Jan Bowles's Blog, page 3
March 5, 2014
Read the 1st Chapter of The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal Free
Here is the prologue and 1st Chapter of The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal in their entirety. I hope you enjoy it.
The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal is available from Bookstrand HEREAlso Amazon HEREAnd Amazon UK HERE
THE WICKED RANCHER’S INDECENT PROPOSALCarnal Sins 2
JAN BOWLESCopyright © 2014
Prologue
“Goddamn it, Biff. Quit your hollering. You know it’s me.”
The old hound’s incessant barking cut right through Brett Sinclair as he fumbled to get his key in the lock after drinking far too much yet again. It didn’t help that Biff was now fourteen years old and almost totally deaf, meaning that he was easily spooked. Back in the day, every other dog in the neighborhood had feared his faithful companion, but now, in the twilight of his life, Biff’s bark was definitely worse than his bite.
Feeling the worse for wear, Brett finally pushed open the sturdy oak door to the ranch house to be greeted by his best friend. Despite the advancing years, Biff still found enough energy to jump up at him, his ragged tongue basting his neck with an enthusiasm that demonstrated how pleased he was to see his master again.
“Yeah, yeah, I love you, too, buddy. Now calm down, and let me inside.”After slamming the heavy door behind him, Brett staggered to an easy chair by the fireplace before landing heavily on the soft, welcoming cushions. Now he was home again, Biff seemed to simmer down, sitting contentedly at his booted feet before giving a mighty yawn, immediately followed by a whining sigh.
Brett waved a hand in front of his face. “Jesus, buddy, we’re gonna have to do something about that bad breath of yours. It’s starting to peel the paint off the walls. Remind me to put some dental chews on the grocery list for when I next go into town.”
The elderly mongrel of dubious parentage cocked his head to one side, then lifted his left ear, as if he knew exactly what Brett was saying. The old dog then gave another mournful sigh before stretching out and laying his head between his front paws.
“I know exactly how you feel, buddy. Life’s a bitch then you die. I guess you miss your mistress as much as I do.” Still talking to the dog as though he were a human being, Brett continued, “I can’t believe it’s five years to the day since Simone was killed in that fucking car crash, and with my unborn child inside her, too.”
Time and events had hardened him, turning him into a selfish bastard of a man, but even so, Brett still felt the need to wipe the moisture from the corners of his eyes. “Fuck it all. Fuck the world and everything in it.”
He shook his head. “I need another drink.” But he was too tired and wasted to get out of the chair. “Life sucks, buddy. Answer me this, Biff. How the hell does a guy go from being a top Wall Street stockbroker to being someone who doesn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone? How does that happen? Answer me that if you can.”
Biff lifted his head from between his paws to look adoringly at his master. His gray muzzle was clearly visible as the light from the open fire flickered in those nonjudgmental brown eyes.
“You can’t kid me, pal. You don’t have any more answers than I do.”
As if agreeing, Biff let out another mighty yawn, then plonked his head between his paws again and closed his eyes.
The old saying was true—life turns on a dime. The first thirty years of his time on this earth couldn’t have run more smoothly. He’d been happy, healthy, and wealthy, and when Simone did him the honor of becoming his wife, things became perfect. Up until that point, everything had slotted effortlessly into place. That was until a cop by the name of John Cooper had arrived unexpectedly at their penthouse apartment in New York. The guy had that look on his face, the sort that immediately set off warning bells deep in the recesses of his mind.
Detective Cooper had solemnly told him that they believed the heavily pregnant twenty-nine-year-old woman found dead in the mangled Porsche was his beautiful wife Simone. Brett had felt his world begin to crumble when the overweight cop then matter-of-factly said, “I know this must be difficult for you right now, Mr. Sinclair, but we need you to make a formal identification of the body, just to be sure.”
Since that day, his life had started to unravel big-time. Despondency and disillusionment now took the place of the happiness and contentment that had once come so easily to him when Simone was still alive.
He leaned down and stroked his hand along the back of the old hound, enjoying the feel of his rough, coarse coat. Biff was certainly no pampered pooch, but he loved him all the same.
“You’re just a dog, so you don’t know what a debt of gratitude you owe your mistress. She was the kind lady who found you abandoned in a cardboard box when you were a pup so young your eyes were still closed. It was February, and a freezing cold New York day. If she hadn’t changed her route on her way to work and walked past that piece of wasteland, you’d be history right now, pal. She tucked you inside her coat and saved your life. Simone was barely twenty at the time, and still living with her parents. Later on, when we met and decided to go out together for the first time, she told me in no uncertain terms that you came as part of the package. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then, buddy, and I wouldn’t be without you now. You’re a link to the woman I loved. Still love.”
Biff sighed contentedly beneath his touch, snuffling a little.
“Yeah, let’s get some rest.” Brett settled back in the easy chair situated next to the crackling open fire. “Tomorrow’s another day.”
When he closed his eyes, he could still see Simone smiling, just like she’d always done. Just like he’d once done.
Brett Sinclair didn’t smile any more.
What was the point?
Chapter One
As Carly Wilson energetically chopped wood in the yard, she felt her anger with the world steadily growing. Life wasn’t fair. In fact, it sucked. A month ago today, her wonderful father, Jack Wilson, had died at her mother’s bedside. The nursing staff had found his frail, lifeless body, clinging to the woman he loved so dearly. Maybe there was a God after all because her equally wonderful mother, Jane Wilson, was completely unaware that her life partner for the past thirty-five years had gone. Aged just sixty-three, she’d suffered a severe stroke some six months before, and during that time had sadly shown absolutely no signs of awareness.
It was the stress that had killed him. He loved her mother so much that he couldn’t bear to see her in such a comatose, vegetative state, with little or no hope of recovery. Carly figured that at the age of seventy-two, the daily round trip of a hundred and fifty miles to see the woman he adored had finally proved too much, even for her devoted father.
Carly felt bitter at times, angry even, but in some ways her father’s poignant death was a beautiful demonstration of one human being’s love and devotion for another. The mere thought of her dad breathing his last while comforting his only true love often made her emotions bubble over into tears. His exit from this world was almost poetic. He couldn’t have done any more to comfort and keep her alive, and when the stress finally proved too much, his already weak heart gave out.
Despite the overwhelming sadness Carly experienced whenever she remembered, it seemed somehow fitting and dignified that her father died right there beside her mother.As an only child, she’d had to make the funeral arrangements herself. Her mother had no siblings, and her father’s three older brothers were too infirm to offer anything other than moral support. The whole episode, including choosing the casket, flowers, hymns, and everything else that went with a burial had proved extremely traumatic for her—just as it would for anyone. However, with her father now laid to rest, she hoped the worse was over, and she felt proud of herself for not buckling under the immense strain.
Her mother still lay in a vegetative state in Montana’s finest medical facility, Big Horn County Hospital, located some seventy-five miles away. Carly hoped that she remained blissfully unaware of the tragic events that had unfolded all around her.
Since her father’s untimely death, the hospital hierarchy had mentioned with the best of intentions that the option existed for turning off her mother’s life-support machine. They’d explained the situation with as much compassion as was possible for people who didn’t know her mother personally, people who didn’t understand how much Jane Wilson was loved, was still loved. They’d mentioned the exact same option to her father two weeks before his death. He’d vehemently resisted, believing his beloved wife could make a miraculous recovery if that was what the good Lord wanted. Well, in memory of her dad she’d resist, too, for now. Although, the costs of keeping her mother alive were growing with each and every passing day, and the responsibility of paying the hospitals bills now lay solely with her.
