Ridden (Scandalous Moves Book 3) Read online

  Ridden

  Scandalous Moves Series

  Deborah Grace Staley

  Contents

  Title Page

  About the Author

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Acknowledgments

  Read an Excerpt from Exposed

  Also by Deborah Grace Staley

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Deborah Grace Staley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design: Fiona Jayde Media

  Editors: Becky Guyton and Eli Harlan

  Marketing Consultant: Janene Cates Putman

  Created with Vellum

  Ridden

  Bad boys are her weakness...

  Maddie Greene gave into that particular weakness when she was a teenager with devastating results. But she’s not that girl anymore. She’s a mature, successful businesswoman who dates polished businessmen, but never gets attached. Twenty years after leaving, Maddie has to return to her hometown to sale her grandmother’s home. Here, she’ll come face-to-face with a bad boy she can’t resist along with the demons from her past.

  He’s a bad boy who doesn’t let anyone get close.

  A.J. Johnson was the All-American boy next door. He had it all—looks, star high school athlete, and scholarships to the best schools. He fulfilled his promise and became a hometown success story, but tragedy struck and everything changed. Back home, he’s nothing like the guy everyone remembers. He’s a brooding, tattooed biker who spends most of his time alone. But when the high school girl of every boy’s dreams comes back to town, he shows her just how good a bad boy can make her feel.

  Can what starts out as a Scandalous Move help two people face the pain of their pasts so they can begin to heal together?

  PRAISE FOR THE SCANDALOUS MOVES SERIES

  “A treat for lovers of steamy romance.”

  “All I can say is if you thought fifty shades of whatever was even bearable, treat yourself to some superbly written prose.”

  “The best part of the book is that while it's definitely steamy with lots of intense scenes, the story has depth and the characters are people you would want to know in real life.”

  “I always enjoy a good sit-down with a Deborah Grace Staley story -- she's has a real knack for writing affecting plots with engaging characters and satisfying resolutions. She's a very confident and technically assured writer who knows exactly what she wants to wring out of a romance novel. “

  “The background of both characters made each of them come to life in this heated romance that reminds us why we love our feminine side. “

  “It was amazing, awesome, emotional, sexy - it was perfect! I REALLY loved this story.”

  “A modern woman who can have a great career and great relationship.”

  About the Author

  Deborah Grace Staley is an Amazon and Barnes & Noble best selling author and winner of the HOLT Medallion. Her novels have been published worldwide. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing and teaches college writing and literature. Originally from East Tennessee, she now lives in South Florida with her husband and two adorable rescued dachshunds. She loves to connect with readers on Facebook and Twitter. Please be sure to sign up for her NEWSLETTER for all the latest news on new releases and fun giveaways. You’ll receive a free gift just for signing up!

  Contact Information

  www.deborahgracestaley.com

  [email protected]

  This book is dedicated to Janene Cates Putman who reinvented her life at 40 and found her happily ever after with the cowboy of her dreams.

  Introduction

  Have you ever done something daring that forced you to step outside your comfort zone? That’s the concept behind my new series, Scandalous Moves. In each of these longer novellas, you’ll see strong, driven women do something out of character that shakes things up in their carefully controlled lives. Through the upheaval, they’ll learn that some chances are worth taking because they’ll realize a life well-lived consists of possibilities and grand adventures. Even though there are sometimes failures, that just makes the successes all the more sweet.

  Scandalous Moves is a FLAME (Sexy) contemporary series not recommended for readers under eighteen or those who blush easily! But if you like your romance novels with sexy heroes and scorching hot sex scenes, read on! If you have a preference for more TAME (Sweet) romances, I have something for you, too. Check out my award-winning and best selling Angel Ridge Series and my short stories (see links to purchase on the “Also By . . .” page).

  Maybe you’ve made some Scandalous Moves of your own. Share your stories on Facebook and Twitter using #Scandalous, and be sure to tag me @debgstaley.

  Happy reading!

  —Deborah Grace Staley

  1

  Madeline Greene stood in her Manhattan penthouse apartment sipping a glass of merlot, looking out at the city lights. She glanced at the modern Tiffany clock on the fireplace mantle. It read 9:35, and she’d only been home from work half an hour.

  She moved away from the windows to refill her wine glass and pushed the day’s mail out of a neat pile so she could see if she’d gotten anything other than junk to be discarded. A thick envelope bearing the name of an attorney in New Jersey caught her eye. She set her glass aside and picked up the envelope. Why would an attorney be contacting her?

  Madeline opened the envelope and scanned the contents: a letter and a deed. She read the letter and picked up the phone to call her mother. Voicemail came on, so she hung up.

