by Francis Ray
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for all the fantastic support for Dreaming of You. You fell in love with Brandon, and agreed with Ruth that Faith McBride was the perfect woman for him.
Now it’s Pierce, the playboy, the logical one, the thinker, whose turn it is to fight falling in love. We’ve watched him play the field in Until There Was You, You and No Other, and Dreaming of You. Pierce called it “storing up memories” for when his time came and he was next on his mother’s infamous marriage hit list. He firmly believes no woman can tame him, but that’s before he meets stunning Broadway actress Sabra Raineau. Things are about to heat up in Santa Fe.
The next and last Grayson is Sierra, the baby sister, the loyal one. Beautiful, stubborn, and reckless, Sierra might meet her match in reclusive real estate mogul Blade Navarone. I hope you enjoy the excerpt of Sierra’s story, Only You, which will be in stores in October.
By the way, besides Blade, the other dark and dangerous men in Dreaming of You might show up in their own books. Time will tell.
Please visit my Web site and sign up for my mailing list. I look forward to seeing many of you during my tour.
Have a wonderful life,
Francis Ray
P.O. Box 764651
Dallas, TX 75376
E-mail: [email protected]
www.Francisray.com
ALSO BY FRANCIS RAY
Dreaming of You
Any Rich Man Will Do
Like the First Time
Someone to Love Me
Somebody’s Knocking at My Door
I Know Who Holds Tomorrow
Trouble Don’t Last Always
You and No Other
ANTHOLOGIES
Rosie’s Curl and Weave
Della’s House of Style
Going to the Chapel
Welcome to Leo’s
Gettin’ Merry
IRRESISTIBLE
YOU
FRANCIS RAY
St. Martin’s Paperbacks
NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
IRRESISTIBLE YOU
Copyright © 2007 by Francis Ray
Excerpt from Only You copyright © 2007 by Francis Ray.
Cover photo © Tamika Quillard
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
ISBN: 0-312-93974-4
EAN: 978-0-312-93974-8
Printed in the United States of America
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / March 2007
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To my wonderful daughter,
Carolyn Michelle Ray,
who is never too busy to listen, to encourage me,
or to say I love you. You mean the world to me.
THE GRAYSONS OF NEW MEXICO—THE FALCONS OF TEXAS
Cousins by marriage—friends by choice
Bold men and women who risk it all for love
CHAPTER ONE
PIERCE GRAYSON WAS A MARKED MAN.
That chilling certainty was never far from Pierce’s mind. It sat like a millstone around his neck. As hard as he tried to push the thought to the back of his mind, it always managed to pop back up, usually at the most inopportune time, as it did now as he strode down the crowded concourse of Albuquerque International Sunport, deftly dodging rolling luggage and people hurrying to catch their flights.
Pierce moved aside for a group of stewardesses and unhappily recalled the exact moment his time had run out. He’d been sound asleep after a very pleasurable evening with a beautiful young woman when he’d been awakened by the phone on his nightstand. He’d opened one eye long enough to read the red dial on the black lacquer clock. Seven thirteen. Closing his eye, he’d groped for the phone and mumbled, “Hello.”
“Why aren’t you up?”
Recognizing his older brother’s voice, Pierce came fully awake and sprang up in bed. Brandon was notorious for not being a morning person; if by chance he had to get up, he was a grouch. “Are you all right?”
“Faith and I are getting married,” Brandon said, his voice filled with unabashed pride and a giddiness that Pierce had never heard before, not even when Brandon had fulfilled his lifelong dream and opened his restaurant, the Red Cactus.
Now, months later, those six condemning words remained startlingly clear. Pierce’s reaction then and now as he moved aside for a two-seater baby carriage was a mixture of happiness for his brother and horror for himself. Pierce’s carefree, happy existence was forever changed.
He was next on his mother’s infamous hit list to get married.
Thus far she was three for three. His older brothers had fallen like bowling pins. As Pierce was the next son on the list, his mother would now turn her attention to her fourth child.
A delicate shudder rippled down Pierce’s spine as he stopped just beyond the security point for deplaning passengers. Those waiting with him would have never guessed he wrestled with a problem. They saw a tall, strikingly handsome man with golden-bronzed skin in a tailored gray pin-striped suit. Thick black hair was secured at the base of his well-shaped skull with a two-inch band of hammered silver. Midnight black eyes were trained on the corridor from which passengers would enter the main terminal.
People around him saw what Pierce wanted them to see: a successful man without a care in the world.
As Pierce was the owner of his own multimillion-dollar investment firm, nerves of steel and a poker face were essential, particularly in the recent erratic economy. He’d weathered the fickleness of the stock market and had the faith to build one of the most lucrative investment firms in New Mexico.
Only once, early on in his career, had he made a mistake by trusting the wrong person. The incident had cost him and his investors close to a quarter of a million dollars. Just the thought made his stomach roll.
