Pinch of Naughty

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Pinch of Naughty Page 15

by Sivad, Gem


  “There will be no more lovers.” She sat up commanding him and though he’d just come, his cock twitched ready for more when her breasts bounced jauntily above him. “Just me, forever. Understand?”

  “Understood,” he agreed. “One opinionated, sassy female is enough for any man.” He pulled her down, draping her over his body, enjoying the feel of her damp skin against his. “You coming home with me today?” His heart thumped anxiously waiting for her answer.

  Before she could reply, a man’s voice called from outside. “Mrs. Lacey, I know you’re in there.”

  “Grandfather’s man is back,” she whispered.

  “To hell with him. You marrying me today?” He ignored the noise, waiting for her to agree. He wasn’t leaving her alone another day to think up more of his flaws.

  “Yes, I’m coming home and this time I want a key to the gate,” she said sharply. “When I left, I felt like I was being locked out of heaven.”

  “A key to the gate, the house, the safe, the bank account and to my heart. I’m all yours, sweetheart. Now let’s go see what that damned fool wants and get this show on the road. You’ve got ranch hands waitin’ for supper at home.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him and Cyrus was pleased to see the dimple reappear in her cheek as they fumbled into their clothes. When the pounding commenced again, he swept her alongside him toward the door, whipping it open and catching the beefy fist, stilling the noise.

  “You’re disturbing the peace,” Cyrus told him, squeezing the other man’s hand until he blanched.

  “Mrs. Lacey, your grandfather needs to see you.” The lawyer’s expression was determined.

  “Tell Mr. Alcott, Mrs. Burke doesn’t need to see him, but will do him the courtesy of meeting with him at Mable’s place in an hour.” Cyrus ended the conversation by shutting the door.

  As soon as the lawyer was out of sight, Cyrus seated Ellie in the buggy and took his place beside her. Planning his negotiations, he slapped the reins smartly and trotted the team to the church.

  The preacher’s voice was loud, carrying to the street where they listened to him exhorting the congregation to resist sin and temptation.

  “Cyrus,” Ellie said. “I know you’re an important man, but the service won’t end for another two hours. How are you going to get the minister to interrupt his sermon?”

  “Watch and learn,” Cyrus answered wryly.

  The minister drove a hard bargain. The wedding cost Cyrus a roof, a new set of steps and the promise of his ass parked in a church pew once a month, but when he ushered Eleanor back through the side door she was his bride.

  * * * * *

  Eleanor’s grandfather was a crusty old goat.

  “You’re Burke.” Alcott’s expression was sour when he looked at Cyrus. “I understand you just bribed the minister to license your relationship with my granddaughter.” He turned a disgusted glance toward Eleanor.

  Cyrus nodded, keeping his mouth shut and his hand away from his gun, since he couldn’t shoot the old man. But he wanted to.

  “Granddaughter, you’ll have to come home to Hartford. There are documents of business that you need to sign to gain control of Lacey’s shares in the bank.”

  “Any papers to be signed will be executed in Uncle Henry’s office here in town after my husband and I have discussed them.”

  Cyrus was proud of the way she stood up to her grandfather. Alcott didn’t take it so well.

  “We don’t have time for this nonsense. Pack your trunks, Eleanor. We’re leaving.”

  “No.” Ellie didn’t waver and though she had things in hand, Cyrus added his support.

  “We’ll be back to town next Wednesday to look over the paperwork and sign if we like the terms. Meanwhile, Henry, explain to Mr. Alcott who he’s doing business with these days.” Cyrus set a course for the exit, avoiding the coming explosion.

  “The problem of William’s partners has been resolved, sir.” Henry said. He called after them as they reached the door. “Mr. Burke, there are also some details about your bank shares we need to discuss when you have time.”

  “What was that all about?” Eleanor asked as soon as they were outside.

  “Just a little account balancing. Henry used some of my money to wipe out the sonovabitches who dragged you through mud.”

  “You destroyed them?”

  “Yep.”

