Lee: Devils on Horseback, Book 4

by Beth Williamson

  Bernard rose as they approached. “Genny, can I talk to you?”

  “Only with me next to her.” Lee glared at the man until he nodded.

  “Of course, of course. I just wanted to ask if it was all right with you if I stayed here in Tanger? I don’t have anything left in New Orleans, and well, this seems like a nice place to live.” Bernard sounded so hopeful, even Lee felt himself waver.

  “I think that would be wonderful.” Genny turned to Lee. “Maybe he could work at the restaurant or the mill?”

  Lee wanted to tell the man no, but it would have been damn rude. Genny was the voice of reason, and that’s why they fit so well together. Her reason cancelled out his anger.

  “Really? I appreciate it, Mr. Blackwood.” Bernard held out a hand to Lee.

  “Fine.” Lee refused, however, to shake the man’s hand. “I’m gonna tell you something right now and you need to remember this. If Sirius Coddington shows up in Tanger ever, I will hold you personally responsible. They will never find your body. You understand me?” He leaned in close enough to see the twitch in the other man’s cheek as he absorbed Lee’s threat.

  “Yes, sir. I promise you, I didn’t tell and I won’t.” Bernard turned his gaze to Genny. “I promise.”

  Genny smiled at him. “Thank you. Now go on inside and I’ll be right there.” She turned her back on Bernard and pulled Lee over to the side of the mill. The wheel was running and the spray of water, the thunder of the movement, echoed in Lee’s chest.

  She held his hand in hers and looked up into his eyes. “I wanted two minutes alone with you. This has been the strangest, hardest two days of my life and that’s saying a lot. You’ve stood by my side through the entire thing, believing in me, trusting me. I wanted to say thank you, to tell you that I love you so much it makes my heart nearly burst.” Her voice caught on the last words and tears twinkled in her eyes.

  Lee kissed the back of her hand then the ring on her finger. “You know, I think somewhere up in heaven my mother is looking down on her baby boy and smiling. Her ring was meant for your hand and I hope you’ll wear it forever.” He blinked away tears of his own. “I know I ain’t fancy or handsome and my skills are limited to numbers and getting angry, but I love you too, Genny.”

  He pulled her close, feeling her heart beat against his. Lee had never felt such peace.

  Their wedding night was two days late, but it arrived just the same. Genny was nervous, if that were possible. Sophie was long since asleep in her bed and Genny was getting ready to greet her husband in their marriage bed.

  She used the warm water to wash from head to toe, then slipped on the silky nightdress Gabby had given her. Genny didn’t want to ask where her friend had gotten the light blue concoction but it fit her like a glove.

  Genny brushed her hair and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her steady gaze looked back at her and for the first time since she could remember, there were no shadows behind her eyes. Loving Lee, letting go of the darkness of her past, had allowed her to finally be happy. A small knock at the door made her smile.

  She stood and tried to smooth her hair but it wasn’t cooperating. Ah, well, it wasn’t as if it was their first time together.

  Genny opened the door to find Lee standing there, shuffling his feet and looking nervous. His eyes widened at the sight of the nightdress.

  “Hi there.”

  “Hi.” He pulled a handful of wildflowers from behind his back. “I wanted this to be special.”

  Lee was so wonderful in his awkwardness, his attempt at wooing her. She took the flowers and laid them on the washstand, then took his hand, tugging him into the room. As Genny closed the door, she smiled at her new husband.

  “Mr. Blackwood, it will be special for the rest of our lives.” She trailed her hand along his shoulders, satisfied to see him shiver at her touch. “You have entirely too many clothes on.”

  “You, ah, have some interesting clothes on.”

  She laughed low in her throat. “I’m glad you like it. Now let’s see what we can do here.”

  As she reached for his shirt, he took her hand. “No, tonight, it’s my turn.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “Please.”

  Genny didn’t know what he was up to, but she was willing to find out. He shed his shirt as quickly as he could. She kept her hands down although watching him struggle with the buttons with one hand wasn’t easy.

  “Your hair looks so beautiful.” He ran his hand through the strands. “You know the first time I saw you I wanted to feel your hair against my skin.”

  Genny heard the truth in his words and closed her eyes as he stepped closer. His lips closed over hers in a gentle touch, then they grew firmer.

  He cupped her breast and swiped his thumb across the nipple. It was her turn to shiver as arousal slid through her. She swayed beneath his touch, eager to be together with him as husband and wife.

  “This is so soft, almost as soft as your skin.” Lee ran his hand down her back and cupped her behind, squeezing.

  She gasped at the feel of his cock pressing into her belly. “Don’t make me wait. Not now, Lee. Please.” Genny took his hand and led him to the bed. “I want to be your wife in truth.”

  His smile was worth more than all the money in the world. “Your wish is my command, Mrs. Blackwood.”

  They shed their remaining clothes quickly and climbed into the bed until they faced each other. Genny put a hand on his chest and raised one brow.

  “Let me love you.” Her voice was low and full of need. She barely recognized herself.