Frustration boiled up inside her again, needing its escape. Goddamn her mother’s medical insurance policy. It came with so many clauses and exclusions that she could drive a speeding Greyhound bus straight through the center of it.
Carly raised the axe high above her head before angrily taking out her frustration on a particularly sizeable log, splitting the bastard clean in two, sending the pieces flying in opposite directions at high speed. She hated small print. It should be banned, because its sole purpose was to mislead the elderly and those with poor eyesight.
She looked back at the ranch house with affection. Whitewashed and gleaming in the midday sun, the timber-constructed property with a full wraparound porch and softly pitched roof was typical of the area. It was the very same house she’d lived in as a child. Carly fondly remembered spending endless summer days, sitting on that very stoop, helping her mother shell peas or top and tail the gooseberries they’d just picked together from the garden.
Those were happy times.
But time moved on, and at the tender and still vulnerable age of eighteen, she’d started a three-year course at the University of Illinois, which was scarily located some thirteen hundred miles away from home. She’d loved animals since before she could walk and had always wanted to become a vet when she grew up. She’d succeeded, too.
Since her father’s death, she’d secured power of attorney over the ranch and all her mother’s affairs. She was in sole charge of Bear Creek Ranch now, complete with ten thousand acres, twenty thousand head of beef cattle, and four ranch hands who relied on her for a paycheck at the end of each month. Just like the President, the buck stopped with her.
It was strange, but she’d moved full circle, returning to her roots to start a new life. There were many challenges ahead, which frightened her, but her ma and pa hadn’t raised their only daughter to be a quitter.
She raised the axe above her head again, and even though it was a chilly February day, she felt sweat trickle down her back, robbing her of any femininity. Right now there was no time for beautification and girly things like pretty shoes and dresses. Such frivolous luxuries would have to put on hold. Bringing the chopper down on yet another piece of lumber that seemed reluctant to split, she sighed loudly. Heavy boots and dungarees were far more suitable for running a ranch on the desolate prairie land of Montana.
Carly threw down the axe, then stretched her arms high above her head, groaning out loud as she arched her aching back. This was no work for a woman, but it had to be done. With almost ten thousand acres of land, her ranch hands had more important things to spend their time on. As she wiped the sweat from her brow, she spied a lone horseman on the horizon, and believing it to be Jed, her ranch foreman, waved at him. When he didn’t respond in his usual friendly manner by giving a cheery wave back, she shielded her eyes from the midday sun and looked again. On closer inspection, it wasn’t Jed. Whoever this guy was, he cut a far more imposing figure as he sat astride his jet-black stallion. What was more, he had a dog running alongside him, too.
Who the hell was he?
Before everything had gone pear-shaped, her parents had told her that a reclusive guy by the name of Brett had taken over the old Peterson ranch next door. That would be some three years ago now, but other than that, she knew nothing about the man. Maybe it was him. As he drew closer, she recognized the dog with the tall mysterious stranger, if not the man himself. The old hound had been a regular visitor to Bear Creek Ranch over the last few weeks, and being a pushover for anything with fur and four legs, she’d indulged the friendly pooch with plenty of tasty tidbits.
The dog didn’t wear a collar, so she didn’t know his name, but he’d often visit late in the evening before disappearing as mysteriously as he’d arrived.
Carly waited expectantly, hands on hips, until the stranger and his dog finally reached her. Snorting from its exertions, the magnificent stallion was obviously a thoroughbred and therefore highly strung. Clearly impatient and chomping at its bit, the horse pawed the ground with a hoof.
With none of her ranch hands in sight, and being a woman on her own, she decided her best option would be to employ a cautious approach to the arrival of the unknown horseman.
Carly smiled. “Hi, there.” She then patted her thighs and hunkered down. “And hi there to you, too, sweetie.” The old dog immediately trotted over to her, then obligingly offered her his paw as if to say hello again. When she lifted her head and looked at the handsome stranger sitting silently on the magnificent black horse, she saw his face was set in stone.
He obviously wasn’t amused. “Careful there, lady, he’s a one-man dog. He can be unpredictable at times.”
“Nonsense.” To prove her point the old dog obligingly rolled on his back, allowing her to tickle his belly. “You’re an old softie, aren’t you? What’s his name?”
“Biff.”
“Biff, huh? Suits him. Well, Biff here visits almost every night. He must know I’m a soft touch.” She tickled the old dog’s belly some more before raising her gaze to look at the mysterious stranger again, whose expression was still inscrutable. Aged around thirty-five, he was tall and muscular, with rugged features that appealed to her. As he stared coldly at her, Carly realized he also did a good line in intimidation, having the power to make her feel uneasy on her own land.
The guy looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. With the silence between them becoming oppressive, she tried to engage him in conversation again.
“Are you Brett, the guy who’s taken over the old Peterson ranch?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
The stranger obviously wasn’t big on small talk. Instead, his piercing blue eyes stared mercilessly at her as though inspecting something subhuman. His demeanor was cold and unfeeling, and she couldn’t stop herself from shivering.
Carly couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew this man from somewhere, that they’d met before—but where?
As he dismounted his horse, she saw he was even taller than she’d first imagined. He was easily six two, probably more, and when he casually removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow, collar-length hair the color of corn streaked by the sun feathered in the gentle breeze.
Her first meeting with the new neighbor wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped, so she stood from fussing the dog and held out her hand.
Still feeling slightly vulnerable, she coughed nervously. “I’m Carly Wilson. Welcome to Bear Creek Ranch.”
“I’ve been here before.” Without the glimmer of a smile reaching his lips, he shook her outstretched hand. “Brett Sinclair.”
The moment he mentioned his full name, delivered in that deep baritone voice, the penny finally dropped. Brett Sinclair? Was the uncommunicative stranger the same Brett Sinclair from her childhood? The one she’d had a crush on at Twin Rivers High, along with every other girl on the campus.
No. It couldn’t be. The Brett Sinclair she remembered was never without a smile on his face. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, a crowd of people would always gather around him. All the boys wanted to be him, and all the girls wanted to be his girlfriend. That Brett Sinclair was the complete package. Achingly good-looking, fun, kind, and with enough sex appeal to make any girl go weak at the knees, including her.
He was also extremely intelligent—a straight A student—and captain of the football team, too. He had everything going for him, and because of his positive demeanor, people of both sexes naturally gravitated toward him. The word charisma could have been invented for him.
Carly looked into the stranger’s eyes again. It is him. I’m sure of it. If it is the same guy, what the hell happened to make him so unhappy in the intervening fifteen years?
The light that had once shone so brightly in his mesmerizing blue eyes was now extinguished and dormant.
“I think we’ve met before, Brett.”
Still without the faintest glimmer of a smile reaching his lips or eyes, he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“You were a pupil at Twin Rivers High, too, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. So what?”
“Well, so was I, although I was a couple of years below you.”
Those piercing blue irises narrowed on her again, looking her up and down, dismissively taking in her dirty dungarees and work boots. “Can’t say you look familiar.”
Feeling inadequate and unfeminine, she defensively countered, “Probably not. I doubt you even noticed me. I wasn’t one of the cheerleaders way back then. Quite the opposite in fact.”
That was an understatement. During high school she had few friends, and the ones she did have didn’t seem to have any other friends beside her. Looking back she was part of a small group of geeks who were spurned and ridiculed by the beautiful blonde bimbos who were part of the happening scene. Nothing much happened in her life back then. She didn’t even date until she was nineteen.
