Tame a Wild Stallion
Deborah Fletcher Mello
He likes to go fast…But when mogul Mark Stallion meets sharp-shooting mechanic Michelle "Mitch" Coleman the motorcycle-driving Texan discovers what it means to fall fast and hard leaving him in awe of Mitch's skills…and her beauty.She likes it slow…Mitch isn't interested in a pretty rich boy who plays games with women's hearts–no matter how well-built and fine he is. But the heat generated between Mark and Mitch is enough to create new opportunities for her heart to thaw. Soon some matchmaking and a little mystery show her how easy it could be to fall in love.
Booting up the computer on his desk,
Mark had more on his mind than
he cared to have
There was a pile of client portfolios on his desk screaming for his attention. Half his day had already been shot to hell haggling with his younger brother, and thoughts of that woman kept creeping into his mind. That woman. Mark’s body quivered at the thought of Michelle, the cool chill racing the length of his spine having become too familiar since the two had met.
Mark was finding it difficult to rationalize what was happening to him. Never before had any woman consumed his waking moments the way Michelle Coleman kept invading his mind. Especially not a woman he’d not even had an opportunity to take to dinner yet. For crying out loud, he thought to himself, shifting in his seat, the two had only met for five short minutes, the woman barely giving him a second look. He couldn’t begin to believe how love struck he was suddenly acting.
DEBORAH FLETCHER MELLO
is the author of eight romance novels. Her first novel, Take Me to Heart, earned her a 2004 Romance Slam Jam nomination for Best New Author. In 2005 she received Book of the Year and Favorite Heroine nominations for her novel The Right Side of Love. For Deborah, writing is akin to breathing, and she firmly believes that if she could not write she would cease to exist.
A true renaissance woman, Deborah’s many career paths have included working as a retail buyer and size model for a national women’s clothing chain; a finance manager for a well-known beverage organization; a sales manager for a candy company; a telecommunications administrator and corporate trainer for a hotel-owning company; an art gallery director for a world-renowned artist; and an administrative consultant for multiple organizations throughout the United States. Deborah is also a licensed real-estate broker and general building contractor.
Born and raised in Fairfield County, Connecticut, Deborah now calls North Carolina home.
Tame a Wild Stallion
Deborah Fletcher Mello
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
I so love what I do! I have been so blessed and I understand that it has been a generous and loving God who has lifted me up and enabled me to do this.
Thank you for taking this amazing journey with me. I know beyond any doubt that if it were not for you this experience would have been short-lived. Your words of encouragement and support continue to keep me writing, and motivate me to write well.
I have been living and breathing the Stallion men for months now and with each one, I am more in love with the idea of love! I so hope that you enjoy getting to know each one and that you fall in love with my Texas boys just like I have.
Until the next time, take care and God bless.
With much love,
Deborah Fletcher Mello
www.deborahmello.blogspot.com
For “Johnny”
Without your strength and support I would not have
been able to get through this. Thank you for your love.
Please know that you have my heart, now and always.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 1
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with this car,” Michelle Coleman intoned, attitude edging her voice as she eyed the man before her. “You keep trying to find something wrong and for the umpteenth time, there’s nothing wrong with your car.”
Her well-dressed client rolled his eyes, pursing his lips as if his face hurt, the muscles contorting in response. “Mitch, I drive this car every day. I should know when it doesn’t feel right,” the man responded, calling her by the nickname she’d gone by since she’d been a child.
“Look, Doc, I do the maintenance on this car regularly. At least once a week I’ve got my head stuck under the hood because you’re sure something’s wrong and every time I tell you there is absolutely nothing wrong with your damn car.”
Dr. Marcus Shepherd bristled, exasperation fueling his words. “Just check it for me, Mitch. Please,” he implored.
Michelle swiped her hands on a dirty rag hanging from the rear pocket of her coveralls. She shook her head, strands of jet-black hair falling from the tight bun she’d twisted at the nape of her neck. Annoyance painted lines across her very pretty face. The three old men watching in amusement from the other side of the room couldn’t miss the beauty that peeked from behind the grease and grime she wore like bad makeup.
She heaved a deep sigh before finally speaking. “Uncle Simon, bill Dr. Shepherd for two hours of my time while I check his engine, please,” Michelle said, turning her attention to the elderly man who stood patiently behind the desk waiting to see how the exchange was going to play out.
Behind her, Dr. Shepherd nodded eagerly. “Thanks, Mitch, I really appreciate this,” the man said softly. “Do you really think it’s going to take two hours?”
Michelle shook her head from side to side. “No. I doubt that it’ll take me all of two minutes to find absolutely nothing wrong with your car, but since you want to waste my time you might as well pay me for it,” she said, moving in the direction of the garage bays.
Dr. Shepherd watched her, his gaze falling on the sway of her full hips as she glided toward the exit. Color suddenly rose to his cheeks as he twisted his fingers together nervously. “Maybe when you’re done, Mitch, you and I can go get something to eat or maybe we can catch a movie and then do some dinner?”
Michelle paused and did an about-face. She studied the man who stood eagerly in wait of an answer and then she laughed, her head shaking from side to side. “Uncle Simon, bill the doctor for three hours. It’s going to take me at least an hour to get over that stupid question.” Her head still waved like a loose ball bearing against her neck, as she turned to face the man, her hands clutching her ample hips. “Doc, I know you’ve fallen down and bumped your big head now. Is that why you keep bringing this car in here, hoping I’ll go out with you?”
The doctor shrugged, his shoulders pushing up toward the ceiling. “A man can hope, can’t he?”
Michelle rolled her eyes and moved back through the large doors that led from the office into the work area. She was still waving her head from side to side at the man’s audacity, chuckling loudly as she disappeared from sight.
Dr. Shepherd heaved a deep sigh, turning his attention back to the other men, who stood staring at him from the corner. Simon Coleman grinned as he extended his hand, the other mechanic pressing a ten-dollar bill into his palm. Every few weeks Michelle’s uncle made the same bet about one of the clients making a play for Michelle and getting shut down fast and hard. His bets had paid off handsomely, ten-dollar bills lining his pockets like gold. If there was any one thing the old man was certain of, it was that his niece could shut a man down faster and harder than any other woman he’d ever known.
Mark Stallion ran his hand across the handlebars of his brand-new Gold Wing, the touring motorcycle a combination of power, luxury and extreme sporting capability. His brother John stood with him, both admiring the classic lines of the Honda vehicle. John had to admit that the dark-blue metallic vehicle with its gleaming chrome accessories was truly a specimen of perfection, if you liked that sort of thing. Mark called it his private jet on two wheels, one of the many expensive big-boy toys he’d acquired over the past few years.
“You’re looking good, boy!” John exclaimed, admiring Mark’s black leather jacket and pants.
“I’m feeling good,” Mark answered, tightening the strap on his helmet. “As soon as I get the bike tuned up I’m out of here. I’m looking forward to being on the road for a while.” He shifted the bike’s weight off its kickstand and onto its wheels.
John nodded, understanding his sibling’s need to be away. The two had been manning the reins of Stallion Enterprises since forever, the large corporation boasting success with its shipping company, many real estate investments and assorted entertainment ventures. All of the Stallion men, brothers Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were committed heart and soul to the family business, rarely taking time out for some much needed rest and relaxation.
Where John’s conservative disposition rarely allowed him any time to play, he greatly admired his brother’s fortitude and free spirit. Mark hardly ever succumbed to tradition or directives. Of the Stallion siblings, Mark was the brother with a penchant for fast cars and even faster women, rarely slowing down, as if he were afraid he might miss something in his young life. With over two million miles of paved road across the United States, Mark was intent on satisfying his wander-lust every which way he could and his annual jaunt to the Carolina coast for the black bike festival was only one of those ways.
“Just be careful, and stay in touch,” John said, his arms crossing over his chest.
Mark nodded. “How can I forget? You stay on my back about that.”
“Just you remember that, too,” John said, smiling from ear to ear.
Mark shook his head, a wide grin filling his face. “Look at you! You’re gushing!” The man shuddered, pretending to shake his body vehemently. “You’re grinning like you’re still on your honeymoon, John. Don’t get too close to me. That mindset might be contagious.”
“You could stand to catch some of this. This is good for the soul.”
Mark rolled his eyes, swinging his leg over to straddle his bike. “I don’t want any part of that mess. There are too many beautiful women out here in need of attention. I’ve still got my work cut out for me and I do plan to work hard this weekend.”
John chuckled. “I’m sure some woman will slow you down soon enough. I use to say the same thing, remember? Then I met Marah. When that bug bites, it bites hard.”
“Sounds like something I need to get an inoculation for,” Mark said, laughing. He checked his equipment one last time and then started the engine.
John took a step back out of his way. “Stay in touch. Let us know where we can find you,” he said, brotherly concern wafting into his tone. “And keep yourself safe. You’re one of my best friends.”
“You already have two of them,” Mark said, referring to their two brothers.
John smiled. “Three’s a charm.”
Mark smiled back. “Always has been in my book as well.” He gave his brother a quick wink as he adjusted his helmet one last time. “I love you, bro!”
“I love you, too. Have some fun!” John chimed.
As Mark gunned the bike’s engine and headed out the driveway of the family estate, John waved his hand after him. Mark waved back. Without a second notion, Mark headed east, a warm May breeze pushing against his back.
