A Weekend with the Blakemores (The Blakemore Files Book 8) Read online

  Davonshire House Publishing

  PO Box 9716

  Augusta, GA 30916

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s vivid imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely a coincidence.

  © 2016 Olivia Gaines, Cheryl Aaron Corbin

  Copy Editor: Gayla Leath

  Cover: koou-graphics

  Olivia Gaines Make Up and Photograph by Latasla Gardner Photography

  ASIN:

  ISBN-13:

  ISBN-10:

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address, Davonshire House Publishing, PO Box 9716, Augusta, GA 30916.

  Printed in the United States of America

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 10 9 8

  First Davonshire House Publishing November 2015

  DEDICATION

  For you. I wrote this one for you.

  “Easy reading is damn hard writing.”

  - Nathaniel Hawthorne

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To all the fans, friends and supporters of the dream as well as the Facebook community of writers who keep me focused, inspired and moving forward.

  Write On!

  Also by Olivia Gaines

  The Slice of Life Series

  The Perfect Man

  Friends with Benefits

  A Letter to My Mother

  The Basement of Mr. McGee

  A New Mommy for Christmas

  The Slivers of Love Series

  The Cost to Play

  Thursday in Savannah

  Girl's Weekend

  Beneath the Well of Dawn

  Santa’s Big Helper

  The Davonshire Series

  Courting Guinevere

  Loving Words

  Vanity's Pleasure

  The Blakemore Files

  Being Mrs. Blakemore

  Shopping with Mrs. Blakemore

  Dancing with Mr. Blakemore

  Cruising with the Blakemores

  Dinner with the Blakemores

  Loving the Czar

  The Value of a Man Series

  My Mail Order Wife

  A Weekend with the Cromwell’s

  Other Novellas

  North to Alaska

  The Brute & The Blogger

  A Better Night in Vegas

  Other Novels

  A Menu for Loving

  Turning the Page

  Contents

  Chapter One – Rise and Shine

  Chapter Two – You Take One

  Chapter Three – We Have a Plan

  Chapter Four – Prepare the Guest Rooms

  Chapter Five – Understanding Your Place

  Chapter Six – Say What Now?

  Chapter Seven – The Lady of the Land

  Chapter Eight – Birthrights, Boys and Oh Boy!

  Chapter Nine – Preparing...planning...praying.

  Chapter Ten – You know who she is...

  Chapter Eleven – Good God Man!

  Chapter Twelve – Welcome, Welcome

  Chapter Thirteen – Ninjas, Secret, Doors & More

  Chapter Fourteen – ...And Twirl, Stop, Sashay and Twirl

  Chapter Fourteen – An Elegant Evening

  Chapter Fifteen – A Pig and a Poke

  Chapter Sixteen – Tea, Taint and Tales...

  Chapter Seventeen – A day of reckoning...

  Chapter Eighteen – Who Presents this Child

  Chapter Nineteen – Home, Sweet Home

  Chapter One – Rise and Shine

  Puenta Piedra, Colombia

  The infantile cries of Isabella roused Yuńior from an already fitful slumber. For such a small person, his newborn sister possessed the vocal range of an opera singer; she sounded about as loud as well. Hunger pangs crept through his stomach dragging him from the warmth of his bed down the stairs of the century’s old home that he shared with his father, his new stepmother, three brothers, and now a little sister. She was cute by all accounts, but was either eating, sleeping or pooping. Thus far, he had not held her, and had no issues with that either. She was so tiny, fear of snapping the little lady in two or dropping her weighed heavily on him when he initially laid eyes on her last night.

  Yuńior arrived in the kitchen to find that he was not alone, Ryanne, his father’s new wife, was also there. She looked lovely, holding Isabella to her breast while feeding her. Her little eyes were closed as her fisted hand rested against the dark skin of her mother’s breast. Her tiny mouth was suckling hard, trying to get in all the milk her little belly could hold.

  “Buenas,” Yuńior said sheepishly, embarrassed at walking in on such an intimate moment between mother and child.

  “Morning Yuńior, are you hungry?” Ryanne asked him.

  “Sí,” he said quietly. “I can get something for myself.”

  “I know, but I was going to ask, if it’s no trouble, whatever you make for yourself, would you mind getting something for me as well?”

  “Sure,” he said switching to English. He was never certain how much Spanish his stepmother spoke or understood. The few times he and his brothers had spoken in Spanish to or around her, she responded to them in English. He turned his back, moving to the kitchen sink, washing his hands before heading to the fridge. The first thing he spied was the hunk of ham from dinner. He pulled it out, along with bread from the pantry, spicy mustard, and a juicy red tomato. He eyed the spicy mustard, questioning the choice for Ryanne.

  “Señora, can you indulge, since you are breast feeding Isabella?” He inquired.

  Ryanne smiled at him, “you are always so formal with me Yuńior. It is okay to call me Ryanne, and the spicy mustard is not okay for me. I don’t do spicy.”

