Deborah Fletcher Mello

Tame a Wild Stallion


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      Mark resisted the sudden urge to take a step closer to her, the sweet scent of her perfume rising like a warm mist around them. I already have, he thought to himself, fighting not to say the words out loud. Instead he said, “I might,” his voice seeming to drop an octave. “I guess if you’re single you can always use a little help with finding romance. Don’t you agree?”

      Michelle nodded. “I do, but I imagine you’ve got plenty of game when it comes to dealing with women.”

      “Oh, I’ve got game,” Mark said with a soft chuckle. “I’ve got great game. My problem is I keep losing the game.”

      Michelle laughed with him. ‘Well, that’s not a good thing.”

      “No, it isn’t.”

      The noise level in the room seemed to rise an octave as they stood in discussion. Mark suddenly wanted Michelle all to himself as they continued their conversation, oblivious to everyone else around them. He gestured for her to follow as he headed in the direction of Marah’s office, leaving the noise and laughter of the crowd behind them.

      “That’s better,” Mark said as he closed the door to the inner sanctuary. “I can hear myself think now.”

      “It did start to get a little noisy in there,” Michelle answered.

      Mark smiled as he leaned back against the large wooden desk that sat room center. Resting against the edge, he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to appear as anxious as he felt.

      “So, tell me more about this race team,” Michelle said, eyeing him curiously.

      Mark shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’m looking forward to the upcoming time trials. I think my team will do very well this season. This project is my baby and I’m out to prove myself.”

      “Have you been racing long?”

      “A few years now. How about you? I know you can fix ’em but do you ride as well?”

      Michelle nodded. “I don’t race but I learned to ride before I learned to walk. My father drove for Rockman Racing.”

      A look of surprise crossed Mark’s face. “Really? Who was your father?”

      Michelle paused briefly before answering. “Brent Coleman.”

      There was a moment of recognition, the stories of Brent Coleman’s demise washing over Mark’s face. “I didn’t know,” he said softly, suddenly embarrassed. “My condolences for your loss.”

      Michelle gave him a quick smile. “Thank you. And it’s okay. I don’t mind talking about my father.”

      “I understand. I lost both my parents in an automobile accident when I was very young so I know what that’s like.”

      Michelle was staring at him with glazed eyes. Her stare seemed to gently caress Mark’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

      Mark shrugged. “Let’s change the subject. So, what do you do in your free time?”

      “Repair engines,” Michelle answered with a low chuckle.

      Mark laughed as well. “Okay, but I’m sure you entertain yourself with other things as well.”

      The young woman nodded. “I do. I love anything that gives me an adrenaline rush, and engines give me one heck of a rush!”

      Mark nodded slowly, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly.

      Michelle laughed. “Strap one onto your back and I’ll show you what I mean,” she said, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could catch them.

      Mark roared, mirth spilling between them like water from a faucet.

      A wave of silence washed over the two of them as both gathered their thoughts, thoroughly enjoying the moment and the company. Michelle heaved a low sigh, color flooding her cheeks.

      “Are you okay?” Mark asked.

      Her head bobbed slightly. “This might be a little forward, Mark, but are you involved with anyone?” she asked, staring into his eyes.

      He shook his head, his eyes widening brightly. “No, I’m not. Are you?” he asked, finally taking that step toward her.

      The two were suddenly so close that Michelle could feel the heat from his body melting into her own. The power of the moment seemed to surface with a vengeance, taking full control. The rise in temperature was consuming, perspiration beading from her pores. Before she could catch herself, she’d pressed the length of her manicured fingers against his chest, the beat of his heart pulsating against her palm. As she lifted her eyes to meet his, Mark pressed one palm against the back of her hand and the other around her waist, drawing Michelle closer to him.

      Before either could utter another word, the office door swung open, Marah and her sister rushing in from the other side. Both Marah and Eden looked from one to the other, concern filling their faces. Behind them, Luke was shaking his head anxiously. Michelle felt as if she’d been caught with her hands in the cookie jar, and a wave of embarrassment swept over her.

      Mark took two quick steps back, his cheeks heated with color. When he caught sight of the young woman following on Marah’s heels, his expression dropped straight to the floor.

      Marah spoke first. “Mark, we found you,” she said, her churlish tone causing him to cringe.

      He nodded, trying to mask his discomfort. “Mitch and I were just talking,” he said anxiously, his gaze sweeping from one face to another.

      The woman behind Marah pushed her way forward, moving to the front of the crowd. She extended her hand in Michelle’s direction. “Hello, I’m Vanessa Long. Mark’s fiancée.”

      Michelle shot Mark a quick look then stared back as Marah finished the introductions.

      “Vanessa, this is Michelle Coleman, a close friend of Luke’s.”

      The other woman gushed politely. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She looped an arm through Mark’s, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Hi, honey. I told you I’d make it!”

      Chapter 5

      “Men make me sick,” Michelle muttered for the umpteenth time. She kicked her high-heeled pumps from her size-seven feet as she settled the length of her body against a plush sofa.

      “We’re not all that bad,” Simon offered, leaning the wealth of his weight against the back of the upholstered furniture. He gently massaged the young woman’s shoulders, both staring in the direction of the flat-screen television playing with the volume turned down.

      “In fact,” the elderly man continued, “there are a few of us who are actually quite decent,” he said matter-of-factly.

      “Well, clearly there is nothing decent about Mark Stallion. The man lied,” Michelle said, meeting her uncle’s gaze. “He straight up lied to me. No, I’m not involved with anyone,” she said, mimicking Mark’s comments. “So, what was that all about with him and his fiancée?”

      Simon shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you,” he answered. “He didn’t say anything else?”

      “I didn’t give him a chance. I was sure he was just going to tell some more lies so I walked out.” She heaved a deep sigh.

      Her uncle squeezed her shoulder gently. “I’m sorry, Mitch. I had really hoped you’d have a good time.”

      Michelle heaved another sigh, warm breath blowing past her lips into the air-conditioned room. “Liars and cheats,” Michelle muttered. “All of ’em. Liars and cheats.”

      Simon chuckled. “Well, at least you found out before it went anywhere rather than afterward.”

      Michelle nodded in agreement. “He sure seemed like a great guy though, Uncle Simon,” she said wistfully.

      Simon