The old man had called her twice now, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Michelle was purposely ignoring him.
“Mitch! What are you doing?” Simon questioned for the umpteenth time that day.
The young woman rolled her eyes, still refusing to respond. Michelle couldn’t help but think that her entire life resembled the undercarriage of the sports car she was staring up at. The mechanics of the vehicle were pristine, everything maneuvering so smoothly that she almost questioned why she was lying on her back beneath the aluminum frame and Fiberglas body examining the nuts and bolts of it. The owner whining that he was so sure something had to be wrong was the only reason she was now wasting her time.
Most things in Michelle’s life were going as smoothly, but it hadn’t always been that way. Years had passed since Michelle’s life had been a profusion of everything going wrong that could. So much so that she now found herself spending far too much time worrying about what might go awry if she weren’t careful, wasting energy that she could have been using elsewhere. Clearly though, her most pressing problem at the moment was her uncle’s annoying drone. The man’s voice intruded on her thoughts as he kicked lightly at her steel-toed work boots.
“Hey, girl! You all right under there?”
“I’m busy, Uncle Simon. What’s the matter?”
“The doctor wants to know if you found anything yet.”
Michelle rolled herself from beneath the car, her eyes pressed into thin slits as she stared up toward the patriarch. “Uncle Simon, do me a favor and tell the good doctor I said if he doesn’t stop being a royal pain in my…”
Her uncle raised an index finger in her direction, shaking it vigorously as he stalled the harsh words about to spill past her lips. “Watch your mouth, young lady.”
Michelle sighed with exasperation, pausing a quick moment to contain her attitude. “Tell Dr. Shepherd that I will be right in,” she said finally.
“And there’s a man here to see you about his motorcycle. Him and the doctor seem to know each other. He said his brother recommended you.”
“Who’s his brother?”
The older man shrugged. “That was the one thing he didn’t say.”
She nodded. “Fine. But he’s my last customer today. I want to work on my own ride today if I get the chance,” she said, eyeing the classic 1969 Shelby GT500 that sat in the corner of the shop, the floor around it littered with parts and pieces.
Simon tossed her a toothy grin. “Do me a favor, girl. Make that fool ask you out again. I’ve got another ten bucks riding on it,” he said, winking in Michelle’s direction.
The young woman scowled. “One day, old man, you’re going to lose.”
“Not the way you be treatin’ these young fellows around here I won’t,” Simon responded. “A man don’t stand a chance with you.”
“I just haven’t found the right man yet, Uncle,” she said, grinning as she rolled herself back beneath the car. “Just not yet,” she finished, her voice echoing from beneath the vehicle.
Simon grinned. “Well, then you better hurry up on in here. This boy with the bike actually looks like he can walk and chew gum at the same time. You might get you a real prize if you play your cards right.”
Michelle laughed heartily, the wealth of it ringing into the office behind her uncle. “If that’s a recommendation, Uncle Simon, I’ll pass,” she said, both of them chuckling warmly.
Marcus Shepherd was extolling the virtues of Coleman and Son’s star mechanic as Simon made his way back into the room.
“I swear there is no one better,” the man was saying. Mark Stallion eyed him with reservation.
Mark looked down to the watch on his wrist. “Well, my brother Luke highly recommended him,” he said. “Figured now was as good a time as any to see what the man can do.”
The doctor grinned. “You’ve never met Mitch, have you?”
“No. Why?”
The men holding up space in the room all laughed, but before the physician could respond, Simon closed the heavy metal door harshly behind him.
“Mitch be right here,” he said, breathing heavily, as if he’d just run a mile-long race. “Doc, you ready to write that check now?”
“We figure out what’s wrong with my car?” the man questioned, an eyebrow raising hopefully.
“Like I’ve told you time and time again, nothing,” a deep alto voice responded from the entranceway to the work area. “Not one blessed thing.”
Like the others, Mark turned in the direction of the doorway and the beguiling tone that drew their attention.
The female before him cut a quick eye in his direction, catching his gaze and holding it ever so briefly before moving to stand behind the office counter. Mark’s gaze followed her, taking in the silhouette that defined her femininity beneath the clothing that did nothing to flatter her very female figure. His eyes widened curiously, his interest piqued as she scolded the doctor, one of his brother John’s many fraternity brothers.
“Don’t bring that car back in here, Doc. And I mean it. I swear if I see you or that vehicle again in the next three months, I’m pulling the engine and you won’t be riding in it ever again. You got me?”
Marcus chuckled. “Yes, ma’am!”
Michelle handed the man an invoice, holding her hand out patiently as he wrote her a check for her services. When their transaction was complete, the good doctor waved goodbyes, and she turned her attention to the man who’d been eyeing her curiously, looking him up and down.
The brother was one good-looking specimen of manhood, Michelle thought, admiring Mark’s rugged good looks. The leather attire added to his bad-boy appeal, the ensemble complementing his mahogany complexion, full lips and shoulder-length dreadlocks. But good-looking men in Dallas were a dime a dozen, she mused, barely allowing herself to pause to admire the line of his chiseled features and haunting eyes. “How can I help you?” Michelle asked, her gaze meeting his evenly.
“You’re Mitch?” he asked, surprise in his tone.
Michelle dropped a hand to her hip, shifting her weight. “You have a problem with that?”
Mark shrugged, a sly smile pulling at the line of his full lips. “No. Not at all. I just wasn’t expecting a girl.”
“You didn’t get a girl,” Michelle snapped, annoyance creeping into her voice. “I’m a grown woman and don’t you forget it. So what can we do for you, Mr…?”
“Stallion. Mark Stallion,” the man answered, only a touch flustered by her contentious tone. He composed himself quickly, a wide smile filling his dark face. “My brother Luke said you’d be able to look over my bike for me. I’m headed to South Carolina and I just wanted to make sure she’s road ready.”
Michelle lifted her eyebrows, her head bobbing up and down ever so slightly. Her disposition softened ever so slightly. “So, you’re one of Luke’s brothers. How is he? I haven’t heard from him in a while.”
Mark shrugged. “He’s well. How do you two know each other?” he asked curiously.
Michelle smiled, her eyes shimmering beneath the room’s dim lights. She didn’t bother to answer his question as she made her way from behind the counter to his side. As she paused in front of him, the top of her head barely reaching his chin, the light fragrance of a floral perfume mixed with a hint of motor oil teased his nostrils. Mark took a deep inhale, filling his lungs with the scent of her. He suddenly felt drunk with longing, the woman’s imposing stare, commanding demeanor and gorgeous smile taking control of his senses. The feeling was unsettling, leaving Mark speechless.
“Roll your bike into the garage. The third bay. I’ll get you on the road in no time,” Michelle said, gesturing toward the work area.
Nodding, Mark moved toward the exit. Tossing a quick look back over his shoulder, he couldn’t miss Michelle staring after him. He also didn’t miss the fact that she’d not bothered to respond to his question and now his curiosity was seriously heightened. He couldn’t wait to talk to his little brother to find out what was up with him and that woman.
Chapter 2
Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, was hot and Mark wasn’t thinking about the ninety-plus-degree weather as he rolled up in front of Bimini’s Oyster Bar and Seafood Café. The restaurant was one of his favorite haunts when he was in the area and he’d been thinking about their conch fritters since he’d crossed the border out of Georgia.
As he swung his large body off his vehicle, loosening the strap to his helmet, a group of scantily clad women caught his eye, the trio eyeing him hungrily. The bike event had no shortage of half-dressed females in want of attention, and Mark had always been amazed by how brazen some of them could be. Just that morning a buxom sister with platinum-blond braids in a string bikini that was more string than swimsuit had climbed right onto the back of his motorcycle, grabbing his crotch firmly as she’d whispered a proposition into his ear.
Mark had to admit the offer had been tempting, but he’d politely turned her down, removing her grip from the front of his denim jeans as he’d sent her in the other direction. He shook his head at the memory then turned his attention back to his bike, not even bothering to acknowledge the three young women who were shaking their goodies for his attention. It suddenly dawned on him that he hadn’t sought out any female companionship since his arrival. He pulled the back of his hand to his forehead to check if he might be running a temperature, certain that he had to have a fever.
His thoughts were interrupted by a slap on his shoulder, his attention turning to his good friend and riding buddy, Vanessa Long, who greeted him cheerily. Vanessa was waving her head from side to side, her caramel-colored eyes bulging at the wealth of eye candy that she found so tempting.
“Did you see the bootie on that babe? Her mama sure ’nuf blessed her!” the woman exclaimed excitedly.
Mark laughed. “Down girl! You’re about to hurt yourself.”
Vanessa laughed with him. “Yes, I am and I’m going to enjoy every second of the pain.”
“Where’d you disappear to?” Mark asked as he secured his belongings in the side satchel on his bike. “One minute you were riding beside me and the next minute you were gone,” he said as he and his friend made their way toward the restaurant’s front entrance.
Vanessa grinned sheepishly. “Had to partake in some V-Twin foreplay,” the woman said with a laugh.
Mark winced, shaking his head from side to side. He held up his hands in surrender. “Stop. Don’t tell me any more,” he said jokingly.
Vanessa laughed. “I met me a new friend from Florida. Baby girl likes a Harley so we rode up a steep hill, I shifted into low and the rest is history.”
