Nothing is off-limits for this cowboy in USA TODAY bestselling author Charlene Sands’s story of fame and redemption
Jilted by her ex-fiancé, Jessica Holcomb finds refuge at her former brother-in-law’s beachfront Southern California mansion. There she discovers country superstar Zane Williams still hunkering down after the devastating loss of his wife.
These two wounded souls find their easy friendship healing. So Jess’s sudden attraction to Zane comes as a complete shock. Even more shocking, Zane’s acting like a jealous boyfriend, running interference with men who show interest. Is he just being overprotective? The answer becomes clear when Jess ends up in his bed…
“Do you know how incredibly perfect you are?”
Zane’s hands wrapped around Jess’s waist, and thrilling warmth heated her skin. “I’m not.”
“You are. You can’t let what those two did to you change who you are. That guy was the stupidest man on earth. You have every right to feel hurt, Jess. But don’t let what he did change the person that you are.”
“You think that’s what I’m doing?”
“Isn’t it? You changed your hair, your eyes. You dress differently now. Don’t get me wrong, you look beautiful, sweetheart. But you were beautiful before.”
She shrugged. She found it hard to believe.
“I needed the change.” Tears misted in her eyes.
“I get that.” Zane took her into his arms and hugged her, as a friend now. “But promise me one thing?”
“What?”
“Don’t try to find what you need with another man. It makes me crazy.”
* * *
Her Forbidden Cowboy is part of the Moonlight Beach Bachelors series— Three men living in paradise…and longing for more.
* * *
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Dear Reader,
Welcome to my Moonlight Beach Bachelors series! We’re starting off with a bang in Her Forbidden Cowboy with what I know best…cowboys! If you’re an avid reader then you’ve already met Zane Williams, heartbroken country-and-western superstar who was introduced in Redeeming the CEO Cowboy.
Zane is recuperating from an injury on beautiful Moonlight Beach on the Southern California coastline. Away from what’s familiar to him—his career and hometown—he’s healing from physical and emotional wounds when his deceased wife’s little sister comes calling. The next thing Zane knows, he’s knee-deep in desire for Jessica Holcomb, the one woman on the planet who is forbidden to him.
BTW—don’t you think Zane Williams is a great name for a country superstar? Think of a younger George Strait or present-day Luke Bryan. Yep, Zane is that appealing, and I actually fell in love with the name (and cowboy) when my nephew Zane William Pettis was born!
Keep an eye out for reclusive Adam Chase and sexy Dylan McKay in this first story. They will have their own trials and trouble with women on their way to HEA (happily-ever-after) coming in the next two installments of Moonlight Beach Bachelors!
So sit back, relax and enjoy a bit of sunshine on the shores of Moonlight Beach!
Happy reading!
Charlene Sands
HER FORBIDDEN COWBOY
Charlene Sands
Charlene Sands is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than thirty-five romance novels, writing sensual contemporary romances and stories of the Old West. Her books have been honored with a National Readers’ Choice Award, a CataRomance Reviewers’ Choice Award, and she’s a double recipient of the Booksellers’ Best Award. She belongs to the Orange County chapter and the Los Angeles chapter of RWA.
Charlene writes “hunky heroes with heart.” She knows a little something about true romance—she married her high school sweetheart! When not writing, Charlene enjoys sunny Pacific beaches, great coffee, reading books from her favorite authors and spending time with her family. You can find her on Facebook and Twitter. Charlene loves to hear from her readers! You can write her at PO Box 4883, West Hills, CA 91308, or sign up for her newsletter for fun blogs and ongoing contests at charlenesands.com.
Books by Charlene Sands
Harlequin Desire
Moonlight Beach Bachelors Series
Her Forbidden Cowboy
The Slades of Sunset Ranch Series
Sunset Surrender
Sunset Seduction
The Secret Heir of Sunset Ranch
Redeeming the CEO Cowboy
The Worths of Red Ridge Series
Carrying the Rancher’s Heir
The Cowboy’s Pride
Worth the Risk
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To our own Zane William (Pettis), the bright little light in our family. And to his mommy, Angi, and daddy, Kent, with love to all!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Excerpt
One
The heels of Jessica’s boots beat against the redwood of Zane Williams’s sun-drenched deck overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Shielded by the shade of an overhang, he didn’t miss a move his new houseguest made as he leaned forward on his chaise longue. His sister-in-law had officially arrived.
Was he still allowed to call her that?
Gusty breezes lifted her caramel hair, loosening the knot at the back of her head. A few wayward tendrils whipped across her eyes and, as she followed behind his assistant Mariah, her hand came up to brush them away. Late afternoon winds were strong on Moonlight Beach, swirling up from the shore as the sun lowered on the horizon. It was the time most sunbathers packed up their gear and went home and the locals came out. Shirt-billowing weather and one of the few things he’d come to like about California beach living.
He removed his sunglasses to get a better look at her. She wore a snowdrift-white blouse tucked into washed-to-the-millionth-degree jeans and a wide brown belt. Tortoiseshell-rimmed eyeglasses delicately in place didn’t hide the pain and distress in her eyes.
