Roman's Choice (Saddles & Second Chances Book 1)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  “I-I took the liberty of ordering coffee. I thought you could use it if you ever came out of the bathroom.”

  He scrubbed his jaw and his beard sounded like sandpaper. He needed a shave, but he didn’t much care. “I guess I was in there long enough.”

  She grabbed a handful of clothing from the end of the bed and started to pass him for the bathroom, keeping her eyes from meeting his. “I’ve been wanting to change. When I’m finished, we should talk. Okay?” She just kept right on walking and the soft click of the door closing told him she didn’t need a reply to her question. He dragged on his shirt and groaned. The material was wrinkled and buttons were missing. He then slid into his boots and smashed his Stetson low on his head. He felt more put together, ready to take on anything—maybe.

  Pouring himself a cup of coffee, not bothering with the cream, he needed a strong dose of caffeine to his system. Once he had half of it gone, he could almost forget that he was drinking from a girly china cup. He expected a weak brew, but found that it was a damn good cup of joe. They drank it like tar back on the ranch.

  Staring at the closed door to the bathroom, he gulped the last bit of coffee, not caring that it burnt all of the way down his esophagus. He still couldn’t seem to wrap his brain around what he did—marrying Pippa Wilder. He chuckled at the absurdity of the fact. He’d feel like the biggest fool in Las Vegas if statistics didn’t show that this was the city where all hopeful fools roamed. He wasn’t the only one who’d let the lights get to him. But it was more, and he knew it had to do with the feelings Pippa stirred within him.

  Luckily, she didn’t hide in the bathroom nearly as long as he had. When she came out he’d convinced himself to keep his gaze steady on a safe region…the top of her head would be good. He couldn’t help himself but have a wandering eye. The tight fitting black dress that accentuated her soft curves didn’t help him curb his appetite. He lowered his eyes over her perfect tits practically bursting from the top of the dress, and he realized he was starving.

  He brought his gaze back up, her pale greens were on him in a way that gripped his gut and twisted. He brought his cup to his lips only to realize he’d drained it dry. Putting it down, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Can I get you a cup?” Can I get you another round of last night’s pleasure too? He gave himself an inner shake and reminded himself they were headed toward divorce, not dating.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “NO, I’LL STICK with water.” Pippa went to the mini fridge, grabbed herself a bottle, and popped the lid off. She brought the water to her lips while stealing glimpses from behind her lashes at Roman. She drank thirstily, wishing the cold water would put a freeze on the heat between her thighs. My God, he is a big man. Desire raced through her, straight into her heart, kick starting it into a tribal beat. Her gaze met his, shaded by the Stetson, but his hard jaw told her where he stood.

  The wrinkles in his shirt resembled the ones in the bed, a reminder of the wild night they’d shared in each other’s arms—in his thick, brawny arms. The burning heat multiplied low in her belly, even deeper to a part of her that should be satiated after having him inside of her until she was chafed. But no, she craved more.

  Drinking half her water in one gulp, it did nothing to ease the tension.

  The sexual tension between them was strong, not eased by making love four times yesterday. It was downright palpable. Her toes curled in the heels and her nipples bunched. She didn’t look, but she guessed the dress nor the bra hid the fact that she was turned on. She hadn’t chosen the sexiest dress she had in her suitcase for nothing. She might not get to keep the cowboy, but she wanted to leave a lasting impression.

  “I guess we have a lot of explaining to do, huh?” His slow drawl poured molasses through her bloodstream. He rubbed his palm down his cheek, scraping the layer of beard, sending a trigger of need to her core that had no business doing anything but drying up. And if that wasn’t enough, her nipples responded in quite the same manner. Swelling and pressing against the lace of her bra until they throbbed.

  Recapping her bottle, she strolled to the bed and sat down on the edge, refusing to look at the rumpled sheets. She looked up at him, spellbound by the mesmerizing blue of his eyes. If she stared too long she feared she’d be under his spell, lost—and she might not care one bit.