  Eleanor gave him a look tinged with guilt. “I should have warned you. I think my grandfather may have sent Henry to your bank to expand the Alcott Company’s reach.”

  “That he did,” Cyrus agreed amiably. “I planned on bankrupting him too, but now that’s he’s kin, we’ll have to parley.”

  Eleanor pointed at the sign Cyrus had mounted over her store. “Evidently, I’m not the only one who got my Just Desserts.”

  “I don’t know if I deserve you, Ellie, but I’ve sure as hell got you now.” Cyrus lifted her into the buggy before taking his place by her side. “Your uncle’s a smart financial man. I made a lot of money driving those bastards out of business.”

  “Good. Remember that when you furnish my teashop,” she said sedately, snuggling under his arm as she outlined the details she’d already planned.

  “You’ve palmed your bakery off on your aunt. Who the hell’s going to run a new business?”

  “My sisters,” she smiled sweetly, patting his knee. “I think they’ll find Texas quite liberating. They’re coming to live with us—all three.”

  “We’ll negotiate,” he said, settling his arm around Ellie’s shoulders. As she stroked her hand up his thigh and squeezed, Cyrus flicked the reins, driving like hell toward home.

  Epilogue

  “Phoebe is a so intelligent, Cyrus. She’s joined the Hartford Historical Society and spends hours at the library. Grandfather fears she’s in danger of becoming a bluestocking.”

  Cyrus listened to Ellie describe her sisters for the hundredth time that day.

  “Augusta can fix any mechanical device. She’s been plaguing Grandfather to visit France so she can inspect a self-propelled vehicle housed in a museum there.”

  “And your other sister?” From Ellie’s descriptions, Cyrus was expecting three prim and proper misses, rigidly moral members of the cult of true womanhood, just as Eleanor had been before he got his hands on her.

  He studied her. She looked…happy. He sure as hell was. He’d do just about anything to keep things going good.

  “I can’t wait for you to meet Josephine. She’s a talented artist. I’ve asked her to bring her paints and create a lovely landscape for us while she’s here.”

  Ellie had obviously missed her family more than she’d let on. He was bringing the girls to Texas for a while, the while part being undetermined. He’d asked Ellie a couple of times but somehow the conversation always turned to other things, so his recollection of when they were leaving was somewhat vague.

  Old Man Alcott had seemed eager to send them on their way and Ellie’s uncle didn’t have much at all to say about their visit. Recently, though, Henry had been wearing a perpetual look of worry. Cyrus had an uneasy feeling he wouldn’t like why, but unless Henry saw fit to share, whatever the problem was, it didn’t concern Cyrus.

  Over a month ago Henry and his wife, Millie, attended Sunday dinner at the Burke ranch. After he’d eaten two pieces of Ellie’s pecan pie, and had his cup filled with coffee twice, Henry put down his napkin and announced, “Eleanor, thanks to your husband, Mr. Burke, your accusers have been revealed as scoundrels.”

  Cyrus felt a twitch of pride at that. He’d ordered Henry Alcott to go after the assholes financially and in every other way. Ellie’s uncle had been on ‘em like a Bluetick scenting game. Hell, the miscreants never had a chance.

  He’d made a pile of money from ruining the bastards, but that paled next to the way Ellie looked when Henry shared the news. If he lived to be a hundred and five, Cyrus would never forget the way her eyes had shone with unshed tears and she’d gazed at him like he was a
goddamned wonder.

  Regardless of company present, she’d leaned close to him and whispered, “Cyrus Burke, I love you more than Friday night baths.” And his britches had gotten too tight remembering their last foray in the tub upstairs.

  It had occurred to Cyrus, that if Ellie was pining for anything back East, now that she’d been found innocent of all the ugly accusations flying around, she might be considering a visit to her former home. So he decided to bring the Alcott sisters to Texas and nip that impulse in the bud.

  Eleanor Alcott-Burke—her grandfather had insisted on the Alcott addition—and damned if Cyrus hadn’t agreed when Ellie had whispered, “Please.” Cyrus understood that his bride had a family she loved. He wasn’t about to make her regret staying on the ranch with him.

