by Terry Towers
~*~*~*~*~
She wasn’t sure how to take this new discovery, it was so pretty, dainty and perfect. It was in direct contrast to what he was saying. Why hadn’t he thrown it away, or pawned it or tossed it into the back of a box somewhere, having forgotten where he’d left it years ago? But he hadn’t.
Without even thinking about what she was doing she slipped it onto her finger, testing the way it looked on her. The little diamond sparkled under the light of the kitchen. Why couldn’t he have told his mother to butt out and given it to her at prom? But would it have made a difference? She didn’t have an answer for that.
The sound of him clearing his throat and shuffling nervously in front of her made her look up, drawing her from her ponderings and trip down memory lane. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. The life she’d always wanted was standing before her, wrapped up in a bright red bow.
Or was it?
“I just had it out. I was just…” He raked a hand through his hair, clearly agitated.
“Yes.” As soon as the word came from her mouth her blue eyes went wide and she wished she could take it back. What in the hell was she doing? He hadn’t even asked her a question. Hadn’t even hinted towards proposing. He’d just said they were only having fun… No big deal.
“Excuse me?” He frowned, his eyes shining with confusion.
How in in the name of God do you backpedal out of this? She didn’t know. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She looked down at the ring, heat colouring her cheeks. Grabbing the ring, she attempted to pull it off her finger; it wouldn’t come off.
Ohmyfuckinggod ohmyfuckinggod ohmyfuckinggod! “I can’t. I mean.” She tugged a little harder, but it seemed to refuse to come any further than her knuckle.
After frantically watching her attempt to pull the ring off of her ring finger to the point she’d turned the skin red and raw, he grabbed her hands in his, forcing her to stop. “What do you mean, yes?”
“It’s nothing.” Tears filled her eyes. She was so humiliated. She’d let her mind wander and let her guard down. “I was thinking. I just…” Rambling again, I’m rambling. Her gaze frantically looked everywhere but at him. She didn’t want to see the look of pity in his eyes. She couldn’t handle that.
Cupping her chin in her hand he forced her to look up at him, directly into his eyes. “What are you saying ‘yes’ to, Violet?”
She sighed. His eyes didn’t hold pity or scorn, they held confusion and… hope… maybe? She attempted to pull her chin from his hand, but he refused to allow her to look away.
Devon’s voice softened. “What do you want, V? Stop feeding me bullshit, what do you want? Just say it.” He released her and straightened, waiting for a response.
“I want this.” She waved her hands toward their surroundings but nowhere in particular. “And I want to gather eggs in the morning with you and share the stories of the day with you. And I want to catch up on all the years that were stolen and I just… I want what I’ve always wanted…” She looked up and caught his anguished gaze. “I want you. Forever.” She looked down at the ring and stroked the small diamond. “I want this to be real.”
It was as if something burst within him and he deflated. He couldn’t be hard with her, he’d never been able to be strong – not with her. Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her to him, holding her tight, allowing her to cry for the years they’d lost and for the pain they’d felt alone, but had never shared. She clung to him, fisting the back of his shirt as her tears saturated the cotton covering his shoulders, drawing from his strength.
He waited until the sobs lessened, brushing his lips across her temple. “Then stay, V. Stay. No one is chasing you away this time,” he whispered. “Keep the ring. Stay.”
She pulled back, just enough to look up and into his eyes, but refusing to move out of the strength of his embrace. “Isn’t it fast?”
Wiping the tears from her eyes with his thumb, he smiled. “I’ve loved you for twelve years, since we were thirteen, Violet. It’s hardly fast. I’m not saying get married today or tomorrow, but when it’s time. So stay, it’s time to come home. If you want.”
“I want. So much, I want that.”
“I love you Violet, I’ve never stopped.”
Their eyes locked a final time and he nodded; his sweet, sexy dimples appeared as he gave her his patented Devon Land smile. “I love you too.”
He lowered his forehead to hers. “Stay.”
“Forever.”
