Shameless

“By the way—” Nell’s voice followed him “—you’ve got company waitin’.”

“Company? Who—” The back door slammed and Jimmy had no choice but to find out who his guest was for himself. He popped the tab on his beer and headed for the partially open study door. It was nearly ten at night, and the sidewalks in town rolled up at five. Who in the world—

She was sitting on his desk, her long legs stretched out, her three-inch red stilettos tapping an impatient tempo.

Jimmy smiled as his gaze shifted, skimming up slim calves, shapely knees and thighs that disappeared beneath the edge of her black leather coat. A coat? In July?

Green eyes met piercing blue as Deb Strickland got to her feet, her hands going to the belt that held the edges of her coat together. Jimmy’s grin faltered.

“So, are we going to do this, or what?” Deb asked in a husky voice.

Before he could reply, the edges of the coat fell open and Jimmy got an up close and personal view of the woman who’d haunted his nights for the past year.

Only this time, the woman was real. And she was here, she was naked and she was his.

For the next two weeks, anyhow.

Dear Reader,

Writing books for the Blaze miniseries is like a dream come true for me. I love hot, intense stories that aren’t afraid to push boundaries and explore the sensuality buried deep down inside all of us. I’m thrilled to be back this month, and next, bringing you two steamy reads that feature the wickedly handsome Mission brothers.

For those of you who read my first Blaze novel, Breathless, you might recognize bold, passionate Texas bad boy, Jimmy Mission. He’s back, and he’s hot on the trail of city gal, Deb Strickland. Jimmy and Deb are the least compatible people in Inspiration, Texas. The trouble is, they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. When they decide an affair will sate their mutual lust, the result is nothing short of shameless….

Next month, get set for another Texas bad boy. When Jack Mission returns home to Inspiration, he promptly turns prim and proper Paige Cassidy’s life upside down. Divorced from a man who swore she could do nothing right, Paige is on a major self-improvement kick. And sexy, restless drifter Jack Mission is just the man to give her lessons in love. Look for Restless in August 2000.

For those of you who wrote asking for Deb and Jimmy’s story, I hope you enjoy Shameless. I truly appreciate your encouragement and excitement!

Happy reading,

Kimberly Raye

P.S. I’d love to hear from you! You can write to me c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9, or visit me on-line at www.kimberlyromance.com.

Shameless

Kimberly Raye

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For my mother, for always being there.

You’re the best!

Contents

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Prologue

HE TASTED as good as he looked.

Warm. Wicked. Hungry.

Firm lips flavored with a hint of raspberry—as if he’d just had a drink at the nearby refreshment table—ate at hers, nibbling, coaxing, taking their own sweet time despite the swarm of carnival goers and the line of men, dollar bills in hand, who waited behind this tall, delicious cowboy for a kiss of their own.

Yes, there were more men to kiss, more dollars to be had. Inspiration’s only elementary school needed new books for the library. A worthwhile cause, and the main reason Deb Strickland, owner and editor of the small Texas town’s only newspaper, had agreed to man the kissing booth in the first place. That and the fact that she had a bad reputation to uphold, even if it was all fiction and little fact. No healthy, single, red-blooded, dare-anything city gal would turn down the chance to play lip lock with the town cuties.

Cute being the operative word. As in nice, friendly, like the widower Mitchell from the feed store who gave her a stick of gum every time she stopped by, or Marty from the diner who gave her extra French fries on her lunch plate, or Paul from the gas station who blushed every time she looked at him. “Filler” men in the big newspaper of life.

This guy qualified as a lead story.

He’d looked the typical cowboy with his straw Resistol, faded denim shirt and jeans and dusty brown boots. But there’d been nothing typical about his bright green eyes, as vivid as a stretch of rich pasture on a summer day, or his full sensuous lips that had curved into a teasing grin just as he’d stepped up to her in the booth. He was blond and beautiful and hot. Definitely hot.

