Kitabı oku: «The Stallion Brothers», sayfa 3

Marah paused, relishing the warmth of his touch, the sensation distracting her from any coherent thoughts. “I…I…liked…” She was unable to form the words to explain the edge to her personality that allowed her to take risks and do things other people wouldn’t. She stepped away from his touch, wrapping her arms tightly around her torso.

“Look,” she said, taking a deep breath and holding it for a quick minute. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play, John, but I’m not interested,” she said, her tone everything but convincing.

“Aren’t you?” he answered, that smug smile pulling at the line of his mouth.

Marah was suddenly overcome with emotion she didn’t like. No, she didn’t like how she was feeling at all. “No, I’m not,” she said firmly, a bald-faced lie slipping past her lips. “All I want is to know what it will take for you to let go of this deal and leave my family alone?”

“Is that all?’ John asked, taking a step toward her, the look he gave her overwhelming.

Marah was consumed with emotion, her mind and body suddenly doing battle for control. The expression across the man’s face was edged with something that Marah could only describe as wicked. The man was playing her, she thought suddenly. John Stallion was trying to beat her at her own game. She nodded her head slowly. A slight smile blessed her face. If he wanted to play, then she would pull him into a game that would surely leave him wishing he’d found someone else to play with.

“Maybe not,” Marah said, lifting her coquettish gaze to stare into his.

There was a moment of quiet hesitation as both stood contemplating each other.

“I suddenly have an overwhelming desire to kiss you,” Marah said softly, taking a step toward him.

John stepped in to meet her, a torrent of heat flooding his senses when she pressed a perfectly manicured hand against his chest. A large hand fell to the curve of her waist as he snaked his arm around her body to pull her close. When her pelvis met his, John felt like he might explode right there. Marah gasped, her own body awed by the intensity of his touch.

“What’s stopping you?” he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he moved to lower his mouth to hers.

Marah paused, smiling sweetly, then took two steps back, her hand falling down to her side as she slipped out of his grasp. “The urge passed,” she answered, her eyes flickering with amusement.

John laughed, a wide grin filling his face. “You’re a tease, aren’t you?’

“Not at all, Mr. Stallion. I’m just tired of brothers like you who think they can get over on their good looks and smooth lines. This deal is nowhere close to being done. Believe that. Now, either you want to take this to the table or you don’t, but I guarantee you that my father will not be signing any time soon, if—” she paused, allowing her gaze to meet his evenly “—he signs at all.”

John nodded, still smiling smugly. “Tomorrow afternoon. Two-thirty. I think you know where the conference room is, Ms. Briscoe.”

“I do, but then you know where the ranch is. Meet me in the stables, Mr. Stallion. Shall we say three o’clock?”

“Three o’clock,” he responded, nodding his agreement. “I look forward to it.”

As she disappeared in search of her father, John turned to stare out to the starry sky. The image of Marah lingered in his memory as he replayed the evening over in his head. Picturing the woman’s sweet smile made him hard with wanting. Picturing the length of her lithe legs made his stomach hum with appreciation. Picturing her sparkling eyes made him hungry with desire. As he imagined what could have happened between them, he couldn’t help but picture what kissing her could have been like.

Chapter 5

The four men sat lost in their own thoughts when Juanita came into the room to wish them all a good night. “Sweet dreams, boys,” she chimed, her tone as comforting as it had been when she’d come to help eighteen-year-old John assume responsibility for his siblings.

Juanita had been their mother’s best friend since the two women had been children. The deaths of Irene and James Stallion had devastated her world almost as much as it had destroyed the four Stallion children. With no family of her own, she’d made it possible for them to remain together as a family, stepping in to enable John to have guardianship over his brothers. Juanita had been a rock and all four of them adored her.

John smiled, swirling a tulip-shaped glass slowly in his hand. “Thank you, Aunt Juanita. I’ll be heading out in a few minutes,” he said, coddling the last sips of a vintage cognac.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” the woman asked, concern warming her voice. “I can have your room ready in a few minutes.”

He shook his head no. “I want to go home tonight.”

