The Stallion Brothers

“Did you really just barge into their board meeting?” Marla asked.

“Kind of.”

“So what was he like?” Eden asked, curiosity pulling at them all.

“Who?”

“This John Stallion guy. I’ve heard he’s a real business shark.”

Marah suddenly blushed, a rush of color heating her cheeks. She stammered, searching for words. “He…well…he was…”

Before either of the Briscoe women could say another word, Edward moved back into the room. A wide smile filled his face as he cuddled Marla’s two-month-old son in his arms.

“Look who was wide awake,” the man gushed, nuzzling his face into the infant’s neck. “He was just laying there waiting patiently for his mama. This here’s one good baby. Boy wasn’t even crying.”

Marla extended her arms as her father passed her the child. Marah grinned, moving from her seat to her sister’s side. “He gets bigger and bigger each time I see him, Marla,” she said, pressing her lips to the baby’s forehead.

“And heavier and heavier,” Marla chuckled.

Edward fanned a hand in her direction. “You need to feed that boy some real food, that’ll fatten my boy up.”

Marla rolled her eyes skyward. “He’ll get real food soon enough, Daddy. Breast milk is just fine for now.”

Her father scowled. “You kids don’t know nothing. Need to give him a real bottle with a little cereal in it. That’s what your mama and I use to give you three.”

“And I’m still trying to get the weight off my hips!” Eden exclaimed.

They all laughed as Edward moved back to his pots. He peered in quickly, giving the concoction another quick stir.

They all fell silent for a quick minute as they watched Marla and the baby, marveling at the new life that had blessed their family. Edward broke the quiet.

“You need to get dem papers back, Marah.”

“But, Daddy…”

“But nothing. I’ve made my decision, honey. It’s time. I’m tired and running this ranch takes more out of me than I have to give.” The man let out a deep sigh.

“But, Daddy, if Marla and Michael keep running the day-to-day operations and I know Eden and I would be more than willing to take over some of the other responsibilities.”

“Munchkin, for all you know Marla and Michael might have other plans. Marla needs to be thinking about little Mike there, not this place. She’s got a family now and Eden needs to be thinking about having one with that new husband of hers. And you don’t need any more distractions keeping you from finding your own man. This ranch has just become an excuse for all of us to not go on with our lives. Besides, if you and Eden want to see that new business of yours do well, then you two will need to invest all the time and energy that you have there and not be worried about this ranch.”

Marah persisted. “I don’t think that’s fair, Daddy. This ranch is our lives, too. You haven’t even asked us what we wanted to do. I really think we should all talk about it.”

“I don’t need to talk about it. I’ve made up my mind,” the man said, his expression showing that he had no intentions of discussing it further.

“But, Daddy—”

Edward held up his hand and stalled her words. “Just get dem papers, Marah. That’s all you need to do.”

The family had all gathered for lunch, not another word spoken about the Stallions or the sale of the family home. After excusing himself to go take a quick nap, Edward had retired to his room and his children had discussed their options. Marah was only slightly dismayed by her sibling’s attitudes: Eden and Marla not wanting to rock Edward’s boat, but all agreeing that none of them wanted to see what their parent’s had built sold away—and definitely not to a corporation that didn’t have a clue.

Down in the stables, Marah groomed Brutus, the chestnut gelding that had been gifted to her on her twenty-fourth birthday. Her mother had been the one to select the horse as well as the palomino that Marla had named Chester. The stables and the animals that dwelled there had been her sanctuary for so long that Marah couldn’t begin to image her life without them. Somehow they had to make their father understand how important the ranch was to them all.

Hearing her name being called, Marah stroked the horse one last time, then headed out of the barn. Looking toward the homestead, she couldn’t miss the black sedan that was parked in the yard or the man standing in conversation with her father. She could feel her body tense as she stood staring in their direction.

Directly ahead of her, Eden and Marah were making their way to her side.

“If I wasn’t already in love and married,” Eden chimed, a wide grin filling her face.

“That brother is one good-looking man,” Marla exclaimed, giggling with her older sister.

“What’s he doing here?” Marah asked, her palms gripping the sides of her waist.

