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There was a pile of client portfolios on his desk screaming for his attention. Half his day had already been shot to hell haggling with his younger brother, and thoughts of that woman kept creeping into his mind. That woman. Mark’s body quivered at the thought of Michelle, the cool chill racing the length of his spine having become too familiar since the two had met.
Mark was finding it difficult to rationalize what was happening to him. Never before had any woman consumed his waking moments the way Michelle Coleman kept invading his mind. Especially not a woman he’d not even had an opportunity to take to dinner yet. For crying out loud, he thought to himself, shifting in his seat, the two had only met for five short minutes, the woman barely giving him a second look. He couldn’t begin to believe how love struck he was suddenly acting.
DEBORAH FLETCHER MELLO
is the author of eight romance novels. Her first novel, Take Me to Heart, earned her a 2004 Romance Slam Jam nomination for Best New Author. In 2005 she received Book of the Year and Favorite Heroine nominations for her novel The Right Side of Love. For Deborah, writing is akin to breathing, and she firmly believes that if she could not write she would cease to exist.
A true renaissance woman, Deborah’s many career paths have included working as a retail buyer and size model for a national women’s clothing chain; a finance manager for a well-known beverage organization; a sales manager for a candy company; a telecommunications administrator and corporate trainer for a hotel-owning company; an art gallery director for a world-renowned artist; and an administrative consultant for multiple organizations throughout the United States. Deborah is also a licensed real-estate broker and general building contractor.
Born and raised in Fairfield County, Connecticut, Deborah now calls North Carolina home.
Tame a Wild Stallion
Deborah Fletcher Mello
Dear Reader,
I so love what I do! I have been so blessed and I understand that it has been a generous and loving God who has lifted me up and enabled me to do this.
Thank you for taking this amazing journey with me. I know beyond any doubt that if it were not for you this experience would have been short-lived. Your words of encouragement and support continue to keep me writing, and motivate me to write well.
I have been living and breathing the Stallion men for months now and with each one, I am more in love with the idea of love! I so hope that you enjoy getting to know each one and that you fall in love with my Texas boys just like I have.
Until the next time, take care and God bless.
With much love,
Deborah Fletcher Mello
www.deborahmello.blogspot.com
For “Johnny”
Without your strength and support I would not have
been able to get through this. Thank you for your love.
Please know that you have my heart, now and always.
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
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 1
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with this car,” Michelle Coleman intoned, attitude edging her voice as she eyed the man before her. “You keep trying to find something wrong and for the umpteenth time, there’s nothing wrong with your car.”
Her well-dressed client rolled his eyes, pursing his lips as if his face hurt, the muscles contorting in response. “Mitch, I drive this car every day. I should know when it doesn’t feel right,” the man responded, calling her by the nickname she’d gone by since she’d been a child.
“Look, Doc, I do the maintenance on this car regularly. At least once a week I’ve got my head stuck under the hood because you’re sure something’s wrong and every time I tell you there is absolutely nothing wrong with your damn car.”
Dr. Marcus Shepherd bristled, exasperation fueling his words. “Just check it for me, Mitch. Please,” he implored.
Michelle swiped her hands on a dirty rag hanging from the rear pocket of her coveralls. She shook her head, strands of jet-black hair falling from the tight bun she’d twisted at the nape of her neck. Annoyance painted lines across her very pretty face. The three old men watching in amusement from the other side of the room couldn’t miss the beauty that peeked from behind the grease and grime she wore like bad makeup.
She heaved a deep sigh before finally speaking. “Uncle Simon, bill Dr. Shepherd for two hours of my time while I check his engine, please,” Michelle said, turning her attention to the elderly man who stood patiently behind the desk waiting to see how the exchange was going to play out.
Behind her, Dr. Shepherd nodded eagerly. “Thanks, Mitch, I really appreciate this,” the man said softly. “Do you really think it’s going to take two hours?”
