Son of a Preacher Man (27 page)

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Leap of Faith:

“Would you slow down? I’m going to fall if you keep pushing me like that.”

“Then move faster.”

She practically ran through the shoe department to a door marked
Employees Only
.

“We can’t go in here. It says employees only.”

“So arrest me. We need to get out of here without our buddies in the Caddy seeing us. It won’t be long before they get sick of waiting and come into the store, if they haven’t already.”

Lex led her to a garage door that was partially open. Gas fumes and cigarette smoke lingered in the air.

“Wait here while I make sure they don’t have someone covering the back door. If you hear shots, run like hell and scream your head off. They won’t try anything with this many witnesses.”

Gunshots? Again?

Dropping his pile of purchases, Lex pressed her behind a forklift and slipped out the door. A shiver danced down her spine and she clutched the packages closer to her chest.

What on earth was happening to her?

Her heart raced and sweat dripped down her face as she imagined a million catastrophes. What if he left her here? What if he got shot? Worse, what if she got shot? What if right this very second someone was coming to get her?

A whimper tried to claw its way out of her throat but she bit it back. How long had he been gone? She strained her ears to pick up any little noise but all she heard was the rushing of traffic in the distance.

Her knees almost buckled when a car pulled up to the docking bay. Lex burst out of the front seat and charged toward her.

“Move it, Janey. I knocked one of the guys out but he could come to any second. The other one is in the store right now.”

Her head still spinning from fear, Jane ran as fast as she could in flip-flops over the dew-covered pavement. Lex had already thrown his bundles in the back seat and motioned for her to hurry up.

“C’mon! Get in.”

A pebble jabbed the arch of her foot through the thin rubber but she ignored it as she practically fell into the front seat of the huge car.

She wasn’t even buckled when Lex put the car in gear and crept out of the driveway.

“Keep down.” He pushed her head next to his thigh, crushing the bags she still held to her chest.

“Are they after us?”

“Not yet. When we didn’t come out the front door, the big guy went into the store. I waited until he was in before I got you. If luck is on our side for once he won’t find his missing partner right away and that’ll buy us some time.”

“So can I sit up?”

“Not yet. They’ll be looking for a blonde so I want to keep your head out of sight as long as possible.”

“This is vastly uncomfortable.” The seatbelt cut into her stomach and her face was pressed just inches from his jean-clad leg. She could smell the musky odor of sweat and man and it did strange things to her insides.

“Not as uncomfortable as a bullet in the head.”

Good point. She wiggled around to try to find a better position. Her face brushed against his thigh and he let out a groan.

“Could you please keep still?”

“I’m sorry. I’m doing the best I can. I’ve never had to lie across the front seat of a car before.”

“What a shock.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She tried to lift her head up to get a better look at him but he pushed her head back down.

“Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”

He was laughing at her. She could hear it in his voice. “Just because I don’t run from gun-wielding lunatics on a regular basis is no reason to make fun of me, you brute. I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances.”

“I’m not making fun of you. Really.”

“It sure sounds like you are.”

A gust of air ruffled her hair as he sighed. “When you were a teenager, did you fool around in your boyfriend’s car?”

“Of course not!” Her mother would have killed her. Ladies didn’t “fool around” at all, but most especially not in a car. Not that Jane wouldn’t have been willing to try it at least once if she’d had the opportunity. Unfortunately, her dates in high school were limited to chaperoned events orchestrated by her mother.

“I didn’t think so.”

“What does my youthful experience,” or lack thereof, “have to do with being squashed against the seat?”

“Lady, you don’t want to go there. Trust me.”

“Right. Like I’d trust you about anything.”

“Whaddya mean by that crack?”

“You have to admit, you’re not the most upstanding of citizens.”

“What’re you talking about? I was a freaking FBI agent!”

“You run away from the police, you carry a gun, and you have a penchant for, ah, playing the field.” Her face flamed in embarrassment, but she didn’t back down. If he was going to mock her for her lack of experience, she could comment on his plethora of it.

“My what?”

“The revolving door on your bedroom.”

“You’re crazy. I’m not a player.”

“Oh pul-lease. If you had any more women parading through your condo you’d have to install one of those ‘take a number’ machines like at the deli. You are most definitely a player.” Whatever that was.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve had relationships with all the women who’ve ‘paraded’ through my room. Jesus, it’s not even like there’s been that many. I’m not home enough to be a player.”

“It’s none of my business how you choose to live your life.” Oh Lord, could they please just drop this subject? She should have kept her mouth shut. This was only slightly humiliating.

“You’re right. It’s not.” He tapped his hand on his thigh.

Jane couldn’t help but stare at his long fingers just inches from her nose. He had a strong hand, very masculine with a smattering of dark hair sprinkled across the knuckles. It would look perfectly natural holding a beer can or a hammer. She couldn’t picture Lex drinking from a wine glass or using a delicate fish fork with those broad, callused hands.

An image of his fingers cupping her breasts, his darkness against her lightness, flashed through her brain, singeing every synapses along the way. He wouldn’t be a gentle lover. No, he’d be hard and demanding and probably very thorough.

Her breath hitched as her heart rate shot through the roof. Suddenly she felt far too warm. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and between her breasts.

“I am not a player.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Don’t try that reverse psychology crap on me. Just because I don’t live like a monk doesn’t mean I use women. They know the deal going in. I’m not around enough for a permanent relationship. That’s not what they’re looking for either. Just a mutually satisfying experience between consenting adults.”