In school, Brett Sinclair would often push past, oblivious to her presence, a huge smile to his face. He’d be surrounded by laughing, joking friends of both sexes. As a teenager, Carly had worshipped the very ground he walked on, fantasizing about him in bed at night, allowing her fingers to trail over her breasts and between her legs as she thought about them making wild passionate love together. Being just an impressionable kid, she’d had this dream that one day he’d spot her in the crowd. In her adolescent mind, Brett would wave aside all the other girls who were so desperate for his attention and run to her, taking her in his arms, telling her how much he loved her. Of course, she was just a girl way back then, but even now at the age of thirty-three, when the fantasy resurfaced from time to time, it still made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
However, while all this was going on, Brett Sinclair was totally oblivious to her to the point that he didn’t even know she existed, didn’t even know her name.
Fast-forward some fifteen years, and that part of the scenario remained the same.
The Wicked Ranchers' Indecent Proposal can be purchased from the following distributors:
Bookstrand HERE
Also Amazon HERE
And Amazon UK HERE
The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal is available from Bookstrand HEREAlso Amazon HEREAnd Amazon UK HERE
THE WICKED RANCHER’S INDECENT PROPOSALCarnal Sins 2JAN BOWLESCopyright © 2014
Prologue
“Goddamn it, Biff. Quit your hollering. You know it’s me.”
The old hound’s incessant barking cut right through Brett Sinclair as he fumbled to get his key in the lock after drinking far too much yet again. It didn’t help that Biff was now fourteen years old and almost totally deaf, meaning that he was easily spooked. Back in the day, every other dog in the neighborhood had feared his faithful companion, but now, in the twilight of his life, Biff’s bark was definitely worse than his bite.
Feeling the worse for wear, Brett finally pushed open the sturdy oak door to the ranch house to be greeted by his best friend. Despite the advancing years, Biff still found enough energy to jump up at him, his ragged tongue basting his neck with an enthusiasm that demonstrated how pleased he was to see his master again.
“Yeah, yeah, I love you, too, buddy. Now calm down, and let me inside.”After slamming the heavy door behind him, Brett staggered to an easy chair by the fireplace before landing heavily on the soft, welcoming cushions. Now he was home again, Biff seemed to simmer down, sitting contentedly at his booted feet before giving a mighty yawn, immediately followed by a whining sigh.
Brett waved a hand in front of his face. “Jesus, buddy, we’re gonna have to do something about that bad breath of yours. It’s starting to peel the paint off the walls. Remind me to put some dental chews on the grocery list for when I next go into town.”
The elderly mongrel of dubious parentage cocked his head to one side, then lifted his left ear, as if he knew exactly what Brett was saying. The old dog then gave another mournful sigh before stretching out and laying his head between his front paws.
“I know exactly how you feel, buddy. Life’s a bitch then you die. I guess you miss your mistress as much as I do.” Still talking to the dog as though he were a human being, Brett continued, “I can’t believe it’s five years to the day since Simone was killed in that fucking car crash, and with my unborn child inside her, too.”
Time and events had hardened him, turning him into a selfish bastard of a man, but even so, Brett still felt the need to wipe the moisture from the corners of his eyes. “Fuck it all. Fuck the world and everything in it.”
He shook his head. “I need another drink.” But he was too tired and wasted to get out of the chair. “Life sucks, buddy. Answer me this, Biff. How the hell does a guy go from being a top Wall Street stockbroker to being someone who doesn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone? How does that happen? Answer me that if you can.”
Biff lifted his head from between his paws to look adoringly at his master. His gray muzzle was clearly visible as the light from the open fire flickered in those nonjudgmental brown eyes.
“You can’t kid me, pal. You don’t have any more answers than I do.”
As if agreeing, Biff let out another mighty yawn, then plonked his head between his paws again and closed his eyes.
The old saying was true—life turns on a dime. The first thirty years of his time on this earth couldn’t have run more smoothly. He’d been happy, healthy, and wealthy, and when Simone did him the honor of becoming his wife, things became perfect. Up until that point, everything had slotted effortlessly into place. That was until a cop by the name of John Cooper had arrived unexpectedly at their penthouse apartment in New York. The guy had that look on his face, the sort that immediately set off warning bells deep in the recesses of his mind.
Detective Cooper had solemnly told him that they believed the heavily pregnant twenty-nine-year-old woman found dead in the mangled Porsche was his beautiful wife Simone. Brett had felt his world begin to crumble when the overweight cop then matter-of-factly said, “I know this must be difficult for you right now, Mr. Sinclair, but we need you to make a formal identification of the body, just to be sure.”
Since that day, his life had started to unravel big-time. Despondency and disillusionment now took the place of the happiness and contentment that had once come so easily to him when Simone was still alive.
He leaned down and stroked his hand along the back of the old hound, enjoying the feel of his rough, coarse coat. Biff was certainly no pampered pooch, but he loved him all the same.
“You’re just a dog, so you don’t know what a debt of gratitude you owe your mistress. She was the kind lady who found you abandoned in a cardboard box when you were a pup so young your eyes were still closed. It was February, and a freezing cold New York day. If she hadn’t changed her route on her way to work and walked past that piece of wasteland, you’d be history right now, pal. She tucked you inside her coat and saved your life. Simone was barely twenty at the time, and still living with her parents. Later on, when we met and decided to go out together for the first time, she told me in no uncertain terms that you came as part of the package. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then, buddy, and I wouldn’t be without you now. You’re a link to the woman I loved. Still love.”
Biff sighed contentedly beneath his touch, snuffling a little.
“Yeah, let’s get some rest.” Brett settled back in the easy chair situated next to the crackling open fire. “Tomorrow’s another day.”
When he closed his eyes, he could still see Simone smiling, just like she’d always done. Just like he’d once done.
Brett Sinclair didn’t smile any more.
What was the point?
Chapter One
As Carly Wilson energetically chopped wood in the yard, she felt her anger with the world steadily growing. Life wasn’t fair. In fact, it sucked. A month ago today, her wonderful father, Jack Wilson, had died at her mother’s bedside. The nursing staff had found his frail, lifeless body, clinging to the woman he loved so dearly. Maybe there was a God after all because her equally wonderful mother, Jane Wilson, was completely unaware that her life partner for the past thirty-five years had gone. Aged just sixty-three, she’d suffered a severe stroke some six months before, and during that time had sadly shown absolutely no signs of awareness.
It was the stress that had killed him. He loved her mother so much that he couldn’t bear to see her in such a comatose, vegetative state, with little or no hope of recovery. Carly figured that at the age of seventy-two, the daily round trip of a hundred and fifty miles to see the woman he adored had finally proved too much, even for her devoted father.
Carly felt bitter at times, angry even, but in some ways her father’s poignant death was a beautiful demonstration of one human being’s love and devotion for another. The mere thought of her dad breathing his last while comforting his only true love often made her emotions bubble over into tears. His exit from this world was almost poetic. He couldn’t have done any more to comfort and keep her alive, and when the stress finally proved too much, his already weak heart gave out.
Despite the overwhelming sadness Carly experienced whenever she remembered, it seemed somehow fitting and dignified that her father died right there beside her mother.As an only child, she’d had to make the funeral arrangements herself. Her mother had no siblings, and her father’s three older brothers were too infirm to offer anything other than moral support. The whole episode, including choosing the casket, flowers, hymns, and everything else that went with a burial had proved extremely traumatic for her—just as it would for anyone. However, with her father now laid to rest, she hoped the worse was over, and she felt proud of herself for not buckling under the immense strain.