Michelle shook her head from side to side. “No. I doubt that it’ll take me all of two minutes to find absolutely nothing wrong with your car, but since you want to waste my time you might as well pay me for it,” she said, moving in the direction of the garage bays.
Dr. Shepherd watched her, his gaze falling on the sway of her full hips as she glided toward the exit. Color suddenly rose to his cheeks as he twisted his fingers together nervously. “Maybe when you’re done, Mitch, you and I can go get something to eat or maybe we can catch a movie and then do some dinner?”
Michelle paused and did an about-face. She studied the man who stood eagerly in wait of an answer and then she laughed, her head shaking from side to side. “Uncle Simon, bill the doctor for three hours. It’s going to take me at least an hour to get over that stupid question.” Her head still waved like a loose ball bearing against her neck, as she turned to face the man, her hands clutching her ample hips. “Doc, I know you’ve fallen down and bumped your big head now. Is that why you keep bringing this car in here, hoping I’ll go out with you?”
The doctor shrugged, his shoulders pushing up toward the ceiling. “A man can hope, can’t he?”
Michelle rolled her eyes and moved back through the large doors that led from the office into the work area. She was still waving her head from side to side at the man’s audacity, chuckling loudly as she disappeared from sight.
Dr. Shepherd heaved a deep sigh, turning his attention back to the other men, who stood staring at him from the corner. Simon Coleman grinned as he extended his hand, the other mechanic pressing a ten-dollar bill into his palm. Every few weeks Michelle’s uncle made the same bet about one of the clients making a play for Michelle and getting shut down fast and hard. His bets had paid off handsomely, ten-dollar bills lining his pockets like gold. If there was any one thing the old man was certain of, it was that his niece could shut a man down faster and harder than any other woman he’d ever known.
Mark Stallion ran his hand across the handlebars of his brand-new Gold Wing, the touring motorcycle a combination of power, luxury and extreme sporting capability. His brother John stood with him, both admiring the classic lines of the Honda vehicle. John had to admit that the dark-blue metallic vehicle with its gleaming chrome accessories was truly a specimen of perfection, if you liked that sort of thing. Mark called it his private jet on two wheels, one of the many expensive big-boy toys he’d acquired over the past few years.
“You’re looking good, boy!” John exclaimed, admiring Mark’s black leather jacket and pants.
“I’m feeling good,” Mark answered, tightening the strap on his helmet. “As soon as I get the bike tuned up I’m out of here. I’m looking forward to being on the road for a while.” He shifted the bike’s weight off its kickstand and onto its wheels.
John nodded, understanding his sibling’s need to be away. The two had been manning the reins of Stallion Enterprises since forever, the large corporation boasting success with its shipping company, many real estate investments and assorted entertainment ventures. All of the Stallion men, brothers Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were committed heart and soul to the family business, rarely taking time out for some much needed rest and relaxation.
Where John’s conservative disposition rarely allowed him any time to play, he greatly admired his brother’s fortitude and free spirit. Mark hardly ever succumbed to tradition or directives. Of the Stallion siblings, Mark was the brother with a penchant for fast cars and even faster women, rarely slowing down, as if he were afraid he might miss something in his young life. With over two million miles of paved road across the United States, Mark was intent on satisfying his wander-lust every which way he could and his annual jaunt to the Carolina coast for the black bike festival was only one of those ways.
“Just be careful, and stay in touch,” John said, his arms crossing over his chest.
Mark nodded. “How can I forget? You stay on my back about that.”
“Just you remember that, too,” John said, smiling from ear to ear.
Mark shook his head, a wide grin filling his face. “Look at you! You’re gushing!” The man shuddered, pretending to shake his body vehemently. “You’re grinning like you’re still on your honeymoon, John. Don’t get too close to me. That mindset might be contagious.”
“You could stand to catch some of this. This is good for the soul.”
Mark rolled his eyes, swinging his leg over to straddle his bike. “I don’t want any part of that mess. There are too many beautiful women out here in need of attention. I’ve still got my work cut out for me and I do plan to work hard this weekend.”
