Take Me

Just have sex with me, Jessie thought, aching to say the words to Joshua

Keep it impersonal. Please. Ha, fat chance. Jessie was getting more than she’d bargained for when she’d taunted the devil into making love to her.

“Finish it,” Jessie whispered. He had already devoured every inch of her body with his mouth, teeth and tongue. She was wet with need.

“Patience.” Joshua smoothed her hair back from her damp brow, his eyes softer than she had ever seen them. “I want to look at you. You’re so beautiful and damned responsive. The perfect mistress.”

Yes, Jessie thought, an odd twinge pinching her heart. That’s what I am, a mistress. A business arrangement. Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want. A fair trade…

Jessie tugged at his shoulders until his heavy, welcoming weight covered hers. She reached down, her fingers closing around his hard length. It felt thick and long, silky and…alive. “I want you deep inside me,” she begged, not at all sure her body could accommodate him now that she felt the size of him.

“It’ll fit just fine, sweetheart. Trust me,” Joshua murmured, and Jessie realized she must have spoken her thought aloud.

Then with a hoarse cry he slid into her slick heat…and Jessie was lost.

Dear Reader,

What fun I had writing my first Blaze novel! I’ve been reading, and loving, these sexy, sensual books since they first hit the stands. And longed to try my hand…um…imagination at one of my own.

Joshua Falcon is The Glacier. Who could love a man as cold as ice? He doesn’t believe anyone can. Consequently, emotion has no place in Joshua’s life. But sex does! He’s a busy man, so his affairs are brief, expedient, torrid and mutually pleasurable.

Jessie Adams wants more from Joshua than his body. And she’s prepared to risk anything to get it. Once she has her heart’s desire, she’ll be on her way, thank you very much. Neither of them will be hurt, because both will have gotten exactly what they want from their affair…. Or will they?

Through sexual indulgence, Joshua and Jessie find the one thing they were missing in their lives. Love.

I hope you enjoy reading Jessie and Joshua’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’d love to hear from you. Come visit my Web site at cherryadair.com or e-mail me at [e-mail].

Happy reading.

Smooches,

Cherry Adair

P.S. Don’t forget to check out tryblaze.com!

Take Me

Cherry Adair

MILLS & BOON

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To my friends at Delphi TDD with love.

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And I treasure you all.

CBD

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Prologue

“MARRY ME.”

“Excuse me?” Jessie Adams narrowed her eyes at the stranger sitting in the back booth of the diner. He hadn’t finished his first cup of coffee before he’d beckoned her back to his table.

And she thought she’d heard it all. Marry me? Oh, brother!

Outside, rain slashed in sheets across the midnight-dark parking lot, empty save for his low-slung silver sports car. Diamond drops of rain peppered his dark hair and the broad shoulders of his black wool coat. The neon café sign in the fogged window sputtered, illuminating his face.

Lord, he’s a hunk. And a welcome diversion tonight. It had been a lousy day. Week. Month. Jessie sighed. This too shall pass. She’d read that somewhere and hoped like hell it was true.

Briefly she fantasized that Prince Charming had come in for the singular purpose of sweeping her off her feet. That his proposal was for real. Unfortunately the way her luck had been running lately he was a mugger after her last twenty bucks and the take in the cash register.

She gave him another surreptitious once-over. In truth, she was like the cartoon dog chasing the car. What would she do with him if she actually caught him? The thought made her smile.

“Well?” he demanded.

“Well, what?” Jessie tried not to drool. He smelled so good she wanted to snuggle up to him, close her eyes and just inhale.

“Will you marry me?”

Be still my heart. “Is it Thursday?”

“Friday.”

“Sorry, I only marry total strangers on Thursdays.” She topped up his coffee. “You’ll have to wait ’til next week.”

“Next week is too late.” His pale gaze sharpened on her face, slid lower to her flat chest, skinny legs, then shot upward. “What the hell happened to your hair?”

Jessie’s hand rose self-consciously to the over-processed orange-yellow blotched clump. “I dyed it.” In the hope blondes had more fun. Ha!

