Fire & Desire (Hero Series)

HERO SERIES:
FIRE & DESIRE

Yvette Hines writing as
Monique Lamont

This is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as
real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights
reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted
work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically
or in print without written permission by the author.

Hero Series:
Fire and Desire

Copyright ©
2014, Monique Lamont

Cover
Artist: Char Adlesperger

Editor:
Deatri King-Bey

This ebook
is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or
given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading
this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only,
then please return to eStore and purchase your own copy. Thank you for
respecting the hard work of this author.

DEDICATION

To my husband and
daughter, I thank you both for your love and patience. For every time we were
headed somewhere and I said, “I’ll be ready in a minute” and you waited…hours.
I love you both with all my heart.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To my family, thanks for
your support and understanding every time I brought a laptop to family
functions. To my mini fan club La-Tonya, Julinda, Jackie, Pascha, Jeannie and
Germany Ladies. To Andrea, Cheryl, Denise and Jasmine, a critique team who’s
straight forward and honest, as well as friends. You all are the best. Mark and
the other men who reserve our table in a busy Starbucks every Tuesday night
when we write, Cheers!

Lastly, but never least,
Ms. B. Jenkins who told me, “Don’t worry, it will all work out”.  D. K-B., my
editor that taught me so much when this book was first released, for your
confidence and support I thank you.

Prologue

Five years since the “accident” and his life changed. Trevor still
couldn’t release the anger he’d harbored for so many years. Carrying it around
with him became as natural as the air he breathed. Over the years, he learned
that Manning men got everything handed to them on a silver platter, never
struggling for anything. They had the world eating out of their hands because of
a smile that could calm babies and woo women—never appearing to get what they
so often deserved.

The Mannings of the world could ruin the lives of other people
with a smile and an apology. They never knew what it was like to lose something
and never fully get it back.

Trevor’s thoughts rambled on, and sweat rolled into his eyes as he
brutally attacked his punching bag. He did his best to wipe away the image of
Manning from his mind. Just like he had done many times before, he began to
repeat his mantra of five years,
One day, Christopher “Golden Boy” Manning,
you’ll lose something that you hold dear…I’ll see to it personally.

What would you do if you
got caught in the revenge you set for someone else?

One

The sounds of running water woke Tiffany. Her world was spinning,
and she hadn’t even opened her eyes yet. The emptiness of her stomach cramped
with pain, along with the subtle aches in various places on her body. Her mouth
was filmy and dry, as if she had been eating a mixture of cheese and cotton all
night.

She dragged her body to a seated position, placed her head in her
hands and took a few calming breaths before opening her eyes.

Excruciating minutes passed before the topsy-turvy room righted
itself enough for her to look around. Her unfocused gaze traveled the room. A
sinking feeling came over her. Things weren’t quite right. Instead of being at
the townhouse with her friends, she was in bed at a hotel.

Her clothing was scattered in multiple places on the floor,
leading her to believe she had been drunk when she’d undressed.

The warmth of the starched sheets against her skin made her very
aware that her underclothing had met the same fate.

Tiffany leaned back against the headboard with a groan of disgust.
Because she was so focused on trying to figure out how she’d gotten there, she
didn’t hear the shower turn off or the bathroom door open.

“Good morning, sunshine,” came a silky baritone voice.

The voice caused heat to radiate up her spin. Tiffany lifted her
head slowly, not wanting to believe her ears nor allow the dizziness to attack
her again.

While dealing with the shock of her situation, the sight of the
male standing in the bathroom doorway was undeniable. He was at least six-two
with broad shoulders and skin the color of chocolate satin, which looked smooth
and inviting. He stood leaning against the doorframe, his body still glistening
from his shower. The only form of modesty he showed was the towel loosely tied
and riding low on his hips. Tiffany knew he was the guy from the party.

The desire to kiss his chest assailed her. A quick deep breath
helped to clear her mind.

Man, what is coming over me?

Her gaze returned to the sex symbol now lounged against the
bathroom door. He looked different without his mask. Especially to anyone who
didn’t know he had light brown eyes instead of the dark brown contacts he’d
worn during the performance.

Hmm, perfect fit,
his words echoed in her mind. Feeling her nipples tighten at the memory
of the day before, she pulled the sheet to her chin and held it firmly to cover
the evidence of her arousal. “What are you doing here?” she inquired.

He lifted his eyebrow.

