Thorn's Challenge

Thorn’s Challenge
Brenda Jackson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This is to my readers who felt the chemistry between Thorn and Tara from the first and wanted their story.

To my friend India Catrett, “Motorcycle Lady” extraordinaire. The only woman I know who owns her own Harley. Thanks for all the information you provided on motorcycles, Bike Week and motorcycle racing. This book is definitely for you.

Love endures long and is patient and kind…it takes no account of the evil done to it—pays no attention to a suffered wrong.

—I Corinthians 13: 4-5

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Prologue

Tara Matthews hated weddings.

She had done a pretty good job of avoiding them until she had met the Westmorelands. Since then she had attended two weddings within an eighteen-month period. She’d had even been maid of honor when her good friend, Delaney Westmoreland, had married a desert sheikh almost a year and a half ago.

And today, like everyone else in the grand ballroom of the Sheraton Hotel in downtown Atlanta, she had come to celebrate the wedding of Delaney’s brother, Dare Westmoreland to the woman he loved, Shelly Brockman.

The worst part, Tara thought as she glanced around her, was that she couldn’t really complain about having to attend the weddings. Not when the Westmorelands had become the closest thing to a family she’d had since that fateful day in June two years ago. It was to have been her wedding day, but she had stood at the altar in complete shock after the groom, the man she had loved, who she thought had loved her, had announced to all three hundred guests that he couldn’t go through with the wedding because he was in love with her maid of honor—the woman she’d considered her best friend for over fifteen years. That day Tara had left Bunnell, Florida, hurt and humiliated, and vowing to her family that she would never return.

And so far she hadn’t.

A few days later she’d accepted a position as a resident pediatrician at a hospital in Bowling Green, Kentucky. Leaving her hometown had destroyed her and her father’s dream of working together in his pediatric practice.

While working at the hospital in Kentucky, she had met Delaney Westmoreland, another pediatrician, and they had become the best of friends. She had also become good friends with four of Delaney’s five older brothers, Dare, Stone and the twins, Chase and Storm. The initial meeting between her and the fifth brother, Thorn, had been rather rocky. She’d “gone off” on him about his unpleasant mood. Since then, they had pretty much avoided each other, which suited her just fine. At six foot-four, thirty-five-years of age, ruggedly handsome and sexy as sin, Thorn Westmoreland was the last man she needed to be around; especially since whenever she saw him she thought of scented candles, naked bodies and silken sheets.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” she whispered to Delaney, who turned to her, nodded and smiled. Tara smiled back, understanding that the older woman Delaney was talking to wasn’t letting her get a word in. Glancing at her watch to see how much longer she needed to put in an appearance, Tara made her way down a long, empty hallway to the restrooms.

Her thoughts drifted to the fact that next month she would be moving from Kentucky to the Atlanta area. She was moving because an older married doctor with clout at the Kentucky hospital had been obsessed with having her in his bed. When she’d rebuffed his advances, he’d tried making her work environment difficult. To avoid the sexual harassment lawsuit she’d threatened to file, the hospital had decided to relocate her and Atlanta had been her first choice.

Tara was so busy putting her lipstick case back in her purse after leaving the restroom that she didn’t notice the man coming out of the men’s room at the same time, until they collided head on.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was—”

Any further words died on her lips when she saw that the man she had bumped into was Thorn Westmoreland. He seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

“Thorn.”

“Tara.”

He returned her greeting in an irritated tone as his intense dark eyes held her gaze. She frowned, wondering what he was upset about. He hadn’t been looking where he was going any more than she had, so the blame wasn’t all hers. But she decided to be cordial for once where he was concerned. “I apologize for not looking where I was going.”

When he didn’t say anything, but frowned and narrowed his eyes at her, Tara decided not to wait for a response that undoubtedly wasn’t coming. She made a move to pass him, and it was then that she noticed he had not removed his hand from her arm. She looked down at his hand and then back at him.