  Lee lay down, his hard staff lying on his belly, waiting for her. Genny’s hand shook as she reached for him, but not from nervousness, but rather from the emotions flowing through her. Finally, finally, she was with a man who loved her, one who owned her heart in return.

  She straddled him, sweeping her hair down his chest and groin. He moaned low and deep in his throat. With a smile, she did it again, her body heating with each pass. It was a heady feeling, knowing she was arousing both of them with just the light touch of her hair.

  “You’re torturing me,” he choked out.

  “You love it.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” This time it was Genny’s turn to be almost overwhelmed by the words. She slid forward and positioned herself above him, the head of his cock poised at the entrance of her pussy.

  Their gazes locked as she lowered herself onto his staff inch by inch. When he was fully sheathed within her, Genny held her breath. They truly were made for each other, perfectly sized, perfectly matched.

  Genny began to move, her body at one with Lee’s. As she went down, he pushed up, their rhythm as perfect as their union. Her hair brushed his chest as she moved, and he let loose a groan with each touch of her locks.

  “Genny.”

  “Lee.”

  Her orgasm began somewhere in New Orleans and traveled all the way to Texas, then up her legs and into her pussy, her heart and her soul. She exploded with the most unimaginable ecstasy, screaming his name as her body pulled his into his own orgasm.

  It was a moment frozen in time, the perfect moment she would remember for the rest of her life. As the waves of pleasure began to fade, she lay beside him and felt tears prick her lids when his arm closed around her. Yes, now Genny was loved and loved in return.

  Epilogue

  “That’s a lot of wheat.” Sophie stood with her hands on her tiny hips and looked out across the golden fields.

  “Yep, it sure is. It’s not getting cut though with you jawing at me. Now are you ready?” Lee felt the weight of the cradle in his right hand and knew it was going to take at least two weeks of back-breaking labor from sunup to sundown to get the crop cut, dried and bundled.

  She held up the twine. “Ready, Pa.”

  Lee could not believe the brat had taken to calling him pa. He wouldn’t tell her it made his heart thump and his eyes sting, but he didn’t tell her to stop either. They were
going to use the money from this crop to buy the farm. Since they didn’t have the cash, the wheat was going to be the rest of the money, along with Lee’s meager savings, to really own their home.

  Genny walked toward them, a jug of water in her hand and twine in the other. She set the jug down and shaded her eyes against the morning sun. “Someone’s coming.”

  Lee peered toward the barn, noting a few wagons and horses. He didn’t know what the hell was going on until he saw Zeke, Naomi, Gideon, Jake, Gabby and Bernard leading a crowd of people toward them.

  The men were all carrying cradles.

  “Sweet heavens.” Genny’s voice was full of awe and emotion.

  This time Lee welcomed the stinging in his eyes. His family, the town he’d pushed away, they’d all come to the farm to help his newfound family bring in the crop. This was what he’d been missing all his life. The love of a woman, the sense of community, and the support of his neighbors.

  “Who’re all those folks?” Sophie stepped up beside them.

  “That’s our family, Sophie. That’s our family.” Lee swooped up his new daughter and put her on his shoulders, then took his wife’s hand to go greet the town of Tanger.

  Two lost souls, burned by the life they led, had found peace, love and happiness in Texas. One more Devil had finally come home.

  About the Author

  Beth has never been able to escape her imagination and it led her to the craft of writing romance novels. She’s passionate about purple, books, and her family (not to mention long cruises). She works full-time and writes romance novels evening, weekends, early mornings and whenever there is a break in the madness.

  She is compassionate, funny, a bit reserved at times, tenacious and a little quirky. Her cowboys and western romances speak of a bygone era, bringing her readers to an age where men were honest, hard and honkin’ built.

  For a change of pace, she also dives into some smokin’ hot contemporaries, bringing you heat, romance and snappy dialogue.

  To learn more about Beth Williamson, please visit www.bethwilliamson.com or send an email to Beth at beth@bethwilliamson.com.

  Look for these titles by Beth Williamson

  Now Available:

  Hell for Leather

  Marielle’s Marshal

  Branded

  Devils on Horseback

  Nate

  Jake

  Zeke

  Malloy Family

  The Bounty

  The Prize

  The Reward

  The Treasure

  The Gift

  The Tribute

  The Legacy

  Private Lives

  On His Knees

  In this game of hearts, winner takes all.

  A Betting Chance

  © 2010 Lynne Connolly

  The Triple Countess, Book 4

  Sapphira Vardon needs five thousand pounds to avoid a cruel marriage and a grim future, and there’s only one path for her. Don a mask and an assumed name, and risk everything to win at the gaming tables. First, though, she has to get through the door. Luckily she knows just whose name to drop.

  Corin, Lord Elston, is curious to find out who used his name to gain entrance to Mother Brown’s whorehouse and gaming hell. The enigmatic woman who calls herself Lucia isn’t the sort of female usually found here. Behind her mask and heavy makeup, she’s obviously a respectable woman—who plays a devilish hand of cards.