“He came to speak with you.”

Marah tossed Eden a quick look. “Me?”

The other woman nodded. “We assume you’re the Ms. Briscoe he wants to speak with.”

“And Daddy says to not keep Mr. Stallion waiting. Something about him being a busy man,” Marla said with another giggle.

Marah sneered as they all three headed in the direction of the house, but as they approached the two men, she was suddenly conscious of the fact that she reeked of horse and barn, and her face and hands were smeared with dirt and grime. Marah couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She brushed her palms against the front of her jeans, willing the dirt away.

John Stallion turned as she approached, his eyes widening with amusement as she drew near. He nodded in greeting.

“It’s very nice to see you again, Ms. Briscoe,” he said with more emphasis on the Ms. than necessary.

“Mr. Stallion.”

“John came to talk to me about your meeting this morning,” Edward said, eyeing his daughter with raised eyebrows.

Marah found herself wishing for a hole to crawl into as her father continued, turning his attention back to the man at his side.

“Marah is just like her mother—headstrong and stubborn as a mule. Did you meet my other girls, John?”

“No, sir. I haven’t yet had the pleasure,” the dark prince said, his tone full and deep. He extended a hand toward Eden and then Marla as Edward made the introductions.

“This is my oldest girl, Eden Waller and this is Marah’s twin, Marla Baron. Marla and her husband Michael just gave me my first grandbaby. As you know, they run the daily operations here. Girls, this is Mr. John Stallion.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” John said.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Eden chimed.

Marah rolled her eyes at her sister, crossing her arms over her chest. Her gaze fell back on John, who was watching her intently, his stare more than obvious.

“Ms. Briscoe, I was telling your father that since you’re not happy with the details of our preliminary offer that it might be in his best interest if you were to participate in the final negotiations.”

“Excuse me?” Marah cut her eyes from one man to the other.

John smiled, the beauty of it sending a torrent of heat straight into Marah’s southern quadrant. “That’s right. Your father has agreed that you should handle his end of the negotiations.”

Marah tossed her father a shocked look. The old man was grinning in her direction. He nodded his head.

“That’s right, munchkin. I still plan to sell, but I’m going to trust you to get me a deal that will make everyone happy.”

“But, Daddy—”

He interrupted, changing the subject as he turned to face his other daughters. “Marla, we have five weddings here this month and my grandson needs a diaper change so you’ve got work to do. Eden, don’t you have a business of your own to run?”

“Yes, sir, Daddy,” both chimed simultaneously, following behind the man as he headed back into the house.

Both women tossed a quick look and grinned at the duo standing toe-to-toe.

When her family was out of earshot, Marah blasted him. “You really are an arrogant ass, Mr. Stallion. I told you he’s not selling.”

“And I told you that we have a deal on the table that will go through, with or without your approval, Ms. Briscoe. But your father has decided he would like your approval and I support that.”

“I just bet you do.”

John stepped in, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “You really are quite beautiful when you’re angry,” he said, his voice dropping two octaves.

Marah stammered, rage flashing across her face. “I don’t believe you just said that,” she hissed, her tone incredulous.

“Well, I did.” The man moved back in the direction of his car, that smug grin filling his dark face. “The executive board is having dinner tonight to discuss the Briscoe acquisition. I’ll send a car to get you. Be ready at seven. And, Ms. Briscoe?”

“What?”

“Please wash. We’ll be in black tie tonight,” he said with a quick wink before sliding into the driver’s seat of the vehicle.

Marah watched as he pulled out of the gate and onto the main thoroughway. When he was finally out of sight she allowed herself to relax, stalling the shakes that had taken control of her muscles. For some reason things weren’t going at all the way she’d planned.

Chapter 3

Her sisters were waiting for her when she entered their childhood bedroom. The decor was as it had been when they’d been children. Bubblegum-pink walls, princess-white furniture with gold trim, gray-and-white shag carpet and white lace curtains adorned the space.

Marah groaned loudly as she threw her lean body across the twin bed that had been Eden’s bed back in the day. Marla and Eden sat on the bed across from her, both grinning from ear to ear. Baby Michael slept soundly between them.

