Thief of My Heart

Love can steal your breath away...

Psychologist Desiree Gaines diagnosed Decker Riley the day they met. Her opinion: he’s a sexy smooth-talker who loves the thrill of the chase. It’s only when he stops pursuing her that Desiree realizes she may have misjudged him. For the first time since she lost her fiancé, Desiree is intrigued...and scared she might be walking into heartache once again.

Now that Desiree has stepped out of his wildest fantasies and into his arms, gorgeous attorney Decker knows one thing: she was well worth the wait. Their physical connection is deep and undeniable. But Decker’s past makes Desiree doubt herself, so he’ll have to earn her trust, one sweet, sizzling kiss at a time...

“Don’t be coy, Desi. You know you’re sexy as hell.”

“I know I have an unsettling effect on some men, but it’s been a long time since I used my sexual mojo on anyone. I’m a bit rusty.”

She hadn’t denied she was sexy. That made him respect her more. He liked that she accepted who she was and didn’t try to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

“You have my permission to practice on me,” he said with a confident smile.

That was when she went on tiptoe and kissed him on the mouth. He had to admit, the move took him by surprise, but only for a second or two. Then it was on. For the longest time, he’d been wondering what it would feel like to kiss her. Now he knew. It was bliss itself. Her lips were full, juicy and sweeter than anything he’d ever experienced before. Her breath mingled with his and created an airborne aphrodisiac. Honestly, she tasted like heaven, a feast for a love-starved man who’d just been invited to an all-you-can-eat buffet. He had to force himself to hold back, because damn, the woman had made him wait forever for this kiss.

Dear Reader,

I never know how a couple is going to interact with one another until I start writing about them. Desiree and Decker truly surprised me. Decker brought out her playfulness. Desiree brought out his desire to be her hero and protector. I had fun getting to know them. I hope you will, too.

If you’d like to let me know what you think of their story, you can email me at [e-mail], write me at PO Box 811, Mascotte, FL 34753-0811, look me up on Facebook, or send me a message via my website, janicesims.com.

Happy reading!

Janice

Thief of My Heart

Janice Sims

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JANICE SIMS is the author of over thirty titles ranging from romance and romantic suspense to speculative fiction. She won an Emma Award for Favorite Heroine for her novel Desert Heat. She has also been nominated for a Career Achievement Award by RT Book Reviews, and her novel Temptation’s Song was nominated for Best Kimani Romance Series in 2010 by RT Book Reviews. She lives in central Florida with her family.

This one is for my cousin, Cathy Johnson.

Cathy, your enthusiasm for life has always inspired me. Besides that, if you hadn’t made me put down a book I was reading (bookworm that I am) and go shopping with you on that fateful Saturday many years ago, I never would have met my husband!

Acknowledgments

Working with the staff at Mills & Boon is always a pleasure. Rachel Burkot, my editor, helps to keep me focused. Caroline Acebo keeps me on schedule. And a special shout-out to the art department for a very cool cover! Just look at it. The model is exactly how I pictured Decker Riley as I was writing his story. The background and the couch he’s sitting on are nice, too. :o)

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgments

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

Copyright

Chapter 1

Decker Riley strode into the busy sports bar in downtown Raleigh, North Carolina, and looked around. Six-three and fit, he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to shake off the stresses of the day. His dark gray eyes scoped out the ladies in the establishment. A couple of beauties showed some interest. He smiled, they smiled back. Maybe next time, he told himself as he continued walking.

Suddenly he heard “Decker, over here!” from across the room. It was his cousin, Colton Riley, gesturing for him to join him. Decker smiled as he made his way through the crowd of Friday night revelers. It had been a few months since he, Colton, Juan and Will had gotten together. As he got closer, he saw that they had gone home after work and changed into casual clothes while he still had on his suit slacks and shirt. He’d left his tie and jacket in the car. Each of his three closest friends was married now, and things had changed between them. They had new responsibilities that didn’t include hitting the clubs with their pals, or doing anything remotely fun like the way they used to, in his opinion. Sometimes Decker felt it was only a matter of time before they stopped making an effort to get together at all.

