by Anne, Melody
Abby had considered asking Lil to move out, hoping that some separation would give Lil the independence she said she wanted, but that was before she’d held her new niece in her arms. It wasn’t just about Lil anymore. Colby deserved a mother with a stable career and Lil was so close to having one. She was one semester away from finishing her administrative assistant courses. Even when Colby’s father had walked out at the news of his fatherhood, Lil hadn’t crumbled. For the first time since they’d received the news of the accident that had claimed the lives of both of their parents, Lil wasn't hiding from her responsibilities.
Colby had changed that, too.
It wasn’t Lil’s fault that she’d caught the flu. Half the city seemed to be either recovering from it or succumbing to it. More importantly, it had been a long time since Lil had actually requested help, rather than merely grudgingly accepting it. Abby didn’t want to put too much significance on such a miniscule connection, but she couldn’t shake the hope that things could get better between them.
Her first impression of him as he stood in the entrance, unaware of her existence, was that he looked more tired than a man of his age should. Dark circles were evident even against his olive complexion. His expensive suit did nothing to conceal the slump of his wide shoulders. According to Lil, he'd paid to have the brownstone cleaned on a weekly basis, but hadn't actually been there in over a decade. Something had brought him back and whatever it was, it had steamrolled right over him.
He looked up and through her as he crossed the foyer. “You can go now.”
She considered following his weary command, but something held her immobile.
“Are you deaf? I said you can leave. Finish whatever you're doing tomorrow.”
Mr. Armani sounded like an over-tired child, although she was fairly certain that he wouldn't appreciate the comparison. The wisest choice of action would have been to do as he said and leave before he had a chance to question her on her attire, but she couldn't.
He didn't look like someone who should be alone.
Was she simply projecting? Her friends often accused her of seeing good where there was none, but that was a hazard of her job. To be an effective middle school teacher, one had to see beyond the bravado. Abby taught English to non-native speakers, so she was often employed in the toughest schools in the city. She was used to defusing misdirected anger. Profanity was a cry for help. Harsh words often hid fear. Her patience paid off. Students returned, year after year, to thank her for believing in them. For some, she knew she’d been the only one who had. But this wasn’t her classroom and, in reality, she had no idea who this man was.
She could almost hear Lil’s voice telling her that some things were simply not her business and she’d be right. This man wouldn’t welcome her nurturing any more than her sister did, but that didn’t stop Abby’s heart from going out to him.
She put the sheets on a table on one side of the hallway and said, “There are fresh towels upstairs. Why don't you go take a shower and I'll get some basic groceries from the corner store for you.”
His back straightened and she caught her breath, reeling from the full impact of his attention. God, he’s beautiful. His dark gray eyes raked over her, flashing with irritation and then something else. He cut the distance between them in a few short strides. A hint of alcohol reached her as he stopped mere inches from her. She tipped her head back to look up at him.
“Did Jake send you?” He asked as he assessed her. “You don't look like a model.”
She blinked a few times in surprise as some of her sympathy for him faded. “And you don't smell like a man who should be wearing an Armani, but I wasn't going to mention it,” she answered in a huff.
Her words stirred something in him; his shoulders squared and his eyes narrowed. This was a man who was not accustomed to people speaking back to him, but if he was trying to intimidate her, his nearness was creating the entirely wrong reaction in her body. Even in his rumpled suit, or maybe because of it, he was the sexiest man she'd ever seen in person. Men like this existed only on the large screen or in novels. She wanted to reach up and run a hand over the rough stubble on his cheek.
“I didn't say you were unattractive,” he growled. “You're just not reed thin like the women I'm used to.”
That’s it. She put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows in a silent challenge.
Time suspended as their standoff continued. His look of annoyance was steeped with an expectation that she should try to appease him in some way. She simply met his glare with her own, giving him time to replay his choice of words in his mind. He looked away first, a slight flush reddening his neck
“Ok, that came out wrong.” He ran a frustrated hand through his thick black hair, leaving it slightly awry and sexier ...if that were even possible. He was already a twelve or thirteen on her one to ten scale, even after she deducted a few points for lack of social skills. A glint of fascination lit his dark eyes as something occurred to him. “Did you just tell me that I stink?”
There was nothing tired about the way he leaned down until their lips almost touched. The scent of him mixed with the dash of liquor and the combination was heady. He was all male, untamed and interested in more than her answer to his question. No man had ever looked at her with such intensity. His sexual energy demanded a response that her body seemed all too willing to deliver.
Abby fought down the urge to close the short distance between them. She’d lost too much to believe in anything that felt this good. She took a half a step back and raised a placating hand. “I wasn’t quite that harsh.”
The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Do you have any idea who I am?” he asked, somehow making the question sound more curious than pompous.
Perhaps his tragedy had brought him a bit of notoriety, but Abby wasn't one to watch much TV and, as usual, Lil had given her just the information she absolutely needed in a brief, stilted conversation that typified how strained their relationship had become.
