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Until You're Mine
Until You're Mine
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Until You're Mine

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Until You're Mine
Jessica Bird

Getting tangled up in fantasies about some man Joy saw maybe five or six times a year was ridiculous. And it wasn't like Gray ever encouraged her. He remembered her name. But that was as far as it ever got. Well, except in her dreams. In real life, however, the attraction was totally one-sided. Or so she thought. Joy couldn't believe it when her daydreams about Grayson Bennett, political consultant and heartthrob extraordinaire, seemed poised to become reality.When he noticed her–really noticed her. When he gazed at her with the same desire he'd inspired in her for years. But was sweet, small-town Joy a match for arrogant, big-city Gray, ruthless about all things–except opening his heart?

Praise for the Novels of J.R. Ward Writing as Jessica Bird

‘Jessica Bird gives us a romance of rare depth, humour and sensuality …’

—RT Book Reviews on Beauty and the Black Sheep

‘Dramatic, edgy and intense, this story has a larger-than-life, dark hero who takes the sweet heroine (and the reader) to some exciting places.’

—RT Book Reviews on His Comfort and Joy

‘Jessica Bird’s A Man in a Million features a larger-than-life, irresistible hero and an equally complex, intriguing heroine. Top-notch.’ —RT Book Reviews

Praise for No.1 New York Times bestselling author J.R. Ward

‘Terrific … explosive … exciting … Ward has outdone herself.’

—Publishers Weekly

‘Ward wields a commanding voice perfect for the genre … Hold on tight for an intriguing, adrenaline-pumping ride.’

—Booklist

‘J.R. Ward has a great style of writing and she shines … You will lose yourself in this world.’

—All About Romance on Dark Lover

Also available

WHEN YOU WALKED IN

ME WITHOUT YOU

THE PERFECT DISTRACTION

J.R. WARD is a No.1 New York Times and Sunday Times bestselling author of erotic paranormal romance. She lives in the south with her incredibly supportive husband and her beloved golden retriever. After graduating from law school, she began working in healthcare in Boston and spent many years as Chief of Staff of one of the premier academic medical centres in the nation. Writing has always been her passion and her idea of heaven is a whole day of nothing but her computer, her dog and her coffee pot.

Visit the J.R. Ward Message Boards or e-mail her at jrw@jrward.com (mailto:jrw@jrward.com).

Until You’re Mine

J. R. Ward

Writing as Jessica Bird

www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)

With thanks to my first reader,

aka Mom

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

The boat’s engine throbbed as Grayson Bennett kept the Hacker at a low speed and close to the lakeshore. The antique, thirty-foot craft was his pride and joy, a relic of the Great Gatsby era of lake life. Made of mahogany and varnished to a shine so bright it could hurt your eyes, the Bellitas was indeed a thing of beauty. And she was wickedly fast. The long, thin design provided three discreet seating areas, marked by contoured banquettes in dark green leather. The massive engine, capable of shooting the boat through the water at speeds of sixty miles an hour, took up a good six feet of space in the middle.

He would miss her when he put her up on blocks for the winter, and the time for her yearly hibernation was coming fast. He could feel it in the air.

Even though it was the middle of the day, September was cool in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. To take the edge off the chill, he was wearing a windbreaker and his only passenger, aside from a big, very happy golden retriever, had on a thick sweater.

Naturally, the dog had plenty of insulation.

Gray looked across the seat at the woman who stared at the cliffs they were passing. Cassandra Cutler’s thick red hair was secured at her neck and her green eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. The frames covered up the dark circles of her exhaustion, too.

No doubt she saw little of the rocks and pine trees, he thought. Life had to be an inconsequential blur for someone who’d become a widow only six weeks ago.

“How’re we doing?” he asked his old, dear friend.

She smiled slightly, a tense expression he knew she worked at. “I’m glad you pestered me to get out of the city.”

“Good.”

“I can’t imagine I’m enjoyable company, though,” Cassandra said.

“You’re not here to perform.”

Gray focused on the lake ahead as the silence was filled with the sound of the boat’s deep-throated engine and the lapping of water against the wooden gunnels. Sunshine glinted off the mahogany, flashed over the tops of the gentle waves, brought out the vivid blue of the sky and the dense green of the mountains. The air was so clear and clean that when he breathed deep, the inside of his nose hummed.