Her mother still lay in a vegetative state in Montana’s finest medical facility, Big Horn County Hospital, located some seventy-five miles away. Carly hoped that she remained blissfully unaware of the tragic events that had unfolded all around her.
Since her father’s untimely death, the hospital hierarchy had mentioned with the best of intentions that the option existed for turning off her mother’s life-support machine. They’d explained the situation with as much compassion as was possible for people who didn’t know her mother personally, people who didn’t understand how much Jane Wilson was loved, was still loved. They’d mentioned the exact same option to her father two weeks before his death. He’d vehemently resisted, believing his beloved wife could make a miraculous recovery if that was what the good Lord wanted. Well, in memory of her dad she’d resist, too, for now. Although, the costs of keeping her mother alive were growing with each and every passing day, and the responsibility of paying the hospitals bills now lay solely with her.
Frustration boiled up inside her again, needing its escape. Goddamn her mother’s medical insurance policy. It came with so many clauses and exclusions that she could drive a speeding Greyhound bus straight through the center of it.
Carly raised the axe high above her head before angrily taking out her frustration on a particularly sizeable log, splitting the bastard clean in two, sending the pieces flying in opposite directions at high speed. She hated small print. It should be banned, because its sole purpose was to mislead the elderly and those with poor eyesight.
She looked back at the ranch house with affection. Whitewashed and gleaming in the midday sun, the timber-constructed property with a full wraparound porch and softly pitched roof was typical of the area. It was the very same house she’d lived in as a child. Carly fondly remembered spending endless summer days, sitting on that very stoop, helping her mother shell peas or top and tail the gooseberries they’d just picked together from the garden.
Those were happy times.
But time moved on, and at the tender and still vulnerable age of eighteen, she’d started a three-year course at the University of Illinois, which was scarily located some thirteen hundred miles away from home. She’d loved animals since before she could walk and had always wanted to become a vet when she grew up. She’d succeeded, too.
Since her father’s death, she’d secured power of attorney over the ranch and all her mother’s affairs. She was in sole charge of Bear Creek Ranch now, complete with ten thousand acres, twenty thousand head of beef cattle, and four ranch hands who relied on her for a paycheck at the end of each month. Just like the President, the buck stopped with her.
It was strange, but she’d moved full circle, returning to her roots to start a new life. There were many challenges ahead, which frightened her, but her ma and pa hadn’t raised their only daughter to be a quitter.
She raised the axe above her head again, and even though it was a chilly February day, she felt sweat trickle down her back, robbing her of any femininity. Right now there was no time for beautification and girly things like pretty shoes and dresses. Such frivolous luxuries would have to put on hold. Bringing the chopper down on yet another piece of lumber that seemed reluctant to split, she sighed loudly. Heavy boots and dungarees were far more suitable for running a ranch on the desolate prairie land of Montana.
Carly threw down the axe, then stretched her arms high above her head, groaning out loud as she arched her aching back. This was no work for a woman, but it had to be done. With almost ten thousand acres of land, her ranch hands had more important things to spend their time on. As she wiped the sweat from her brow, she spied a lone horseman on the horizon, and believing it to be Jed, her ranch foreman, waved at him. When he didn’t respond in his usual friendly manner by giving a cheery wave back, she shielded her eyes from the midday sun and looked again. On closer inspection, it wasn’t Jed. Whoever this guy was, he cut a far more imposing figure as he sat astride his jet-black stallion. What was more, he had a dog running alongside him, too.
Who the hell was he?
Before everything had gone pear-shaped, her parents had told her that a reclusive guy by the name of Brett had taken over the old Peterson ranch next door. That would be some three years ago now, but other than that, she knew nothing about the man. Maybe it was him. As he drew closer, she recognized the dog with the tall mysterious stranger, if not the man himself. The old hound had been a regular visitor to Bear Creek Ranch over the last few weeks, and being a pushover for anything with fur and four legs, she’d indulged the friendly pooch with plenty of tasty tidbits.
The dog didn’t wear a collar, so she didn’t know his name, but he’d often visit late in the evening before disappearing as mysteriously as he’d arrived.
Carly waited expectantly, hands on hips, until the stranger and his dog finally reached her. Snorting from its exertions, the magnificent stallion was obviously a thoroughbred and therefore highly strung. Clearly impatient and chomping at its bit, the horse pawed the ground with a hoof.
With none of her ranch hands in sight, and being a woman on her own, she decided her best option would be to employ a cautious approach to the arrival of the unknown horseman.
Carly smiled. “Hi, there.” She then patted her thighs and hunkered down. “And hi there to you, too, sweetie.” The old dog immediately trotted over to her, then obligingly offered her his paw as if to say hello again. When she lifted her head and looked at the handsome stranger sitting silently on the magnificent black horse, she saw his face was set in stone.
He obviously wasn’t amused. “Careful there, lady, he’s a one-man dog. He can be unpredictable at times.”
“Nonsense.” To prove her point the old dog obligingly rolled on his back, allowing her to tickle his belly. “You’re an old softie, aren’t you? What’s his name?”
“Biff.”
“Biff, huh? Suits him. Well, Biff here visits almost every night. He must know I’m a soft touch.” She tickled the old dog’s belly some more before raising her gaze to look at the mysterious stranger again, whose expression was still inscrutable. Aged around thirty-five, he was tall and muscular, with rugged features that appealed to her. As he stared coldly at her, Carly realized he also did a good line in intimidation, having the power to make her feel uneasy on her own land.
The guy looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. With the silence between them becoming oppressive, she tried to engage him in conversation again.
“Are you Brett, the guy who’s taken over the old Peterson ranch?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
The stranger obviously wasn’t big on small talk. Instead, his piercing blue eyes stared mercilessly at her as though inspecting something subhuman. His demeanor was cold and unfeeling, and she couldn’t stop herself from shivering.
Carly couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew this man from somewhere, that they’d met before—but where?
As he dismounted his horse, she saw he was even taller than she’d first imagined. He was easily six two, probably more, and when he casually removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow, collar-length hair the color of corn streaked by the sun feathered in the gentle breeze.
Her first meeting with the new neighbor wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped, so she stood from fussing the dog and held out her hand.
Still feeling slightly vulnerable, she coughed nervously. “I’m Carly Wilson. Welcome to Bear Creek Ranch.”
“I’ve been here before.” Without the glimmer of a smile reaching his lips, he shook her outstretched hand. “Brett Sinclair.”
The moment he mentioned his full name, delivered in that deep baritone voice, the penny finally dropped. Brett Sinclair? Was the uncommunicative stranger the same Brett Sinclair from her childhood? The one she’d had a crush on at Twin Rivers High, along with every other girl on the campus.
No. It couldn’t be. The Brett Sinclair she remembered was never without a smile on his face. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, a crowd of people would always gather around him. All the boys wanted to be him, and all the girls wanted to be his girlfriend. That Brett Sinclair was the complete package. Achingly good-looking, fun, kind, and with enough sex appeal to make any girl go weak at the knees, including her.
He was also extremely intelligent—a straight A student—and captain of the football team, too. He had everything going for him, and because of his positive demeanor, people of both sexes naturally gravitated toward him. The word charisma could have been invented for him.
Carly looked into the stranger’s eyes again. It is him. I’m sure of it. If it is the same guy, what the hell happened to make him so unhappy in the intervening fifteen years?
The light that had once shone so brightly in his mesmerizing blue eyes was now extinguished and dormant.
“I think we’ve met before, Brett.”