He sighed. That was probably his general dissatisfaction with life talking. Some part of him wanted what they had: a solid, loving relationship with a woman. He was thirty-four and had never been that lucky.

It was March, and March Madness was in full swing. The big-screen TVs at both ends of the huge room featured college basketball teams warring for a place in the NCAA’s Final Four.

“What’d I miss?” Decker asked as he sat down at the table and accepted a mug of beer from Colton.

“Kentucky just kicked Michigan’s butt,” Juan Medina, a Mexican-American in his late twenties, said with a pained expression on his face. Decker knew that Juan was a fan of the Michigan Wolverines.

“Sorry, man,” he said. “Maybe next year.”

“Where’ve you been?” Colton asked as he moved the platter of chicken wings closer to him so he could partake of what was left.

“Tough day in court,” Decker said, reaching for a boneless wing. He popped it into his mouth and chewed, relishing the spicy morsel. “So, how’s life been treating you guys? Wives still got you whipped?”

They all laughed with the ease of friends who mercilessly teased each other on a regular basis. “You wish you were whipped like us,” Colton said, gray eyes knowing.

Decker winced inwardly. His cousin had hit the nail on the head. “I’m perfectly happy dating different beautiful women every week. I’m not ready to have a ring put through my nose.”

“That depends on who’s putting the ring in it, my friend,” Will Simpson, a tall African-American in his early thirties, said. “I bet if Desiree Gaines offered you a ring, you’d gladly let her put it in and lead you around by the nose.”

“Don’t mention that woman’s name,” Decker said defensively. “She’s my one failure. She broke my perfect record.”

“Let’s keep this in perspective,” his cousin said. “Desiree is an angel compared to the woman whose name we really dare not mention out of respect for your stomped-on heart.”

“We’re not going there,” Juan said, grinning. “Back to Desiree. Come on, man. She crushed your record! Not only will she not go out with you, she won’t even accept your flowers. How many times has she sent your flowers back now, ten, twenty times?”

“I’m wearing her down,” Decker claimed with more bravado than he felt. “No one can resist this forever.” He pointed to his face and preened, which only elicited groans of disgust from his less than appreciative audience.

“Maybe you’re going about it the wrong way,” Will suggested. He inclined his bald head in the direction of a group of young women gathered around the bar, chatting and giggling. “What do you see when you look at a pretty woman?”

Decker hesitated because Will tended to be a philosopher. He asked harmless-sounding questions, but he was rarely satisfied with simple answers. “Is this a trick question? What am I supposed to see, Will? I see an attractive face and body.”

“Then you’re not looking deeply enough,” said Will. “Every woman has a distinct personality. You can’t use the same old methods of seduction on every one of them. Desiree doesn’t respond to a player. So you’ve got to figure out what she wants and give it to her.”

Decker looked at Will and shook his head in exasperation. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

“Get her into bed,” Colton deadpanned.

“Eventually, yeah,” Decker said, turning to face his cousin, who could have been his brother they looked so much alike. Both of them were tall, with reddish-brown skin, dark brown hair shorn close to well-shaped heads and the Riley gray eyes. “But I really care about her. Would I still be trying to get her to go out with me after almost two years if I didn’t care?”

“I don’t know,” Colton said. “Maybe it irks you that she’s holding out, and now it’s become important to you because you can’t bear to lose. You’ve never been a good loser, Decker.”

“I know you’re married to her sister, but could you be on my side in this?” Decker asked plaintively. “I’m beginning to think it’s your opinion that I’m not good enough for your sister-in-law!”

“Uh-oh,” Will said in anticipation of a fight erupting between the cousins. “Keep the comments civil, fellas.”

“It’s not a question of your not being good enough for Desiree,” Colton said levelly. “I know you’re a decent man. But Desiree doesn’t, and you’re not giving her the room to observe you and come to that conclusion on her own. My advice is to quit sending her flowers and quit calling her altogether.”

