| published
by Class
Act Books
CHAPTER ONE
“Your
position here at Plain Talk is secure.”
Shadoe
Donovan stood in front of the large office window overlooking the
bay of Lake Monona. His six foot, two inch muscular frame cast a
shadow over the thirty-something man sitting in disbelief behind
an oak desk.
“When
did all this happen?” The voice came from somewhere close
behind him.
“Officially,
last night the deal was signed.” Although it was a relatively
calm day on the lake, Shadoe knew things could get stormy in this
office at any moment. Hell, if someone walked in off the streets
and bought the company he worked for, he’d want to know exactly
where he stood.
“Why
this magazine?”
“It’s
small, virtually unknown...exactly what I was looking for.”
Watching the local ski team practice their routine to perfection,
Shadoe felt their aches and pains in getting each move precise.
“For
what? A tax write-off after you’ve driven it into the ground?”
The voice came again, this time edged with sarcasm and irritation.
“Look
here, Scott...”
“My
name is Ric, damn it!”
“All
I’m looking for is someone to write a story.” Shadoe
turned from the window as one of the skiers completed a jump.
“I
want a fresh, unbiased, unknown for this. Someone with the drive,
and desire to tell the truth as they see it, who’s not afraid
of a little bit of controversy.”
“Controversy?”
Ric Scott turned away from the files he’d been asked to get.
“Just what the hell is this story about anyway?”
Shadoe
observed the man who was now under his employ. Ric Scott was going
to be just the person he needed to keep things under control while
he was away on other business. Not a tall man, five foot eight and
stocky, he was dynamic in what he did for a living. So far, everything
he’d heard about the editor-in-chief was right on the money.
“Pro-wrestling.”
A smile on his face, Shadoe watched closely for the normal reaction
to the game he loved so much. A game many people considered a circus
of highly paid performers.
“Are
you nuts? Controversy is right.” Tossing down a pencil, Ric
pushed away from his desk.
“I’ll
be damned if I’ll let you bring this magazine down with that
kind of cover-up story,” he continued. “We write the
truth, not some sugar coated soap!”
“Take
it easy, Scott.” Shadoe walked to the front of the desk. “I’m
not about to change the format. I just want a writer to do the exposé
is all.”
Standing
over the desk, Shadoe knew under usual circumstances his size and
attitude could be intimidating, but this wasn’t the case here.
Ric Scott wasn’t about to back down from him and he liked
that fact very much.
“I
have a plane to catch and don’t have time to pull rank with
you. Let’s see who’s on staff and go from there.”
Shadoe pulled up one of the large winged-back leather chairs.
Shadoe
listened to Ric as he read each staff member’s credentials.
Sitting back in the chair, Shadoe knew halfway through the files
that not one of the staff would fit what he was looking for.
“Look,
Scott,” he began, sitting forward, “everyone so far
has experience. If the rest of them do too, I can’t use them
for this assignment.”
“Alright,
Donovan, just why do you want a virtual unknown?” Scott sighed
deeply. “Unless you’re ready for a lawsuit, which by
the way would destroy the magazine, an experienced journalist would
be best.”
“As
for the legal and financial condition of this magazine it’s
of no concern to you.” Shadoe liked the directness and aggression
of Scott. The fact that this man was so protective of the magazine
and its staff was a welcomed relief.
“This
company can handle anything thrown at it from now on. As for the
why, it’s time for the fans to know how hard pro-wrestlers
train everyday of the year. How difficult it is on their families
when they’re on the road ninety percent of the time,”
he continued, walking back over to the window, gazing at the lake
and the lone boater drifting out on the water. He felt much of his
life was like that boat, just going with the flow, never really
coming to rest for a long time.
“Besides,
I’m the boss and I said so.” Returning to the desk,
he once again stood over Scott with natural authority and intimidation.
“Because it’s the sport that’s enabled me to follow
the career I love and cherish more than any thing or any one. I
owe it to the wrestlers who have been disabled for life or even
given their life in the ring for the love of the game.”
Shadoe
watched the reasoning register deep in Scott’s mind as he
let him think. The cockiness diminished slightly with each passing
moment until at last Scott sighed deeply in a small surrender.
“Okay,
I get the picture. I may just have the person you’re looking
for.” Scott ran his hands through his short dark hair, hesitation
flashing through his face.
“Great!
