Cowboy's Barmaid: A Small Town Military Romance (Lucky Flats Ranchers Book 2)

by Piper Sullivan

  The idea of having generations of servants was too foreign for her to comprehend. She wouldn’t know what to do with a maid if she were rich enough to have one.

  After several minutes of sitting together, something dawned on her. The air of elite mystery faded from Roman the longer they talked. His posture had grown more casual; his tall, muscular body leaned into the chair instead of sitting ramrod straight. When he tilted his head to gaze at her, her tightly wound nerves almost snapped from the added tension.

  She searched for a word to describe him. Overall, his tall, thick build said he was more suited to playing professional football rather than sitting behind a desk. But something else lurked, just beneath the surface, almost like an internal aura.

  Dangerous, her mind unexpectedly supplied. She bit her lip at the sudden revelation. He smiled, amused and calm, across from her and she found herself wondering if perhaps he could read her mind. She definitely hoped not.

  “If you work for me, I want my work to be your only focus. You’ll be living here with me in my country home until the project is finished. I have several locations all over the city that I want you to explore,” his explanation brooked no room for negotiations. He demanded what he wanted and expected her to agree to his terms. That told her that he was a man used to getting exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it.

  His face held a blank, brooding expression while she simply studied him. Confidence washed off him in large, rolling waves. He wasn’t a man to take refusal lightly. Yes, she wanted this job; however, she wondered if perhaps she could get what she wanted as well.

  “Can you agree to my terms?” he asked after a few moments of prolonged silence; a sudden impiety marring his face. “I don’t tolerate deception or slacking off. You should know that I’m very good at discipline.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. She wanted to ask just what kind of discipline he administered but felt like the question could be taken as flirtation and that was the last thing she wanted to do with her potential new boss.

  So, she nervously shifted her eyes to her lap and smoothed at invisible wrinkles until she’d worked up the nerve to add her own request. She had no idea what she’d do if he declined.

  “If I do this, may I research the Midnight Den?” she asked forcefully.

  His response was the arching of one brow and nothing more.

  “You can research what I allow you access to, but you’ll be required to sign a non- disclosure agreement,” he relented. “But if you try to publish anything with information that I haven’t approved, then I will bury you in lawsuits.” His words carried the underlying threat plainly.

  “Okay,” she said, swallowing the hard lump in her throat. “Deal.”

  His gray eyes burned into her. “Good. I hear Robert coming with the coffee. Let’s discuss details after paperwork. Josephine?”

  “Yes?” she leaned forward.

  He grinned maliciously, but his face held a supreme seriousness that made the fine hairs on the nape of her neck stand at full attention.

  “Don’t fall in love with me.”

  Chapter 4

  Josephine worked best in the early morning hours. She composed four neat stacks of texts that she’d pulled off of Roman’s library walls and devoured them, making notes in the journal next to her along the way. After two hours of being seated behind a long, mahogany table, her legs begged her for a break.

  She obeyed and walked along the wall that sported a sprawling window. Her eyes flickered to a funny glint in the reflective glass.

  She turned on her heel and walked over to a small shelf that contained a few carved figures, but her attention was stolen by a small bit of gold. Her fingers itched to touch it.

  Upon closer inspection, she saw it was a pendant with the same symbols as those marring the front gate and door, the marking of the Midnight Den. She brushed her hand over it and found the surface was cool, but pulsing with a humming energy she was reluctant to call her own imagination. Suppressing rational thought, she lifted it into her hands for a closer study.

  The symbol was carved deeply into the surface with the crescent moon dipping down, as if it were a separate piece that could be pressed downward. She glanced around the room and towards the open door that led to the hall.

  Feeling confident that nobody was around, she pressed it gently and to her surprise, it moved fluidly.

  She yelped when a pinch of pain unexpectedly struck her finger, and then watched as a tiny stream of blood poured out of the injury. Her eyes shot back to the pendant and she realized her wound was caused by a hidden blade that had been released when she’d depressed the button.

  The blade was small, but the nick stretched across the meaty pad her finger. She groaned as the red liquid pooled and dripped on the floor, a surprising amount for what appeared to be such a minor wound. She cursed and set the pendant down, trying her best not to smear blood on it.

  The sound of rushing footsteps echoed in the hallway. She’d barely lifted her head when Roman came barrelling in, his eyes wild. A worried glare pinched his face and as he approached her, she noticed his labored breaths.

  “I heard you scream,” he muttered darkly. “What’s wrong?”

  “I accidentally cut myself,” she explained timidly and lifted her bloody finger. “There was a golden pendant with a hidden blade in it. I didn’t realize it was booby-trapped until after I pressed it.”

  His gaze flew to her hand and a strange expression flitted across his face. Her stomach dropped as his eyes clouded like a sky just before a thunderstorm. His soft grey orbs deepened to an almost black.

  “Let me look at that,” he commanded hoarsely and took a step toward her.

  She regarded him nervously as he approached. “Roman? Are you okay?” she asked with a frown. He took another step towards her. The odd look on his face her pause, but her body was betraying her. Her core swelled with desire as her eyes processed the hunger in his face. His handsome features were contorted into a dazed, raw expression that shook her to the bone.