Paying his clients back every penny from his own funds had been a matter of principle and pride. There was no way he would have disgraced himself or the Grayson name. His family was respected in Santa Fe and around the country. It was unthinkable that he would bring even a hint of discredit to them. The incident had come close to wiping him out financially, but it had taught him a valuable lesson: in finances and life—it if sounded too good to be true, it probably was.
His willingness to accept the blame had earned him the respect of his duped clients and their continued loyalty. They’d stayed with him and sent him their friends and business associates. No thanks to the thief, Pierce had been able to turn a catastrophe into an asset and pull himself from the brink of disaster.
He could do so again. This time from his mother’s matchmaking scheme.
He loved his mother, but he had no intention of blithely following in his three older brothers’ footsteps and getting married. The way Pierce saw it, it wouldn’t be fair to the woman. He enjoyed female companionship. Always had and always would. He also liked variety. He couldn’t fathom being satisfied and happy with one woman for a lifetime. It just wasn’t in his nature to commit to longer than a couple of months.
He liked change and tended to be bored eas
ily. He enjoyed the challenge, the thrill, of the chase. The sweet pleasure of surrender. Although his three older brothers assured him it was possible to be happy with one woman, Pierce knew he’d go crazy looking across the breakfast table at the same woman day after day, year after year.
His mother was in for a surprise, Pierce thought as he watched deplaning passengers, some hurrying, others leisurely strolling toward the security checkpoint. He’d admit he had spent more than one sleepless night when Brandon bit the dust and fell in love. But after careful thought, and Pierce prided himself on thinking things through, he’d come to the conclusion that his carefree lifestyle would serve him well.
Giving up women as Brandon had wasn’t an option. What Pierce could and would do was continue as usual. The more women he saw, the better.
A smile lifted the corner of his sensual mouth. He’d even dated a couple of women he knew his mother had placed in his path. He’d made sure the women had enjoyed themselves, but nothing had come of it. His mother might have met her match in him.
Pierce straightened as the people surrounding him moved closer to the security checkpoint. A quick glance at his thin gold Piaget wristwatch confirmed that Sabra Raineau’s flight had just landed.
His mother had shown him Sabra’s bio with her picture when she asked him to pick up the Tony-winning Broadway star at the airport. The five-by-seven glossy black-and-white photo was sensually beautiful and packed a wallop. Her long black hair fell around her bare shoulders as she looked directly at the camera as if daring it to find a flaw. Pierce, who considered himself somewhat of a connoisseur of women, hadn’t seen any flaws in the delicately shaped oval face, the razor-sharp cheekbones, the doe-shaped eyes, and the lips with just a hint of a pout.
How much was natural and not retouch he’d know in a bit. His mother had seen the actress the first time she’d appeared on Broadway in a small but pivotal part and had followed her career ever since. He just hoped his mother would still be happy when Sabra returned to New York four weeks from now.
Pierce wasn’t a stranger to the mercurial, often temperamental women in the entertainment industry. Unfortunately, often the more talented and popular, the more difficult they were to work with. Perhaps Sabra wasn’t as self-important as many of the successful entertainers he’d met and dated. He’d have to give the actress points for not asking for a driver and all sorts of perks to come to Santa Fe and help his mother put on a play with some of her music students.
When his mother, who was on the board of the Santa Fe Council for the Arts, invited the once-renowned sculptor Andre Duval, the obnoxious man had had a list of demands a mile long. The only good thing about his visit was that it had brought Pierce’s next-to-the-oldest brother, Morgan, his wife, Phoenix.
The thought made Pierce’s eyebrows draw together. His mother had been instrumental in bringing Duval to Santa Fe, but her main purpose had been to bring Phoenix there to meet Morgan.
Could it be—? Pierce shook his head before the thought formed. One thing he was sure of: his mother wanted all her children close by. And although many of the top names in the theater came to Santa Fe to perform, Broadway was the Holy Grail. His mother wasn’t playing matchmaker this time. He was sure of it.
He started to relax; then everything within him went still. Air stalled in his lungs. The noise around him faded to a dull hum as he stared at the most sensually beautiful woman he had ever seen. She moved toward him with an innate grace that made him think of a lazy cat. Thick curly black hair framed her heart-stopping face and flowed over her slim shoulders. Men, at least five, flanked her. One carried a designer overnight case, one a train case with the same label.
Pierce recognized her instantly as Sabra Raineau and acknowledged something else—the photograph had been a fraud. It hadn’t done her justice.
At least five feet seven, she was elegantly shaped, with flawless café au lait skin. A simple white blouse that had probably cost a fortune was tucked into black jeans that encased her long, shapely legs. A crystal-encrusted western black leather belt with a silver buckle cinched her narrow waist. Large silver hoops brushed against high cheekbones with each step of her eel-skin boots. People often dressed in western attire when they visited Santa Fe, but Pierce knew instinctively that Sabra dressed for comfort and in what suited her.
