Wet and Ready
by Cherise St. Claire
DeMarco Diamond is a sexy, handsome, and oh so rich businessman with a dark, murderous past. He’s reluctantly agreed to look after a good friend’s niece.
Reese Worthington is a criminal running from the law and the unlawful. She's found a safe haven with DeMarco. Or so she thinks.
Neither Reese nor DeMarco have the heart for love. But the heat between them is impossible to ignore.
This 6,300-word story is the first in The DeMarco Diamond series.
EXCERPT:
Nervously, she blinked at him but held his gaze. What a shame to hide those hazel beauties behind overly long bangs.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
DeMarco wasn’t in the habit of repeating himself and even a fine female like Reese Worthington wasn’t going to make him change his ways.
He waited.
She cleared her throat. “I’m twenty-five.”
Twenty-five? Surely a woman of that age had more style savvy than she’s demonstrating.
“Reese. May I call you Reese?” She nodded. “Is there a reason you’d stand two feet behind me instead of in front of me?” DeMarco watched as the muscles in her thin neck strained. She licked her lips and DeMarco felt his groin stir. Was she tempting him on purpose?
“Well?” he growled when she’d refused to answer.
She jumped at the sound of his voice. DeMarco had to remind himself to use his softer side when he wasn’t in the boardroom. In the boardroom, where he ran the eighteen companies of his business empire, he refused to edit himself, despite the few women who sat on his executive committee. Want to run with the big boys, then you’ve got to learn how to go the distance without crying about the bumpy terrain along the way. DeMarco had learned that it wasn’t the women on his board that had turned out to be the biggest pussies.
Finally, Reese found her voice. “I’m not comfortable around water, Mr. Diamond.”
At first, DeMarco thought perhaps he’d misunderstood. He looked at his Olympic-size pool with his initials handcrafted into the bottom. Then his eyes scanned the entirety of his property. As beautiful as his back lawn was—with the flower gardens, the guest quarters, the Hudson River out in the distance, the private wood—the pool area was certainly the most striking in his mind. He’d had Casa Diamond custom built two years ago and he was proud of it even though he was rarely here. He preferred his penthouse in New York or the Malibu beach house. Even when he was here, he never sat and lounged by the pool. DeMarco smiled ruefully. Lester Mint was probably calling New York’s best psychiatrists right about now to ask if his boss had gone nuts. DeMarco was perfectly sane. But something was troubling him and he’d decided to take time to meditate on his little problem. His eyes found the still waters again. Never would he have imagined that this pool, which sparkled like jewels, would be a source of consternation.
“You don’t know how to swim?” he asked.
She shook her head. “But enough about me. What can I do for you, Mr. Diamond?”
Oh baby. There’s no limit as to what you can do for me.
Reese Worthington is a criminal running from the law and the unlawful. She's found a safe haven with DeMarco. Or so she thinks.
Neither Reese nor DeMarco have the heart for love. But the heat between them is impossible to ignore.
This 6,300-word story is the first in The DeMarco Diamond series.
EXCERPT:
Nervously, she blinked at him but held his gaze. What a shame to hide those hazel beauties behind overly long bangs.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
DeMarco wasn’t in the habit of repeating himself and even a fine female like Reese Worthington wasn’t going to make him change his ways.
He waited.
She cleared her throat. “I’m twenty-five.”
Twenty-five? Surely a woman of that age had more style savvy than she’s demonstrating.
“Reese. May I call you Reese?” She nodded. “Is there a reason you’d stand two feet behind me instead of in front of me?” DeMarco watched as the muscles in her thin neck strained. She licked her lips and DeMarco felt his groin stir. Was she tempting him on purpose?
“Well?” he growled when she’d refused to answer.
She jumped at the sound of his voice. DeMarco had to remind himself to use his softer side when he wasn’t in the boardroom. In the boardroom, where he ran the eighteen companies of his business empire, he refused to edit himself, despite the few women who sat on his executive committee. Want to run with the big boys, then you’ve got to learn how to go the distance without crying about the bumpy terrain along the way. DeMarco had learned that it wasn’t the women on his board that had turned out to be the biggest pussies.
Finally, Reese found her voice. “I’m not comfortable around water, Mr. Diamond.”
At first, DeMarco thought perhaps he’d misunderstood. He looked at his Olympic-size pool with his initials handcrafted into the bottom. Then his eyes scanned the entirety of his property. As beautiful as his back lawn was—with the flower gardens, the guest quarters, the Hudson River out in the distance, the private wood—the pool area was certainly the most striking in his mind. He’d had Casa Diamond custom built two years ago and he was proud of it even though he was rarely here. He preferred his penthouse in New York or the Malibu beach house. Even when he was here, he never sat and lounged by the pool. DeMarco smiled ruefully. Lester Mint was probably calling New York’s best psychiatrists right about now to ask if his boss had gone nuts. DeMarco was perfectly sane. But something was troubling him and he’d decided to take time to meditate on his little problem. His eyes found the still waters again. Never would he have imagined that this pool, which sparkled like jewels, would be a source of consternation.
“You don’t know how to swim?” he asked.
She shook her head. “But enough about me. What can I do for you, Mr. Diamond?”
Oh baby. There’s no limit as to what you can do for me.