“Whatever you were aiming for—”

Didn’t work. “I like it,” Jessie snapped. Her chest felt hard, heavy and tight. He was a stranger. Why did she care what he thought of her hair? “Drink up. We close in twenty minutes.” Thoughts of midnight reminded her of more pressing problems. The two-week notice to vacate her studio apartment had four days left. So far, she hadn’t found anything else affordable. She’d move to Sacramento or Tahoe. If she had more than twenty-seven dollars to her name. If her mother’s boyfriend hadn’t shown up and swiped her car. And if she—

“You’re perfect.” The man’s sexy drawl stopped her from turning away. “I have a proposition for you.”

I just bet you do. “Listen, pal, my feet hurt, I have to finish my shift, and as much as I’d like to sit and schmooze, I have to clean the kitchen before I go, so if you don’t mind…”

“Hear me out—”

Jessie wrote his ticket and slapped it on the table. “If you want more coffee, help yourself.”

There wasn’t much to do in the spotless kitchen. Other than a couple of truckers at dinner, she’d been alone all night, which meant zilch in tips. Jessie finished loading the dishwasher, then turned to see the guy, hands in the pockets of his coat, standing in the kitchen watching her.

She knew exactly what this sophisticated man saw. She was no beauty. She was too thin, and if she was ever going to get boobs, she hoped it was before she was old enough for them to sag. Her mutilated hair was scraped away from her face and piled untidily on top of her head like orange and yellow straw. All she had going for her were her eyes. Some trucker had once told her they looked like cow eyes. She wasn’t so sure it was a compliment, but at least he’d been sincere.

“How old are you?”

“Boy, you’re persistent. Has anyone ever told you no?”

“One too many times. How old?”

Jessie tilted her head and eyed him with undisguised curiosity. He appeared rich, spoiled and used to getting his own way. He had beautiful hands. Long, strong, tanned fingers with clean, shiny nails. Jessie always noticed hands.

She automatically hid her bitten nails behind her back. “Twenty…five.”

He laughed. It sounded rusty. “Nice try, honey.”

“Twenty-one.”

“Legal.”

Jessie backed up against the refrigerator as he strolled toward her. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance of anyone coming in at this hour of the night. He could do anything to her, and no one would know. She flinched when he touched her face. She really shouldn’t have been sarcastic last week when the car had been stolen and she’d asked God, “What else can happen?” God didn’t like sarcasm. It was Jessie’s curse. She sighed. She supposed this guy was better than being struck by lightning.

“Perfect.” He turned her chin this way and that, his hand warm on her skin. He smelled even better close up. Jessie’s mouth actually watered. Instinctively, she understood he had no sexual interest in her, no need to control or dominate. Her heart wasn’t pounding because she was afraid of him…not very anyway.

“How about this, pal? I give you ten seconds to take your hands off me, or I call the cops?” His hand dropped, but the ghost of his light, warm touch lingered on her skin. “What do you want from me?” Jessie asked hoarsely.

“I want you to marry me. Now. Tonight. We’ll drive into Tahoe, get married and I’ll have you back in time for your next shift.”

“You’re crazy!”

“I’m desperate,” he countered, voice grim.

Who isn’t, pal? “Why me?” Jessie slid out of his reach and walked back into the brightly lit diner. He was right behind her. He grabbed a mug off the stack behind the counter and followed her back to his table by the window.

What on earth was a guy like this doing here? The diner wasn’t his kind of place. The only reason people stopped here at all was that it was right on the California border into Nevada. The small coffee shop mirrored a million others across the country. Red vinyl seats, worn down by a million butts, beige Formica tables scarred by cigarette burns, tacky Christmas decorations. The invasive smell of grease and food had permeated the plastic plants hanging in dusty profusion from toggle hooks in the yellowed ceiling.

Jessie tried to ignore the décor. Sometimes she physically ached for beauty. For stability. For some damn thing that couldn’t be conned, stolen or sweet-talked from her.

