Excerpt of Mad about the Man by Stella Cameron

Chapter One "Taste it, Jacques, taste it." "Convince me I want to."

Rita laughed and leaned closer. "Let your tongue convince you, darling. We both know what a voluptuary you are."

"Mmm. Voluptuaries enjoy being persuaded." He watched her fingers move - slender, clever fingers practiced in the small nuances of temptation. "Show me how good you are. Make me want what you're offering so badly it hurts."

Her subtle scent reached him - summer roses. Jacques let his eyelids drift down a fraction. Creamy roses. Curving petals that begged to be cupped, just as the velvet fullness of a passionate woman's breasts begged to be cupped by a lover's hands.

Soft breath touched his face. She was very near. "I can make you want this, Jacques. Open your mouth."

"You haven't convinced me."

"But I have aroused your jaded appetites, haven't I? Go with me, Jacques. Let me lead you. Let me seduce you."

"I've always made a better leader than a follower."

Her smile was lazy. "I've never met a sensual man who couldn't be turned on by a little female mastery. Forced seduction, Jacques. Come on, don't tell me it'll be the first time you were taken rather than the taker."

"You could be right. Why don't you tell me exactly how you intend to do it,sweetheart? Guide me through, step by step."

"My pleasure." Moistening her lips with the pointed tip of her pink tongue, Rita rested a forearm on his thighs. "First we do a little touching."

"Do we?"

"Oh, yes. Textures excite, Jacques. You know that. Sensation is everything."

Oh, yeah. "I'm bored, Rita. Can you give me sensations that'll help me forget just how bored I am?"

"Guaranteed. Relax." Her fingertips stroked little circles. "I guess I missed a step. Before we can touch we have to get rid of the wrappings. To touch, we need naked, Jacques, naked things the tongue wants to curl around."

"Naked is one of my favorite words." Now Rita held her tongue between her teeth and went to her knees between his legs. "I'm going to loosen this, Jacques - it'll help you get deeper into the mood. Aah ..." She tossed back her hair and those nimble fingers went to work again. "Better? Do I have your attention now?"

"I'm only human," he murmured and shifted in his seat. "How long is this going to take?"

"In a hurry now?"

"Let's just say I feel something's going to present itself at any second and I'm not going to be able to avoid dealing with it."

"Ah, Jacques - you do live up to your reputation. Always ready to go. I'm ready, too, darling. Open your mouth."

"Why?"

"Because I've got something you're going to want to fill it with." She peeled away satiny red and silken white. "See. Can you tell me these aren't perfect enough to make a man hungry?"

"Rita -"

"Open your mouth." Sighing, he did as she asked. "Come on. Draw it in. Yes. Yes! Oh, yes! That's the way."

Jacques closed his eyes. "Ah, ah, ah. Slowly, darling, slowly. Make it last. Roll your tongue around it and over it and ... Yes! Tell me you like it, Jacques. Tell me you can't get enough of it. Sweetheart, there's plenty more where that came from."

He swallowed and looked into her flushed face. "Nice try, Rita. You gave it your best shot. If anyone could breath some life into me, it's you."

"But?" With a thump, she sat on her heels. "But, Jacques? Don't do this to me. I can't stand it."

"You're going to have to. I just can't get it up anymore - the enthusiasm is gone. It's been gone for a long time. I'm bored with the whole process."

"You can't be." She pouted.

"Oh, but I can. Watch my lips while I make the words, sweetheart."

Frowning, Rita crossed her arms. "I'm watching."

"If I ever have to taste another candy I'm going to puke."

* * *

"No! He's not getting away with it!"

"Gaby, Gaby, don't do this to yourself." Char Brown, elderly, graying and oozing creative talent, trotted in Gaby McGregor's wake.

"Take one man, add too much money and not enough to do with it - or with his time - and what d'you have?"

"Gaby -"

"I'll tell you what you have. Trouble. Trouble with a capital T."

Char edged rapidly around Gaby and faced her in the window of the millinery workroom. "Forget Jacques Ledan. Forget the whole issue. You can't stop a man like him."

"He wants to turn Goldstrike into some sort of destination tourist trap." Frustration boiled in Gaby. "Char, he's buying this town. He plans to form one great big club and we're all getting a membership whether we like it or not. It's going to be `join or leave.' I'm not leaving, and I'm not giving up on this without a fight."

"Let it go. Who buys what in this town and what they do with it isn't your problem."

"It is my problem. It's a problem for every one of us who lives here. Things may be financially depressed, but we're used to that. Great as Knott's Berry Farm is, we don't want to become California's next down-home fun spot."

"Gaby, this isn't something you can change."

"The hell it isn't! I live here. My best friends live here. Hell, my daughter lives here!" And for the first time in her life, Gaby really liked where she was and who she was with.

"Gaby, what's happened to your language?"

"Once the rot gets in it spreads. First he bought up the old schoolhouse. Then Bartlett's Feed Store.... I'm not the only one who thinks they'd have held on if he hadn't made an offer they couldn't refuse. Next it'll be the abandoned fire station. He'll gobble up any little businesses that go under -" she paused for breath "- and on and on until Goldstrike looks like Carmel, only tackier."

"You're getting carried away." Char's dark eyes were bright with worry. "He'll never make it work, anyway. And a lot of people think Carmel's cute. It's got Clint Eastwood. But this isn't Carmel. We don't have an ocean to run to. This is central California and it's dirt, yellow, plain - and everyone knows it."

"The hell - I happen to like the way this little town looks." In fact, she loved it, had adored it from that first day, almost six years ago, when she'd been on a trip going nowhere, coming from nowhere she wanted to go back to, and had stopped for gas. The radiator in her old Chevy station wagon had chosen that moment to spring a leak, and a gas stop turned into an overnight stay that led to a permanent address change - for Gaby and her then year-old daughter, Mae.

And Gaby loved the place.