“I think she could use some professional advice,” Marla giggled, jostling Eden’s shoulder.

“I agree,” Eden joked, crossing her legs as she reached for a pen and tablet that sat on the nightstand.

Marah drew her arms up and over her head, her eyes closed tightly as Eden continued. Her twin sister giggled as if something were actually humorous.

“First,” Eden said, switching to her serious business tone as she pretended to scribble a note across the notepad. “When you meet a man you’re interested in, try not to smell like manure.”

Marla burst out laughing.

“Neither one of you is funny,” Marah responded, not bothering to look in their direction.

“Definitely not as funny as you and that man,” Eden quipped.

“Leave it alone, Eden.”

“Leave what alone? Your obvious interest in a man you’ve deemed your enemy hardly went unnoticed. Even Daddy noticed.”

Marah sat upright on the bed. “Did he say something?

“Who?”

“Daddy.”

Both women grinned broadly, cutting a glance in each other’s direction before turning their gazes back to Marah.

“No,” Marla said, her expression saying otherwise. “Did you hear Daddy say something, Eden?”

Eden shrugged. “Not me. I didn’t hear anything.”

Marah reached for one of the plush pillows that decorated the room and sent it sailing toward Eden’s head. Her sister ducked and giggled, the pillow bouncing against the pink wall behind them.

“Don’t you hit my baby,” Marla admonished, a protective hand reaching across her son’s back.

“What did Daddy say?” Marah implored, her voice dropping to a loud whisper.

Eden smiled. “Daddy said that it’s going to be interesting to see what’s going to happen with you and Mr. Stallion.”

“Actually, he said it’s going to be very interesting,” Marla interjected, her head bobbing against her shoulders.

“Can you believe the audacity of that man?” Marah questioned, her eyes flicking from one sister to the other. “And did you get a good look at his rear end? That man has a body to die for!”

In a flash, the memory of John Stallion and their elevator ride resurfaced. Marah could feel her body temperature rising rapidly, her breathing becoming static as she recalled the moment.

“What’s wrong with you?” Eden asked, eyeing her curiously. “You’re all flushed all of a sudden. You’re not getting sick on us are you? You can’t get sick, Marah. You have a dinner date tonight, remember?”

Marah did remember, a wave of anxiety sweeping through her. “I can’t go,” she said, her head waving emphatically from side to side.

“What’s going on?” Marla asked, leaning forward in her seat.

Marah swallowed hard before responding. “Stallion and I had a close encounter in the elevator of his offices this morning,” she said. “A very close encounter.”

Marla looked confused. “Why doesn’t that sound like it was good thing?”

“Oh, it was a very good thing. That’s part of the problem. I find him irresistible and that’s so wrong. He made me remember what I’m missing.”

Eden rose to her feet; Marla reached for her baby before doing the same. “You better go shower and get ready. I imagine that at least one of those Stallion brothers might be just what you’re looking for.”

The spray of hot water felt good on Marah’s bare skin. She was in dire need of relaxation and allowed herself to revel in the aromatic scent of the floral body wash in the steamy mist that billowed warmly around her. Leaning back against the shower wall, Marah relished the sensation of the tiles against her skin. Her senses had been off-kilter since her encounter with that man, her awareness of her own longings and desires more acute. The sensitivity was like nothing she could explain, the weight of it heavy in her feminine spirit.

Although she didn’t want to admit it, she still burned hot from his body heat, her skin feeling as if it were on fire. Her blood boiled as she thought about him, and Marah imagined that if it were at all possible her insides might easily combust. She could never admit to him that she wanted to feel him near her again, his body moving with hers. She shook her head vehemently, shaking the thoughts from her mind.

She stood still beneath the flow of warm liquid that rinsed the suds from her flesh. She had to have a game plan. She had to be ready to counter whatever John Stallion and his so-called executive board threw at her. She had to do whatever it took to regain some control and do what was in her father’s best interest.

Control. I have lost control, she thought. And if someone were to ask her how and why, she couldn’t begin to give them an answer. Something about that man, damn him, had made her lose control.

