by Jan Springer
He sighed heavily and winced as her fingers tightened around his wrist where she gripped him while he cupped her luscious breast. Fuck, but she had dammed good strength. Yeah, she was strong. She would survive out here. She’d survive without him. She had to.
* * * *
Teyla knew they were gone the instant she sifted through the heavy layers of sleep that had kept her hostage in a land of black and peace. She swore she’d never slept so deeply. Swore she’d never felt as alive and happy as when she awoke. But then realization that the bed was empty ripped away her happiness and tore her heart apart. Logan was gone and the rest of the money Logan owed her had been settled on the bed beside her so she wouldn’t miss it. Emotions, dark and deep, slashed through her. Loss flooded her and she sobbed into her pillow most of the day and into that night.
But she was strong. She would survive this. She had to.
* * * *
Heart Creek, two days later
“Hands off Teyla Sutton or I cut off your balls. Understood?” Logan breathed against the son of a bitch banker and self-appointed lawman’s ear. The man nodded eagerly, but Logan pressed the barrel of his gun harder against the man’s temple.
“If I ever hear that you’ve been sniffing around her again, word will get back to me. Rest assured if that happens, your balls are mine. This money will pay in full what is owed to you by her. Understood? You stay away from her. Don’t go to her place. Don’t talk to her. Don’t so much as look at her. Understood?”
Again, the man nodded eagerly, his big, pudgy body trembling against Logan. His long moustache tickled the side of Logan’s chin.
Cassidy dropped the satchel of money onto the ground in front of the banker. The satchel contained their entire share of the loot from the heist, minus what he’d left for Teyla. Only moments earlier Logan, Spencer, and Cassidy had dragged the man into the secluded alley after they’d identified the man they’d been looking for.
“Sign this.”
The man hesitated as Logan handed him a pen and thrust a paper in front of the guy’s face.
“W…Where?”
“Use the wall.” Logan nodded to Cassidy and Spencer who were still holding the man’s arms tight, preventing him from escaping. They pushed him up against the wall, and Logan placed the paper where the man had easy reach to it. As he lifted his hand, it shook so badly, Logan feared he might not be able to sign the papers stating Teyla Sutton’s mortgage was all paid off and no one had any further claim on her land. Logan had even gone so far as hiring the local lawyer, some young punk, who looked legitimate enough, to write up the proper legal form. Several townsfolk had vouched for his legitimacy.
Logan held his breath as the creep signed.
“And don’t even think about saying you signed under duress. Or I’ll cut off your cock along with your balls and hang my trophy off the side of my saddle. Understood? Now head back to your office and hire someone to ride out to her place and give her the deed, stating the land is hers, full and clear.”
“Y…yes, sir. Yes, sir,” the man clambered.
“Remember, someone will be watching you. If you do something I don’t like…” Logan let his warning words dangle in the cold night air.
“Y…yes, sir…I…understand.”
Logan nodded again, and Spencer and Cassidy let him go. The banker raced off down the alley, falling twice over his shaking legs and never looking back. Logan didn’t miss the fact a large wet spot appeared between the man legs. Obviously the banker had wet his pants.
Good. The man should be scared.
“Do you think he’ll follow through on your demands?” Cassidy asked as they watched him turn the corner and disappear from sight.
“If he knows what’s good for him,” Logan said coolly. If the weasel so much as did anything to Teyla, Logan would make sure that creep was a dead man.
Epilogue
Eight months later, Valentine’s Day
It was the succulent scent of strawberries that dragged Teyla out of her sleep, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the bunch of daisies, their delicate stems tied together with a cute yellow ribbon, as well as a bowl of robust red strawberries staring her right in the face. At first she thought she was having one heck of neat dream.
Daisies? Strawberries? Impossible. The strawberry plants in her greenhouse were just starting to grow. She’d finally gotten some plants only a couple of weeks ago. Dr. Elizabeth had brought them over, saying the grocery store in town was having a sale on them.
She knew Dr. Liz was lying. That store never had sales. She knew that fact when she went to town with the black horse Logan had left her. The same black horse he’d come to her home with on that chilly evening. But she’d accepted the gift from Liz and planted the strawberry plants, thinking about Logan the whole time. Thinking about how she’d told him she wanted strawberry plants and how she would love to eat some strawberry shortcake.
What a silly, frivolous thing for her to say to him. He must have thought her impractical in mentioning something like that. Especially with this cold winter. She swore it had been the coldest one yet.
Dr. Liz had been doing that a lot. Checking up on her. Bless her heart. Teyla had poured her heart out to Dr. Liz, telling her about Logan and what had happened with Cassidy and Spencer and how devastated she’d been when they’d left. The doctor had been a savior, and Teyla wasn’t sure what she’d have done if she hadn’t had the woman to confide in.