  Sapphira is desperate to keep her identity a secret, but Lord Elston’s devastating kisses and touches demand complete surrender. And once he learns the truth, there’s more at stake than guineas. Corin finds himself falling hard for a woman who’s poised to run. A woman who’s about to learn that he only plays to win…

  Warning: Hot action on the gaming table and in the bedroom might make you go looking for a time machine.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for A Betting Chance:

  “I wish you’d trust me with your secret. I might be able to help,” Lord Elston said.

  “I don’t know you.” Not in any recognized meaning of the word. The connection Sapphira felt to him had to be her imagination. He couldn’t feel it, not this wild needing.

  “I think we should get to know each other better. I want you to trust me.” He touched her chin, his forefinger stroking her skin. She wanted to purr like a cat, but instead she moved back. Before she could retreat out of his reach he tilted her chin up so she had to meet his direct gaze. His eyes bored into her soul. “There’s something about you—I don’t know.” He bit his lip. It was the first time she’d seen any vulnerability about him and she found it meltingly seductive.

  She couldn’t risk weakening. She put her guard back up and kept it firmly in place, reminding herself that he was a stranger, that she didn’t know him. “I told you, I can’t do that. I’m here to play cards, no more.”

  “I love a challenge,” he murmured, and lowered his head.

  The first touch of his lips against hers paralyzed her. Recognition—of what she still didn’t know—shot between them and she opened her mouth to protest, but he used it to his advantage and licked her lips before he slid his tongue into her mouth.

  Now shock held her rigid. Nobody had ever kissed her like this. She hadn’t imagined it possible. She’d seen the caricatures in the shops with their sometimes explicit content, watched a man fondling a whore, seen mercenary transactions take place in the street—she’d thought herself reasonably au fait with sexual matters, for a virgin.

  She’d been wrong. She knew that watching and experiencing were two different things but had never known it could be so devastatingly different. The intimacy floored her, and she could do nothing other than reach out for something to steady herself.

  The memory of that other kiss—that disgusting, slobbering kiss George Barber had forced on her—returned in full measure. This didn’t compare, couldn’t. She wanted to press closer to Elston, not jerk away, put as much distance between them as she could. Nothing like that. If anything had told her that she couldn’t go ahead with marriage to George Barber, this did.

  Corin cupped the back of her head as her hand made contact with his velvet-clad arm. She clutched it, praying for control as he took his time exploring her mouth, caressing her with soft strokes that made her heat up right down to the forbidden area between her thighs. He held her safe, didn’t move his hands or try to unfasten her clothing. One arm curved around her waist, the other over her wig. She wanted his hands under it, in her hair, cupping her head intimately. One of the strings of her mask loosened.

  She jerked back, her hand going to her only protection against discovery. “No, don’t!” Her voice was breathless, whispery, but at least it still worked. As did her common sense.

  “I want to see you.” He sounded as out of breath as she did.

  “No, you can’t.” She reached up and retied the one string he’d managed to undo. Luckily the other one still held firm. He’d dislodged her wig, and she pulled it back into place, but he must have seen that she was a brunette.

  “Why not? Will I know you?”

  Having regained her composure, enough to confront him anyway, she shook her head. “It’s highly doubtful. But you might see me somewhere else.”

  “And you’ve lost that accent. I knew you’d assumed it, but there’s still a tinge left. Are you a Londoner?”

  Born and bred. “I’ve visited London a lot,” she said, hoping desperately to put him off the scent. She had to get out of here before he guessed more. Before he had her out of her clothes and spread out on the bed for his pleasure. How could she have been so stupid?

  But she had to pass him to get to the door, and he caught her skirts. “A challenge, sweet Lucia. Just between us.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of the danger. Because you want a bit of excitement in your life.” If only he knew she’d have more excitement than she’d ever wanted soon. But she appreciated that he didn’t threaten her. He could have her barred from this house w
ith very little trouble, but he hadn’t done it.

  She turned around, willing at least to listen, but keeping some distance between them, as much as this small room would allow. He sat there in his splendid clothes looking every inch a prince. A wicked prince. He released his clutch on her skirt, and she resisted the urge to put her hand where his had just been, to touch the residual warmth. “Well?”

  “Let me get to know you better. You intrigue me. Can you meet me, talk to me, with your mask and maquillage off? Can you look me in the face without your protection?”

  “No.” She couldn’t do it. With no mask or makeup he’d see every expression on her face, and he’d know she was his for the taking, however hard she fought against it.

  He leaned back, smiling. “A challenge, then. A bet, just between us, with no money at stake. If I recognize you and challenge you in public without your disguise, you promise to meet me at a place of my choice.”

  “Why?”

  He smiled. “I want you, sweet Lucia. I want to see your face while I’m making love to you.”

  Before she could repress it an image flashed into her mind. Him, naked, admiring her naked body, kissing it, touching it. Oh she wanted it so much, but she couldn’t. Mustn’t. She held back her shock. Barely. “And what’s in it for me?”

  His rich laugh filled the small space with joy. “I hope to give you pleasure as I’m taking it.”

  She pulled out of his grasp, put her hand on the door latch. “I can’t.” Then she was gone, hurrying toward her servant, Frankie, as fast as she could without colliding with anyone or losing her foothold.

  He held the reins to her heart once—and this time he won’t let go.

  The Real Deal