  “Speaking to you so informally, by your given name seems, I don’t know, disrespectful to me...,” he said as he pulled a knife from the drawer. She watched him wield the blade with surgical precision as he cut the perfect sized piece of ham for the sandwiches. Since she’d be living at Welcome to Las Tierras Verdes de mis Antecedents, the name of the farm owned by Eduardo Delgado, he and the children had been introduced to many American meals. Their favorite thus far seemed to gravitate to the easy snack of sandwiches.

  Yuńior Delgado was a handsome young man. Sixteen in age and almost six feet tall like his father, he had soulful eyes which took in every detail of his surroundings. He was thick about the shoulders with muscular legs from playing soccer and working in the fields of Las Tierras Verdes, a home and land in which he would inherit, manage and oversee. The thick dark hair which sat upon his head never seemed to be in place no matter how many times she trimmed it for him, loose strands always fell across his eyes. Of the four sons of Eduardo Delgado, this one bore his name, he also carried the burden of either following in his father’s footsteps, or making his own path. Yuńior was the one she worried about the most. He was the one, who would not have a choice of what he became. The pressure of carrying the name of one of the most powerful Czars on two continents was a weighty load to sit on anyone’s shoulders. Those who could get close enough would either want to use him or kill him to get to Eduardo. This reality, Yuńior too understood.

  He sat the sandwich in front of her, with the edges trimmed off, as he had seen her do for Angel, his youngest brother. He also cut the sandwich into four even squares to make it easy for her to handle as she fed his sister. Ryanne had not covered herself as Isabella fed.

  “You do not wish to cover yourself in my presence?” he as
ked lowering his eyes. His English phrasing was measured, weighted, and carefully chosen before speaking.

  “No,” she said. “This is your sister. I am feeding her. You should not be uncomfortable to see me this way. It is natural. I will cover myself before she detaches.”

  “As you wish Señora,” he said, seating himself at the table.

  “Thank you,” she said to him for the sandwich, lowering her head to give thanks for the small meal.

  “You are welcome,” he said, doing the same.

  They ate in silence until Isabella had gotten her fill. The burping cloth over her right shoulder now covered the baby’s face as Ryanne detached her daughter, pulling her night gown upwards to cover her breast and closing her robe. Her bladder was screaming for relief as she leaned forward, laying the cloth over Yunior’s shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” He asked with his eyes wide.

  “I have to run to the ladies room and I need you to burp her while I do so,” she said.

  “No!” he exclaimed trying to rise. Ryanne’s steady hand rested upon his shoulder, pushing him back down in the seat.

  “Yes, please,” she asked, handing the babe to him.

  “She is too small. I may harm her,” he said holding up his hands in defense.

  Ryanne ignored his protest, placing Isabella against his shoulder, using one of his hands to cup her bottom and the other she rested on the baby’s back. “Make small circles, and gentle pats until she burps. I will be right back,” she said, heading for the downstairs water closet.

  “Seňora?” he called after her. But all he saw was the tail end of soft fabric as she made her way to the ladies room.

  The small bundle in his arms nestled against his chest as he slowly made circles on her back, gently patting. Instinct made him talk to her as he had witnessed his father doing last night. “Okay little sister,” he said. “I need you to burp for me.”

  A song, he’d heard his Abuela sing to Angel, seemed appropriate at the moment. In a soft voice, he began to sing to Isabella, his cheek resting against the tiny, almost hairless head. Isabella cooed and snuggled closer to his chest, expelling a milk laden burp. Yuńior stopped singing.

  Isabella wiggled and twisted in his arms. An instant of fear gripped him as he held onto the baby, rubbing her back some more. She writhed again, her little head bobbing up and down. He looked about with panic for Ryanne who had not returned. Uncertain what to do, he began to sing again. She settled down, nestling against him, her face now turned to his.

  “You are adorable,” he said to his sister as he held onto the small bundle.

  It was in this instant Yuńior Delgado fell head over heels when a smile so pure adorned her little face. Isabella Riesel Trodat Castanza Delgado would also grow up on the land that his father worked tirelessly to make yield coffee, food and crops to sustain his family and the adjacent villages. A premise that Yuńior secretly wanted no part of, but would be forced to inherit. The slow resentment, which had been building in him, to continue a legacy of living in two worlds had not appealed in the least compared to the life he often envisioned for himself outside of being the Czar’s heir apparent. He wanted to travel anonymously and see the world. The few times he’d traveled alone, or at least attempted to, his father sent an armed guard with him. Gunther was a man with the personality of a gorilla preparing for mating season. The gorilla was also the reason he quit the futból team. Every game he played in, the gorilla sat on the sidelines watching him and everyone around him like a horny Silverback.

  Gunther sat in the locker room doing the same which made all of his teammates uncomfortable. The gorilla traveled on the team autobus, squeezing his mass into the outer seat, squishing Yuńior against the window. “If someone wanted me dead, they would only have to shoot through the window,” he told the guard. “Shouldn’t I be seated in the aisle since the intended killer would have to get on the bus to get to me?”