Mark laughed with her. He and Vanessa had grown up together, best friends since they’d met in elementary school. Vanessa had been all tomboy and her daredevil antics had rivaled his own, making their friendship a nice match. For a brief stint in high school they’d been boyfriend and girlfriend, the passion in their relationship never amounting to much of anything. Then in college Vanessa had admitted her predilection for women, turning their friendly rivalry up two notches. Mark had only been slightly disturbed when the woman had begun to be open about her interests. Interests that ran the same line as his. But over time they’d found their balance, Vanessa acting as if she were just one of the boys and he and his brothers treating her as such.
Inside the restaurant a young waiter with a short, blond bowl cut guided the duo to a booth as he handed them menus, promising to be right back with the two Heineken beers they ordered.
“This truly has been one good time,” Vanessa exclaimed as they settled down for a relaxing lunch.
“Always is,” Mark said, nodding his agreement. “There’s nothing like it.”
Both sat in deep reflection, thinking about the tons of parties and events that typically occurred throughout the five-day weekend. Revelers packed the hotels, the beaches were swamped, the streets packed with bikes and cars, and no matter where you were you could smell the barbecue grilling. In all of his travels, Mark hadn’t found another party quite like it.
“So, how’s the new bike handling?” Vanessa asked, lifting her cold bottle of brew to her thin lips.
Mark nodded. “She’s been sweet,” he answered, thoughts of his encounter with Michelle Coleman rising to the forefront of his mind. “The mechanic did a nice job,” he added.
Vanessa nodded, her eyes sweeping around the room. “So where did Luke find this guy? I might need to take my ride there for some work.”
Mark grinned. “That guy,” he said, “isn’t a guy.” He recalled Michelle’s admonishment when he’d referred to her as a girl. “She’s a very attractive woman,” he said, thoughts of the beauty wafting through his memory.
It had taken her less than an hour to give his bike a once-over before declaring it more than road ready for his journey. She’d given him a list of things to keep an eye on, detailing specifics he should do if he encountered any problems. Then she’d declared her services on the house, repayment of a favor his brother Luke had performed for her. He’d mustered up an apology for the girl faux pas and Michelle had given him a high-voltage smile that had highlighted brilliant pearl-white teeth for his efforts. He’d laughed warmly when she’d warned him not to let it happen again, dismissing him and crawling beneath the front end of a car that looked like it had seen many a better day.
Mark had been tempted to ask her to ride with him, to forgo his trip so he could take her to dinner, but she hadn’t bothered to even look back in his direction. For the first time since forever Mark had exited a room wondering if he’d managed to leave any kind of an impression on a woman who had clearly left one on him.
Vanessa leaned forward in her seat, eyeing him curiously. “Just how attractive is attractive?” the woman asked, sensing a swift change in Mark’s mood.
Blowing a deep exhalation of air, Mark turned his attention back to his friend, shrugging his broad shoulders. A wide grin filled his face. “Don’t start. You’re always trying to make something out of nothing.”
Vanessa chuckled. “See, you left yourself open for that,” she responded. “Your voice changed, you got this goofy look on your face, and you suddenly stopped talking so I know you had to be thinking something you weren’t sharing.”
Mark realized that there was some truth to what the woman had just said. He wasn’t interested in sharing what little he knew about Michelle with anyone, most especially Vanessa with her meddlesome ways. He shook his head from side to side, ignoring Vanessa’s comments as he changed the subject. When he was satisfied that Vanessa was focused on something other than his encounter with Michelle Coleman, he sighed, sipping at his own cool brew.
Soon, Vanessa was lauding the assets of a group of women who occupied a table near theirs. As he turned to gaze in the direction where his friend stared, the man couldn’t help but think that not one of the women vying for some attention could hold a candle to the mechanic everyone called Mitch.
Michelle sat curled up in the window seat of her small townhome, staring out to the courtyard below. The sun had just begun to set and she was watching as her neighbors headed out for a night on the town. The woman in unit 2B actually had a date, a new face arriving in a freshly detailed Cadillac to escort her out. The newlyweds from 5D had left hand in hand, joy shimmering across their faces as they headed out.
Michelle sighed, not sure if she wanted to be depressed about not having a date on a Friday night or not. Getting a date wouldn’t have been a problem—a long list of suitors continually vyed for her attention—but Mitch wasn’t interested in spending time with any of the men who seemed to always be chasing after her.
Thoughts of Mark Stallion suddenly surfaced, causing a mild current of electricity to race up her spine. Their brief encounter had left her curious, wondering if he was as interesting as she imagined him to be. Luke had always talked highly of him, forever praising the siblings he looked up to, and Michelle couldn’t help but be moved by the man’s adoration of them. Having no siblings of her own, she could only imagine that kind of attachment to any blood relative. Her uncle, who’d been married to her father’s sister, was her only living family and even the bond that existed between them didn’t match the one Luke shared with his family.
She and Luke had met his junior year at Texas Southern University. Michelle had been teaching a basic automotive course and Luke had been her star pupil. The young man had spent an inordinate amount of time learning the fundamentals of an automotive engine and not once had he made any kind of a play for Michelle. Not all of his classmates had been as considerate, a few taxing Michelle’s last nerve. One in particular had become very problematic. A late-night encounter with the brute might have ended very differently if Luke hadn’t been there to intervene on Michelle’s behalf. The man had cornered her in a classroom, the moment just shy of being a crime and Michelle a victim if Luke hadn’t arrived when he did. The two had bonded over cups of Starbucks coffee, becoming fast friends and Michelle felt indebted to him, never forgetting how grateful she had been for his help.
Michelle moved from the window seat to the desk in the corner of the room, booting up the laptop computer that sat on the polished surface. When she accessed the Google home page, she typed in the words Stallion Enterprises. Seconds later she was scanning a listing of some 338,000 entries. Selecting the corporation’s official Web site, she clicked the page for the corporate biographies, reviewing the data on Mark Stallion. Michelle couldn’t help but be impressed by his lengthy résumé of accomplishments. One entry in particular, describing his services to the state’s foster-care system, was of much interest to her. Some thirty minutes later Michelle had read every detail written there about the Stallion family.
Moving back to the window, Michelle returned her attention to the parking lot and another car with another couple that was pulling out of a space. She cradled a lukewarm cup of tea between her small palms, heaving a low sigh. Her Friday nights were starting to get too lonely, she thought as she settled the cup against the top of the coffee table. Rising from her seat, she reached for a lightweight jacket. Searching for her keys, she was determined not to let loneliness get to her. With any luck she could be back in the garage and under the hood of her car long before depression had a chance to set in.
Chapter 3
Luke Stallion was seated in his brother’s leather executive chair when Mark entered his office. The younger sibling was flipping through a pile of papers, a look of bewilderment painting his expression. Mark chuckled under his breath as he stood in the doorway, watching the young man try to make sense of the stack of business documents before him.
“Is it that bad?” Mark finally asked, breaking the silence.
Luke jumped in his seat, obviously startled from deep thoughts. “Hey! When did you get here?”
Mark laughed. “Not long. You looked like you were doing something important. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Luke shrugged, dropping the pile of reports back to the desktop as he rose. “It’s the quarterly numbers for the entire corporation. John wants me to run an analysis on them. He says that if I understand the numbers, then I’ll understand which strategies work for the company and which ones don’t.”
Mark laughed again, his head bobbing up and down. “It’s not that bad. He made us all do it one time or another.”
“Anyone heard from him?” Luke asked as Mark moved behind the desk to reclaim his seat.
His brother shook his head. “His wife took him away for a long weekend. No one wants to hear from him. Marah would hurt him if he tried to call and check up on business.”
Luke chuckled. “I know that’s right. So what have you been up to? No one heard from you this weekend.”
“A group of us went up to Big Piney Creek and did some white-water rafting.”
“You’re at the bike festival one week, kayaking the next. You’re living large, bro! And what’s this I hear about the company sponsoring a drag-racing team that you’re going to be driving for?”
Mark grinned. “Pretty slick idea, huh! I came up with that one myself.”
Luke rolled his eyes skyward. “Like that wasn’t hard to figure out. I’m just surprised that John approved it.”
“He hasn’t. At least, not yet. We didn’t think we needed to bother him with the details.”
Luke raised one eyebrow questioningly. “Who’s we?”
“Me, Matthew, and now you. It’s a unanimous decision.”
Luke rolled his eyes a second time. “Thanks for letting me know that I approved.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And Matthew went along with all of this?” Luke questioned, knowing the answer before his brother could get the words past his lips.
“Yep.”
Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you bribe him or was it blackmail?”
Mark chuckled. “You really have the wrong impression about me, little brother. Sometimes you just have to take advantage of those unexpected opportunities that drop into your lap.”
“And what was the name of this unexpected opportunity?”
Mark laughed again. “Stacy something-or-other. Matthew sort of got himself tangled between her and her sister Taylor. See, what it is was…”
Luke held up a hand, stalling the tall tale he knew his brother was about to spin. “Spare me the details,” he said with a wry laugh, his brother laughing with him.
“But a racing team’s a pretty risky venture, isn’t it? And I’m not just talking about the financial risk,” Luke said.
Mark shrugged, his broad shoulders pushing up toward his earlobes. “Life’s too short to waste sitting around. You need to come hang out with me for a while and enjoy it a little more.”