  The train to Paris, Texas should have arrived a half hour earlier but delays weren’t uncommon. He’d brought the buckboard to haul the girls’ fiddle-faddle to the ranch, and Ellie was beside herself with plans for their visit.

  If that didn’t prove how much he wanted to please his woman, nothing ever would. More than one of the boys had hunkered close to ask, “Well, how is it?”

  And, he always answered the same. “Marriage to Ellie? Better than her best dessert.”

  “Shit,” they’d say, and walk away, hungry for a woman of their own.

  Good. Then they’d leave off looking at his wife. He’d hired a cook, built an addition onto the bunkhouse, and installed a kitchen out there just so he could keep her in the ranch house and away from their lecherous eyes.

  He sighed. He’d had it good for better than two months. Aside from the mandated regular visit to the local church, things had been fine. Cyrus rested in bed every night with Ellie exhausted and purring like a kitten beside him. He slept pretty well himself.

  Last night she’d worshipped his body with her mouth, using her tongue in innovative ways. He shifted on the wagon seat, adjusting his shaft as it also remembered and responded accordingly. Cyrus put his hand on Ellie’s thigh and squeezed.

  She turned her head and smiled, lighting up his life. With a sly grin and the dart of her tongue over her sinfully sweet lips, she assured him she remembered last night too.

  He could have drowned in that look and stayed down all day. But the train chugged into the depot and Ellie bounced on the seat like a little girl. She started to scramble from the wagon.

  “Best stay up top with me. You can look over the crowd and find ‘em from here faster.”

  Her expression bordered on mutinous until Henry and Millie arrived in the nick of time to solve that issue. For some unknown reason, they’d carted Mable Smyth along in their back seat.

  Cyrus let Henry hurry through the people milling on the crowded platform. The place was teeming with folks trying to get on board and other folks getting off the train.

  There was no point in him going to meet the passengers since the girls didn’t know him from Adam. And there was no way in hell he’d let Ellie push and shove her way to them. As a matter of fact, he’d never seen the depot this busy.

  “Henry will find them, rest assured, Eleanor. I am looking forward to meeting the dear girls. You’ve spoken of them so highly.” Millie had curled her hair and put on more finery than usual, so Cyrus could tell she considered this a big occasion.

  Good. Cyrus intended to pass a lot of the entertaining over to Millie. Between their aunt and the new tea shop, he planned for the girls’ visit to be smooth, entertaining, and end quickly. Then he’d have Eleanor Alcott-Burke to himself again.

  “There they are,” Ellie shouted, waving her lace hanky in the air.

  And an odd thing happened. The train station quieted, and the jostling men who’d been crowding the platform, all turned in the direction she pointed.

  Cyrus leaned forward, staring hard at two of the cowboys who looked suspiciously like his ranch hands. Hell. They were. And damned if that wasn’t Sage Beckett across the way.

  “What in blazes…”

  “It never hurts to advertise,” Mable muttered and let out a cackle loud enough to make him wince. “I may have mentioned to a few customers at the store that Mrs. Burke’s unmarried sisters would be arriving today.”

  “And I said a word or two about my visitors when we went to church two Sundays ago,” Ellie admitted, a sparkle in her eye.

  “I’ve instructed Henry to make a list of all the eligible bachelors in the area. As you should as well, Cyrus. You have a greater reach. We’ll need your assistance.”

  “I need to what?” he growled at Henry’s wife.

  “We’ll meet and vet all the men with the making of the first match. The second and third will be much easier since we’ll know already who to pursue.”

  Cyrus resisted the urge to jump from his wagon and flee on foot. Managed. He was being managed by two, no, make that three, women. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Henry had three more in tow, ushering them his way.

  “Are you all right, Cyrus?” Eleanor leaned closer and gazed at him from those pretty lavender eyes he never got enough of. Her sweet expression was filled with concern.

  “Fine. I’m wonderful.” Never mind that he had to choke out the words. Hell no, he wasn’t all right. But, then again, maybe he was. The way she said his name made him feel warm inside. Loved.