  He’d moved so close that their chests were nearly touching now. He gripped her hand with a gentle force and raised her finger to his mouth. She inhaled sharply when his tongue ran out to lick up the blood. When she tried to pull away, his other hand came up and cupped the small of her back. He pressed her into him, the friction causing her to gasp in pleasure. His gaze flew to her. She felt heat in her cheeks as she realized the arousal in her own sound.

  But, his lips found a new expanse of her skin to torment. He pulled her into a searing kiss. When she gasped this time, his tongue slipped in and her skin erupted with pleasure. The faint hint of metal haunted his lips, but the feeling of his body against her own was the only thing she could concentrate on.

  She shouldn’t be doing this, but she was. Her mind had gone offline, disconnected completely as an unfamiliar part of herself fought for dominance. Their kiss was filled with passion, burning her from the inside out. Her bit her lip and she let out a strangled moan.

  Suddenly, he pulled back. The hazy look in his eyes had cleared. He stared at her and she felt her bottom lip swell with delicious pain, longing for him to kiss her again.

  “Josephine,” he whispered breathlessly. Her blissful fog dissipated as she realized the fear brimming beneath his handsome face. His hands gripped her by shoulders as he leaned in with a scowl. “Forget that ever happened,” he demanded and then was gone.

  She stared, blinking owlishly as if waking from a dream, at the doorway he’d left through. Her mind reeled with confusion.

  She’d just kissed her new boss. Or he’d kissed her. She pressed a hand to the side of her face, feeling her skin turn clammy. Minutes passed. She hovered like that for nearly a half hour before realizing that the shadows had changed in the room and she was running out of time. Work always brought her back and she needed to be grounded.

  Each stack of books needed to be tackled. She ripped a text open with a forceful movement and let her eyes run free
over its pages. On the second book, she finally felt her breath start to return to normal. Her chest rose and fell as she nestled back into the routine of research.

  Still, his eyes haunted her; the feeling of his raw energy as it pulsated from his body, sliding across hers like an electrical shock. She closed her eyes and remembered the way his lips felt against her own. Her blunt teeth worried at her bottom lip and she realized it was still swollen from where he’d nibbled earlier.

  She absently toyed the spot with her tongue as she grabbed another book, trying to shake the striking memory from her brain.

  She’d never seen a man that wild before. His eyes were all she could think about when she drifted off to sleep that night.

  Chapter 5

  It’d been a full day since she’d seen Roman after the incident in the library. She watched her face turn pink in the mirror as she brushed her hair. The early morning light filtered in through a window in her guest room. She glanced around the room, a luxurious room that was a far cry from her cozy apartment. On the vanity, she’d placed a few picture frames of her family and friends. The uncertainty of how long she’d be staying here haunted her.

  How long did she have to find the document? He hadn’t given her a specific date, but he seemed to be anxious about it. What he needed it for, he hadn’t disclosed to her. She frowned and fingered the soft skin of her cheek, warm against her chilly fingertips. Would he even want her to stay after what had happened between them?

  Her phone buzzed with a message from Clara asking how things were going. Josephine heaved a sigh and put the phone away, making a note to reply later when she had a clearer mind. She stared at her computer bag that was sitting on her made bed.

  Acting on impulse, she sat down beside the bag and pulled the computer into her lap. She opened the lid and booted the device up, nervously watching the door as the machine took its sweet time.

  The mansion might’ve looked pre-Internet, but the connection was surprisingly fast. She quickly typed “Roman Williams” into the search bar and watched as the results flew up; pages upon pages of references to the elusive man. Unsuccessfully suppressing the guilt, she began clicking on news reports.

  “Roman Williams Lunches with Models,” she read aloud from a gossip magazine. She raised her eyebrows when she saw a photo of Roman lounging with two gorgeous blondes. Their legs were longer than she could ever hope for. She found a more reputable newspaper article from the city about his sponsorship of various projects.

  “He’s given a lot to historical projects,” she muttered aloud and scanned over the pictures of him with a few professors from the local university that she recognized. Although his face was posted alongside models or famous socialites half of the time, she noted that he seemed happier in his photos at public work events. She whistled in surprise when she found a picture of him, with his wry smile, among some colleagues that she’d studied with at university.

  How had she’d never come across him? Clara knew about him before she had. Maybe she should’ve spent more time outside of the library. With a tired groan, she put her computer away.

  Time for work. She dressed quickly in a long skirt that hitched at her waist and a tight blouse tucked into it. Roman had mentioned that Robert could fix her breakfast, but she headed off to the library immediately. Or at least, she tried to head off to the library.

  “Was this wall here before?” she puzzled, turning back from another dead end. She could’ve sworn that the library was down on the western wing of the house, but a suit of armor stared blankly at her from a corner with no books in sight. She went back up the stairs. Her mysterious employer’s quarters were nearby. The scent of his minty cologne filled her nostrils as she headed down the hall, padding cautiously in her flats.

  To the side, tucked away in a dim corner, she spotted a half-open door revealing bookshelves inside. She rested her hand above the doorknob with a pause. This wasn’t the library she’d been in yesterday...but it was filled with books that might be helpful. She took a deep breath and slipped inside.

