COWBOY ROMANCE: Avery (Western Contemporary Alpha Male Bride Romance) (The Steele Brothers Book 3)

by Amanda Boone

There was no doubt in her mind that she would love to be in his arms, would adore being his lover, but she needed to keep her distance until he recovered. If anything bad happened to him because she relented, she would carry that guilt with her for the rest of her life.

  “Elise?” he asked, bringing her from her introspection. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m sorry, Moya. I was just thinking.”

  “Aren’t you tired after all the time you’ve been taking care of me?”

  “I’m exhausted.”

  “Den lie down. Ve vill sleep for a vile.”

  With Moya lying under the covers in his nightshirt, Elise thought it best to lie atop the blanket. If nothing else, that would dissuade him for making any move toward sex. She laid her head on his left shoulder, and he wrapped that arm around her. His hand felt around on the back of her head until he found the large, ivory hairpin her father had given her. He pulled it out and released her locks from their bun.

  “Isn’t it better to sleep vitout dat?”

  Stifling a yawn, she said, “Yes, it’s much better.”

  For several minutes they simply lay in that position, with Elise on her right side and Moya toying with her hair. Then he rolled onto his left side and scooted down in the bed a little bit so their faces were right beside each other. He kissed her lightly on the lips.

  Even that peck felt good. In her dreams, though, it had been more passionate. Oh, how she wished they could join as they had at the river! She longed to show him how much she appreciated him and wanted him to know beyond a doubt that she loved him—at least, she thought it was love.

  Chapter 15

  When she didn’t complain, he kissed her again. This time he put some passion in his embrace, wrapping his arms around her and rolling onto his back. His tongue entered her mouth for a much wanted reunion with hers. No man had ever kissed her like Moya did, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

  Unable to restrain herself, she maneuvered to lay atop him, and he groaned with pleasure when her thigh brushed his covered, excited manhood.

  Then he grasped her head, his right hand a little tighter than his left, and broke the kiss, asking, “Ven vill dey be home?”

  “Not for a while,” she replied in a whisper.

  “Good.”

  He pulled her face to his again, and Elise kissed him this time. She was a bit surprised by her desire to do so, but she slipped her tongue into his mouth, where it clashed with his. Straddling his legs, she moved against his organ as he moaned with pleasure.

  His hands caressed her shoulders as she lay atop him. Then he pushed her away slowly, until their kiss broke. He continued to push her up until she sat astride his organ. His hands moved to her breasts, and he fondled them through the fabric of her clothes.

  Unable to stop herself, she watched as he unbuttoned first her bodice then her petticoat and her camisole. Finally, her breasts were free, and he caressed them, using his thumbs to taunt the nipples into hardness.

  Under her, he moved, rotating his hips in a methodical pattern. Her body reacted of its own accord now, and she ground against him, her own excitement growing. She could hardly bare the feelings coursing through her.

  Moya sat up slowly and kissed her nipple. Then he moved to the other one, which he suckled on until Elise couldn’t help but release a moan of pleasure. He moved back to the first breast and sucked on it. His hands cupped and kneaded her ample mounds.

  Suddenly, he stopped, stripped his nightshirt over his head, and threw it on the floor. She wanted to feel him—all of him—body against body, with no clothes or blankets to separate them. Sitting on his manhood, she worked her clothes out from between them and disrobed for him. He watched with an awed expression when Elise finally sat naked on him.

  “Herregud, Elise. Du är vacker.”

  She translated in her head. My God, Elise. You are beautiful. No man had ever told her that before. Then again, no man had ever seen her nude before. His hands slid up her sides to cup her breasts again. His right hand caressed her with gusto, but his left hand had almost no power in it. Elise briefly wondered what was wrong with it.

  Before she knew what was happening, he pushed the covers down and her hot, wet vagina sat directly on his erect penis. She gyrated on him, watching him writhe beneath her, his face contorted with ecstasy.

  His right hand slipped across her thigh and around to her buttocks, where he squeezed her gently.