“Life’s too short to be taking any unnecessary chances with these here bones. I think I’ll just stick to the safe sports. Chess, pool, bingo. Those are good enough for me.”
Mark laughed loudly, the warmth of it reverberating around the room, his brother laughing with him. A thought suddenly flooded his mind. He leaned forward in his seat, his hands folded beneath his chin as he rested his elbows against the desktop. “Luke, I met your mechanic friend, Mitch. Why you been holding out on us, boy? What’s up that you had to keep that woman a secret?”
Luke’s grin widened. “No secrets here. There was nothing to tell. Michelle’s just a friend I met in school.”
“A good friend?”
“I like to think so.”
“So you two have something going on?”
Luke laughed. “Why are you asking?”
Mark leaned back in his seat. “Just curious,” he said, fighting to keep his face from showing any emotion.
“Uh-huh. Well, no, it’s not like that between us. We hang out together every now and then but it’s definitely nothing romantic.”
“Was it ever?”
“No. Why? Are you interested?”
Mark shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “She was interesting,” he said, his eye flitting back and forth as he purposely avoided his brother’s gaze. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know her a little better.”
Luke folded his arms over his chest, a raised eyebrow studying his brother carefully. Mark’s reputation with women was scandalous. His love-’em-and-leave-’ em attitude had left many a broken heart across the great state of Texas, the whole Eastern Seaboard and some international territories as well.
Luke shook his head from side to side. “Michelle’s not that kind of girl.”
“Why does it have to be like that?” Mark asked, his tone voicing his annoyance at his brother’s presumptions. “I can’t just get to know a nice girl?”
“I’m sure you’ve gotten to know a few of them. That’s half your problem. Michelle deserves a nice guy and there ain’t nothing nice about you, big brother.”
Mark pretended to pout. “My feelings are hurt.”
“I doubt it,” Luke said.
“You don’t give me any credit. John was just saying that I might meet me a nice girl like Marah and really start to think about settling down. Mitch might be that girl, but how will I know if you’re going to stand in the way of my getting to know her and letting her get to know me? She might actually like me.”
“She might and then again…” Luke’s voice dropped off, his eyes rolling skyward as he teased his sibling.
Mark chuckled. “So, are you going to put in a good word for me or not?”
Moving toward the door, Luke said nothing. As he paused in the entrance, he turned back to face his brother. “I’ll give it some thought and let you know,” he said finally.
Mark chuckled again, lifting that stack of papers from the desktop. “Fine. Be like that,” he said. “And here I was going to help you with your analysis.” He held the documents out toward Luke.
“That is so like you,” Luke said, taking the papers from his hand. “I should have known you’d resort to bribery,” he teased.
Mark laughed. “Did it work?”
Luke laughed with him. “Oh, heck, yeah!”
“That’s what I thought. So when do I get your girl’s telephone number?”
Luke’s eyes widened with amusement. “Did you get Marah’s e-mail?”
Mark looked confused. “What does Marah have to do—”
“Did you get Marah’s message about her meet and greet at the club?” Luke asked again, interrupting his brother.
Mark nodded. “Yeah. So?”
“Make sure you’re there.”
“Why?”
“Because Michelle will be. Then you can ask her for her telephone number yourself.”
Mark stared at his brother thoughtfully, a bright smile warming his face. He pointed his index finger in the man’s direction. “Now who’s bribing who!” he exclaimed cheerfully.
Luke grinned back. “Now, about those numbers…”
It just might be a nice gig, Michelle thought to herself as she read the formal letter that had come to her via express mail. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t be. She had purposely ignored the document at first but, Simon being Simon, he had pulled it from the trash bin where she’d thrown it and had waved it wildly for her attention.
Michelle read the details for the hundredth time, her emotions waffling back and forth as she mulled over the possibilities. Had she even anticipated this happening to her when she’d gotten up that morning she would have rolled back under the covers and stayed there. She hadn’t been at all prepared for the business opportunity that happenstance had just afforded her.
It wasn’t every day that a woman was offered the position of head mechanic for a NHRA Pro Stock motorcycle team and Michelle could now say that she’d not only been offered the position, but that the offer had come with an endorsement from a former president of the NHRA. Not bad for the little girl most thought would never find her way back to the racing tracks after her father’s untimely death years earlier.
Michelle had been her father’s protégée, Brent Mitchell Coleman teaching her everything about the mechanical operations of an engine. Michelle had doted on the man, following him around like a second shadow from the moment she could walk and talk. Her mother had disappeared from their lives before Michelle’s fifth birthday and her father had become the center of her world.
As a little girl, a garage had been Michelle’s playground, pneumatic air tools the toys she played with. By the time she was sixteen years old Michelle could overhaul an automobile engine like a seasoned professional, her skills outranking those of many grown men.
Over the years her father had raced anything on wheels but motorcycles had been his first love. Michelle remembered well the day her father had received his own formal invitational letter to drive a bike for one of the most prestigious Pro Stock motorcycle teams in competition. The two had celebrated with a large pepperoni pizza and ice cold bottles of Corona beer.
Both Michelle and Simon had been a part of the pit crew, maintaining her father’s bike and keeping him on track. The accident had been a fluke of sorts, coming just before one of the largest national races. The win would have ranked her father as the number one seeded driver in the nation and Michelle had been sure he would win. Instead, the fatal crash had ended all of their dreams and left Michelle completely devastated. She was still haunted by the memory of the brake line that was found mysteriously severed. The formal investigation had ruled it an accident, but Michelle had always been convinced that accidents like that didn’t just happen without a little outside help. She still blamed herself for not double-checking her father’s bike one last time.
Michelle heaved a deep sigh, folding the formal document back into the legal-size envelope it had been delivered in. Tossing it back on the counter, she returned to the inventory she’d been taking, her focus on the box of gaskets and pipes she’d been counting.
Simon was still eyeing her from across the room, waiting hopefully for a reaction that he knew Michelle wasn’t going to show. Never one to be outwardly demonstrative, they’d all grown used to Michelle’s passive demeanor, the expressionless eyes that never gave a hint to her feelings. Simon knew that Michelle wouldn’t let him know if she were interested in the job or not until she was on the payroll. But he was excited for her and didn’t mind letting her know. The young woman’s career was definitely on target as far as he was concerned. Now, if they could only do something about her personal life.
Booting up the computer on his desk, Mark had more on his mind than he cared to have. There was a pile of client portfolios on his desk screaming for his attention. Half his day had already been shot to hell haggling with his younger brother, and thoughts of that woman kept creeping into his mind. That woman. Mark’s body quivered at the thought of Michelle, the cool chill racing the length of his spine having become too familiar since the two had met.
Mark was finding it difficult to rationalize what was happening to him. Never before had a woman consumed his waking moments the way Michelle Coleman kept invading his mind. Most especially a woman he’d not even had an opportunity to take to dinner yet. For crying out loud, he thought to himself, shifting in his seat. The two had only met for five short minutes, the woman barely giving him a second look. He couldn’t begin to believe how love struck he was suddenly acting.
The man shook his head vigorously to dislodge the images of Michelle from his mind. Fighting to refocus, he scanned his to-do list for the umpteenth time. At the rate things were going, he thought, the rest of his day couldn’t get any worse because things were already bad enough.
He turned his attention back to the folders before him, flipping through them casually before finally tossing his hands in the air in frustration. He was glad John was not around to give him hell for slacking off on the job. John was a true tyrant when it came to business. Typically, he was, too, but on this particular day, Mark was lacking that kind of fortitude.
If the truth were to be told, when he wasn’t thinking about Michelle, he was anxious to get down to the new athletic facility that housed Stallion Racing. The ten-bay garage had quickly become his favorite place, his home away from home as he maneuvered his way around the mechanics of the new Kawasaki motorcycles that they had recently acquired. He was anxious to get out to the track to give one a test spin around the blacktop. He was missing the squeal of brakes and the smell of burning rubber and just the thought was making him more antsy with each passing moment. He was past ready to get out of the office and the Armani suit that he swore was cutting off his circulation. But those darn folders and the documents inside would not allow him to leave.
An hour or so later his secretary buzzed for his attention. “Mr. Stallion?”
“Yes, Elena,” Mark replied, depressing the response button on the intercom.
“Vanessa Long is on line two, sir. She’s returning your call.”
“Thank you,” Mark said as Elena disconnected the speaker.
He depressed the button flashing up at him. “Hey, girl! What’s up?” Mark chimed cheerily.
“Not much, my friend. How are things with you?” Vanessa responded.
“Woman, it’s been one of those days,” he answered, chuckling under his breath. “So, how’s that new business venture starting out?” Mark asked, alluding to the new sales opportunities Vanessa had spoken about in Myrtle Beach. “You wheeling and dealing with the big boys yet?”
“Oh, yeah!” Vanessa hummed cheerily. “I’m wheeling all right. You’d be surprised what these fools will buy if they think they can get a little something-something on the side.”
Mark laughed with her. “Did you tell them your something-something is very selective?”
“Oh, I made sure they knew how selective it is, honey. Makes them want me even more, but there is absolutely no testosterone allowed on these premises.”
“Okay, there now,” Mark said, grimacing slightly. “Let’s change the subject. So what can I do for you today?”
“You called me, remember? I just got your message and was returning your call,” Vanessa said. “I think the bigger question is what can I do for you?”
