Killing Casanova
Authors: Traci McDonald
Traci McDonald
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2012 by Traci Hinton McDonald
Previously published by F+W Media
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by AmazonEncore, Seattle
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and AmazonEncore are trademarks of
Amazon.com
, Inc., or its affiliates.
eISBN: 9781503966819
This title was previously published by F+W Media; this version has been reproduced from F+W Media archive files.
For Erik, who shows me every day what a man who truly loves you looks like.
My deepest thanks to my sister Kamarie for being the best cheerleader a girl ever had.
To Alyssa Shrout, the best writer I know, and the best friend I could ask for. I’d be lost without you.
To Virginia, for teaching me how to be not just a writer, but a good one.
To my editor, Jennifer Lawler, and the Ladies in Red at Crimson Romance, thanks for all the great ideas and for all your patience with the blind lady. You guys are great.
Special thanks to the Utah State Offices for The Blind and Visually Impaired, the Utah Chapter of The National Federation of The Blind, and Freedom Scientific for JAWS, their screen reading program.
Chapter One
“Jake.” The honey-sweet voice drifted over the raucous sounds of the bar. Jake gulped down the last of his melted-ice-cube drink and turned back to check his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The DJ was throwing back the rest of his drink too and preparing to start the next dance set. Jake ran his fingers through his hair, tousling the dark curls off his brow and watching the approach of a group of women behind him. Someone sultry had called his name, and he grinned crookedly, hoping it was one of these girls.
Four pairs of sparkling eyes probed his reflection, and he winked teasingly, drawing their long, tawny legs in cut-off jeans toward him. They were like a pride of golden-tanned lionesses spreading out for their attack, and Jake smiled more broadly as they skirted the crowd to close in on him.
Spinning on his stool, he cast his gaze back into the crowd as if looking for something or someone else, knowing that his lack of attention would just speed their descent on him. From the corner of his eye, Jake caught the flounce of blond curls and green eyes as a sultry form slid next to him at the bar. Possessively clutching his knee, she draped her slim, delicate hand onto his thigh and then moved his knees apart with her hips.
“Jake?” Her whisper prickled against his ear. “You’re not going to dance with those little …”
Natalie Harper’s voice paused ever so slightly, as she glanced pointedly at the women closing in around him. A wicked smile curled her lips as she looked back at Jake’s reddening face, waiting for his mind to fill in the unspoken insult, before she turned his stool until he faced her crimson lips.
Natalie was beautiful, nearly six feet tall with eyes the color of the Irish hills. She put her other perfectly manicured hand on his other leg and pressed her curvaceous body against him, speaking in low, sultry tones.
“You belong to me tonight, Jake.”
Twisting the stool back until he once again faced the dance floor, he forced Natalie to stumble along with him. Jake leaned his forearms back against the brass bar behind him.
“I’m drinking, Nat,” Jake hissed, pulling as far back from her as possible. “Not dancing.”
Natalie stood straight now, causing the pendant of her long silver chain to disappear into her cleavage. The white tank top she wore clung to her slightly sweaty body and Jake bit back a scowl as he watched more than one pair of eyes follow the heart-shaped bobble as it vanished, along with a single drop of Natalie’s sweat, beneath her plunging neck line. She scowled openly and crossed her arms under her breasts, tapping one of her sandals impatiently.
“That drink’s gone, Jake. I’ll disappear a lot faster than those ice cubes if you don’t dance with me.”
She leaned across Jake’s steely gaze, revealing the nestling pendant, before plucking the ice cube from the top of his glass. Holding out her tongue to catch the dripping droplets and then sucking it into her mouth, Natalie straightened once more, smiling demurely. Hearing the sharp intake of more than one man’s breath, Jake fought the temptation to roll his eyes. He took the half-empty glass from the bar beside him and pulled an ice cube out as well, throwing it into his mouth and grinning at her.
“You better get going then,” he teased, “I’ve only got two more to go.”
Tonight had been Natalie-free — until now — thanks to his friend Lilly Pinion. Lil had been keeping a close watch on the blond bombshell by conveniently keeping herself in Jake’s arms whenever Natalie was prowling, but now Lilly was off somewhere stalking her own herd of small-town cowboys, and Jake was on his own. Three and a half weeks ago Natalie’s body and her lips had tormented Jake to distraction until he had spent some real time with her. Without the flashing lights of the bar and the too loud music, he had discovered the best part of kissing her, which was the only part with any appeal for him: it kept her from babbling relentlessly about … everything … nothing.
