Untamed: (Heath & Violet) (Beg For It) (38 page)

“Yes, I think that
would do nicely for Colt,” said Gram, deciding the matter. “Now
you two come find me later.” She smiled at us, and before she
turned her attention to other partygoers, I could have sworn she
looked at Heath and gave him a sly wink. What did the two of them
have up their sleeves?

Heath linked his arm
through mine and began leading me through the crowd at a leisurely
pace. “So now you know,” he confessed. “This whole thing
between us was a set up. My grandmother declared last year it must
happen, and so it did.”

I laughed. “I can’t
believe your grandmother is magic, on top of everything else!”

“Pretty amazing.”
He nodded in agreement.

“Seriously, though.
Last year at this same party, she told you you needed to get a woman
in your life?”

“She did.”

“What did you say?”
I laughed, imagining gruff Heath getting a directive like that.

“I told her she was
crazy,” he admitted, chuckling. Stroking his jaw, he reflected,
“though now I have to admit. My new motto is ‘listen to your
grandmother.’”

“That’s a great
motto,” I agreed.

“But there’s one
more thing I haven’t done yet.” He paused, and I realized why
he’d taken me over to that corner of the room. It was more quiet,
almost secluded, with a large piece of mistletoe hanging down from a
shiny red ribbon. I smiled at him. He didn’t need mistletoe as an
excuse to kiss me. The man could wrap me in an embrace any time of
day or night. But it was a fun Christmas tradition.

“I’ve fallen in
love with you, Violet.” He took my hands in his and looked at me,
serious and intense. My breath caught in my throat. He’d said it
before and it was always music to my ears, but this time? This time
something seemed different.

He bent down on one
knee. Tears sprang to my eyes as he took something out of his pocket
and held it up to me. A ring, sparkling and gorgeous, twinkling among
all the holiday lights in the ballroom.

“Violet,” he began.
My hands went up over my mouth as I felt myself start crying with
joy. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” I cried out,
sinking down to my knees as well, dress and all. “Yes! Yes!”

He slipped the ring on my finger and
we did that mistletoe proud, kissing each other again as we welcomed
our beautiful future together.

THE
END

Thank you so much for reading
Untamed
!
I hope you loved every page! It’s such fun sharing the story of
Heath and Violet with you.

Want a
FREE
bonus chapter
of Heath and Violet post
Untamed
? Sign up
for my newsletter
here
and/or my Facebook author’s group
Callie’s Corner
here
.

I’ll send the
chapter out on my newsletter and post it on my group’s page. And
you’ll be the first to know about my new releases, sales and other
freebies. I’ve got a whole lot of hotness planned!

First Declan and
Kara kicked off the
Beg for It
series with
Unleashed
.
Then we met Ash and Ana in
Undone
,
and Heath and Violet
Untamed
.
There’s another wild ride ahead of you and his name is Colt. He’s
the CEO of Kavanaugh Industries, in charge of the family’s
billion-dollar fortune. And if you think he likes taking no for an
answer, you’re wrong. Which is why he’s so completely unprepared
to meet Caroline.

Keep reading for a
sneak peek at
Unbelievable (Colt
& Caroline),
to be released June 27th.

Throw together a
billionaire CEO who always gets his way and a feisty environmental
activist set on shutting down his latest real estate development, and
you know there’s going to be sparks.

We all know opposites
attract, but the kind of heat between these two is next level. Only
an unbelievable set of circumstances could let loose a passion this
hot. Like if the two of them got marooned on a breathtakingly
gorgeous, uninhabited tropical island...

That spark? Now it’s a blazing
fire.

NOTE:
Unbelievable
is a standalone hot adult romance. It’s the fourth story in the
Beg
for It
series about the dominant, alpha males in the
Kavanaugh family and the strong, sexy women who make them finally
meet their match.

Colt

She stood there with
her wrists bound up over her head, her full breasts pressed out
against her T-shirt. She looked up at me, defiant, her pouty lips
parted and ready to yell.

