by Maisey Yates
“Breathe,” Clay said in his deep, rich voice, a glint of amusement sparkling in his eyes. “You look as though you’re about to pass out. I thought I remembered hearing you say you love to dance.”
“I do. Just not here.” And not with you, the president and founder of a billion-dollar corporation and Royal’s most eligible bachelor. His presence alone was enough to make everyone sit up and take notice, but those broad shoulders and incredible good looks caused the crowd to part and make way for him. A few smiled at her sincerely, while others smirked in that condescending manner that only someone in her position could recognize and understand. Isn’t Clay being kind to his poor little secretary? How thoughtful of him. Sophie could read their minds without much effort at all.
“And what’s wrong with here?”
“If you don’t know, I won’t waste my breath trying to explain it to you.”
He chuckled, a sexy sound that drew more looks from all the women within hearing distance. Instead of allowing them to negatively affect her mood, she closed her eyes and let herself be swept into the music. The ballad was one of her favorites. With Clay’s arms around her, they danced to the slow rhythm. He smelled so good. His silken tux jacket felt smooth against her cheek. At some point the song ended and Sophie made a move to return to the small table in the back of the great hall.
“No,” he said, his warm breath on her ear. And before she could argue, another song started. He dropped her hand and held her with both arms around her waist, pulled her closer until she could feel every movement, every pulse inside a hard body laden with muscles. More muscles than she’d ever felt on a guy. She didn’t know what he did in his spare time, or if such a thing existed for him, but she would bet it wasn’t sitting around knitting sweaters.
One thing was clear: he was aroused, a fact that became more obvious by the minute. With every slow step, side to side, he brushed up against her, driving her crazy. A fog of heat enveloped her as she fought to dispel her own body’s reaction to his. She was on fire. Her hands clutched his broad shoulders and she drifted back into a dreamworld of his making, letting the mute chemistry between them intensify.
Clay was a cowboy through and through. It was in his stride, his way of talking. It was in those emerald eyes, so piercing they could cut her up into tiny little pieces. And in those full lips just waiting to gobble up and savor each one. The years away from the rodeo arena couldn’t take away the cowboy. Even the night the two-ton bull had turned an evening at the rodeo into a nightmare from hell, almost ending his life, couldn’t take that away from him.
The doctors had said he would never walk again, but they didn’t know Clay. He had surprised everyone. Everyone except Sophie, who knew he was a man who just didn’t quit. Ever. After the injuries he’d sustained and the months of grueling physical therapy, it was a pure miracle he was here at all. And he’d astounded everyone tonight when he’d put aside his cane and taken to the dance floor, ignoring the limp and the pain that accompanied it.
His life had previously played out on the rodeo circuit, his talent propelling him to celebrity. Luckily for him—and those around him who jumped on board a good thing—Clay’s talent didn’t end when his rodeo career did. Today he was a successful entrepreneur, changing his star status from millionaire to billionaire in only five short years. That was just the kind of man he was. If he could imagine it, he could make it materialize. If he wanted it, he got it. And apparently, right now, tonight, he wanted her.
Slowly his hands slid down her back, coming to rest above the surge of her hips, pulling her even closer to him. The feel of his arousal propelled her body to an immediate and impulsive response. She heard his low groan, his breath warm against her ear.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said in a voice that sounded more like a growl as the third song ended. Without waiting for a reply, he took her hand and led her through the dancing couples toward the exit. When he summoned the elevator, the doors opened almost immediately with a muffled ding. After stepping inside, Clay pushed a button that sent the elevator skyrocketing to the penthouse suite, which he’d rented for tonight, just before he gathered her in his muscled arms.
Sophie had been kissed before but never like this. It was raw, passionate, hungry. His tongue traced the line of her lips, moistening them for penetration. He filled her then, his hand clenching her hair in the back, holding her head exactly where he needed her to be. He was so male. The scars that remained from the near-death accident only served to increase his air of desirability. Even in broad daylight they seemed to highlight a dangerous edge.