The End
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Please note, the Forbidden series was formally the Moan for Uncle/Moan for Him series
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Frat Party Partner Swap
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The Billionaires’ Club 2: Surrendering To Him
An Heir For The Billionaire
Her ‘What If’ Guy
Dark Romance/Romantic Suspense
Trust
Taming A Dark Heart
Romantic Comedy/Rom-Com
Tamed By The Cowboy
Anything He Desires (Milk Money)
Strong/Independent Women Romance
Bought And Paid For
Hers To Command: Blackmailed and Dominated
Hitching A Ride
Hitching A Ride 2: To Trust A Con
Misc Romance
Seduced While She Sleeps
Game of Love: House of Sex, Lies and Sexy Singles
The Marine’s Naughty Neighbour
Doing Her For The Boss
Conjugal Visits: Good Girls With Bad Boys
Conjugal Visits 2: New Beginnings
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Red Hot and Taboo
Excerpt From:
Tamed By The Cowboy
By
Terry Towers
Available Now
Chapter 1
“You have got to be kidding me. Hell no!” Samantha Wilkes knocked on the panel separating her from the driver of the Lincoln Town Car who had picked her up at the airport, care of her new stepfather’s brother, Connor Hudson. The driver acted as though he couldn’t hear her. She pounded harder, the panel between the driver and back seat shaking from the force.
“This is kidnapping, asshole. Take me back to the airport!”
She’d never met Connor before, his farm being in Idaho and she and her family being in New York. He hadn’t even gone to his brother’s wedding to her mother; his excuse for not attending the wedding was that he couldn’t leave the farm unattended long enough to make a visit. Kind of a douche excuse if you asked her, he was his brother for heavens sakes!
She was happy to be a New Yorker and had no desire to be an Idahodian… She frowned. Were the locals called Idahoan’s? She didn’t know and sure as hell didn’t care to stay long enough to find out.
Frustrated that the driver was refusing to answer her screams for his attention, she flopped back into the leather seat and eyed the large farmhouse coming into view. She supposed it looked quite nice, for a farm, but it was still a farm. Despite having her window rolled up the smell of farm assaulted her nose.
“I don’t belong here,” she grumbled, more to herself than to the driver.
She’d been wondering about Connor and had come up with a mental image of him. He was a big burly hillbilly, with too much facial hair and a big gut from one too many beers each night. She didn’t know his age, but her stepfather was 52 so she assumed he was in his forties somewhere. She’d never even seen a picture of Connor, but then again, she and her stepfather never really got along all that well so it wasn’t that big of a surprise she knew nothing about his family.
Maybe there’s some hot farmhands to flirt with? The thought only made the idea of being trapped there slightly more bearable.
As the car came to a stop she looked out into the fields, hoping to see a hot man wearing just his jeans and a handkerchief. She didn’t see any and slumped back into the seat with a huff. She tried the door and was relieved that the driver had unlocked the doors so she could finally have her freedom.
The driver had already gotten out and unloaded her luggage onto the dirt driveway from the trunk by the time she stepped out of the car.
“Hey, watch how you’re handling those!” She rushed over to her precious Louis Vuitton suitcases sitting in the dirt. “Those suitcases and what’s in them cost more than you make in a year!”
“Then you’ve severely over-packed, Miss.” The middle-aged, balding man rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand at her. Turning his back to her he headed back to the driver’s side door.
“Wait a minute. What am I supposed to do?”
He opened the car door and paused. “Toughen up and get a new attitude, sweetheart.” Not waiting for a response he got into the car, started it up and sped off, leaving a seething and coughing Samantha in a cloud of dust.
“Asshole,” she grumbled as she looked toward the modern-styled two-story farmhouse. With a loud sigh and a heavy heart she grabbed the handles of the two suitcases and began making her way up the dirt walkway to the front door.
On the porch she stood staring at the front door a moment, considering whether she had any other options but to go in. She didn’t. She was cut off. No more credit cards, no more trust fund. No more money. Apparently, if she wanted money she’d be forced to work for Connor and earn it.
It was complete bullshit; she had a trust fund worth millions and she was being reduced to nothing more than hired labour. The trust fund, which was currently under her mother’s control, would be handed to her when she turned twenty-one. Unfortunately, that was still a year down the road, so she was at the mercy of her mother – and now the mercy of some stranger.
Pulling herself together with a deep breath, she slowly released it and knocked on the front door. No one answered. She knocked again and waited. Still no answer, but she heard movement inside. She tried the knob and it turned in her hand. She was about to open the door when the sound of a large dog barking from within made her think twice and she took a step back from the door.
Are you kidding me? They send me to this hellhole and there’s no one here to greet me or to tie up the beast! Fuck, I hate dogs! The drool, the stink, the begging…
She stayed planted on the spot and listened; she could faintly hear voices coming from behind the house, despite the barking. Not wanting to pull her luggage though more dirt and gravel she left the cases next to the door and made her way around the house. The dirt path was riddled with holes and giant rocks, making it hard for her to walk in her spike-heeled knee-high boots.