When I’d learned that
my latest real estate development project had been targeted by an
angry environmental group, I hadn’t pictured anything like this.
I’d reluctantly agreed to fly out to the site and see if I could
defuse the situation. I didn’t compromise, didn’t like
negotiating, but this group was proving a bigger thorn in my side
than expected. In honor of my visit, the leader of the protests and a
few others had chained themselves to the fence around our
construction site.

It was just dumb luck
that the lead activist turned out to have a body built for sin. And
she’d somehow handcuffed herself in exactly the right way to
showcase her assets. I’d cuffed more than a few playmates in
exactly that position for a night of fun.

Dealing with these
activists might be more enjoyable than I’d thought. Starting with
their leader. I took a step closer, towering over her.

“I’d offer my hand
to say hello,” I said, a wry smile on my lips. My gaze flickered up
to her handcuffed wrists. “But I see you’re all tied up.”

“Save your sweet
talk,” she hissed at me, fire in her eyes.

“You haven’t heard
anything yet,” I warned her, taking another step closer. She had
honey-colored hair, tumbling down her shoulders in loose curls.
Flushed, she struggled a bit against her restraints. I smiled,
enjoying the show. How good of her to play along exactly how I liked.
Now if only we didn’t have a slew of crazy environmental activists
and members of the press surrounding us.

“We don’t want your
hotel here!” she spat out at me.

“It’s not a hotel,”
I corrected her. “It’s a destination resort.”

She rolled her eyes.
“You think you can just come here, buy up our land, and build some
mega-hotel?”

“Resort,” I
corrected her again. “And, yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
I felt a strong urge to stroke a strand of her hair that had worked
its way down and now rested, curling gently along the swell of her
breast.

“Eyes up here,” she
growled at me.

With a grin, I
complied. For now. “It’s not my fault that you handcuffed
yourself for me.”

“I did not handcuff
myself for you!” She stomped her foot. It just made me smirk even
more, seeing her get all agitated. The movement made her breasts
jiggle in the most appealing way. “We are chaining ourselves to
this fence around your proposed construction site in protest!”

“Right, right,” I
soothed her, glancing to the side and noting a few scraggly-looking
hippie types chained to the fence. “What is it you’re angry about
again?” I looked at her lips as I spoke, so full and lush and
plump. Her tongue flicked out, briefly, and my cock hardened in
response.

“The lichen!” some
kooky activist down the fence belted out.

“Yes!” she
answered, seeming to remember herself. “The lichen! Love the
lichen!”

That’s right. My
colleague had explained it to me. Apparently there was some kind of
endangered species of lichen that thrived on the coastal area where
we planned to build. Where we would build. I was Colton Kavanaugh,
CEO of Kavanaugh Industries. I did not take no for an answer.

“Much as I like
seeing you like this…” My gaze flickered down along her
curvaceous body once again. “Why don’t we save the handcuffs for
later? I’ll buy you a drink first. And we can talk through this
whole misunderstanding.”

“You arrogant
bastard!” she spat out, straining against her handcuffs. I fully
enjoyed the sight of her large breasts pressing against her T-shirt.
Until she noticed my appreciation and stilled.

“At least let me
uncuff you. For now.” I smiled down at her. “I promise I’ll tie
you up again later.”

“You can’t uncuff
me!” she declared. “I won’t tell you where the key is!” Her
eyes blazed, defiant.

“Do I have to pat you
down?” I stepped in closer, barely any space between us. “Where
are you hiding it?” I whispered. She shivered, slightly, barely
perceptible. But I could tell I got to her. “You can tell me,” I
murmured. “Is it underneath your foot?” I bent down and stroked
my palm along the base of her calf through her jeans, making a show
of pretending to look under her sneaker.

“You’ll never find
it!” she declared.

“It’s in your bra.”
I nodded, as if sure I’d just figured it out. She gasped as I stood
up and reached out my hand, hovering it directly over her luscious
breasts which now heaved with her rapid breathing. Of course I wasn’t
going to touch her, not in front of all those people and cameras. If
I had her alone, though, that would be another thing entirely. I’d
lock her up and throw away the key.