“Thanks for keeping me from falling, Thorn, but you can let go of me now.”

Instead of releasing her, his hold tightened and then he muttered something deep in his throat, which to Tara’s ears sounded pretty much like, “I doubt if I can.” Then, suddenly, without any warning, he leaned down and captured her lips with his.

The first thought that came to Tara’s mind was that she had to resist him. But a second thought quickly followed; she should go ahead and get him out of her system since he had been there from the day they’d met. Shamefully she admitted that the attraction she’d felt for him was stronger than any she’d ever felt for a man, and that included Derrick Hayes, the man she had planned to marry.

The third thought that whipped through her mind was that Thorn Westmoreland definitely knew how to kiss. The touch of his tongue to hers sent a jolt through her so intense, her midsection suddenly felt like a flaming torch. Emotions, powerful and overwhelming, shot through her, and she whimpered softly as he deepened the kiss with bold strokes of his tongue, seizing any sound she made, effectively and efficiently staking a claim on her mouth.

A claim she didn’t want him to make, but one he was making anyway.

He used his hands to cup her bottom boldly and instinctively she moved closer to him, coming into contact with his straining arousal. When she placed her arms around his neck, he arched his back, lifted her off the floor and brought her more snugly to him, hip-to-hip, thigh-to-thigh, and breast-to-breast. His taste, tinged with the slight hint of champagne, went right to her head, and a dizzy rush of need she couldn’t explain sent blood rushing through all parts of her.

When he finally released her mouth and placed her back down on solid ground, they were both breathless. He didn’t let go of her. He continued to hold her in his arms, nibbling on her neck, her chin and her lips before recapturing her mouth with his for another bone-melting kiss.

He sucked on her tongue tenderly, passionately, slowly, as though he had all the time in the world to drive her mad with desire. It was a madness that flooded her insides and made her moan out a pleasure she had never experienced before. Potent desire, stimulating pleasure, radiated from his hands, his tongue and the hard body pressed to hers. When he finally broke off the kiss, she slumped weakly against his chest thinking that in all her twenty-seven years, she had never been kissed like that.

She slowly regained her senses as she felt him remove his hands from her. She slid her hands from his shoulders and looked up into his eyes, seeing anger radiating there. He apparently was mad at himself for having kissed her, and even madder with her for letting him. Without saying a word he turned and walked off. He didn’t look back. When he was no longer in sight she breathed deeply, still feeling the heat from his kiss.

Tara nervously moistened her lips as she tried to regain control of her senses. She felt it was fairly safe to assume, after a kiss like that, that Thorn was now out of her system. In any case, she was determined more than ever to continue to avoid him like the plague.

Two years ago she had learned a hard lesson; love, the happily-ever-after kind, was not meant for her.

One

Three months later

She had a body to die for and Thorn Westmoreland was slowly drawing his last breath.

A slow, easy smile spread across his face. She was exquisite, every man’s fantasy come true. Everything about her was a total turn-on, guaranteed to get your adrenaline flowing, and his blood was so incredibly fired up he could barely stand it.

He took his time and studied every magnificent line of her. The sight lured him closer for an even better inspection. She was definitely a work of art, sleek, well built with all the right angles and curves, and tempted him beyond belief. He wanted to mount her and give her the ride of her life…or possibly get the ride of his.

He felt a distinct tingle in his stomach. Reaching out, his fingers gently touched her. She was ready for him.

As ready as he was for her…

“Hey, Thorn, you’ve been standing there salivating over that bike for at least ten minutes. Don’t you think you should give it a rest?”

The smile on Thorn’s face faded and without turning around to see who had spoken he said. “The shop’s closed, Stone.”

