Deeper [The Underground 3] (Siren Publishing Allure)

The Underground 3

Deeper

When Stella Vincent's father gambles away her childhood home, it is up to her to get it back, but when she finally meets the man who holds the deed, she realizes just how dangerous he really is. He is tall, dark, and gorgeous, and so very bad for her.

Tate Wessen knows he is dangerous, and he counts on others realizing the same thing in order for him get what he wants. Running an illegal underground fight club isn't the worst he has ever done.

When Stella walks into his office the attraction is instant. She'll do anything to get her father's house back, and he knows that he can use this to his advantage. What he offers her is very simple. She must submit her body to him for the next two weeks. After that her father's debt is absolved.

The only problem is he finds himself falling hard for the woman who was only supposed to warm his bed.

Genre:
Contemporary

Length:
49,027 words
 

The Underground 3

Jenika Snow

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

DEEPER

E-book ISBN:
978-1-62242-999-8

First E-book Publication: May 2013

Cover design by Harris Channing

All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

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Deeper
by Jenika Snow from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

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It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Snow’s right to earn a living from her work.

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This is dedicated to everyone who gave me their encouragement and support. You have no idea how much it means to me to know you're in my corner.

DEEPER

The Underground 3

JENIKA SNOW

Copyright © 2013

When Stella prayed for a way out of her blind date, she wasn’t talking about picking up her drunk father, once again. The drive to the Horseshoe, the new casino that just opened up off of Sunset and Broadview, was slow going given the fact it was a Saturday night and prime time for the partiers to be out.

When she pulled up to the curb, a line of people wrapped around the building. The casino had only been open for a few months, but every day she drove by there was always a line. There was no disputing the fact that the casino increased the revenue in their town, but there was a part of her that loathed the idea of it being built just three blocks from her apartment building. It also didn’t help her disposition that her once-recovering addict of a father had fallen off…or gotten on the wagon, whatever the hell the saying was, and could be found at either the casino or the twenty-four-hour bar.

It didn’t take long for her to spot her father, seeing as he was sandwiched between two burly-looking men in suit jackets and white tees underneath. The men had a hand under each of her dad’s arms, whether it was to support his drunken ass or keep him from running off was still left to be decided, but Stella knew it was probably a little bit of both.

The burly guys saw her get out of her car and made their way toward her, her father in tow. Each time she had to pick up Henry Vincent it was always the same scene. Her father had been a great man at one time, a celebrated contractor that built many of the homes in their town, but when her mother died of breast cancer when she was twelve that was when Henry Vincent’s life went down the drain to addiction. Now, ten years later, Stella was still making sure he was home and in bed, just to wake up the next morning to start the whole vicious cycle again. Oh, he had tried rehab, had even been sober for a year, but there was always something that life threw at him that would make him pick up the bottle.

It didn’t matter what Stella told him. She had learned that early on, because when Henry wanted something there wasn’t anything or anyone that could stop him. His years building houses had made him a big man, and that and all of his pent-up emotions from her mother passing made him a scary man at times. There was never any abuse, but she had walked in on enough of his bar fights to know how that aggression could become flying fists at the drop of a hat.

The men brought her father right up to the passenger door and she opened it while they folded him in. He groaned and grunted and the smell of liquor that came from him was so strong she feared she might get drunk just from being in the same vehicle with him.

“Um, thanks.” It was always awkward talking to the men that had to drag her father to her car. She shut the door and started rounding the front bumper when one of the men’s deep voices stopped her.

“Mr. Wessen would like a word with you, Miss Vincent.” They came closer to her and she wondered if they would take her to him by force. They certainly were big enough to.

“Okay, but can I maybe come back tomorrow? I can’t just leave my father in the car passed out.”

“Not to worry, ma’am.” The one with a bald head and dark trimmed goatee took a step toward the passenger door. “While you are speaking with Mr. Wessen I have been instructed to wait here. I’ll keep an eye on your father and belongings.”

A glance at her father showed he was blissfully unaware of the trouble she was no doubt in because of him. She could only imagine what the owner of the majority of the properties in their town wanted to speak to her about. “Okay.” She was led through the main doors of the casino and instantly the sound of slot machines and bells ringing surrounded her. The vestibule was gorgeous with white marble and an impressive crystal chandelier hanging from the cathedral-style ceiling. If she was being honest, the casino looked a little out of place in their small town, but since opening it had become an instant attraction.

The main part of the casino was straight ahead, but she was led to the left, down a long hallway with bright red carpet with a gold ivy pattern inlaid through it. The walls were a muted cream, but the bland color didn’t take away from the fact that it was clearly expensively decorated. Double doors stood to her right, the wood dark and glossy. Her escort rapped on the door twice before a deep voice called for them to enter from the other side. She expected him to walk in first, but he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. For some reason the hair on her arms stood up and her heart pounded hard. There were a lot of reasons why she was nervous, but the main reason was sitting behind a chrome and glass desk looking at her like he could see every one of her secrets.

He crooked his finger for her to enter further. The door shut firmly behind her and it was like the air in the room shot up ten degrees. Palms sweaty and mouth gone dry, Stella sat in the chair in front of his desk. He held a phone to his ear and she tried not to take note of his presence, but there was no denying that trying to ignore anything about Tate Wessen was a lost cause.

“I am not going to argue this, McIntyre. You will fix those numbers and redistribute or I will take my business elsewhere.” A beat of silence passed and then he said in a deadly calm voice, “Just make it happen.” When he hung up the phone he stared at her for a suspended moment. The tension started to escalate and Stella found herself shifting in her seat.

He steepled his fingers in front of her, his amber-colored eyes watching her intently. Was she supposed to say something? If he expected that he was going to be waiting for like…ever.

“Miss Vincent, thank you for speaking with me on such short notice.” When he leaned back in his seat the leather creaked from his weight. Like she really had a choice in the matter. She wisely kept that to herself, though. “Do you know why I asked to speak with you this evening?” The way he watched her made her feel naked despite the cotton skirt and white blouse she wore. She ran her palms over her thighs, thankful the black material would hide the sweat that was rapidly forming on her palms.

“I’m sure it has something to do with my father.” She wanted to say she would kill her dad for putting her in this situation, but the truth was Henry Vincent was a shell of a man now. There was nothing that she could say or do that would make him the dad she remembered from her childhood. She had tried, desperately.

He started loosening his tie until he could undo the first few buttons of his crisp gray shirt. His black tie hung lopsided and she couldn’t help but smile at the sight. The man in front of her was always in control. But seeing his attire slightly disheveled made him seem more…human and less invincible.

“I’m afraid it does have to do with your father.” He pushed away from his desk and stood. “Would you like something to drink, Miss Vincent?” She followed his movements to the bar on the far side of the wall.

“No thank you, Mr. Wessen.”