  “Get off me just a little,” he said, his voice cracking.

  Elise was startled by his order. “Why? Don’t you like what I’m doing?”

  “I love vat you’re doing, but I’ll love someting else more. Do it, and I’ll show you vat I’m talking about.”

  She lifted herself on her knees slightly, and the tip of his organ taunted her excited passage.

  “Now you can sit down,” he said.

  Slowly, afraid that the pain that she had at the river would return, she impaled herself on his long, hard manhood. But there was no pain, only Moya’s organ filling her so deeply that she felt as though it was in her stomach.

  She moved on him again—pulling up and sitting, pulling up and sitting—over and over as her body took control. Bracing herself on Moya’s chest, she moved faster and faster. His kneaded on her left breast and toyed with the nipple of her right breast.

  The sensations she had at the river were even stronger today. She continued her motions. Then Moya matched her movements by thrusting into her each time she lowered herself onto him.

  She couldn’t wait—not a moment longer. Her womanhood exploded in the throes of her orgasm, throbbing and convulsing around Moya’s penis. He bored into her and held her buttocks down as though he didn’t want her to move.

  At last, she collapsed onto him, completely spent from their joining. When his penis grew soft and separated from her naturally, she rolled off him onto her side.

  “I can’t believe I let you convince me to do that,” she said, still panting slightly from the exertion.

  “It didn’t take much convincing,” he replied. “I hate to say this, but we need to dress—in case somebody comes home.”

  Once Moya was back in his nightshirt and Elise had redressed, she brought a chair from the kitchen table and set it by the bed, determined not to make the mistake of lying down with him again.

  Now she needed to be his nurse. To concentrate on that, she untied the bandage from around his head and worked in silence to check his wound. It was fine, so she replaced the dressings and sat on the chair.

  “Is everyting all right there?” Moya asked.

  “Fine,” she replied shortly, uncertain how to react now.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you dis time, Elise. I hadn’t planned for dat to happen.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “Are you angry vit me?”

  “Of course not,” she said quickly. “I am worried about you, though.”

  “Vy?”

  “Your hands. One hand is stronger than the other. Have you told Dr. Frey about it?”

  “No.”

  “You must. I’m going to get him, and you’re going to explain every ache, pain, or other issue that might have a connection with your injury. That includes telling him about your hand strength.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a sharp salute.

  Chapter 16

  With Elise out of the room, Moya explained his problem to Dr. Frey. He didn’t know, however, that Elise was right outside the room listening.

  “I can no longer do tings vit my left hand,” Moya said sadly. “I can’t hold anyting heavy. I couldn’t swing an axe or use a saw. I don’t know how I vill support a vife.”

  “This may be temporary, Mr. Sten,” Dr. Frey told him, “just like I told you that your memory loss might be temporary.”

  “And if my strengt never comes back? Vat vill I do?”

  “When you first came to, you couldn’t speak English, either. Now listen to you. You’re doing quite well. I’m con
fident that you will regain your strength.”

  “Until den, I can’t take a bride.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “More dan anyting, but I can’t burden her.”

  Elise wandered to the kitchen. Their conversation was making her nervous. Undoubtedly, Moya was speaking about her, and Dr. Frey probably knew it. Moya, however, had never spoken of marriage with her, and she couldn’t get her hopes up. Besides, Lars was courting her, as well; and Lars would undoubtedly fight for her hand. After all, he had asked her to come to Forestville so he could marry her—at least, that’s what he had told her.

  But she didn’t want to marry him; she never had. He’d asked her to come and bring friends in his letter, but he’d not mentioned a thing about her marrying him in it. What bothered her most is that he intended to marry her without mentioning love.

  Moya, on the other hand, told her that he loved her but hadn’t mentioned marriage.

  A knock at the door startled her, and Elise went to answer it. To her dismay, Lars stood on the porch. She turned from the door as he entered.

  “I went to Dr. Frey’s office earlier, Elise. I wanted to see how Moya was feeling. Dr. Frey told me that he’s come here to recuperate.”