“You’re here, so that means it’s open,” Stone Westmoreland said, coming into his brother’s line of vision. Thorn was standing ogling the motorcycle he had built, his latest creation, the Thorn-Byrd RX1860. Rumors were spreading like wildfire that a Harley couldn’t touch the Thorn-Byrd RX1860 for style and a Honda had nothing on it for speed. Stone didn’t doubt both things were true. After all, this was another one of Thorn’s babies. It had taken Thorn an entire year to build it; five months longer than it usually took him to put together one of his motorcycles. People came from all over the country to special order a Thorn-Byrd. They were willing to pay the hefty price tag to own the custom-built style and class only Thorn could deliver. You got what you paid for and everyone knew Thorn put not only his reputation and name behind each bike he built, but also his heart and soul.

“And why are you closing up early?” Stone asked, ignoring his brother’s deep frown. He knew Thorn well enough to overlook his grouchiness.

“I thought I would be getting a few moments of privacy. I regret the day I gave all of you keys to this place.”

Stone grinned, knowing Thorn was referring to him and their three brothers. “Well, it was best that you did. No telling when we might drop in and find you trapped beneath a pile of chrome and metal.”

Thorn raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Has the thought ever occurred to you that you could also find me in bed with a woman?”

“No.”

“Well, there is that possibility. Next time try knocking first instead of just barging in,” Thorn snapped. Because he spent so many hours at the shop, his office had all the comforts of home including a room in the back with a bed. He also had a workout room that he used regularly to stay in shape.

“I’ll try and remember that,” Stone said, chuckling. His brother was known for his bark as well as his bite. Thorn could be a real pain in the rear end when he wanted to. There was that episode with Patrice Canady a few years back. It seemed Thorn had been mad at the whole world because of one woman. On top of that, there was Thorn’s policy of not indulging in sex while training for a race. And since he’d been involved in a number of races so far this year, he’d been grouchier than usual. Like a number of athletes, Thorn believed that sex before an event would drain your body and break your concentration. As far as Stone was concerned, race or no race, to improve his mood Thorn definitely needed to get laid.

“What are you doing here, Stone? Don’t you have a book to write?” Thorn asked. Stone, at thirty-three, was a nationally known bestselling author of several action-thriller novels. He wrote under the pen name of Rock Mason.

Thorn’s question reminded Stone why he had dared enter the lion’s den. “No, I just finished a book and mailed it to my publisher this morning. I’m here to remind you about tonight’s card game at seven-thirty.”

“I remember—”

“And to let you know the location has changed. It’s not going to be over at Dare’s place as planned since AJ’s camping trip was cancelled. The last thing we need is for Storm to be cursing all over the place when he starts losing and tempting our nephew to add a few of those choice words to his vocabulary.”

Thorn nodded in agreement. “So where will it be?”

“Tara’s place.”

Thorn turned and narrowed his gaze at his brother. “Why the hell are we playing cards at Tara’s place?”

Stone hoped the amusement dancing in his eyes didn’t show. He and the other brothers had taken Tara up on her offer to have the card game at her place mainly because they knew it would rile Thorn. They were well aware of how hard he went out of his way to avoid her. “The reason we’re having the card game at her place is because she invited us over as a way to thank us for helping her move in.”

“I didn’t help.”

“Only because you were out of town for a race that weekend.”

Thorn propped his hip against a table and decided not to tell Stone that even if he’d been in town he would not have helped. Being around Tara Matthews was pure torture and the last thing he wanted to remember was the time he’d lost his head and gotten a real good taste of her at Dare’s wedding. If his brothers knew the two of them had kissed, he would never hear the last of it.

Sighing deeply, Thorn slanted his brother a hard look. “Why can’t we play cards at your place?”

“It’s being painted.”

“What about Chase’s place?” He asked about the brother who owned a soul food restaurant in downtown Atlanta. Chase was a twin to his brother Storm.

“Too junky.”

“And Storm’s?”

“There’ll be too many interruptions from women calling him on the phone.”

Thorn sighed deeply. At thirty-two, Storm, who was the younger of the twins, was a fireman by day and a devout ladies’ man at night.