She wasn’t opposed to working, but it would be nice to get a break for a change. Unfortunately she wasn’t delusional enough to believe a total stranger would stroll into the diner two days before Christmas and sweep her off her worn tennies and lay all that at her feet.

“I’ll make this short and sweet.” The stranger took the carafe out of her hand and motioned her to the opposite seat, then filled both cups and placed the coffeepot in the neutral territory between them. Intrigued in spite of herself, Jessie flopped down on the scarred vinyl seat.

“This is purely a business proposition.” He raked his fingers through his dark hair. It fell neatly back in place. Figures. “Here’s the situation. My father and his brother owned a development company. My father died ten years ago, he left the company to my uncle Simon with the understanding his half would in turn go to me. I’ve worked my ass off while my cousin Paul gallivants around the world doing God knows what. That company is fifty percent mine. I’ve earned it, damn it. Now Simon wants to retire, but he insists Paul and I settle down before he gives his company to a couple of ‘playboys’—his quote. My uncle, in his infinite wisdom, has decided Paul and I should settle down and get married.”

Jessie’s eyed him skeptically. “For real?”

He nodded curtly. “Unfortunately, yes. To top it all off, the first one to marry gets controlling shares. Simon is obsessed with this ludicrous notion.”

“So, what’s the problem? A good-looking, rich guy like you must have a gazillion women to choose from.”

“I asked someone,” he said tightly and with obvious reluctance. “She said yes—to my cousin.”

Jessie cradled her forgotten mug between her hands. “Ouch. There must be someone else you cou—”

“They’re getting married in San Francisco tomorrow at noon. Our meeting up tonight is going to work out to both our advantages. I’m sure you’d like financial freedom. Do whatever you like? Go anywhere? Sure you do. And all I want is a contract marriage. I’m not interested in emotional entanglements. I don’t want a real wife, I want a wife on paper. Now. Tonight.”

He glanced down at her 34A chest and her name tag. “Marry me, Vera. I’ll give you a monthly allowance for as long as you live. Hell. I’ll buy this damn diner for you if you want it.”

Jessie stifled an hysterical laugh. Her name tag had been left over from the last waitress, and she hadn’t cared what people called her. “I don’t want the diner.” Just looking at him made her silly heart do summersaults.

“Listen, having control of this company means everything to me.” His eyes glowed pale and determined. “Surely you’ve wanted something this badly in your life?” He leaned forward. “Do this for me, and when the time comes, if there’s something you want more than your next breath, I’ll make it happen. You have my word on it.”

“Anything, huh?”

“Anything.”

Lust at first sight. The attraction she felt for this man was undeniable. But then what was not to attract? He was unbearably handsome, strong, powerful, wealthy and, most dangerous of all, he needed her. The attraction was obviously not reciprocated in the least. However, Cinderella hadn’t complained when her prince whipped her out of the kitchen.

“How do I know you’re on the level?” Oh, please, be serious.

He pulled a business card from his wafer-thin leather wallet and a cell phone from his overcoat pocket. “Here’s my lawyer’s card. Call him, confirm who I am, ask about my uncle’s ultimatum.”

Jessie took the card. She was nuts, she was crazy, she was out of her mind for even considering his proposition…. What did she have to lose?

She reached for the phone and began punching in the numbers before she thought to ask, “What’s your name?”

“Joshua Falcon.”

The man on the other end of the phone was not happy to be woken by a lunatic stranger at midnight. Jessie stumbled through enough questions to confirm that Joshua Falcon was who he said he was, and was richer than Croesus.

The lawyer wanted to talk to Mr. Falcon. Right now. Jessie handed him the phone and slumped back, openly eavesdropping.

Watching her, he spoke into the phone. “You’re damn right I’m serious.” He listened for a while. “In a diner on the California-Nevada border.” He looked over at her, his pale eyes narrowing. “Why wouldn’t she? She’s probably getting minimum wage and living in a cramped apartment with her cat. I’ll fax a copy of the marriage license and bring the original to your office later.” There was a short pause. His laugh made Jessie shiver. “No honeymoon. I’ll have her call you back to make arrangements for the settlement.”

