A Real Cowboy Never Says No
Page 22
“It’s going to be okay.” His voice was low and reassuring in her ear, his lips brushing against her as he spoke. “She’s going to be fine.”
Crushed against this stranger’s body, protected by his arms, soothed by the utter confidence in his voice, the terror that had been stalking her finally eased away. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
There was a hint of emotion in his voice, and she pulled back far enough to look at him. His eyes were dark, so dark she couldn’t tell if they were brown or black, but she could see the torment in his expression. His jaw was angular, and his face was shadowed by the floodlights. He was a man with weight in his heart. She felt it right away. Instinctively, she laid a hand on his cheek. “You’re a gift.”
He flashed another smile, and for a split second, he put his hand over hers, holding it to his whiskered cheek as if she were some angel of mercy come to give him relief. Her throat thickened, and for a moment, everything else vanished. It was just them, drenched and cold on a windy mountain road, the only warmth was their hands, clasped together against his cheek.
His eyes darkened, then he cleared his throat suddenly and released her hand, jerking her back to the present. “Wait until you see whether I can pull it off,” he said, his voice low and rough, sending chills of awareness rippling down her spine. “Then you can reevaluate that compliment.” He tugged on the harness. “Ready?”
She gripped the cold nylon, suddenly nervous. Was she edgy because she was about to climb over a tree that could careen into the gully while she was on it, or was it due to intensity of the sudden heat between them? God, she hoped it was the first one. Being a wimp was so much less dangerous than noticing a man like him. “Aren’t you wearing one?”
He quirked a smile at her, a jaunty grin that melted one more piece of her thundering heart. “I only have one, and ladies always get first dibs. Besides, I’m a good climber. If the tree takes me over, I’ll find my way back up. Always do.” He set his foot on a lower branch and patted his knee. “A one-of-a-kind step ladder. Hop up, Ms.—?” He paused, leaving the question hovering in the storm.
“Clare.” She set her muddy boot on his knee, and she grimaced apologetically when the mud glopped all over his jeans. “Clare Gray.” She grabbed a branch and looked at him. “And you are?”
“Griffin Friesé.” He set his hand on her hip to steady her, his grip strong and solid. “Let’s go save some kids, shall we?”
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Sneak Peek: Fairy Tale Not Required
An Ever After Novel
A car door slammed, and Jason tensed. Shit. He wasn’t in the mood to be sociable right now. If the little old lady from his fantasies had finally shown up with a plate of cookies, she was too damn late. She was just going to have to leave them on the porch.
Jason sheathed the blade of the utility knife back into the casing, waiting for that inevitable ring of the doorbell. How many times had he answered his door to find another note of condolence or another casserole after Lucas’s death, and then Kate’s? Well-meaning acquaintances who thought that a smile and a slab of meatloaf would ease the gaping void in his soul. He’d stopped answering the door, because there was no way to pretend to be appreciative when all the darkness was consuming him.
And now, after fighting like hell to get past that, after scraping his way back into a place from which he could function, all those emotions had returned, brought on by the overwhelming silence of his house. That same silence that had flooded him when he’d come back home after watching his son die at the hospital and felt the gaping absence of Lucas.
Silence fucking sucked, but a doorbell was no better.
But the doorbell didn’t ring, and the car didn’t drive away.
Scowling, Jason walked across the landing to peer out the back window at the driveway.
Astrid Munroe’s rusted junker was in his driveway. Astrid. He’d forgotten she was coming.
Adrenaline rushed through him, breaking him free from the tentacles of the past. His heart suddenly began to beat again, thudding back to life with a jolting ache. He tossed the knife aside, spun away from the window and vaulted down the stairs, taking them three at a time, almost desperate for the air he knew Astrid would feed back into his lungs.
He jerked the back door open and stepped out onto the front porch, unable to keep the hum of anticipation from vibrating through him. “Astrid?”
Her car was empty, and she was nowhere in sight.
