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Shameless
Kimberly Raye
Deb Strickland has her hands full–keeping her small newspaper in the black and her hands off hunky Jimmy Mission. The seriously sexy rancher has come home to settle down–and that's definitely not in Deb's plans. But faced with Jimmy's killer cowboy charm, Deb's awfully tempted to settle in with him for the duration…Jimmy is looking for a wife–really. Only he can't seem to keep his mind off sassy city gal, Deb Strickland. He knows Deb wouldn't be much good on a ranch–but he'd bet she's incredible in bed! And as much as he wants the sexy, smart-mouthed beauty, he knows he'll never find out–unless he makes Deb an offer she can't refuse. An offer that's absolutely 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 (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my mother, for always being there.
You’re the best!
Contents
Prologue (#u0d183c1c-0de6-5862-a484-52cb8642f361)
Chapter 1 (#uf4cd479e-39fa-50f6-be6e-a9d65d18bdda)
Chapter 2 (#ufc0243b4-b849-5bf8-a40f-458031e2a6a3)
Chapter 3 (#uf4ae51d9-d9ad-5ffb-9c08-0a8ef4e80511)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
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.