I was about to step
away when something caught my eye. Right under my palm, my open hand
inches away, teasing her just above her breasts. Her nipple pebbled,
pushing through the thin cotton of her T-shirt. She might protest,
but she felt it, too, the spark between us, the chemistry.

Giving her a low,
wicked smile, I leaned down. Hidden by my large frame, I gave her
nipple the slightest brush as I whispered in her ear, “I think I’m
going to enjoy fighting with you.”

Caroline

Of all the arrogant,
alpha, billionaire CEOs I’d met in my life, he really took the
cake. OK, I hadn’t actually met that many guys like him. In our
sleepy coastal Southern Oregon town, we specialized in hipsters and
hippies. But I’d read and seen movies about arrogant, alpha,
billionaire CEO types like him. Unfortunately, looking up at his
broad shoulders and firmly set jaw, the one who came to mind was
Christian Grey.

Wrong association! This
CEO of Kavanaugh Industries was the enemy, through and through. I
just wasn’t experienced enough at the whole environmental protest
thing. That was the problem.

Here’s a tip for all
you wanna-be activists: when protesting a site by handcuffing
yourself to a fence, keep one hand free. Because if you had your
friend lock both of your wrists together to a chain link fence, then
tuck the key in the back pocket of your jeans, you were really
screwed.

If you had both wrists
tied together above your head then you were at the mercy of any tall,
handsome, devastatingly sexy man who happened to show up and find
you. Then when he looked down at you like the two of you were alone
in his bedroom and you were playing out some kind of naughty BDSM
scene, all you could do was stand there pulling slightly against the
restraints, getting all hot and bothered.

But if you had one hand
free, you could avoid all that and do any number of things instead.
Like slap him hard across the face. Give him the middle finger. Or, I
don’t know, uncuff yourself???

The problem was, I
wasn’t too experienced with the whole protesting thing. Just
between you and me, I’m a baker. I own my own shop, I’m proud to
say. I specialize in scones and muffins and breads, the kinds of
mouthwatering treats that make you laugh in the face of diets.
Gluten-free. That had to be the worst idea on the planet.

But it turned out that
not many people cared when a huge mega-corporation based in New York
City swooped in and decided it wanted to build on the land that my
little bakery happened to be on. I’d been one small, protesting
voice in a large ocean of “sure, that sounds like one heck of a
great money-making idea!”

Until I did some
research and discovered that an endangered species of lichen lived on
the coastal rocks next to the site.

True, when I’d first
happened across the information I’d had to google “lichen” to
make sure I knew exactly what it was. It was the green stuff that
grew on rocks. Turned out, people cared a lot more about that fuzzy
green stuff than a small business bakery. So I’d used the card in
my deck that I could play, contacting environmental organizations
that then alerted the national media and suddenly, we had a real
fight on our hands. The environmental non-profits organizing and
funding our protest still wanted me at the helm, the spokesperson.
They felt I’d be more media-friendly than they would, a more
appealing face for the cause.

I just hoped no one
asked me about lichen. After I got past “it’s endangered” I’d
trail off. My plan was to offer anyone who asked a scone. That was
usually good for ending conversations as people closed their eyes and
blissed out on the tastiness. And if they could still talk, they’d
take things in a new direction, with questions like “what’s in
this?” and “how do you make these?” Those were topics I could
talk about all day.

“Love the lichen!”
a guy down the line yelled. Six of us were chained to the fence. Five
environmental activists—two locals and three imported from national
groups—and me.

“Now where is it?”
Mr. CEO Colton Kavanaugh asked me, teasing, pretending to search me
for the key to unlock my handcuffs. And all I could do was stand
there while his hands caressed my calves. Through my jeans, but I had
to admit, it felt slightly more erotic than having sex with my last
boyfriend. When he stood up and pretended he was going to search me,
pat me down, see if I was hiding the key in my bra, I had all the
wrong reactions.