My Stallion Heart (The Stallions Book 7)

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  Natalie laughed. “I don’t remember anyone promising you dessert.”

  “Can’t have dinner without having dessert.”

  “Says you.”

  “Says everybody.”

  She laughed again as she moved back onto her feet and headed in the direction of the door. “I don’t put much stock in what everybody has to say,” she retorted.

  Tinjin moved behind her, his strides long and quick. He reached the door just as she grasped for the handle. He kicked the luggage he’d rested there earlier out of his way. He stretched an arm around her waist and cradled her against himself, the curve of her buttocks sinking nicely along the bulge through his groin. Then he planted a damp kiss at the back of her neck.

  Natalie gasped, gyrating her hips back against him. “You don’t play fair,” she muttered, fighting to stall the waves of heat that had suddenly flooded her body.

  “Neither do you,” Tinjin murmured as he continued to nibble at her flesh, the length of an erection hardening against her backside.

  Natalie suddenly pushed him from her. She took a long inhale, then let the warm breath out slowly. Spinning in his arms she kissed him one last time, her sensuous touch eager and yearning.

  “Don’t be late, TJ! I’d hate to see someone else get your sweets,” she said teasingly. Then she spun on her heel and out the door, the memory of her touch still burning hot against Tinjin’s lips.

  Tinjin sighed again as he closed the door behind her, pressing his forehead to the wooden structure. His body quivered slightly as he sucked in deep breaths to steady his nerves.

  He liked Natalie. He liked her a lot. Her impromptu welcoming party at the airport had been an enlightening moment. He’d been missing her and until that moment hadn’t realized just how much. Everything about the beauty excited him. She was quickly becoming his drug of choice and it was becoming harder to deny his addiction. But he knew that Natalie Stallion was a woman who was going to make him work for whatever happened between them. And she was going to make him work hard. Standing there thinking about her, with the lengthy protrusion in his slacks tight and hard, Tinjin knew beyond any doubts that he’d be willing to do whatever it took to have her.

  * * *

  Natalie was still shaking as she made her way to her car. She could still feel Tinjin’s hands and fingers, the warmth from them having ignited every one of her nerve endings. The fervor was explosive and she was grateful for the cool rain that had begun to fall overhead. The moisture was just enough to stall the tremors of heat that had threatened to consume her.

  She took a deep breath and then a second.

  Her desire for Tinjin Braddy was mystifying, like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Seeing him again had ignited something torrid inside her and she felt herself falling headfirst into the growing emotion that swept between them like a firestorm. She had needed to put some serious distance between them, to soothe the desire and urgency that had risen with a vengeance with his touch. Natalie knew that if she had stayed, nothing would have stopped her from giving in to the yearning that had threatened to expose itself.

  She inhaled swiftly, filling her lungs with the cool morning air. She was excited about the prospect of what might happen with her and Tinjin. So much so that she couldn’t think straight and Natalie had never before felt so out of control with any man.

  Pulling her car into traffic she trembled with anticipation. Thoughts of Tinjin spiraled through her head as she pondered the possibilities. She suddenly smiled. Dinner might have to wait. Dessert suddenly had her full attention.

  Chapter 10

  Jean-Paul Vivier extended his hand in greeting. Tinjin smiled and shook it eagerly.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Jean-Paul said, his thick accent sounding like his tongue was wrapped in sandpaper. “Your reputation precedes you.”

  “Thank you,” Tinjin said as Jean-Paul gestured toward an empty leather seat in his office. “It’s nice to meet you, as well, and I appreciate you taking this meeting with me.”

  “Well, I was very excited when I heard you were looking for an investor. I have been a big fan of your men’s line for years and I am quite impressed with the strides you’ve made with all your other endeavors. Your designs are stellar and you’ve made quite a name for yourself. Everyone in the industry is talking about you and that’s the kind of partner I’d like to have.”