“I'm hoping you're the man who owns this brownstone, otherwise I'm going to get in trouble for letting you in,” she said with some forced humor.
He didn't laugh. “You really don’t know, do you?” His question sounded oddly hopeful.
Abby shrugged, but the hairs on the back of her neck tingled. What kind of man was relieved to not be recognized?
A criminal.
Crap.
Nice clothes meant nothing. His suit might have become disheveled during a tussle with the actual owner of it. She shook her head at the thought. “You do own the place, don't you?”
At his lack of a response, she scanned the area for something to toss at him if she needed to dash for the door. The closest object was a large, brass lamp. If he made any fast moves…
All coherent thought fled when he smiled down at her while lightly running his hands up both of her arms. “Yes, I’m the owner.”
Her heart really shouldn't be pounding in her chest just because the man was preparing to restrain her if she attacked him with deadly, brass force. It wasn't like she'd never been near a man before, but even her prior intimate relationships had been cautious endeavors. No man had ever brought to mind the words carnal abandon like this one did. When he looked at her, no one and nothing else existed.
“Before you clock me, would you like to see my license?” he asked while his thumb traced the edge of her collar bone rhythmically. Hypnotically. “Would you?” he prompted in response to her silence.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly, unable to concentrate on anything beyond the way her body was responding to his touch. Her skin burned beneath his light caress. Her stomach quivered with an anticipation she had previously only read about. Yes, to whatever you’re asking.
Her state of arousal was not lost on the man towering above her and the answering pleasure in his eyes shook her out of her daze. She stepped back, away from his touch and gave herself a mental shake. This kind of passion had no place in the life she’d bu
ilt for herself. “I mean no. No, I believe you. You were right. I should go. I can finish everything tomorrow.”
His lids lowered slightly, making his expression unreadable.
“Do you know what I'm thinking?” he asked.
Unless he was also imagining the two of them naked, rolling around on the thick area rug in the living room, she was pretty much stumped. “No,” she croaked.
“I'm starving and I hate to eat alone. I'd be grateful if you joined me for a meal.”
That wouldn't be wise. There were at least a hundred, maybe a thousand, reasons why she should leave now before she made a fool out of herself. Yet, she was tempted.
It was more than the athletic span of his shoulders, more than the strong line of his jaw. She couldn’t even blame the sadness in his eyes, because the exhausted man of earlier had been replaced by a virile male who knew exactly how to get what he wanted – and right now he wanted her.
Every sensible cell in her body urged her to turn tail and run, but wasn’t that what she always did when life offered her something she considered too good to be true? She chose safety and certainty over less reliable dreams and desires.
Just this once she wanted to sample what she’d been missing. Just this once she wouldn’t run.
Well, not immediately, anyway.
She’d share a meal with the near god before her, enjoy the way he made her skin tingle with just a look, and leave before anything happened. He wouldn’t have to eat alone and she could have an hour or so of pretending any of this was real.
“Any problems with Chinese?” she asked as she mentally reviewed the local places she knew would deliver.
The question seemed to jolt him. “Chinese what?”
“Food?” she added helpfully.
“Oh,” he visibly relaxed, “takeout.”
“Yes, there is a good place right around the corner that I know delivers -- unless you’d like me to try to find something else.”
“No.” He shook his head at some private joke. “Sorry, for a minute there I forgot.” Hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels, still looking highly amused by his thoughts.
“Forgot what?” she couldn’t help but ask.
With unexpected tenderness, he slid one of her wayward curls behind her ear. “That you’re exactly what I need.” Before she could catch her breath, he stepped back and handed her far too much money, no matter what she ordered. “Order some food while I take a shower.” His knock ‘em dead sex appeal returned as he chuckled and sauntered away, tossing over his shoulder, “I’ve heard I need one.”
Abby fanned her red face with the bills as she watched him climb the stairs two at a time. Not quite shaking herself free of the mental image of Mr. Armani naked beneath the steamy spray of the shower, Abby went in search of her purse and cell phone.
A man that sexy is just trouble.
Luckily it was highly unlikely that she would ever see him again after today. They would share one quick meal and then she’d head back to Lil and reality.
Back to the quiet, predictable life she’d built for herself.
That thought held less appeal than usual.
Maid for the Billionaire is available as a free download at all major retailers.
Read an Excerpt from USA Today Best Selling author, Kathleen Brooks
Bluegrass State of Mind
A Bluegrass Series Novel
Kathleen Brooks
Prologue
Her bare feet pounded down the concrete stairs. Her panty hose were ripped from snagging the cold metal strips on the edge of each stair. Her feet stung with every step she took. She heard the door above her open. She pushed herself faster. She couldn’t let him catch her.
She jumped the last stair on the sixth floor, the impact of the jump reverberating up her body. She felt as though she had stopped breathing two floors ago. Her lungs burned as she forced her legs to move faster. Her hand was sliding along the railing to brace herself as she raced down the stairs at breakneck speed.
She heard him yell her name. She turned around to see he was now just one floor away. The look cost her dearly as she missed a step and had to slow down to steady herself.
