* * *
JASON SET HIS bag on the leather seat of the luxury plane, but he remained standing, his hand on the overhead bin. He had his phone out, dialing the studio again. He got voice mail again.
Leaving Kat was crazy. In fact, why was he leaving her? Ellie would be here to look after things. Why the heck hadn’t he thought of this several hours ago? There was no reason Kat couldn’t come with him. They didn’t need anyone’s permission to be together. He hesitated, thinking of Kat’s complicated obstacle course that required him to leave and come back, as if that proved they were going to make it.
He dialed his boss Sabrina again and left a message. “I’m chartering a plane to Denver,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll make auditions. I’m taking Kat with me though, so whether you put her at the audition table or not, she’s coming along for the trip. Ellie, her husband and Ronnie are covering the show.” He hung up and grabbed his bag.
“Do you need me to put that somewhere for you?” a stewardess asked.
“No,” Jason said. “I’m not staying. Feel free to depart without me.” Jason was out of the plane and running toward the airport door in a flash.
He burst through the door, praying that Kat wasn’t already gone. “Kat!”
“Jason!”
He spotted her in a seat with tears streaming down her face. “Baby,” he said hurrying to her, tossing his bag on the ground, and dropping down on one knee in front of her. He wiped dampness from her cheeks. “Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I don’t ever want to make you cry like this.”
“Because you’re leaving,” she said. “It’s just hard. I… why aren’t you on that plane?” She grabbed his arm, her eyes wide. “Go get on that plane.” She tried to stand up.
Jason kept her in the seat. “I left, just like you said I had to. I didn’t like it and you didn’t seem to either. So, I came back. That exercise is done and over. We passed the test.”
“Jason, you have to get on that plane. The studio—”
“I’m chartering a later flight,” he said. “I’ll make tomorrow’s audition. And you’re going to be on that plane with me if I have any influence at all. Ellie is here. There’s no reason you can’t come with me.”
“But—”
He kissed her. “No ‘buts’ allowed. I want to show you something.” He unzipped his bag and pulled out a velvet box, but kept it out of her sight. “I carried this with me to remind me of what waited on me at home, Kat. I planned to do this when the auditions were over, but I can’t wait.” He lifted the box and opened the lid to display a platinum ring that he’d had designed for her. It was shaped like a lily, the flower theme they’d had at their first wedding. “I need my wife back to share my life with. Marry me, Kat. You are, and have always been, the woman I love. Marry me in Europe. Marry me in the Elvis Chapel, or heck, let’s find someone here in this airport who has the power vested in them, and let’s get married now.”
Kat hugged him tight.
“Please tell me that’s a yes,” he said, holding on to her, holding his breath at the same time as he waited for her reply.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she quickly said, and leaned back, cupping his face and kissing him. “Of course, it’s yes.” She stared down at the ring and started crying again. “It’s gorgeous. It’s perfect. It’s our flower.”
Jason slipped the ring onto her finger. “I only have one other request,” he said.
“Don’t lose the ring?” she asked.
“That, too,” he agreed. “But I was thinking more along the lines of don’t divorce me again.”
She laughed. “You’re stuck with me this time. In fact, why don’t we go find that airport preacher right now?”
He laughed and kissed her and they really did go look, but they had no luck. Instead, they spent the flight to Denver planning a wedding in Thailand, where they and their parents could bet on forever.
* * *
THREE MONTHS LATER, Kat stood in the empty house they’d purchased, having just returned from Thailand newlyweds yet again. Jason walked in the front door and set down a box. They were only a few miles from her old place, and close to his house that was now her parents’. Not that she thought they’d ever use it. They were in love with Thailand.
“The moving guys said they’d be here in half an hour,” Jason announced.
Kat spun around in the center of the hardwood living room floor. “I love this place.”
Jason laughed and wiggled an eyebrow. “You do know we’ll have to test out every room in our own very special way?”
“Hmmm,” she said. “I do like your way of breaking in a new house.”
A car pulled into the driveway. “Is that the movers?” Kat asked, walking to the window, and then looking over her shoulder at Jason. “It’s your agent, Jason. Oh. Wait. It’s both our agents.” With the ratings for season three of Stepping Up at an all-time high, the studio had been after both Jason, and unbelievably, Kat, to sign on as judges for the new season.
Jason joined her. “They’re trying that ol’ double team thing, I guess. This is Ellie’s fault for leaving the show.”
“She got her own reality show,” Kat said. “I can’t say I blame her for moving on.”
“They’re going to offer us ridiculous money,” Jason said.
“Yeah,” Kat agreed, glancing at him. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to make that independent film that I told you about. And I want you to try your hand at producing.”
She wound her arms around his neck. “Then I say, let’s make that movie.”
Footsteps sounded on the porch and Jason grinned. “Want to teach them a lesson about surprising us like this?”
She shook her head. “Oh, yeah. What did you have in mind?”
He kissed her, a hot wild kiss that was sure to make even a grown man blush, or in this case, two grown men.
Life really was too good to be true, Kat thought.