“Well, I’m staying, Matthew interjected. “If I have to sleep alone tonight, I can do it here just as well as I can do it at my apartment.”

His brothers laughed.

“John,” Mark said, his amusement seeping into his voice. “Are you sleeping alone tonight or might you be entertaining company?”

“Yeah, bro. Who will you be discussing contracts with later this evening?” Luke asked.

Juanita waved her hand. “You all need to stop now. Take that nonsense someplace else. Leave your brother be.”

“That’s okay, Aunt Juanita. They’re just jealous,” John responded.

Matthew laughed. “I know I am. You and Ms. Briscoe seemed very comfy with each other. Something you want to tell us?”

John could feel them all staring in his direction. “No,” he said, waving his head from side to side. “There isn’t anything to tell.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Mark said. “I saw how you were looking at the woman.”

John glared in his brother’s direction, not bothering to respond.

Juanita shook her head. “Marah’s a sweet girl. You should get to know her better.”

Matthew came to his feet, moving toward the door. “I’m sure that’s exactly what John wants, Auntie. To get to know her better.” He winked an eye at the other men. “Isn’t that right, big brother?”

John sipped the last of his drink, rising from his own seat. He ignored the grins plastered on his sibling’s faces, not bothering to respond to what Matthew had just said. “Good night, Aunt Juanita,” he said, leaning to kiss the older woman’s cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby,” she said, patting his back lightly.

As John moved through the door and out of the room, Matthew continued to grin at him. Unable to resist the temptation, John swung a fist in the man’s direction, landing a punch against his brother’s shoulder.

“Ouch!” Matthew exclaimed, caught off guard by his brother’s behavior. He rubbed the bruised spot, a look of surprise gracing his face.

John laughed. “Keep being a wise ass. You forget I can still whip your butt, little brother. Mind yourself before I hurt you,” he said, waving good night to the others.

Behind him, Luke and Mark rolled with laughter.

Not even the flicker of candlelight, the lull of soft music or the soft scent of lavender bubbles could dispel the frustration Marah was feeling. She dipped a perfectly painted toe in and out of the bath of warm water.

On the ride home, her father’s answers to her many questions had been less than enlightening. He would only acknowledge that he and that woman were good friends, giving her no other information about their relationship. As well, it would seem that his friendship with the Stallion men had bloomed months prior with neither her nor her sisters having any knowledge that they even knew each other.

Marah shook her head, shifting her body against the porcelain pool. What her father had been eager to discuss, though, was John Stallion and his more favorable attributes. It had become quickly obvious that Daddy was keenly interested in Marah being interested in that man. Marah had admonished him for trying to play matchmaker and Edward had simply laughed, reminding Marah that daddies always knew best. In this case though, Marah was determined to prove her daddy wrong.

Admittedly, John Stallion intrigued her. On one hand, there was something about his casual aloofness and commanding demeanor that made her want to know more. She was excited by the prospect of getting to know him better. On the other hand, John Stallion stood poised to wreck havoc on her life. He wasn’t interested in understanding what Briscoe Ranch meant to her and that made him her adversary. A very worthy adversary, Marah surmised, and one who didn’t appear interested in backing down from his position.

Marah took a deep breath, then two, holding both briefly before blowing the warm air past her lips. She couldn’t begin to imagine what was going to happen between them, she thought, but she wished she could stall the rise of wanting that seemed to originate from her center and span through her body each time she thought about him. The man unnerved her, making her quiver at the possibility of his touch. She wished she could get all thoughts of John Stallion out of her head.

Settling into the warmth of the water, Marah was suddenly aware of the song playing on her CD player. The Dixie Chicks were singing about not being ready to make nice. Natalie Maines was crooning about not being ready to back down. And truth be told, Marah wasn’t ready, either.

The short ride to his Edgemere Road home took John longer than it should have. He couldn’t resist driving past the gates of Briscoe Ranch first, stopping his car just at the edge of the extensive property. He sat watching as the limousine pulled out of the driveway, away from the house. He sat with the engine running, lingering long enough to see the flash of lights come on and go off inside the home. He sat allowing himself to imagine for just a moment what Marah might have been doing inside before continuing on home.

