Bachelor Undone

He tried to push the thought from his mind that while he’d been sitting on the sofa, whether she knew it or not, he had been fighting desire; desire for her that had all but seeped into his bones.

Why on earth would he be attracted to her of all women?

Before he’d gotten up to her room tonight he’d been approached by a couple of women who’d all but invited him to their hotel room. One had brazenly offered to give him a blow job right there in the elevator. He hadn’t wanted any of them. But he did want this one. This haughty-looking female, who had his blood firing through his veins, who was staring him down and standing in front of him looking as sexy as any woman had a right to look in a bathrobe.

He glared down at her when the room got too quiet for his taste. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I won’t. Now, goodbye, York.”

At that moment, something inside of him snapped. She was glaring at him, yet earlier tonight she’d been smiling at someone else. Not only had she been smiling, but she’d also flirted with the man. “You like pushing my buttons, don’t you, Darcy.”

“Yes,” she said smiling. “Gives me great pleasure.”

“No, this is pleasure.” And then he reached out, pulled her to him and captured her mouth with his.

Dear Reader,

Please envision six men who, for various reasons, are members of the Bachelor in Demand Club, and are determined to stay single for as long as they can. With each book I write in this series, I am having fun making each man open their hearts to love when the right woman comes along.

Bachelor Undone is York Ellis’s story, and his leading lady is Darcy Owens. Both York and Darcy are strong-willed individuals who think they know what they want, and who stubbornly refuse to admit their true heart’s desire is to want each other. York has his own agenda and Darcy has hers, but they soon discover that what the mind sometimes refuses to accept, the heart ultimately will.

I hope all of you enjoy reading York and Darcy’s story.

Happy reading!

Brenda Jackson

About the Author

BRENDA JACKSON is a die “heart” romantic who married her childhood sweetheart and still proudly wears the “going steady” ring he gave her when she was fifteen. Because she’s always believed in the power of love, Brenda’s stories always have happy endings. In her real-life love story, Brenda and Gerald, her husband of thirty-nine years, live in Jacksonville, Florida, and have two sons.

A New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than eighty-five romance titles, Brenda is a retiree from a major insurance company and now divides her time between family, writing and traveling with Gerald. You may write to Brenda at PO Box 28267, Jacksonville, Florida 32226, USA; e-mail her at [e-mail] or visit her website, www.brendajackson.net.

Bachelor Undone

Brenda Jackson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr.

To all the family, friends and dedicated readers.

This one is for you.

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear;

but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

—II Timothy 1:7

Prologue

Spending her vacation in New York during the month of December was not on Darcelle Owens’s list of things to do, which was why she was in a cab headed for JFK International Airport. She loved living in the Big Apple, but when forecasters had predicted the city’s coldest winter ever, she was glad she had plans to get the hell out of Dodge.

Jamaica, here I come, she thought relaxing back in her seat. While her coworkers would be battling the snow, she planned to be lying half-naked on the beach under the heat of the Jamaican sun. And then at night, she’d become a sophisticated hooch and let her hair down, party and even do a little man-hunting. She deserved it after working her tail off the past two years.

She had the whole month of December off and would have loved to spend the entire time in Jamaica. But her parents expected her to come home for Christmas, as usual. She got a chill in her bones just thinking of returning to Minneapolis for even a little while.

She’d always hated cold weather and would have headed south to attend college if her parents hadn’t convinced her of how much money they could save not having to pay out-of-state tuition. When she talked to her mother just that morning, it was twenty below zero. Brrrr.

And then her best friend Ellie Lassiter expected her to spend a few days with her at her lake house in North Carolina before Ellie and her husband Uriel’s New Year’s Eve bash.

Darcy planned to keep her family and Ellie happy, but first she intended to relax in the warm weather for at least three weeks.

Darcy cringed when she heard the chime of a text message on her cell phone. How dare her younger brother Prescott teach their mother how to text! Darcy bet between her, Prescott and her older brother Jonas that their mother, Joan Owens, sent out over one hundred text messages a day. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating a tad bit, but it would seem about that number.

Checking her phone, Darcy smiled when she saw the message hadn’t come from her mother after all. It was from Ellie.

Behave yourself in J. Have fun. E

Darcy chuckled and quickly texted back. Can’t behave myself and have fun, too. LOL.

Got Bruce with you? the responding text asked.

Darcy’s smile widened. Bruce was the name she’d given her little sex toy. Nope. Left Bruce behind this time. I hope to get lucky and find someone who’s looking to have some fun. Looking forward to relaxing, reading and replacing Bruce with the real thing.

She wasn’t surprised when within seconds of sending that message her cell phone rang. Of course it was Ellie. “Yes, El?”

“And just what do you mean by that?” her best friend asked.