Trepidation rippled through him. Another woman dead? He immediately shook his head, shutting out the fear that had cropped up out of habit. Instead, he quickly scanned his property, knowing she had to be there somewhere.
But there was no Astrid. Frowning, Jason jogged down the pathway that led around the house toward the lake front, urgency coursing through him to find the one woman who had brought that brief respite into his life, that flash of sunshine, that gaping moment of relief from all that he carried. Where was she? He had to find her. Now.
Jason was almost sprinting by the time he rounded the rear corner of his house and saw her. The moment he saw her, he stopped dead, utterly awed by the sight before him.
“Son of a bitch,” he whispered under his breath as he stared at the woman who’d rocked his world only a few hours before.
Astrid was standing on one of the rocks on the edge of the lake, silhouetted by an unbelievable sunset. The sky was vibrating with reds, oranges and a vibrant violet, casting the passionate array of colors across the lake’s surface. Astrid’s hands were on her hips, her face tilted up toward the sky, as if she were drinking the beauty of the sunset right through her skin. Her auburn hair was framed in vibrant orange and violet, a wild array of passion that seemed to mesh with the wild woods around her.
Her sandals were on the ground beside the rock, her bare toes gripping the boulder. She was wearing the same jeans and tank top as she had earlier, despite the slight evening coolness cropping up in the air. It was as if she hadn’t bothered to notice, as if she couldn’t deign herself to succumb to something so mundane as a cool breeze.
She was above it all, and Jason felt the tightness in his lungs easing simply from being in her presence. Astrid.
He knew then that he hadn’t come to Birch Crossing for the town, or for the plate of cookies, or even for the damn pizza store he was planning to open. He had come for her. For Astrid. For the sheer, raw passion that she exuded with every breath.
She was the epitome of freedom, of passion, of life. Rightness roared through him at the sight of her on his land, basking in the sunset, breathing in the air that he suddenly noticed. The fresh, clean scent of woods and crystalline water filled him, as if Astrid’s reverence of their surroundings had brought his own senses back to life.
She was beautiful. Not simply beautiful. She was beauty itself, the definition of all that it could be in a person’s wildest, most desperate imagination.
Yearning crashed through Jason to lose himself in her, to use her vibrant energy to wipe away the smut covering his soul and give him the chance to breathe again, to find his path in this second chance that he’d tried to give his son. He was captivated by her, even the way she ignored protocol and had helped herself to his rock and the sunset, not even bothering to ring the doorbell. She was a free spirit, a woman who didn’t fit into the town and didn’t care.
He wanted that freedom. He needed to get caught up in her spell. He would never survive if he didn’t find a way to forget, even for a minute, all the burdens crashing down on him. There was no choice, no other path, no other option, than to lose himself in the aura that was Astrid. To remember that there was something else in life beside the darkness that consumed him.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She didn’t turn around, but her voice drifted to him, a melody that seemed to crawl under his skin and ignite flames within him.
“Yes, it is.” He began to walk toward her, tentative, almost afraid of spook
ing her and losing the moment. But he couldn’t keep from approaching her. He was drawn to her as if she were a magnet, calling to his soul, to the part of him that had once been alive. His need for her was pulsing through every cell of his body, so intense that it almost hurt, as if something inside of him was fighting its way to life after an eternity of being dead.
“This is the best place in town to watch the sunset. Is that why you bought it?” She spoke softly, almost as if she were afraid to disturb the beauty of the sunset.
“I haven’t noticed a sunset in years,” he admitted as he reached her. He stopped beside the rock, suddenly uncertain of how to approach. Of what to do next. Of how to get closer. “I bought the house because it has lake front, and I thought Noah would like it.”
Astrid turned her head slightly to look at him, and he caught his breath at the sight of her face. The sun was casting a soft glow, illuminating her face so that her eyes seemed to vibrate with depth and passion… He realized suddenly that there was none of the levity in her expression that he’d seen before. Just pain and emotion, fighting to be free. His chest tightened for the agony he saw in her face, for the depth of trauma that seemed to echo what beat so mercilessly in his own soul. Outrage suddenly exploded through him, fury that someone had inflicted such damage on this angel that she could harbor such pain. Astrid was so free, so untamed, that she should be gallivanting across the surface of the lake, not looking at him as if her heart had been carved right out her chest.
