Lost In A Stallion's Arms. Deborah Fletcher Mello
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“There are boys and young men here who don’t have a male figure in their lives to emulate and look up to. The center is always looking for mentors. Have you considered donating your time, as well?”
Luke hesitated, suddenly thrown by her tone and the direction the conversation had taken. “Well, I—” Luke started.
Joanne interjected before he could finish his thought. “I didn’t think so. Money is always the answer for you, isn’t it? As long as you can pay for it, then the problem is solved, right?” she said. Her tone was cutting.
Luke bristled. “No, not at all. I have no problems doing what I can when I can.”
Joanne nodded, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m sure. And please, I’m really not trying to be critical. It’s just that I’ve met your type before.”
Luke eyed her curiously, leaning forward in his seat. “And just what is my type?”
“Wealthy men who think flashing that wealth absolves them of any personal responsibility to the social ills that plague our society. Men more concerned with their bank accounts than with their neighbor.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Give me a break. Wealth by no means absolves any of us from anything. Yes, I have money and my financial security enables me to do things other people can’t do. But since it is my money to spend as I see fit, then there should only be a problem with that if what I am spending my money on is doing other people more harm than good. And even then that’s debatable.”
“What about getting your hands dirty every now and then? What about getting down in the trenches and working with the poor and underprivileged one-on-one? Have you ever thought about doing that?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. I have volunteered many times before, Ms. Lake, as time and opportunity have allowed me to. But since you don’t know me, you wouldn’t know that, would you? And for a woman who’s not trying to be critical, you’re sure doing one heck of a job. You’re also passing judgment without being informed.” Luke crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his seat as he continued to stare her down.
A flash of something Joanne didn’t recognize gripped her nerves, a wealth of emotion rising without warning. The man was eyeing her so intensely that it felt like he could see straight through her. She felt exposed and vulnerable, and she didn’t like it one bit.
She took a deep breath, fighting to collect her thoughts. “My apologies,” she said finally, contrition filling her face, “and perhaps I was, but I’ve encountered too many wealthy people who care right up until the check clears the bank, and then they forget all about the people they were supposed to be helping until the next time they need a tax deduction. Children can go hungry between those deposits.”
She paused, her gaze locking with his. “So now that you’ve written your check, Mr. Stallion, what next? What will the children and their families have to look forward to after you and your money sweep in to make the neighborhood a better place for all the poor people and then you disappear? Because that’s how this is going to work, isn’t it? You’ve written your check and now you’re going to disappear?”
Luke took a deep inhale of air, filling his lungs and blowing it slowly past his full lips. He pushed himself up and out of his seat, leaning over the desk on his forearms, his eyes meeting hers evenly. He smiled deeply, the gesture pocketing full dimples in his dark cheeks. “Joanne Lake, I’m not going anywhere, so you can take my check, and that promise, straight to the bank.”
Chapter 5
“You like this man!”
Joanne groaned loudly as her best friend, Marley Brooks, hovered above her.
Marley stood with her hands on her narrow hips, her braided extensions swaying against her shoulders. “You like this man and so you went right on the attack. Now what kind of sense did that make?”
“I did not attack him!” Joanne exclaimed, dropping her head back to the tabletop and banging her forehead against it. “I can’t believe that I attacked him like that!”
Joanne was suddenly rattled. It galled her to admit that her friend was right. The entire time she’d been in the man’s company all she could think about was kissing him. His full lips had been inviting, begging her to meet his mouth with her own, and even in their disagreement, Joanne hadn’t been able to contain the rise of desire that had consumed her. The only way she knew to rid herself of her wanting had been to pretend he wasn’t a man she could imagine herself being with. All she could think to do was to attack the one thing about him that she knew the two had in common—their wealth.
Marley laughed, her gaze moving to the man standing behind the counter of the coffee shop. “Rick, we need two caramel frappucinos with extra caramel, please.”
The man named Rick nodded his head, giving her a thumbs-up as Marley dropped down into the seat beside her friend.
“So, is he as cute as I’ve heard?” she asked excitedly.
Joanne groaned again. “Cuter,” she said, still not bothering to look up. “And I made a complete idiot out of myself.”
Marley shrugged. “You always do. Why do you always have a problem with the rich boys? We both know you’re not looking for any unemployed Joe still living with his mother.”
Joanne sat herself upright, meeting the other woman’s gaze. “You say that like all I do is judge a man by how much money he makes.”
“If the shoe fits…”
Joanne rolled her eyes skyward. “Oh, please…”
Their conversation was interrupted as Rick dropped the two iced drinks onto the table in front of them. He paused, giving Marley an annoyed look. Marley gave him one back.
“I swear, Rick, just give me five more minutes. I do get a break!”
Grunting his response, Rick moved back to his station, his attention drawn to a customer in need of a coffee fix.
Marley leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “So, what happened next?”
“Nothing. He stood up, put his papers back into his briefcase, winked at me and walked out of the room.”
“So, do you think he’ll really come back?”
Joanne nodded. “Before I left they told me that he’d been put on the volunteer schedule for the next three weeks. I’ll see him again tomorrow.”
“Sounds like boyfriend might like you back,” Marley said with a soft giggle.
“It’s not like that. He’s just volunteering.”
“You kill me. One minute you want him volunteering and then when he does, you sound like it’s the end of the world.”
“Oh, like he’s a guy I really want to see after he called me judgmental.”
“And you telling him his giving spirit wasn’t really so giving might not make him want to jump your bones anytime soon, either.”
“What