The woman was intoxicating, but he was astute enough to know that her obsession with the ranch would prove to be even more problematic than it already was. He never mixed business with pleasure and the business of Briscoe Ranch would surely come between them and any pleasure he might want to imagine the two of them having. Unfortunately, the deal was signed and sealed whether Marah was willing to accept it or not.

John heaved a deep sigh as he pulled into his garage. Under any other circumstances, he would never have entertained the thought of appeasing any woman with a meeting after a deal had been signed and delivered. But for Marah, he realized he was willing to go to extensive lengths to make her feel good about what his company planned to do with the acquisition. For the life of him, though, he couldn’t figure out why.

They barely knew each other. The woman had stormed into his life and may well storm back out when all was said and done, but she had struck a nerve that no other woman had even remotely been able to touch. Making his way inside, John reflected on all he knew about her.

Edward Briscoe had told him story upon story about his three daughters. The man adored his children and it was evident in everything he did and said. He was also a concerned father, worried about what would happen with each of them when he was no longer around to help them toe the line. He had high hopes for his youngest child, the daughter most like the wife he’d loved and adored. And he worried more for her than he did the others.

Edward had told him the tragedy of losing their mother had touched Marah more than the other girls. John could understand what she had gone through, remembering his own devastation when learning that both his parents were gone. Edward feared that Marah’s obsession with the ranch was more about her being afraid to let go and move on with her life than anything else. He was concerned because he himself was ready to think about moving on.

John had watched as Edward and Juanita had grown closer over the last few months. They had slowly moved past the bounds of friendship toward something more and John, for one, was happy for them. He couldn’t help but notice, however, that his Aunt Juanita’s presence had been a source of consternation for Marah. It probably hadn’t helped that her father hadn’t shared the news of the woman in his life with his youngest child. John had admonished him for that while Edward had tried to make John understand why the news was not going to sit well with his daughters and how Marah would be the child least accepting of his choices. They had politely agreed to disagree.

He took a moment to reflect back on his conversations with the woman while she’d been in his family home. At one point he’d been able to pull her aside, to apologize for the experience in the elevator. Marah had shrugged it off. He wasn’t quite so eager to do the same.

After changing out of his tuxedo, he moved from his bedroom into his studio. John settled himself in front of an easel and began to paint. He was ready to lose himself in something that didn’t have to do with business—or that woman. Because that woman was beginning to crawl knee-deep beneath his skin and John wasn’t quite sure he liked how that felt at all.

As she’d been doing every evening before retiring for the night, Juanita Hilton dialed the private number she’d been dialing for months. As it rang, she couldn’t help but think back on everything that had happened over the course of the evening. When Edward answered his line she was anything but happy with him.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Edward.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I told you that you need to tell the girls about us. Poor Marah. That child looked like she was ready to cry.” She paused as the man drew a deep sigh on the other end. “What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know, Juanita. When John extended the invitation I just thought it would be as good a time as any for Marah to see us together.”

“This was not the proper way for you to introduce me to your child.”

“You’re right. I should have warned her first.”

“Yes, you should have.”

“Do you still love me?” Edward asked, his voice dropping low on the other end of the telephone.

Juanita giggled, the length of her gray hair waving from side to side. “Don’t be silly, Edward Briscoe. Of course I still love you.”

The man smiled through the receiver, the brilliance of it seeming to flow over the line. “Good, because I love you, too.”

“Do you have any plans for dinner on Thursday?” he asked, shifting his body against the pile of pillows atop his bed.

“I would love to have dinner with you,” Juanita responded. “Are you asking me?”

“I am. In fact, I would be honored if you would come have dinner here at the house with me and my family. I would like to introduce you to my children.”

“Are you sure about that, Edward?”

The man nodded as though she could see him. “It’s past time, Juanita. I’ve asked you to be my wife. I don’t want to keep our relationship a secret any longer.”

The woman nodded slowly. “I would love to meet your children, Edward.”

“Thursday, then.”

“Thursday it is. Sweet dreams, Edward.”