Sweet Jess. Seeing her brought back so many memories, and the frigidness in his heart thawed a bit.
She looked like...home.
It hurt to think about Beckon, Texas. About his ranch and the life he’d had there once. It hurt to think about how he’d met Jessica’s sister, Janie, and the way their small-town lives had entwined. In one respect, the tragedy that occurred more than two years ago might’ve been a lifetime ago. In another, it seemed as if time was standing still. Either way, his wife, Janie, and their unborn child were gone. They were never coming back. His mouth began to twitch. An ache in the pit of his stomach spread like wildfire and scorched him from the inside out.
He focused on Jessica. She carried a large tapestry suitcase woven in muted tones of gray and mauve and peach. He’d given Janie and Jessica matching luggage three years ago on their birthdays. It had been a fluke that both girls, the only two offspring of Mae and Harold Holcomb, were born on the same day, seven years apart.
Grabbing at the crutches propped beside his lounge chair, Zane slowly lifted himself up, careful not to fall and break his other foot. Mariah would have his head if he got hurt again. His casted wrist ached like the devil, but he refused to have his assistant
come running every damn time he wanted to get up. It was bad enough she’d taken on the extra role of nursemaid. He reminded himself to have his business manager give Mariah a big fat bonus.
She halted midway on the deck, her disapproving gaze dropping to his busted wrist and crutches before she shot him a silent warning. “Here he is, Jessica.” Mariah’s peach-pie voice was sweet as ever for his houseguest. “I’ll leave you two alone now.”
“Thanks, Mariah,” he said.
Her mouth pursed tight, she about-faced and marched off, none too pleased with him.
Jessica came forward. “Still such a gentleman, Zane,” she said. “Even on crutches.”
He’d forgotten how much she sounded like Janie. Hearing her sultry tone stirred him up inside. But that’s about all Janie and Jessica had in common. The two sisters were different in most other ways. Jess wasn’t as tall as her sister. Her eyes were a light shade of green instead of the deep emerald that had sparkled from Janie’s eyes. Jess was brunette, Janie blonde. And their personalities were miles apart. Janie had been a risk-taker, a strong woman who could hold her own against Zane’s country-star fame, which might’ve intimidated a less confident woman. From what he remembered about Jess, she was quieter, more subtle, a schoolteacher who loved her profession, a real sweetheart.
“Sorry about your accident.”
Zane nodded. “Wasn’t much of an accident. More like stupidity. I lost focus and fell off the stage. Broke my foot in three places.” He’d been at the Los Angeles Amphitheater, singing a silly tune about chasing ducks on the farm, all the while thinking about Janie. A video of his fall went viral on the internet. Everyone in country music and then some had witnessed his loss of concentration. “My tour’s postponed for the duration. Can’t strum a guitar with a broken wrist.”
“Don’t suppose you can.”
She put down her luggage and gazed over the railing to the shore below. Sunlight glossed over deep steely-blue water as whitecaps foamed over wet sand, the tide rising. “I suppose Mama must’ve strong-armed you into doing this.”
“Your mama couldn’t strong-arm a puppy.”
She whipped around to face him, her eyes sharp. “You know what I mean.”
He did. Fact was, he wouldn’t refuse Mae Holcomb anything. And she’d asked him this favor. It’s huge, she’d said to him. My Jess is hurtin’ and needs to clear her head. I’m asking you to let her stay with you a week, maybe two. Please, Zane, watch out for her.
He’d given his word. He’d take care of Jess and make sure she had time to heal. Mae was counting on him, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Janie’s mother. She deserved that much from him.
“You can stay as long as you like, Jess. You’ve got to know that.”
Her mouth began to tremble. “Th-thanks. You heard what happened?”
“I did.”
“I—I couldn’t stay in town. I had to get out of Texas. The farther, the better.”
“Well, Jess, you’re as far west as you could possibly go.” Five miles north of Malibu by way of the Pacific Coast Highway.
Her shoulders slumped. “I feel like such a fool.”
Reaching out, he cupped her chin, forcing her eyes to his, the darn crutch under his arm falling to rest on the railing. “Don’t.”
“I won’t be very good company,” she whispered, dang near breathless.
His body swayed, not allowing him another unassisted moment. He released her and grabbed for his crutch just in time. He tucked it under his arm and righted his position. “That makes two of us.”
Her soft laughter carried on the breeze. Probably the first bit of amusement she’d felt in days.
He smiled.
“I just need a week, Zane.”
“Like I said, take as long as you need.”
“Thanks.” She blinked, and her eyes drifted down to his injuries. “Uh, are you in a lot of pain?”
“More like, I’m being a pain. Mariah’s getting the brunt of my sour mood.”
“Now I can share it with her.” Her eyes twinkled for a second.
He’d forgotten what it was like having Jess around. She was ten years younger than him, and he’d always called her his little sis. He hadn’t seen much of her since Janie’s death. Cursed by guilt and anguish, he’d deliberately removed himself from the Holcombs’ lives. He’d done enough damage to them.
