Unleashed: Volume 1 (Unleashed #1) (9 page)

“You know, the one
who’s hotter than hell! He looks like a freaking rock star or
something. I saw him down at the Shop ‘n’ Save the other day and
nearly pissed my pants.”

“You saw him at the
Shop ‘n’ Save?” The wistful, whiney quality to my voice wasn’t
lost on Mandy.

“Oh, it’s like
that, is it?” She gave me a gleeful smile. “Does someone have a
crush?”

I turned away and put
some lip gloss on in the mirror. “I don’t know what you’re
talking about.” Mandy was always crushing on some guy or another.
I’d always listened patiently, or mostly patiently, sometimes not
so much listening. But I’d never had my own crush to gush about.
Until now.

Only now I found I
didn’t want to talk about it. Declan was mine. Only he wasn’t
mine and I felt all bent out of shape about it, hot and cold and
frustrated as hell.

“I’m surprised your
dad hired him.” Mandy came over closer with a conspiratorial air.
“I heard he did some time in Riverside.”

That got my attention.
“The detention center?” It was about two hours south, a place I’d
heard was rough and full of meth heads.

“Juvie!” She
declared, all too happy with her revelation. “He’s a criminal.”

“You don’t know
that.” I brushed her off, snapping my purse shut. “That’s a
rumor.”

“I heard it from more
than one person so it must be true.”

I rolled my eyes as we
walked out. “This from the person who found a crop circle.”

“I did!”

Back in the movie
theater, we settled in and Bruce’s arm came up around me like
clockwork. The movie was even worse than I could have imagined. Why
did they always go into the dark basements alone? Bruce tried to
stick his tongue down my throat more than once but I fended him off,
frustrated more at myself than at him.

Why didn’t I want his
tongue down my throat? I wished I did. Life would be so simple. What
was wrong with me now, what switch had flipped to make me want the
wrong guy? A guy with a criminal record, apparently.

Just as I resolved to
try to be nicer to Bruce, he pissed me off more. Walking to his
truck, he said, “I heard there’s a criminal working on your
ranch.” I groaned. “Your dad must have his reasons for hiring
him, but I want you to steer clear of that guy.”

“Oh, so now you know
what’s good for me, better than my dad?” I stopped dead in my
tracks, hands on my hips. “Listen, if Daddy hired him he knows what
he’s doing. Declan’s the hardest worker we’ve had on our ranch
in years. So why don’t you mind your own business.”

I saw Mandy and Bruce
exchange glances. The drive home was pretty silent and I about leapt
out of the car the second it pulled up in front of my house. No
necking in the cab tonight.

But up in my bedroom, I
felt so restless. Down below, far into the night, I could see the
light on in Declan’s cabin. Was he up? Had he left it on while he’d
gone out? I couldn’t see his truck, but he could have parked it
around behind the barn. Part of me wanted to go and check but I still
had a scrap of dignity left in me.

But maybe he was down
there in his cabin, lonely. He might be shirtless like he had been in
the barn the other day. Lying in my bed, I wasn’t wearing much,
just a tank top and panties. It was a hot night. I traced my fingers
lightly down my side, along my thighs.

I could picture him on
the old beat-up couch I knew he had in his quarters. What would he do
if I walked down there? What if I came right into his cabin late at
night? Would he turn me away, harsh like he had that afternoon? Or
would he be different in the darkness?

“Declan,” I
murmured, wishing I knew more about him. Had he spent time in juvie?
Even if he had, I somehow felt like he had a good reason. He wasn’t
a shifty-eyed criminal, that much I felt in my bones, but there was
so much I didn’t know about him. I knew he’d grown up in Montana
because I’d overheard him talking with Bill, but where and how and
with who? What was his family like? What had he been like as a kid?
It was difficult to picture him young, sitting behind a desk in
school all neat in a row. He had such a live current of energy
coursing through him.

How many girlfriends
had he had? If you could even call them girlfriends, I rolled my eyes
at myself. I was so naïve.

Shifting onto my back,
I willed myself to close my eyes and think of stupid, meaningless
things like popcorn or mountains or tree bark. But the image I
fixated on as I drifted off to sleep fascinated me far more than any
other. Declan in the barn without his shirt, all long, lean muscles,
a few tattoos licking around his shoulders and arms, teasing,
beckoning, captivating.