  “Dammit, Mother. Wait . . .” Her mother’s handwriting on an envelope in the pile of mail caught her eye. Madeline ripped open the ivory envelope, pulled out the folded paper, and read. She hadn’t had time to deal with Madeline’s grandmother’s estate, so she’d asked the attorney who’d handled the estate to transfer the property to Madeline.

  “Why would you do that?” Madeline said to the empty room. Madeline picked up her wine glass and walked back into the living room. “I’m too busy to deal with this,” she added. But as she said the words, she acknowledged that with Dixon away at college now, she’d had more time on her hands.

  “Do whatever you want with it,” the letter read. “But I assumed you would want to keep it since you always preferred it to your own home.”

  That at least was true. She’d practically lived with her grandmom in the summer because she’d loved everything about being on the river: swimming, sunbathing, paddling, the kids her own age who’d always been around. But she wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was a mother and business owner who didn’t have time to fritter away on the weekends. Even with her children away at college, her calendar was filled with business dinners, charity events, and board meetings. As she thought about her commitments, something inside her screamed for a break. The seren
ity of the home she’d loved as a child called to her.

  “If you decide to sell it,” her mother continued, “you’d make a tidy profit if you fixed it up a bit. I’m afraid it’s been neglected since Mother passed, and she hadn’t updated it in years.”

  Of course her parents wouldn’t have seen to the home’s upkeep. Madeline should have intervened sooner. She loved the place, but not all the memories there had been good. The summer after her high school graduation, Madeline had gone through a rebellious period. She’d always been the perfect daughter who made straight A’s, was cheer captain, and homecoming queen. She’d had scholarship offers to all the best schools, but that summer, all she’d wanted was Billy Ray Carter. Unlike most boys, Billy Ray hadn’t tried to go about dating her the proper way. He’d hidden out in odd places around school, had dragged her behind bleachers and into darkened closets to kiss and feel her up. And she’d liked it. So much so that they’d spent more than a few nights in Grandmom’s boathouse that summer. Madeline had gotten pregnant, and instead of going to college that fall, she’d gotten married at the courthouse and had a baby.

  The letter concluded with a note that her parents would be away on a month-long safari and unreachable. But they planned to be home in time for Christmas.

  “Lovely,” Madeline said, and tossed the letter aside. Truthfully, the quiet of the apartment pressed in on her, and a restlessness she hadn’t felt in years had her on edge.

  The lights of the city twinkled across the New York skyline—a sight that she normally loved. They reminded her of all she’d achieved. She was the Founder and CEO of a successful financial firm that was run by women and exclusively catered to women. Helping women be financially independent was fulfilling. In fact, she’d succeeded beyond anything she’d ever imagined. She loved her life, but today as she’d walked through the city crowded with pedestrians and tourists, she’d longed for open spaces and the sights and smells of autumn.

  A drive to Hidden Harbor might be just the thing, then. The Delaware River with the leaves turning was a spectacular sight. The preparations for the Apple Festival would be in full swing. She still got a letter every year asking her to judge the Apple Festival Queen pageant—a crown she’d worn as an eighteen-year-old, a lifetime ago. The one before she’d married Billy Ray and lived through his abuse. Why should she go back to the place where she’d spent the worst years of her life?

  She dropped into an armchair by the fire and stared at the flames. She’d done everything she’d set out to: had gotten her education, started a business, built it into a success, and raised two exceptional children. Still, she couldn’t help feeling she was at some sort of crossroad marked, “What’s next?” Truthfully, the business ran itself, and more and more, she felt more like a figurehead than a CEO.

  She wasn’t the same person she’d been when she’d left Hidden Harbor. Far from it. She was stronger. Why shouldn’t she go back?

  The next morning, Madeline paced her apartment. She had a business meeting today in Newark. The car would be here any minute to pick her up. Hidden Harbor was only about an hour and a half away. If she drove herself, she could go to her meeting, continue to Hidden Harbor, check out her grandmom’s—her, she corrected—house, and be back home before rush hour traffic hit. Trouble was, she hadn’t driven in something like ten years. But how hard could it be? Could a person really forget how to drive? Her driver took her car out periodically and kept up with the routine maintenance. She should have sold it years ago, but now she was glad she hadn’t.

  With a smile on her lips, she picked up her cell and texted her driver to let him know she’d be driving herself today. After she pressed Send, she let out a breath, then looked down at her clothes. She’d chosen an elegant, conservative, black wool suit with a white satin blouse. Black Jimmy Choo pumps might be impractical for driving, but she could slip them off. Yes. She could do this.