“Then what about my place?”

Stone laughed and shook his head. “Forget it. You never have any food in the fridge or enough beer to drink. So are you coming?”

Thorn frowned. “I’ll think about it.”

Stone inwardly smiled. It was hard for Thorn to miss a Westmoreland card game “Okay, if we see you, that’s fine, and if we don’t see you that will be fine, too. I’ll just win all of Storm’s money by myself.”

Thorn’s frown deepened. “Like hell you will.”

Stone smile. “And like hell you would even if you’re there,” he said throwing out the challenge, knowing just how much Thorn liked challenges. Whether Thorn admitted it or not, his brothers knew that his biggest challenge was a good-looking woman by the name of Tara Matthews.

The buzzing of Tara Matthews’s intercom captured her attention. “Yes, Susan?”

“Mrs. Lori Chadwick is here to see you, Dr. Matthews.”

Tara lifted a brow, wondering what had brought Lori Chadwick to her office. Her husband, Dr. Martin Chadwick, was Head of Pediatrics and a very important man around the hospital. He was also her boss. “Please send her in.”

Tara smiled when the door opened and Lori Chadwick walked in. As usual the older woman looked stunning. It was a known fact that Lori Chadwick enjoyed raising money for the hospital, and if the new children’s wing was any indication, she was very good at it.

“Mrs. Chadwick,” Tara greeted respectfully, offering her hand.

“Dr. Matthews, it’s good seeing you again, dear.”

“Thanks,” Tara said, gesturing to a chair across from her desk. “It’s good seeing you again, too.” The last time she’d seen Mrs. Chadwick had been at a charity function a few weeks ago. It had been the first such function she had attended since moving to Atlanta and joining the staff at Emory University Hospital.

Lori Chadwick smiled. “I know how busy you are, Dr. Matthews, so I’ll get straight to the point. I’m here to solicit your help in a fundraiser I’m planning.”

Tara sat down behind her desk and returned Lori Chadwick’s smile, flattered that the older woman had sought her assistance. One of the first things she’d been told by the other doctors when she had first arrived was not to get on Lori Chadwick’s bad side. The woman loved her pet projects and expected everyone else to have the same enthusiasm for them as well. “I’d be glad to help. What sort of project do you have in mind?”

“I thought a charity calendar would be nice and would generate a lot of interest. The money that we’ll make from the sale of the calendars will help Kids’ World.”

Tara nodded. Kids’ World was a foundation that gave terminally ill children the chance to make their ultimate dream—such as a visit to any place in the world—come true. All proceeds for the foundation came from money raised through numerous charity events.

“Any ideas for this calendar?” Tara asked, thinking she really liked what Mrs. Chadwick was proposing.

“Yes. It will be a calendar of good-looking men,” the older woman said chuckling. “I’m not too old to appreciate a fine masculine physique. And a ‘beef-cake’ calendar, tastefully done of course, would sell like hotcakes. But I want a variety of men from all walks of life,” she added excitedly. “So far, I’ve already gotten a number of firm commitments. But there are still a few spots open and that’s why I’m here. There’s one name that keeps popping up as a suggestion from a number of the women I’ve talked to, and from what I understand he’s a friend of yours.”

Tara raised a brow. “A friend of mine?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Thorn Westmoreland, the motorcycle racer. I understand that he’s something of a daredevil, a risk-taker on that motorcycle of his. He would definitely do the calendar justice.”

Before Tara could gather her wits and tell Lori Chadwick that Thorn was definitely not a friend of hers, the woman smiled radiantly and said. “And I’m counting on you, Dr. Matthews, to convince Mr. Westmoreland to pose for the charity calendar. I know you won’t let me and Kids’ World down.”

Later that evening Tara glanced up at a knock at her front door. Wiping the cookie dough from her hands she looked at the clock on the stove. It was only a little past seven and the card game wouldn’t start until nine. She crossed her living room to the door and peeped out.

