Scoundrel

by Rebecca Goings

  Carnal Passions Presents

  Scoundrel

  By

  Rebecca Goings

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Carnal Passions

  A Division of Champagne Books

  www.carnalpassions.com

  Copyright 2011 by Rebecca Goings

  ISBN 9781926996264

  June 2011

  Cover Art by Amanda Kelsey

  Produced in Canada

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Carnalpassions.com (or the retailer of your choice) and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Other Books By Rebecca Goings

  The Viper Prince

  The Scarab Prince

  The Falcon Prince

  The Spider Prince

  The Jackal Prince

  Dedication

  For one of the most dedicated, selfless, and loving women I know—my mother-in-law Luann. May her shining example of unfailing love ever be an inspiration to me and to my children.

  I love you, Mom.

  One

  Gideon’s Gulch, TX, 1876

  Shirley Bloom slapped the man before her, and the sharp crack echoed off the surrounding buildings. Her hand stung to high heaven but she stood her ground, her cheeks flaring with heat from the man’s audacity. He’d questioned her chastity, and for the sake of her own pride, she was not about to let him get away with it.

  His ice-blue eyes had widened when he’d stumbled back from the force of her blow. But now, he gazed at her with a cocked brow and a handsome grin, rubbing his face and looking like he was imagining her naked.

  Considering his previous words, she blushed to the roots of her hair.

  “How dare you, sir?” she squealed, uncaring that her voice drifted on the wind. A few folks on the boardwalk stopped their stroll to watch the scene unfold in the middle of Main Street.

  Shirley crossed her arms in front of her in an effort to keep her decency, although she was properly dressed. His eyes, however, seemed to gaze right through her fine Sunday skirts.

  “My apologies, ma’am,” he said, smirking from ear to ear. “A man hears some things and simply assumes. Meant no harm.”

  “Meant no harm?” Shirley’s mouth dropped open. His words seemed sincere, however the look on his face was anything but. He wasn’t repentant in the least!

  Lifting her chin, she attempted to look down at him, but that was impossible with him towering over her.

  The man tipped his hat and took a step away. “Good day, ma’am,” he said in a low, sultry voice. He began to walk away before Shirley had fully comprehended his words.

  “Wait just a moment!” she yelled, trotting to keep up with his long strides. “You said you’ve heard some things. Things about me? What kind of things?”

  “Things a supposedly well-bred woman such as yourself shouldn’t hear. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “We most certainly will not leave it at that.” Reaching out her hand, Shirley clutched onto his shirtsleeve and yanked, which made him spin around and face her once more. His expression was stony, and she usually would shy away from a man spitting bullets, but her anger had overcome her common sense. She simply had to know what this scoundrel heard about her.

  His look darkened and a shiver of fear raced down her spine. But she’d come this far—she was not about to back down now.

  Shirley gasped when the man advanced on her, forcing her back until she came up hard against the railing of the boardwalk in front of her father’s general store.

  “Get your hand off me, woman, or I’ll simply take what I asked you for.”

  Her eyes rounded at his words and she swallowed hard. “You wouldn’t dare,” she challenged, snatching her hand away as if she’d touched a flame.

  He grinned, but his smile wasn’t one of mirth. It was calculating. Cold. “Is that so?” he asked, challenging her right back.

  Shirley found her backbone and stood up straight. “My father Chuck Bloom owns this store and is well-respected in this town, and my sister’s husband is the sheriff. You so much as think about…about…kissing me,” she spat. “I’ll make sure the fires of hell rain down upon you.”

  “Sassy little thing, ain’t ya?” The man’s grin finally reached his eyes and he pushed his hat higher up on his head.

  “Who told you I was a…?” Shirley lowered her voice after looking left and right. “Loose woman?”

  The man leaned in close then looked down at her bosom. Shirley’s breathing was erratic. She needed to run away from this man. Far away. He was too handsome for his own good, and the words of seduction he’d spoken to her a moment ago seemed to hang in the air between them.

  “Lucky guess.”

  Outraged, Shirley raised her hand to slap him once more, but his firm grip on her wrist stopped her hand from flying. “How dare you?” she cried again.

  He smiled. “You’re spittin’ a lotta fire today, lady. You remind me of a hot-headed filly I broke a while back. Truth is, no woman’s ever turned me down.”

  “Get used to disappointment.”

  He chuckled, and damn her stomach, but it leapt at the sound. His sandy-blond hair poked out from underneath his hat, just barely curling at his nape. His wondrous gaze seemed to pin her to the spot. She’d never seen him before in the Gulch. Perhaps he was just passing through. That thought gave Shirley courage and she set her jaw.

  The man narrowed his eyes. “That a challenge, little filly?”

  Her eyes widened. “It most certainly is not!”

  He moved his body closer to hers. She had nowhere to go. He’d trapped her between the water trough and the railing of the boardwalk.