Marah heaved a deep sigh. Obviously, appealing to his sense of honor wasn’t going to do her any good. The man was clearly a snake in sheep’s clothing who had no honor. Or at least that’s what Marah was working hard to convince herself. As she stood thinking about the man and their very brief history together, the obvious suddenly shifted her mood and she found herself smiling.

This was going to be easier than she’d realized. John Stallion was, in fact, just a man. The look he gave her after she exited the elevator served to prove that he was a man who could easily be moved by a woman. And not just any woman, but a female like Marah Briscoe.

Marah grinned broadly, tilting her face into the flow of water. John Stallion might be the shark of all sharks, but Marah was a barracuda in her own right. A barracuda with the body of a goddess. John Stallion didn’t have a clue what was about to hit him.

Marah stood in the foyer of her family’s home, appraising the black stretch limousine that sat in wait in the driveway. Behind her, Eden shook her head, her gaze evaluating her baby sister’s wardrobe choice. Reaching into the foyer closet she dug through the coats and jackets until she found a lightweight silk shawl that she passed to Marah.

“Here, put this on,” Eden commanded. “Daddy is already in a mood about what you did. We don’t need him starting in about you and that tattoo.”

Marah rolled her eyes skyward, but took the garment from her sister’s hands and wrapped it around her shoulders to cover her back. She met Eden’s gaze, her mother’s eyes scolding her from her sister’s face. Her tattoos had always been a bone of contention between her and her family, her parents vehemently disapproving of her body art. She took a deep breath and then a second, blowing warm breath out slowly.

“Wish me luck,” she intoned, reaching out to hug the two women who had been her best friends since the day she’d been born. Their father’s booming voice sounded from the top of the stairwell.

“What’s luck got to do with anything?” he asked as he made his way down the stairs. “You’re playing in the big leagues now, Marah Jean. Them Stallion boys wheel and deal every day. They’re making multimillion dollar decisions for breakfast and spitting out the small players for lunch. They’re at the top of their game because they’re supersmart. You’re going to need your brain, munchkin. Not luck.”

His daughters stared at him, all three standing with their mouths wide open. Before either of them could say anything, his eyes narrowed into thin slits.

“Where’s the rest of your dress, young lady?” he asked, his stare racing the length of Marah’s body.

The young woman stammered, her mouth opening and closing as she sucked in air. She looked toward her sisters for help, heaving a sigh of relief when Marla came to her rescue.

“That’s the style now, Daddy. That dress is too cute on her!” she exclaimed, Eden nodding her agreement.

“Humph,” Edward grunted, not at all convinced.

Marah quickly changed the subject. “Where are you going?” she asked, admiring the black tuxedo he sported.

Eden reached to adjust the patriarch’s bow tie and collar. “You look quite dashing, Daddy,” she said.

Edward grinned. “Why thank you very much! And, I’m joining you for dinner,” he said to Marah as he extended his elbow in her direction, his palm pressed flat against his abdomen. “Shall we?”

Marah smiled back, her eyes wide with surprise as she pressed her arm through her father’s. “I’d be delighted, Mr. Briscoe,” she answered as she allowed him to guide her out the front door to the waiting vehicle. “Simply delighted!”

Chapter 4

The drive to the magnificent Preston Hollow estate on Audubon Avenue would have taken Marah’s breath away had she been breathing. But Marah felt as if she’d been holding her breath since she and her father stepped into the vehicle, the patriarch chatting away as if this was something that they did every day. Edward didn’t seem to notice that Marah was twisting her fingers together nervously, anxiety flushing her face with color. She was nervous and excited about seeing John Stallion again and she couldn’t ever remember being nervous or excited about any man.

The driver stopped at the entrance to the grand home. Constructed of Austin stone with copper accents and a tile roof, the European-style residence easily encompassed some fifteen thousand square feet of living space. It sat on some sizeable acreage as well, and Marah took in the expanse of landscaping that boasted a putting green, an Olympic-size swimming pool and tennis courts. It didn’t, however, begin to compare to the ranch.