Thorn!

She thought Stone had said that Thorn wouldn’t be coming tonight. Her heart suddenly began pounding fast and furious. Adrenaline mixed with overheated hormones gave her a quick rush, and the first thought that entered her mind was of the kiss she and Thorn had shared at his brother’s wedding three months before; a kiss she’d been certain would get him out of her system.

But it hadn’t.

In fact he was more in her thoughts than ever before.

She slowly opened the door, wondering why, if he had come to play cards, he had arrived so early. There was just something about the way he stood there with his helmet in his hand that really did crazy things to Tara’s entire body. She felt breathless and her pulse actually ached low in her stomach as he adopted the sexiest pose she had ever seen in a man. It was a stance that would have any woman salivating if it was captured on a calendar; especially the kind Lori Chadwick proposed.

The thumb of his right hand was in his pocket and his left hand held his helmet by his side. He had shifted most of his weight to his right leg which made his jeans stretch tight, firmly across his thighs. They were masculine thighs, lean and powerful looking. The broad shoulders under the leather bomber jacket revealed a beautiful proportioned upper body and from the first, she had been acutely conscious of his tall, athletic physique. He was so devilishly handsome she could barely stand it. She lowered her gaze to his black leather motorcycle boots before returning to his eyes. The man was definitely gorgeous with his brooding good looks. There was no other way to describe him.

His gaze made intense heat settle in the pit of her stomach, and her heart began pounding even harder. She tried not to concentrate on his tight jeans, his leather bomber jacket or the diamond stud earring in his left ear. But that only left his face, which in itself was a total turn-on. His hair was cut close to his head and his skin was a smooth coppery brown. His eyes were so dark they appeared to be black satin. His nose was firm and his cheekbones chiseled. But it was his mouth that had her full attention. She was flooded with memories of how that mouth had felt against hers and how it had tasted. It was full, generously curved, and enticing with a capital E. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never seen him smile. Around her he always wore a frown.

Even now.

Even that night he had kissed her.

She sighed, not wanting to remember that night although she knew she’d never forget it. “Thorn, what are you doing here?” she cleared her throat and asked.

“Isn’t there a card game here tonight?” he responded in a voice too good to be real. A deep huskiness lingered in its tone and the throaty depth of it held a sensuality that was like a silken thread wrapping all around her, increasing the rhythm of her heart.

She cleared her throat again when he raised his brow, waiting for her response. “Yes, but you’re early. It doesn’t start until nine.”

“Nine?” he lifted a dark, brooding brow. “I could have sworn Stone said the game started at seven-thirty.” He glanced down at his watch. “All right, I’ll be back later,” he said curtly and turned to leave.

“Thorn?”

He turned back around and met her gaze. He was still frowning. “Yes?”

Tara knew that now would be a good time to talk to him about the Lori Chadwick’s calendar. She had mentioned it to Chase Westmoreland when he’d stopped by the hospital after Mrs. Chadwick’s visit, and he’d said there was no reason for her not to ask Thorn if he’d do it. After all, the calendar was for charity. He had warned her upfront, however, that she had her work cut out for her in persuading Thorn to do the calendar. Thorn, he’d said, detested a lot of publicity about himself. According to Chase, the last time Thorn had been involved in a publicity stunt had ended up being a love affair from hell. No amount of further probing had made Chase give her any more information than that. He had said that if she wanted to know the whole story, Thorn would have to be the one to tell her.

“You’re welcome to hang around until the others arrive if you’d like. You won’t have that long to wait. It’s only an hour and a half,” she said.

“No thanks,” he didn’t hesitate in saying. “In fact, tell my brothers that I’ve changed my mind and won’t be playing cards tonight after all.”

Tara watched as walked over to his bike, straddled his thighs over it, placed the shiny black helmet over his head, started the engine and took off as if the devil himself was chasing him.

