by Unknown
Duel choked. “Okay. I agree he’s not playing with a full deck. He was a mean kid. I remember how he used to torture small animals. He’s a meaner adult. I’m sorry. But you have to admit, this is really bizarre. Where is she? I want to meet her.”
“I…don’t know. I have to find her.”
“You don’t know? You mean…you lost your bride?” He blinked. “Jesus, J.D. How can you misplace your wife?”
“I didn’t misplace her. She…uh…ran away.”
“You don’t just misplace your wife. Christ!” He arched both brows. “She ran away? What did you do to her for Pete’s sake?”
“Do? You know what I did. Surely I don’t have to explain the birds and the bees to you.”
“Other than that.”
“Nothing.”
“She’s mixed up with Smitt, you’re better off free of her. There’s bound to be bad trouble.”
“For once we agree on something.”
“If Smitt considers her his property, he won’t give her up easily. He’s scum, J.D. I can tell you right now, he’ll follow her to the ends of the Earth just to get her back. I hope she’s worth it. If he threatened you, then you better prepare yourself for anything. She could cost you everything you’ve worked for all your life. She’ll probably end up with all your money anyway. I’m betting she’s a schemer since she’s mixed up with Smitt.”
“I’ve worked for her all my life,” Jace said simply. “I can’t grow old with my billions. I can’t hold it, make love to it or have children with it. If she wants every dime I have, it’s hers. I have to find her, before he does. I want her safe. I want her away from Reno.”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said? He’s like a damned jungle cat. Territorial. If he claimed her, then God damn it, he’ll follow her. You won’t be safe. She won’t be safe.”
“Ah, but if he shows up at the ranch, then he’ll be on my ground. There’s nothing more deadly than a Montana mountain.”
“You’re going to kill him?”
“Did I ever tell you about the time I beat the shit outta him for setting a kitten on fire?”
Duel moaned. “That’s not what I asked you.”
Jace grinned, but there was only the promise of death revealed in his dark eyes. “No. I’m not going to kill him. I just told you, there’s nothing more deadly than a—”
“Montana mountain,” he snapped. “Yes, I heard you. I think I should tell you I work for a government agency that frowns on murder.”
Jace snorted. “Yeah, right. What are you, some kind of special agent?”
“Maybe. If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”
“Are you ever serious?”
“I’m always serious.” Duel shrugged. “All right, Jace. What can I do to help?”
“You don’t have to get involved.”
“Yeah, I do. Besides, I have a license to kill. You don’t.”
“Will you stop with the secret agent crap?”
“Okay. How’s this? She’s family now. What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t help you find and defend your lady?” He paused before opening the door. “Let’s go have breakfast, a few more gallons of coffee, and discuss how we’re going to locate your woman.”
Jace stood up and joined him on his way out the door.
“So tell me,” Duel said. “Where did you say our little brother, Wild, is? What has he been up to?”
“He’s sulking in Montana.”
“Sulking in Montana,” he repeated. “Sounds like the words to a country song.”
“Christ, Duel.”
“Come on.” He snickered. “Let’s go find this…lady you’ve gotten yourself involved with.”
And see if I can’t get him unhooked, before they make me an uncle!
Chapter Eight
There are two times when a man doesn’t understand a woman—Before marriage and after marriage.
~Cowgirl Quotes
Double Deuce Casino and Hotel
Underground Parking
Saturday 10:00 a.m.
Kaycee’s hands trembled as she switched off the wipers on the red Ford truck. The old truck was practically held together with glue and baling wire and about as ancient as her great Aunt Becky.
The air conditioner had seen better days and made a clanking noise when she switched it on. It was safer to leave it off.
The tires were maypops.
“May pop any second,” Taylor was fond of saying.
A lovely thought, also an accurate description.
Her shoulders slumped. There was little hope she’d ever have the money to get the truck fixed. Certainly praying never resulted in an end to her problems. She’d used up her lifetime of prayers. Since hope was all she had left, she figured it was just a matter of time before the truck crashed and burned.
She was grateful it was still drizzling. At least she wasn’t boiling inside the cab beneath the scorching Nevada sun.
She gnawed at her bottom lip and fumbled with the key in the ignition. The stupid engine refused to die, even after she switched off the key. Clunk-clunk-clunk. Sputter-sputter. The damned thing wouldn’t stop clanking and coughing.
“Damn it!” She banged the steering wheel with her fist. “Why can’t you just stop?”
The motor sounded like a sick seal. Frustration chewed away at her as she sat there waiting for it to give its final belch and die.
For some absurd reason, once the engine ‘gave up the ghost’, she felt the urge to cry. She knew deep in her heart, it wasn’t the problems with the truck that made her feel so weepy, but instead, was due to the fact she had to go back inside the damned casino.
“All right, you can do this. Cowgirl up!”
Irritated with her lack of courage she yanked up one of the hair combs lying on the seat next to her. It reminded her she’d left a set with the cowboy. She’d searched for them in the room, but hadn’t been able to locate them before she harried out of there. She’d probably never get them back. What the hell, they were only combs.