Mark nodded, suddenly remembering why it was he’d called his friend in the first place. “I need an escort Friday night. Are you available?”
“Oh,” Vanessa chimed. “Black tie, I hope? I need a reason to get all dolled up.”
“Hardly, more like business chic,” Mark said, his tone denoting little interest. “It’s for some meet and greet thing my sister-in-law is hosting for her business. You remember Marah’s sister Eden, right? You met her at John and Marah’s wedding,” Mark continued, not bothering to wait for Vanessa to respond. “Well, she and Marah own that new dating service downtown. I promised I’d stop by, but I figured I might need a quick exit. Just in case. You know?”
Vanessa chuckled. “Not interested in greeting and meeting some new women? Sounds like it would be a really good time to me.”
Mark shook his head from side to side, oblivious to the fact that his friend couldn’t see him. He wasn’t interested in meeting any new women. He was only interested in meeting one woman. He was anxious for an opportunity to be in the room with his new favorite female mechanic again. But he couldn’t tell Vanessa that and so he denied having any interest at all. “You would think so. Personally, I’m not in the mood to be stuck in a room with a bunch of desperate women looking for a man.”
“They’re not all desperate for a man now,” Vanessa said with a wry laugh.
Mark groaned. “Spare me, please. Do you want to go or not? You know the routine. I need a back door out just in case.”
Vanessa laughed. “Am I the girlfriend or the wife?”
“Whatever it takes to get me out of any bad situations quick.”
“I guess I can do that. Since we’re such good friends and all.”
“I got your good friend,” Mark laughed.
“Are you buying dinner, too? This really sounds like it would call for a good steak dinner afterward.”
“I swear, Vanessa. For a woman who has never officially dated me, you surely are expensive.”
“I take that as a yes,” Vanessa said sweetly.
Mark groaned. “Just meet me there at seven o’clock on Friday and we’ll go from there. The place is called the Post Club. I’ll keep my eye out for you.”
“I’m sure I’ll have no problems finding it. I’ll talk to you later,” Vanessa said.
“Yeah, later,” Mark said as he disconnected the call. And then, for just a brief moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if inviting Vanessa might have actually been a bad idea after all.
Chapter 4
Matthew Stallion pulled his silver BMW into the driveway of Briscoe Ranch. Mark rode shotgun and baby brother Luke took up the backseat. All three men were excited to be spending their day away from the office and out in the field. Briscoe Ranch had become John and Marah’s homestead, the family acreage bequeathed to them on the day of their wedding by her father, Edward Briscoe. Briscoe Ranch was well over eight hundred acres of working cattle ranch and an equestrian center, and its daily operations now fell under the umbrella of Stallion Enterprises’ responsibilities. It had been the compromise that had eventually sealed the deal on an acquisition that had proved to be a challenge to the four Stallion brothers.
Back in the day, Marah’s father, Edward Briscoe, had been one of the original black cowboys, he and his first wife expanding the Texas longhorn operation to include an entertainment complex that specialized in corporate and private client services. The ranch now housed two twenty-thousand-square-foot event barns, and a country bed-and-breakfast. With the property being central to Austin, Houston, Dallas and Fort Worth, Briscoe Ranch had soon made quite a name for itself.
Just weeks before John and Marah’s wedding, patriarch Edward had married Juanita, the Stallion family’s surrogate mother. The two families had merged nicely together and with the two marriages came the acquisition of the ranch and all it had to offer. All the Stallion men were excited about the challenge to expand this area of their business, wanting to build a world-renowned equestrian facility known for its community outreach programs. Each of them was committed to affording young boys and girls from impoverished homes the experience of ranch life up close and personal. Mark, in particular, had made it his personal pet project.
As the three men made their way up the steps of the oversize home, Juanita greeted them at the door, her excitement uncontained. The petite woman reached to wrap her arms tightly around thick necks.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you boys!” Juanita exclaimed, her gray hair swaying down against her shoulders.
“You need to come into the office more often to see us, Aunt Juanita,” Mark said as he lifted her from the ground in a deep bear hug.
“Soon. I promise,” Juanita answered. “There’s been so much going on here that I’ve just had my hands full.” She gestured for them to follow her. “Come on in. We were all getting breakfast,” she said softly.
Inside the large home, the rest of the Briscoe-Stallion clan were gathered around the kitchen island consuming a home-cooked meal. The men were greeted by the delectable aroma of pan-fried potatoes, thick sausage and seasoned eggs.
“Looks like we’re just in time,” Matthew said, reaching for an empty plate off the counter. “Good morning, everyone.”
“Good morning,” said Edward and his daughters, Marah and Eden.
“There are homemade biscuits in the oven,” Marah’s twin sister Marla said, her infant son looking curiously about from her lap.
Mark grinned. “No wonder our big brother can’t ever be found. A beautiful wife and homemade biscuits, too! You’ve got it made, boy!” he exclaimed, slapping John on the back.
“I go away for a few days and now I can’t be found.” John rolled his eyes skyward as he pulled another forkful of potatoes into his mouth. “Please.”
Luke laughed. “Please nothing. Before, you would take a vacation and we’d hear from you every day. When’s the last time you talked to him, Matt?”
Matthew shook his head. “He didn’t call me.”
“Me either,” Mark chuckled.
Marah grinned widely, moving to wrap her arms around her husband’s neck. “A good woman will do that for you. You boys should try it one day,” she said as she planted a kiss against John’s cheek.
John’s smile was even wider than hers. “Don’t be jealous, boys,” he said as he hugged Marah tightly.
They all laughed, chattering easily together as they consumed their morning meal.
“You all are coming to our event tonight, aren’t you?” Eden asked, looking from one brother to the others.
Luke nodded eagerly. “And, I’m bringing a good friend. You remember Michelle, don’t you, Marah?”
Marah nodded. “Oh, I really liked her. I’m glad she’s coming. I know just the men to introduce her to.”
Mark bristled ever so slightly. “Maybe she doesn’t want to be introduced to any men,” he said, his eyes shifting across his plate as he tried to avoid Marah’s curious stare.
Luke eyed Marah and chuckled. “But that’s why she’s coming, Mark. I told her if anyone can help her find a good man that Marah can.”
Mark raised one eyebrow, lifting his gaze slightly to meet his brother’s. “Did you now?” he asked, his tone voicing his displeasure at the sudden thought of his favorite mechanic meeting any other men.
Luke laughed out loud. John looked from Mark to Luke and back again, cutting his gaze toward Matthew. “Did I miss something?”
Matthew shrugged. “Beats me.”
Mark frowned. “No, you didn’t miss a thing. Your brother just thinks he’s funny, that’s all.”
Luke laughed again, shaking his head vigorously.
Marah interjected. “Well, just so you’re prepared, Mark. I think it would be nice if you got to know Michelle better. Unless of course you think Matt would be a better choice for her?”
Mark cast his gaze toward Marah, a rush of heat warming his cheeks as he shook his head vehemently. He stammered, choking on a piece of food. Juanita rushed to his aid, the small of her palm hammering against his broad back.
“I swear, Mark,” Juanita exclaimed. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that you’re obviously interested in this girl.”
Edward shook his head. “Son, I think Juanita done peeped your hold card!”
Mark tapped a closed fist against his chest as he gasped for air. Everyone around him was laughing heartily.
“You all leave Mark be,” Juanita said warmly, her gaze glistening with joy. “Y’all gone make him jump scared before he gets a chance to know the girl.”
Luke grinned, reaching for another biscuit. “Not me, Aunt Juanita. I’ve got a bet riding on this meeting. And I don’t like to lose.”
It was a nice crowd, Mark thought to himself. A very nice group of current clients, former customers and newbies interested in the services the Post Club might have to offer filled the room. Mark watched as Marah and Eden worked the room. They’d been going strong for well over an hour as they guided singles into groups and groups into couples. As he looked anxiously toward the door for the umpteenth time, he noted the arrival of his brothers as Luke and John entered the room at the same time. Luke’s friend Michelle was nowhere to be found.
Marah rushed to greet them, wrapping both men in a deep hug. “This is so exciting!” she gushed, her gaze racing around the perimeter of the room. “We’ve had a great turnout tonight.”
John nodded his head, looking from one sister to the other. “It looks like you and Eden have done a great job,” he said as he leaned his six-foot-plus frame down to kiss her cheek. “Congratulations, baby,” he said, hugging her tightly against his solid body.
“Thank you,” Marah said excitedly.
“Is Michelle still coming?” Mark asked, moving to join the trio. His attention fell on Luke’s face, eagerness flooding his expression. He glanced toward the door one more time.
“Hello to you, too,” John said, rolling his eyes skyward.
Luke echoed his sentiments. “Boy, is that how you greet your family?”
“Hey,” Mark said with a quick nod. “So, is she?”
Before Luke could respond, the entrance door opening and then closing pulled at their attention. The small group turned at the same time to see who was coming through the doorway. Mark was suddenly taken aback as he caught sight of the exquisite woman making her entrance.
“Hot damn!” Mark exclaimed under his breath, his eyes widening with excitement.
Donning a silk dress that was the color of summer-kissed peaches, Michelle surveyed the room in search of a familiar face. The woman cleaned up nicely, Mark thought, admiring the formfitting dress that hugged her lean body. Michelle was long and slender with more leg than torso and the length of her legs was displayed boldly from ankle to upper thigh. Mark’s gaze raced the length of her body, taking in every taut muscle he and everyone else was privy to see.