  Her decision made, she gathered her coat, purse, and grabbed the extra keys from the foyer table. She exited the elevator in the parking garage and had a moment’s hesitation. Where the hell was the car parked?

  At three in the afternoon, Madeline passed the Hidden Harbor city limits sign. She’d gotten lost this morning because of construction road closures. The GPS in her car hadn’t been updated in some time. She’d have to speak with her driver about that. She’d been late to her appointment, which had gone longer than expected, so she’d turned the meeting into a brunch in apology for being late.

  Getting out of Newark had been easier than getting out of Manhattan, thank God. However, she was not looking forward to driving back into the city at night.

  She heard a popping noise immediately followed by a lower rumble coming from the rear of the car, which suddenly became hard to steer. A light on the dash began flashing. The readout said, “Rear tire.”

  “Great,” she mumbled and pulled off to the side of the road. She slipped on her shoes before getting out to investigate. Cars whizzed past her on the highway. When it looked clear, she walked to the rear of the car. No need for a close investigation. The tire was flat. Maddie retrieved her cell from her purse at the passenger side of the car. She pushed the button to wake it, but the screen remained black. Had she even powered it on this morning? She tried that next. No luck. She must have forgotten to charge it last night.

  After reading the letter from her mother, she’d spent half the night trying to decide about coming to Hidden Harbor and also having a closer examination of those demons she’d been avoiding for years. As usual thinking of the principal demon—her ex—gave her a mostly sleepless night.

  This morning, she’d worked up her courage to at least drive into Hidden Harbor, look around, and leave. And now, here she was, stuck on the side of the road in a designer suit and four-inch heels with a dead cell and no idea how to change a tire. Flagging down help didn’t appeal, but what other choice did she have?

  She walked back to the rear of the car and shaded her eyes to look at oncoming traffic. Everything inside her screamed that this was a very bad idea. Maybe she should walk to a call box for roadside assistance. Would there be one out here?

  While she debated her options, a motorcyclist pulled off the highway and rumbled to a noisy stop behind her car. The rider was big and built, wearing a black leather jacket, jeans, and biker boots with chunky soles. He killed the engine and swung his leg over the big, powerful machine, then removed his helmet, but left his mirrored sunglasses on.

  She noted his head was shaved and as he approached, she noted he was tall—well over six feet. Broad shoulders and muscular thighs encased in tight denim and a badass attitude dripping off him. Awareness shivered through Madeline. Bad boys were a weakness for her. That’s why she dated suits now—lawyers, accountants, stockbrokers, and the like, who were safe, easy to control and drop when the time came. Nothing about this man looked safe. In fact, trouble of the most delicious sort would be his forte. Add to that, it had been a while since her last partner. Too long.

  “Hi,” he said when he stood in front of her.

  Still shading her eyes, she looked up, way up, taking in his very nice physique on the way. “Hi.”

  He glanced over at her tire then back at her. “Looks like you need some help.”

  Madeline smiled even though she detested being thrust into the role of helpless female. “Yes,” she said. “I was going to call someone, but my cell is dead.”

  “No car charger?” he asked.

  She shook her head. She never drove, so why would she need one?

  “I’d be happy to put your spare on,” he offered, as he hooked a thumb in the back pocket of his jeans.

  “Thank you,” she said. “But if I could just use your cell, I’ll call someone.”

  “Don’t have one,” he replied.

  No cell? Who didn’t have a cell these days? “Oh, well, I hate to trouble you.”

  “It’s no trouble, Maddie.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket and handed it to her, then walked around to t
he driver’s side to find the trunk release.

  No one had called her Maddie in a very long time. She stood there, speechless, holding his jacket, still warm from his body and scented with a mix of musky cologne, leather, and him. The trunk popped and he rejoined her. “Do I know you?” she asked.

  He grinned and lifted the trunk lid. “You used to. It’s been a while.”

  “I’m sorry,” Madeline said. “I—”

  “We went to high school together.” He bent to disengage the spare and gave her a nice view of his ass. Since she couldn’t have helped herself if she’d wanted to—which she didn’t—she indulged in a nice, long look.

  He straightened and dropped the spare to the asphalt. It probably should have bounced, but instead it made a plopping noise because it was flat as well. “Oh, no,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “That’s not going to work,” and tossed it back into her trunk.

  His gray t-shirt stretched taught across his shoulders and chest, but hung loose over his flat stomach. The print on the shirt said, “The road will set you free.” The design was of a wheel with wings. A linear, black-ink tattoo peaked out from his sleeve and curved over his thick bicep.

  She tried to focus on his face, but she couldn’t tell much with the dark sunglasses. He had a strong jaw and kissable lips. Madeline shook her head and tried to focus. “Did you say we went to school together?”