The Last Cowboy Standing

by Barbara Dunlop

  “Don’t go,” Travis barked. “Let’s go someplace, let’s talk.”

  She gazed up at him, or rather through him. “I never want to speak to you again.”

  The car pulled up, and she moved to the curb.

  “Danielle,” he pleaded, straining toward her.

  Caleb’s grip tightened. “Not now,” he ordered in Travis’s ear.

  “I can’t let her go.”

  She opened the back door of the sedan.

  “You have to let her go.”

  As she climbed inside, Travis jerked free.

  “For now,” Caleb said to him. “For now.”

  Danielle slammed the door shut.

  Travis swore.

  “You’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Caleb offered.

  Travis swore again.

  “She’ll be at the Sunburst.” Caleb clasped him on the shoulder. “And you’ll talk to her in the morning.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Mandy said, surprising Travis with her presence. “I truly did not realize she could hear me.”

  He wanted to rail at his sister, demand to know what had happened, demand to know how she could have been so indiscreet. But he knew it wasn’t her fault. It was his fault.

  He wasn’t anything like Randal. But right now Danielle had no way of knowing that.

  “I have to talk to her,” he said out loud. He didn’t think he could wait until morning.

  “And say what?” asked Mandy, moving a little closer to him.

  He gazed down as his practical, pragmatic sister looked him square in the eyes. “And say what, big brother?”

  He didn’t understand the question.

  “That you’re in love with her?” Mandy asked.

  Something shifted inside Travis, the possibility opening up like sunshine on an early spring morning.

  In love with Danielle? How great would it be to be in love with Danielle? That would mean he could care for her, protect her. He could spend the rest of his life with her. They could live together, build a family like his siblings had done. He could grow old with Danielle by his side.

  “Travis?” Mandy interrupted softly.

  “She hates me,” he found himself saying.

  “She’s only angry,” Mandy countered.

  Travis hoped that was true. She’d been angry with him before, and he’d been able to reason with her. Maybe he could do it again this time.

  “I wasn’t wrong, you know,” he told his sister.

  “Wrong about what?”

  “To keep her out of D.C. To keep her with me instead of him.”

  “Maybe so,” Mandy allowed. “But I’m not sure that should be your opening line.”

  * * *

  Danielle gazed at the pink glow of the sun coming up over Lyndon City. She was curled up in an armchair, facing the picture window in her hotel room, wrapped in an oversized T-shirt. Checking in last night, she’d asked about buying something to sleep in and was given the shirt out of their storage room.

  It wasn’t until Danielle got to her room, that she realized it was left over from the mayor’s race. The shirt was roomy, long, nearly down to her knees, and emblazoned across the front it said JACOBS HAS MY VOTE. Now, she hugged it to herself, blinking away tears, pondering the irony.

  She’d fallen in love with Travis last night. She thought it must have happened while they were dancing. Then again, maybe it had happened at the rehearsal, or while they were shopping. Or maybe it had happened way back in Vegas.

  She didn’t really know, and it didn’t really matter. She was in love with Travis, and he’d betrayed her. The worst part was that he didn’t even understand what he’d done. He was so stubborn, so blind, so brazenly self-confident that it never occurred to him he could make a mistake.

  If Travis saw the world a certain way, then that was the way of the world. If anyone disagreed, then they were misguided. That conviction gave him license to manipulate people and events. He’d wanted her in Lyndon Valley, so here she was, in Lyndon Valley.

  Yet again, her mother was proven right. Men looked after their own interests. Women were on their own.

  Should she have seen this coming? Should she have guessed the depths of Caleb’s loyalty to Travis?

  Mentally debating what she should or should not have known, was exhausting. She knew she ought to care about her career. But all she knew at the moment was that she missed Travis. She loved him. Or at least she had loved him. For a brief magical time last night, they seemed to have a shining future.

  There was an abrupt knock on her hotel room door, and her nerves jolted to life. She gripped the arms of the chair, staying firmly in place, telling herself there wasn’t anyone she wanted to see right now.

  The knock came again, followed by Caleb’s voice. “Danielle? I brought you some things from the mansion.”

  She was disappointed, and she hated herself for feeling that way. She’d wanted it to be Travis. Even in the midst of his outrageous behavior, she wanted it to be him. How could she allow herself to be so weak?

  “Danielle?” Caleb called again.

  She pushed herself up from the chair, gritting her teeth in determination. She would need to talk to Caleb at some point. And she did need to get her things. Better to get it over with now. Then she could make a reservation back to Chicago.

  Bracing herself, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

  Her heart lurched in her chest when it was Travis standing in the hall.

  They both stared at each other. He looked as exhausted as she felt.

  “We need to talk,” he opened softly.

