The Driven Snowe Read online

  “Sex changes things.”

  Josh continued, “You should really think about what you’re proposing we do tonight.”

  Angela had come so far, and his bedroom was just a few feet away. Her body was protesting loudly. It knew what it wanted and it was sitting right next to her.

  She glanced around his living room, and for a second focused on an electrical cord that was dangling from a fish tank. She then gave the arm of the sofa an appraising look.

  I could tie him up.

  She grinned.

  He moved closer to her and began stroking her side in what she guessed was supposed to be a comforting gesture. But the feel of his broad hand moving down her body elicited a warmth that was now quickly spreading within her.

  “Intimacy isn’t just something you rush into,” Josh warned. His mouth pushed on hers gently. “Kissing…maybe we could make do with just that.”

  Angela leaned away from him then and slipped her dress over her head. “Sure,” she said in mock agreement. “Just kissing it is.”

  Dear Reader,

  I can’t tell you how excited I am to be writing for the new Blaze series! This line gives authors the opportunity to mix mind-blowing passion with tender romance in the best possible way!

  I’ve always been intrigued by how people view sex and love differently—and how some people think they can keep the two separate. Take Angela and Josh, my characters from The Driven Snowe. Angela Snowe thinks that she can “experience” the passion of sex without being bogged down with the commitments of a relationship. Ordinarily Josh Montgomery would agree with her, since he’d been practicing that very belief for years. But with the right people, sex is not only an integral part of a relationship, but can be a doorway to the kind of love that most people only dream about.

  I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Better still, drop me an e-mail at [email protected], and let me know what you think! And check out the Blaze Web site at www.tryblaze.com.

  Cathy Yardley

  Books by Cathy Yardley

  HARLEQUIN DUETS

  23—THE CINDERELLA SOLUTION

  THE DRIVEN SNOWE

  Cathy Yardley

  To my Mom, Yen Duong Yardley,

  who taught me how to survive,

  and my Dad, James Vincent Yardley,

  who taught me how to plan.

  I love you both.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  1

  “HOW DO YOU DO THAT?”

  Josh Montgomery didn’t look up from his Palm Pilot until he’d finished jotting in a name and phone number. In the notes section, he added: Melissa. Redhead from Cable Car. Likes waterskiing. With that done he tucked the gadget back into his pocket. “Sorry, Adam. How do I do what?”

  Adam, his best friend and business partner, was grinning. “You only talked with her for five minutes, and she acts like she’s ready to jump you behind the bar—but classy about it.” He shook his head. “It’s like this everywhere I’ve ever seen you. Even here in backwoods Northern Cal.”

  “Manzanita is not backwoods,” Josh demurred. Granted, a stuffed moose head overshadowed the jukebox, and the Corona he was drinking was still looked at askance when perfectly good Bud was available, but a lot had changed since he’d grown up in the small town.

  Adam huffed impatiently. “You know what I mean. City or hicksville, you’ve got women lining up. What’s your secret?”

  “No secret.” Josh took a swallow of beer.

  Adam’s eyes narrowed. “It’s the rich thing, isn’t it?”

  Josh laughed, gesturing at his khakis and denim shirt. “Yup. I just scream millionaire.”

  “Well, then, what is it?”

  Adam had joked about this before, but tonight, he sounded stubborn about it. Josh thought about an answer. “I think it’s because I’m a nice guy.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “No, really.” Josh considered it a few more minutes, then said slowly, “My dad once said if you ever want to sell something, don’t talk about what it is that you’re selling. Ask about what it is they want to buy.”

  “That’s catchy,” Adam said. “I don’t see the point, but it’s catchy.”

  “The point is, if you want women to want you, you don’t advertise what you are. You find out what they want.” He grinned as Adam rolled his eyes. “My mom would actually agree with that.”

  “You may be the only man I’ve ever met who isn’t insulted by being called a nice guy.” Adam’s voice expressed a mix of disgust and curiosity. “You’re also possibly the only guy I’ve ever met that is a ‘nice guy’ and still manages to get laid on a regular basis. Normally, women just toss out nice guys like garbage.” He looked cheered by this. “I don’t suppose you’ve been dumped?”

  “Um, not really,” Josh said, grinning even more at Adam’s look of disappointment. “I am also—well, nice enough to be completely honest with the women I spend time with. I don’t promise them a bunch of stuff, and then not deliver it. So there you have it—honesty and attention.” He paused. “It’s just like sales, now that I think about it.”

  Adam smirked. “Think your patented nice guy sales approach would work on that blonde over there?”

  “Depends on what you’re selling.” Josh glanced over to where Adam was staring. The woman in question had brilliant platinum hair that stood out like a beacon against the dark wood paneled walls. “Happy hunting.”

  “Nice guy. I’m a nice guy,” Adam muttered as he walked away. “God. My fraternity would tar and feather me.”

  Josh watched as Adam made his way to the blonde’s corner, easily striking up a conversation.