Decker frowned. “Did she tell you to talk to me? Is that it?”

Colton shook his head and sighed impatiently. “No, no one asked me to talk to you. But I’m doing it anyway. Leave her alone and let her miss you, Decker. Who knows? Maybe she’ll miss the water when the well runs dry. Let’s face it, at this point she’s taking your attention for granted. Take it away, and see what happens.”

Decker let Colton’s words sink in. His cousin could be right. He had tried everything in his considerable arsenal to get Desiree to go out with him. Cards, flowers, emails and numerous messages left on her answering machine. And the only explanation he could get out of her as to why she wouldn’t go out with him was the fact that she’d been in love once and her fiancé had died. She was, in essence, still in love with a man who had been dead for ten years. How was he going to compete with that?

He smiled regrettably at his cousin and said, “I’ve tried everything else. I don’t suppose taking your advice could hurt.”

“Unless, of course, it backfires and she’s happy that you’re giving up,” Juan joked.

“Man, why’d you have to go there?” Will asked. “Now you’re gonna make him doubt himself even more than he already does.”

“No, he’s right,” Decker said quickly. “There is the possibility that this will backfire. But at least I’ll know for sure that she’s never going to consider dating me, and then I can move on. That woman has had me in a holding position for too long. I haven’t dated another woman in over a year because of her. I’m going to qualify for sainthood soon.”

His friends got a good laugh out of that assertion, after which Colton said, “I don’t think there’s a chance of that happening.” Then he gave his cousin a serious look. “So, what’s your plan?”

Decker pursed his lips, thinking. “I’m going to send her one last bouquet tomorrow with a message that will state my case once and for all.”

Colton smiled his agreement. “One last attempt, huh?”

Decker nodded. “And if she sends them back, I’m moving on.”

There were solemn looks all around the table, true friends sympathizing with the plight of one of their own having to suffer through a case of unrequited love.

“Women can be so heartless,” Juan said, shaking his head sadly.

“We’re the real romantics,” Will said, just before downing the rest of his beer and burping.

“But you know what Adam said when God gave him Eve,” Colton put in with a smile. “Thank you, Lord. She’s way better than apples!”

“Amen!” Decker said, laughing.

* * *

“Desiree, will you slow down?” Lauren Gaines-Riley complained loudly as she and her sisters jogged in a Raleigh park on Saturday morning.

Desiree glanced back at her older sister and grinned. “Nobody told you to party all night with Colton.”

The day was bright and clear, the temperature in the low sixties. Lauren squinted at the sun before saying, “If you’re going to party with anyone all night long, it should be your husband.”

Desiree and her sisters got together every Saturday morning to exercise and catch up with each other’s lives. Desiree, thirty-one, was single and a psychologist with a private practice. Lauren, thirty-three, was an architect. She was married and had a small son. The baby of the family, Meghan, twenty-seven, was single and a history instructor at a local university. The only sisters missing were Mina, twenty-nine, who ran a lodge near the Great Smoky Mountains, several hundred miles away, and Petra, thirty-two, a zoologist presently studying the Great Apes in Central Africa.

Desiree laughed. She observed the puffiness of Lauren’s eyes and the haphazard way she’d piled her thick black hair atop her head this morning. Lauren was usually put together for every occasion. “Yes, but he could at least let you get your rest afterward. You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

“I’ll have you know these dark circles under my eyes are well worth a sleepless night with my man,” Lauren said, laughing, too.

“Let’s not start talking about sex,” Meghan protested. The shortest of the sisters at five-six, she had recently cut off her long black hair and now wore it in a sophisticated bob. “Let’s talk about hair, as in do you like my haircut?”

“I was trying not to say anything,” Lauren said, peering at her sister’s haircut with a critical eye. “I hope you don’t regret it like I did when I cut mine off a few years ago. Long hair can be more trouble to keep up, but it has so many more styling options. I didn’t know what to do with my short hair.”