  “Two people can easily get caught up in emotion—I mean, feelings—and do things they’d never do at other times.” She wished her voice didn’t sound like a see-saw.

  “Are you referring to the sex or the wedding?” His husky voice drove a honeyed dagger to all of her nooks and crannies. Wow, she didn’t realize she had that many.

  Feeling a flush crawl across her cheeks, she cleared her throat and dragged the hem of her skirt lower on her thigh, feeling exposed under his tormenting gaze. “I was referring to both.”

  “I guess you regret it?”

  “No, I…well, the marriage was a bit over the top.” No, she didn’t regret making love with the sexiest man she’d ever met. For the first time she’d followed her body and not her head.

  His killer grin sent goosebumps splashing across her skin. “Yeah, we certainly tested rationality, didn’t we?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She smiled. “I can’t quite remember who came up with the idea.”

  “I’ll take credit.” He winked.

  Oh holy mother of all that is good. The cowboy made her senseless with need. Her body pulsated and turned moist. She was already part way to an orgasm with just the sound of his Texas twang and his beautiful eyes. And she wanted it all now. Remembering how her body had responded to him, his touch, his kisses, made her throw out any doubt. He’d done sexy, erotic things with her. Showed her new positions. Wicked ways of taking a man even deeper inside of her body.

  Was the AC working?

  She’d married a man because he was sexy as hell and good in bed. It was almost funny if it wasn’t her life at stake.

  He was watching her closely and the distance between them seemed to narrow. Oh how she wanted to make love with him again, feel his large body pressing against her, kissing her roughly, sampling her with is explorative tongue, tweaking her breasts and nipples hard enough to draw up fantasies of being tied up. She wanted to wrap her legs around his back, feel his huge, callused hands on her bare thighs, accept his large cock inside of her wet body. She wanted it rough and fast. Wanted to ease the need that boiled within her.

  Get ahold of yourself!

  “It really doesn’t matter. We both walked into that chapel,” she said.

  “Ever marry anyone in Vegas before?”

  She gave her head a shake, then tugged tendrils of hair behind her ear. “No. Have you?”

  “Nope. Apparently I’m a little dangerous being this far away from home.” He smiled, making her insides tremble. It was almost unbearable. Tiny creases appeared at the corners of his eyes.

  “Where’s home in Texas?” She was curious, although it was best to know as little as possible.

  “Colton. You?”

  She blinked twice. Don’t tell him. Don’t tell him. “Chicago.” The words tumbled from her lips.

  “A city girl, huh?” She felt instantly judged. “I should have guessed as much.”

  “I was here speaking at a workshop.”

  He gave a quite laugh and shifted in his boots. “On?”

  “Marriage.”

  His laughter made her want to hide under the sheet. “You certainly did examine marriage, didn’t you?”

  “I’m also here promoting a book.” She moistened her lips. “A self-help book on making relationships stronger.” Damn, could she just stop talking.

  “Interesting.” There went that palm across his chin and she gulped back air, resisting the need to squirm. “You have a lot of life experience, don’t you?”

  Their gazes locked. “No, not from experience. Just so we’re clear, I’ve never been married before, not even engaged.”

  “Hey, I’m not judging you.”

&n
bsp; “Then stop,” she mumbled. “You were the one who asked.”

  “And you agreed,” he pointed out.

  “I didn’t say yes, not technically.”

  “Oh, is that your expert opinion on how you’re not at fault? This should be great to add to another book,” he snapped. “Was I research?”

  “No. I didn’t do this for a book.”

  His nostrils flared. “It’s not like I make a habit out of coming here and getting married.”

  “We screwed up. A lot of people do their first marriage.” She had to say something.

  He shrugged. “For some of us the second time around.”

  “You were married before?” She sat straight, feeling a stab of betrayal. “How could you not tell me this?”