Her heart beat in turn with each slap of her foot. Faster. Louder. She just had to make it to the garage. He would kill her if she didn’t. He called her name again as if she were a disobedient child. He was taunting her, triggering her fear. Her heart felt as if it would explode as she ran faster and faster down the stairs.
She didn’t feel the cuts causing her feet to bleed. She didn’t feel the pain running up her legs. All she knew was she had a couple more flights to go. She tried to suck in a breath of air but could only manage a small gasp. He was closer now. She could feel him right behind her.
The door to the garage was so close. She could see it now. She had to reach it. He closed in on her. She could hear him breathing. She willed her legs to move faster. He reached out his arm to grab her….
Chapter One
McKenna looked around and saw nothing but black, four-plank fences and green grass for as far as she could see. Daffodils were playing peek-a-boo with the bright morning sun. She looked down at the GPS in her cherry red BMW M6. Only five more miles until her destination. Bringing her eyes back up to the narrow country road, Kenna gasped and hit her brakes as hard as she could.
The stabilization in her car kicked in and kept it from fishtailing off the road. She fought for control of the car as her brakes locked. A massive horse was standing in the middle of the road, calmly watching her scrambling for control over her car. She rested her head against the steering wheel and let out a shaky breath when she stopped the car in the opposite lane. Hearing tires squealing, she lifted her head and saw an old pick-up truck heading straight for her, fishtailing out of control. Kenna shifted into reverse and floored it. The truck skidded by her, narrowly missing her car. The truck came to a sudden stop in the grass ditch off the side of the road.
Kenna watched a jeans-clad woman wearing a stylish, black, long-sleeve shirt and bright pink scarf belt jump out of the truck. The woman with beautiful, shiny, shoulder-length brown hair was the polar opposite of what McKenna expected to see. Instead of being concerned about her truck, the woman slowly approached the horse with her hand out. Kenna saw her mouth moving as she talked to him. Ever so slowly, she placed her hand on his head and gave him a smile. Sliding her hand down, she grasped the halter and scratched his nose.
Kenna opened her door and got out on shaky legs. She could hear the woman talking on the cell phone as she walked toward the scene. “Yeah, Bets, I'm out here on Route 178, and it looks like one of your stallions is loose. Another woman and I almost hit him. Yes, we’re okay. No, I have him now. You better have one of the boys bring a trailer. Okay. Bye.”
“Hi. Are you okay?” Kenna asked after the woman put away the cell phone.
“Yes. Thanks. Looks like you made it out okay. I’m Paige Davies. Do you mind helping me for a sec?”
“McKenna Mason. What do you need?”
“Here, hold this.” Paige walked the massive stallion over to her and indicated where she was to hold him. “I need to see if my truck is able to run or if I need to call a tow. Thanks!”
Kenna took a hold of the halter and stared at the horse. She hadn’t been around a horse in decades. She held on for dear life, even though the horse seemed content to just stand off to the side of the road and watch the world go by.
Paige’s truck roared to life. She drove it out of the ditch and parked next to Kenna’s M6. What a sight: a brand new M6 next to a rusted, blue, Chevy pickup that had to be fifteen years old. Paige gracefully jumped down from the cab and walked over to her.
“Thanks. Now we have room for the little guy to be picked up. I wonder how he got out?”
“I'm just glad we didn’t hit him.”
“This is part of the Ashton Farm, and unfortunately they've been having a lot of problems recently.”
“Ashton, as in Will As
hton?” Kenna couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t even pulled into town and she had just found the person she was looking for.
“Yes. The family owns and runs it. You know Will?”
“I used to. I haven’t seen him in seventeen years.”
“Are you here to visit them?”
“No, I'm here to interview with Tom Burns for the assistant district attorney job.”
“That’s great.” Paige was so excited for her that Kenna couldn’t help but smile. She stepped forward and scratched the forehead of the large horse.
“Actually, I'm glad I ran into someone from the town. Can you tell me a good place to stay? I couldn’t find any hotels online.”
“That’s because there aren’t any. You’ll want to go see Miss Lily Rae Rose. She has a bed and breakfast. Just continue straight and make a left at the first stop light you come to. She’s in the big white Victorian. And, if you’re looking for a good place to eat, Miss Lily has two sisters, Miss Daisy Mae Rose and Miss Violet Fae Rose, who run the Blossom Cafe. Great place to eat some chocolate after a close call like this!” Paige laughed and Kenna couldn’t help but like her. This was a woman after her own heart!
“Thanks a lot. I'm guessing you're from Keeneston. What do you do there?”
"I have a store on Main Street named Southern Charms. I have all local made products. Everything from statues, paintings, jewelry, clothes, painted wine glasses, to cookbooks.”
“Sounds amazing. I'll have to stop by.”
“We should have lunch together. I can be the official welcoming party!” They both turned to the sounds of a diesel engine and saw a massive truck with a horse trailer come around the corner from the direction Paige had come. “Ah, good. Now we can get this boy home.”