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SASSY REBEL
This
book contains graphic language
and adult sexual situations.
Beautiful, sexy heiress, Bayo
St.Claire, suffers a rude
awakening when she discovers her
fiancée is having an affaire.
However, an unexpected encounter
with ex-navy seal, and former
CIA agent, Daire Holland, hints
at an even darker secret. A
powerful spark is lit and Bayo
finds herself in a daze of
sexual enthrallment when Daire
sets out to wipe the memory of
betrayal from her mind and body
forever. CHAPTER ONE She entered the room laughing as she tucked her cell phone into her bag. Daire Holland, silently watching from the shadows of the patio, came alert at the rich sound of her laughter. Another player enters the stage. Through the open French doors, he observed the stir she made among the moneyed throng crowding the glittering ballroom. The twin bouquets of expensive perfumes and hothouse flowers thickened the air in the overheated space. Uniformed wait-staff wove skillfully in and out between the elegantly gowned, diamond draped women and tuxedoed men, offering stemmed glasses of Champaign and dainty canapés. The newcomer was greeted on all sides with smiles, and kisses blown in her direction. She was obviously a favorite with the elite set gathered here tonight. Music from the twenty-piece orchestra rose and swelled around her as she wove her way through the crowd to the open bar set up just to the left of the patio doors. “Bayo, darling.” Their hostess, Madeline St. Claire greeted the younger woman effusively from across the room. Her rather shrill falsetto carried easily out into the warm night as she cruised toward her goal like a taffeta draped frigate under full sail. The crowd parted before her like the red sea. Taking both the younger woman’s outstretched hands, Madeline drew Bayo against her ample bosom for a motherly hug, planting noisy kisses on both her cheeks. “Where have you been keeping yourself child? I was afraid you weren’t coming.” “You know I would never miss one of your do’s Aunt Maddy. Too many interesting people to meet,” she laughed, blowing airy kisses in the direction of Madeline’s rouged cheeks. “Who are you saving this week and how much is it going to cost me?” The new data shifted into place for Daire. This stunner was the youngest female St. Claire, thirty-two year old daughter of Madeline’s older brother Samuel, scion of the St. Claire clan and undisputed king of the St. Claire shipping empire. Ms. Bayo St. Claire was born to wealth and class. Talk about silver spoons! However, the report from C.O.R.E., the clandestine organization he worked for, said she was a travel writer and photographer. Her work appeared regularly in Travel and Leisure, and several other prestigious magazines. She really couldn’t get those gigs riding on her father’s coat tails, so she must be good. She certainly looked good enough to eat, he mused ruefully, a faint smile curling up the corners of his mouth. She would always stand out, with that angel’s face, harlot’s mouth, and head of glossy, copper curls that looked like they had just been tousled by a lover’s hands. But it was something more that brought his cock to attention. She had an earthy sensuality and vivaciousness about her that radiated all the way out to where Daire stood sheltered by the high stone wall and trailing frangipani. The French might call it joie de vivre. He called it raging sex appeal. He suspected she would be wild in bed. It didn’t hurt that she had a killer body to go with that gorgeous face. The slinky red dress she wore was slit up the left side exposing a long length of shapely thigh and the scooped neck revealed the twin swells of full, suntanned breasts that begged to be kissed. Daire felt his cock lengthen and swell just looking at her. He would like to lick every inch of that sleek flesh and see just how wet he could make her. Keeping his mind on the task of using her fiancée to reel in the king pin of the drug cartel the guy was working for could be a little tough with that temptation in the vicinity. Several other guests clustered around the beauty, vying for her attention, among them the object of his investigation, Mark Delaney. Mark was a serious coffee importer and as such had contacts in a dozen countries. His dealings in Guatemala were the reason Daire found himself at Madeline St. Claire’s rather exclusive fundraiser and privy to all the personal information both public and private, regarding the St. Claire family and fortunes. “Bayo, Sweetheart, I’ve missed you?” Mark greeted the smiling woman. Stepping forward through the throng, he reached to take Bayo’s arm. Bayo’s smile faltered for just a second, and Daire was certain she was evading Mark’s reaching hand by moving to step around her Aunt. “How truly unbelievable,” Bayo said. Her brow creased and her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something unpleasant. “I didn’t expect you would have the poor taste to show up here tonight. But apparently your lack of judgement knows no bounds.” What the hell was going on with these two? Delaney and Bayo St. Claire were engaged according to his sources. Looked like real trouble in Paradise. Even