Tiffany realized it was a stupid question. Since she didn’t
remember booking a room, most likely she was the outsider.

“Let me rephrase that…Why am
I
here?”

“Where else would you be?”

Tiffany always hated when people answered a question with a
question. Being hung over didn’t make it any more likable. “I was supposed to
be with my friends in Las Vegas.”

“Well, one out of two isn’t bad,” he said in a voice that brought
back vague memories of the previous evening, causing her pulse to accelerate.

“I’m probably going to regret asking this…but what happened last
night?” Finding it hard to make eye contact, Tiffany stared down at her hands.

“You don’t remember…
anything
?” The skepticism was evident
in his voice.

Tiffany gazed toward him. “Nothing after mid-night,” she
confessed. Glancing at her clothes again, she mumbled, “Can pretty much guess
some of it…”

“Hmm…you think?” was all he said.

“It’s not rocket science,” Tiffany informed him. The best defense
mechanism—sarcasm.

Tiffany had had enough. She needed to get out of
this
room.
She had a plane to catch that evening, and she wanted to put all of the
ugliness of the night before behind her. It took three attempts before she
could negotiate her body off the bed without falling over, while keeping the sheet
wrapped around her. Seated on the edge of the bed, something caught her eye on
the nightstand. She turned and saw the bold writing across the top.
Marriage
Certificate.

One hand clutched the sheet behind her while she reached for the
paper with the other hand and read the names across the bottom, just above the
signature of the minister of Eternal Bliss Wedding Chapel.

She snapped her head around to face the person she could only
assume was the name and signature below hers—Trevor Wayne. “Tell me this is
some kind of joke.” Anger catapulted through her body. It had been a long
night, and she felt disgusted with herself. She was not in the mood for any
more foolishness.

He looked straight into her eyes. “It’s no joke.”

Tiffany couldn’t stop the tremor of rage that shook her hand.
Throwing the paper down, she began to gather her clothes from the floor as if
someone had just yelled fire.

When she located everything but her underwear, she held the bundle
to her chest and headed toward the bathroom.

She stopped in front of Trevor, who was still blocking the door.
Using the voice she used to put reporters in their place and keep them at bay,
she bit out, “Move.”

“It isn’t necessary for you to dress in the bathroom.” A lopsided
smile adorned his lips.

Tiffany couldn’t miss the slow roaming of his eyes down her body
and the heat that radiated from his body as they stood in close proximity.

“Well, I think it is
very
necessary,
Trevor
.”

The calm shrug of his shoulders as he sauntered out of the way
annoyed Tiffany.

She waited for him to clear the path, then rushed into the
bathroom and stopped cold as she realized that her toga had slid off her body.
She closed the door, but not before she caught a glimpse of Trevor with one
corner of the sheet in his grasp and a dimple winking in his cheek, confirming
he had gotten a full view of her backside.

“Even better than I remember,” she heard the echo of his voice
rumble through the door.

Once inside, she immediately moved to the toilet and dropped to
her knees with remorse over her alcohol consumption the night before. It was
several minutes of dry heaves before she was able to get up. Sheer alarm
apprehended her when she noticed her reflection in the mirror above the sink.
Her hair was in disarray. Her eyes were blood shot and puffy. The biggest shocker
was her nipples, which were swollen, red and tender to the touch. Only one
explanation came to her mind for their state—thoroughly suckled.

Tiffany raised her hands to them. She was amazed when her breasts
responded by puckering to pebbled points. She quickly dropped her hands.
Operating on automatic, she dressed, refusing to ponder what had happened the
previous night. After she combed her hair in a bun and splashed cold water on
her face, she felt controlled enough to exit the bathroom.

She was relieved to see that Trevor was dressed. She ignored the
small voice of disappointment inside of her at seeing his body clothed.

She figured him to be a reasonable man, so she decided to start
with logic and a confident smile. “Listen, I don’t know exactly what happened
last night. A big part of me never wants to know. Unfortunately, we have to
address one of the issues that can’t be allowed to linger. But there’s an easy
solution to it.”

Trevor sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on the top of
his knees. “What’s that?”

“Well, evidently…” Tiffany tried not to look at the evidence of
the rumpled bed, “an annulment is out of the question. We’re just going to have
to get a quickie divorce. It’s Las Vegas. As easily as a wedding can be done,
it can be undone.”

“Only one problem with that. It’s Sunday.”