This, Thorn thought, is the next best thing to making love to a woman.

Bearing down, he leaned onto the bike as he took a sharp curve. The smooth humming sound of the bike’s engine soothed his mind and reminded him of a woman purring out her pleasure in bed. It was the same purring sound he would love to hear from Tara Matthews’s lips.

Even with Atlanta’s cool January air hitting him, his body felt hot, as a slow burning sensation moved down his spine. He was experiencing that deep, cutting, biting awareness he encountered every time he saw Tara. His hands tightened their grip on the handlebars as he remembered how she had looked standing in the doorway wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top. He found her petite, curvy body, dark mahogany skin, light brown eyes and dark brown shoulder-length hair too distracting on one hand and too attracting on the other. It rattled him to no end that he was so physically aware of everything about her as a woman.

Even when she’d lived in Kentucky she had invaded his sleep. His dreams had been filled with forbidden and invigorating sex. Cold showers had become a habit with him. No woman had been able to invade his space at work, but she had been there too, more times than he could count. Building motorcycles and preparing for races had always gotten his total concentration—until he’d met Tara Matthews.

He’d constantly been reminded of the first time they had met. He had arrived at his sister Delaney’s apartment late one night with his four brothers playing cards and no one had a clue where Delany had gone or when she would return. At least no one had felt the need to tell him. He had lost his cool and had been one step away from murdering his brothers. Tara had stormed out of Delaney’s kitchen, with all her luscious curves fitting snugly in a short denim skirt, sexier than any woman had a right to be. And with more courage than anyone had a right to have, she had gotten all in his face. She had straightened her spine, lifted her chin and read him the riot act about the way he had questioned his brothers over Delaney’s whereabouts. She’d told him in no uncertain terms what she thought of his foul mood. All the while she’d been setting him straight, his lust had stirred to maximum proportions, and the only thing he could think about was getting her to the nearest bedroom and zapping her anger by making love to her.

The quick intensity of his desire had frightened the hell out of him, and he had resented feeling that way. After Patrice, he had vowed that no woman would be his downfall again and he’d meant it. He wasn’t having any of that.

An ache suddenly gripped his mid-section when he thought of just what he would like to have. A piece of Tara would do him just fine; just enough so that he could get her out of his system, something the kiss hadn’t accomplished. He wanted to bury himself inside her as deeply as he could and not come out until he had gotten his fill, over and over again. Such a feat might take days, weeks, even months. He had never been in this predicament before and was working hard not to let his brothers know. If they had any idea that he had the hots for their baby sister’s best friend, they would give him pure hell and he would never hear the last of it. Even now the reminder of Tara’s taste was causing his mouth to water.

And to think she had invited him to hang around her place for an hour and a half and wait for his brothers tonight. He couldn’t imagine himself alone with her for any length of time and especially not for longer than an hour. There was no way he could have done that and kept his sanity. That would have been asking for even more trouble than he had gotten into with her at Dare’s wedding.

Squaring his shoulders he leaned onto his bike as he took another sharp curve with indulgent precision, relishing the freedom and thrill of letting go in a totally uninhibited way. It was the same way he wanted to take Tara when he made love to her.

The way he would take her.

That simple acceptance strengthened his resolve and made the decision he’d just made that much easier to deal with. The restraint and control he’d tried holding on to since first meeting Tara was slowly loosening. A completely physical, emotionally free affair is what he wanted with her. It was time to stop running and meet his challenge head-on.

His next race was during Bike Week in Daytona Beach and was only seven weeks from now. Seven more weeks of celibacy to go.

While waiting he intended to get Tara primed, ripe and ready, much like this very machine he was riding. However, even with all the similarities, there was no doubt in his mind that getting Tara in his bed would be a unique experience. He would get the ride of his life and centrifugal force would definitely be the last thing on his mind.

He smiled. Yes, it was time he and Tara stopped avoiding each other and started making plans to put all that wasted energy to good use.