“That’s because you were so used to long hair,” Desiree said. “I loved my short hair.”

“Then why are you letting it grow out?” asked Lauren reasonably.

“Because I think I look more intelligent with longer hair,” Desiree said.

Lauren laughed harder. “You have a doctorate in psychology. What does hair length have to do with intelligence?”

“We look on the outside how we feel on the inside,” Desiree said. “Haven’t you ever wondered why everyone has their own sense of style? Everything we wear, how we style our hair, it all depends on how we feel about ourselves. I think I look smarter with my hair in a bun. That’s how I wear it when I’m in session. Looking intelligent makes my clients more confident in my ability to help them.”

Lauren sighed loudly. “Wearing your hair up has no effect on your ability to help your clients. Your dedication coupled with your education and your willingness to give of yourself to everyone who comes to you for help is what makes you a good psychologist, my dear sister!”

“We all have little behaviors we rely on to make it through the day,” Desiree said. “You, for example, have a habit of rubbing your left earlobe when you’re thinking hard about something.”

“I do not!” Lauren cried, brown eyes sparkling with humor.

“Yes, you do,” Meghan confirmed. She looked at Desiree. “What mannerisms do I have?”

Desiree grinned at her. “You have a habit of shaking your leg nervously when you’re sitting at the dinner table. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you tend not to close things after opening them. You leave drawers open, cabinet doors, closet doors. When we were living at home with Mom and Dad, I used to go behind you, closing things. It drove Mom mad, but I don’t think she ever caught you at it.”

Meghan laughed heartily. “No, you’re wrong, I know I have that problem, but I still can’t shake it. I’ll go behind myself to this day and close things hours after I’ve left them open.” She looked at her sister with admiration. “That’s why you became a psychologist. You’re very observant of people.”

“That and the cute boy she wanted to meet, who happened to be taking Psychology 101 at the time,” Lauren quipped.

Desiree frowned, remembering how she had fallen in love with Noel Alexander her freshman year while sitting behind him in Psychology 101. He was tall and well built with the most beautiful milk-chocolate skin and dark brown eyes. She had been so in awe of him, she couldn’t bring herself to walk up to him and introduce herself. If they hadn’t accidentally bumped into each other one day while entering their classroom, they would never have met. Once Noel looked into her eyes, sparks flew and they were inseparable from that day forward.

“Why’d you have to bring him up?” she asked Lauren irritably. “I’m trying to forget I ever knew that creep.”

Desiree picked up her pace. But her older sister was soon at her side again.

“You need to talk about it,” Lauren said.

She and Meghan flanked Desiree.

Desiree sighed deeply and rolled her eyes. “I already told you two what happened.”

“Yes, but it’s been over a week now, and you haven’t said how it makes you feel,” Meghan said gently. “Finding out the man you loved, a man you idolized, cheated on you, must make you feel something!”

“And the way his mother just blurted it out in the middle of the cemetery like that,” Lauren put in. “After ten years of keeping his son a secret! Come on, Desi, that must have pissed you off.”

“Of course it pissed me off,” Desiree said angrily. “What really irks me about it is I don’t believe she would have told me at all if Noel Jr. hadn’t been with her, and I immediately saw the resemblance between him and Noel. I think it was the look in my eyes that made her spill her guts. But what am I supposed to do about it, go cuss out a dead man?”

“Why not?” Lauren asked reasonably. “We’ll go with you and make a party of it. We’ll go at midnight and burn candles on his grave. And after you’re finished cussing him out, we’ll toast your new beginning with champagne.”

“So that’s it,” Desi said, looking at Lauren suspiciously. “You think this is going to throw me into a depression.”

“You did have that man on a pedestal for ten years,” Meghan reminded her. “Whenever some other guy got too close to you, you would whip him out as the perfect example of fidelity and true love. No other man could compare to him. Now that you know he wasn’t perfect, you must be regretting those lost years.”

“Damn right I regret them. But I can’t blame Noel for that. I was the one who chose to hide behind him in order to avoid relationships. I understand that about me.”