Chapter 6

“Seventy-five percent of all new businesses fail in the first five years,” Eden Briscoe was saying just as the telephone began to ring.

Marah rolled her light eyes toward the ceiling as she reached for the telephone receiver. “And where did you get those statistics?” she asked as the phone rang for the second time, vibrating against the palm of her hand.

Eden pointed to one of the many business start-up books lying atop the new oak desk. Before she could say anything else, Marah picked up the call.

“Thank you for calling The Post Club!” she chimed sweetly, her professional tone just shy of seductive. “This is Marah.”

“Hello, this is Marah. This is your big sister!” The voice on the other end laughed warmly. “I was just calling to check up on you. Wanted to make sure you’re not storming any business meetings this morning.”

“You’re so funny, Marla. What did you really call for?”

“I just wanted to make sure you and Eden remember that we’re all having dinner at the house with daddy this week. I think something’s up. He’s reminded me three times this morning and he said a friend of his will be joining us.”

“It’s probably that Juanita woman. Did you know about her?”

Marla went quiet on the other end.

Marah’s expression was incredulous. “You knew and didn’t tell us?” she exclaimed loudly, catching Eden’s eye.

“Well, I wasn’t sure, but I know the two of them have been spending a lot of time talking back and forth on the telephone. I just thought maybe it might have been about the ranch,” Marla said.

Marah shook her head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Marah. You can be so dramatic sometimes.”

Marah bristled. “Here,” she said, tossing the phone to Eden. “Talk to your sister. I’m not speaking to her anymore.”

Eden pulled the receiver to her ear and said hello. The duo chatted briefly as Marah pretended to pout from her desk on the other side of the room. Eden laughed, her gaze skating from Marah down to her desk and back again. When all was said and done, she nodded as if Marla could see her through the telephone. She then heaved a deep sigh. “All right. Well, I’ll see what I can do with her before then.”

“It’s always a pleasure, big sister. Tell my twin I said behave and we will see you two soon,” Marla concluded before disconnecting the line.

Eden dropped the receiver back onto the hook.

“What was that all about?” Marah asked, leaning forward in her seat.

Eden shook her head. “Nothing yet. Your sister was just trying to help, is all.”

Marah nodded and laughed. “She’s your sister, too.”

“That has yet to be proven.”

“Where does that leave me then?”

Eden shrugged. “In the same boat with your look-alike.”

Marah shook her head as Eden changed the subject.

“Marla’s concerned about how you’re going to act when we meet Daddy’s friend.”

“Did you know about that woman, too?”

“Marla told me that he was becoming friendly with someone. I didn’t know anything else.”

“And neither one of you told me?”

“Marah, you always blow things out of proportion. We didn’t know if anything was happening between them or not and we were waiting for Daddy to say something. Now that he is, we should all support him.”

“I’m not supporting that, Eden.”

“Why? Don’t you want Daddy to be happy?”

“Do you really think some other woman can make Daddy as happy as our mother did?”

Eden blew a deep sigh. “I think Daddy has the right to decide that for himself. I also think that he should be able to trust that his daughters are going to let him decide what’s best for him.”

“I’m sure she’s a very nice person, Eden. But I don’t need a new mother. And neither do you and Marla. I bet this plan to sell our home is all her idea. She’s probably scheming Daddy along with the rest of them.”

“Just try to be nice, Marah. Okay?”

Marah shrugged her shoulders, pushing her thin frame skyward. “Whatever. I don’t want to discuss this anymore,” she said, no longer pouting for pretend.

“Fine. So, what’s first on the agenda today?” Eden asked

Looking down to her watch, Marah took a swift inhale. “You’re going to be late if you don’t get a move on it. You’re doing the Marvin Wheeler Show this afternoon so you need to get over to the radio station.”

“Me? Why me?”

“You’re better at that sort of thing than I am.”

Eden looked stunned, her mouth hung open. She stared at her sister. “I swear!” she finally exclaimed, rising from her seat. “Do you know the failure rate for businesses that aren’t organized?”

“We’re organized. And I made the executive decision that you’re doing promotion this week. So get moving. I’m meeting with John Stallion at three.”