“Hand up your luggage to me,” he told her. With his good hand, he tucked his crutches under his armpits and propped himself, then wiggled his fingers. If he could get a grip on the bag...
Jessica rolled her eyes and hoisted her valise. “I appreciate it, Zane. But I’ve got this. Really, it’s not heavy. I packed light. You know, summer-at-the-beach kind of clothes.”
She let him off the hook. He would’ve tried, but fooling with her luggage wouldn’t have been pretty. The doggone crutches made him clumsy as a drunken sailor, and he wasn’t supposed to put any weight on his foot yet. “Fine, then. Why don’t you settle in and rest up a bit? I’m bunking on this level. You’ve got an entire wing of rooms to yourself upstairs. Take your pick and spread out.”
He followed behind as she made her way inside the wide set of light oak French doors leading to the living room. “Feel free to look around. I can have Mariah give you a tour.”
“No, that’s not necessary.” She scanned over what she could see of the house, taking in the expanse—vaulted ceilings, textured walls, art deco interior and sleek contemporary furniture. He caught her vibe, sensing her confusion. What was Zane Williams, a country-western artist and a born and bred Texan, doing living on a California beach? When he’d leased this place with the option to buy, he told himself it was because he wanted a change. He was building Zane’s on the Beach, his second restaurant in as many years, and he’d been offered roles in several Hollywood movies. He didn’t know if he was cut out for acting, so the pending offers were still on the table.
She sent him an over-the-shoulder glance. “It’s...a beautiful house, Zane.”
His crutches supporting him, he sidled up next to her, seeing the house from her perspective. “But not me?”
“I guess I don’t know what that is anymore.”
“It’s just a house. A place to hang my hat.”
She gave his hatless head a glance. “It’s a palace on the sea.”
He chuckled. So much for his attempt at humble. The house was a masterpiece. One of three designed by the architect who lived next door. “Okay, you got me there. Mariah found the house and leased it on the spot. She said it would shake the cobwebs from my head. Had it awhile, but this is my first summer here.” He leaned back, darting a glance around. “At least the humidity is bearable and it never seems to rain, so no threat of thunderstorms. The neighbors are nice.”
“A good place to rest up.”
“I suppose, if that’s what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it?”
He shrugged, fearing he’d opened up a can of worms. Why was he revealing his innermost thoughts to her? They weren’t close anymore. He hardly knew Jessica as an adult, and yet they shared a deeply powerful connection. “Sure it is. Are you hungry? I can have my housekeeper make you—”
“Oh, uh...no. I’m not hungry right now. Just a bit tired from the trip. I’d better go upstairs before I collapse right here on your floor. Thanks for having a limo pick me up. And, well, thanks for everything, Zane.”
She rose on her tiptoes, and the soft brush of her lips on his cheek squeezed something tight in his chest. Her hair smelled of summer strawberries, and the fresh scent lingered in his nose as she backed away.
“Welcome.” The crutches dug into his armpits as they supported his weight. He hated the damn things. Couldn’t wait to be free of them. “Just a suggestion, but the room to the right of the stairs and farthest do
wn the hall has the best view of the ocean. Sunsets here are pretty glorious.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her quick smile was probably meant to fake him out. She could pretend she wasn’t hurting all that badly if she wanted to, but dark circles under her eyes and the pallor of her skin told the real story. He understood. He’d been there. He knew how pain could strangle a person until all the breath was sucked out. Hell, he’d lived it. Was still living it. And he knew something about Holcomb family pride, too.
What kind of jerk would leave any Holcomb woman standing at the altar?
Only a damn fool.
* * *
Jessica took Zane’s advice and chose the guest room at the end of the hallway. Not for the amazing sunsets as Zane had suggested, but to keep out of his hair. Privacy was a precious commodity. He valued it, and so did she now. A powerful urge summoned her to slump down on the bed and cry her eyes out, but she managed to fight through the sensation. She was done with self-pity. She wasn’t the first woman to be dumped at the altar. She’d been duped by a man she’d loved and trusted. She’d been so sure and missed all of the telling signs. Now she saw them through crystal clear eyes.
She busied herself unpacking her one suitcase, layering her clothes into a long, stylish light wood dresser. Carefully she set her jeans, shorts, swimsuits and undies into two of the nine drawers. She plucked out a few sleeveless sundresses and walked over the closet. With a slight tug, the double doors opened in a whoosh. The scents of cedar and freshness filled her nostrils as she gazed into a girl cave almost the size of her first-grade classroom back in Beckon. Cedar drawers, shoe racks and silken hangers were a far cry from the tiny drywalled closet in her one-bedroom apartment.
Deftly she scooped the delicate hangers under the straps of her dresses and hung them up. Next she laid her tennis shoes, flip-flops and two pairs of boots, one flat, one high-heeled, onto the floor just under her clothes. Her meager collection barely made a dent in the closet space. She closed the double doors and leaned against them. Then she took her first real glimpse at the view from her second-story bedroom.
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