The moderate length of her hair was cut in a neat bob, the silken strands barely brushing against her shoulders and her chiseled features were perfection personified. Michelle was so beautiful he thought she could have easily rivaled any top model maneuvering a Parisian catwalk. Mark found himself tongue-tied when Luke called out Michelle’s name. He watched as his brother excused himself and then headed in the direction of the door.
Marah tossed a look in Mark’s direction then turned her attention back to Luke and Michelle as they stopped to greet each other with a warm embrace. She leaned into her husband’s side, whispering softly as she glanced up at him. “I think this is going to be the easiest love connection I’ve ever made,” she said with a low giggle.
John laughed with her. “Sorry to disappoint you, baby doll, but I think this connection was made well before you,” he said, eyeing his brother curiously as Mark continued to stare at Michelle.
Marah giggled. “I hate to agree, honey, but I think you’re right,” she said, watching as her brother-in-law stood oblivious beside them.
Still standing in the entrance, Michelle was suddenly aware that she was being admired, Mark’s gaze burning hot in her direction. She met his stare with one of her own, her palms running the short length of her silk dress as she moistened her lips. Beside her, Luke was chatting eagerly, but Michelle didn’t have a clue what he was saying, his words lost as her attention was diverted elsewhere.
Mark stood well over six feet tall, his solid frame strong and sturdy. His complexion was Hershey’s chocolate dark, richly decadent and teasing to the senses. His thick dreadlocks hung down his back, framing the lines of his face like the majestic mane on a lion. Dressed in a classic, charcoal Armani suit, his smoldering bedroom eyes and engaging, enigmatic smile had Michelle’s full attention.
The man gestured with his head, every ounce of his body language welcoming her into the room. Nodding slowly, Michelle took in the sculpted features of the man’s face. Mark Stallion was drop-dead gorgeous. She found herself staring at the curl of his full lips as he grinned at her, unable to stop herself from wondering what it might be like to kiss the lush pillows. She had to force her attention back to his eyes, shaking the clouds of fantasy that had suddenly washed over her.
Before Michelle realized what was happening, Luke had her by the elbow, guiding her in the direction of his brother and the gaze that suddenly had her weak in the knees. When they were standing side by side, everyone smiling widely, Luke made the introductions. “John, Marah, you remember my friend, Mitch, don’t you? Mitch, this is my oldest brother John and his wife, Marah. Marah and her sister are our hosts for the evening.”
Michelle nodded her head, extending her hand in greeting. “It’s very nice to see you both again,” she said softly.
“It’s very nice to see you again as well,” John responded.
“We’re glad you could join us,” Marah added.
Luke gestured toward his other brother. “And I think you’ve met my brother Mark.”
Michelle nodded, her eyes locking with Mark’s. The man’s gaze was still blistering, his excitement shimmering like a raging fire from his dark eyes.
“We did. How are you?” Michelle said, her smile warming the contours of her face. She extended her hand toward his.
“I’m very well, thank you,” Mark said, squeezing her fingers noticeably between his own. “It’s really good to see you again.”
Michelle smiled widely, the warmth of the gesture flooding her face. She suddenly felt herself blushing, a wave of color rising to her cheeks. She pulled her fingers from beneath Mark’s, drawing her palm against her abdomen to stall the quiver of muscle that had her shaking. Drawing in a deep breath, it took everything within her to keep standing on her quivering knees. There was a shared current of electricity that passed between them. The energy was so palpable that everyone around them could feel it. The moment was interrupted as Luke told the story of how he and Michelle had come to be friends.
“My goodness,” Marah exclaimed. “What a blessing it is that neither one of you was injured. Anything could have happened!”
Michelle nodded. “I’m grateful that Luke arrived when he did.”
Marah nodded her agreement. “Well, Mitch, we’re just delighted that you could join us this evening. Can I get you something to drink? Eat?”
Michelle shook her head. “Nothing, thank you. I didn’t mean to crash your party like this, but Luke insisted that I meet him here.”
“You’re not crashing at all,” Marah said, her gaze sweeping up to her husband’s. “We’re delighted that you could join us and I hope that you enjoy yourself. You might want to take advantage of some of our services,” she said, sliding into her salesperson tone. “Then again,” she continued as her eyes met Mark’s, “maybe you don’t need them.”
Michelle responded with a smile.
John’s eyes met Mark’s stare, Mark still looking at Michelle with longing. “If you and Mitch will excuse us, please. I need to steal my woman away for a moment,” John said, clasping his fingers between Marah’s. Marah gave Michelle and Mark a wink as she followed her husband.
Mark nodded, suddenly feeling nervous. The rise of anxiety intensified as Luke excused himself as well, leaving him and Mitch alone together. There was a moment of awkward silence that suddenly filled the space between them.
“So, Mr. Stallion, how was your trip to the beach?” Michelle asked, moving to ease the rise of tension between them.
He nodded. “It was great. The bike rode like a dream. And please, call me Mark.”
Michelle nodded ever so slightly. “Well, Mark, do you come to many of these things?” she asked, glancing around the room.
Mark shook his head. “This is my first and I’m only here because Marah insisted.”
Michelle raised one eyebrow, eyeing him curiously. “That’s the only reason?”
The man smiled shyly. “I’m not big on these kinds of things.”
“But you might meet someone special,” Michelle said, a coquettish aura washing over her expression.
Mark resisted the sudden urge to take a step closer to her, the sweet scent of her perfume rising like a warm mist around them. I already have, he thought to himself, fighting not to say the words out loud. Instead he said, “I might,” his voice seeming to drop an octave. “I guess if you’re single you can always use a little help with finding romance. Don’t you agree?”
Michelle nodded. “I do, but I imagine you’ve got plenty of game when it comes to dealing with women.”
“Oh, I’ve got game,” Mark said with a soft chuckle. “I’ve got great game. My problem is I keep losing the game.”
Michelle laughed with him. ‘Well, that’s not a good thing.”
“No, it isn’t.”
The noise level in the room seemed to rise an octave as they stood in discussion. Mark suddenly wanted Michelle all to himself as they continued their conversation, oblivious to everyone else around them. He gestured for her to follow as he headed in the direction of Marah’s office, leaving the noise and laughter of the crowd behind them.
“That’s better,” Mark said as he closed the door to the inner sanctuary. “I can hear myself think now.”
“It did start to get a little noisy in there,” Michelle answered.
Mark smiled as he leaned back against the large wooden desk that sat room center. Resting against the edge, he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to appear as anxious as he felt.
“So, tell me more about this race team,” Michelle said, eyeing him curiously.
Mark shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’m looking forward to the upcoming time trials. I think my team will do very well this season. This project is my baby and I’m out to prove myself.”
“Have you been racing long?”
“A few years now. How about you? I know you can fix ’em but do you ride as well?”
Michelle nodded. “I don’t race but I learned to ride before I learned to walk. My father drove for Rockman Racing.”
A look of surprise crossed Mark’s face. “Really? Who was your father?”
Michelle paused briefly before answering. “Brent Coleman.”
There was a moment of recognition, the stories of Brent Coleman’s demise washing over Mark’s face. “I didn’t know,” he said softly, suddenly embarrassed. “My condolences for your loss.”
Michelle gave him a quick smile. “Thank you. And it’s okay. I don’t mind talking about my father.”
“I understand. I lost both my parents in an automobile accident when I was very young so I know what that’s like.”
Michelle was staring at him with glazed eyes. Her stare seemed to gently caress Mark’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Mark shrugged. “Let’s change the subject. So, what do you do in your free time?”
“Repair engines,” Michelle answered with a low chuckle.
Mark laughed as well. “Okay, but I’m sure you entertain yourself with other things as well.”
The young woman nodded. “I do. I love anything that gives me an adrenaline rush, and engines give me one heck of a rush!”
Mark nodded slowly, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly.
Michelle laughed. “Strap one onto your back and I’ll show you what I mean,” she said, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could catch them.
Mark roared, mirth spilling between them like water from a faucet.
A wave of silence washed over the two of them as both gathered their thoughts, thoroughly enjoying the moment and the company. Michelle heaved a low sigh, color flooding her cheeks.
“Are you okay?” Mark asked.
Her head bobbed slightly. “This might be a little forward, Mark, but are you involved with anyone?” she asked, staring into his eyes.
He shook his head, his eyes widening brightly. “No, I’m not. Are you?” he asked, finally taking that step toward her.
The two were suddenly so close that Michelle could feel the heat from his body melting into her own. The power of the moment seemed to surface with a vengeance, taking full control. The rise in temperature was consuming, perspiration beading from her pores. Before she could catch herself, she’d pressed the length of her manicured fingers against his chest, the beat of his heart pulsating against her palm. As she lifted her eyes to meet his, Mark pressed one palm against the back of her hand and the other around her waist, drawing Michelle closer to him.
Before either could utter another word, the office door swung open, Marah and her sister rushing in from the other side. Both Marah and Eden looked from one to the other, concern filling their faces. Behind them, Luke was shaking his head anxiously. Michelle felt as if she’d been caught with her hands in the cookie jar, and a wave of embarrassment swept over her.