  Tinjin nodded. “Well, I appreciate the kind words, but as I told you on the phone, I’m not looking for a hands-on partner. I’m looking for venture capital, a line of credit that will allow me to grow my business without any financial distractions.”

  Jean-Paul nodded, his dark eyes locked squarely on Tinjin’s face. He leaned back in his leather executive’s chair, one hand caressing the short length of goatee that adorned his broad chin. “I reviewed your prospectus and as it stands now, if I invest, I’d be taking all the risk. So why should I gamble my money on you?”

  Tinjin leaned back in his seat, as well, crossing his ankle over his knee. He clasped both hands around his calf, clutching his lower leg. “Because I’m exceptionally good at what I do,” he started as he proceeded to support that statement with facts and data. His numbers were impressive as he quantified his accomplishments in the numeric language venture capitalists thrived on. “In return,” he concluded, “you’ll get your investment back with interest, as well as a two-and-one-half percent share of my company.”

  Jean-Paul nodded slowly. “I couldn’t even consider this deal for less than ten percent.”

  “Everything’s negotiable but if I consider a larger percentage of the equity, then I would expect a significantly lower interest rate, like three percent instead of thirty.”

  The other man smiled, the lift to his lips showcasing an imperfect grille. It was a stark contrast with his expensive silk suit, manicured eyebrows and Elvis Presley haircut.

  “I’m throwing a dinner party in a few weeks, after I get back from Italy. My assistant will call you with the details. Plan to attend,” Jean-Paul said. “I’ll have my answer for you then.”

  Tinjin rose to his feet. He extended his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vivier,” he said before heading toward the door.

  As the door closed and locked after Tinjin’s exit, Jean-Paul reached for his cell phone and depressed a speed dial number. He held the device gingerly as he waited for someone on the other end to answer. Seconds later, when the call was forwarded to voice mail, he left a message. “Natalia, darling! It’s me, Jean-Paul. I’m having a small gathering of industry powerhouses. It wouldn’t be a party if you weren’t there. I also hear the Chanel group is looking for a new face. I’ve already plugged you for the job so you really need to show up so I can introduce you to Karl Lagerfeld. I’ll call you back with all the details.”

  * * *

  Natalie deleted the messages on her answering machine, only bothering to make a mental note to return her agent’s call. The others could call her back, or not, she thought as she moved into her bedroom to change her clothes.

  Dinner was simmering nicely in the oven and she had just enough time to take a quick shower and slip into something fashionably cute before Tinjin would be knocking at her door. Excitement bubbled like a fountain in the pit of her stomach, her knees quivering from her frazzled nerves. For the first time since forever she was anxious for everything to be perfect. No man before Tinjin had ever been that lucky.

  Stepping beneath the spray, Natalie relished the flow of warm water over her skin. Her bodywash was a Bath & Body Works treasure she’d brought back with her from the States. The scent was Japanese Cherry Blossom and with its hint of pear and sandalwood everything about it screamed luscious and sexy. So much so, she’d purchased the body lotion and the perfume and was set on slathering both over her skin before slipping into the little black dress she’d selected to wear
for dinner. She took a deep inhale and imagined the delicate scent teasing Tinjin’s nostrils. A smile bloomed full and wide across her face and she giggled, the sound echoing about the space.

  When she’d scrubbed every curve and crevice of her body she wrapped a plush white towel around her torso and hurried back to her bedroom. Minutes later she stood in front of her floor-length mirror, assessing her reflection. She’d pulled her hair up into a loose ponytail. Her makeup was simple, the barest hint of eyeliner, mascara and a nude lip gloss decorating her face. And the bohemian-style dress was perfection, complementing her lean figure. She partnered the simple cotton frock with a pair of beaded flip-flops.