* * * * *
Lone Star Surrender
To Janice for the insight and support that make me so much better. To Diego for being the light that lifts me up. To my Mom and kids for always believing in me.
And to my Red Hot Readers—you guys are wonderful!
Contents
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
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Excerpt
1
HEAT. DESIRE. ATTRACTION.
He watched her from across the ritzy Hyatt Regency Hotel bar, his attention riveted by her every move. Her every nuance. The sultry beat of a slow song filtered through the smoke-filled bar, echoing the thrum of awareness dancing through his body. She shifted in her chair, her baby-blue skirt riding high…exposing long, sexy legs.
Legs he’d love to have wrapped around his waist, her body pressed close.
His reaction to his target, the woman he’d been following for two days now, came as a surprise. He didn’t normally find his work distracting. But a woman like this one could make a man forget that business and pleasure didn’t mix. She could make a man debate the merits of crossing the line to do things he might later regret. A line he had no intention of crossing.
Nicole Ward sat among a group of people, all there to congratulate her sister, Brenda, for passing the bar exam. His target’s sleek blond hair still in the prim-and-proper knot she wore at work. He wondered what it took to get her to set it free, to let the woman run wild.
The idea of finding out appealed to him far too much.
He suspected she allowed the world to see only certain parts of her life. To see the uptight federal-prosecutor persona who lived for her job.
Even there, amongst a crowd, with a celebration underway, she remained reserved and well in check. There had to be another side to her…one she kept concealed. Perhaps too carefully. Perhaps hiding something she didn’t want explored.
Which was why he was here.
He intended to find out what was beneath her exterior.
Constantine Vega knew everything that a file could tell him about Nicole Ward, down to her shoe size. Seven. Narrow. She took two creamers in her coffee and drank at least three cups each morning, in place of breakfast, but not until she completed an hour in the gym.
She’d come straight out of the University of Texas here in Austin to work for her father’s law firm—a firm where decisions were made based on money, not justice. A job she’d excelled at.
Shortly after joining the law firm, she’d married her father’s young protégé, Mike Parker. Divorced a year later, she took back her maiden name, and left the firm to join the U.S. Attorney’s office, and now fought for people rather than power and wealth. From his observations, thus far, he thought that was true, but he had to know for sure.
After all, this blonde beauty could very well hold his life in her hands. In just a few days, she’d know what few did—that he wasn’t the drug lord Alvarez’s right-hand man. What he was, was an undercover FBI agent who’d spent the past few years with Alvarez, preparing to take him down.
Alvarez could control people in high places; the mighty dollar, his weapon. Ironic, considering it was also the weapon of choice that Nicole’s father and ex-husband had chosen. When money didn’t work, Alvarez could find other ways to be persuasive. Constantine had to be sure Nicole couldn’t be influenced by money, as she once had been.
Tomorrow his team would arrest another big player in the cartel, and with that takedown, Constantine’s cover would be blown. Not a minute too soon, either. Just in time for him to testify against Alvarez. Although the cartel would see him dead before that happened…if given the chance.
Constantine chugged his beer with that thought, images of some of the things he’d seen, some of the things he’d done, twisting his gut. Hating himself for the blind eye he’d turned to so many wrongs.
But it was all for the greater good, he reminded himself, setting his bottle down and swallowing the bile forming in his throat. He’d made choices he wasn’t proud of in order to save thousands. A few sacrificed to save many. The problem was, he wasn’t so sure he believed that what he did made a difference anymore.
He’d lost too much. Gambled too much. There was just…too much.
The final cards would be played soon.
Glancing at Nicole Ward, he took in her innocent looks. Ah, but he’d seen devils who looked like angels. He had a way of getting people to share their secrets, of getting them to talk. A little sweet talk and a smile, and he’d either confirm her honesty or expose her nasty side.
He watched as she sipped from her second Tequila Sunrise. The “ice princess”—as she’d been nicknamed by the federal investigators who couldn’t score with her—had broken her own one-drink rule. Did this mean she was feeling good?
Ah…but he didn’t believe she was cold, this one. Not at all. Constantine had seen her ex-husband’s file. The man had a thing for kinky sex clubs and a variety of women. A habit that dated back to his married days.
Either a naughty side lurked beneath Nicole Ward’s conservative exterior, or she’d been burned badly when she’d learned of her ex’s habits and gone into withdrawal. Constantine’s gut said she had a well-concealed kinky side. And his gut had never steered him wrong before.
If ever he’d seen a woman in need of some loving, it was this one. She was wound tight and ready for release. He could tell by the way she crossed those gorgeous legs and let her shoe dangle from her foot. He bet that her toenails were painted red, not some soft pink-and-cream color. Red for seductress. A seductress who hadn’t come out to play in a very long time.
An innocent game of flirtation would get him past her defenses. Too bad he’d have to stop at a bit of wordplay. Even at that, if Nicole was, indeed, innocent of wrongdoing, she’d be mad as hell when she met him again—as her new witness. When she calmed down, she’d understand. She had to. He’d acted out of necessity, faced with what might be a decision of life or death… His.