“Ouch!” The painful yelp escaped her as she jabbed it in her hair hard enough to make her scalp burn.
She swept a hand down the smooth strands and slid the second comb in place with a gentler hand. Touching her hair reminded her of him, and this aggravated her even more.
Why couldn’t she just forget him?
But how did one forget a man who kissed the way he could?
How could she forget the man who’d taken her virginity—and left in its place lingering memories of butterfly kisses trailed over her body, of fingertips skimming lightly over her body. He’d treated her as if she were made of spun glass, except for the times he lost control. Those times, he drove hard and fast and deep inside her and each time, he’d unraveled in her arms.
Everything about him haunted her.
His touch.
His raw hunger.
His mouth—everywhere. His tongue—tasting her
The way his big body shuddered when he climaxed, the powerful surge of his release spilling hot and wet inside her.
She wanted to be angry with him. He deserved her anger.
Instead, she felt disarmed.
She wanted to heap all the blame on his head. Storm and rage at him. It would be so easy to hold him responsible—but unfair. She hadn’t been thinking right, but she knew very well, if it hadn’t been him, who took her virginity, then it would be Smitt, and she couldn’t bear the thought.
If nothing else, she was honest with herself. The cowboy had done no more than she’d asked him to do. But damn it, he had to have been aware she was as drunk as a one-winged bat.
You make it damned hard for a man to be noble.
Those words haunted her. In all truth, she had made it hard for him to be noble. She hadn’t wanted noble. She wanted him. He said those words to her, groaned them against her mouth.
How could she possibly place all the blame on a man when he’d been willing to walk away and leave her untouched?
&n
bsp; She’d refused to let him walk away. He refused to touch her. “You’re drunk, darlin’. You don’t want me to touch you. Not really.”
She’d argued. He’d rubbed a hand down his face and gave in, but he had rules. The only way he’d make love to her was if she agreed to marry him first. She could have refused, gotten up and walked out of the room, but she didn’t. She knew she’d never have the courage to offer her body again. So stupidly, she agreed to his deal.
She lowered her hands to her lap and stared numbly at her trembling fingers. What in the name of God had possessed her to do such a dumb and risky thing?
Everything had crashed around her yesterday, Taylor’s attitude and Smitt’s constant threats. She’d needed to mean something to someone.
Well, she’d gotten that, all right, and so much more than she’d ever dreamed.
Somehow—Lord give her strength—she had to suck up her courage and face going back inside the casino.
And somehow—she had to face the fact she’d acquired a husband she didn’t want.
Unwanted?
No, she wasn’t being honest with herself—not unwanted—just—what?
Her breath caught on a small hitch. A rush of pain scalded her heart. Her mind screamed, telling her she couldn’t hold on to him.
But with every beat, her heart hammered out the message he was hers to keep.
No. She simply couldn’t keep him, that’s all there was to it. There was no room in her life for a husband who put demands on her time. She rested her head against the back of the worn seat and closed her eyes. There was no going back in there. She’d never dredge up the nerve to walk back inside the damned casino.
Coward!
Tap-tap-tap. The sharp raps on her window made her jump. She barely stifled a scream. Grasping the handle, she rolled down the window and smiled.
“Duel, you scared the blazes out of me.”
“Sorry.” He opened the truck door and helped her out. “I’ve been watching for you to arrive. I’m so sorry about last night.”
“Last night?”
OhmiGod. Did he know what happened to her last night? She’d die of embarrassment.
“Yeah. I tried to call you and let you know plans had changed, but I didn’t get an answer. Guess you’d already left. J.D. was in top form last night, a total horse’s ass. I didn’t want you to meet him when he was in such a mood.” He eyed her a moment, then continued. “My monitors shorted out. I had to wait on a repair crew. I got busy helping them and lost track of time and honestly…I forgot the appointment.”
She forced a smile. “I wouldn’t want to meet your brother if he was in a bad mood anyway. No harm done.”
Right! A silent sigh of relief slipped past her lips.
He didn’t know. Thank God.
“At least I caught you now. What happened to you? I called your number again this morning, and your brother said you were out all night.”
“Nothing happened to me. I went for a long drive in the desert.” She sure as sweet hell wasn’t about to tell him she’d left the lounge with a man she didn’t know and had mind-shattering sex. Or that she’d traded her virginity for a marriage license.
“Taylor said you were crying.”
“Taylor talks too much.” She forced a smile. “I’m fine. Really.”
Yeah, she was right as rain, hunky-dory, a happy little monkey as opposed to a raped little ape. She clamped back a hysterical giggle. Lord, she was losing it.
“Good. Good.” Duel patted her shoulder as if she was a lost puppy or something. “I brought you a key to my private elevator.” He pressed the key-card into her palm. “It’s a lot slower than the public ones, but you won’t have to share with the casino crowd or have to stop on every floor. It will take you straight up to the office complex on the penthouse floor.”
He leaned down and brushed a light kiss against her cheek. “I’ll go track down J.D.” He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. “We’ll meet you in an hour. I hate to keep you waiting again, but I’m still having monitor problems. I have to check a few things out yet.” He hesitated, then said, “I’ll get my brother there as soon as I can.” He squeezed her hand. “Go on into my office and make yourself comfortable. I’m sorry for the delay.”