  She suddenly pulled at the elastic that held her hair in place, allowing the thick tresses to fall down to her shoulders. She pulled her fingers through the locks, shaking her head. She stared at herself, sighed heavily, then reached for the hairbrush that rested on her dressing table. Just as she finished redoing her ponytail the doorbell rang, the loud jingle announcing Tinjin’s arrival. A wave of panic crossed her face as she stole one last glance in the mirror and headed for the front door.

  Hesitating, Natalie took a deep inhale of breath, her hand shaking as she reached for the doorknob. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, just wanting everything to be perfect when he saw her again. She paused and took a step back, then rushed into the kitchen to check on the meal. The bell rang a second time.

  Tinjin stood anxiously outside the front of Natalie’s luxury home. The neighborhood’s reputation was one of affluence, the area known for its large Victorian townhouses and high-class shopping and restaurants. He stared out at the view of the impeccably manicured park across the way. The sun was beginning to set and the warm, humid air promised storms that would wash away the heat and bring some much-needed coolness. Glancing up one side of the street and down the other he couldn’t help but note the casual, aristocratic atmosphere outside the woman’s front door. His friend Gnat was living well, he thought to himself.

  Tinjin was casually dressed in black slacks and a white dress shirt open at the collar. He held on to a bottle of wine with his left hand, his car keys twisting nervously in his right hand. It had been a long day and although he could feel the onset of jet lag in his muscles he was excited at the prospect of spending time with Natalie. Missing her when they were apart was beginning to take on a life of its own, the emotion corporeal as it swelled through his heart.

  When there was no answer after he’d rung the bell for the third time, he pounded the door with his fist, the harsh rap reflecting his anxiousness. He was prepared to knock again when Natalie finally pulled the door open.

  “Hi!” she said, fighting to keep her tone calm and even.

  Tinjin grinned, his broad smile filling his face. “Hi!” he responded as she welcomed him inside.

  “You’re late,” Natalie stated as she closed and locked the door behind him.

  He shook his head. “I was early. You took forever to answer the door and let me in.”

  Tinjin leaned to press a soft kiss against her cheek. He eyed her intently as he pulled back, passing the bottle of wine into her hands. The faintest of flutters tickled Natalie’s midsection.

  She took a deep breath and held it before shrugging her narrow shoulders. “I really didn’t take that long,” she said, meeting the intense stare he was giving her.

  Tinjin nodded. “You did, but I understand.”

  She gave him a curious look. “You do?”

  “I’m thinking you had to get the food out of the take-out boxes and toss them into the trash before you let me in.”

  Natalie laughed. “Really?”

  “Why else would it take you so long to answer the door?” He chuckled softly.

  She narrowed her gaze. “I’ll have you know I cooked. From scratch, cooked.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Tinjin said teasingly.

  Natalie waved an index finger in his direction. She pointed to her dining-room table. “Sit down and when you’re done apologizing, TJ, I might let you slide,” she said as she headed back to the kitchen.

  Tinjin laughed heartily as he moved to the dining room. His gaze flitted around the space as he took in the view. Natalie had been right about her home being museumlike. The artwork was spectacular and much thought had been given to its presentation. Taking in the decor, he was duly impressed, something about the space still feeling warm and inviting. Everything about her home was reflective of the woman he was getting to know.

  The dining room was exquisite. Polished wood furniture, oversize upholstered chairs and a large, beveled-glass chandelier decorated the space. A five-panel abstract oil painting floated against the neutral-toned walls. The image reminded him of the Greek shoreline at dusk. He leaned in to study it more closely. From the other room he heard the distinct rattle of pots and pans, a gentle tinkle of glass, and a low cuss word murmured under Natalie’s breath.

  “Everything okay in there?” he asked, his voice rising above the soft lull of music that played in the background.

  “Everything is fine, thank you!” Natalie called back.

  Tinjin smiled, continuing his tour of her personal possessions. The dining table was mahogany and round, a piece of art itself. Tinjin drew his hand slowly over the polished finish, admiring the craftsmanship. “Hey, I really like your table!” he called out.