Darcy threw her head back and laughed. “Just what I said. It’s time Bruce goes into retirement. He’s earned it.”

“Girl, you’re awful.”

“No, I’m not. If I was awful, I wouldn’t have gone without being in a relationship for two years. If it hadn’t been for Bruce and my romance novels, I don’t know what I would have done to keep sane.”

And that was so true. She had moved from Minneapolis after taking a job as a city planner for New York City. Over the past two years, she had been working day and night trying to prove the city hadn’t made a mistake by hiring an outsider.

She had worked hard and hadn’t taken any time off other than the recognized holidays, which was why she had accumulated so much vacation time. And now she intended to enjoy it. It was the end of the year, and her boss had warned her to “use it or lose it.” The only thing she planned to lose was two years of abstinence.

“Chill, El,” she said when there was silence on the other end. “I’m taking plenty of condoms with me if that makes you happy.”

She glanced up and saw the elderly cabdriver looking at her looking in the rearview mirror. Oops. She couldn’t do anything but smile. She lowered her head and whispered into the phone. “Look, you’re going to get me in trouble, El. The cabbie heard my remark about condoms and is looking at me funny. Like he thinks I’m a loose woman or something.”

“Nobody’s fault but your own for saying what you did.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Whatever. Go and have your fun, but be careful, stay safe and you better have a lot to tell me when you get back.”

Darcy felt giddy all the way to her toes. “Trust me, I will. I intend to become one of the heroines in those romance novels I enjoy reading so much. And I got this hot pink bikini with the word seduction written all over it.”

Darcy then clicked off the phone and glanced out the cab’s window. It had started snowing. She drew in a deep breath thinking she couldn’t get to Jamaica fast enough.

York Ellis, former NYPD officer and present-day security expert, felt adrenaline flow through his veins. It was always that way at the start of a new case, and from the sound of things, this one would be a challenge. As far as he was concerned, anything would top the last case he had protecting the horse who’d won the Kentucky Derby when rumors of a horse-napping had begun circulating.

He glanced across his desk at Malcolm Overstreet, renowned director and screenwriter. Malcolm was there to represent a group of New York filmmakers whose movies were getting put on the black market before they got the chance to be released to theaters. This was causing the filmmakers enormous loss of profits and almost forcing them into bankruptcy. In this case, the actual movie footage was being sold while the production was still in process. Certain scenes were even appearing on the internet.

On top of that, idle threats had been made against the making of a controversial movie. Malcolm wanted York’s firm to find out who was behind the bootlegging as well as handle the security for the movie.

York had enough people working for him to do the latter, and as far as finding out who was involved in advance footage being released to the public, he figured with the right plan in place that should be easy enough.

“Have you ever considered the possibility this might be an inside job?” he asked Malcolm. He could tell from the man’s expression that he hadn’t.

“We have good people working for our production company,” Malcolm said. “If we lose money, they lose money.”

Not necessarily, York thought. “When does the movie continue shooting?” he asked.

“Next week in Jamaica,” Malcolm responded.

York nodded as he jotted down a few notes. He knew the film was a controversial biography on the life of Marcus Garvey, the black civil rights activist from Jamaica. And he knew it would depict a side of Garvey that some didn’t want told—which was the reason for the heightened security while they were on the island. “Has any current cast or crew member worked on your last couple of movies?”

“Yes, we usually hire the same crew for all our productions. Some of them have been with us for years, and it’s hard to imagine them being a part of anything illegal.”

“What about your cast?”

“Johnny Rush is my leading man as Garvey, and Danielle Simone is my leading lady as his love interest. But you can scratch them off the list,” Malcolm said confidently.

York lifted a brow. “Why are you so sure?”

“Their egos. Both are too vain to want their work anywhere other than the big screen, trust me. They think having their work out on the black market is an insult to their talent. In fact, the only way they would agree to work with Spirit Head Productions again is if we assured them their work will not be undermined and hit the streets before a premier date.”

“What about Damien Felder?” York asked, glancing down at the papers on his desk. “I’ve noticed his name has shown up on probably every production you’ve done.”

Malcolm nodded. “You can mark Damien’s name off the list as well. He’s my line producer, and a cut in our profits slashes into his bank account as well. He has nothing to gain from our movies appearing on the black market. If another one of our movies gets bootlegged, we’ll be filing for bankruptcy.”

Malcolm then leaned forward. “I believe whoever is behind things will try and get the footage sometime while my cast and crew are shooting the final scenes in Jamaica. And I want you to make sure that doesn’t happen, York. My partners and I are sick and tired of losing money that way. It’s not fair not only to us but to every person who has a stake in the production.”

The man paused and then added, “And then there’s this threat on Rush. Some think he fabricated things for publicity, but we can’t take any chances.”