  “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I know exactly where to touch a woman to make her scream my name.”

  Shirley couldn’t stop her nipples from hardening any more than she could harness the wind. The heat of the day finally seemed to press down on her and she had no doubt her cheeks were now stained a permanent pink. The audacity of the man!

  Swallowing hard, she cleared her throat before answering. “Then I have nothing to fear. I don’t know your name.” He seemed to find her look of triumph amusing. Or perhaps he smiled at the slight tremor in her tone.

  “My name’s Luke,” he said, his voice as soft as silk. “Luke Austin.”

  “And I’m sure I don’t care,” she answered, attempting to push him away. He was like a rock, not to be moved. Shirley panicked. He wouldn’t dare kiss her for any and all to see, would he? She should have let him walk away from her when he’d tried.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” he asked.

  “Hadn’t planned on it.”

  Half of his mouth curled upward. After a moment of silence, he whispered, “My offer still stands.”

  Shirley gave him a scathing glare. She was about to upbraid him once more, but he spoke again, interrupting her indignation.

  “You know what I did with that filly?” he asked, dipping his head. His breath was hot upon her cheek and his e
yes demanded she stare deep into them. They were ringed with dark lashes and full of mischief. “I straddled her, took her between my legs and rode her with a firm hand until she surrendered to me.”

  “I’d rather die than let you touch me.” Shirley groaned at the look of determination in his gaze. She had a sinking feeling he’d taken her words as a challenge.

  “Be careful what you wish for, Shirley Bloom.”

  “How…how did you know…?”

  Luke winked at her before stepping back, allowing her some air. Just then, Shirley spied Christopher Robinson, the son of the pastor, crossing the dirt road toward the nearby steps of the boardwalk. He was handsome in his own right, always looking pristine, not a hair or an article of clothing out of place. And he’d been coming to call on her ever since her sister Lissa’s wedding to Marcus McCaide.

  He was young, just about her age, unlike Luke, who appeared a few years older. Judging by Luke’s wrinkled clothing and the guns riding low on his hips, he didn’t much care what he looked like. But that didn’t take away from his obvious good looks. Luke had a confident, arrogant swagger about him. But Christopher was polite. Safe.

  Not dangerous in the least.

  “Christopher!” she called out, raising her hand. Her heart slammed to life as she pulled away from Luke and dashed across the road.

  “Shirley,” he answered, nodding politely. “My, my, would you look at you? How long have you been in the sun, my dear? We must get you inside. Your cheeks are flushed.”

  She pressed her hands to her cheeks and chanced a glance over her shoulder where she’d been held captive by a virile, sexy gunslinger. But Mr. Luke Austin was nowhere to be found. Shirley swallowed hard and tried not to tremble like a leaf in the wind.

  “Yes, I believe I must sit down for a spell.”

  Accepting Christopher’s outstretched arm, she allowed him to lead her into her father’s store. Despite his waiting on her hand and foot, the rest of the afternoon was a blur.

  She couldn’t get the image of that odious man with his eyes flashing sinful promises out of her head.

  Two

  Shirley sighed as she swept the shop. Her father’s joints had been bothering him more than they ever had before, and she’d been tasked with keeping the store clean from top to bottom. These were the days she lamented that her sister had married last summer. Before Marcus McCaide had breezed through town, Shirley had been able to get out of working and cleaning, but not anymore.

  Now there was no one else to help around the shop, not since Marcus had become the sheriff of Gideon’s Gulch. Lissa visited on occasion, but never long enough to do anything more than help a few customers find their wares. She was heavily pregnant, and her husband insisted she take things easy. And now with their father laid up, stocking the shelves had fallen on Shirley’s shoulders.

  She had once prided herself on being the prettiest girl in the Gulch, but not anymore. Her hair hung in limp coils from her messy bun and her dresses were worn and ratty. She’d once done chores in her fine clothes, but soon learned the stains were not worth it. After awhile, the men of town had stopped coming around her father’s shop, preferring instead to patronize the mercantile up the road. And that meant less sales and less money. More than a few times her father mentioned selling the store, but then what would they do?

  If Christopher would only propose, she could live as the wife of the pastor’s son, who was being groomed by his father to take over the congregation. No longer would she have to worry about the shop and her father could sell it. Maybe Chuck could live with her or with Lissa.

  But Christopher had been calling on her for almost a year now. If he had been thinking of marriage, he would have proposed by now. Most of Shirley’s previous suitors had proposed within weeks of knowing her. She’d turned them all down, claiming she hadn’t yet found the love of her life. She knew Christopher didn’t fit her ideal of the perfect husband, but right about now, she was desperate.

  No other man had turned his head in her direction in a long while.

  No other man, that is, but Luke Austin. And that man was a cad.