  One thick brow lifted. “Should I have told you while we were in bed in the throttles of orgasm, or while I was slipping the ring on your finger? I had all of ten minutes in between.”

  She sighed, slumping her shoulders, her eyes naturally falling to the thick band that had the signs of wear and tear in the metal. It was a little loose, but seemed almost natural on her finger. She rolled it around and around. “Right. Where did the ring come from?”

  “I’ve had it since I joined the circuit.” He held up his right hand, showing off the white tan line on his pinky.

  She swallowed against the constriction in her throat. “Why would you give me your ring?”

  He shrugged. “We needed something to seal the deal.”

  He seemed so casual about the action that it made her heart skip a beat. “I should give it back.” She slid the band from her finger, laying it in the center of her palm, testing its weight. It was heavy.

  “If you don’t want it.”

  “If we were really married…perhaps…”

  “The marriage isn’t real? I’d say it’d hold up in court.”

  She nibbled lightly on her bottom lip, carefully considering his words. “I’m sure an annulment is the best way to end this.” She held out her hand, the metal glinting in the sunlight from the window.

  He hesitated and for a second she wondered if he’d take it from her. Then he took three steps toward her, their gazes connected as he reached for the ring and slipped it back onto his pinky. She inhaled deeply and caught a lungful of his spicy scent, giving her a clear image of him spreading her thighs and dipping his tongue deep into her mound. She’d like for him to explore her, lick and kiss her most secret spot. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Yes?” His grin deepened.

  She’d just whimpered aloud. “I mean, yes, that’s where the ring belongs.” She involuntarily rolled her fingers over her empty finger, remembering how the band had felt on. “I’ll take care of the details for the annulment.”

  He nodded. “Okay.

  She turned her face up to him, wanting to say something, but not sure what a woman says at a moment like this. She’d been screwed amazingly, married and divorced all in the matter of twenty-four hours. In fact, the most awkward part was that she was on fire to be fucked by him again—again and again. She was so turned on that she could smell her juices flowing between her legs. How did he manage to sink so deep in her veins, her body, with just one night?

  She opened her mouth, not sure what would come out. “Roman…”

  “Pippa…”

  “I’m sorry, you go first.” She had been on the brink of saying something that probably would have changed the direction of this conversation.

  He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets and tipped his head slightly to the side. “If you ever need anything, look me up. I mean that.”

  Oh no. He would be leaving soon. Why didn’t she want that? A whimper fell off her lips. He looked vulnerable, almost sad, standing there. She had a strong urge to hug him, kiss away that expression that seemed out of place for a tough, brawny cowboy.

  She didn’t move a muscle.

  His chest rose and fell as he dragged in air. “I better get going. I have an early meeting.” He pulled his thumbs out of his pockets and squared his shoulders, cocking his chin in a determined tilt.

  He turned and, before he reached the door, he stopped by the table, dug into his back pocket and pulled out his billfold. She watched in curiosity as he dropped a piece of paper and left, quietly.

  She finally stood and went to the table, seeing that he’d left a business card. Lifting it, she read the bold, black writing…

  Roman Jericho. Second Chances Securities.

  She had his phone number and address. He was only being nice offering to help if she needed anything. That was all.

  And yet, he’d seemed so sincere.

  She obviously couldn’t trust herself. If word got out that she’d married a stranger, her career would be destroyed. It was a good thing she knew how to do things privately.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “WHAT THE HELL did you do? Toss your career away over a cowboy?”

  Pippa looked over her plate of grilled chicken and roasted potatoes at her manager, Sal, who was eyeing her as if she had red skin and horns. She lowered her eyes to the newspaper he’d all but tossed at her. She slid on her glasses and staring back at her from the black and white cover was a poorly shot picture of her and Roman walking out of the wedding chapel. Above it, in bold headlines, “Relationship Guru Ropes a Cowboy.”

  She was no longer hungry and she pushed her plate away.