Eden raised a curious eyebrow. “So what’s that about?”

“I just want him to get a taste of the ranch from my perspective.”

Her sister shook her head. “You’re not going to let this go, are you, Marah?”

“No, and I’m thinking that a distraction or two might be all we need to get them Stallions looking for land elsewhere. Besides, what do they want ours for? Like Dallas needs another skyscraper,” Marah said facetiously.

Eden grabbed for her leather handbag off the top of the desk, her head waving from side to side. “Just try not to hurt the man, Marah.”

Marah feigned ignorance. “Whatever do you mean, sister dear?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Don’t make Daddy mad, Marah.”

Marah sucked her teeth. “I’m just going to run a little interference that’s all, Eden.” She glanced at her watch a second time. “You better run or you’re definitely going to be late.”

Heading for the door, Eden tossed her sister a look over her shoulder. “Just for the record, I get to be the executive next week. You just remember that,” she said with a soft chuckle.

Marah winked. “That’s a deal. Go get ’em!” she said, laughing. She watched as Eden swept out of the small office, muttering under her breath the whole time.

Following Eden into the interior of the club’s intimate front lounge, Marah’s gaze swept around the room, admiring the newly renovated space. The Post Club had been their brainchild. The concept had come when the two of them were mulling over the fact that neither had a man or even the prospect of a man in her life. Marah remembered the moment as if it had happened just last night instead of four years ago. Marla had just married Michael Baron, her high school honey. Marah and Eden had been sitting in the den of their family home, bedecked in emerald-green satin bridesmaid’s gowns bemoaning their woes into flutes of very expensive 1995 Dom Pérignon Rosé.

Eden had just come out of a bad relationship. Marah hadn’t had a relationship for so long it was as if she’d not known what one was. The two had laughed and cried, happy about Marla’s joy and dismayed by their own situations.

“We should start our own dating consulting service,” Marah had said in jest.

“We could do that,” Eden had responded. “Maybe it would solve our own personal problems and help a few other women out along the way.”

From that moment on the idea had evolved, starting with the letter-writing service—where they offered men and women help in reviving the ancient art of penning love letters—and then expanding into a service that connected letter writers, one with the other. Before either of them knew it, with some hundred-plus love connections made, twenty-seven marriages and twelve babies produced from the unions, they’d outgrown Eden’s dining room table and were in need of larger space to expand their services. It hadn’t helped that during that time Eden had met Jack Waller. When the two married, Eden and Jack were happy to run the business out of their new house.

That’s when Marah came up with The Post Club, a private lounge where the privileged few could meet, greet and take their seduction skills to a whole new level. Leasing the pricey loft space in downtown Dallas had been their father’s idea, Edward Briscoe’s many business connections affording them first dibs on the prime real estate. Located on the twenty-fourth floor, the plush accommodations gave them an expansive view of shiny, new Dallas, with upscale restaurants, shops and one gorgeous glass-and-steel tower after another. Marah loved that she could stand in the center of the room and see the Fairmont Hotel, the Dallas Museum of Art, Lincoln Plaza and the Trammell Crow Center through the expanse of glass that walled the interior space. What she loved more was being just minutes away from the family ranch with its rustic down-home feel. For her there was great beauty in being able to leave one world for a whole other as the moment moved her.

However, with everything they’d been able to accomplish, Marah herself had not made a love connection of her own. Four years later and she still rarely had a date worth talking about. A fact that her sisters and father were fond of reminding her of.

The telephone ringing pulled at her attention as she engaged the Bluetooth headset she had clipped behind her ear.

“Thank you for calling The Post Club! This is Marah.”

A man’s deep voice resonated on the other end. “Marah, hello. This is Victor Tomes. How are you?”

Marah bristled, a chill rolling up her spin. She forced herself to smile. “Very well, thank you, Victor. How about yourself?”

“I need some help, Marah. I’m taking a close friend to Paris with me for the weekend and I want to send her something special.”

“How special is special?” Marah asked, an annoyed expression crossing her face.

“Just enough to pique her interest for the weekend, but not too over-the-top in case I get tired of her by Monday,” the man replied nonchalantly.

