A Stallion's Touch

The sweetest medicine

Nicholas Stallion’s championship dreams are almost within reach. The star quarterback has lucrative endorsement deals, A-list friends and beautiful women on call...until a play-off injury changes his life. He’s angry at the world—and butting heads with family friend Dr. Tarah Boudreaux. Yet the ambitious neurosurgeon’s unwavering encouragement sparks an intimacy that blindsides them both.

The Nicholas that Tarah met before the accident had wealth, fame and charm. All of that pales in comparison to the driven, determined man she’s falling for now. And when a captivating first kiss leads to an intensely tender moment, she knows she’s in way over her head. But with a jealous rival in the mix, Nicholas must be willing to make the ultimate play, or lose a love he had never dreamed of finding...

“We’re standing under the mistletoe,” he said softly, a hint of laughter in his tone.

Tarah’s gaze moved from his face upward to where he pointed. A ball of mistletoe, brightly trimmed with evergreens and a red velvet ribbon dangled precariously above them. She turned her gaze back to his, staring into his dark eyes. “Christmas is officially over.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It still counts. At least until New Year’s.”

“Says who?”

“It’s an old family tradition. If you stand under the mistletoe, you can’t refuse to be kissed.”

“We don’t have that tradition in my family.”

“You’re in Stallion territory. In this house those are the rules.”

“Says who?”

“Says every man named Stallion in this family. Just ask them if you don’t believe me.”

Tarah crossed her arms over her chest, her stance widening as she faced him full on. It was a standoff of magnanimous proportions as they stared intensely at each other. Nicholas was actually taken aback when Tarah suddenly moved against him, pressing both her hands against his chest. The heat between them rose like a firestorm intent on vengeance.

Dear Reader,

I am so excited about Tarah Boudreaux and Nicholas Stallion’s story that I could just bust! Pairing a Stallion with a Boudreaux came naturally once I discovered the Utah branch of the Stallion family tree. This connection felt all kinds of right!

A Stallion’s Touch is all about love. Love overcoming obstacles. Love unexpected. Love manifested from the deepest friendship. Tarah and Nicholas’s story is love in all its exquisite glory!

Family and faith are the cornerstone of all my Stallion-Boudreaux stories, and this one is no different. Faith and trust in a higher power are the reasons Tarah and Nicholas are able to transcend doubt and fears and overcome their trials and tribulations. Together they are fire and fire, and it doesn’t get any better than that.

Thank you so much for your continued support. I am humbled by all the love you keep showing me, my characters and our stories. I know that none of this would be possible without you.

Until next time, please take care and may God’s blessings be with you always.

With much love,

Deborah Fletcher Mello

www.DeborahMello.blogspot.com

A Stallion’s Touch

Deborah Fletcher Mello

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DEBORAH FLETCHER MELLO has been writing since forever and can’t imagine herself doing anything else. Her first romance 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, and in 2009 she won an RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award for her ninth novel, Tame a Wild Stallion. With each new book Deborah continues to create unique storylines and memorable characters.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Family Tree

Prologue

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

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Injection Bar was congested, overrun with medical students from Tulane University School of Medicine. The staff was working harder than normal to keep up. Tarah Boudreaux hated to add to the confusion but lifted her hand for the bartender’s attention. He was tall and blond with strong Nordic features and long windblown locks, and his denim jeans and bright white T-shirt fit like a glove. He tossed her a responsive nod and gestured with his index finger. Tarah gave him a bright smile and turned her attention back to the makeshift stage.

It was the third Friday in March, Match Day. The day when graduating medical students nationwide discovered the hospital residency programs they’d been paired with to complete their graduate medical training. Tarah had interviewed with five medical facilities across the United States and although she had narrowed the list down to her top two favorites, she would gladly have gone wherever the wind blew her.

She and her fellow classmates were following a time-honored tradition, announcing the hospitals they’d been matched with over the bar’s sound system. She clapped as another student with fire-engine-red hair and a lumberjack beard jumped excitedly when they called his name and waved him to the front.

“One Corona with a wedge of lime!” the bartender suddenly said, shouting over the noise into her ear.

Tarah jumped slightly, her smile still bright as she took the beer bottle from his hand. “Thanks, Milton! Put it on my brother’s tab, please?”

Milton laughed. “Kendrick said he’s not covering your bill any more, Tarah! You know that.”

Tarah rolled her eyes. “Today’s special! It’ll be okay! I promise!”

Milton shook his head. “I swear, girl, you are going to get me fired one day.”

Tarah giggled. “Thank you, Milton!” She gave him a wink of her eye, her lengthy lashes batting teasingly.

He nodded. “Congratulations! And tell your folks I said hello.”