Tiffany hadn’t thought about that. Even cereal-box license law
offices in “Sin-City” had to take a day off. “Then you can stay here for a few
days…I’ll pay for the room through the week.

Tomorrow you can go down to one of those pop-up courthouses they
have for situations like this and get the form. Then FedEx it to me, and I’ll
sign it uncontested. Overnight it back and we can be done with it,” Tiffany
finished, broadening her confident smile, praying he didn’t realize it was for
bravado’s sake.

“Listen, I don’t have time to kill sitting on my butt in some
Godforsaken city waiting to do your bidding.”

Her smile dropped, and her anger returned, evident in the
trembling of her voice. “Look, I can pay you, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
Looking around until she found her small black Coach clutch, she picked it up
and opened it. “How many shows do you normally do in a week?”

She whipped out her checkbook, pen poised.

Tiffany could have sworn she heard a growl as he stood up, taking
the few steps to bring them eye-to-eye.
He’s even sexy when he’s angry.

“I’m not for sale.”

Tiffany’s nerves jumped with his nearness. For the first time that
morning, she looked into his eyes and felt a little trepidation.
Oh my God.
I would be the one to find myself married to a stripper with principles.

Fear was not something she was used to feeling. “Maybe you’re
taking this the wrong way. I mean no offense, but you need to understand
something…I’m Tiffany Selina.”

“So?”

“
The
Tiffany Selina. I don’t know if you follow politics in
your line of work, but I’m the governor’s daughter.”

“Frankly, in my line of work, I wouldn’t care if you were the
Queen of Sheba. I’m not staying.” His tone rose an octave.

“And
I can’t
be married to a stripper.” Her own pitch
elevated to a screeching tone.

They both stood toe-to-toe, almost breathing in each other’s
breath.

“Too late.” He punched out through clenched teeth.

“So, you’d stay married to someone you don’t love because it isn’t
convenient for you?”

Tiffany threw her hands up in frustration.

“You could always change your plans,” he countered.

“Believe me, if I could, I would.”

“Things probably are different in
your class,
but in mine,
wedding vows are something you honor for life.”

“What vows? We were drunk…God only knows if we even made any.”

“That’s right, but He’s the only one who counts. Well, you do what
you have to do,” He said softly.

 “Fine!” She turned to walk out of the hotel room.

“Tiffany.”

She stopped her progress toward the door upon hearing her name. A
glimmer of hope bubbled in her heart that maybe he’d changed his mind.

When she turned and saw what he held in his hand, the glimmer
died.

“You don’t want to forget these. If you got into an accident, you
may have to explain how you lost them.”

Marching over to him, she grabbed her panties out of his hand and
shoved them in her purse. “It wouldn’t be any worse than having to explain
being married to you, if anyone ever found out.”

She turned and stormed out of the room.

~ML~

Trevor could have kicked himself a dozen times.
What have I
gotten myself into?
He repeated the same question to himself after Tiffany
left, as he began gathering up his few meager belongings into the overnight bag
he’d brought with him when he flew in yesterday afternoon.

His plane was due to leave in two hours, and he needed to get to
the airport.

The last thing he grabbed before leaving out of the room was the
piece of paper binding him to Tiffany Selina.
Leggy, sexy, caramel-brown
skinned Tiffany Selina.

He checked out of the casino hotel and took a taxi to the airport.

Once seated in the waiting area with forty-five minutes to spare,
he allowed himself to think about the past week—back to when the plan started.

Leslie, his aunt and the owner of Elite Entertainment, had called
him at home last weekend in dire need of a dancer. His aunt hadn’t called him
in over five years about doing a job for her, not since he’d told her he was
focusing on his business and wouldn’t be available to help her in that capacity
any longer.
The
Tiffany Selina, the governor’s daughter and party
planner extraordinaire, had just called her about a bachelorette party. He had
originally thought maybe it was her own and that she and Manning had decided to
do a small secret wedding with family.

But his aunt assured him it was for someone else.

Aunt Leslie was his favorite. They dined at least once a month
with each other. Her business had been a tremendous help to him while he was in
college. Dancing for her during holidays and summers had allowed him to pay the
twenty-five percent of his Ivy League college tuition that his scholarship
hadn’t covered.

His aunt told him that providing the entertainment for a party
thrown by Miss Selina was a definite opening for her business into another
realm of the upper class. All of her other male dancers were already obligated
over the weekend, so none of them would be able to perform.