Joshua listened. “No need for sarcasm. She’s worth more than her weight in gold. Oh, and Felix? Call Simon as soon as you get my fax.” There was a long pause as he listened. “All right,” he agreed with some reluctance. “Take the Lear and meet us at the courthouse in Reno at nine. You can hand deliver the marriage certificate to my uncle.”

He folded the compact phone and stuffed it into his pocket.

“I don’t have a cat.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said I don’t—”

“That was rhetorical. Get your coat,” he said, impatiently buttoning his own. He tossed a twenty on the table.

“I don’t have a coat, either.”

“You don’t have a coat?”

“Gee, is there an echo in here?”

Scowling, he removed his coat and tossed it to her. “Put this on and let’s get this over with.”

“Wow, you certainly know how to bowl a girl over with sweet talk.” The wool coat smelled of him. It was thick and dark, and held the scent of potent male and fresh citrusy cologne. Jessie’s insides turned to mush. She had that standing-on-the-highest-diving-board feeling. Exhilarating, thrilling terror.

“Christ.” He watched as she turned off lights. “I must be more tired and desperate than I thought.”

Jessie froze with the keys in her hand. “Listen, bub, I didn’t come in here on my knees begging you, did I? Make up your mind.” The keys dug into her soft palm. “Well?” She glared at him. “Do you want to marry me or not?”

He looked down at her. “God help me. Yes.”

AT 9:45, Joshua slapped the marriage certificate into the hands of his lawyer, Felix Montgomery.

At 9:46, he walked out of the courthouse.

He did not look at Jessie once.

Prince Charming didn’t even kiss the bride.

1

December

Seven Years Later

PARTY GUESTS, dressed in holiday finery, ebbed and flowed through Simon Falcon’s home. From a safe distance, Jessie watched her husband scan the festive throng with pale, bored eyes. Born to wear the stark black tux and crisp pleated shirt, every immaculate inch of him screamed wealth and bone-deep self-confidence. With his aristocratic features and go-to-hell eyes, he was like a king surveying his kingdom. And the dangerous edge of his sex appeal was universal enough to make every female head turn.

Seven years hadn’t changed him. But she’d changed considerably. No way would Joshua recognize the woman he only knew as his absentee waitress-wife, Vera. And only she knew her sophistication was nothing more than a thin patina. Her standards were now extremely, and friends told her, unreasonably, high. So be it. She was perfectly content with her life just the way it was, thank you very much. There was only one thing she wanted from Joshua Falcon.

Their marriage had given him control of Falcon International. Now it was her turn to get something she desperately wanted from their marriage.

More than anything on earth, Jessie wanted a child.

And Joshua was going to make that dream come true.

He’d promised to give her whatever she wanted more than anything else in the world.

Now she was collecting.

A couple of months ago Jessie had instructed her lawyer to inform her husband she was ready to make her request. Joshua had complied immediately. He’d offered to pay for the insemination process at the in-vitro fertilization clinic of Vera’s choosing.

Jessie wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to do. But sending her off to a clinic to accept some stranger’s donation wasn’t it! The whole point here was that she wanted her husband’s baby.

The good news was he obviously had no interest in children, nor did he want anything to do with any progeny. Which was fine and dandy with Jessie. What he didn’t want, he wouldn’t take away.

She squared her shoulders and took a fortifying sip of wine. Exhilaration made her heart pump harder. She resisted the urge to run her hands over her hips to make sure the silk jersey wasn’t bunched anywhere, then righted the circlet of holly she’d woven into a wreath for her hair. Feeling like a gunslinger checking his holster, she choked back a laugh.