  “That’s true. Dr. Frey is with him right now.”

  “Would you mind if I visit with him privately for a few minutes when Doc is done?”

  “That would be Moya’s decision, not mine. When Dr. Frey leaves, I’ll ask Moya if he’s up to visitors.” Elise paused as Lars took off his coat and sat on a kitchen chair. “Would you like coffee while you wait?”

  “Sure.”

  Elise busied herself with the coffee to avoid talking to Lars. After what happened with Moya at the river and that afternoon, she wasn’t certain she wanted to so much as converse with Lars. If she didn’t, though, he would wonder what was wrong, and she definitely couldn’t tell him.

  Taking some cream from the icebox, she set it and the mug of coffee before him, then she sat down on another chair and crossed her forearms on the table. They chatted about inconsequential things, with Lars telling her about how hard it was to saw through giant redwood trees without one of the strongest men on the crew. If Moya was gone much longer, Lars claimed, almost every man on the crew was going to be too sore to work.

  Lars continued talking until Dr. Frey came out of her bedroom. Elise scrambled to her feet to greet him.

  “How is he, Dr. Frey?” she asked in concern.

  “Weak on one side, and he still can’t remember anything. I keep telling him that, if he does remember, he needs to let the sheriff know.”

  “Why?” Lars asked.

  “Because Moya was assaulted, and he needs to report it.”

  “I thought a falling limb hit him.”

  “That isn’t possible. He had no bark in his wound, and he would have if a limb had hit him.”

  “Really? That’s odd because I threw a limb away from his head when I found him.”

  “That’s why I know he was assaulted. No bark.” Dr. Frey turned to Elise and said, “He smelled the coffee you made and would like some—with cream and a spoon of sugar, he said.”

  “All right,” she said, rising. “I’ll see if he would like to talk to you while I’m in there, Lars.”

  “Thanks,” Lars replied.

  Elise was gone only a couple of minutes when she returned to tell Lars that Moya would enjoy seeing somebody other than herself and the doctor. Lars went into the room alone, but Elise stayed out. For some reason, she had a bad feeling about his visit, and she didn’t want to be in the room to limit their conversation. She wanted to hear what they had to say to one another. With the doctor gone, she stole over to the bedroom door.

  Lars started the conversation on a light note, saying, “How are you feeling, pal?”

  “Tanks to de laudanum,” Moya replied. “I don’t have a lot of pain. It makes me tired and makes my mind muddled, but dat’s better dan hurting like I did.”

  “I understand you’ve lost some of your strength. Does Doc think it will come back?”

  “You aren’t here to ask about my healt,” Moya said. “You’re here to see vat I remember.”

  “I understand you don’t remember anything. At least, that’s what Doc just told me.”

  “Dat’s because Doc doesn’t know dat I remember. I remember very vell dat you argued vit me and told me dat somevon saw me at de river vit Elise. I remember dat you carried a board.” Moya paused before he announced his most damning memory. “Most important, I remember dat you said you vould kill me if I didn’t leave Elise alone.”

  “You must have dreamed that,” Lars said. “Or it was a hallucination. Either way, I didn’t say it.”

  “You said it, Lars. After you did, I told you dat I would never leave Elise. Dat’s ven I turned avay. Dat’s ven I saw you bring up the board. I tried to duck, but you still hit me. Yust before I blacked out, you said, ‘Die, you bastard.’ I remember it all.”

  “But you didn’t die,” Lars said.

  “No, I didn’t. Now you vill tell Elise dat you can’t court her anymore.”

  “Why do you think I would do that?”

  “Because if you don’t,” Moya replied firmly, “I vill tell de sheriff dat you tried to kill me. Dat vould be attempted murder. You vill tell Elise, and you vill never see her again. If you don’t, I vill have you arrested. Attempted murder has a yail sentence vit it.”

  “That would alienate Elise completely.”

  “I don’t know alienate, but I tink she vill tank me. Now leave, and leave de door open. I vant to hear you tell her.”