  The guard was big, but not very bright. His presence made Yuńior stick out like a sore thumb, severely lessening his chances of making any friends. The chances of obtaining a nice girlfriend was also hampered by the huge primate as well as bearing the last name of Delgado. None of the nice girls from good families would give him the time of day. Some of the girls in his school were either related or part of other families who desired an alliance with his father. The loose and fast ones were always on his heels offering far more than he wanted from any of them. He bypassed the ingénues without a secondary glance which gave him a label of being a cold fish. Yuńior Delgado was his father’s son. A young man of few words and carefully thought out actions. He was even more careful with his choices. His first sexual experience with a girl came by way of one of the house keepers at his Abuela’s home. She was nice enough to teach him, showing patience at his unskilled attempts to provide her pleasure. He was a quick study, learning what she liked as well as what pleased him giving him a confidence that showed through in his gait. That had been two years ago. Since then, he’d become much better in his talents with not only young women, but with guns, knives, and so much more.

  He understood how his father felt now as he held Isabella’s little body. She would grow up to be the Lady of the Land. This was his world, whether he wanted it or not. He was the son of Eduardo Benicio Castanza de la Marta Delgado. Isabella was his father’s daughter and part of everything his father worked hard to protect, defend and nurture. As his namesake, he would do the same.

  “I am my father’s son and your big brother,” he said to his sister. “I shall protect you with my life little one.”

  Chapter Two – You Take One

  Busy B Ranch, Houston Texas

  Saxton Blakemore awoke with a smile on his face that went from one ear to the other as the sound of silence welcomed him to Saturday morning. It was time for breakfast and he was wide awake well before his children which brought an even bigger grin to his heart as he imagined the luxurious feel of cocoa covered mounds in his mouth and hot, steamy buns in his hands. A man should not start the day without his breakfast.

  He tapped at his wife’s shoulder, nudging her gently to wake her from a dead sleep. A light stream of sunlight filtered through the window illuminating the room slightly as he gazed upon the object of his desire. Her mouth was slack. Drool ran down her cheek as her legs were splayed wide appearing as if someone had hit her hard in the head leaving her to be picked over by vultures. All of that sexy belonged to him and he was proud to call her his own. He needed all of that sexy to get with the program, it was Saturday morning, the children were still sleeping, and he was hungry. I want my breakfast.

  Saxton undid the first button of her pajama top, snaking his hand inside to cup the beautiful, full cocoa hued mound. Small kisses were placed about her neck as his knee nudged her thigh. “Wake up sweetie,” he mumbled into her neck. “Daddy needs some breakfast.”

  Odessa didn’t move.

  He tried harder, nudging her some more as he tugged on the drawstring of her pajama pants. It amazed him to no end how his wife could sleep like a dead man but if one of her babies even eked out a small cry, she was up in a flash, functioning and moving. At this point, he was so hungry, he was not beyond playing dirty to get what he needed. His hand slid inside of the pajama bottoms, going low, connecting, touching, caressing, bringing moisture along with hope that she would awake ready to serve him up a hearty helping of yummy.

  “Mmmm,” Odessa moaned as she shifted in the bed.

  It’s working. Just a little bit more. A little more.

  “Odessa,” he whispered. “I need you, please wake up.”

  She moved just a tad more, mumbling, as he placed his finger over her mouth. The master bedroom closet had been converted to a nursery for the twins, Robbie and Austin, so they could be close. The moment they heard their mother’s voice, they would wake with a start, demanding her attention. Right now he needed it more and he was demanding she wake up. He loved his children with every fiber of his being and would
walk on hot coals to ensure their safety, but the two little cock blockers had been a damper on his mornings, and his rooster needed to crow. It may not have been able to crow loudly, but damn it, it was going to get at least one hen going. His hand moved more aggressively, bringing more moisture, more hope, and a cracked eyelid.

  “Saxton?” Odessa said sleepily, wiping the drool from the side of her mouth.

  “Shhh,” he whispered. “We don’t want to wake them, but I need you.”

  He knew exactly how to get her going in the mornings. She may not have been fully awake, but her body was and ready for him. Eager hands tugged at the waistband of her pajama bottoms, dragging the fabric over her thighs. Odessa’s hands fumbled at the buttons on her pajama top, but he pushed them away, lifting the top, bunching the material under her neck as he lowered his head, kissing, nibbling, and sucking at her. A soft moan escaped her lips as his finger moved to her mouth, pressing on the luscious lips, urging her silence.

  Her quietness didn’t last long as her muscle bound husband moved over her, shifting his weight between her legs. His head rested against her neck as a satisfied groan crept up from the back of his throat as the feel of her surrounded him. It didn’t matter when or where they connected, the sweet moment of being inside her always had the same effect on him. The joy of pure pleasure ebbed through him as he moved gently against her. Relishing in the feel of a woman who loved him without question, accepted him as he was and bore him two beautiful children, he worked to ensure her pleasure matched his own. Each day, each minute of sharing a life with her added something to his world he never thought he would have. He wanted to whisper in her ear sweet words of love, sharing the feelings of the beauty of this wonderful moment with her.

  He looked down at his wife, opening his mouth to tell her so saying with passion, “Urrgghhaaaa,” with a hearty helping of morning breath.