Still without the faintest glimmer of a smile reaching his lips or eyes, he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“You were a pupil at Twin Rivers High, too, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. So what?”
“Well, so was I, although I was a couple of years below you.”
Those piercing blue irises narrowed on her again, looking her up and down, dismissively taking in her dirty dungarees and work boots. “Can’t say you look familiar.”
Feeling inadequate and unfeminine, she defensively countered, “Probably not. I doubt you even noticed me. I wasn’t one of the cheerleaders way back then. Quite the opposite in fact.”
That was an understatement. During high school she had few friends, and the ones she did have didn’t seem to have any other friends beside her. Looking back she was part of a small group of geeks who were spurned and ridiculed by the beautiful blonde bimbos who were part of the happening scene. Nothing much happened in her life back then. She didn’t even date until she was nineteen.
In school, Brett Sinclair would often push past, oblivious to her presence, a huge smile to his face. He’d be surrounded by laughing, joking friends of both sexes. As a teenager, Carly had worshipped the very ground he walked on, fantasizing about him in bed at night, allowing her fingers to trail over her breasts and between her legs as she thought about them making wild passionate love together. Being just an impressionable kid, she’d had this dream that one day he’d spot her in the crowd. In her adolescent mind, Brett would wave aside all the other girls who were so desperate for his attention and run to her, taking her in his arms, telling her how much he loved her. Of course, she was just a girl way back then, but even now at the age of thirty-three, when the fantasy resurfaced from time to time, it still made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
However, while all this was going on, Brett Sinclair was totally oblivious to her to the point that he didn’t even know she existed, didn’t even know her name.
Fast-forward some fifteen years, and that part of the scenario remained the same.
The Wicked Ranchers' Indecent Proposal can be purchased from the following distributors:
Bookstrand HERE
Also Amazon HERE
And Amazon UK HERE
January 10, 2014
It’s Release Day for The Wicked Rancher’s Indecent Proposal
Hi, everyone It’s release day! The Wicked Rancher’s Indecent Proposal is now available from Bookstrand HEREREADER WARNING: Expect a Wicked hero, a smelly, old hound called Biff, and a feisty heroine out to save her man. An emotional story of one man’s triumph over sadness and despair, with a healthy twist of erotic romance. [Siren LoveEdge: Erotic Cowboy Romance, sex toys, HEA] When thirty-three-year-old Carly Wilson returns to Montana to bury her father, she takes over the running of her parents’ ranch, little knowing that her father borrowed a significant sum of cash from the rancher next door. She is even more surprised to discover that the man who loaned her father the money is none other than Brett Sinclair, the very guy she had a crush on in high school. At thirty-five, Brett has changed beyond all recognition, and is no longer the fun-loving individual he used to be. Cold, ruthless, and unemotional, he shows absolutely no sympathy when Carly explains that she can’t possibly pay him back. With the loan secured on the farmstead, Brett demands sexual favors as payment in kind, or he will start legal proceedings to take the ranch from her. Carly soon realizes there must...
It's Release Day for The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal
Hi, everyone
It's release day! The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal is now available from Bookstrand HERE
READER WARNING: Expect a Wicked hero, a smelly, old hound called Biff, and a feisty heroine out to save her man. An emotional story of one man's triumph over sadness and despair, with a healthy twist of erotic romance.
[Siren LoveEdge: Erotic Cowboy Romance, sex toys, HEA]When thirty-three-year-old Carly Wilson returns to Montana to bury her father, she takes over the running of her parents’ ranch, little knowing that her father borrowed a significant sum of cash from the rancher next door. She is even more surprised to discover that the man who loaned her father the money is none other than Brett Sinclair, the very guy she had a crush on in high school.At thirty-five, Brett has changed beyond all recognition, and is no longer the fun-loving individual he used to be. Cold, ruthless, and unemotional, he shows absolutely no sympathy when Carly explains that she can’t possibly pay him back. With the loan secured on the farmstead, Brett demands sexual favors as payment in kind, or he will start legal proceedings to take the ranch from her. Carly soon realizes there must be a reason for Brett’s heartless behavior, but before she can help him, will she be forced to accept his indecent proposal?
A Siren Erotic Romance
It's release day! The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal is now available from Bookstrand HERE
READER WARNING: Expect a Wicked hero, a smelly, old hound called Biff, and a feisty heroine out to save her man. An emotional story of one man's triumph over sadness and despair, with a healthy twist of erotic romance.
[Siren LoveEdge: Erotic Cowboy Romance, sex toys, HEA]When thirty-three-year-old Carly Wilson returns to Montana to bury her father, she takes over the running of her parents’ ranch, little knowing that her father borrowed a significant sum of cash from the rancher next door. She is even more surprised to discover that the man who loaned her father the money is none other than Brett Sinclair, the very guy she had a crush on in high school.At thirty-five, Brett has changed beyond all recognition, and is no longer the fun-loving individual he used to be. Cold, ruthless, and unemotional, he shows absolutely no sympathy when Carly explains that she can’t possibly pay him back. With the loan secured on the farmstead, Brett demands sexual favors as payment in kind, or he will start legal proceedings to take the ranch from her. Carly soon realizes there must be a reason for Brett’s heartless behavior, but before she can help him, will she be forced to accept his indecent proposal?A Siren Erotic Romance
December 31, 2013
Now on Pre-Order ~ The Wicked Rancher’s Indecent Proposal
Hi, everyone The 2nd story in my brand new series Carnal Sins has just gone on pre-order HERE [Siren LoveEdge: Erotic Cowboy Romance, sex toys, HEA] When thirty-three-year-old Carly Wilson returns to Montana to bury her father, she takes over the running of her parents’ ranch, little knowing that her father borrowed a significant sum of cash from the rancher next door. She is even more surprised to discover that the man who loaned her father the money is none other than Brett Sinclair, the very guy she had a crush on in high school. At thirty-five, Brett has changed beyond all recognition, and is no longer the fun-loving individual he used to be. Cold, ruthless, and unemotional, he shows absolutely no sympathy when Carly explains that she can’t possibly pay him back. With the loan secured on the farmstead, Brett demands sexual favors as payment in kind, or he will start legal proceedings to take the ranch from her. Carly soon realizes there must be a reason for Brett’s heartless behavior, but before she can help him, will she be forced to accept his indecent proposal? A Siren Erotic Romance
Now on Pre-Order ~ The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal
Hi, everyone
The 2nd story in my brand new series Carnal Sins has just gone on pre-order HERE
[Siren LoveEdge: Erotic Cowboy Romance, sex toys, HEA]When thirty-three-year-old Carly Wilson returns to Montana to bury her father, she takes over the running of her parents’ ranch, little knowing that her father borrowed a significant sum of cash from the rancher next door. She is even more surprised to discover that the man who loaned her father the money is none other than Brett Sinclair, the very guy she had a crush on in high school.At thirty-five, Brett has changed beyond all recognition, and is no longer the fun-loving individual he used to be. Cold, ruthless, and unemotional, he shows absolutely no sympathy when Carly explains that she can’t possibly pay him back. With the loan secured on the farmstead, Brett demands sexual favors as payment in kind, or he will start legal proceedings to take the ranch from her. Carly soon realizes there must be a reason for Brett’s heartless behavior, but before she can help him, will she be forced to accept his indecent proposal?A Siren Erotic Romance
The 2nd story in my brand new series Carnal Sins has just gone on pre-order HERE
[Siren LoveEdge: Erotic Cowboy Romance, sex toys, HEA]When thirty-three-year-old Carly Wilson returns to Montana to bury her father, she takes over the running of her parents’ ranch, little knowing that her father borrowed a significant sum of cash from the rancher next door. She is even more surprised to discover that the man who loaned her father the money is none other than Brett Sinclair, the very guy she had a crush on in high school.At thirty-five, Brett has changed beyond all recognition, and is no longer the fun-loving individual he used to be. Cold, ruthless, and unemotional, he shows absolutely no sympathy when Carly explains that she can’t possibly pay him back. With the loan secured on the farmstead, Brett demands sexual favors as payment in kind, or he will start legal proceedings to take the ranch from her. Carly soon realizes there must be a reason for Brett’s heartless behavior, but before she can help him, will she be forced to accept his indecent proposal?A Siren Erotic Romance
December 19, 2013
Coming Soon to Siren-Bookstrand ~ The Wicked Rancher’s Indecent Proposal
Hi, everyone, I thought I’d introduce the 2nd book in the Carnal Sins series ~ The Wicked Rancher’s Indecent Proposal Click on the image for a larger view Coming to Siren-Bookstrand January 2014
Coming Soon to Siren-Bookstrand ~ The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal
Hi, everyone, I thought I'd introduce the 2nd book in the Carnal Sins series ~
The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal
Click on the image for a larger view
Coming to Siren-Bookstrand January 2014
The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal
Click on the image for a larger view
Coming to Siren-Bookstrand January 2014
December 17, 2013
Slide Show for Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed
I thought I would place all the promotional images from Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed into this post. If you click on the first image, the others should then follow as a slide show, giving you a condensed version of what the book is all about.
Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed is available from Bookstrand HERE
Meet Mac Buchanan
Meet Kendall Van Heusen
Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed is available from Bookstrand HERE
Meet Mac Buchanan
Meet Kendall Van Heusen
Read the 1st Chapter of Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed Free
Here is the 1st Chapter of Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed in its entirety. I hope you enjoy it.
Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed is available from Bookstrand HERE
BLACKMAILED INTO THE BILLIONAIRE’S BEDCarnal Sins 1
JAN BOWLESCopyright © 2013
Chapter One
Kendall Van Heusen relaxed as best she could in a comfortable chair as she studied her new environment. The opulent boardroom located on the forty-first floor of the Metropolis Building gave wonderful panoramic views of uptown Manhattan. Although she was tempted to walk across to the impressive bank of floor to ceiling windows and admire the city that never sleeps, professionalism dictated that she remain in her seat.
Feeling the pressure mounting, she shuffled and adjusted her position several times, releasing a nervous cough as she did so. After taking a sip of coffee and then placing her cup back on its saucer, she then crossed and uncrossed her ankles in an attempt to make herself more comfortable.
Surely he had to make an entrance soon? Even God himself didn’t keep people waiting this long.
She figured she wasn’t alone with her thoughts, because three other employees of Buchanan Enterprises sat at the impressive mahogany boardroom table, too. All men, their body language looked as apprehensive as she felt. Anticipation was a killer, and she hoped her first face-to-face meeting with the legendary newspaper magnate Mac Buchanan would pan out okay.
Her new boss had a reputation that preceded him—a fearsome one at that. She’d endeavor not to get on the wrong side of him, because from what she’d heard, Mac Buchanan did as much firing as hiring.
Kendall faintly recognized two of the three men sitting at the table with her. Unaware of even their names, she was barely on nodding terms with either of them. The guy on her left was a complete mystery to her, but she figured she’d learn more as soon as Mr. Buchanan arrived. Whatever position they held within the company, all were immaculately turned out, their smart business suits perfectly pressed, their shoes polished to a mirror shine.
“Goddamn it.” A well-built guy in his forties, sitting on her right finally broke the deafening silence. “The bastard just loves to keep us all waiting. Makes him feel important to have us all on tenterhooks. I feel like I’ve fucked up and done something wrong at high school, and I’m waiting outside the principal’s office.”
Another employee sitting directly opposite her forced out an exasperated breath. “Tell me about it, Mark.”
“Fuck it, Dave, I just know Mac’s gonna bust my balls over the circulation figures.”
“Stand your ground, Mark. He’s got no idea what it’s like at the sharp end anymore.”
“Too fucking true he doesn’t.”
Her impression of the guys sitting at the table with her wasn’t wholly favorable. She didn’t need a brain like Einstein to know they didn’t like their boss, but despite that, she figured they respected him and were more than a little frightened of him, too. She checked her watch again. She’d see how their demeanor changed when the autocratic head of the company finally entered the boardroom.
On reflection, perhaps she should take this opportunity to engage them in conversation. She cleared her throat. “Gentlemen, good morning. I don’t believe we’ve met before, but my name is—”
Without warning, the solid oak boardroom door suddenly swung open, and she heard a communal intake of breath from all three men. With the immediacy of it all, she couldn’t stop herself from stiffening in anticipation, too. Kendall’s flight-or-fight response only returned to normal when a petite blonde-haired woman in her early thirties entered.
“Hi, guys, Mr. Buchanan is running a few minutes late. He’ll be here as soon as he can.”
The guy called Mark was the first to answer. “That’s fine, Marcy. We all know how busy the boss is. Thanks for keeping us informed, honey.”
Kendall found herself doing a double take. Was this the same mouthy guy who openly vented his dislike of Mac Buchanan just a few moments ago?
“You’re real welcome, Mark.” Mac Buchanan’s secretary then turned on her heels and disappeared from the boardroom as quickly as she’d entered.
Whoever this Mark guy was, he wasn’t finished spewing his vitriol just yet, and he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “I wouldn’t trust that fucking bitch Marcy as far as I could throw her. She’s real close to Mac, and from what I hear, reports back to him on a regular basis.”
The unknown guy, with dark hair, which showed the first signs of gray at the temples, piped up then. “Yeah, I heard that, too. The rumor doing the rounds is that he’s inside his insider every single day of the week, fucking the dumb bitch senseless.”
This crude schoolboy remark caused all three to laugh in unison. However, Kendall didn’t find it remotely funny, and showed her displeasure by coughing loudly.
“Gentlemen, I don’t know you, but I find your smutty innuendo with a lady present offensive. Do you feel it’s acceptable to act in such a way?”
Mark’s demeanor hardened, his laughter changing to a scowl. “You’re working in a man’s world, honey, so I suggest you grow a thicker skin or look for a job elsewhere. Fucking women.” He looked skyward and spread his arms wide. “They want equality, but only on their terms.”
Kendall had to bite her tongue, but even this didn’t stop the distaste and anger coursing through her veins when the other guys nodded their approval, and she realized she was on her own in the dog-eat-dog world she now found herself in.
She’d been raised well. Her father was a high-flying lawyer with a portfolio of important clients, while her mother, who she loved dearly, was the head teacher at a private day school for girls, situated in the affluent uptown area of Morningside Heights. Good manners and respect for others had always been an integral part of her upbringing. However, her parents had always taught her to stand her ground and fight for what she believed to be right, and the way this Mark guy had spoken so dismissively to her made the desire to retaliate overwhelming.
Keeping as calm and controlled as the situation allowed, she pointed an index finger at him, which she was well aware trembled slightly. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again. Who the hell do you think you are?”
Her new nemesis opened his mouth wide in theatrical mock horror before his weasel eyes narrowed on her. “Who the hell do I think I am, lady? I know exactly who I am, and you’ll know, too, just as soon as Buchanan comes through that fucking door.”