She wondered briefly why she hadn’t seen him around before. She’d been living in Inspiration for over six years now and she made it her business to know every handsome man within a fifty-mile radius—a self-proclaimed wild woman always knew the available pool of men even if she didn’t get her feet wet.

She was drowning now, she realized, lost in a wave of heat and passion and him. He sought a deeper connection, and Deb did something she hadn’t done since she’d taken her place in the booth. She opened her mouth and kissed back.

His tongue stroked and teased hers and everything faded. The whirrr of the cotton candy machine, the ding of the Shoot-n-Hoop, the whine of a Tammy Wynette record blasting at the cakewalk next door.

Her thoughts centered on the mouth melding with hers, the strong hand cupping the back of her neck, the callused thumb stroking the curve of her jaw, the five o’clock shadow that rasped her tender skin.

Mmm…. The tantalizing scent of leather and sawdust and sexy male filled her nostrils and kicked up her heartbeat. Her nipples sprang to life, pressing hungrily against the lace of her bra, wanting…just wanting. Heat pooled low in her belly, spreading, licking at the insides of her thighs the way his tongue licked at her mouth.

Her body hummed and heat sped along her nerve endings until she burned and ached, and at nothing more than his kiss. His touch. Him.

“Hurry it up!”

“We ain’t got all day!”

“Give another fella a chance!”

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the voices finally pushed past the pounding of her heart and tugged her back to reality, to the smell of popcorn and the cry of a fiddle and the all-important fact that her hands were gripping the table edge, her knees were trembling and her lips were locked with a total stranger’s, and all in front of an impatient audience.

Not a stranger, a small voice whispered, a sense of familiarity creeping through her. As if she’d known him before.

Crazy.

She was crazy. And her hormones were desperate. For all the men in town who’d claimed to have scored with “Daring Deb,” few had ever made it past first base. It had been a long time since Deb had felt a man’s touch.

Too long, she thought as she pulled away and concentrated on gathering her composure, which wasn’t nearly as easy as it should have been. Not with him so close, his green eyes fixed on her, mirroring her own disbelief, as if he also was stunned by the past few seconds.

Say something, her brain screamed.

I really liked that. Can we do it again?

And again?

And more?

“Here,” was all she managed as she handed back the dollar bill he’d given her.

He glanced at the money. “What’s this for?”

“I should be the one paying you.”

He grinned and the sight was almost as heartstopping as his kiss. “I think the kids need it more than I do.” He placed the dollar into her palm and curled her fingers around it, his skin brushing hers, setting off a wave of tingles that shimmered through her and made her nipples throb. “Speaking of kids.” He glanced at his watch, a frown sweeping away his dimples. “I’m due at the dunking booth right about now.”

“You’re a volunteer?”

He nodded. “Maury Hatfield suckered me into sitting in his oversize fish tank for an hour.”

“At least you’ll be getting wet for a good cause,” she managed, her lips still vibrating from his kiss. She blew out a deep breath and wiped a trickle of sweat from her temple.

“Hot?” His eyes twinkled and she knew he wasn’t just talking about the weather. More like lips touching and tongues dancing and her body responding….

“You can’t even imagine.”

His strong fingertip caught the slow glide of perspiration down her neck and slid up, over the curve of her jaw. “Oh, I think I can.” His thumb swept her still trembling bottom lip. “Damn straight I can.” His voice grew huskier, deeper, meant for her ears alone. “Meet me at the dunking booth when you’re done here, Slick, and we’ll see what we can do about cooling off.” Then he gave her a slow, lazy wink and disappeared into the crowd.

Slick. The word registered in her head, pulling and tugging at a long ago memory, of a shy, quiet fourteen-year-old who’d come to spend yet another summer vacation with her granny.

Deb had treasured those times with her granny Lily. The few precious days when she’d been able to eat and sleep and breathe without asking permission. To smile and pretend that all was right with the world, that her last name wasn’t Strickland and her future wasn’t already mapped out for her.

