to put the arrogant reporter in her place.

  “Absolutely not,” Jessie answered. She swallowed, and her breath became unsteady—a complete turnaround from the happy, sexy diva of a few minutes ago.

  Grayson tapped his mic to make sure everyone heard what he was going to say loud and clear. “Personally, I’d worry about the IQ of anyone who’d suggest that a person would jump out of an airplane with a shoot rigged to fail. Would you take that chance?”

  The reporter looked at him, but didn’t answer.

  “If so, I’d be happy to arrange an airplane and a tangled shoot for you to wear. Does that sound like something you’d like to do simply to increase your ratings?”

  “The question is out there, Mr. Reynolds,” the reporter answered. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  “And I’m saying it sounds like an extravagant lie made up by people who like to stir trouble for a living. The theory makes no sense in any way. Financially, why would my publishing house risk the life of a bestselling author to temporarily increase sales for one book? That’s not a smart long-term financial move. And I’m fairly certain Celebrity Challenge goes to extreme measures to ensure the safety of all celebrities who appear on the show.”

  Jessie stared straight ahead, but Grayson glanced at her hands, fisted and white-knuckled against the table. Discreetly, he put a hand on top of hers and squeezed, just hard enough to draw her back. “I can personally ensure that Ms. James has much easier ways to secure funds for a charity than jumping from an airplane. No gambling with loss of life or limb necessary. R and R is always happy to donate to a good cause on behalf of one of our authors.”

  The crowd cheered his statement. The outlaw had some devoted fans, he’d give her that.

  Jessie looked down at his hand that was covering hers. There may have been a hint of a smile, but it was hard to tell through all the hair and makeup.

  She leaned into the microphone and gave him a sheepish look. “Are you saying R and R would like to donate some money to my charity?”

  And…she was back. He pulled his hand away. Damn woman. Try to be nice and get sucked into donating money.

  “Are you saying you’d like to renegotiate your contract, maybe even write a couple more Riders in the Night books?” he said. “I bet your fans would love to hear that.”

  On second thought, maybe this was working out just fine. “How are your poker skills, outlaw?”

  Jessie raised a brow in question. “Folks, unless I’m mistaken, I believe my publisher just chall
enged me to a poker match.”

  The audience erupted into cheers.

  Grayson smiled. He’d been playing poker with his gramps since he’d been old enough to hold cards. The challenge seemed like harmless fun. And a good way to suggest publicly that she’d write a couple more books. She’d almost have to sign the contract with King of Hearts to get the benefit of their promotions department. Fans didn’t care who published the books as long as she wrote them. Grayson threw up his hands like he’d been had. “I never argue with an outlaw.”

  “Fifty grand to my charity if I win,” she said. “A one-book extension if you win.” She held out her hand.

  Grayson shook her hand, feeling pretty damn pleased with himself.

  The moderator approached the microphone and shut down the session.

  Jessie walked to the front of the stage and started mingling and signing autographs with the crowd. Lila Kent, Jessie’s bulldog of an agent walked up to him and stared.

  “You think you pulled something over on her, don’t you? Got her to agree to extend her contract publicly, so she can’t back out of it.”

  “Now Lila,” he said, full of mock innocence. “You’ve known the Reynolds family forever. Does that sound like something I would do?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “It does. But there’s something you should know. Celebrity Challenge isn’t the only cable show she’s been on.” Lila gathered up her things and shoved them into a briefcase. “Celebrity Poker Showdown. Season seven. Check it out.”

  …

  Jessie chased Lila out of the ballroom. “On a scale of one to screwed, exactly how mad are you?”

  Lila halted in her tracks, closed her eyes, and held up a hand. “Don’t. Talk. To me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jessie mumbled like a kid who been caught hiding the whole damn cookie jar in her closet.

  “I’m going to the bar.” Lila looked at her watch. “I’m going to drink as many Jim Beams as I can hold between now and the book signing.”