Kendall wondered if Mac Buchanan would have the same Neanderthal attitude to women that these three men had demonstrated. She wouldn’t pass judgment on him right now because she’d yet to meet the guy, but she didn’t hold out too much hope either, because from what she already knew about him, her new boss seemed to bear all the hallmarks of an old-fashioned chauvinist. A man’s man who believed that a woman’s place was in the home, preferably the kitchen or bedroom. Maybe if he’d personally done the hiring of his new financial controller, he’d have picked a guy, but on this occasion he’d delegated the responsibility to one of his minions—a delightful woman by the name of Louise Brody. This lady had given her an opportunity that few twenty-seven-years-olds could even dream of having.
Anyway, not wishing to sink further down the evolutionary scale to their level, Kendall folded her arms defensively across her chest, desperately willing the boardroom door to swing open again. She only had time to take two or three labored breaths before her prayers were finally answered, and this time it wasn’t the ever-smiling Marcy who entered the room.
Almost bizarrely, she found herself sucking a huge gulp of air deep into her lungs before holding it. To say that Mac Buchanan cut an impressive figure was an understatement. Sure, she knew what he looked like. He’d been in the papers and on TV more times than she could remember. When Louise Brody had given her the job, she’d even taken the time to Google him in order to obtain a better understanding of his meteoric rise in the world of publishing. However, to see this powerful man in the flesh for the very first time was, well, life altering.
As he strode across the hardwood floor toward his chair at the head of the boardroom table, she figured he stood well over six feet tall. On further analysis, she revised her estimate, guessing he was probably closer to six three or six four. His broad, upright stance was impressive, and she had no doubt this guy worked out on a regular basis.
Aged thirty-eight, he had a beautiful, full head of jet-black hair that was neatly trimmed, but it was his eyes that took her breath away. Solid silver discs that seemed to burn their uncompromising message into anyone he looked at. The sheer charisma the guy radiated was awesome, and it was easy to see why he was photographed so often with a beautiful woman on his arm.
Finally letting go of the breath she’d been holding since he’d first entered the room, she shuffled uneasily on her seat.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” His voice was deep and authoritative, his accent pure East Coast.
“Good morning, Mr. Buchanan,” they replied as one. The last time she’d responded in such a way she’d been in eighth grade. Good morning, class. Good morning, Miss Jones.
When he loosened his tie and removed his jacket before casually hanging it over the back of his chair, she felt her pussy moisten.
Goddamn it, this guy is hot. When he smiled a perfect smile and flashed a casual glance in her direction, she realized he knew it, too.
Damn you, you sexy bastard.
After taking his place at the head of the boardroom table, his presence became even more dominating, and to complete the picture, he pulled his already loosened silk tie through its loop and then hung it over the back of the chair along with his jacket.
Assessing everyone at the boardroom table with a steely gaze that suggested he knew everything about them, both good and bad, he steepled his fingers together and tapped them nonchalantly against his chin. “Right then, down to business.”
Kendall furtively watched the other men in the room tentatively allow their hands to float to their necks before touching their own ties. However, not one of them dared to loosen the knot and remove it like their boss had done. Even weasel-faced Mark now took on a submissive demeanor as though he’d been neutered by the mere presence of Mac Buchanan.
Although the men in the boardroom with her were obviously important people in their own right, her new employer clearly operated on a completely different level. A level that meant he didn’t have to bow to convention. A level of unapproachable authority that meant that he could do as he damned well pleased, whereas lesser men had to follow the rules.
Absolute power seemed to be his to command, and as far as she was concerned, an aphrodisiac if ever there was one. Such was his overwhelming presence, the messages her brain sent to her clit impacted in a way that made it difficult for her to sit still.
Marcy made another entrance into the boardroom, her high heels clattering noisily on the hardwood floor. This time she came armed with more coffee, and Kendall noticed that she personally served a cup to her boss well aware of exactly how much sugar and cream he took. She then placed the tray in the middle of the boardroom table and glibly added, “I’m sure the rest of you would prefer to help yourselves.”
Kendall saw this deliberate ploy as yet another power play by her new boss. Giving him personal service and attention, yet allowing the rest of his underlings, herself included, to compete for what was left.
Marcy then sat down in a spare seat, carefully smoothing her skirt into place before flipping open her electronic notepad and seductively purring, “I’m ready when you are, Mr. Buchanan, sir.”
By the overtly flirtatious tone she used, Kendall guessed the rumors about Marcy and Mac Buchanan were probably true.
Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed is available from Bookstrand HERE
Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed is available from Bookstrand HERE
BLACKMAILED INTO THE BILLIONAIRE’S BEDCarnal Sins 1JAN BOWLESCopyright © 2013
Chapter One
Kendall Van Heusen relaxed as best she could in a comfortable chair as she studied her new environment. The opulent boardroom located on the forty-first floor of the Metropolis Building gave wonderful panoramic views of uptown Manhattan. Although she was tempted to walk across to the impressive bank of floor to ceiling windows and admire the city that never sleeps, professionalism dictated that she remain in her seat.
Feeling the pressure mounting, she shuffled and adjusted her position several times, releasing a nervous cough as she did so. After taking a sip of coffee and then placing her cup back on its saucer, she then crossed and uncrossed her ankles in an attempt to make herself more comfortable.
Surely he had to make an entrance soon? Even God himself didn’t keep people waiting this long.
She figured she wasn’t alone with her thoughts, because three other employees of Buchanan Enterprises sat at the impressive mahogany boardroom table, too. All men, their body language looked as apprehensive as she felt. Anticipation was a killer, and she hoped her first face-to-face meeting with the legendary newspaper magnate Mac Buchanan would pan out okay.
Her new boss had a reputation that preceded him—a fearsome one at that. She’d endeavor not to get on the wrong side of him, because from what she’d heard, Mac Buchanan did as much firing as hiring.
Kendall faintly recognized two of the three men sitting at the table with her. Unaware of even their names, she was barely on nodding terms with either of them. The guy on her left was a complete mystery to her, but she figured she’d learn more as soon as Mr. Buchanan arrived. Whatever position they held within the company, all were immaculately turned out, their smart business suits perfectly pressed, their shoes polished to a mirror shine.
“Goddamn it.” A well-built guy in his forties, sitting on her right finally broke the deafening silence. “The bastard just loves to keep us all waiting. Makes him feel important to have us all on tenterhooks. I feel like I’ve fucked up and done something wrong at high school, and I’m waiting outside the principal’s office.”
Another employee sitting directly opposite her forced out an exasperated breath. “Tell me about it, Mark.”
“Fuck it, Dave, I just know Mac’s gonna bust my balls over the circulation figures.”
“Stand your ground, Mark. He’s got no idea what it’s like at the sharp end anymore.”
“Too fucking true he doesn’t.”
Her impression of the guys sitting at the table with her wasn’t wholly favorable. She didn’t need a brain like Einstein to know they didn’t like their boss, but despite that, she figured they respected him and were more than a little frightened of him, too. She checked her watch again. She’d see how their demeanor changed when the autocratic head of the company finally entered the boardroom.
On reflection, perhaps she should take this opportunity to engage them in conversation. She cleared her throat. “Gentlemen, good morning. I don’t believe we’ve met before, but my name is—”
Without warning, the solid oak boardroom door suddenly swung open, and she heard a communal intake of breath from all three men. With the immediacy of it all, she couldn’t stop herself from stiffening in anticipation, too. Kendall’s flight-or-fight response only returned to normal when a petite blonde-haired woman in her early thirties entered.