  Tears stung her eyes. He said he’d heard things about her. Shirley wondered what he’d heard and knew her days as a sought-after bride were over. Was it true people were making up stories about her? Spreading rumors that she was willing to… She wouldn’t think it. She refused to.

  The bristles of the broom hit the floor with such force, Shirley marveled she didn’t break them. She’d once dreamed of being the wife of a wealthy rancher or a banker who would pamper her and love her like Marcus loved her sister. Every time she saw them together, her heart hitched at the obvious affection they shared. She wanted the same for herself.

  Perhaps the love of her life had been one of the various men she’d selfishly turned down. One thing was for sure—she would never know.

  Shirley stopped sweeping and rested her forehead on her hands that clutched the broom. Her father was upstairs, but she might as well be alone. The shop was empty.

  Her thoughts drifted to Luke. She hadn’t seen him since Sunday. But lordy, the things that man said! Who did he think he was? Shirley remembered how her fingers pushed against his solid chest in an effort to move the man. He hadn’t yielded. Even the skin under his shirt had been hard. Her heart quickened at the memory.

  She’d never known another man like him. She had a feeling he wasn’t one to back away from a challenge. And she’d challenged him more than once. But his words shocked her. He’d asked her to come back to his hotel room with him. He’d asked her to give him a taste right there on the road to sample the goods. Slapping him for assuming she was a soiled dove had been the least he’d deserved.

  But in the days—and nights—that followed his unholy proposition, Luke Austin wouldn’t get out of her head. He’d brazenly told her his offer still stood, and heaven help her, she wanted to know exactly how he could get her to scream his name.

  Lissa had tried to explain the rapture of making love on more than one occasion, and Shirley had often dreamt about it. But until now, she’d never put a face to the man she’d fantasized about making love to. Often Christopher came into her thoughts, but she couldn’t imagine him with a wrinkle in his trousers, much less naked.

  But Luke… That man conjured all kinds of sinful imaginings. She wondered if he made love as ruthlessly as he’d advanced on her the other day. He’d trapped her because she’d riled him and she should have been frightened, but it had been excitement coursing through her veins, not fear.

  And she’d never been so excited in her life.

  “You missed a spot.”

  Shirley jumped and shrieked at the same time, not expecting the masculine voice that had spoken almost directly in her ear. But in her surprise, she’d released the broom and stepped on the bristles, nearly sending herself careening into the nearby sacks of feed.

  An arm hooked around her waist from behind, effectively stopping her fall by dragging her against a rock-hard chest.

  “Easy there, filly,” the voice said. “I’ve got you.”

  She sucked in her breath. It was Luke! And he was holding her much longer—and tighter—than necessary.

  Wriggling out of his grasp, Shirley turned to face him with a scowl. He treated her to his handsome grin. He wasn’t wearing his hat, and his golden hair fell around his face in waves. For a moment, she was struck by the sight of him and drank him in from head to toe. Her mouth went dry while her palms began to sweat. Too much silence had passed for her to effectively give him what for, so instead, she backed away and watched while he bent to pick up her abandoned broom.

  “Didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said casually as he straightened. He offered the broom to her. “Thought you’d heard the bell on the door.”

  Shirley groaned. She’d been so lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t heard him enter. With two steps, she snatched the broom out of his hand. “I was…thinking.”

  “Musta been some mighty deep thou
ghts to keep you from hearing my spurs janglin’.” The man gave her a calculating grin, looked her up and down, and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his denims.

  “Yes, well,” she said with a sniff. “My father has been under the weather lately.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied, his tone giving truth to his words. “You all right?”

  Shirley closed her eyes. In all the times she’d spoken with Christopher about her ill father, he’d never once asked about her own well-being. She nodded. “Most days.”

  She walked around him to the counter at the rear of the store then propped the broom against the wall. “What can I do for you?” When she turned to face him, she suddenly realized by his look alone that those probably hadn’t been the wisest words to say to Luke Austin.

  He slowly approached her, and with every step he took, she was painfully aware of the loud clank of his spurs. How had she possibly missed that noise? The air in her lungs left in a rush when he stopped on the other side of the counter and propped his hands against it. He leaned over the counter and cocked his head—still gazing at her, square in the eye.

  “For starters, you can stop looking at me like I’m gonna bite you. I only bite women who are gasping beneath me.”

  Shirley’s jaw dropped and her heart slammed to life. Her hand flew to her chest in a futile effort to calm her raging emotions.

  Luke winked. “Then again, I might bite you yet, filly.”

  “You…you shouldn’t say such things, sir,” she said, trying to muster her indignation.

  “Why not? I’m bein’ honest.”

  “It’s not proper.”

  “Perhaps not,” he answered. “But I find propriety to be useless outside them fancy cities they have back east. Honesty and tellin’ it like it is, that’s what keeps a man alive in the West. Ain’t got no time for beating around the bush.”