Mark took two quick steps back, his cheeks heated with color. When he caught sight of the young woman following on Marah’s heels, his expression dropped straight to the floor.
Marah spoke first. “Mark, we found you,” she said, her churlish tone causing him to cringe.
He nodded, trying to mask his discomfort. “Mitch and I were just talking,” he said anxiously, his gaze sweeping from one face to another.
The woman behind Marah pushed her way forward, moving to the front of the crowd. She extended her hand in Michelle’s direction. “Hello, I’m Vanessa Long. Mark’s fiancée.”
Michelle shot Mark a quick look then stared back as Marah finished the introductions.
“Vanessa, this is Michelle Coleman, a close friend of Luke’s.”
The other woman gushed politely. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She looped an arm through Mark’s, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Hi, honey. I told you I’d make it!”
Chapter 5
“Men make me sick,” Michelle muttered for the umpteenth time. She kicked her high-heeled pumps from her size-seven feet as she settled the length of her body against a plush sofa.
“We’re not all that bad,” Simon offered, leaning the wealth of his weight against the back of the upholstered furniture. He gently massaged the young woman’s shoulders, both staring in the direction of the flat-screen television playing with the volume turned down.
“In fact,” the elderly man continued, “there are a few of us who are actually quite decent,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Well, clearly there is nothing decent about Mark Stallion. The man lied,” Michelle said, meeting her uncle’s gaze. “He straight up lied to me. No, I’m not involved with anyone,” she said, mimicking Mark’s comments. “So, what was that all about with him and his fiancée?”
Simon shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you,” he answered. “He didn’t say anything else?”
“I didn’t give him a chance. I was sure he was just going to tell some more lies so I walked out.” She heaved a deep sigh.
Her uncle squeezed her shoulder gently. “I’m sorry, Mitch. I had really hoped you’d have a good time.”
Michelle heaved another sigh, warm breath blowing past her lips into the air-conditioned room. “Liars and cheats,” Michelle muttered. “All of ’em. Liars and cheats.”
Simon chuckled. “Well, at least you found out before it went anywhere rather than afterward.”
Michelle nodded in agreement. “He sure seemed like a great guy though, Uncle Simon,” she said wistfully.
Simon stared down at her, the melancholy in her voice tugging at his heartstrings. He had a few choice words for that Stallion fellow. Simon didn’t take kindly to anyone causing his surrogate daughter grief.
Michelle sighed again, suddenly feeling self-conscious at her behavior. She couldn’t begin to explain why she’d reacted so strongly. It wasn’t like there was anything between her and that man. The two barely knew each other, but she’d been excited at the prospect of getting to know him better. Mark Stallion had excited her and now she was reeling from the disappointment.
Rising from her seat, Michelle moved into the small galley kitchen, searching the contents of her freezer. Tucked out of sight behind a stack of frozen dinners and a foil-wrapped package she couldn’t begin to identify was a pint of butter pecan ice cream. Pulling it and a spoon into her hands, Michelle returned to the television, dropping heavily back to her seat. Simon sat down beside her, and reached for the television remote that sat on the glass-topped end table.
“Put it on the Speed Channel,” Michelle said as she scooped the first spoonful of frozen dessert into her mouth.
Simon shook his head, a moment of confusion washing over his expression. “The Speed Channel?”
Michelle spooned a second taste of ice cream into her mouth. “NASCAR’s on and, unlike most men, a good car race has never failed me.”
Mark had been pacing the floor and ranting like a madman ever since Michelle had stormed out of Marah’s office. The woman had barely bothered to say goodbye as she’d made her exit. He’d been stunned, unable to think straight as Vanessa had commanded everyone’s full attention, feigning excitement about her fiancé Mark. The man heaved a deep sigh.
“It’s your own fault,” Luke admonished. “What were you thinking?”
“He wasn’t thinking. That’s half the problem,” Marah said. “I thought you liked Mitch?”
“I did. I mean I do. I…It just…” Mark stammered, fumbling to form a complete sentence.
Vanessa laughed. “I don’t know what you’re getting all worked up about,” she said, mirth gleaming in her pale eyes. “You told me you didn’t want any attachments so what’s the problem?”
Mark stopped in his tracks, doing an about-face to stare at his friend. “And did you have to keep going on and on? And where did you get that damn ring?”
Vanessa smiled, holding up the ring finger on her left hand and the four-carat cubic zirconia ring that adorned it. “Nice touch, huh?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Well, if you had just shut up for two seconds I might have been able to explain.”
John chuckled. “Not likely. I didn’t get the impression that Mitch was hearing anything you had to say.”
“And what about that?” Mark questioned, tossing his hands into the air. “Don’t you think she overreacted?”
His big brother laughed. “I think you play too much. This is what happens when you play all the time.”
Mark scowled, his expression showing his displeasure with his sibling’s assessment.
Vanessa shrugged. “Well,” she said nonchalantly, “it could have been worse. Just imagine if I had come as your pregnant wife!”
Mark woke early, no sign of morning light peeking through his bedroom windows. Opening his eyes, he struggled to focus then gave up, falling back against the mound of pillows as he closed his eyes tightly. His whole body felt as if he’d been run over by a Mack truck.
Taking a deep inhalation he blew stale breath past his full lips then rolled over onto his side. No one had answered the telephone number that Luke had given him for Michelle. Each time he’d dialed and the phone had rung, Mark imagined her purposely avoiding his calls, still believing he was engaged to be married to the likes of Vanessa. Even his little brother had not been able to get through to her to help pave the way to an explanation and an apology.
A wave of nausea rippled through Mark’s abdomen. He wanted to be sick but he fought the vile sensation. His night hadn’t gone at all the way he’d hoped. It had started on a grand high and then just like that the energy had deflated like a burst balloon gone awry.
His family had been less than sympathetic over his dilemma and his buddy Vanessa had been the only one to find any humor in the moment. Mark rolled over onto his stomach, pressing his abs, chest and face tight against the mattress.
Mark had no explanation for what he was feeling, but the past evening’s events were weighing heavy on his spirit. It wasn’t like this was the first time Vanessa had ever interceded on his behalf, saving him from what surely would have been a relationship disaster. And, if you had asked him before he’d met Michelle he would have told you that it wouldn’t have been the last time. But something about the beguiling woman had him totally unsettled, spiraling so far off his game that he couldn’t remember how to play.
It was way too early to call her, he thought as he lifted his body slightly to peer at the digital clock on the nightstand. Then again, he thought, what did he have to lose? Maybe he’d get lucky and catch her off guard. Maybe she’d have a change of heart and he’d be able to explain that it had all been one bad mix-up. Maybe Michelle would have found the funny that had kept Vanessa doubled over with laughter. As Mark reached for his cell phone and hit the redial button all he could think was just maybe.
Michelle wasn’t happy and her vile mood was far from pleasant. She’d tossed and turned most of the night, sleeping coming in sporadic doses. When she’d finally been able to fall into a deep slumber, the ringing telephone had wakened her, leaving her wide-eyed and evil.
Caller ID had burst many a telemarketer’s dreams but Michelle had been more than grateful for the little invention. Recognizing the familiar number had kept her from answering the early-morning call, insuring that her bad mood wasn’t made worse with her cussing that man out.
She’d been very tempted to pick up the call and cuss. Instead she’d disconnected the ringer on her telephone. Unable to fall back to sleep, she’d risen from her bed, had tossed on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and now she was standing in the center of the garage trying to decide which repair job she wanted to tackle first.
Michelle rested her hands against her lean hips. Thinking about Mark Stallion and why she was in the garage at five o’clock in the morning only served to make her angrier. But she was not going to be moved by the pretty, rich boy who thought the world revolved around him and him alone. Clearly the man had too much time on his hands if he was able to play the games he seemed to be playing with her. As far as Michelle was concerned, Mark Stallion could call all he wanted. She had no intentions of ever answering.
Chapter 6
“Do the words big and baby mean anything to you?” Vanessa asked, her hands hinged to the shelves of her full hips.
“What are you trying to say?” Mark answered, tinkering with the engine of his new race bike.
“I’m not trying to say anything. I said what I had to say. You’re acting like a big baby. What’s with you?”
The man rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. Instead, he straddled his bike, turned the ignition and backed the bike out of the garage. Vanessa walked out behind him, leaning against the railing as he made his way onto the racetrack. Three laps around the paved surface and Mark was suddenly feeling more like himself. By lap twenty, he was a changed man. Vanessa noted the immediate difference in his attitude.
“Feeling better?” she asked as he swung off his bike, removing his helmet from his head.
Mark nodded, shrugging his shoulders. “Much. Sorry about before but you know…” His voice trailed off as he cut his eye in her direction and back out to the track.
Vanessa nodded. “So am I. I didn’t mean to mess up what you had going on. I just figured…well…you know…” She paused as well, knowing that Mark would be able to finish her thought without her saying another word.
Mark extended a closed fist and Vanessa punched back. “It’s cool,” he said. “I’m over it.”
She smiled. “So—” She was interrupted by the loud roar of a Suzuki race bike careening around the track. Both of them turned to stare, captivated by the precision machinery that was taking the curves with ease. The driver was leaning so sharply that the bike practically lay on its side, both driver and machine appearing as though they might fall flat at any moment.