With another cocky grin, Jake picked up his glass and shouldered his way into the pressing crowd, not worried about Natalie being well-cared for in his absence. Jake found the swinging doors to the parking lot and pushed out into the night air. The roiling heat of the desert would soon be upon them, and the eighty degree nights would not last until June.
He had promised Heidi one last camping trip out to Navajo Canyon, and his mustang, Deseo, was chomping for one more run through the high meadows of the Sierra Nevadas. It would have to be soon, before the summer slaughter and the haying had to be done. Jake smiled wanly at the flirtatious glances of a few late-arriving teenage girls, but he did not move from his inclined position against the log wall of Mcgoo’s. He had come home to help with the summer work at the cattle ranch, but the restlessness inside his heart could not be quelled tonight, and he was certain the glass in his hand was not chain enough to keep him here much longer.
Turning back to the pulsating music and lights of the interior, Jake saw the blur of Natalie’s long hair again, and he slipped through the doors, along one wall and into a chair at the back corner table.
Deeper shadows hid his piercing blue eyes, and he leaned the chair back on its hind legs to sink further into oblivion. He had held, danced, and talked to at least three-quarters of the girls in the bar tonight hoping the usual distraction of their desperate attention would calm his heart. Gary Burke, his agent, had left him three text messages and four voicemails in the past three hours; his phone vibrated in his pocket to remind him that he had ignored them. He didn’t want to think about that tonight, and he certainly didn’t want to focus on life decisions with so many lovely distractions pulsating around him, but here he sat alone in a dark corner avoiding both the decisions and the distractions in favor of … ?
Jake watched Carter Langdon carry four longneck bottles of beer through the back door of the bar, apparently out onto the delivery dock of Mcgoo’s. He would have to keep watch on Carter tonight; that guy was dangerous with too much alcohol — and he had passed “too much” an hour ago.
Steve Burwell appeared at the table in front of Jake and set down a chilled glass of lemonade on a paper coaster.
“Put that chair back on the floor,” he growled, glaring at Jake.
Jake set the chair back on all four legs and grinned broadly at the grumpy old bartender.
“Sorry, Steve,” he said. Steve straightened and folded his beefy arms across his massive chest as he scrutinized Jake’s apologetic smile.
“What are you doing back here, Jake?” the bartender asked with narrowed eyes. “Your fan club can’t find you back here in the dark.”
Jake drank another ice cube from his empty glass and smiled more broadly now. “That’s the point, Steve-o,” he said with a chuckle, “I need a break from the fans.”
Steve grimaced and glanced back toward the floor, stiffening slightly as the song ended and the dancers returned to line up at the bar.
“Don’t make a fuss back here,” he warned, pointing a finger at Jake and stepping aside to allow an auburn-haired girl to sit at the table. Steve glanced nervously at her, and then turned his back on Jake.
Jake smiled again, watching the bartender’s usually stony manner soften into putty as he spoke softly to the girl and then moved a lemonade into the palm of her outstretched hand. She smiled warmly and tenderly patted his arm, bringing on a flush of color Jake had not known was possible in the graying features of the long-time bartender. He choked back a laugh before Steve could hear him and then looked at the girl.
She was pretty, but not spectacular, especially in comparison to the immaculate beauties surging throughout the room. Her long, wavy auburn hair was sun-streaked blond in places. Not highlighted in a sink somewhere, but truly streaked with flecks that were the result of long days in the sun. Her features were soft and pretty, but she wore no makeup and her eyes seemed too pale for her tanned features. They were blue, or maybe gray? It was hard to tell in the dim lights.
As she sipped slowly on her drink, light from the dance floor turned her eyes a pale sky blue. Jake shuddered a little at those eyes. They rested on nothing and seemed to see everything all at once. He turned away from them before she could catch him watching. Sliding his chair back away from her table and further into the corner, Jake looked everywhere except at her. The quiet hum of her voice caught him by surprise.
“You don’t have to hide,” she said with a soft laugh. “I don’t bite.”
Jake blushed openly at her quiet reproach. He should have known she would have been watching him, and he would not have been able to make even the slightest movement away from her without her noticing. He was surprised he had stayed hidden in the back corner this long without one of his entourage finding him.