Who is he?” Shadoe glanced at his watch. His plane was due
to leave in less than forty-five minutes. If things didn’t
progress right now, he’d miss his flight to Hawaii.
“It’s
not a he,” Scott smiled, “but a she. There’s no
real formal training or experience. Just the drive and desire to
write. Her name’s Khristen Roberts, but she’s on her
way for a long deserved vacation.”
“Perfect.
Put her on the assignment as soon as you can reach her.” Shadoe
moved toward the door. “I’ve got a plane to try and
catch. I’ll be in touch with the details soon.”
“What’s
your connection, Donovan?”
Shadoe
turned just as he reached for the door. Pausing, he looked Ric Scott
straight in the eye, deciding quickly to tell him just how connected
he was.
“Ever
hear of ‘The Flame’?”
CHAPTER
1
“Excuse
me, but you’re sitting in my seat.”
“Oh?”
The casually dressed man made no effort to move from the seat he
boldly sprawled his body across. He sat as if he owned this entire
section of the plane, especially the two seats he now occupied.
“Listen,
if you want the window seat that’s just fine with me. There’ll
be nothing to see but water anyway.” Khristen Roberts forced
a smile. She stood and waited for the man to move his legs. It was
the only empty set left in first class and she wasn’t about
to sit in coach. She’d worked too hard and too long for this
vacation and that seat.
Not
even off the ground yet, this is not going to be a fun flight. Who
does this guy think he is anyway? Perturbed, Khristen saw her reflection
in his mirrored glasses. Not only was the obnoxious, handsome man
sitting in her seat, but his large legs swung over onto her now
inherited seat as well. Khristen took matters in her own hands,
reached out and pushed the bare, hairy, tanned, muscular legs out
of her way.
“Hey!”
The soft, deep voice rang out in surprise as he tore the sunglasses
away from his, until now, hidden eyes. Eyes the color of clear seawater,
brilliant and dangerous. A woman could drown in eyes like that.
“What’s
going on here?”
Confusion
and disbelief were very much evident in those sea green eyes, as
well as in his voice. Even the muscles in his biceps seemed to twitch
with surprise. Or was it aggravation? Served him right.
“You,
sir, are in my seat.” Khristen fought to control the building
irritation as she sat down. “I paid good money for it and
don’t intend to share it with you or your legs!”
She
snatched a magazine out from the back of the seat and began to flip
through it. Not really seeing what each page contained, she wondered
what lucky star she had wished on to be stuck next to this despicable
hunk all the way to Hawaii. Despicable was the only nice word she
could think of to describe him. He was the type who thought muscles
and a nice body got them their way. She had dealt with his kind
before.
Khristen
ignored the confusion as the final passengers boarded the plane.
She figured it would be ten minutes or so before they would even
begin to taxi out onto the runway, then in line to wait for take
off out of the Los Angeles airport.
Khristen
fastened her seat belt and prayed that sleep would come for the
remainder of her flight to her long awaited tropical vacation. As
soon as they were in the air, she would locate a station on the
radio, and let her mind tune into some good, hard 1980’s rock
music. Maybe some Van Halen, or Journey, or better yet, David Lee
Roth, anything to make the four-hour trip go faster. Hopefully,
the music would keep her mind from wondering over to the guy who
sat next to her. A man who smelled as good as he looked...all male,
and dangerous as hell.
“You
know you were pretty rude.” The deep male voice pierced into
the silence that Khristen tried to plant between them.
So
much for solitude.
“Me!”
The anger built in her reflected eyes as she glared into the mirrored
sunglasses once again present on her unwelcome travel companion.
“You
should talk, Mr. My Future’s So Bright I Need Shades. I’m
not the seat stealer here.” Khristen’s nerves snapped
with aggravation.
In
a desperate attempt to calm herself down, Khristen rested her head
against the back of her seat. She closed her eyes, hoping to put
an end to the unwanted conversation. As entertaining as it may end
up, she didn’t want to tempt fate. Been there and done that,
as the saying goes, in another place and time. No need to repeat
the same mistake.
“That
still doesn’t give you the right...”
“Listen.
It’s going to be a long flight and if you don’t mind,
I’d rather not spend my time bickering with you. You can have
the seat, and let’s just pretend that neither one of us is
sitting next to the other. Okay? Okay,” she said.
While
the stewardess instructed them all on safety procedures, Khristen
couldn’t help notice that her fellow travel mate, once again,
had the silver framed mirrored sunglasses perched on his nose. An
unquenchable curiosity surged its way to the surface causing an
all too familiar feeling.