  “Thank you! It’s a Fletcher Capstan table,” Natalie called back.

  “Really?”

  He could sense her nodding her head. “After dinner I’ll show you how it expands,” Natalie said as she suddenly moved to his side. She carried a glass baking dish that she set on a heat pad that rested table center.

  “It’s really the coolest thing,” she continued, excitement flooding her words. “It’s a spinning kaleidoscope of wood that will double its seating capacity. It’s truly a brilliant masterpiece of carpentry and geometry. I absolutely love this table!”

  Familiar with the British luxury furniture maker, Tinjin laughed again. “Must be nice. The only other Fletcher Capstan table I’ve ever seen was on a private yacht.”

  Natalie pulled the oven mitts from her hands. “What private yacht?”

  “The Vanessa-Lynn out of the British Isles. It’s owned by a good friend of mine.”

  “Ernesto Vega is a friend of yours?”

  Tinjin grinned. “A good friend. We go way back and I was best man at his wedding. How do you know Ernie?”

  Natalie shook her head from side to side. “I’ve walked in two of his shows,” she said, acknowledging the star dress designer. “And his wife and I modeled together many years ago.”

  “Vanessa doesn’t model much anymore. Not since the baby was born.”

  Natalie gestured for Tinjin to take a seat. “Talk about a small world!”

  His head bobbed up and down against his broad shoulders. “Theirs was the first table I ever saw. I played with it for almost an hour I was so intrigued!”

  “The first time I saw that table I had to have one. Ernesto put a word in for me with the builder.”

  “I’m sure you still paid a pretty penny for it.”

  She nodded. “Had to do some print work I really didn’t want to do,” she exclaimed, “but I got my table!”

  Tinjin chuckled softly as she turned in an about-face and exited the room. After returning to the kitchen twice more, Natalie finally took the seat across from him. The table settings were elegant, Natalie’s best china and crystal atop woven placemats. The meal was baked spaghetti, an amalgamation of pasta, sharp cheddar cheese and fresh tomatoes, partnered with garlic bread and a tossed salad. She dished both their plates then bowed her head as he said grace and blessed the meal.

  As they dove into the food, the anxiety both had been feeling earlier seemed to dissipate. Conversation came effortlessly, reminiscent of t
heir time together in the United States. They soon learned that for everything they had in common, there was much they didn’t agree on. Tinjin’s favorite color was green, hers was red. He loved meat and she could have easily lived on a vegetarian diet. Their debates were animated and filled with laughter. By the time Tinjin had shoveled down his third plate of food, he couldn’t imagine that there was much more that he hadn’t told her about himself.

  Natalie was feeling the same way. Tinjin was easy to talk to and there was no subject off limits. They found a nice balance with each other, a comfortable give-and-take that worked well. She liked that he made her laugh and that his wisecracks came almost as fast as her own. She found herself grinning as he stabbed at the last bite of his spaghetti with his fork.

  “Do you always eat that much food?”

  He swiped at his mouth with an oversize paper napkin. “I do when the food is good.”

  She clapped her hands excitedly. “I told you I could cook!”

  Tinjin’s smile was expansive and intoxicating. He nodded his head. “I have to admit it. I’m very impressed. This was really good.”

  “How good was it?”

  “So good that I owe you an apology.”

  She grinned back. “You owe me more than an apology!”

  Tinjin watched as she rose from her seat, gathering the empty dishes. The back of her dress was open, exposing her warm brown skin. The design dipped low toward the arch of her buttocks. His eyes followed the line of her spine down to the luscious curve of her backside. Unable to resist, Tinjin gave the round bubble a light smack that made Natalie yelp in surprise.

  He lifted his brow as she cut her eye at him, giggles erupting from her midsection.

  “Excuse you!”

  “I couldn’t help myself,” he said with a slight shrug and a self-assured smile. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his extended legs at the ankles. “So,” he said with a quick pause, “what’s for dessert?”