John chuckled. “I’m sure some woman will slow you down soon enough. I use to say the same thing, remember? Then I met Marah. When that bug bites, it bites hard.”
“Sounds like something I need to get an inoculation for,” Mark said, laughing. He checked his equipment one last time and then started the engine.
John took a step back out of his way. “Stay in touch. Let us know where we can find you,” he said, brotherly concern wafting into his tone. “And keep yourself safe. You’re one of my best friends.”
“You already have two of them,” Mark said, referring to their two brothers.
John smiled. “Three’s a charm.”
Mark smiled back. “Always has been in my book as well.” He gave his brother a quick wink as he adjusted his helmet one last time. “I love you, bro!”
“I love you, too. Have some fun!” John chimed.
As Mark gunned the bike’s engine and headed out the driveway of the family estate, John waved his hand after him. Mark waved back. Without a second notion, Mark headed east, a warm May breeze pushing against his back.
The old man had called her twice now, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Michelle was purposely ignoring him.
“Mitch! What are you doing?” Simon questioned for the umpteenth time that day.
The young woman rolled her eyes, still refusing to respond. Michelle couldn’t help but think that her entire life resembled the undercarriage of the sports car she was staring up at. The mechanics of the vehicle were pristine, everything maneuvering so smoothly that she almost questioned why she was lying on her back beneath the aluminum frame and Fiberglas body examining the nuts and bolts of it. The owner whining that he was so sure something had to be wrong was the only reason she was now wasting her time.
Most things in Michelle’s life were going as smoothly, but it hadn’t always been that way. Years had passed since Michelle’s life had been a profusion of everything going wrong that could. So much so that she now found herself spending far too much time worrying about what might go awry if she weren’t careful, wasting energy that she could have been using elsewhere. Clearly though, her most pressing problem at the moment was her uncle’s annoying drone. The man’s voice intruded on her thoughts as he kicked lightly at her steel-toed work boots.
“Hey, girl! You all right under there?”
“I’m busy, Uncle Simon. What’s the matter?”
“The doctor wants to know if you found anything yet.”
Michelle rolled herself from beneath the car, her eyes pressed into thin slits as she stared up toward the patriarch. “Uncle Simon, do me a favor and tell the good doctor I said if he doesn’t stop being a royal pain in my…”
Her uncle raised an index finger in her direction, shaking it vigorously as he stalled the harsh words about to spill past her lips. “Watch your mouth, young lady.”
Michelle sighed with exasperation, pausing a quick moment to contain her attitude. “Tell Dr. Shepherd that I will be right in,” she said finally.
“And there’s a man here to see you about his motorcycle. Him and the doctor seem to know each other. He said his brother recommended you.”
“Who’s his brother?”
The older man shrugged. “That was the one thing he didn’t say.”
She nodded. “Fine. But he’s my last customer today. I want to work on my own ride today if I get the chance,” she said, eyeing the classic 1969 Shelby GT500 that sat in the corner of the shop, the floor around it littered with parts and pieces.
Simon tossed her a toothy grin. “Do me a favor, girl. Make that fool ask you out again. I’ve got another ten bucks riding on it,” he said, winking in Michelle’s direction.
The young woman scowled. “One day, old man, you’re going to lose.”
“Not the way you be treatin’ these young fellows around here I won’t,” Simon responded. “A man don’t stand a chance with you.”
“I just haven’t found the right man yet, Uncle,” she said, grinning as she rolled herself back beneath the car. “Just not yet,” she finished, her voice echoing from beneath the vehicle.
Simon grinned. “Well, then you better hurry up on in here. This boy with the bike actually looks like he can walk and chew gum at the same time. You might get you a real prize if you play your cards right.”
Michelle laughed heartily, the wealth of it ringing into the office behind her uncle. “If that’s a recommendation, Uncle Simon, I’ll pass,” she said, both of them chuckling warmly.