from where he stood, just beyond the light spilling out onto the Spanish tiles, he could see the hard gleam of anger in the beauty’s amber eyes. “Bayo, we’ve got to talk. I can explain.” “I don’t think so. Someone else’s panties in your glove compartment don’t really need an explanation.” She turned away in patent dismissal and moved to greet the two elderly ladies that stood at her aunt’s elbow. “Miss Nancy, Miss Helen, how are you? It’s lovely to see both of you again. Has Aunt Maddy emptied your pockets yet?” “Oh, Bayo dear, you know we love giving our money to Madeline. She gives such grand parties and knows all the best causes. And our pockets are quite deep, you know.” With a sly wink Nancy Lawrence turned to her companion. “Isn’t that right, Helen?” The slow twang of her southern drawl made Daire smile. You could take the lady out of the south, but you couldn’t take the south out of the lady. He thought it was charming that Bayo addressed them both as Miss in the age-old tradition of the South. “Gracious yes, we would grow quite bored without our Madeline to keep us hopping. Why, just last month we were in Guatemala handing out birth control pills and instructing young women in proper personal hygiene.” Miss. Helen signed and shook her head. “You would be appalled my dear, at the conditions in some of these places. We wish we could do more. It seems there is no end to the need surrounding us.” “I know your generosity is very much appreciated and it’s wonderful that you take such a personal interest as well as donating tons of money,” Bayo said, giving Helen’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You two are Aunt Maddy’s favorite benefactors. I’ll come back to you shortly and you can tell me all about your adventures.” Bayo bent to give each petite, blue-haired lady a hug and turned to speak to another group of acquaintances. Daire came to full attention at the mention of Guatemala. He had dossiers on everyone who had an invitation to tonight’s event, but it was news to him that Mrs. Helen Spencer and Mrs. Nancy Lawrence, wealthy widows and former bells of Atlanta society had gone traipsing down to Guatemala on a mission of mercy. He would have to speak to C.O.R.E. about this serious lapse in his information. C.O.R.E., the counter-espionage agency he secretly worked for, rarely missed any vital piece of information. They employed an elite network of information gathering undercover agents that spanned the globe. Reports were updated daily, hourly if needed, and the information forwarded to him via satellite link directly to his office at Guardmark Security. He would have to check on the missing detail of the ladies recent trip when he returned to his office later tonight. He wouldn’t put it past Mark Delaney to use these unsuspecting elderly ladies in the pursuit of his nefarious schemes. They would make a perfect cover for his illegal activities. Who would suspect such innocent and earnest faces? He doubted if they were ever asked to open their carry-ons, much less had their luggage searched. “Bayo, we really must talk. Come outside with me.” Mark pleaded, coming up beside her and latching onto her hand. He mumbled an excuse to the man and woman she was talking to, and strode toward the French doors, towing her behind. “Stop dragging me, for God’s sake. I’m coming.” Bayo said, snatching her hand out of his. She marched through the French doors and out onto the patio. Turning, she faced him with her arms crossed over her chest, and her chin thrust out. “I can’t imagine what you want to talk about. As far as I’m concerned it’s over. You are a lying, two-timing bastard and there is nothing to discuss.” Daire eased further back into the shadows. The couple stood so close he could smell the heavy cologne Mark wore and the lighter fresher scent of the woman. He wondered then, what Bayo would smell like when he spread those beautiful legs for a taste. He imagined she would smell of spice and taste of honey. “Please, Bayo, I can explain. I love you. I want to marry you. Surely, you can give me another chance. It was a momentary lapse. It meant nothing. You were gone. I was lonely. Call it a last fling,” he pleaded. “You have got to be kidding. You were boinking that stewardess the whole time I was in Cancun on assignment and now it’s a last fling and you love me! Does the overly implanted Vivian know this?” Daire saw the color drain from Marks face at this pronouncement. Even the pale light of the full moon, couldn’t disguise his shock. Apparently, the evidence in the glove box wasn’t all the ammunition Bayo had in her arsenal. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Lord, he would love to go a few rounds with this woman, but he would hate to be on the receiving end of her anger. This poor bastard didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of winning her over and didn’t seem to realize it or he was just too desperate to give up. He imagined Mark would be in serious shit if his drug running associates discovered he had blown his connection to the St. Clair shipping lines. Daire took another step back, moving behind the thick fronds of a potted palm, hoping the combatants were too occupied with their quarrel to notice him. He had no desire to be discovered lurking in the dark. “Come on Bayo, you know how good we are together. You don’t want to throw that away.” Mark grabbed Bayo around the waist with one arm and crushed her against him. Before she could stop him he had his mouth clamped over hers in a grinding kiss and was groping her breast with his other hand. Bayo beat at him with her fists and kicked his shins, but he only held her tighter. Daire wondered if Delaney was usually successful with this technique because he was failing miserably tonight. However, Mark didn’t seem to be getting the message, despite Bayo’s angry struggles. Daire was reluctant to step in. He hoped to meet Mr. Delaney on a more congenial note to see what he could find out before the man knew who he was. He hated to show his hand this soon, but neither would he allow Miss. St Claire to suffer any real hurt. Bayo wrenched her mouth free at last and hit Mark a resounding slap across his face. “Let go you miserable bastard. Have you lost your mind?” “You never used mind.” Mark was panting now and still holding her around the waist. He had abandoned her breast, trying to ward off another slap. “You know you like it. Don’t pretend you don’t. You always want it.” Mark ran his hand up her leg and grabbed her crotch. “How about if I give you a little right now?” “Mark, stop. Please, stop now. You’re hurting me.” Bayo, breathless, clawed at the hand between her legs, pushing with all her might against his chest with her other hand. Well, hell. That tears it. Daire stepped around the palm in a rush and taking a handful of Mark’s jacket, yanked him backward with such force, he released Bayo in stunned surprise. “The lady seems to be unwilling. Perhaps you should desist.” *** Two pairs of startled eyes turned to the speaker who still held a dumbfounded Mark by the back of his jacket. Good God, the man was a giant, at least six foot four and broad as a house. Bayo wondered insanely where he had his tux made, probably London. Jet-black hair, a little too long, curled at his collar and a tiny diamond winked in his left ear. There was an inch long scar on his right cheekbone adding to his untamed look. Dark blue eyes flashed, a full sensual mouth curved in an outrageously sexy smile as he looked at her. Was she being rescued by a Saville Row pirate? She felt suddenly hot all over. Something about the intensity of those blue eyes and all that power made her juices flow. She couldn’t take her eyes off the man. Perhaps it was time to reconsider the appeal of brawn. Mark found his voice finally, but it came out in a squawk. “Let go of me you stupid fuck. This is none of your affaire. Do you know who I am? I’ll have you thrown out of here on your ass.” He tried to reach around, grabbing at his assailant’s arm, but since he was being held up on his toes he couldn’t get any leverage. Bayo glanced at Mark and then back at the pirate. Midnight blue eyes held hers for a long moment and then one dark brow lifted in question. She felt a sizzling shiver in the pit of her stomach. Those eyes were all too knowing. She hated that he had seen her being mauled. It was so tacky. “Let him go. I’m sure he’s come to his senses.” “Do you really think so? From what I observed, I wouldn’t think there was much chance of that happening,” the pirate-in-a-tux replied. Bayo laughed in spite of herself. His husky baritone vibrated all the way down to her toes. “You might have a point, but you can’t stand there holding him all night.” “Well, I could, but would I want to?” He looked at Mark and seemed to consider what to do with him. “Are you ready to behave?” “Yeah, okay, just let go of my coat for fuck sake.” “You really should watch your mouth. There’s a lady present.” The man gave Mark a last shake for emphasis and let him go. The minute Mark’s heels hit the tiles his fist shot out toward her rescuer’s chin and he lifted his left foot aiming for the big man’s solar plexus. The pirate blocked the punch and the kick in defensive moves almost to fast for Bayo to follow. Obviously, this guy was trained in martial arts, reminding her of Steven Segal, her favorite action hero. Only this was up close and definitely personal. The next thing she knew Mark was on his knees and the pirate had the fingers of Mark’s right hand bent back at a very painful looking angle. “This is getting tiresome. Do you have a learning disability?” the stranger asked, bending down to peer at Mark questioningly. When Mark didn’t answer right away the man flexed his wrist and bent Mark’s captured fingers back another quarter inch. Mark yelped in pain. “No, no I don’t have a learning disability.” He wiped sweat out of his eyes with his free hand his voice edging toward a whine. “I get the point. I apologize to the lady.” “Oh good, now we can all be friends.” Reversing his grip, the man helped Mark to his feet and gently began to straighten his coat. Mark shoved the helping hands aside. “I don’t need any more friends. I’m calling security and having you thrown out of here.” “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I am security.” “What! Madeline always uses First Alert Systems. I recommended them myself. Why