Authors: Cheryl Douglas
Book One in the Starkis Family Series
Cheryl Douglas
Copyright © by Cheryl Douglas
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, including photocopying, graphic, electronic, mechanical, taping, recording, sharing, or by any information retrieval system without the express written permission of the author and / or publisher. Exceptions include brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Persons, places and other entities represented in this book are deemed to be fictitious. They are not intended to represent actual places or entities currently or previously in existence or any person living or dead. This work is the product of the author’s imagination.
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Deacon © 2015 Cheryl Douglas
Deacon
When Deacon Starkis sets his sights on the gorgeous young model gracing the pages of his glossy catalogue, he knows he has to have her. One problem. She’s not available. But that won’t stop Deacon. He’s a man used to getting what he wants and he wants Mia.
Mia is stunned when she receives an email from the elusive billionaire who owns the lingerie company she models for. He tells her he’s intrigued. He’s not the only one. But she knows she’d be a fool to throw away an eight year relationship for a brief affair with the head honcho. He doesn’t do relationships and she doesn’t do casual sex. It seems they’re at an impasse.
Who will come out on top in this battle of wills? The dominant one or the woman intent on teaching him the meaning of submission?
Mia
Deacon Starkis first targeted me when I began modeling for his lingerie company six months ago, but the emails didn’t start coming until after he’d seen the proofs for his new spring catalogue.
That was when he decided he had to have me.
Just thinking of his suggestive comments gave me wicked chills. I didn’t know if I should be offended by his remarks or honored that a man who could have any woman wanted me.
But there was one little problem: even if I’d wanted to act out his fantasies, I couldn’t. I was living with my boyfriend, Drew. But that didn’t seem to faze Deacon. He knew I wasn’t available, but still he persisted. He sent me gifts and flowers anonymously, as though I wouldn’t know they were from him. No one else I knew could have afforded a five-hundred-dollar bouquet of flowers, diamond jewelry, or couture gowns.
In the beginning, I’d tried to return the gifts, but that had only angered him. I couldn’t risk upsetting him. Alabaster’s catalogue was the most high-profile, well-paying job I’d ever had, and since Drew had returned to school to pursue a Master of Fine Arts, we needed the money more than ever. Still, I hated keeping our correspondence a secret. I’d never come face to face with the boss man, but I felt as though I was being unfaithful to Drew just by reading and responding to his emails.
“Did you hear a word I said?” Eleni asked, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
Eleni—or El, as I called her—had been my best friend since grade school. In fact, she was the reason I had pursued modeling. I never would have had the courage to walk into the Forbes agency ten years ago without her right by my side, ready to embark on the adventure with me.
“No, uh, sorry,” I said, sipping my green tea. “I must have zoned out for a minute.”
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Is something bothering you, girl?” She reached across the small table in our favorite café and squeezed my hand. “You know you can tell me anything.”
Oh, how I wished that were true. But Deacon had given me very explicit instructions. If I told anyone about our correspondence, I’d be breaking the sacred trust he’d placed in me, and he’d made it clear there would be consequences for betraying him.
“Is it Drew?” she prompted when I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Are you guys fighting again?”
Drew and I had hit a rough patch after he’d simply announced he was going back to school instead of discussing it with me so I could weigh in on his decision. I was the one paying all the bills, and I felt I had a right to help him decide whether that was the best option for
our
future.
At twenty-three, my runway career was all but over—not that it had been anything to write home about. I didn’t fit the mold of a quintessential runway model, and I’d practically starved myself for those jobs. That was why my agent had suggested I try modeling lingerie instead. He’d said I had the right look: toned, long blond hair, big blue eyes, and a “great rack”—as he put it. But for a conservative preacher’s daughter, the idea of posing half-naked was almost as appalling as the possibility of being homeless.
Almost.
In the end, I’d decided to trade my morals for a paycheck.
But I drew the line at selling my soul to a sexy Greek god intent on having his way with me. A girl had to know when she was in over her head, and everything I’d read and heard about
the
Deacon Starkis told me I was definitely playing out of my league.
“Drew is Drew,” I said, sighing. “You know how he is.”
“Yeah, a self-absorbed ass.” Eleni rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”
It was no secret my BFF wasn’t my boyfriend’s biggest fan. They could barely be in the same room without one of them instigating a fight. Eleni thought Drew was using me, and Drew thought Eleni should mind her own business. I thought they should both trust me enough to make my own decisions about what was best for me. So we were at an impasse, with none of us willing to give an inch.
I smiled at my best friend. On the surface, she was my opposite in every way, yet she was still my soul sister. “I love him, El.”
“No, you don’t. You’re just used to him. You’ve been with him forever, and you’re afraid to get back into the dating scene.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I’d met Drew when Eleni and I moved to New York during our sophomore year of high school to pursue our modeling careers. He and I had been inseparable ever since. “You don’t just throw away an eight-year relationship on a whim.”
“But you don’t know what you’re missing,” Eleni said, digging into her chicken salad. “He’s the only serious boyfriend you’ve ever had, your only lover. You have nothing to compare him to.”
Eleni had always believed in playing the field, while I’d been content knowing I already had a good man. She was the outgoing one, and I was the shy, reserved one who was content to curl up with a good book while she closed down the hottest new club. That’s not to say she didn’t drag me along on some of her adventures. She did—too often for Drew’s liking. He said Eleni was a troublemaker who was just trying to break us up. While I was quick to jump to my best friend’s defense, I couldn’t deny that Eleni would have been standing on the table and applauding if I’d admitted I’d been thinking about taking a break from Drew.
“I don’t need to sleep around,” I said, peeling the lid off my Greek yogurt.
Greek.
That made me think of
him
. Of course Eleni was Greek too, but yogurt never made me think of her.