Marcus Shepherd was extolling the virtues of Coleman and Son’s star mechanic as Simon made his way back into the room.
“I swear there is no one better,” the man was saying. Mark Stallion eyed him with reservation.
Mark looked down to the watch on his wrist. “Well, my brother Luke highly recommended him,” he said. “Figured now was as good a time as any to see what the man can do.”
The doctor grinned. “You’ve never met Mitch, have you?”
“No. Why?”
The men holding up space in the room all laughed, but before the physician could respond, Simon closed the heavy metal door harshly behind him.
“Mitch be right here,” he said, breathing heavily, as if he’d just run a mile-long race. “Doc, you ready to write that check now?”
“We figure out what’s wrong with my car?” the man questioned, an eyebrow raising hopefully.
“Like I’ve told you time and time again, nothing,” a deep alto voice responded from the entranceway to the work area. “Not one blessed thing.”
Like the others, Mark turned in the direction of the doorway and the beguiling tone that drew their attention.
The female before him cut a quick eye in his direction, catching his gaze and holding it ever so briefly before moving to stand behind the office counter. Mark’s gaze followed her, taking in the silhouette that defined her femininity beneath the clothing that did nothing to flatter her very female figure. His eyes widened curiously, his interest piqued as she scolded the doctor, one of his brother John’s many fraternity brothers.
“Don’t bring that car back in here, Doc. And I mean it. I swear if I see you or that vehicle again in the next three months, I’m pulling the engine and you won’t be riding in it ever again. You got me?”
Marcus chuckled. “Yes, ma’am!”
Michelle handed the man an invoice, holding her hand out patiently as he wrote her a check for her services. When their transaction was complete, the good doctor waved goodbyes, and she turned her attention to the man who’d been eyeing her curiously, looking him up and down.
The brother was one good-looking specimen of manhood, Michelle thought, admiring Mark’s rugged good looks. The leather attire added to his bad-boy appeal, the ensemble complementing his mahogany complexion, full lips and shoulder-length dreadlocks. But good-looking men in Dallas were a dime a dozen, she mused, barely allowing herself to pause to admire the line of his chiseled features and haunting eyes. “How can I help you?” Michelle asked, her gaze meeting his evenly.
“You’re Mitch?” he asked, surprise in his tone.
Michelle dropped a hand to her hip, shifting her weight. “You have a problem with that?”
Mark shrugged, a sly smile pulling at the line of his full lips. “No. Not at all. I just wasn’t expecting a girl.”
“You didn’t get a girl,” Michelle snapped, annoyance creeping into her voice. “I’m a grown woman and don’t you forget it. So what can we do for you, Mr…?”
“Stallion. Mark Stallion,” the man answered, only a touch flustered by her contentious tone. He composed himself quickly, a wide smile filling his dark face. “My brother Luke said you’d be able to look over my bike for me. I’m headed to South Carolina and I just wanted to make sure she’s road ready.”
Michelle lifted her eyebrows, her head bobbing up and down ever so slightly. Her disposition softened ever so slightly. “So, you’re one of Luke’s brothers. How is he? I haven’t heard from him in a while.”
Mark shrugged. “He’s well. How do you two know each other?” he asked curiously.
Michelle smiled, her eyes shimmering beneath the room’s dim lights. She didn’t bother to answer his question as she made her way from behind the counter to his side. As she paused in front of him, the top of her head barely reaching his chin, the light fragrance of a floral perfume mixed with a hint of motor oil teased his nostrils. Mark took a deep inhale, filling his lungs with the scent of her. He suddenly felt drunk with longing, the woman’s imposing stare, commanding demeanor and gorgeous smile taking control of his senses. The feeling was unsettling, leaving Mark speechless.
“Roll your bike into the garage. The third bay. I’ll get you on the road in no time,” Michelle said, gesturing toward the work area.
Nodding, Mark moved toward the exit. Tossing a quick look back over his shoulder, he couldn’t miss Michelle staring after him. He also didn’t miss the fact that she’d not bothered to respond to his question and now his curiosity was seriously heightened. He couldn’t wait to talk to his little brother to find out what was up with him and that woman.