Now

“You’ve got this,”
I murmured, psyching myself up as I thrust back my shoulders and
smoothed out my itsy-bitsy black dress. I had to own it tonight. Any
sign of weakness and I was done for. Declan was tough, I knew that,
but I’d watched a lot of movies and tonight I was going to channel
every cutthroat, stone cold sexy bitch I’d ever seen on a screen.
This was my night. I was going to walk in there and knock him dead.
Then, when I had him right where I wanted, I would pitch him so
convincingly he’d have to say yes.

Giving me a small
business loan was a great investment opportunity. For a guy who
invested in ranches, no less. Plus, I had a ton of work experience I
could put to use on his other properties. This could be the beginning
of a whole new amazing chapter in my life.

I parked a block and a
half away, not too far so that I couldn’t walk it in my 4-inch
heels, but far enough to let the warm summer breeze gently caress my
hair and leave that pick-up truck behind. I needed a block and a half
to get into character, an actress before the “lights, camera,
action.” I rounded the corner and saw it: fig & fennel, all
lower-case black letters with subtle back lighting. Were capital
letters uncool now? I hadn’t gotten the memo.

Shoulders back, chin
up, I strode down the sidewalk like it was a red carpet, paparazzi on
the side snapping my pic. A man standing outside the restaurant did a
double take while his date glared. That had to be a good sign, right?
A few more groups stood outside in the warm summer night. Apparently
fig & fennel packed them in.

Inside, the subtle
lighting, low, pulsing music and laughter of the well-dressed created
a chic ambiance. A tall, striking hostess greeted me with equal parts
warmth and efficiency.

“Good evening. Do you
have a reservation?”

I strode toward her
like I did this every night. “I’m here to meet Declan Hunt.”

It would be an
exaggeration to say that a hush fell over the entire restaurant, but
I definitely felt a sudden change. Every wait staff within earshot
and even a couple of patrons looked at me with interest.

“Mr. Hunt!” The
hostess drew herself up to her full height. “Of course. He’s
expecting you. Right this way, please.” She began making her way
through the tables and whispered a command to a waiter who scurried
away to do her bidding. Another waitress in a starched white button
down shirt and black pants stood at attention and gave me a slight
nod like I was the Queen of England. I quelled a nervous laugh
bubbling up inside me. Was Declan that much of a big shot?

Against the back wall,
I could sense the man himself before I could actually see him.
Shadowed in darkness, I could still make out Declan’s large,
imposing frame. My heart raced and my mouth felt dry but I forced my
legs to slow down and strut their stuff across the floor. I had to
own it tonight.

Declan’s face still
in shadows, I couldn’t even tell if he was looking at me, just like
in that damn pulled-low cowboy hat he used to wear. I could never see
his eyes underneath the shade. The hostess stopped at a table in the
back, somewhat set apart from the others in a secluded and romantic
corner. Declan stepped forward into the light.

My breath caught in my
throat. The man was so smoking hot. The jacket was gone, but the
dress shirt and pants remained, tailored perfectly so you could see
he was cut of rock-solid granite. Strong jaw, dark intense eyes, his
hair looked as if it might still be slightly wet from a shower. I
wouldn’t mind being in a shower with him, reaching my hands up
along those shoulders, so massive and hard, digging my nails into his
flesh.

“Elena.” He nodded
both a greeting and a dismissal at the hostess.

“Enjoy your dinner,
Mr. Hunt.” She turned and left us.

“Good to see you,
Kara.” He leaned in to me and wrapped a large hand around the small
of my back. I could smell that musky, masculine scent all his own.
His warm skin grazed mine as he dipped his head down and gave me a
quick kiss on the cheek. A greeting that brief and common shouldn’t
have nearly knocked me over, but it did. My stomach flipped low in my
belly and I felt myself starting to melt. The man was a freaking fire
hazard.

“Hi,” I managed,
breathless and flushed. He drew back but not far, just enough to take
in every inch of me, down to my stilettos and my legs, buffed,
polished and glistening from the salon. My dress felt tinier by the
second, as if it shrunk under the heat of his admiration. His eyes
rested along my neckline and I could almost feel him caress me there,
running a finger along the top of my dress, pausing to explore the
valley hinted at between my breasts.