It was a perfect fall day. And he was about to shoot the hell out of his quiet enjoyment.

When they’d left his estate’s boathouse, he could have taken them in any direction. To the south, where they could have danced around a thicket of small islands. Across to the west to see some of the other big stretches of property.

But no, he’d chosen the north where sooner or later the old Moorehouse mansion would appear. White Caps was a big white birthday cake of a house, perched on a three-acre bluff. Once the family’s lavish private home, it had been turned into a bed-and-breakfast by them when their money had run out.

But he wasn’t going to look at the property.

When the bluff appeared in the distance, his eyes narrowed. The long rolling lawn, which drifted from White Caps’ porches to the shore, was a dazzling green. Oaks and maples framed the house, already turning colors from the frosts that came at night.

He couldn’t see anyone and he looked harder, even as he started to turn the boat around.

Cassandra didn’t need to get anywhere near the Moorehouse place. Her husband’s sailing partner, who’d survived the yachting accident, was recovering there with his family. Gray wasn’t sure she knew that or whether she’d want to see Alex, but he wasn’t inclined to take a chance at giving her another shock. She’d had enough bad surprises lately.

Cassandra’s voice did not break his concentration. “My husband liked you, Gray.”

“I liked Reese,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the house, eyes searching.

“But he thought you were a dangerous man.”

“Did he?”

“He said you knew where most of the bodies were buried in Washington, D.C. Because you’d put a lot of them in the ground.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat and continued to stare as White Caps grew smaller.

“I’ve heard it from other people.”

“Really.”

“They say even the President is wary of you.”

He glanced back at the house again. “Loose talk. Just loose talk.”

“Considering the way you’re looking at that mansion back there, I’m not so sure.” Cassandra tilted her head to the side, regarding him with steady curiosity. “Who lives there? Or more to the point, what do you want that’s in that house?”

When Gray remained silent, Cassandra’s dry chuckle floated over on the breeze. “Well, whatever it is, I feel sorry for the poor thing. Because you look like you’re on the hunt.”

“Hold still or I’m going to stick you,” Joy Moorehouse said to her sister.

“I am holding still.”

“Then why is this hem a moving target?” She shifted back onto her heels and looked up at her work.

The wedding gown hung from her sister Frankie’s shoulders in a graceful fall of white satin. Joy had been careful with the design. Too many frills and excess fabric wouldn’t pass muster. Frankie thought blue jeans were formal as long as you wore them with your hair up.

“Do I look like I’m in someone else’s dress?” Frankie asked.

“You look beautiful.”

Frankie laughed without bitterness. “That’s your department, not mine. I’m the plain, practical sister, remember?”

“Ah, but you’re the one getting married.”

“And ain’t it a miracle?”

Joy smiled. “I’m so happy for you.”

Everyone was. The whole town of Saranac Lake was thrilled and they were all coming to festivities that were taking place in about six weeks.

Frankie lifted the skirting up gingerly, as if she might hurt it. “I have to admit, this thing feels good.”

“It’ll fit even better when I finish the alterations. You can take it off now.”

“We’re done?”

Joy nodded and got up from the floor. “I’ve basted all around the bottom. I’ll stitch it up this evening and we’ll do another fitting tomorrow.”

“But I thought you were going to help out tonight. We’re catering Mr. Bennett’s birthday party, remember?”

Joy almost laughed. She’d have better luck losing track of her own head than forgetting where she was supposed to be in another couple of hours. And who she would see.

“Remember?” Frankie prompted. “We’re going to need you.”

Joy made busywork putting her sewing kit back together. She had a feeling her excitement was showing on her face and she didn’t want her sister to see it. “I know.”

“The party could go late.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Because it wasn’t as if she’d be able to sleep when they got back home.

“I don’t want you slaving over this dress.”

“And you’re getting married in a month and a half, so I have to get the thing done. Well, unless you fancy yourself heading down the aisle in your underwear, a sight I’m pretty sure Nate would prefer to keep for his eyes only. Besides, you know I love doing this, especially for you.” She turned around. Her sister was staring out the window, absently stroking the gown. “Frankie? What’s wrong?”

“Last night, I asked Alex to walk me to the altar.”