York closed his notepad. Malcolm and his group were heavy hitters who could open the doors to even more business for York’s security firm. But more importantly, it was the principle of the thing. Someone was breaking the law and cutting into the profits—actually outright stealing them—and they were profits they didn’t deserve.

He knew one of the main reasons Malcolm had come to him was because Malcolm was a friend of his father’s. Malcolm had also attended Morehouse College as a young man along with York’s father and five godfathers before getting a graduate degree from Columbia University Film School. “I understand, and I intend to fly to Jamaica immediately and find out who is behind things.”

Malcolm lifted a brow. “Will it be that easy?”

York met the man’s gaze with an intense look. “No, but once I establish my cover, I’ll be a regular on set and I can keep an eye on what’s going on. And the six men and three women working for me are the best of the best. Rest assured, whoever is behind this has messed with one of your productions for the last time.”

Chapter 1

Darcy stood on the balcony and glanced out at the beach. It was hard to believe this was her third day in Jamaica and she was just getting out of her hotel room today for the first time. She, who rarely got sick, had gotten a stomach virus her first day and had stayed in her hotel room in bed. What a bummer of a way to start off her vacation.

The good thing was that today she was feeling like her old self again, and she intended to spend as much time outside as she possibly could. She had lost two valuable days, but from here on out it was full steam ahead.

When she had checked in, the hotel clerk had given her a list of the hotel’s activities for the week, and tonight they would be hosting a classy beach party. Her health had improved just in time. A party was the last thing she wanted to miss.

She turned away from the window and crossed the room to glance at herself in the full-length mirror. She had purchased the wide-brimmed straw hat from a gift shop at the airport, and the sundress she was wearing had caught her eye the moment she’d seen it at Macy’s over the summer. At the time, a trip to Jamaica had been just a fancy, and in a way, it was hard to believe she was actually here.

Instead of donning a bikini and lying on the beach today, she thought she would take a tour of the island and get some sightseeing in. She had purchased a new digital camera and intended to put it to good use. And she definitely intended to do some shopping. When she had visited Jamaica a few years ago—a college graduation present from her parents—she had purchased several pieces of jewelry that had been handcrafted by an island woman. Darcy intended to see if the small shop near the pier was still there. There were several more pieces she would love to add to her collection.

She glanced around the room. Since she would be here for three weeks she’d decided to get one of the residential suites, and she loved it. It was huge and spacious, and although it was costing her a pretty penny, it was worth it. Besides, she deserved it.

The furniture in the sitting area was elegant and the decor colors of cream, yellow, mint green and plum perfectly reflected an island theme. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one wall and provided a balcony view of the water.

French doors led from the sitting room directly into the bedroom, which had its own balcony. There was nothing like waking up to the beauty of the Caribbean Sea. But it was the bathroom that she’d found simply breathtaking. It had a dressing room area and a closet large enough to camp out in if the need arose. Then there was the humongous Jacuzzi tub that could hold several couples if you were inclined to get that kinky … which she wasn’t. She wasn’t into sharing of any kind when it came to relationships.

Grabbing her purse off the table, she headed for the door. It was a beautiful day, and she planned to spend as much of it as she could outside. Then she would return and take a shower and a nap before getting ready for the party tonight.

York walked along the pier. It hadn’t taken any time to get his game plan in place and head toward the island. Jamaica was beautiful, but unlike all the other times he came to the island, he was here for business.

Regardless of what Malcolm thought, every member of the cast and crew was a suspect. His team had divided the list, and every single person was being checked out. He was hoping it wouldn’t take long to expose the culprit since he planned to spend the holidays back in the States. His parents had moved to Seattle a few years ago and luckily didn’t expect everyone to show up on their doorsteps for the holidays. In fact, as long as he could remember, once he and his siblings began having lives of their own, his parents would spend the holidays in Toronto, visiting friends they had there. Usually York would spend a quiet Christmas at home, and those times he wanted company, he had five sets of godparents he could visit.

Most people knew the story as to how six guys who’d met and become best friends while attending Morehouse had on graduation day made a pact to stay in touch by becoming godfathers to each of their children and that the firstborn sons’ names would carry the letters of the alphabet from U to Z. And that was how Uriel Lassiter, Virgil Bougard, Winston Coltrane, Xavier Kane, York Ellis and Zion Blackstone had come into existence. He was close to his godparents and godbrothers and couldn’t imagine them not being a part of his life.

He checked his watch. A couple of his men had checked in already with their reports, and it was obvious Malcolm didn’t know some of his people as well as he thought he did. However, there was nothing to indicate any of them could be suspected of anything other than engaging in a number of illicit affairs.