  She swallowed, struggling to find her voice. It was buried by heartbreak. “I don’t think I can.”

  “Then just listen.”

  She shook her head in denial. “You can’t do this to me, Travis.”

  “I want what’s best for you. I always have.”

  A little bit of her strength returned. “You’ve truly convinced yourself of that, haven’t you?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “No.”

  “We can’t leave it like this.”

  “Where’s your brother-in-law? Or should I say your partner in deceit?”

  “He knows I need to talk to you.”

  “End justifies the means?” she mocked. “Yet again?”

  “Let me explain. Hate me if you have to, but at least let me explain.”

  His beautiful, blue eyes were wide, and there was a vulnerability to his tone that wormed its way into her heart. She couldn’t find it in herself to refuse.

  Wordlessly, she stepped back, opening the door to him.

  He immediately came in, closing the door, pressing his back against it.

  For a minute, they both just stood there. His gaze flicked to her T-shirt, then to her bare legs below it. Something flared in her belly, and she hated herself for still desiring him.

  “I couldn’t let him have you,” Travis began, his tone unguarded.

  “That wasn’t your choice to make.”

  Not that Randal had a single chance of winning her back, especially after she’d come to know Travis. Randal was nothing to her anymore.

  “I was absolutely certain I was doing the right thing.”

  “You always are.”

  He nodded. “I knew you’d love working for Caleb. I knew Caleb would love having you there. It was a good fit. It was a win-win.”

  She found herself growing impatient. “Just admit i
t, Travis.”

  He jerked his head back. “Admit what?”

  “Quit with the ‘I did it for you’ and ‘I did it for Caleb.’ Just admit you wanted to sleep with me, so you found a way to keep me around.”

  He pushed away from the door, taking a couple of paces into the room. “Is that what you think?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  He faced her square on. “That I wanted you around? Sure. That’s the truth. But not so I could sleep with you.”

  “I was there, Travis, remember? I know what you wanted.”

  His expression softened. “Okay, yeah, I’d take you in my bed any day of the week.”

  Her stomach shimmered with desire again, and she fought the urge to throw herself into his arms. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted the night he’d promised her on the dance floor. Then she wanted a hundred more like it. She wanted Travis in her life every night and every day.

  “I wanted you Danielle.” His tone was husky. “I wanted everything about you. On some level.” He coughed a harsh laugh. “I guess I already knew I was in love with you.”

  Her mind screeched to a halt.

  “But I knew you wouldn’t marry a cowboy,” he continued.

  Wait, what? What was that part about loving her?

  “So,” he told her. “I settled for the next best thing. I was wrong.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I pretended I was right, because I wanted it so bad. And if you’d actually moved to D.C., I’d have had to move there too to keep an eye on Randal.”

  Her mind was still grappling with his declaration of love. He loved her? She wouldn’t marry him? How did he know she wouldn’t marry him?

  “Travis—”

  “I’m sorry, Danielle.” He reached for her shoulders, his touch light, cradling them ever so gently. By contrast, his tone was harsh. “But he can’t have you. I can never let him have you.”

  “Travis?”

  “Yes?” he choked out, faced pained, expression taut.

  “You should ask me to marry you.”

  He blinked in obvious bafflement, his jaw going lax.

  “I want you to ask me to marry you.”

  His expression remained taut. “Okay,” he started slowly. “Will you marry me, Danielle?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll marry you.”

  He gaped at her. “Why?”

  Her lips curved into a smile. “Because I’m in love with you.” She pressed her palm to his chest, covering his heart as she stepped closer. “I love you, Travis.”

  “I’m a cowboy.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re an intelligent, accomplished, world-class legal genius.”

  “So we both agree, I’m smart enough to know when I’m in love?”

  His arms slipped around her back. “You love me?”

  She moved into his arms, resting her body against his. “You better hope so, cowboy, since we’re engaged.”

  “We’re really engaged?”

  “Unless you want to take back your proposal.”

  His hands moved to cradle her cheeks. “Not on your life. And you’re not taking back your acceptance. We’re engaged, Danielle Marin, and I’m going to marry you just as soon as we can get in front of an official. Can you be ready in an hour?”

  “We’re not in Vegas anymore. I don’t think there’s a chapel in the lobby.”

  “Seth will marry us. And he can expedite the license.”

  “You want to marry me today?”

  “Yes. Absolutely. I don’t want you to change your mind.”

  He leaned in to place a soft, lingering kiss on her lips and she basked in his gentleness and his solid strength.

  “I’m not going to change my mind.”

  “I can’t take that chance.”

  “Okay,” she agreed on a whisper. “I’ll marry you just as soon as you want.”