Turning herself back around, Tarah settled into the nervous energy that filled the room. It had taken her nine years to get to this point. Four years of college and five years of medical school—including the two semesters that she’d had to repeat for partying too much—were culminating in this moment.

The Dean of Student Affairs suddenly called her name, waving a white envelope in his hand. Her classmates all cheered, and Tarah felt her knees begin to shake. She chugged back what remained of her bottled brew, then slid off the bar stool and sauntered to the microphone.

Every eye in the room was on her, and she could feel her hand shaking as the dean slid the envelope onto her palm. She took a deep breath and then a second as she slid her thumb beneath the sealed flap and pulled the typed letter from inside. Someone in the back suddenly called her name.

“Get it, Tarah!” And the whole room erupted with a uniform cheer.

She grinned as she quickly read the letter’s contents, and then her smile widened considerably. “Phoenix Hope Surgical Center!” she screamed, jumping up and down excitedly. “I’m going to Arizona!”

The room cheered with her as she rushed back to her seat to hug her friends. As the next person’s name was called, Tarah was still squealing with joy. She’d been matched with her first choice, and she couldn’t have been happier.

* * *

Katherine Boudreaux hugged her tightly, and Tarah melted into her mother’s warm embrace. “We are so proud of you, Tarah!” the matriarch exclaimed.

Tarah’s father, Mason “Senior” Boudreaux, echoed the sentiment. “My baby girl is going to be a surgeon! Hot damn!” he proclaimed as he wiped a tear from his eye.

Tarah was still grinning brightly. “I’m going to Phoenix! It’s the best surgical center and teaching hospital in the nation. And I’ll be training with Dr. Harper! He’s the neurosurgeon of neurosurgeons!” she said, referring to her medical mentor, whose visit to Tulane had inspired Tarah to consider Phoenix Hope in the first place.

Her mother gave her one last squeeze before letting her go. “We need to call the rest of the family to let them know your good news.”

“We could just wait until they come for graduation,” Tarah said, shrugging her shoulders slightly. “Or maybe just send a group text?”

The matriarch tossed her daughter a look. “Nonsense. This is good news. We need to let them all know, personally! Besides, it gives me a reason to call and check on everyone,” Katherine said as she took the telephone receiver into her hand and began to dial.

Tarah turned her attention to her father. “And I can stay at the house in Phoenix, right? That way I won’t need to find an apartment or worry about rent!”

Her father eyed her with a raised brow. The house in Phoenix that she was referring to was the Paradise Valley estate that was actually owned by her oldest brother, Mason Boudreaux III. Mason had bought the property a few short months after Hurricane Katrina when their family had been displaced from their Louisiana home. They’d all lived in Arizona for two years while their Broadway Street property and the city of New Orleans had been rebuilt. Leaving Phoenix had been bittersweet, but Louisiana would forever be home as far as her family was concerned.

Senior lifted his gaze back to her eager stare. “I don’t know about all that. Now that the real estate market has finally started to come back around, your brother has been thinking about selling that house. He and Phaedra like living in Dallas. I don’t see them going back there, and we definitely won’t be moving back to Arizona any time soon.”

“I’ll ask him. Mason will let me stay.”

“That house is too big for you to be living in by yourself,” Katherine noted, her hand cupped over the receiver of the telephone. “We’ll find you a nice studio near the hospital.”

Tarah shifted her gaze skyward. “I’m sure I can find a roommate or two or three.”

Senior’s gaze narrowed. “Now, that’s never going to happen. You and your doctor friends will not be tearing up that house like it’s a party palace.”

Katherine interjected, “I know that idea didn’t just come out of her mouth!”

“Can we at least discuss it?” Tarah shifted her gaze from one parent to the other.

Both answered at the same time, “NO!”

Tarah blew a heavy sigh past her lips. “I’m going to bed, then,” she said as she turned and headed toward the door. “But I’m still calling Mason tomorrow to ask,” she said.

“The answer is still no!” Senior called after her.

Behind her, Tarah could hear her mother’s laughter. “That’s your child. You’re the reason she’s so spoiled,” Katherine said.

“Leave my baby girl alone! That child is just perfect!” her father countered.

* * *

Upstairs in her bedroom, Tarah pinched herself, still in awe of how sweetly things had played out. She’d been accepted into the best teaching hospital in the nation. Phoenix Hope’s surgical program was in a league of its own, and the prospect of completing her medical training there was a dream come true. And to think, they’d chosen her from the thousands of applicants who’d wanted this opportunity just as much as she had. Tears welled hot behind her lids as the magnitude of that fact settled over her.