Once she finally managed to make it around to the back of the house, she saw a massive barn in the distance; the front doors were wide open and she could faintly see rows of cows. Well, guess that would be where the stink is coming from.
In the opposite direction was a stable, which had been visible from the road. Her eyes became drawn to a couple of beautiful black horses with a baby hanging around the mother. She smiled as she watched them; the baby was adorable. The horses intrigued her; one thing she’d never done before was ride a horse, but she’d always wanted to.
Maybe Connor will teach me? She carefully began walking toward the fenced-in area where the horses were lounging.
Crossing her arms over the wooden rail, she placed her chin upon them and watched them.
“You must be the girl.”
Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder to see a skinny kid she guessed to be maybe fourteen strolling up behind her. She groaned inwardly; if these were the types of farm workers Connor employed she could forget about the eye candy. Being able to flirt with some well-built guys was the only thing she could think of that would have made this place bearable. Her hopes were being crushed.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” She looked back toward the horses. She had no interest in chatting with the kid.
“I’m Jacob Miller.” He extended his hand to her.
Samantha turned back to him and looked down at his extended hand. His hands were cut and bruised with dirt under his nails. She cringed as she accepted his hand and shook it as briefly as possible, without appearing too rude – figuring she didn’t want to offend him, since he may be useful to her during her stay there. “Samantha.”
“Nice to meet you, Samantha.” The kid leaned against the railing and eyed her intently. “Does Connor know you’re here?”
“Don’t think so. Where is he? I want to go to my room.”
The kid shrugged. “Last time I saw him he was in the milking parlour.”
She crinkled her nose up at him. “What’s the milking parlour?”
The kid pointed to the building she’d considered to be a barn. “That’s what they call that?”
He nodded, still intently focused on her, as if she were the first woman he’d ever set eyes on.
She looked over at the milking parlour. It was a long walk in the boots she had on. She’d be lucky if she didn’t break a leg stumbling over the rocks and then grass and mud. “Hey, can you do me a favour?”
He nodded eagerly. “Sure thing.”
She nodded toward the milking parlour. “Tell him I’m here and he needs to come and let me in the house.”
“You got it.” Pleased to be of assistance and get into her good graces, he sprinted off toward the barn.
Guess he can be useful…
~*~*~*~*~
“Samantha’s here,” Jacob announced, jogging up to Connor, who was in the process of supervising a couple of workers
during the milking process.
“Yeah, I know.” Connor made sure they worked extra hard and long the previous days to ensure he freed up enough time to properly show Samantha around.
“You’re not going to go meet her?” the young man asked, strolling over to the tool wall and grabbing a shovel and bucket. He was in charge of shit removal from the stalls.
“Nope.” He’d gotten a call from his driver moments after she was dropped off. According to his driver, who also happened to be a good friend of his, she was a bitchy little snot, which pretty much echoed the sentiment of his brother about her attitude. He’d been hoping his brother had been exaggerating, but apparently not.
“Why?”
“She can wait, I have work to do.” He didn’t. The place worked like a well-oiled machine. Being on a farm meant there were always things to do, but nothing so pressing that he couldn’t pull himself away to greet her, especially after working everyone so hard already.
Connor glanced out of the barn and spotted her, leaning over the rail and attempting to coax one of the horses over to her. A loud laugh escaped him when he examined what she was wearing: a red dress that appeared to be made of satin, with big, flowing sleeves and tight around her torso and round bottom. It was so short that if she leaned over the rail, Jacob would be getting his first view of a woman’s snatch. Her boots were the kicker – they were knee-high boots with a heel so high the fact she could walk in them was a wonder all in itself.
Shovel in hand, Jacob came to stand beside Connor, admiring Samantha. “She’s hot.”
“Yeah. I have a feeling she knows it too.” Connor’s eyes caught sight of her long dark hair as a gust of wind lifted it, tossing it around her head and into her face. Her hair shone beautifully under the sun’s rays. He lowered his gaze to her ass again; it was perfectly round and tight. He wouldn’t lie, he wouldn’t mind running his hands up and under that skirt and caressing her ass cheeks… and more. He groaned inwardly as his dick jerked alive in his jeans. Angry with himself for allowing himself to fantasize about her, he forced the image from his mind. She was sent to him to learn that life isn’t just about partying, men and spending money. She hadn’t been sent there to be his personal fuck doll.