“You’re gorgeous,”
he murmured, his voice low and somewhat gruff.

“Thank you.” I
trembled, still wrapped in his arm, his hand pressed on my lower
back. He clenched his jaw. He always used to have stubble at night.
He must have just shaved. It would feel so good to run my thumb along
his smooth skin.

“May I interest you
in one of our house specialty cocktails?” A waiter appeared at my
side and I had to admit, I had no idea what he was talking about.
Where was I again?

“In a moment.”
Declan dismissed him. Then he moved to my chair and pulled it out.
“Please, Kara, sit.”

I swallowed and took a
seat, automatically pulling the linen napkin before me out of its
elaborate folds and smoothing it over my lap. The napkin covered far
more skin than my dress. What had I been thinking going out in public
in this scrap of fabric? I felt naked under Declan’s smoldering,
hungry gaze and it made me quiver.

What was my plan again
for the night? My mind whirled and I tried to take a deep breath. I
was supposed to own it, channel my inner bitch, make him an offer he
couldn’t refuse. How about just making it through in one piece?

“May I order you some
wine?” Declan sat down next to me instead of across the table. His
leg rested ever so slightly against my own and I could immediately
feel the heat radiating off of him. Drawing in my breath, I crossed
my legs away to the side. “What do you like?” he asked in a low,
husky voice.

Wine, he was talking
about wine. I noticed he now held a drink in his hand. “I’ll have
whatever you’re having.”

“It’s a double
bourbon.”

“Not sure that’s a
good choice. I’d end up under the table.” Declan gave me the
start of a dangerous smile, as if he liked the idea. “I mean…”
I laughed nervously. “How about some wine? White wine.”

“Steven, bring us the
Barbaresco,” Declan commanded and the waiter whisked himself away.

“Are you a regular,
here?”

“A regular?”

“You know, a regular.
Like Donny and Hal at the Chat ‘n’ Chew.” Dear lord, had I just
mentioned the Chat ‘n’ Chew? I wished I could shove a sock in my
mouth. Instead, I continued, “You seem to know everyone’s names.”

“I own the
restaurant.”

I looked up, eyes wide.
“Really? I thought you made ranches into resorts.”

“That too. I’m
diversifying my investment portfolio.”

“Oh, right.” I
nodded. Sure, whatever that meant. But, I had to admit, I was
impressed. This fancy, packed, line-out-to-the-street restaurant
looked like something you’d find in New York or L.A., not that I’d
ever been to either city. He sure had come a long way from the ranch
hand I’d known six years ago. A long way from my current reality.

“I wait tables at the
Chat ‘n’ Chew,” I blurted out. “I work the morning shift five
days a week.” Could I please stop talking? I took a big sip of ice
water and inhaled a cube down the wrong pipe.

“You all right?”
Declan put a large, warm hand on my back. I sputtered and flapped my
hands, then managed to breathe.

Laughing, I looked at
him. “I’m so elegant. I guess you can take the girl out of the
ranch but you can’t take—”

“You’re beautiful,
Kara.” Declan reached out and took my hand. Had I been saying
something? I couldn’t remember. His eyes were like dark chocolate
and his lips looked sinfully full, perfect to lick and taste. “You’re
the most stunning woman in the room.”

I laughed, looked away
and blushed but kept my hand right where it was. Normally I’d
deflect a compliment with some kind of a joke, maybe tell him to
stop. At the moment, though, words failed me. Declan was holding my
hand, his large, warm palm enveloping my own. Did he honestly find me
stunning?

I looked down at our
hands entwined together. He worked inside now. How could his skin
still be more tan and rough than my own?

In the center of the
table a candle flickered in a hurricane glass. But the heat I felt
came from his body, radiating into mine. His thumb caressed my hand,
slowly stroking my skin. His large thigh pressed against my own.

He dropped his other
hand to the table. It made an awkward bang and the plates and
silverware jumped. I started and quickly drew back.

“Sorry about that,”
he grumbled, then took a sip of ice water.

I carefully crossed my
legs and slanted them to the side once again.