She hadn’t known it at the time, but that fourteenth summer would be her last in Inspiration for a while, and her most memorable. Particularly one hot July day when she’d been in town shopping. Granny had gone into Shelly’s Boutique while Deb had lingered outside the Mr. Freeze, struggling with the strap of one of her new sandals, a low-heeled, hot pink number she’d bought behind her ultraconservative father’s back.

“Hey, Slick. You just gonna stand there, or you gonna put those fancy shoes to good use and come on in?”

Her head had snapped up. Her fingers faltered on the leather strap as her gaze collided with a pair of deep, green eyes. The owner, maybe seventeen or eighteen, was the stuff teenage fantasies were made of with his crooked smile and tall, athletic body. He held the door open for her. Music and laughter drifted from inside the ice-cream shop, enticing her as much as the boy’s smile. Almost.

But Deb had lived with her father’s rules much too long to be seduced that easily. She managed to shake her head.

“That’s a shame.” He grinned. “Maybe next time.”

And then it had happened. Her first wink from a real boy, and not just any boy. The boy.

“Jimmy Mission,” she murmured as her pounding heart came to a shuddering halt.

Deb had moved to Inspiration six years ago to discover Jimmy, town golden boy and star running back for the local high school, had joined the marines right after graduation. Other than the occasional brief visit to his folks, he’d never looked back. Thankfully, because at that time Deb hadn’t needed the added complication of facing the one and only man who made her feel like that shy, insecure fourteen-year-old she’d been so long ago.

But that girl was history. She’d buried her insecurities, her past. Now she was bold and brassy Deb Strickland. Independent. In control. Completely immune to men like Jimmy Mission with their easygoing, cowboy charm.

Or so she’d told herself when she’d heard he’d come home a few months back, just days after his father had passed away. Since then he’d been running the ranch, caring for his grief-stricken mother, and, rumor had it, looking for a wife.

Deb fought down a wave of disappointment. Of all the men to kiss her pantyhose off, it had to be hardworking, family-oriented, marriage-minded him. Was there no justice in the world?

“Pucker up, missy.” An old man with a handlebar mustache shoved a dollar at her and leaned forward.

“Sorry, Cecil. We’re closed.”

“Since when?”

“Since I’ve got a date at the dunking booth.” Deb fished into her pocket, pulled out a few twenties so the kids didn’t miss out on the money from the kisses she was about to decline, stuffed the cash into the till and flipped on the Out To Lunch sign. A quick adjustment of her blazing red jacket and silk blouse, and she rounded the table and headed through the crowd of people.

When she reached her destination, her heart stalled at the sight of him, clad only in jeans, sitting up on the raised platform. Blond hair sprinkled his chest and funneled to a thin line that bisected a rippled abdomen. The tanned muscles of his arms flexed, bulged as he gripped the edge of his seat and dangled his bare, tanned feet in the water.

The girl at the head of the line tossed the ball and missed, her gaze hooked on him rather than the bright red target just to the left. Deb could sympathize. He was buff and beautiful, with a wicked smile and brilliant eyes and…

The thought died as his gaze caught hers and she felt an answering warmth deep inside. His lips curved, a dimple cut into his right cheek, and the warmth turned to full-blown heat.

Deb, heart racing, hormones chanting, body wanting, did the only thing she could. She traded her money for a stash of balls, aimed for the target and let the first ball rip.

Marriage-minded Jimmy Mission had husband written all over him and the last thing, the very last thing Deb Strickland wanted was a husband. She’d come too close to making that mistake once before.

Never again.

No matter how good he kissed.

1

One year later

JIMMY MISSION wasn’t sure what bothered him most about Deb Strickland.

The fact that she was pleading her innocence to the judge, even though the entire lunch rush at Pancake World had seen her back into the front end of his Bronco.

Or the fact that with every deep breath she took, her low-cut silk blouse shifted and a heart-shaped tattoo played a wicked game of peek-a-boo with him.

“Four thousand dollars? For a little dent? Why, with a hammer and five bucks worth of spray paint, I could fix the blasted thing myself!”