“Then why won’t you give Decker a chance?” asked Lauren.

“Because dating Decker Riley is just asking for trouble,” Desiree said. “That man is sex personified. Noel was good-looking, but he didn’t compare to Decker. If Noel could rip my heart out with his behavior, Decker will eviscerate me.”

“I never took you for a coward,” Lauren said. Her expressive brown eyes held a challenge in them.

Desiree knew that look well. Her big sister had been goading her into action all her life. This time she was not going to take the bait. “Well, where he’s concerned, I’m a coward!”

Then she sprinted ahead of her sisters. And since she was by far the fastest runner in the family, she left them in her dust.

Chapter 2

As was his habit, Decker personally went to the florist’s to choose the flowers he wanted Desiree to receive. He picked a spring bouquet because whenever he saw her, she was always turned out in the most appealingly feminine way. And it had not escaped his notice the past two years that pink was her signature color. She wore it in deep shades. She wore it in paler shades. It complemented her coppery brown skin, making it appear more beautiful than it already was. He thought about all this as he was running the wilderness trail he frequented on weekends. It was only a short drive from his neighborhood, the wooded surroundings were calming and the air out here reminded him of the mountains, which he loved.

He glanced down at his watch. It was almost noon. He was nearing the end of his run, and he could see the secluded parking area up ahead where he’d left the SUV. There were more cars there now than when he’d gotten here. He slowed his pace until he was walking, which allowed his heart rate to return to normal before it would be time to get into his car and drive home. As he walked to the SUV, he wondered what Desiree had thought when she read the card. Would she think he was giving her an ultimatum? If so, that hadn’t been his goal. He had just wanted her to know he cared for her, but he also knew when to throw in the towel. Now the ball was in her court.

Stoicism aside, though, he truly hoped she would call him, as he’d requested. If only his appeal had gotten through to her.

* * *

When Desiree got home from the park, there was a beautiful bouquet of spring flowers on the foyer table. She paused only a moment to appreciate their beauty.

She didn’t linger over them because she knew who they were from: Decker. She had nothing against Decker, but Noel’s infidelity was still too fresh in her mind for her to take any pleasure from them, or the sweet sentiments he invariably included in his notes. She resolved to ignore Decker Riley. Refused to even read the note. Then she headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Mrs. Neale, her housekeeper, had left a message for her on the dry-erase board on the wall next to the fridge. “Accepted flower delivery for you. Have you got a new beau?”

Desiree laughed at Mrs. Neale’s comment. Honestly, why was everybody so eager to see her with a man? First her sisters, now Mrs. Neale. She was perfectly fine by herself. All she needed was to stay so busy with work and physical activities that she wouldn’t have time to obsess about Noel, or dream about Decker’s sexy gray eyes.

She was looking forward to her karate work-out with John next week. That usually helped to calm her and focus her thoughts.

* * *

“I’m older than you, so go easy on me,” John Tanaka complained as Desiree’s foot came a bit too close to his head while they were practicing karate in his basement. The room had been transformed into a large space for exercising. Atop the wooden floor was a thick rubber mat, and it was on this surface that they were going through their paces, each of them barefoot and attired in a gi, the lightweight two-piece garment common to martial arts, with black belts tied around their waists.

They faced each other again, in fighting stances, bouncing on the balls of their feet, each trying to figure out the other’s weaknesses. In the past hour they’d worked up quite a sweat.

“Sorry,” Desiree said, not breaking her concentration. John was not only her sensei; he was her therapist. They’d met three years ago at a psychology conference, and in the course of their conversation, they’d learned they were both into karate. John had learned the discipline from his father and practiced the Japanese style of the martial arts. Desiree had wanted to learn from him, so she suggested they try a practice session. Once they got on the mat, they knew they were compatible. It was John who suggested they give each other free psychological sessions while they worked out, killing two birds with one stone. So while they worked out their physical bodies, they also worked out their emotional problems.