  She was immediately taken aback by the sheer number of books lining every shelf. Various papers were crammed between anything with open space. The main library was organized down to the last tome, but this space was complete chaos. She approached a row of dusty spines and leaned forward to make out their faded letters.

  “Black magic,” she voiced with an unsure tone. Her brows furrowed. She moved on to the next row. Beast mythology, Supernatural studies, Bear magic, Bear symbolism and Bear mythology. She stared with wide eyes at the room around her.

  Roman Williams was a secret occultist? It was hard to imagine his handsome nose buried in any of these. A thick red text adorning the spine of another book caught her eye as she moved to the other side of the room. It was weathered, but well taken care of. She slipped it from its place and admired the front, a detailed gold drawing of a naked female form that held a crescent moon, almost like the Midnight Den’s symbol.

  The first page wasn’t blank. A note in elegant handwriting read: “To my sweet prince, You will rule with honor and glory. If you seek to find what I’ve left you then look toward your heart.” Next to the note, she puzzled over a strange illustration. Two thick dots with a dash between them. She’d never seen a symbol like that. It wasn’t like any emoticon she’d ever seen nor did it match any Morse Code symbol she’d studied or rune.

  A dull sound came from somewhere down the hall and she jumped like a burglar caught mid heist. She cursed under her breath and prayed she wasn’t about to get busted for snooping. She placed the book back on the shelf and rushed out of the room, relieved to see that no one was in the hall. She crept back down towards the staircase, but a heated voice from a nearby room caught her attention.

  “She has to go!” Roman’s muffled voice bellowed. She held her breath as her feet remained frozen to the Persian carpet beneath her. “I’ll find another historian.”

  Someone replied to him, in a quieter tone, but it was so low that she couldn’t hear it.

  “I can’t control myself. What if I turn?” Roman’s voice went quiet after that. He said something else, but she wasn’t waiting for him to raise his voice again. She darted down the stairs to her bedroom and slammed the door. Leaning back against it, she tried to calm her heaving chest.

  She had to prove to him that he needed her; that no one else had the necessary experience. Regardless of what had happened between them, if she let this opportunity go...

  She could help him. She knew that she could. There was nobody better at pulling research from the archives than her.

  Her hand found the phone in her room. Robert’s voice picked up after she dialed the number he’d left for her on the nightstand.

  “Yes, Ms. Baxter?” His smooth voice was devoid of any secrecy. Perhaps he hadn’t been the one that Roman was yelling at.

  “Robert, can you show me to the library? I think I have a lead,” she told him. She caught her reflection in the mirror, ruffled but determined.

  Chapter 6

  About half an hour later, Roman found her bent over sprawled maps that Robert had unlocked from an iron chest.

  “God’s teeth,” he said with a quick glance over the covered table. “You have the entire plans for the city out.”

  She smiled, keeping her eyes lowered on the carefully drawn illustrations. “I had a hunch.”

  “A hunch?” he questioned in a dry tone. “How quaint.”

  She ignored him and tried to bury the rising heat in her body as he pulled out a chair sat across from her. From the corner of her eye, she watched him lean across the diagrams, his face pinched in a scowl.

  “Are you avoiding me?” he asked. Her breath stalled in her throat as she finally raised her gaze to meet his. His glittering eyes sent her stomach into knots.

  “No,” she lied and then sighed. “You just seem to be in a bad mood.”

  He grunted. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

  They sat in silence as she retur
ned to scanning the documents while he merely watched. The weight of his eyes on her was excruciating. She pushed past the rising tension in her nerves and reached for another map beneath the one she’d just gone over.

  There.

  Right there, as if it had been waiting for her.

  “Roman!” she cried out with an excited gasp. He lurched forward, the sour expression replaced by intrigue.

  “What? What is it?” he demanded, squinting to make out the symbol that she was excitedly gesturing to.

  “This symbol,” she said in a rushed voice and then stopped. She couldn’t tell him that she’d snuck into his secret supernatural library. “I’ve...I’ve seen it somewhere else before. I think we need to investigate.”

  He swallowed her excuse and rose to trace his fingers over the lines.

  “This place,” he mused. “I’ve seen this symbol before as well, it marks something in my mother’s side of this house. Her rooms haven’t been touched since she passed away, when I was younger.”

  Her heart throbbed painfully. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know-”

  “It’s fine,” he said quickly. “Let’s go.”

  They abandoned the maps on the table and headed off into a wing that she’d never been in before. Unlike the rest of the estate house, it was dusty and dim.

  “Nobody cleans here,” he explained when he caught her staring at cobwebs that had gathered on the stairs. “My father refused to have anyone in here after my mother died. He wanted everything left just as it was when she’d last touched it.”

  “Oh,” she said. Silence lapsed between them as they headed further down the hall. “How long has it been? You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Twenty years? She passed away when I was seven years old. Robert would love to send a housekeeping team down here, but he respects my father too much to do that.”

  “Your father, where is he?”

  “He’s ill,” he answered slowly. “He’s with our private physician.”