He had spent his life dueling with the devil and in spite of impossible odds, he had come out on top. Every time except the last. Even then, Clay had pulled his raw courage from some place deep inside and survived when any other man would have rolled over and admitted defeat. It was part of that rock-hard determination that she felt now, in his arms, his emerald eyes giving off signals as to just what he intended to do to her when they reached his bedroom.
At some point the doors opened with an almost silent swish and they stepped out of the elevator into a vestibule with marble floors and occasional tables laden with huge bouquets of freshly cut flowers. Beyond a black door, highlighted with gold paint, was the penthouse. He guided her through the door with a single-minded purpose. And a few steps beyond that door was the master suite. It was in his face, in his eyes—he was going to make love to her.
And she was going to let him.
This is wrong, said the small voice in her head. So very wrong. He was her boss. Their relationship should be kept strictly platonic. But as she followed him toward the bedroom, the word no disappeared from her vocabulary.
“Would you care for something to drink?”
She shook her head. If she was really going to do this, she wanted nothing to mar the memory of this night in his arms. It was a once-in-a-lifetime moment that could never be discussed or thought of again except in her dreams.
He turned a switch and the lights dimmed. He pressed her backward against a wall and his hungry lips again found hers. His shirt and jacket hit the floor before he turned all his attention to her. Leaning over, he kissed her ear, alternately nipping and kissing down her throat until he returned to her mouth, his tongue filling the deep recesses until she couldn’t suppress the moan that emerged from deep in her throat. She knew a moment of freedom from the constraints of her strapless gown as it slid down her body to the floor—
* * *
“Sophie?” Clay’s deep voice brought her out of the daydream. “Sophie! Hello? Are you okay?”
A heated blush ran up her neck and over her face as reality came slamming back. She was seated at her desk, staring blindly at her monitor while the phones rang and Clay called her name. She had to get a grip on this. She kept reliving their one night of passion, first in her dreams, then during the day while she was at work. It had to stop. They were attracted to each other but that night had been over two months ago and it would not be repeated. They never discussed it—as far as Clay was concerned, it was as though it had never happened. It was past time to let it go and move on.
“Yes. Ah...yes. Yep. I’m fine.”
“I’ve been calling your name for five minutes. Are you sure you feel up to working today?”
“Yes. Really, I’m good.” She struggled for composure and cleared her throat. If he had any idea of her wayward thoughts, he would never let her live it down. “I just have a slight headache. I’ll be fine,” she lied and reached for the phone.
Clay laid a file folder on her desk with a sticky note attached bearing instructions. Then pursing his lips as though hiding a smile, he walked out the door.
Sophie hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath and released it now in a sigh. It was almost as if he knew what she’d been thinking. Impossible. He couldn’t read minds. Could he?
*
* *
Clay Everett stood in the massive glass-walled lobby of the main barn at the Flying E Ranch. Around him were countless pictures and awards. There were oversize belt buckles with gold and silver inlays displayed in black velvet-lined shadow boxes. Trophies and large silver cups were arranged on the mantel of the enormous natural-stone fireplace. Still more lined the bookcases around the large room. The walls held dozens of pictures showing action shots of various bulls and horses as they tried with all their might to tear their equally determined rider off their back. If you looked at some closely enough, you could hear the angry cries of the animal, see the fury in its eyes. But the grit and determination in the rider’s eyes were fiercer. For the bull, it was eight seconds to kill. For the cowboy, it was eight seconds to walk away a champion.
In the corners of the glass foyer there were silver-embedded saddles on their holding racks with matching bridles hanging over the horn. Amid the trophies were older pictures of a young boy: riding his first bull, roping his first calf, his legs barely reaching the shortened stirrups of the saddle. The largest picture in the room was of a man holding up a two-by-six-foot check, made payable to Clayton Everett in the sum of one million dollars and proclaiming him American Rodeo Champion. Standing next to him were his barn manager, George Cullen, and Sophie Prescott, his secretary and maybe his best friend in the world.
It had been Sophie’s idea to move his office to the ranch. At least temporarily. But temporary had turned into permanent after almost two years. Sophie had overseen the move and, as usual, he couldn’t help but be impressed. He’d slid into the burgundy leather chair behind the massive mahogany desk like it was still at the high-rise in Dallas. Everything, from files to computers to office equipment to Sophie’s office, had been set up almost exactly the way it had been at the other location. He could find his way around the new office blindfolded.