Constantine shoved off his bar stool, and started walking toward his target. A long time ago, he’d learned to never look back.
Tonight, he would play the game, consequences be damned.
* * *
“I SHOULDN’T BE HERE,” Nicole said, raising her voice to be heard over the familiar pop tune the DJ played. “I have a trial starting in less than a week.”
Brenda sipped from her straw. “This night is big for me, so you will just have to deal with it. Besides,” she added, “it’s about time you had fun.” She waved two fingers at an all-American-looking, football type across the bar. “Ooh, he’s cute.”
“Enjoy him, now,” Nicole said, wishing Brenda would take a different path. She’d been trying to convince her to rethink her plans for months. “Going to work for Daddy means you have no life.”
Brenda snorted. “Unlike you, I’m not giving up sex. I don’t need a relationship, but, honey, I need a good man and I need one often.”
“Right,” Nicole said with disbelief. Brenda really didn’t get how their father’s world would consume her. How it could destroy her individuality and steal her life. “You’ll be so buried in work, you won’t remember what goes where. Sex will be a distant memory.”
“You and Mike seemed to find time for sex. I seem to remember a laundry list of places you ‘did it.’ The storage room, the elevat—”
“Enough!” Nicole said, hating that subject. Even after three years, thinking about what she’d allowed herself to become still bothered her. “Don’t remind me about Mike.”
“Don’t avoid the subject,” Brenda retorted. “You and Mike might not have talked, but you had lots of sex, despite working at Daddy’s firm. You found time and so will I. Admit it. You know it’s true.”
Nicole took another long sip from her straw, suddenly needing a drink. Yes, she’d had lots of sex with her ex. Too much. It had controlled her, just as money had. “Life is not about sex. That’s my point.” Silently she added, Or money, as Daddy would have you believe.
“Aha,” Brenda said, crossing her arms in front of her chest and nodding as though in mock cross-examination of a witness. Her baby-blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “So you were having lots of sex.”
“That’s all I had with Mike,” Nicole replied dryly.
“I see.” Brenda pursed her lips as she reached for her Tequila Sunrise. “He was one of those. I figured as much.”
Nicole’s brows inched upward. “One of those?”
“You know,” Brenda said. “The ‘fuck you and roll over’ types.”
Running a finger over the rim of her glass, Nicole pondered her response, seeing no reason to hold back at that point. “Actually, he was the ‘fuck me three times and roll over’ kind of guy.”
They shared a laugh and suddenly, having spoken the painfully true words out loud, Nicole felt better.
With a new, more relaxed mood, Nicole enjoyed a playful conversation with Brenda, even finding humor in her sister’s ongoing flirtation with the jock guy.
Finally, when Brenda had teased the man enough, he sauntered over to the table. When the jock asked Brenda to dance, she accepted, and then cut Nicole a look. “I’ll be back.” She pinched the straw in Nicole’s Tequila Sunrise and leaned close to her ear. “S-e-x. I need it and so do you. Find yourself some, honey.”
Nicole cast a wry glance at the ceiling as Brenda scurried off to the dance floor, her hand in the jock’s. A second later, as if he’d been beckoned by Brenda’s naughty intentions on her sister’s behalf, a stranger appeared.
br /> And what a stranger he was. The man could heat an iceberg.
Shoulder-length raven hair, with a slight wave, framed a square jaw and high cheekbones. Chocolate-brown skin and a dark goatee spoke of a Hispanic heritage; the indentation in his chin and the small scar above his full top lip, of a renegade.
“Hello,” he said, his voice hard to make out over the music.
But she didn’t need to hear him. Her gaze locked with his, and the impact was nothing short of explosive. Awareness sent a rush of heat straight between her legs. Awareness that spoke of the kind of instant attraction rarely shared between strangers. Potent. Electric.
She swallowed hard, looking into deep, dark eyes. Dim light hid their exact color but, again, it didn’t matter. They were soulful. Rich with mystery and seduction, perhaps a hint of danger.
Before she knew his intentions, he closed the distance between them, kneeling down beside her. With her legs crossed, her knee was angled toward him. His gaze dropped to the sandal dangling from her toes, and then did a slow glide up her calf, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
When his eyes lifted, his lips hinted at a smile and one right dimple. “Nice color,” he said, glancing at her ruby-red toenail polish.
She uncrossed her legs, feeling amazingly aroused by something as silly as a man noticing her toenail polish. If he was this detailed in his observations out of bed, well, she couldn’t help but wonder what detail he’d manage in bed.
Tugging on her slim blue dress, she pushed her knees together, despite an incredible yearning to simply spread them for this stranger. Compliments of the intense scrutiny she’d just endured from those seductive eyes of his, she could distinctly feel the gathering of wetness on her panties.
The man got her that ready, that fast.
It’s what she called talent, because no one had done that to her in a very, very long time. So long she’d started to wonder if her sexuality switch had been flipped to a permanent off.