York glanced around and saw he was the object of several women’s attention. He didn’t mind, and if he’d had the time, he would even indulge their fantasies. He was well aware that a number of women came to the island alone to get their groove on. They were man-hunters who were only looking for a good time.

He kept walking. He was on assignment, and there wasn’t a woman he’d met yet who could make him take his mind off work.

Darcy squinted against the brightness of the sun while moving from shop to shop in Montego Bay. Reggae music seemed to be playing just about everywhere. Pausing, she pulled out her sunglasses to shield her eyes from the sun. It was hard to believe how bright it shone here when, according to weather reports, it was still snowing in New York.

She stopped at a fruit stand, admiring the basket of strawberries, all plump and ripe, when something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.

A man.

And boy, what a man he was. She could only see his profile, but even from almost fifteen feet away she could tell he was a fine specimen of the opposite sex. He was in a squatting position, going through a rack of T-shirts that some peddler was trying to sell him.

Darcy tilted the sunglasses a little off her eyes to get a better view, deciding she didn’t want to miss anything—especially the way the denim of his jeans managed to stretch tight across his thighs. And the way his shoulders filled the shirt he was wearing.

He stood up a little and his tush—OMG, it was definitely the kind a woman would drool over. She bet they were perfect masculine cheeks, firm and fine.

Her mind began working, and she immediately began seeing him as a hero from one of the romance novels she read. But which one? she asked herself, thumping her finger against her chin.

She immediately thought of Jansen Trumble, the bad boy from the spicy novel Mine Until Morning. That had been one hot book, and even after reading it at least four or five times, she would give just about anything to have a rumble with Trumble. She settled her sunglasses back on her eyes thinking if she couldn’t have the fictional Trumble then a look-alike would have to suffice.

“Miss, would you like to try some of my strawberries? I just rinsed this batch off. I bet you’d like them.”

Her attention was pulled momentarily away from the gorgeous hunk when an island woman offered her a tray of fresh strawberries, sill wet from a recent rinsing. “Thanks, I’d love to try one.”

She popped a strawberry in her mouth, immediately enjoying the taste when the sweet flavor burst on her tongue. It was wet, juicy and so delicious. That made her glance back over at the man. Now he was standing to his full height as he continued to consider the T-shirts. He was tall, and she could see just how well built he was.

She tilted her head, thinking there was something about him that was oddly familiar, although she had yet to see his features. Like her, he was wearing sunglasses. His were aviators. And even from a distance she could tell he was an American. He had chocolate colored skin, and his dark hair was cut close to his head.

“Delicious, miss?”

She glanced back at the woman and smiled, remembering they were talking about the strawberries and not the man. “Yes, definitely delicious.”

“Would you like another?”

Darcy chuckled. She hadn’t intended on being greedy but since the woman asked … “Yes, I’d love another.”

She put another strawberry into her mouth, and when she glanced back over at the man, she saw he was staring over at her. Facing him, she immediately recognized him and almost choked on the strawberry in her mouth.

York Ellis!

Even wearing sunglasses she would know him anywhere. The shape of his mouth and his chiseled jaw would give him away each time. What the heck was he doing here?

She felt irritation invade her entire body. Staring into his handsome face did nothing to calm her rising anger. Her best friend was married to one of his godbrothers, so they were usually invited to the same family functions.

She and York always managed to rub each other the wrong way whenever they would run into each other. Things had been that way between them since the time they’d met at Ellie and Uriel’s wedding two years ago. During that time, her ex-husband Harold had tried threatening her to take him back. York had tried coming on to her at the reception. She had been in a bad mood at the time and had rebuffed his advances. Evidently he hadn’t taken rejection well.

He removed his sunglasses and stood staring across the way at her, evidently as surprised to see her as she was to see him. She felt her body get hot under his intense stare but forced her emotions to stay in check. She certainly couldn’t be that hard up for a man that she would be attracted to him.

And this wasn’t just any man. It was York Ellis. He was arrogant. Cocky. Too damn sure of himself at times to suit her. So why was she having such a hard time dragging her gaze from him? Why instead was she allowing her eyes to roam all over him, taking in how well he fit his jeans, his shirt? And then, there was his looks …

So, okay he had a nice looking mouth, one that was shaped just for kissing and those other scandalous things mouths could do. And his eyes were dark, so compelling and so magnetic. And at the moment, those dark eyes were intent on staring her down.

His half smile told her he knew she was checking him out and evidently found it amusing, considering their history. Anyone who’d ever hung around them knew they had one. He rubbed her the wrong way, and it seemed she always managed to rub him the wrong way as well.

He continued to smile, and she tried to ignore the fact that doing so made the angular plane of his face more pronounced, made dimples slash deep in his cheeks. This was the first time she ever noticed them. But then this was the first time he’d smiled at her.