Sophie had done it all while he was still in the hospital, his gut torn open by an angry bull named Iron Heart, his left leg shattered by pounding hooves as, in the blink of an eye, he was thrown from the animal and gorged before landing squarely on his head, the compression causing him to break his neck, barely missing his spinal cord. It had taken less than six seconds, from the moment the chute door opened to the crack he heard from within and sweet oblivion, which brought his days as a superstar in the Professional Bull Riding League to an end. It was a bull he’d known would someday come his way. It was inevitable. Nothing went on forever.
He wandered out of the foyer area, down the main hall to the east wing. After climbing a few steps of the bleachers that overlooked one of the outside arenas and the sloping fertile pastureland beyond, he sat down, marveling at the view all around him. He would never tire of it. Rolling hills, the few that existed in this area, and white pipe fencing as far as the eye could see. In the distance a herd of longhorns grazed on the irrigated spring grasses. In the first part of October, hundreds of breeders of Texas longhorn cattle would gather at the Lazy E Arena in Guthrie, Oklahoma, to find out who owned bragging rights to the bull with the longest horns in the world. Word had reached him that his ten-year-old bull Crackers had horns three-tenths of an inch longer than his chief competitor. That should have made Clay happy. But there was more to life than watching horns grow on a damn cow. No one knew it better that he did.
Clay had to accept that his rodeo days were over and his life was going to change. Hell, it already had. Once he’d been released to come home, it had taken a month of prodding by the stubborn, unshakable, relentless Ms. Sophie to get up off his ass—or words to that effect—and do something. Clay had started tinkering around with some ideas, found one he liked and thrown himself into building a new business—a cloud computing company he named Everest that took off like a rocket, making him a multimillionaire almost overnight with no indication it was anywhere near slowing down. He did it partly to keep his mind off the injuries that were still healing and partly because that was the way he was: a self-made man and risk-taker by nature. And Sophie never let him forget it for a second. He loved nothing more than a challenge, regardless of whether it was a two-thousand-pound Brahma bull or a billion-dollar company. A challenge was still a challenge.
His latest challenge: Sophie Prescott.
As if on cue, she popped her head around the corner.
“I thought I would find you here. What do you want for lunch?”
When he merely shook his head, she said, “Then I’ll have Rose grill a steak and throw some sides together. It should be ready in about thirty minutes.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“That’s too bad. You’ve got to eat. Nothing good is going to come out of you sitting around with your head in the clouds.”
“I was thinking, not daydreaming.”
“Thinking, huh? I’ll bet. More than likely thinking about that old bull and how you would do it better if you had a second chance.”
He glared. “I’ll be in for lunch in a few.”
She tapped her watch as a silent way of saying she would expect him sooner than later.
Damn, she was beautiful. For reasons he couldn’t understand, she chose to tone down her natural beauty, pulling the amber hair into a ponytail and using very little, if any, makeup. Not that she needed any. Her sky blue eyes couldn’t hide behind the glasses always perched on her nose. And those full, slightly pink lips... A man could lose himself in them.
And he had done exactly that almost two months ago, the night of the Texas Cattleman’s Club masked ball held at the Bellamy Hotel.
Sophie had always been there for him as a loyal employee and true friend. When his accident brought out the true colors of his money-grubbing fiancée, who promptly dumped him, rage had often filled him. But even when he lashed out, Sophie never batted an eye. He owed her his life. That was a fact no one could dispute. And that made her even more tempting than she’d ever been before.
The problem? She was more off-limits than ever, too.
But even as they do their best to forget it, that one night Clay and Sophie shared will have repercussions to last a lifetime...leading to a scandal that will rock Royal, Texas.
Don’t miss LONE STAR BABY SCANDAL by Lauren Canan, a TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: BLACKMAIL novel available July 2017 from Harlequin Desire.
Copyright © 2017 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781460397916
Down Home Cowboy
Copyright © 2017 by Maisey Yates
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