  Elise hurried back to her seat in the kitchen. When Lars came out of the room a few seconds later, leaving the door open, he joined her.

  “I hope you aren’t too upset, Elise,” he said. “I know I asked you to come all the way here, and you did it thinking we would marry, but I’ve found someone else.”

  “Actually, Lars, I already suspected that,” she replied. “We’ve been growing apart for some time now. All I’ve ever wanted for you is for happiness, and if you’re happy with another woman, I’m happy for you.”

  Chapter 17

  “Vill du gifta dig med mig, Elise?” Moya asked, holding her hand as she sat beside him on the bed. Then he repeated the words in English. “Vill you marry me? I love you more than life itself, and I vant to spend de rest of my life vit you.”

  She smiled. “I know for sure now, Moya. I love you, too. Ja, jag kommer gifta mig med dig. I will absolutely marry you. I don’t have a single reservation about it.”

  “But I can’t use my hand vell. I can’t support you right now.”

  “Then I’ll support you until you either heal or learn a new trade. You told me that you wanted to be a woodworker. Surely, you wouldn’t need nearly as much strength in your hand for that profession. Why don’t you try it?”

  “Before we marry, dere’s someting you should know.”

  “About Lars?” Moya nodded, and Elise added, “I already know. He is the one who attacked you. I won’t say anything about it because he released me. As long as he never bothers you again, I will keep silent on the matter. But, I’m warning you, if he tries to hurt you again, I will report it to the sheriff and Dr. Frey.”

  “Tank, Elise.”

  “You’re welcome. As soon as Dr. Frey gives his permission for you to be mobile again, we’ll get married in a small service, right here in this house. We’ll start our life where our love bloomed.”

  “But Stina and Karin?” he asked in concern. “Vat vill become of dem?”

  Pouting in the extreme, Elise teased him. “You’ve become a different man since your accident, Moya. You’re not nearly as cheerful.”

  Apparently, he didn’t understand that she was taunting him, because he answered in a serious tone. “Does dat bodder you? If it does, you should know dat I can’t help it. The laudanum does funny tings to my mind. I sleep a lot, too.”

  “You need that sleep to
recover. Besides, I was just teasing you. You’ll get back to yourself someday. I have no doubt. Now, as to Stina and Karin, they can find their own man. The one lying in my bed is taken.”

  THE END

  Bridget and the Company Man

  A Mail Order Bride Western

  Book 2

  (Can be read as a standalone book)

  By: D.D. Boone

  Bridget and the Company Man

  Prologue

  Bridget O’Riley was happier than she could have believed possible. Herb Clement had just told her that his cousin and her fiancé, Matthew Clement, wanted to show her the home he wanted to purchase for them to live in after their marriage.

  Ever since she had chosen Matthew over Herb, Herb had shown her little attention, but Bridget assumed that was because she had hurt his feelings. She believed that he would come around and talk to her again. Apparently, that was the night he had changed his mind.

  As he took her to the house in his family’s carriage, he chatted with her, explaining that Matthew wanted her to look over the building before he talked to her about it. He wanted to know her honest opinion of the place before they discussed buying it.

  “He’ll be waiting for you upstairs in one of the bedrooms,” Herb told her as he pulled the horse to a stop in front of a two-story, narrow, red brick building. “I hope you like it. I’ll wait here to take you home.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Herb got out of the carriage and helped her from it. Bridget was confused. Why would Matthew want her to tour the house alone? She would still give him her honest opinion. And why would Herb wait for her? Why wouldn’t Matthew take her home? This was all very mysterious.

  “Just walk on in, Bridget,” Herb said. “Matt said he would leave the door unlocked.”

  “All right.”

  Bridget mounted the brick steps and opened the door. To her surprise, the building was furnished. Did that mean that Matthew had already purchased it? Was this a wedding present to her? After a night in a hotel on their wedding day, they’d planned to live with her parents, although Matthew hadn’t been very happy about that. Maybe that’s why he was looking for a home of their own.