Edward barely blinked as they made their way to the iron-and-glass entrance, moving as if this was all an everyday occurrence. At the door he depressed the button for the doorbell, tossing Marah a quick wink as they waited for someone to answer.

Their wait was brief as the receptionist Marah had encountered that morning at the entrance to the Stallion conference room opened the front door. The woman smiled warmly as she greeted them both by name and then leaned to kiss Edward’s lips.

The gesture took Marah by complete surprise, and the expression across her face showed her displeasure. In all her life she had only seen her mother kiss her father like that and so the moment did not sit well with Marah at all. She could feel herself bristle, tension adding to the stress she had already been feeling.

The other woman’s voice intruded on Marah’s thoughts.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you, dear. I’ve heard a lot about you and your sisters.”

Imagine that, Marah thought to herself. We’ve never heard anything about you. Marah forced a smile onto her face. “Thank you,” she said. “How do you know my father?”

His eyes avoiding hers, Edward answered the question, clearing his throat before he spoke. “Juanita and I are old friends.”

It was on the tip of Marah’s tongue to ask how old “old” was, but the moment passed as Juanita Hilton escorted them into the formal living space of the home, her arm now looped through Marah’s father’s arm.

Conversation stopped as Marah and her father stepped from the foyer into a handsome study that was complemented by Brazilian cherrywood floors, wall-to-wall built-in bookcases and a beamed ceiling. The four Stallion men had stood in deep discussion, debating the merits of a mutual fund portfolio when their attention was diverted in her direction. Those four pairs of eyes were appraising her for the second time that day. And Marah stared back, meeting each gaze one by one, noting the expensive tuxedos each wore to perfection. Black suits adorning picture-perfect, rock-hard physiques. She suddenly felt like a kid with a sweet tooth in a candy shop.

Matthew Stallion greeted them first, extending his hand toward her father before formally introducing himself to Marah.

“We’re glad you and your father could join us this evening, Marah.”

“Thank you,” she responded politely.

Edward shook hands with each of them in turn, an easy camaraderie obvious between them all. Marah suddenly had a long list of questions she intended to ask the old man before the evening was over.

John Stallion was the last brother to step forward to greet them.

“Let me take your wrap for you,” he said as he stepped behind her, his fingers grazing hers as she allowed the garment to slip from her shoulders.

The man was awestruck. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Marah. He was held hostage by bare skin, her attire screaming for attention. Her entire back was exposed. She wore just the hint of a forest-green silk dress, a triangle of fabric that draped into a valley of deep cleavage and stopped mere inches past her southern quadrant to wrap around the shelf of her buttocks. The halter-style dress was tied with a wisp of silk ribbon at the neck and waist.

John found himself dazzled by the expanse of tattoo that painted the woman’s back. Starting just below her hairline, an intricate depiction of scrolls and flowers was detailed in magnificent color against her warm complexion, seeming to stop somewhere past the curve of her buttocks. He marveled at the tattoo’s intricacy, having never seen such a display of artwork on a woman before. Not one other blemish marred her skin, the tone so smooth and even that one could only imagine how soft and sweet she might be in a man’s arms. He resisted an urge to draw his finger against her bare flesh.

He wasn’t used to the sensations sweeping through him, his blood surging as it simmered through his veins. Since their brief encounter in the elevator and their abrupt introduction in his boardroom, John felt as if his whole world had changed and John wasn’t one to like a whole lot of change. But everything felt different. He felt different, as if some piece of that woman was crawling just beneath the surface of his skin, pleasant but irritating. With her suddenly in his presence, standing so close that the fragrant scent of her perfume was teasing his nostrils, it was almost too much for him to take. He suddenly pondered whether or not a shot or two of straight scotch might calm his frazzled nerves. John shook his head, trying to clear the rush of confusion that threatened to consume him as he still stood staring like he’d lost his mind.

Marah could feel his eyes burning over her flesh and she smiled slyly. Working her assets came naturally and she paused just long enough for him to get a good look before she spun slowly in his direction to face him. She shifted her weight from one hip to the other, accentuating the curve of her buttocks and the narrow line of her thin waist. “Cat got your tongue, Mr. Stallion?”