Damn
hormones, anyway! She felt them start their rampage through her
body.
His
body fueled her imagination as she tried to look at his facial features,
the one’s she could see anyway. Her daddy always warned her
about being too curious. It only got a girl going down the wrong
path. Too bad she had never taken those words to heart the last
time she had taken a trip.
A
little hidden inspection couldn’t hurt, could it? Not if she
was careful and he didn’t notice her giving him the once over.
She was only looking, not touching after all.
On
his head sat a well-worn Los Angeles Dodgers baseball cap, covering
curly, dark-brown hair that barely peeked out from under the brim.
Khristen’s gaze passed over his hidden gaze from the slightly
visible eyebrows to a somewhat crooked nose. His mouth seemed to
carry a sense of seriousness at the corners of a pair of full lips.
The kind that Khristen imagined could kiss a woman with fiery passion,
or lash out a thousand whipping strokes.
A
quick and unnerving surge passed through her body when her eyes
followed the outline of his strong, squared jaw. With the plane
ascending, her inspection stopped at the end of his determined chin.
A smile hinted to play on his face.
“Like
what you see?” His deep, silky voice held a challenge, and
a touch of conceit. Her eyes had to be revealing everything she
was feeling at that moment.
“Don’t
flatter yourself!” She was scarcely aware of her own voice
or the warm glow touching her cheeks. What she was aware of was
the fact that he had messed up her ecosystem without as much as
a touch.
He
smiled fully, showing each and every pearl white tooth. “Thanks
babe.” He nonchalantly removed the baseball cap.
She
muffled the squeak of pleasure when her inspection took in the massive
chest with its hair that peeked out the top of the black tank shirt
encasing it. A mischievous smile crossed her lips as curiosity took
hold of her again. Mmmm, wonder where that leads? She felt herself
reaching an uncontrollable level. Her warning bell should have gonged
a thousand times by now, but didn’t.
Her
body filled with natural female desire as Khristen focused on those
muscular tanned thighs that hid snugly under a pair of wild colored
spandex shorts. Her heart skipped a beat when his well-toned thigh
muscle twitched.
A
nervous sigh escaped her. She tried with all her might to subdue
the unwanted longing and curiosity that could spell trouble.
Why
do I always seem to go after a challenge? She rested her head against
the seat and tried in vain to suppress the smile crossing her face.
Because, that’s what makes life interesting, and it’s
also what gets me in so much trouble.
Khristen
pushed the image of herself and the stranger out of her mind until
restless sleep finally fell upon her.
*
* * *
It
was all Shadoe could do to keep from laughing. For the first time
in years, here was a woman who didn’t recognize him, or for
that matter, even try to be civil toward him. She was hot for him.
He knew it by the way her body pinked with embarrassment when she’d
been checking him out. Her hot gaze shot boiling lust over him and
made him feel as if his clothing had melted from this body, leaving
him naked and vulnerable.
The
last thing he had expected from her was a flare up. He had always
gotten his way with women before. Maybe it was the women who had
gotten their way with him. Rachel, his ex-wife, had been a prime
example. Regardless, this little piece of female flesh was a regular
spitfire.
It
had been so long since he’d met a woman who did not crawl
all over him that he was not sure of his actions now. Being a professional
wrestler offered “companion” opportunities nightly,
all one had to do was ask. He would have done that years ago, before
the deaths and injuries to some of his buddies woke him to the fact
that the public needed to be educated about the game. He felt the
only way to guarantee the truth be told to his satisfaction was
to have it printed in his own magazine. He owed it to those fallen,
and to himself before it all ended for him.
He
longed for more than being on the road and it gnawed at him more
as the years passed. He watched his fellow wrestlers leave the business
for one reason or another. One might say his biological clock was
ticking.
Shadoe
slipped off his glasses and listened to the even breathing from
the woman beside him. Her breath gently raised her breasts. Breasts
that made him wonder if they were as firm as they appeared.
Good
heavens man, why can’t they all be as challenging as this
one? He wanted to trace the outline of her full lips with his fingertips
and he ached to calm the storm that had brewed between them just
moments ago. The feeling was unlike any he had ever experienced
in either his professional or personal life in quite a while.
Shadoe
slid the glasses back on and turned to gaze out the window, her
window, and wondered if her hair felt as soft as the passing puffs
of clouds looked...
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