When she would have walked past him, he moved into her path. “Ms. Raineau.”
She stopped. He saw her delicate brows arch over the wide lenses of her Dior sunshades. The men with her sent Pierce murderous looks. Pierce almost smiled. It was his turn now.
He extended his hand. “Pierce Grayson. My mother, Mrs. Ruth Grayson, sent me to pick you up.”
The warm smile started at the corners of Sabra’s sensual raspberry mouth. One slim hand lifted to settle her shades on top of a head of lustrous black hair. Pierce barely kept his jaw from dropping. He stared into her level, unflinching gaze as he looked his fill. She didn’t fidget; she simply waited for his brain to clear. He realized she fully understood the effect she had on men. He absorbed the full impact and counted it as a blessing that she wasn’t the one his mother had placed in his path.
He wouldn’t have lasted five minutes. And then Sierra, his baby sister, would have his hide, but it might just be worth the fall.
“Hello, Pierce, and thank you.” Sabra’s voice was an alluring blend of warm southern grace and jasmine-scented nights. Her hand had barely settled in his before she withdrew it and turned to the men beside her to introduce them and finished by saying, “Thank you again for making my trip so enjoyable. Good-bye, and thanks again.”
She reached to retrieve her luggage from the two men. Pierce was faster. “Thank you,” he said to the men, who looked bereft; then he faced Sabra. He liked just looking at her. “This way to the baggage terminal.”
“First, I need to make sure Isabella is all right.”
“Isabella?”
“My dog. She’s not a good flier,” Sabra said with a half smile. “I started to catch a ride with Cline in his jet, but he and Isabella don’t get along too well.”
Pierce wondered what the secret smile on Sabra’s tempting lips meant. “We’ll check on your dog, then get your luggage.”
Sticking one piece beneath his arm and taking the other in his left hand, he curled his fingers around her elbow as she stepped on the down escalator. Warmth spread from his fingertips. For a crazy moment he wished he could keep on holding her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, raising her arm to replace her sunglasses. With the overhead skylights causing the airport to be almost glaringly bright, she probably needed her sunglasses—or she might have been evading his touch.
In the baggage claim area Pierce heard a loud annoyed bark before he saw Isabella. Sabra rushed the last few steps. Dropping gracefully to her knees, she opened the cage door. Pierce stared as a large dog rushed out, toppling Sabra. He and the baggage claim attendant both rushed to her side, only to pull up when they heard Sabra’s happy laughter.
“I see you missed me.” Coming to her knees, she put one arm around the German shepherd. The animal had to weigh close to eighty pounds. “I hope she wasn’t any trouble,” Sabra said to the attendant.
With his mouth open, wearing a stunned look, the man stared at her. Pierce couldn’t blame the man’s reaction. It would take a eunuch not to react when the full force of all that beauty and sensuality was focused on him.
“No. No. She wasn’t any trouble at all,” the man finally got out.
“Thank you.” Sabra palmed the dog’s long face. “You have to go back inside for just a bit, and then we’re going with Pierce to the house.”
The dog looked over Sabra’s shoulder and showed Pierce a set of sharp teeth. “Impressive,” Pierce said as he hunkered down beside Sabra. “Smart dog.”
Isabella sat on her hindquarters and looked at Pierce with intelligent brown eyes. Sabra looked from one to the other. “She likes you,” she said, surprise in her voice.
“
I’m a likable person.” Pierce rubbed the dog behind her ears. “You’re a beauty. I wonder what Hero would think of you.”
“Hero?”
“My sister-in-law’s hybrid mixture of a wolf and a dog.”
“Male?”
He grinned. “Yes.”
Sabra came gracefully to her feet. “We aren’t likely to find out. In you go, Isabella.” The dog dutifully obeyed. Sabra closed the cage. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“If you want to stay with Isabella, I’ll get the luggage and return,” he offered.
“It’s labeled, but it will be faster if I point it out and help.”
She definitely wasn’t the temperamental type. “This way.” He took her arm again to be courteous but also to see if he felt the slight punch again. He did. Only this time he had to fight the urge to lean closer.
Sabra was as tempting as he had thought on first seeing her. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to get to know her better or run in the other direction as fast as he could.
Walking to the baggage carousel, he couldn’t help but notice the stares that followed them. He looked at Sabra to gauge her reaction, but she had on her shades again. “Do the stares bother you?”
“This face helped me get where I am today,” she said easily. A large piece of Gucci luggage came down the conveyer. As it passed, Sabra reached for it. Again, Pierce was faster. “You’re supposed to point.”
“How about you?” she asked, ignoring his statement as they stepped back to wait.
“Me?” He turned to her.
Folding her arms, she tilted her head to one side and openly studied him. “You really aren’t aware that women are scoping you out?”