The blow of Logan leaving hadn’t been eased when a couple of days after they’d left, she’d found the deed to her property nailed to her front door, stating her property had been paid in full. She knew in her heart Logan, Cassidy, and Spencer had had something to do with it. Since then, she hadn’t seen the banker come here. The couple of times she’d gone to town, he’d made a big circle around her, avoiding her like the plague. Knowing her property belonged to her was liberating. Knowing she was now in debt to Logan and possibly Spencer and Cassidy should have made her upset. Curiously, it didn’t. She was grateful and considered them her heroes.
Speaking of heroes, what was up with these daisies and the strawberries? Surely she was dreaming. Wasn’t she?
She closed her eyes and opened them again.
Still there.
Had she lost her mind?
Definitely.
She didn’t know how long she stared at the flowers and the strawberries. It couldn’t have been very long, because soon she smelled something else. Smelled him.
No. God couldn’t be so cruel as to have her dreaming about Logan. Not again. She went through this almost every night since he’d been gone. Dreaming he was here.
Movement from the corner of her eyes caught her attention and alarm snapped through her. Someone was here!
Instantly, she reached beneath her pillow, grabbing the loaded gun she kept there for such emergencies. In a split second, she’d palmed it, released the safety catch, and she was halfway up into a seated position, pointing the gun at the movement when she saw the familiar figure standing at the window. He’d opened the curtains and was peering out.
“Logan?” she breathed and blinked wildly, trying to orient herself. This wasn’t possible. She’d given up on him ever coming back. She’d convinced herself it had been a one-way attraction. All hers. She’d figured she’d only romanticized about him because she’d been lonely. Thought he’d paid off her farm because that’s what he did now for a living. Stole from the rich to give to others. She didn’t agree with how she figured the property had been paid for, with stolen money, but what could she do about it? She didn’t want to return to having that bastard showing up at her place whenever he wanted and demanding sex from her again.
Heck, she hadn’t even been able to accept another client into her bed because of Logan.
When he turned from the window and he spied the gun in her hand, his brows rose in surprise.
“I guess I shouldn’t have stayed away so long. It looks like your taste in bed companions has
changed, and not for the better.” He grinned that wonderful, tummy-flipping grin that just about made her leap out of bed and jump into his arms. She stopped herself short, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling and shaking her head.
The man still had a sense of humor. Still sexy-looking as ever in his tight jeans, and this time he wore a light green T-shirt that prominently illuminated the abundance of muscles in his arms and chest. Best of all, he was wearing that gorgeous five o’clock shadow that she loved on his face. He looked so yummy she wanted to have him for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. And always.
She held herself back. Tried not to let the happiness bubble through her like an untapped spring. He was probably only back for sex. And then he’d be gone again. She shouldn’t accept him this time. She should tell him she would pay him back in installments and send him packing. Even as she thought about doing just that, concern whipped through her as he stepped away from the window and closer to her.
“You look tired,” she whispered, stunned at the dark circles hanging beneath his eyes. He looked thinner, too.
“I missed you like you wouldn’t believe. I tried to stay away, but we finally caved and we broke from the Gang.”
We finally caved? What was he talking about? Her mind must still be sleep-muddled because she thought he’d said he missed her.
“When did you come in?”
“Now,” he whispered and he began to undress.
What? What was he saying? Her heart crashed against her chest as a moment later he stood before her, totally naked and fully erect. He lifted the daisies and the plate of strawberries off the pillow and settled them onto the nearby dresser.
“I couldn’t find strawberry shortcake, so I brought the next best thing, strawberries. And since you deserve flowers every morning, I will bring them to you, even if I have to go a hundred miles every day to get them. But all that can wait because I’m coming in, now,” he said as he climbed into bed beside her and took her into his strong arms, crushing her to his strong chest. He held her there for so long she thought maybe he would stay like this forever.
Finally she was able to formulate a semblance of the question she knew she had to ask before she let anything else happen between them. If he came up with the wrong answer, she knew she would have to ask him to leave and never come back.
“How long are you staying?”
“Forever. If you want me to.”
“Spencer and Cassidy?” She knew he loved sharing. Wanted to please him. Wanted more of those scorching ménages she’d experienced with them, too.
“They’ll be by tomorrow, and they won’t be leaving, either.”
She couldn’t have hoped for a better answer.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jan Springer writes erotic romances at her secluded wilderness retreat nestled on four acres in cottage country, Minden Hills, Ontario Canada. Hobbies include kayaking, gardening, hiking, reading and writing. Jan writes full-time and is a member of the Romance Writers of America, Passionate Ink and the Authors Guild. She loves hearing from her readers
Also by Jan Springer
Siren Classic: Her Captive
Available at
BOOKSTRAND.COM
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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