“Six hundred is for the dent.” Skeeter Baines, the oldest judge in Inspiration and an ex-fishing buddy of Jimmy’s late father, pointed a bony finger at her. “The rest is for poor Jimmy’s pain and suffering. Maybe you’ll think twice before you go ramming that fancy sports car of yours into an innocent man’s truck.”

“Innocent? Judge, it was his bumper that was sticking over the line into my spot. I couldn’t help but tap him.”

“Three times?” the judge asked.

“It was twice.”

“Aha! So you did ram him.”

“Tapped him, and my insurance will cover the damages. As for the pain and suffering—”

“I’ve made my decision. Now take your seat.” The judge slammed his hammer down and Deb blew out an exasperated sigh.

The tattoo flashed Jimmy in full, heart-shaped splendor—a vivid red against a backdrop of pale, satin-looking skin—and his mouth went dry.

“This is a terrible miscarriage of justice,” she declared, pivoting to face the handful of people clustered in the tiny courtroom—the bailiff, the court reporter, the police officer who’d responded to the accident call and three nosy file clerks. “Grossly unfair.” Another deep sigh, a quick flash of red, and Jimmy’s groin tightened.

The only thing unfair was Jimmy’s reaction to the brunette stomping around the defendant’s table in three-inch heels, a tight red skirt and a clingy white blouse.

This was Deb Strickland, he reminded himself. Ten percent soft, warm, female, ninety percent ballsy attitude, and the woman responsible for causing him so much grief. He rued the day he’d had the misfortune to lay down good money for an all-too-brief kiss that had started out their renewed acquaintance with such sweet promise. After she’d dunked and damned near drowned him that same fateful day, things between them had only gone downhill.

“What is unfair, Miss Strickland,” Judge Baines snapped, “is that you purposely damaged Mr. Mission’s property.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. Jimmy Mission has been hounding me for an entire year. Every time I turn around, there he is.”

“This is a small town, Miss Strickland.”

“I’m fully aware of that, but he’s not only there, he’s doing things—like parking in my spot every time he comes into town, sitting in my seat at my table during the YMCA charity barbecue last month, signing up to be my partner during the wheelbarrow race at the Senior Citizen Olympics.”

“Attended that barbecue, myself. Sounds like Jimmy was just being charitable and looking out for his own, which is more than I can say for present company.”

“This is about Cletus Wallaby, isn’t it?” When the judge’s expression hardened, Deb added, “You can’t hold that against me, Judge. Cletus Wallaby was a crooked councilman and the people of this town deserved to know it. It was my journalistic duty to expose him.”

“Cletus was born and raised here. Spent his whole life struggling to make the town better when you were just a gleam in your rich father’s eye.”

“Homegrown or not, he stole money from taxpayers and that makes him crooked.”

“He may have fudged on his expense sheets for the town, but he’s a damn good family man and a helluva fisherman, little missy, and you’d do well to remember that some folks don’t take too kindly to outsiders spreading rumors.”

“Every one of my facts was documented and proven. That’s why he was fired last year. Fact, not rumor.”

“And the fact here,” the judge snapped, obviously set in his opinion despite the proof, “is that you damaged Jimmy’s property.”

“But he was taking up half my space—”

“Try two inches,” Jimmy called out, adding fuel to the already out-of-control fire that blazed between them. “I was barely two inches beyond the line, Judge.”

She turned blazing blue eyes on him and what he’d discovered to be her most intimidating glare.

Only Jimmy wasn’t easily intimidated or put off. He could handle women, even an ornery one.

He gave her the slowest, laziest grin he could manage with just a hint of a wink, an expression he’d become notorious for since he’d first used it to con Mary Sue Grimes into the bed of his daddy’s pickup when he’d been fifteen. Jimmy didn’t really understand the effect of “The Grin” on women, just that it never failed to turn the tide his way.

She glared. “Two inches is about the size of things, from what I hear.”