“You don’t notice sunsets?” she asked.
He barely heard her words or registered his response to her. All he could think about was the woman before him, the depth of her spirit, his need to somehow chase away the shadows and bring back the spirit that he knew was coursing through her veins. “No. I wouldn’t have noticed this one if you weren’t out here.”
She shook her head, and that teasing glint sparkled in her eyes again, making his stomach leap. Yes, Astrid. Come back to me. He moved closer to the rock, ruthlessly drawn toward her.
She grinned at him. “Well, you’ve got some learnin’ to do, Sarantos, if you’re going to be living in this here town. Sunset appreciation is mandatory for all residents, and you’ll be quizzed every morning at Wright’s when you show up for your coffee.” She held out her hand and beckoned with her fingers. “Up,” she ordered.
Jason grinned at her bold command, and he immediately set his hand in hers. Electricity leapt through him as his skin touched hers, and she sucked in her breath at the contact. Wariness flashed in her eyes, and Jason sensed she was about to retreat.
No chance.
He wasn’t missing this moment.
He immediately tightened his grip on hers and hauled himself up onto the rock beside her. The peak of the boulder was smaller than he’d expected, bringing them dangerously close to each other. For a moment, neither of them moved. He just stared down at her, and she gazed at him, her brown eyes wide and nervous. Her pulse was hammering in her throat, and he instinctively pressed his index finger on it, trying to ease it down. “Your heart is racing.”
Those dark, expressive eyebrows of hers shot up, and she lifted her chin. “Beautiful sunsets get my adrenaline going.”
“Do they?” They were so close to each other that he could feel the heat from her body. “Shouldn’t they calm your soul and ease the stress from your body?” He moved closer, easing across the boulder. “Are you afraid of me, Astrid? I won’t hurt you.”
She blinked, and he saw doubt flicker across her face again. “Don’t touch me,” she whispered.
Instead of moving his fingers away from her throat, he traced her collarbone. Goosebumps popped up on her skin, and she sucked in her breath.
Awareness leapt through him at her transparent response, at the realization she was as affected by the touch as he was. Sudden desire blasted through him, raw, physical need that leapt straight to his loins. Jason froze, shocked by the pulse of physical need that shot through him. Son of a bitch. He hadn’t responded to a woman in years. Years. “Jesus, Astrid,” he whispered. “What is it about you?”
She shook her head once, her eyes so wide that he could read every nuance of her emotions. Unexpected, powerful desire, coupled with a fear so deep that it came from her soul. Excitement. Anticipation. Uncertainty. Vulnerability. “It’s not me,” she whispered. “It’s you.”
He spread his hand over the back of her neck, basking in the sensation of her skin beneath his palm. She felt so alive, vibrating with life, and yet at the same time, her skin was so delicate and soft that protectiveness surged through him. A need to be the strong male and take care of her, in the way that his former wife had never allowed him to do. His fingers tightened on her neck and he drew her closer. “No. It’s both of us.”
Astrid braced her palm on his chest, blocking him. “Don’t,” she said. “Please, don’t.”
“I can’t help it.” He couldn’t tear her gaze off her eyes, off the myriad of expressions racing through them. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like his soul was screaming with desperation, frantic for one chance, one moment, one kiss with this woman. As if the brush of her lips could save him from the free fall threatening to consume him. “I need to kiss you, Astrid. Now.”
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Select List of Other Books by Stephanie Rowe
(For a complete book list, please visit www.stephanierowe.com)
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
The Wyoming Rebels Series
A Real Cowboy Never Says No
A Real Cowboy Knows How to Kiss
A Real Cowboy Rides a Motorcycle
The Ever After Series
No Knight Needed
Fairy Tale Not Required
Prince Charming Can Wait
The Knight Who Brought Chocolate (Coming Soon!)