The smile died on her lips as she caught Joshua’s gaze, holding it, although it took every ounce of her newfound sophistication to do so. Her chin lifted a notch and she saw his lips twitch. Their eyes locked as he started across the room toward her. Blood pounded in her ears. Forty feet…thirty feet…don’t talk to him, lady!…eighteen feet…

Joshua was taller, fitter, better looking than any other man in the room. Her heart pounded so hard she barely felt the individual beats. Everything about him assaulted her senses as he moved inexorably toward her. Adrenaline raced in effervescent bubbles through her bloodstream. The wine was tasteless as she took a gulp then held the cool glass against her hot cheek. Sixteen feet…

Simon almost gave her heart failure as he came up beside her and circled his arms around her waist. She hadn’t noticed his approach. He kissed her cheek. “You look like a Christmas angel in that red dress, honey. What are you staring at so intently— Oh, Joshua’s here.”

“Stay, Simon.” Jessie held on to his arm like a life-line. “Just long enough to introduce us, okay?”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Jessie?”

She’d fibbed to Joshua’s uncle, only telling him half her plan. Her laugh sounded strained even to her own ears. “No.”

For seven years she’d imagined making love with Joshua. She’d dreamed about it. Longed for it. Ached for it. Every time she read about him, either in the business section of the newspaper or a sleazy tabloid, Jessie had wished she were the woman on Joshua’s arm. In his bed.

She’d tried unsuccessfully to banish her husband from her mind and heart while putting her nose to the grindstone in the intervening years. She’d finished high school, gone to college, all the while carefully managing to avoid him. Until tonight.

Now there was method to her madness.

The physical attraction she was experiencing was as powerful, as terrifying now as it had been all those years ago in the diner. Lust made her mission easier. And if the feelings were reciprocated…

It had taken forever, yet, in a second, he was right there within touching distance. His cologne was more subtle, more sophisticated, than she remembered, but the base scent, the essence of the man, remained. She’d never felt more female in her life as Joshua’s hot gaze burned through the thin silk of her dress to the pulsing skin beneath.

“Simon.” Joshua greeted his uncle, his voice low and husky, his eyes on Jessie.

“Joshua.” Simon sounded atypically jovial as he clasped his nephew’s hand. “How’re you doing, son?”

“Introduce me to the lady.” Joshua watched the sunrise of a blush paint her cheeks as he allowed the heat of his gaze to travel slowly from her lush mouth to her eyes and back to her mouth. A cloud of dark, Raphaelite curls framed her face and drifted about her shoulders as she looked up at him. Her brows, dark and silky, formed a gentle arch above eyes of sparkling chocolate brown.

Joshua had reluctantly accepted Simon’s heavy-handed invitation to the Christmas party. He didn’t do Christmas. For a second when he’d spotted the dark-haired beauty beside his uncle, he’d imagined she was Simon’s surprise. Considering every surprise he’d ever had at this time of year was a bad one, and familiar with his uncle’s wily manipulations, he’d almost turned around and driven up to his cabin in Tahoe as he did every year during the holidays.

He felt sufficiently mellow to wait his uncle out. With her supple, slender body, she was enough of an inducement to make him stay. For now. Her subtle fragrance teased him. A holly wreath nestled in her dark hair. Her skin looked smooth and pale against the flame-red floor-length gown. The matte fabric covered her from throat to ankle in a sensuous sweep, without showing so much as a panty line.

He felt a rush of heat as her small breasts shifted with her breathing. She was doing her damnedest to appear unaffected, but the lady was as aware of him as he was of her.

Joshua felt the familiar adrenaline rush for the start of the chase and wondered if she, too, was thinking of tangled sheets and sweat-dampened skin.

“Jessica Adams, my nephew, Joshua Falcon.”

Her name was familiar. “You’re the interior decorator my uncle’s always talking about. You do good work.”

A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Thanks. Simon and Patti are always a pleasure to work with.”

And she’d be a pleasure to have in his bed. “Go away, Simon,” he told his uncle without looking at him. Jessie’s mouth curved slightly as she observed him maneuvering his uncle. Joshua couldn’t remember reacting so explosively to a woman in his life. The shiny strings of the tiny Christmas balls in her ears tangled in the darkness of her hair. She rubbed her wineglass against the pulse pounding at her throat.

He used every vestige of control to keep from tossing her over his shoulder caveman style and dragging her to his lair.