“Hi, guys, Mr. Buchanan is running a few minutes late. He’ll be here as soon as he can.”
The guy called Mark was the first to answer. “That’s fine, Marcy. We all know how busy the boss is. Thanks for keeping us informed, honey.”
Kendall found herself doing a double take. Was this the same mouthy guy who openly vented his dislike of Mac Buchanan just a few moments ago?
“You’re real welcome, Mark.” Mac Buchanan’s secretary then turned on her heels and disappeared from the boardroom as quickly as she’d entered.
Whoever this Mark guy was, he wasn’t finished spewing his vitriol just yet, and he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “I wouldn’t trust that fucking bitch Marcy as far as I could throw her. She’s real close to Mac, and from what I hear, reports back to him on a regular basis.”
The unknown guy, with dark hair, which showed the first signs of gray at the temples, piped up then. “Yeah, I heard that, too. The rumor doing the rounds is that he’s inside his insider every single day of the week, fucking the dumb bitch senseless.”
This crude schoolboy remark caused all three to laugh in unison. However, Kendall didn’t find it remotely funny, and showed her displeasure by coughing loudly.
“Gentlemen, I don’t know you, but I find your smutty innuendo with a lady present offensive. Do you feel it’s acceptable to act in such a way?”
Mark’s demeanor hardened, his laughter changing to a scowl. “You’re working in a man’s world, honey, so I suggest you grow a thicker skin or look for a job elsewhere. Fucking women.” He looked skyward and spread his arms wide. “They want equality, but only on their terms.”
Kendall had to bite her tongue, but even this didn’t stop the distaste and anger coursing through her veins when the other guys nodded their approval, and she realized she was on her own in the dog-eat-dog world she now found herself in.
She’d been raised well. Her father was a high-flying lawyer with a portfolio of important clients, while her mother, who she loved dearly, was the head teacher at a private day school for girls, situated in the affluent uptown area of Morningside Heights. Good manners and respect for others had always been an integral part of her upbringing. However, her parents had always taught her to stand her ground and fight for what she believed to be right, and the way this Mark guy had spoken so dismissively to her made the desire to retaliate overwhelming.
Keeping as calm and controlled as the situation allowed, she pointed an index finger at him, which she was well aware trembled slightly. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again. Who the hell do you think you are?”
Her new nemesis opened his mouth wide in theatrical mock horror before his weasel eyes narrowed on her. “Who the hell do I think I am, lady? I know exactly who I am, and you’ll know, too, just as soon as Buchanan comes through that fucking door.”
Kendall wondered if Mac Buchanan would have the same Neanderthal attitude to women that these three men had demonstrated. She wouldn’t pass judgment on him right now because she’d yet to meet the guy, but she didn’t hold out too much hope either, because from what she already knew about him, her new boss seemed to bear all the hallmarks of an old-fashioned chauvinist. A man’s man who believed that a woman’s place was in the home, preferably the kitchen or bedroom. Maybe if he’d personally done the hiring of his new financial controller, he’d have picked a guy, but on this occasion he’d delegated the responsibility to one of his minions—a delightful woman by the name of Louise Brody. This lady had given her an opportunity that few twenty-seven-years-olds could even dream of having.
Anyway, not wishing to sink further down the evolutionary scale to their level, Kendall folded her arms defensively across her chest, desperately willing the boardroom door to swing open again. She only had time to take two or three labored breaths before her prayers were finally answered, and this time it wasn’t the ever-smiling Marcy who entered the room.
Almost bizarrely, she found herself sucking a huge gulp of air deep into her lungs before holding it. To say that Mac Buchanan cut an impressive figure was an understatement. Sure, she knew what he looked like. He’d been in the papers and on TV more times than she could remember. When Louise Brody had given her the job, she’d even taken the time to Google him in order to obtain a better understanding of his meteoric rise in the world of publishing. However, to see this powerful man in the flesh for the very first time was, well, life altering.
As he strode across the hardwood floor toward his chair at the head of the boardroom table, she figured he stood well over six feet tall. On further analysis, she revised her estimate, guessing he was probably closer to six three or six four. His broad, upright stance was impressive, and she had no doubt this guy worked out on a regular basis.
Aged thirty-eight, he had a beautiful, full head of jet-black hair that was neatly trimmed, but it was his eyes that took her breath away. Solid silver discs that seemed to burn their uncompromising message into anyone he looked at. The sheer charisma the guy radiated was awesome, and it was easy to see why he was photographed so often with a beautiful woman on his arm.
Finally letting go of the breath she’d been holding since he’d first entered the room, she shuffled uneasily on her seat.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” His voice was deep and authoritative, his accent pure East Coast.
“Good morning, Mr. Buchanan,” they replied as one. The last time she’d responded in such a way she’d been in eighth grade. Good morning, class. Good morning, Miss Jones.
When he loosened his tie and removed his jacket before casually hanging it over the back of his chair, she felt her pussy moisten.
Goddamn it, this guy is hot. When he smiled a perfect smile and flashed a casual glance in her direction, she realized he knew it, too.
Damn you, you sexy bastard.
After taking his place at the head of the boardroom table, his presence became even more dominating, and to complete the picture, he pulled his already loosened silk tie through its loop and then hung it over the back of the chair along with his jacket.
Assessing everyone at the boardroom table with a steely gaze that suggested he knew everything about them, both good and bad, he steepled his fingers together and tapped them nonchalantly against his chin. “Right then, down to business.”
Kendall furtively watched the other men in the room tentatively allow their hands to float to their necks before touching their own ties. However, not one of them dared to loosen the knot and remove it like their boss had done. Even weasel-faced Mark now took on a submissive demeanor as though he’d been neutered by the mere presence of Mac Buchanan.
Although the men in the boardroom with her were obviously important people in their own right, her new employer clearly operated on a completely different level. A level that meant he didn’t have to bow to convention. A level of unapproachable authority that meant that he could do as he damned well pleased, whereas lesser men had to follow the rules.
Absolute power seemed to be his to command, and as far as she was concerned, an aphrodisiac if ever there was one. Such was his overwhelming presence, the messages her brain sent to her clit impacted in a way that made it difficult for her to sit still.
Marcy made another entrance into the boardroom, her high heels clattering noisily on the hardwood floor. This time she came armed with more coffee, and Kendall noticed that she personally served a cup to her boss well aware of exactly how much sugar and cream he took. She then placed the tray in the middle of the boardroom table and glibly added, “I’m sure the rest of you would prefer to help yourselves.”
Kendall saw this deliberate ploy as yet another power play by her new boss. Giving him personal service and attention, yet allowing the rest of his underlings, herself included, to compete for what was left.
Marcy then sat down in a spare seat, carefully smoothing her skirt into place before flipping open her electronic notepad and seductively purring, “I’m ready when you are, Mr. Buchanan, sir.”
By the overtly flirtatious tone she used, Kendall guessed the rumors about Marcy and Mac Buchanan were probably true.
Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed is available from Bookstrand HERE
December 13, 2013
Cover reveal for The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal
Hi, everyone,
I've just received my cover for
The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal
This is the 2nd book in the Carnal Sins series, and features a wicked cowboy, one smelly, yet adorable mutt, and a sassy heroine out to tame her man.
Coming to Bookstrand January 2014
I've just received my cover for The Wicked Rancher's Indecent Proposal
This is the 2nd book in the Carnal Sins series, and features a wicked cowboy, one smelly, yet adorable mutt, and a sassy heroine out to tame her man.
Coming to Bookstrand January 2014