  Josh turned back to the bar. He’d already collected three numbers that night. He pulled out his Palm Pilot and glanced at his schedule. No late meetings or out of town business next week, which meant that he’d probably be making dates with at least two of the women he’d met. They’d go out to a restaurant. Maybe a club in Sacramento. As far as anything more, well, physical—he considered his prospects with an almost clinical detachment. The redhead seemed like a candidate. As had the young Asian woman he’d met an hour before.

  Or was that last night?

  He took another swig from his Corona. He could predict the future already—he could practically type it into his Palm Pilot just sitting there. Two weeks with redhead—dinner, dancing, partying. Go back to her place/my place. Two more weeks, maybe three, of some really romantic interludes.

  He sighed.

  Figure out that I’m getting bored with her. Very gently disengage contact. Repeat cycle with new candidate.

  He was getting into a rut.

  “Josh Montgomery?”

  He barely glanced over his shoulder, still stuck in his own thoughts, but the soft, lyrical voice gave him pause. “Yes?”

  It was another woman. She was just over average height, maybe five foot eight, with a well-proportioned build. A bit on the lean side, but she had curves in the right places. She was wearing a black dress that would have looked a lot better if she’d stop tugging at the hemline. She had luxurious mahogany hair that was pulled back in a severe ponytail at the nape of her neck. Fortunately, she had the kind of face that could pull it off, with high cheekbones, aquiline nose and huge, wide-set doe eyes that surveyed him with velvety brown seriousness.

  “Well, hello,” he said, with more enthusiasm.

  She didn’t smile. Her lips, which lo
oked full, were pulled taut with obvious strain. “I was hoping I’d find you here,” she said, her voice a musical rush. “Can I, er, buy you a drink?”

  He glanced at his beer. It was half-full. “I’m doing all right,” he replied.

  “Oh.”

  She stared at him.

  He waited for her to shift the conversation into something else, likely some other sort of come-on. Haven’t I seen you before? or Don’t you know so-and-so? or even Come here often? But she just stood there, clutching at her little beaded purse.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he finally offered, smiling.

  “Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She glanced at the list of drinks posted above the bar. To his amusement, she pushed at the bridge of her nose, then blinked with a startled jolt. She wears glasses, he thought. She’s not used to her contacts. “I’ll have an Amaretto and orange juice. Not too strong,” she added with emphasis.

  The bartender quickly poured her drink, and Josh motioned to add it to his tab. She still stood, staring at him.

  “Why don’t we find someplace to sit?” Josh said.

  He wasn’t sure why he was doing this. She was pretty, but she wasn’t stunning. Not to be immodest, but he’d been around enough stunning women in his career to know. Still, there was something about her that intrigued him. Maybe it was because she seemed so out of place.

  “So. You were hoping you’d find me, and here we are,” he said, as she settled herself in her chair. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t know you, do I?”

  “You don’t know me,” she confirmed, taking a sip of her drink. It had very little alcohol, but he noticed her wince.

  Not a big drinker, either. What’s she doing in a bar?

  “Actually, I don’t really know you, either. Well, other than by reputation.”

  Groupie. Knows I’m rich. He smiled, even as his interest in her ebbed. “Oh. Then you know my company, Solar Bars.”

  “Of course I know Solar Bars. You’ve turned the economy of Manzanita around with it.” She didn’t sound impressed, and waved the comment away with her hand. “That wasn’t the reputation I was referring to, though.”

  “It isn’t?” He frowned, and dammit if that intrigue didn’t creep back into his consciousness. His mind shuffled through the possibilities for a minute. “Not the football thing. I’d like to think I was a good quarterback when I was at Manzanita High, but that was how many years ago?”

  She grinned, took another quick sip and made a sour face. “No, it’s not that. I did live here then—I remember you from high school.” She smiled shyly.

  Now he was baffled and just bordering on aroused. “I guess I’m just going to have to ask,” he said, with a note of seduction in his voice. “Which reputation are you talking about?”

  She smiled, brightly, taking a deep breath.

  “I picked you because you’re a sure thing.”

  I MUST BE OUT of my mind! Even as the words left her mouth, Angela Snowe felt like grabbing her bag and tottering on her big stupid heels out of this meat market.

  His eyes blazed at her. “I’m a sure thing?”

  “That is, I had heard you would be very likely to—well, I was hoping…” She stammered, and tried for another deep breath. This wasn’t working the way she’d planned. “I really need help with a situation. A, uh, sexual situation. I thought your stance on, um, things like this was common knowledge.”

  “It’s common knowledge that I’m the town slut?”

  She could feel her skin heating with a blush. “I wouldn’t have put it that way.”

  “You just did.” His eyes narrowed. “So you’re propositioning me, is that what’s going on here?” His voice was whiplash sharp, and each word cut. “You just need to get serviced…”

  “I’m a virgin.”

  The simple phrase stopped his righteous tirade cold.

  She felt nervousness bubble through her, and took a bracing sip from her drink. “I’m twenty-nine years old, and I’m a virgin. That’s why I came looking for you.”