She watched him walk away, her mouth gaping. A short bark of laughter slipped past her lips. It felt as though a steamroller had just hit her and knocked her flat on her ass. She flipped the key-card over in her hand and shook her head. Might as well get this done, dragging her heels wasn’t going to get her past the entry doors and into the busy casino.
Once she stepped inside, the cooler, refrigerated air felt wonderful. Maybe it was her lucky day and the cowboy had taken off for parts unknown. What were the odds of running into him again? Zilch. It was a big casino with a lot of people who came and went, a crowd who remained in constant motion. She figured the odds were in her favor that she’d never see him again.
Maybe she dreamed the whole thing.
Sure.
It was more like she’d wandered into another world that had somehow awakened her long dormant sexuality and now her body had all these sensual, sexual cravings and fantasies. Even now, hours after the fact, her breasts felt fuller, prickly—achy. The slightest brush of a breeze against her skin stirred her nipples to life. She never dreamed her body could feel this alive or so needy.
And hadn’t he marked her as his possession?
The tiny little love bites left on her stomach and her inner thighs branded her as his exclusive property. God, there wasn’t a place on her he hadn’t touched, kissed, explored—claimed.
And she’d thrilled to every heated stroke—every swirl of his wet tongue against her skin. Oh, but she felt wicked—wanton—and certainly well-used. She also felt trapped. What if he searched for her?
Impossible. He wouldn’t do that. Would he?
She told herself he wouldn’t go to so much trouble. He’d married her to soothe his conscience, not out of any great love for her. But what if—
For God’s sake, she had to get over this damn phobia that he’d be waiting for her, ready to pounce like a cat on a mouse. But she couldn’t get past the fact she’d awakened in his bed naked and acutely sensitive to the brush of the satin sheets against her skin. She’d made love with a stranger.
Correction—she had sex with a stranger.
His earthy scent had seeped into the pores of her skin and lingered, proof she’d given herself to him.
Blood stained the sheets. Deep inside her body, she felt sore, tender and exquisitely sensitive. The stickiness on her inner thighs proved he hadn’t bothered with precautions.
He was so big, a powerful man, and he was hung. The first time had been acutely painful. She’d felt stuffed and stretched beyond capacity.
Ah, but she remembered his gentleness afterward. His devastation when he discovered she was a virgin.
From the moment she saw him, everything changed to slow motion, slower and slower, until time stood still and there was no one but her and the handsome cowboy in the lounge.
Well, she’d certainly been slapped with a healthy dose of reality when she awakened. The spattering sound of running water and cheerful masculine whistling emitting from the bathroom had been a real eye-opener.
When she found the will to open her eyes, thunder exploded. It boomed through her skull like a million kegs of dynamite. Curtains of water rolled down the windows in a glassy blur. It took her a moment to comprehend that the thunder was real, and it was raining buckets outside.
For what seemed an eternity, she fought the urge to vomit. Her mouth felt as though it was stuffed with cotton balls. It took two attempts before she managed to sit on the side of the bed.
Once she was sitting upright, she clutched her head, certain it was going to fall off, roll across the floor, and self-detonate. Her vision wavered, as bleary as the sheets of rain sliding down the windowpanes.
It was then she took in the chaos of the room, and her own disarray.
Naked as a stripped banana, she sat there stunned. She simply couldn’t work up the effort to care. The room blurred in front of her jaded glare. Where the hell was she?
Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the packages of rainbow colored condoms scattered across the dove gray carpet. Every single packet was intact.
She moaned, holding her head. The room was a total mess and so was she. She searched tensely for a clue as to where her clothes might be. A scrap of silky material told its own sorry tale. She closed her eyes and did her best to choke the alarm at seeing her thong discarded there on the floor like a tarnished trophy.
It lay in two pieces. Not a chance in hell of wearing it.
Casting a bleary-eyed gaze to the foot of the bed, she battled the urge to burst into tears. Her hose and lacy garters peeked back at her from where they lay draped over the bedpost. Trophies. All trophies!
Pure and simple panic lanced through her like a stake to the heart. Where was her dress? Calm down Think. Think. There it was. She spied her dress underneath his jeans and shirt on the floor. Snatching it up, she tore it over her head, seized her purse, heels, hose and garters, and shot out the door in record time.
Escape.
That was her primary goal.
Get the hell outta Dodge.
She didn’t think beyond getting out of his bed, out of the room, before he completed his shower and returned. Perhaps returned—expecting an invitation to come back to the king-sized bed once again. To join his body with hers, invade her senses, make her feel things she didn’t want to feel or remember.
Inevitable luck! Having to return to the scene of her downfall revealed plainly just how her life had ended up in the crapper. She would never, swear to God, never touch another drink as long as she lived. Especially tequila!
She didn’t have time for a husband.
She didn’t want a husband.
A quick divorce lay on the horizon.
The stab of pain at the thought of divorcing the cowboy caught her unaware. How would he feel about a divorce?
Why would he care?