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
The NightHunter Series
Not Quite Dead
The Order of the Blade Series
Darkness Awakened
Darkness Seduced
Darkness Surrendered
Forever in Darkness
Darkness Reborn
Darkness Arisen
Darkness Unleashed
Inferno of Darkness
Darkness Possessed
Shadows of Darkness
Hunt the Darkness (Coming Soon!)
The Soulfire Series
Kiss at Your Own Risk
Touch if You Dare
Hold Me if You Can
The Immortally Sexy Series
Date Me Baby, One More Time
Must Love Dragons
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Hot
Sex & the Immortal Bad Boy
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
The Alaska Heat Series
Ice
Chill
Ghost
Stand Alone Novels
Jingle This!
NONFICTION
The Feel Good Life
FOR TEENS
A Girlfriend’s Guide to Boys Series
Putting Boys on the Ledge
Studying Boys
Who Needs Boys?
Smart Boys & Fast Girls
Stand Alone Novels
The Fake Boyfriend Experiment
FOR PRE-TEENS
The Forgotten Series
Penelope Moonswoggle, The Girl Who Could Not Ride a Dragon
Penelope Moonswoggle & the Accidental Doppelganger
Release Date TBD
Collections
Box Sets
Alpha Immortals
Last Hero Standing
Romancing the Paranormal
Stephanie Rowe Bio
USA Today bestselling author Stephanie Rowe is the author of more than 40 novels, including her popular Order of the Blade and NightHunter paranormal romance series. Stephanie is a four-time nominee of the RITA® Award, the highest award in romance fiction. She has won many awards for her novels, including the prestigious Golden Heart® Award. She has received coveted
starred reviews from Booklist, and Publishers Weekly has called her work “[a] genre-twister that will make readers…rabid for more.” Stephanie also writes a thrilling romantic suspense series set in Alaska. Publisher’s Weekly praised the series debut, ICE, as a “thrilling entry into romantic suspense,” and Fresh Fiction called ICE an “edgy, sexy and gripping thriller.” Equally as intense and sexy are Stephanie’s contemporary romance novels, set in the fictional town of Birch Crossing, Maine. All of Stephanie’s books, regardless of the genre, deliver the same intense, passionate, and emotional experience that has delighted so many readers.
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Acknowledgements
Special thanks to my beta readers, who always work incredibly hard under tight deadlines to get my books read. I appreciate so much your willingness to tell me when something doesn’t work! I treasure your help, and I couldn’t do this without you. Hugs to you all! Thanks also to the Rockstars, the best buzz team ever!
There are so many to thank by name, more than I could count, but here are those who I want to called out specially for all they did to help this book come to life: Malinda Davis Diehl, Donna Bossert, Leslie Barnes, Kayla Bartley, Alencia Bates Salters, Alyssa Bird, Jean Bowden, Shell Bryce, Kelley Daley Curry, Ashley Cuesta, Denise Fluhr, Sandi Foss, Valerie Glass, Heidi Hoffman, Jeanne Stone, Rebecca Johnson, Dottie Jones, Janet Juengling-Snell, Deb Julienne, Bridget Koan, Felicia Low, Phyllis Marshall, Suzanne Mayer, Erin McRae, Jodi Moore, Ashlee Murphy, Judi Pflughoeft, Carol Pretorius, Kasey Richardson, Caryn Santee, Summer Steelman, Regina Thomas, and Linda Watson.
Thanks to Nawal M. Nour, M.D. for her advice on babies and pregnant moms, including polling her operating room on whether it was okay for Mira to jump off the rock into the pool, and for Kevin Raskin, M.D. and Sabeena Chacko, M.D., for their advice on prison hospital protocol and the best body part to stab someone in. You gotta love book research! Any mistakes and creative license should be blamed on me, however, and not my favorite doctor peeps, of course.