“Of course.” Very satisfying, from what she could tell.

“Why am I explaining myself to you?”

“I have no idea.”

Lex swore softly and Jane hid a smile. The conversation was completely inappropriate, but he was no longer picking on her for not making out in a car as a teen. It was nice to actually win a battle with him for once.

Their love never died, but her secrets could break his trust beyond repair.

Texas Two Step

© 2012 Cynthia D’Alba

Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 1

After six years and too much self-recrimination, rancher Mitch Landry is ready to admit he was wrong. He’d loved Olivia Montgomery but commitment wasn’t high on his list back then. That was his first mistake. He’s just divorced his second, and he’s set to do whatever it takes to convince Olivia to give him another try.

Through hard work, determination and more than a few tears, Olivia survived the break-up with Mitch. She’s rebuilt her life around her business and the son she loves more than life itself. She’s not proud of the mistakes she’s made—particularly the secrets she’s kept—but when life hands you manure, you use it to make something better of yourself…lest you get stuck in it.

At a hot, muggy Dallas wedding, they reconnect. Olivia’s first instinct is to play it cool, but after one devastating kiss things flare real out of control, real fast. Maybe a quick roll in the hay will get him out of her system once and for all. Funny thing about hay though, once it’s tangled in your hair, getting it out risks revealing things that were never meant to see the light of day.
 

Warning: Contains hot sex, a vindictive ex-wife and hot chocolate-chip cookies.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Texas Two Step:

He kissed her and the world stopped revolving. She swayed into him. Ran her fingers into his thick, wavy hair. Stroked his tongue with hers. Tasted the champagne inside of his mouth. Sucked gently on his tongue. Soaked him up like an arid desert in an unexpected rainstorm.

Olivia could have blamed the dim lights, or the romantic setting, or even Mitch’s raw animal magnetism for her response to his kiss. Instead, she admitted she wanted this night, this man, his touch, his kiss. All of her fantasies started this way.

Could reality be as good as her imagination?

What would it be like to be with him again? Make love with him again?

There was curiosity, but that wasn’t what was driving her response to his kiss. Desire ran rampant through her veins. A soul-deep lust consumed her.

Their love story was history, so she’d waste no time planning a future that would never come. She’d take what he offered, take what she wanted. Here and now, not a future. Tonight was all there was. She’d not walk away from his arms until she’d gotten what she needed.

Mitch’s mouth scorched her lips as he took her mouth with a rough passion that left no doubt of his intentions. He pulled the pins holding her chignon and threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her head in place as he plundered her mouth with his tongue.

Returning his kiss with a fervor matching his, she allowed the all-consuming yearning to fill her. The desire to touch him, be close to him, make love with him overwhelmed her.

She flattened her hands against his chest. His heat seared through the shirt’s material and burned into her flesh. She stroked hard muscles sculpted from years of physical labor. His nipples stiffened to her caress. The soft cotton of his shirt teased the nerve endings in her palms.

He leaned his huge body over her and cupped her breast in his work-roughened hand. He squeezed and flicked her now distended nipple.

Ripples of sexual longing echoed through her. She moaned into his mouth and, arching her back, pressed her breast firmly into his palm, wordlessly begging for more.

Mitch gave her what she wanted, fondling and stroking her breasts until she wanted to rip her clothes off. She groaned, burning with a frantic desperation to feel skin against skin.

Olivia slipped the buttons on his shirt through the holes with ease. She separated the shirt’s edges until she could feel the crinkle of his chest hair and the direct hot flesh of his chest beneath her hands.

The tantalizing scent of Mitch filled her nose. She’d probably smelled the same cologne on other men, but the cologne’s interaction with Mitch’s body chemistry produced a bouquet unlike any other on Earth. She lowered her head to his chest, first kissing then flicking her tongue on his turgid nipple before wrapping her lips around it. His skin was a dichotomy. Sweet and salty. Dangerous and comforting. Past and present.

There’d be no turning back for her now. She’d had a sample of her addiction, and she had to have more.

When she sucked his nipple between her lips, he groaned and slid his hand under the hem of her dress. Her abdominal muscles danced and jerked when his thick fingers touched her inner thigh.

He stroked fingers along the inside of her thigh, the silk of her stockings tickling and enflaming her flesh at the same time. “Your silk stockings drive me wild,” he said, nibbling along her chin. “Your skin was always silky and smooth. I love to touch you. I’ve always loved to touch you. I loved the way you moaned and twisted at my touch. The way your eyes would glaze over when I stroked you.” His hand moved higher, stopping at the top of the stocking. “But tonight, I want—no, need—to see you in these stockings. These stockings, my necklace and nothing else.” His voice was coarse and guttural and harsh.

Olivia quivered at his words. Emotional fires she’d suppressed since finding out she was pregnant with Adam flared. She’d believed them stomped out and dead. She’d been wrong. She was dry tinder to his lit match.

He stood, took her hand, pulled her to standing.

Her legs were weak and rubbery, threatening to collapse under his relentless assault.

Gazing intensely into her eyes, he said, “I want you. I want to be deep inside you. If you want to stop, say it now, because in a minute I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

He waited. Gave her time to say no. Gave her time for rationality to return.

But she didn’t want rational thoughts. Didn’t want to think about tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Didn’t want to let go of all the sensations surging through her.