  “I love you, Danielle.”

  Her heart squeezed tight in her chest. “Travis, I love you so much.”

  He smoothed back her hair. “My family’s already here. But, what about your family?”

  Danielle wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. “You want to argue with my mother about a prenup?”

  “You want a prenup?”

  “No. But she will.”

  He loosened his hold on her ever so slightly. “What do you want to do?”

  “Elope? No frills, a simple ring, a simple ceremony. It’s the outcome that matters to me, Travis, not the event.”

  He thought about it for a moment. “Can we tell my family before we go?”

  “Sure. Maybe Katrina and Reed can come with us.”

  A smile grew on Travis’s face. “We will need witnesses. Vegas?”

  “On the deck at Jacque Alanis?”

  “Katrina will make us go dancing.”

  “As long as you hold me close.”

  “I’ll hold you close, Danielle,” he vowed, enfolding her in his arms. “I’m going to hold you close forever.”

  * * * * *

  Pick up these other stories in the COLORADO CATTLE BARONS series from USA TODAY bestselling author Barbara Dunlop:

  A COWBOY COMES HOME

  A COWBOY IN MANHATTAN

  AN INTIMATE BARGAIN

  MILLIONAIRE IN A STETSON

  A COWBOY’S TEMPTATION

  All available from Harlequin Desire!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A MERGER BY MARRIAGE by Cat Schield.

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  One

  With his arm stretched across the back of the black leather couch, JT Stone sipped one of Rick’s signature cocktails and brooded over a woman.

  Tonight Violet Fontaine wore a black, skin-tight mini with long sleeves and a neckline that concealed her delicate collarbones. Despite the snug fit, the dress looked modest when viewed from the front. But the back of the dress. Oh, the back. A wide V bared an expanse of golden skin, crisscrossed by spaghetti thin straps from her nape to the indent of her waist. As he suspected the design intended, his gaze was drawn to the curve of her tight, round backside.

  His fingers twitched as he imagined holding those luscious curves in his hands. Before he’d met Violet six years ago he’d been a diehard breast and thigh man. These days he was on a mission to find a butt better than hers. To date he hadn’t found one. Good thing she had no idea what she did to him or he might lose something more irreplaceable than his favorite bartender.

  The resident mixologist of Fontaine Chic’s lobby bar Baccarat, Rick was a genius when it came to creating unique cocktails. Tonight JT was having Rick’s version of a dirty martini in the lounge. His excuse for showing up six nights a week was that he was wooing Rick back to Titanium where he belonged.

  JT finished the last of his drink. Who was he kidding? In the year since Rick had switched employers, JT was here most nights because Violet swung thro
ugh on her rounds at exactly eleven-fifteen and lingered to chat with the clientele. As the proprietor of the Fontaine Chic, she was very hands-on.

  “Another drink, JT?” The waitress cocked her head and smiled warmly at him.

  “Sure.” Why not? He nodded toward Violet. “And whatever she’s drinking.”

  Charlene followed his gaze. “You know she doesn’t drink when she’s working.”

  “Maybe tonight she’ll make an exception for me.”

  “Maybe.” But Charlene’s tone said something completely different.

  “Would you send her over?”

  The nightly ritual made the waitress’s lips curve in wry humor. “Sure.”

  Violet herself brought his drink over, setting it before him with practiced ease. “Rick said this is what you’re drinking tonight.”

  “Will you join me?”

  When she shook her head, the diamond drops dangling from her earlobes swayed seductively. “I’m working.”

  “And I’m your best customer.”

  “You’re a fan of Rick’s, not Fontaine Chic.”

  “I’m a fan of you,” he murmured and her eyes widened briefly as if startled by his admission. Was it possible she was oblivious to his interest? Not one of the waitresses thought he came here every night just to drink.

  It did no good to remind himself that he liked his women curvy, blonde and agreeable. That with her long lean frame inherited from her showgirl mother and her father’s wavy brown hair, she was not his type. Or that her strong-willed personality had been cultivated by his estranged uncle, Tiberius Stone, her surrogate father. A man who blamed JT’s father for orchestrating his disinheritance.

  “You can take a couple minutes,” he said, gesturing to the empty space beside him.

  Her eyebrow arched at his implied command, but she settled sideways on the couch and crossed her long legs. She’d fastened her waist-length hair into a high, sleek ponytail. The look was both modern and retro and showed off her large brown eyes and bold cheekbones to great advantage.

  With the toe of her black stiletto a mere inch from his pant leg, she propped her elbow on the back of the couch, rested her cheek on her palm and waited for him to speak. Quick to smile, she was the most upbeat, optimistic person he’d ever met. She was sunlight to his shadow. Forever close, always untouchable.