Marah shook her head. Some men made her sick, she thought to herself. “Do you want a full-fledged letter or just a simple note card?’ she asked, trying to hide the annoyance that had risen in her tone.

“Do you have something in between?”

“I think I can come up with something for you. And I think a bouquet of fresh flowers would be appropriate, as well.”

“I can do roses.”

“No, definitely not roses. Roses are very personal. They signify long-term relationship.”

“Oh, heck no!” the man exclaimed. “That is surely not the message I want to send.”

“Well, I suggest something exotic, instead. Birds of paradise, I think. They’ll show intrigue and seduction.”

Marah could sense the man nodding over the other end. “You know best,” he said, his enthusiasm seeping over the phone line. “You have my credit card number on file. Just charge me, please. And send the card and flowers to my office. They’re for my secretary, Pamela.”

“Pamela?” Marah shook her head. Just last month Pamela had been calling on Victor’s behalf. Calling to order love letters for some woman in London and another in Memphis. The man clearly got around. “I’ll take care of everything,” she concluded, her head waving from side to side in disgust.

“You’re my girl, Marah,” the man responded before ending the call.

“Thank the good Lord I’m not close to being your girl,” she said out loud as the call clicked off in her ear.

Marah heaved a deep sigh. She still had errands to run before her meeting with John Stallion. There were also a million things she needed to do to prep for the week. There was the Art of Fellatio class she was expected to teach, then later in the week they were hosting a speed dating night—forty men and forty women had already signed up to do three-minute, round-robin dates in hopes of meeting the perfect partner. There were two letter-writing seminars and a weekend retreat on the Nuances of Seduction as well. It was a good thing she was going to be busy, Marah thought as she headed for the exit, because she needed anything and everything she could find to keep her mind off her father, his new girlfriend and that man.

Edward was giving instructions to one of the ranch hands when Marah sauntered to his side in the middle of a regulation-sized dressage arena. The needed repairs on the stadium fences in the jumping arena were finally being completed and Marah blew a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to make a complaint about it again. Her father winked in her direction as he finished his conversation and sent the hired help on his way.

“What brings you out here this afternoon?” Edward asked as they made their way in the direction of the stables.

“I’m meeting John Stallion.”

He cut an eye in her direction, then nodded slowly. “He’s a good man, John is.”

“So you’ve said before.”

“Have I?”

Marah chuckled. “You know you have.”

Her father laughed with her. “So what are you two meeting about?”

“The ranch.”

Her father paused and Marah took advantage of the moment to try and plead her case.

“Daddy, he’s coming here because I’m hoping to convince him not to buy this ranch. We don’t need a new mall down here and this is our home. I don’t think you realize just yet what you’ll be losing.”

Edward stopped short, tossing Marah a look she couldn’t read, his expression one she’d not seen before. He studied her momentarily before he opened his mouth to speak.

“Your mother loved this ranch. She devoted her whole life to this place. I loved your mother and so I devoted my whole life to her and what she wanted.” The man blew a deep sigh before continuing. “I’m tired, munchkin. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t have any more of myself to give to this ranch and I don’t feel like I have to do it anymore now that your mother is gone.”

“But, Daddy…”

“But nothing. This part of my life is over. You might not like it but you’re going to have to accept it. I’m selling this ranch and if it’s not to the Stallions, then it will be to someone else. This place was your mother’s dream, Marah. I’m ready to go live my own dreams.”

“And do your dreams include that woman?” Marah asked, snapping unnecessarily.

“Watch you tone, young lady,” Edward admonished. “You ain’t that grown.”

Marah dropped her gaze to the ground, contrition spreading across her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“I know what you meant. And yes, my dreams now include Juanita. She’s very special to me. And I hope that you and your sisters will make a genuine effort to get to know her.”

Marah suddenly felt like she wanted to cry but she didn’t, willing the flush of saline not to fall from her eyes. Her father reached out a callused palm and lightly caressed the side of her face.

“Munchkin, your mother would be proud of you and she would want you to make your own dreams. Your mother loved life. She lived a good one. She would want you to do the same thing.”