  He stared at her as if she’d escaped an asylum. Then he smiled, slowly. “Okay. This has got to be some kind of funniest videos show. Who put you up to this?”

  It wasn’t a person that had put her up to this. It was more like a thing. Not that she was about to explain it to him. “This is far from a practical joke, believe me.”

  He sat there as if silently weighing what she’d told him, then shook his head. “If you’re serious…no. I’m sorry,” he said, in a tone that didn’t really sound as if he was, “but I just couldn’t.”

  She was surprised at how crestfallen she felt. This man was notorious for his number of conquests. The fact that he would not sleep with her spoke volumes. “Why not?” she blurted.

  “Why not?” He shot her a look of disbelief. “Because despite what you might think, men don’t just…perform. And contrary to ‘common knowledge,’ I sure as hell don’t. Were you planning on paying me when we were done, too?”

  “Um,” she chuckled weakly, “would that change your mind?”

  He shook his head, blue eyes flashing like lightning. “Lady, you’re killing me.”

  “Honest, I was kidding,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sound like some sort of gigolo, or something.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” His sarcasm could have cut glass. “I suppose you were kidding about the whole virginity thing, too.”

  “No, I was serious about that. I’d really like you to help me with my, well, situation. Tonight, that is. I don’t really have a lot of choice about that.” She shook her head, her fear and embarrassment warring with her determination. “I know it’s a bizarre request, and I can’t explain it to you. I’m…it would mean a lot to me.” She glanced down at the tabletop. “I had to at least give it a try.”

  He studied her silently. She felt as if she was drowning in the humiliation of it.

  His hand reached out, stroked her cheek, and she felt a shuddering ripple through her body. His eyes got low-lidded, and he leaned toward her.

  “So I’m a sure thing. What else would a modest woman like yourself call that? A man of questionable morals? Of ill repute?” He laughed mirthlessly at himself, then looked at her, his eyes suddenly turning intense. “And you’re a virgin, huh?” he murmured, moving closer. “Only one way to find out, I guess. That is, for a guy like me.”

  His lips covered hers. They were soft, yet firm, and quickly molded against her mouth. After a second of shock, she became curious and pressed forward. It felt like…like eating jalapeños, she thought after a moment. The initial sweet, then a ring of fire burning her lips. She pushed forward a little more, putting a hand against his chest.

  He cupped the side of her face. She felt his tongue run along her lips, causing the faintest tickle, before parting them and tickling her tongue. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest.

  Just as suddenly as it had started, it seemed, it was over.

  Startled, she opened her eyes, breathing raggedly. His breathing was also uneven, she noticed. His blue eyes sparked like sapphires and flame. “What’s your name?”

  “Angela.”

  “I’m sorry, Angela,” he said. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  TEN MINUTES LATER, Josh had dragged Adam outside in front of the bar. “I have to talk to you. Now.”

  “I was about to close the deal with that blond chick using your patented nice guy technique.” Adam looked decidedly surly. “This had better be life threatening.”

  “Oh, it’s life threatening, all right,” Josh promised with his own brand of menace. “I’m going to kill you for this little prank.”

  To his credit, Adam’s face was blank. “What little prank?”

  “Don’t play stupid.” The incident he’d just experienced in the bar still coursed through him, and he was angry at almost being taken in by it…at how affected he was by Angela and her fake soulful plea. Hell, his body was still affected by her, protesting his refusa
l with a vicious throb. “The really low thing was the setup. A virgin, all serious and scared, calling me a ‘sure thing’ and asking for anonymous sex!” He growled. “This is low, even for you.”

  Adam was silent for a long moment. “Buddy, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I am suddenly very, very curious.”

  Josh felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. “You mean, you really don’t know? You didn’t set this up?”

  “No, but you’re starting to make me wish I had.” Adam’s obvious humor and interest convinced Josh that he was telling the truth. “Who is this woman?”

  “I have no idea.” Josh rubbed his face. “Who else would set me up like this? What kind of a sick prank…”

  “How do you know it’s a prank?”

  “She said she was a virgin, but I don’t buy it.”

  “Why not?”

  Because Josh couldn’t figure out what the hell else she could be. Because he couldn’t figure out what the hell she was, period. It had to be a prank. She couldn’t be for real. “For one thing, she’s twenty-nine.”

  Adam burst out in a short bark of surprised laughter. “Get out!” He quickly headed back to the bar to peer into the darkened room, but Josh stopped him.

  “I’m not kidding. Not that she looks it, or anything, but I get the feeling she would have yanked out her driver’s license if I had asked her to.”

  Adam squinted at him. “So why do you think she’s lying about being a virgin?”

  Her kiss. His bloodstream was carbonated, and his body was on fire. No virgin could kiss like that.

  He tried to focus on more tangible evidence. “Well, for another thing, she was insistent—she wanted to lose her virginity tonight. Like it was some sort of mission, or something. That’s where the whole ‘sure thing’ came in.”

  And didn’t that comment still sting?