Sometimes perceived as spoiled and overindulged, Tarah, with her carefree spirit, didn’t often reflect on how seriously she’d taken her medical training. Tarah had wanted to be a doctor since she was six years old and her favorite pediatrician mended her broken arm with a pink cast and a cherry lollipop. Deciding to pursue a surgical vocation had come after a strenuous medical rotation that involved a heart transplant for an aspiring cellist. With the young man’s future renewed on the celebration of his eighteenth birthday, the knowledge that she’d had a part in it made the decision the easiest of her career. From that moment forward, Tarah had buckled down. Her studies were all that mattered.

After a quick shower, she pulled her shoulder-length curls into a tight bun and tied a silk scarf around her head. As she set her alarm clock, she swiped a hand across her face, wiping away the one tear that had finally fallen over her cheek. Minutes later, when her mother peeked in to check on her, Tarah was kneeling at the side of her bed, saying a prayer of gratitude toward the sky.

Chapter 1

Stallion Ranch, the former Briscoe family property, was well over eight hundred acres of working cattle farm, an equestrian center and an entertainment complex that specialized in corporate and private client services.

Edward Briscoe, the ranch’s original owner, had been one of the original black cowboys. Not long after the birth of his three daughters, Eden and the twins, Marla and Marah, he and his first wife had chosen to expand their Texas longhorn operation. They had added two twenty-thousand-square-feet event barns and a country bed-and-breakfast.

After Marah Briscoe’s marriage to business tycoon John Stallion, Edward had gifted the property to them. His daughter’s love for that Stallion had ended the corporate conflict that had brought the couple together in the first place. Under the Stallion family umbrella, the Briscoe property had grown steadily and was now a point of consideration for a number of government programs to assist children and families in need. But the ranch was also home to the Stallions, and the expansive property was truly a sight to behold. Even more so with the wealth of Christmas decor that lined the drive and decorated the extraordinary house.

As Nicholas Stallion pulled his brand-new Jaguar F-Type convertible into the circular driveway, joining the line of luxury vehicles parked in front of the home, he was duly impressed. Although it wasn’t his first time visiting his cousin’s home, each time was just as enthralling as that first. Coming together to spend time with his family made for a textbook feel-good moment, and Nicholas found himself excited to see what this year’s holiday celebration would bring.

Nicholas had met his Texas cousins as an adult, the two limbs of their family tree discovering each other after the sudden death of his mother, Norris Jean Stallion. Norris Jean had been estranged from her family, leaving behind her parents and two younger brothers to follow a man who took her for granted. Nicholas and his siblings had grown up in Utah, never knowing the family left behind in Texas. Some claimed it was Stallion magic that had reconnected them, and now the two branches of the Stallion tree and their extended Boudreaux family in-laws were as thick as thieves.

His cousin John, and John’s wife Marah, met him at the home’s front door, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

“Yo, Nicholas! How was the drive?” John asked, the two men bumping shoulders in a one-armed embrace.

Marah kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas! It’s so good to see you again!”

Nicholas returned the greetings. “The drive was great! Santa brought me an early present, and she’s some sort of sweet,” he said as he gestured over his shoulder toward his new car.

“Very nice!” John exclaimed, shaking his head as he eyed the vehicle from the front porch.

A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the foyer. “You would have been here sooner if you’d caught a plane with the rest of us,” Nicholas’s twin brother, Dr. Nathaniel Stallion, exclaimed.

The twins both chuckled as they greeted each other warmly. “Am I the last one here?” Nicholas questioned.

“No, we’re still waiting for Tarah.”

A moment of confusion washed over the man’s face. “Who’s Tarah?”

“That would be my baby sister,” Mason Boudreaux interjected, suddenly joining the conversation. Mason was married to Nicholas’s cousin Phaedra, the only girl in the Dallas branch of the Stallion clan. “I didn’t realize a few of you still hadn’t met her until my mother pointed it out at breakfast this morning.”

“That’s what a medical residency program will do to you,” Nathaniel interjected. “I remember those days and the family events I missed.”

Mason extended his hand toward Nicholas. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. MVP!”

Nicholas nodded, a wide grin across his face. “You caught that, huh?”

“Who didn’t? That was a bold statement to make,” the other man exclaimed, referring to Nicholas’s most recent postgame interview about his prospective championship intentions.

“More like arrogant,” Nathaniel interjected.

Nicholas laughed as he shook his head. “Smoke and mirrors, bro! You have to give the fans a good show. Besides, I might as well claim the title if I aspire to it, right?”

His twin snorted, his eyes darting skyward.

Noise and laughter vibrated through the home’s interior. Marah waved the men aside. “You all need to let Nicholas get a seat before you inundate us with football talk.” She stole a quick glance at her wristwatch. “And it’s almost time for Santa’s helpers to start putting stuff together. We’ve got two Barbie dollhouses, some racetrack thing and at least six tricycles!”