  Cyrus brushed his lips over Ellie’s forehead, getting a last taste of her before her sisters staked their claim. He slid his arm around her waist, holding her close as they stood in the wagon and watched Henry escort the three Alcott misses their way.

  Yep, prim and proper. Cyrus sighed. He just hoped Ellie wouldn’t decide to lady-up as well.

  Then Henry lost control of the situation as one girl broke away from the sedate trio, picked up her skirts, and began to run. In less than a moment, all three raced flat out across the train platform, whooping like banshees and bellowing at the top of their lungs.

  “Ellie. We’re here!”

  The End

  From the Author

  Hi. I’m Gem Sivad. My pen name represents my dual-personality. I’m dull as ditch-water in real life, with a “yours, mine, and ours” family of five kids, and a full time husband who keeps me grounded (most of the time).

  But my author side lives in the southern part of an enchanted kingdom where she enjoys the slow pace of life that gives her time to study the world and imagine incredible adventures.

  Gem’s sexy, gritty romances, usually contain more than a pinch of naughty and definitely include a splash of fun.

  Although she has hermit tendencies, occasionally she comes out of the writer’s den to meet readers at book signing events. Hope you see her there. But in case you miss each other, you can find Gem at the cyber locations below.

  For book release updates (or if you’re an avid Words with Friends junkie like she is) hang out with Gem on Facebook @ facebook.com/GemSivadAuthor.

  Visit the Gem Sivad website @ gemsivad.com for snippets from the current works in progress. And of course, by subscribing to Dreamcatcher newsletter@ http://gemsivad.com/subscribe/ you’ll never miss a Gem Sivad contest or giveaway.

  Nice meeting you,

  Gem Sivad

  More Books by Gem Sivad

  Historical Westerns

  Unlikely Gentlemen series:

  River’s Edge

  Outrageous Pride

  Cerise Amour

  Eclipse Heat series:

  Quincy’s Woman

  Perfect Strangers

  Wolf’s Tender

  Tupelo Gold

  Five Card Stud

  Breed True

  Trouble in Disguise

  Whispering Grace

  Historical Paranormal

  Jinx series:

  Cat Nip

  Blood Stoned

  Contemporary Paranormal

  Bitter Creek Holler series:

  Call Me Miz

  Miz Spelled

  Ursus Horribilis

  Contemporary Romantic Suspense

  Smoke, Inc. ser
ies

  Cowboy Burn

  Rhythm

  Cowboy Burn, a Smoke, Inc. Excerpt.

  Blurb: Five days after Christmas, when the bills are pouring in and the joy’s already escaped, Harley-Jane Arthur has a plan. Use her artistic talent as entertainment at an upscale kids' party, make enough money to pay January utilities, and maybe have some cash left over for her barn roof repairs. After that, she’ll buy a bottle of Red and toast New Year's Eve as usual—alone.

  But... after she leaves for the party, the balmy weather turns to rain, which turns to sleet, then ice, then snow. Janie’s stuck in a blizzard with no trains, planes, or Uber. Then her luck changes. While trying to grab a taxi, she unwittingly sees a murder, after which she skids on her cheap boots that have no purchase, down an icy road, landing in a heaping pile of love.

  Gable Matthews, a.k.a. Cowboy, has been waiting patiently these last few years for Harley-Jane to wake up from grieving for her husband. When she's stranded during a snowstorm, he figures this might be his chance to get her attention.

  Snowbound together, Gable and Janie discover passion hot enough to melt the ice. But nothing comes easy for them. There’s an unpredictable snow storm, a wonky furnace, and a taxi-cab-stealing killer, all trying to interfere with their love.

  Chapter One

  Yes, that’s me making that noise, starving artist, Harley-Jane Arthur. I tried to quiet the impolite rumble of my stomach but it wasn’t cooperating. I’d passed on the cake earlier for fear I’d smear icing on my work. I regretted it now.

  “Thank you so much. I think Carlie will agree, you’ve made this an unforgettable party.” John Carson, my employer for the day, helped me into my coat after handing me a plump envelope.

 

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