So enthralled were the two of them watching that neither noticed that they were not alone. A rotund man with a Santa beard and mustache had moved to their side and was watching just as intently, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his khaki slacks. His head was bobbing up and down against his shoulders in excitement and it was only when he let out a very loud whoop did they realize he was there.
Vanessa jumped, startled only momentarily. Mark turned about suddenly, and then greeted the man with cool acknowledgment. “Greg Rockman. Why am I not surprised to run into you?” Mark asked, his tone chilly.
The Santa impersonator grinned broadly. “It’s nice to see you as well, Stallion. How might you be this fine afternoon?”
Mark nodded. “I’m doing quite well, thank you for asking. I was just telling my friend here that I’m looking forward to wiping up the track with your boys this season. Things couldn’t be looking better if you were to ask me.”
Vanessa watched with amusement, leaning with her back against the fence that separated them from the racecourse. She looked back and forth from one man to the other, clearly entertained at the exchange. Few knew that Greg Rockman was not one of Mark’s favorite people, something about the man’s business practices not sitting well with her friend. When it was necessary, Mark was very good at masking his distaste for the man but Vanessa knew it wouldn’t be but so long before her friend would be ready to drop his cordial facade.
Rockman smiled a wide grin that stretched from ear to ear. “I’m sure you’re going to give it your best shot,” the man answered, turning his attention back to the bike and the driver. “But I don’t think,” he continued, his tone smug, “that you’ll be wiping up much with the team I’ve put together. We’ve got a secret weapon this year that’s going to make all you boys wish you’d stayed home where you couldn’t get your feelings hurt.”
Vanessa wouldn’t have thought it possible but the man’s smile widened even further, his whole body quivering like a bowl of cherry Jell-O as he chuckled.
Mark gave him a wry smile back. “And what’s this secret weapon you’re so proud of?”
“Now, it wouldn’t be a secret if I told you, would it?”
Mark rolled his eyes, turning back to stare where the other man stared. The driver was slowing down, taking the bike around with a lazy ease. Mark wasn’t quite sure if there was something wrong with the vehicle or if the driver had just grown weary of the exhilaration. He was suddenly surprised when Rockman gestured for the driver to join them, the man waving excitedly for attention. “That’s one of yours?” Mark asked casually.
“That’s what’s going to whip your tail this season.”
Mark cut his eye at the man and back to the bike and driver that was headed in their direction.
Easing the bike forward, Michelle was only so surprised to see her new employer standing side by side with Mark Stallion. She’d known that once she accepted the position it would only have been matter of time before she and that man would run into each other. If Michelle were completely honest, Mark Stallion had motivated her to accept the position with his opposition. Michelle was looking forward to beating Stallion at one of his games. Once she’d said yes, running into him had been inevitable. But it had to be some kind of bad karma for it to have happened on her first day on the job.
Coming to a complete stop, she shut down the engine and lifted herself from the bike, setting it back against the kickstand. Reaching for the strap on her helmet, she was focused on the tall black man who was studying her curiously. He was even more beautiful than she’d remembered, she thought to herself. Her stomach was tumbling in circles, the toast and orange juice she’d consumed for breakfast threatening to return. It took everything in her to control the quiver of anxiety that was causing her hands and knees to shake.
Easing her helmet off her head, Michelle came through the gate to where they stood. She extended her hand to Greg Rockman, a warm smile filling her face. “Hey there, Uncle Greg. Glad you could make it.”
“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything, Mitch. You looked great out there. How did the bike handle?”
“She’s sweet. We’re going to have to do some work on the engine but the light weight of the body makes it a very nice ride.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” the man said excitedly. “Now, you sure I can’t convince you to come ride for me instead? You sure know how to handle yourself out there!”
Michelle shook her head. “I don’t think so, sir. I much prefer the garage.”
Michelle looked from Rockman to Mark and then noticed Vanessa eyeing her with interest. She bristled, trying to not let her sudden discomfort show.
“Oh, I’m being rude,” Rockman said, moving to wrap an arm around Michelle’s shoulders. “Mitch, let me introduce you to the competition. This is Mark Stall—”
Michelle cut him off. “We’ve met,” she said curtly, the smile draining from her face.
Mark stared in awe, his mouth parted slightly as he struggled to focus. He’d not been able to mask his obvious surprise. When Michelle had taken off her helmet, pulling a hand through her hair, he’d been instantly captivated. He had barely been able to contain his excitement when he’d recognized her.
Wire mesh and steel posts had separated the asphalt from the weathered grass where he’d been standing with Rockman and Vanessa. Where Michelle had rested on the other side had felt almost miles away to Mark. Suddenly he’d wanted to jump the fenced barrier to sweep her into his arms and hold her. He shook his head slightly, waving the clouds from his thoughts. “Yes, we have. How are you, Mitch?”
Michelle’s smile turned down into a deep frown. She nodded her head, not saying anything to him at all. “And how are you doing, Mrs. Stallion?” she asked, turning her attention toward Vanessa instead, loudly emphasizing the Mrs.
Vanessa laughed out loud. “It’s Ms. Long and I’m just taking it all in,” she said, unable to contain her giggles.
Michelle raised a curious eyebrow at the comment. “I’m just sure you are,” she said, moving back to the motorcycle. “Well, I need to get this in the garage to see what damage has been done. If you all will excuse me.”
Rockman nodded. “I’m right behind you.” He shook Mark’s hand a second time, giving the man a smug wink. “We’ll see you in our rearview mirror, Stallion. Take it easy now.”
Mark glared at the man. “You wish, Rockman. You wish.” He turned his attention back to Michelle, who was now on the other side of the fence, easing her bike toward the garage bays. She wore leather. Leather jeans and a jacket that bore the Rockman Racing logo fit her petite figure nicely. Everything about her demeanor highlighted her extraordinary beauty. Her confidence and self-assurance was almost intimidating, and he found the wealth of her talent sexy as hell.
Mark winced as she pulled out of sight. It suddenly dawned on him that she was working for the competition. And worse, it appeared as if she might actually like the job. Mark couldn’t begin to imagine what Michelle could possibly see in Rockman or his team. Even if he could have wooed her away with a better offer, Mark sensed that his chances of success, business or personal, didn’t look favorable. That icy stare she’d given him hadn’t done much at all for his self-confidence.
Vanessa’s amusement had increased tenfold, and as she stood staring at Mark it was all she could do to contain her enthusiasm. The expression on the man’s face was priceless. He stood staring after Michelle like a lovesick puppy, his eyes wide and sad that the exquisite woman was gone from him. Vanessa couldn’t remember him ever reacting to any woman like that before. Maybe this Mitch woman had a few redeeming qualities that Vanessa didn’t know about.
She grinned. “So, you just gonna stand there or do you plan on catching up with the woman to ask her out?”
“What? Huh?” Mark asked, jumping. He’d gotten lost in thought, having forgotten that Vanessa was even there. Heat warmed his dark cheeks as he blushed profusely. “What are you talking about, Vanessa?” he answered finally.
Vanessa pointed in Michelle’s direction. “You need to tell her the truth and straighten your mess out. So, go do what you need to do.”
Mark cringed. For the life of him he couldn’t quite figure out why things seemed so complicated. It felt like that woman had gotten up under his skin and now he had a raging rash that he couldn’t quite scratch. He shook his head, trying to shake every thought of Michelle out of his head. He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Leave it alone,” he said, his tone short as a bold-faced lie passed over his lips. “She’s not interested and neither am I.”
Michelle rarely ran into other women in the ladies’ room of the racetrack when the tracks were closed to the public, so running into Vanessa Long took her completely by surprise. Each and every time she’d thought that perhaps she could have been wrong about Mark Stallion, his so-called fiancée had been by his side and Michelle had changed her mind. Obviously the two were closer than he’d wanted her to know or he wouldn’t have lied about them being together. If Michelle was certain of anything, she knew that she didn’t need that kind of drama in her life, so Michelle had made avoiding him and his woman a scientific art. And now, with her bladder about to burst, she truly had no interest in dealing with Vanessa soon-to-be-married Long.
As she’d made her way into the five-stall space, pulling at the zipper to her jeans, she had no interest in dealing with Vanessa, who stood at the oversize mirror freshening her makeup. The other woman broke out into a full grin at the sight of her.
“Hey, what’s up?” Vanessa called out, addressing her as if they were longtime friends.
Michelle’s eyebrows were raised curiously as she nodded her greeting, caught too off guard to speak.
Vanessa turned an about-face as Michelle rushed into the closest stall and closed the door. Behind her, Vanessa laughed out loud.
“What’s so funny?” Michelle asked, her voice carrying through the door.
“You. You had to know that we’d run into each other sooner or later.”
“Actually, I hadn’t given it much thought,” Michelle answered.
“I’m sure you wished it wouldn’t happen at all is what I’m sure you were thinking.”
Michelle flushed the commode, then made her way back out to the row of sinks that lined the wall. She tossed Vanessa a quick glance as she turned on the faucet, reached for the liquid soap and washed her hands. “You give yourself too much credit,” she said. “Truly, I haven’t given you much thought at all,” she said.
Vanessa laughed again. “But I’m sure my friend Mark’s been on your mind. I’m sure he’s been on your mind a lot.”
Vanessa calling the man’s name made Michelle bristle ever so slightly. Despite her best efforts, emotion showed on her face, her interest and frustration with the man gleaming out of her eyes.
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