John laughed. “I think we’ll probably have more fun with the football!”

Marah narrowed her gaze at him. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips, gently pressing her mouth to his. “I like football, too, but not all the time, and not when there are a million things that have to be done to pull off this holiday.”

John laughed as he gave her a light squeeze. “I’ve got you, baby! Don’t you worry about anything. I personally guarantee all your elves and Santa’s helpers will get everything on your list done before the chubby guy falls down that chimney!”

“Nicholas, are you hungry? There’s a ton of food,” Marah said, shifting the conversation.

“I could eat.”

“He never stops eating,” Nathaniel added. “We probably should have warned you!”

Marah laughed. “Naomi did,” she said, referring to their older sister.

A hurricane of noise and limbs suddenly burst through the space, a cavalcade of youngsters racing past the adults. They ranged in age from three to almost twelve and sounded like a hurricane in the making.

“Gabrielle! Irene! Stop running!” Marah admonished. “And I mean it! You two are keeping all your cousins stirred up! Santa’s not coming if you two don’t get it together! How many times do I have to tell you both to set the example for the younger kids?”

Both little girls suddenly came to an abrupt halt, the others falling in line behind them. They eyed Nicholas warily. The younger of the two, Gabrielle Stallion shifted her gaze from his face to the bright white running shoes he wore on his feet. Her eyes moved from him to Nathaniel, shifting as she took in their identical features. She pointed an index finger. “You two are twins!”

The adults laughed.

“That’s right,” Nathaniel said. “This is my twin brother.”

“Gabi, you don’t remember your cousin Nicholas?” John asked, his gaze on his daughter’s face.

Gabi shrugged, the gesture dismissive.

“Did you bring presents? Everyone else brought presents,” Irene Stallion questioned, her small hands resting on her lean hips.

Nicholas laughed. “I did bring presents. They’re still in my car. Are you going to help me carry them in?”

Irene narrowed her gaze on the man’s face. “I’ll go get Collin. He does things like that,” she said with a shrug.

Gabi echoed the sentiment. “Collin does ’dem things. He’s a big boy,” she said.

“Girls can do boy things, too,” Irene said matter-of-factly.

Two of the older boys looked from the girls to the adults. One small voice suddenly spoke up. “Uncle John, are we still going outside to play kick ball?”

John turned his gaze to eye the nine-year-old and ten-year-old staring at him. “We’re ready when you are, Jake. But I thought you and Lorenzo were having fun playing with the girls?”

The youngster named Lorenzo gave them all an exaggerated eye roll. “Irene and Gabi are too bossy,” he said emphatically.

“Am not!” Gabi snarled.

Irene snapped her head in the young boy’s direction, her eyes narrowing into thin slits. “Humph!” she grunted.

Lorenzo’s eyes widened, and he took a step backward, bumping into his cousin Jake.

“I’m playing, too, and I’m going to be the pitcher,” Irene said as she turned on the toes of her cowboy boots. She then tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and moved toward the back of the house.

Gabi gave the boys a take that look as she skipped after her older cousin. The line of noise followed behind the two, the wealth of it rushing toward the other side of the home.

John called after them, “Gabi! Your mother said to stop running!”

Marah tossed up her hands. “You guys know your way to the kitchen. I need to corral the toddler brigade back upstairs to the playroom.”

“I’m still trying to figure out how they all got out!” John exclaimed, his own head shaking.

He and Marah exchanged a look both answering at the same time. “Frick and Frack!” they exclaimed, referring to Gabi and Irene.

Nicholas laughed. “And how old are the girls now?” he asked.

“Gabi is eight and Irene just turned eleven.” Marah answered.

“Eleven going on thirty,” Mark Stallion, John’s brother, suddenly interjected, hearing his daughter’s name. “It’s good to see you, cousin,” he said as he moved to Nicholas’s side to shake his hand.

Marah gave her husband a quick nod. “John Stallion, you have only two hours until all the children need to be in bed. Please tire them out before we all go crazy!” she admonished as she rushed in the direction of the noise, an argument ensuing in the other room between the younger kids.

John laughed. “You are just in time, Nicholas. How are you at running the bases?”

“I’ve never had any problems before,” Nicholas answered, chuckling deeply.

The others all laughed with him.

“Well, Mark’s daughter is one tough cookie,” John interjected. “And she throws a mean ball. You may have just met your match.”

* * *

The men from the Stallion and Boudreaux families and their children were divided into two teams. John was captain of one, and Nicholas had volunteered to lead the other. The women watched from the rear patio as the men and children played kick ball in the makeshift field.