I glanced at my phone, noting I had a new text message. Deacon had taken to texting too, instead of just emailing, but he had yet to call me. Other than the video clips I’d seen online, I’d never even heard his voice. Yet he had infiltrated my thoughts, making it difficult for me to get through an hour without checking my phone. God, maybe he wasn’t the only one who was obsessed.
“Every woman needs to sample a few different flavors before she decides which one is for her,” Eleni said, slicking back her long, straight black hair into a low ponytail.
I rolled my eyes at her analogy. “Men aren’t ice cream. You can’t taste-test a bunch before you decide.”
“Why the hell not?” Eleni asked, raising her perfectly groomed eyebrows.
That reminded me that I had to make an appointment for a mani/pedi and wax. As Bernie, my agent, loved to remind me, my body and face were my money-makers, and I couldn’t afford to be complacent.
Perfection pays,
was his favorite saying. Eleni and I had the same agent, so we routinely mimicked him behind his back—or to his face, depending on the day.
I tried to focus on my conversation with Eleni, but my eyes kept drifting to my damn phone. We had a rule that when we were out together, nothing was allowed to intrude on our girl time, but ever since
he’d
started contacting me, I’d begun checking my phone so often my mother commented they should have had me tested for ADD when I was a kid.
“Well?” Eleni pursed her full lips. “What the hell is with you today? And don’t say nothing. I had more fun with that crackpot who studied astronomy in his spare time because evidently his job at the post office wasn’t boring enough.”
I giggled. She claimed she’d nodded off at the table when he went to the restroom, and knowing my friend, I couldn’t discount that possibility.
“I’m sorry I’m such lousy company today, hon. I was just thinking about this meeting I have with Bernie later. I wonder why he wants to see me. His message was kind of cryptic. ‘Be at my office at two o’clock. Don’t ask any questions, and don’t even think about blowin’ me off.’” I imitated Bernie’s gruff New York accent, earning a chuckle from El.
“Who knows with him? He’s such a drama queen.”
“Yeah, but I got the sense this was different.” I prayed I wasn’t losing my contract with Alabaster’s. Without the work from Deacon’s company, I’d be forced to move back to Earlville and live with my parents. Ugh. Just the thought of it made me break out in a cold sweat.
“I’m sure it’s nothing bad. You always think the worst.”
Only because I was usually disappointed when I let her con me into thinking the best. “I hope you’re right. I could use a little good news.”
“You’d have reason to be happy if you were single.” When I frowned, she said, “I’m just saying… look at you!”
“Sssh,” I said, my eyes widening when two guys at the neighboring table took her up on her suggestion. “Keep your voice down.”
“Excuse me,” Eleni said, tapping the shoulder of the guy next to her.
I closed my mouth around a spoonful of yogurt as I considered the penalty for stabbing my best friend with a butter knife.
“Do you guys think my friend here is pretty?” she asked.
Whatever the penalty, it would be worth it. “El,” I said through clenched teeth, “leave them alone. They’re trying to enjoy their coffee—”
“Definitely,” the one next to me cut in as he inched his chair closer to mine. “We were just talking about how gorgeous you girls are.”
It was thundering outside, and a flash of lightning streaked across the sky. Maybe a huge tree would come crashing down on the roof and force us all to run for cover, putting a merciful end to this humiliating conversation.
Buddy next to me draped his arm across the back of my chair as I leaned forward. He seemed oblivious. “So why haven’t we seen you around here before?”
“I guess our paths have just never crossed.”
Lucky me.
I pulled the zipper higher on my fitted black hoodie when I spotted him trying to sneak a peek at my cleavage as he leaned forward to get his coffee.
My phone rang, and I leapt out of my seat when
Unknown
flashed across the screen. For the first time in my life, I was grateful for telemarketers.
“Excuse me, I have to take this.”
Eleni muttered something about our agreement, but as far as I was concerned, she was the one who’d better hope I was still speaking to her after her little stunt.
“Is he bothering you?” the voice on the phone asked.
I hadn’t even had a chance to say hello before his commanding voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Deacon?” I cast a quick glance around the crowded café. “Is that you? Where are you?” I scanned every table, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“I asked you a question. Is he bothering you?”
Wow
. That was the first time he’d ever spoken to me, and his voice was… captivating. If I’d thought his emails were salacious, they were nothing compared to his voice. His accent was thicker, more pronounced than I’d thought it would be, though that may have been because he seemed irritated. With me?
I chose not to rile him further by asking whom he was referring to. “No, he’s not bothering me.” I swallowed as my eyes skittered over every male in the room. Nope, no billionaire stalkers. “How do you even know where I am… or who I’m talking to?”
He chuckled a deep, rich sound that reminded me of sweet warm liqueur gliding down my throat. “You should know by now that there’s nothing I don’t know about you.”
My heart was racing. “Why are you calling? I thought you preferred to communicate by email or text.” Since he’d been emailing or texting daily for almost three months, I’d assumed his game would continue until he tired of it and moved on to his next conquest. Strangely, that thought left me feeling a little sad and then annoyed with myself for being sad.
“I thought it was time to step up my game. I can’t become too predictable now, can I?”
“I don’t think anyone could ever accuse you of being predictable, Deacon.” I leaned against the wall by the ladies’ restroom, unable to believe I was actually talking to him after all this time. What would he say? Would his comebacks be as quick and suggestive on the phone as they had been via text?
“I love the way you say my name, Mia.”
It occurred to me that I should call him Mr. Starkis since he was my boss, but that would have been too weird after all the things he’d said he wanted to do to me. Was that why he was calling? To put me to the test? I tried to ignore the insistent throbbing between my legs as I considered the possibilities.
I’m so going to hell for this.
“You didn’t say… why are you calling.”