  “Were you going to tell me about this, or were you hoping I’d miss the fact that you married a man you had just met?” He stabbed the paper with a beefy finger, shaking his balding head in irritation. Although she’d rubbed him the wrong way many times over the last few years, she’d never quite seen him as red-faced and annoyed as he was now. She almost felt sorry for him—almost.

  “It’s not like it seems,” she answered softly. She’d realized long ago it was best to stay calm in the eye of the storm.

  “Oh, so the marriage didn’t happen and we can sue this dirty rag for a false story?” He lifted a wiry brow.

  She placed her hands palm down on the table. “No, I didn’t say that. The marriage did happen. I planned to tell you, but I only got home last night. Roman and I agreed to annul the marriage.”

  “Oh, so Casanova is agreeable? How do you know this cowboy isn’t in it to earn quick cash? If he feels he can gain in this—”

  “Stop there.” She held up a hand. “Roman isn’t the kind of man to do that, and he isn’t hard up for money. I’m a small fry compared to his family.”

  “His family?”

  “The Jericho cowboys. Rodeo stars. Ring a bell?”

  “Honey, the last time I watched a man on a bull, I was at a club and we dropped coins in to see it buck.”

  “Trust me, this will all be over and forgotten soon enough.”

  “Pippa, from the looks of this Casanova I can see why you’d want to take a ride on his pony, but I hope the memory of that one night with the big, brawny cowboy certainly keeps you warm when you lose everything. You can forget about any more conferences, and the new release, kiss that goodbye, baby. Who’ll want to get relationship advice from someone who finds a husband in Vegas? In fact, didn’t you write in your last book that two people need time to get to know one another before they make a commitment to marriage?”

  She felt like she’d be sick.

  “I was under the influence of Roman Jericho when I forgot everything, even my own name. Enough said.” This was a nightmare. She leaned back into the chair. Since Roman had walked out of her suite, she’d thought of nothing else but him and their marriage. Not the annulment that she should be focusing on. Only of his strong arms and husky voice. His touch. How gentle he was for a giant of a man. “I made a mistake.”

  “A mistake?” His voice rose in tone, making her inner ear tingle. “You call this a mistake? This is a nuclear bomb and it has dropped in the middle of your life. Even I can’t fix this one.”

  “The public will see that I’m human.”

  He patted her hand
. “Listen, sweetie, if you don’t live by your word, no one will.” He blinked, his face turning redder. He sighed and blew out a long breath. “Is that what you truly believe? They’ll write this off as you being human?”

  She tossed his words around. Carefully weighing her options. Considering how she’d feel on the other side of the fence. “No, they won’t.” They would crucify her. “Have you read anything on social media?”

  Wrinkles appeared around his eyes. “It’s not good.”

  “I’m still on for the interview next week, right?”

  “No cancelations yet, but that’s only if...” he looked down, thrumming his fingers on the table.

  “What?”

  “We kick into damage control mode.” His eyes were on hers and he’d lost some of his anger as his brain worked. He was a master at manipulating the public.

  “Damage control?” She was feeling queasier by the second.

  “Hear me out.”

  She nodded and prepared herself. “I’m all ears.”

  “I think I can convince the public that you and Roman Jericho have been dating for a while, secretly. You wanted to keep it hidden from the media considering you wanted a private relationship. Yet, for this to work, there’s something you’re going to have to do. Tell me if you’re willing to do what needs done.”

  “Yes.”

  *****

  Roman hitched himself up on the fence and watched as his brothers squabbled over an issue with the livestock. He’d been back on the ranch for less than twelve hours and it was good to see things were the same. He laughed as he adjusted his scrawny butt on the wood and propped his boots on the second plank. He’d taken the day off from SCS, not feeling he was up for crunching numbers and looking through security data. He needed the time to rewire his brain after his experience. He hadn’t told a soul what he’d done while away, and he didn’t plan to. He wasn’t sure how easy an annulment was to happen, but he expected that Pippa would take care of it ASAP.