would she call you? And who the hell are you anyway?” “Daire Holland, at your service.” He made a little bow in Bayo’s direction. Reaching into the inside pocket of his tux he produced a pale gray, embossed card and handed it to Mark. Bayo craned her neck over Mark’s shoulder to see the card, being careful not to touch him. The card said, Guardmark Security Consultants in bold black type, under that Daire Holland, Chief Consultant, then the contact numbers. That might explain the martial arts training, but she thought there was more to this guy than what could be inferred from his business card. No security guard she had ever met exuded this kind of controlled power, or looked this gorgeous, nor had she ever been instantly attracted to any of them. “I don’t understand why Madeline would suddenly change security firms. There’s nothing wrong with First Alert.” “You will have to take that up with her. Perhaps she just wanted a fresh eye. Sometimes vigilance can slack off when the job becomes routine.” “We’ll just see about this. I intend to speak to Madeline right now.” Mark turned and marched back into the ballroom, without even a backward glance at Bayo. The chief consultant from Guardmark watched Mark walk away. He seemed to be deep in thought. Bayo turned from her own puzzled contemplation of Mark’s defection. “He can be a lot of fun. Really.” “The mind boggles.” Bayo let out a shaky laugh. “Okay, okay, the guy’s a jerk. I just never noticed how big a jerk. I travel a lot,” she finished lamely. Jeez, if she kept babbling like and idiot he would think she was mentally challenged, too. She lifted a trembling hand to push a few errant curls off her forehead. Suddenly she felt all jittery inside and reached out to steady herself against the brickwork. Daire stepped closer. Putting his hand under her chin he lifted her face and turned it to the light. “Did he hurt you? Your lip looks bruised.” He ran the pad of his thumb lightly over her lower lip causing her pussy to clinch in response. He focused on her trembling mouth for a moment then raised his eyes to look into hers. Bayo could almost see the electricity building between them. She knew her panties were soaked already. His face so close, was an intensely masculine visage. His jaw was a hard angle, his nose a fierce blade, his mouth was full lipped and tempting. The bulk of him seemed to surround her, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the ballroom behind them. The sheer masculine force of him nearly overwhelmed her senses. Bayo felt a pool of heat replace the jitters in her belly. The liquid fire spread through her stomach and up her torso to her breasts. Her nipples tightened. She stood motionless, feeling the flush flow up her neck reaching her face. Staring up into Dare’s eyes, she saw the moment when his solicitude turned to desire. A spark of what looked like raw lust flared briefly in the midnight depths. She licked her lips. His mouth closed over hers in a kiss so surprisingly sweet her instinctive defenses melted like butter on a hot stove. Her lips parted of their own accord, inviting him in. His tongue laved the inside of her mouth urging her to deeper indulgences. He pulled her closer. This was crazy, but oh my, it felt so good. How could something this bizarre feel so damned right? She should make him stop, but she hated to end this sweet torment. Her hands reached for the front of his jacket to push him away, but somehow ended up around his neck pulling him in for full body contact. The unexpected heat and size of his erection burned through the silk of her dress directly into her belly. She heard herself moan and knew she had to end this craziness. She pulled away and he released her instantly, stepping back. Cool air replaced his heat and she felt the loss. He stared down at her keenly for an endless minute, his only movement a muscle that twitched in his left cheek. His eyes seemed to search inside her soul. Bayo tried to swallow and realized she needed to breathe. Suddenly he smiled, and the tension evaporated. “Forgive me Miss. St.Claire, all this moonlight and excitement must have gone to my head.” He fished another business card out of his pocket along with a pen, and scribbled something on the back of the card. “Please let me know if Mr. Delaney gives you any more trouble. My cell phone number is on the back.” With a parting smile, he turned and left her standing in the dappled shadows.
Bayo touched two fingers to
her swollen lips. This was getting to be a
habit. Assaulted and abandoned by two men
in one night. A slow smile curved her lips
as she watched Daire Holland make his way
across the ballroom. Well…at least one of
them wasn’t going to get away with it.
Buy this book from Venus Press
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Sassy
was raised outside of Owensboro,
Kentucky on a half-acre of land,
onto which was crammed enough
critters for a small farm. Two
horses, numerous cats and dogs,
chickens, ducks, rabbits, an
aviary full of different kinds
of birds, a goat and a burro
shared space with an occasional
hog or goose given to her
physician father as payment for
services rendered.
DARINGLY
DANGEROUS, Book 1: HOLLAND DAZE 