Chapter 2
Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, was hot and Mark wasn’t thinking about the ninety-plus-degree weather as he rolled up in front of Bimini’s Oyster Bar and Seafood Café. The restaurant was one of his favorite haunts when he was in the area and he’d been thinking about their conch fritters since he’d crossed the border out of Georgia.
As he swung his large body off his vehicle, loosening the strap to his helmet, a group of scantily clad women caught his eye, the trio eyeing him hungrily. The bike event had no shortage of half-dressed females in want of attention, and Mark had always been amazed by how brazen some of them could be. Just that morning a buxom sister with platinum-blond braids in a string bikini that was more string than swimsuit had climbed right onto the back of his motorcycle, grabbing his crotch firmly as she’d whispered a proposition into his ear.
Mark had to admit the offer had been tempting, but he’d politely turned her down, removing her grip from the front of his denim jeans as he’d sent her in the other direction. He shook his head at the memory then turned his attention back to his bike, not even bothering to acknowledge the three young women who were shaking their goodies for his attention. It suddenly dawned on him that he hadn’t sought out any female companionship since his arrival. He pulled the back of his hand to his forehead to check if he might be running a temperature, certain that he had to have a fever.
His thoughts were interrupted by a slap on his shoulder, his attention turning to his good friend and riding buddy, Vanessa Long, who greeted him cheerily. Vanessa was waving her head from side to side, her caramel-colored eyes bulging at the wealth of eye candy that she found so tempting.
“Did you see the bootie on that babe? Her mama sure ’nuf blessed her!” the woman exclaimed excitedly.
Mark laughed. “Down girl! You’re about to hurt yourself.”
Vanessa laughed with him. “Yes, I am and I’m going to enjoy every second of the pain.”
“Where’d you disappear to?” Mark asked as he secured his belongings in the side satchel on his bike. “One minute you were riding beside me and the next minute you were gone,” he said as he and his friend made their way toward the restaurant’s front entrance.
Vanessa grinned sheepishly. “Had to partake in some V-Twin foreplay,” the woman said with a laugh.
Mark winced, shaking his head from side to side. He held up his hands in surrender. “Stop. Don’t tell me any more,” he said jokingly.
Vanessa laughed. “I met me a new friend from Florida. Baby girl likes a Harley so we rode up a steep hill, I shifted into low and the rest is history.”
Mark laughed with her. He and Vanessa had grown up together, best friends since they’d met in elementary school. Vanessa had been all tomboy and her daredevil antics had rivaled his own, making their friendship a nice match. For a brief stint in high school they’d been boyfriend and girlfriend, the passion in their relationship never amounting to much of anything. Then in college Vanessa had admitted her predilection for women, turning their friendly rivalry up two notches. Mark had only been slightly disturbed when the woman had begun to be open about her interests. Interests that ran the same line as his. But over time they’d found their balance, Vanessa acting as if she were just one of the boys and he and his brothers treating her as such.
Inside the restaurant a young waiter with a short, blond bowl cut guided the duo to a booth as he handed them menus, promising to be right back with the two Heineken beers they ordered.
“This truly has been one good time,” Vanessa exclaimed as they settled down for a relaxing lunch.
“Always is,” Mark said, nodding his agreement. “There’s nothing like it.”
Both sat in deep reflection, thinking about the tons of parties and events that typically occurred throughout the five-day weekend. Revelers packed the hotels, the beaches were swamped, the streets packed with bikes and cars, and no matter where you were you could smell the barbecue grilling. In all of his travels, Mark hadn’t found another party quite like it.
“So, how’s the new bike handling?” Vanessa asked, lifting her cold bottle of brew to her thin lips.
Mark nodded. “She’s been sweet,” he answered, thoughts of his encounter with Michelle Coleman rising to the forefront of his mind. “The mechanic did a nice job,” he added.