“Now, Slick.” His grin widened when her gaze narrowed. “I didn’t think you listened to hearsay. If you want to check your facts, I’d be mighty happy to show you and set the record straight.”

“I just bet you would,” she snapped.

Deb Strickland didn’t, wouldn’t respond to “The Grin.” Aside from the moment they’d kissed, she hadn’t responded in any positive way to him since he’d come home to Inspiration over a year ago and found her running the town newspaper in place of her granny Lily.

He’d been surprised. Not because Deb had taken the old woman’s place at the In Touch, but because she’d grown from the scrawny young city gal who used to keep her granny company a few weeks every summer into one fine-looking woman who, folks said, kept company with every eligible man in town.

Every man, that is, except for him.

It puzzled the hell out of Jimmy, not only because of her initial response to him, but because women, all women, just plain liked him. It was a fact of life, like the sun rising and setting, his mother baking her famous Christmas cookies, his Black Angus bull walking away with first prize at the Austin County livestock show. Jimmy smiled and women smiled back. He flirted and they flirted back.

And some did more, he thought, eyeing the platter of petit fours sitting in front of him, courtesy of the court reporter, Justine something or other, and Daring Deb’s Fun Girl Fact for the week—Go get ’im with gourmet goodies! He thought about the drawer full of silk underwear—not his own—he had at home due to last week’s Seduce him with silk! He pictured his cabinet overflowing with everything from biscotti to croissants, smoked oysters to sardines, all surefire aphrodisiacs according to Loosen him up with love potions!

He glanced down at the folded newspaper and today’s words of wisdom. Nothing says come and get me like pineapple-flavored body glaze!

This was a small Texas town. Most of the women hadn’t even heard of flavored body glazes, much less seen a tube of the stuff, which was exactly the point of the column. To bring some city-savvy love advice to the single women of Inspiration.

Jimmy had nothing against women being savvy when it came to love, he just didn’t want all that savvy directed at him when he wasn’t ready to do anything about it. Most of the women he knew wouldn’t get all spruced up for a man unless he’d already handed over the ring, and Jimmy hadn’t even narrowed down the candidates, much less decided on the future Lady Mission.

He knew Deb had started the column to push him away, to draw the line between them and remind him that she wasn’t the sort of girl a guy could take home to his mama. But damned if she didn’t come back every few weeks with some short, serious article. Like the one she’d done on Cletus Wallaby who’d cost the good citizens of Inspiration major tax dollars because of his falsified expense reports, or the one she’d done to rally support for the local animal shelter.

It was those serious, caring articles that never failed to cool his anger and stir his admiration. And they also made him wonder exactly how many rumours regarding Deb’s bedroom exploits were rooted in fact and how many were pure speculation based on the sophisticated, worldly image she portrayed and the fact that this was a small town and gossip a favorite pastime. He knew she’d dated all of the twenty or so eligible men in town. What he had trouble swallowing was that she’d bedded all of them, because as turned on as she’d been by his kiss, he’d sensed her surprise, as well.

“Don’t you have better things to do than harass innocent women?” Deb’s voice drew Jimmy back to the here and now and the fire flashing in her blue eyes.

“Sure do. Today, I’m teaching a lesson to a guilty woman. You break the law, you have to pay.”

“But you parked in my spot on purpose.”

“Barely.” He shrugged. “I’m not too good at parallel parking.”

“Well, neither am I. So sue me.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, a wave of red crept up her neck and fueled her cheeks.

“That’s what I’m doing, sweetheart.”

And in a big way. He’d counted on the fact that Judge Baines, still soured over Deb’s exposure of Cletus, the judge’s longtime fishing buddy, would go for the maximum judgement allowed. Having his early weekend fishing trip put off by a Friday morning hearing didn’t help matters. Deb didn’t stand a chance, which was exactly why Jimmy had hauled her into court.

Not that he needed the outrageous judgment. This wasn’t about damages. It was about finishing what they’d started.