by Em Petrova
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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Cowgirl Heart
The Dalton Boys
Book 12
Copyright Em Petrova 2020
Ebook Edition
Electronic book publication 2020
All rights reserved. Any violation of this will be prosecuted by the law.
It’s not easy to impress a Dalton girl…
It’s not easy being a Dalton, let alone the last unmarried one of the Texas bunch. Keziah, or Kizzy, is drained by all the family weddings, and her sisters keep trying to rope and tie her to any old cowboy in the county. To ensure this doesn’t happen, she takes off for the big city and a job as assistant to none other than the smart, savvy and sexy KC Cohen, the mortgage company billionaire who sees her as something more than a cowgirl.
Knox Channing Cohen has achieved his goal—to build his own billion-dollar business from the ground up and without the help of his wealthy family. He’s also managed to break free of his cowboy origins and strike out on his own, far away from the prestigious ranch he grew up on. But when he receives word of his father’s death, he’s back in the saddle… the last place he wants to be.
Kizzy is dragged along as Knox’s assistant to help him deal with the family business. When she learns he’s not only loaded but a damn cowboy too, she can’t be more blindsided. Now she can see all the carved muscle on the man might not be from hitting the gym so much as hard work. Knox wants to sell out the ranch, but seeing the dark-haired, blue-eyed beauty at home around horses has him second-guessing his beliefs about the country… and her wondering if she’s really a cowgirl at heart.
Cowgirl Heart
by
Em Petrova
Prologue
Kezziah’s family hadn’t killed her. Her sisters might have threatened to lock her in the storm cellar indefinitely, but they’d never go through with it. The Daltons were ranchers—not kidnappers and criminals.
The rest of her family had taken the news with the same amount of enthusiasm as her two sisters. Her daddy had teared up. Momma had outright bawled. And her brothers had given her that classic Dalton frown, dark brows drawn downward and disapproving expressions on the trio.
And that was only her immediate family—all her cousins and her aunt and uncle had also been silent at her announcement that she was leaving the country, Paradise Valley and her family homestead, to take a job as a personal assistant for a bigwig billionaire in Houston.
But there’s so much traffic in Houston, her brother had said.
And murderers, her cousin had added.
Her sisters had flat out refused to speak to her ever since their special girls’ night at the local country bar, when Kezziah had broken the news to them she was leaving.
Since then, they’d come up with every play in the family handbook and a few extras. They’d planned double-dates for her and tried to rope her into helping with the latest family wedding planning, to which Kezziah had flat-out put her foot down about, rather hard too.
They’d all be fine without her here in Paradise Valley day in and day out. The past four years, she’d attended the local community college without them kicking up much fuss, and this wouldn’t be any different. She could still come home for special occasions and holidays, but she’d never held back about her desire to leave the country and find something for herself.
Her sisters Gracie and Jessamine stood close together, heads bent as they probably whispered about how much trouble she’d get into without her big fat cowboy family there to throw a punch for her.
Kizzy hooked the strap of her bag over her shoulder and walked up to the open trunk of her car. She dropped the bag inside with the other luggage and boxes and looked to her sisters. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re our little sister,” Gracie muttered.
“And you’re my big sister. You don’t live right here with everybody else and neither does Jessamine.”
“Yes, but you’re so much farther. What if your car breaks down?” Jessamine asked.
She slanted a look at their brother Justus, standing a few feet away, looking like a thundercloud had fallen on his head. Brows lowered, he once again wore that classic Dalton expression of disapproval.
She caught his gaze. “Then I’ll call a tow truck,” she said with a chipper note in her voice.
Justus unfolded his arms and stepped up to her. When he held out his arms for her to enter, she stepped into his embrace with a happy sigh. “One brother down, two to go.”
He grunted. “It’s Gracie and Jess who won’t ever approve of you leaving. But they’re only being selfish, while we’re just looking out for your safety.”
“Houston isn’t another country or the moon.” She squeezed her brother and released a carefree laugh. “I’ll be traveling between my apartment and work mostly, at least till I meet people.”
“Just be careful, Kizzy. Love you.” He planted a kiss on her forehead and let her go.
It was time to say her goodbyes to the rest of her family. First was Ford and then Easton. They gave her gruff words of wisdom about not being a trusting, naïve country girl. Then her mother gave her a sniffly but dry kiss and made her promise to call the moment she arrived at her apartment. Finally, her dad hugged her longer than the rest of them, and for the first time, Kizzy teared up.
She beat back the droplets, forcing them to defy gravity so her sisters didn’t see them fall and think she was having misgivings.
“Don’t get so big that you forget about your roots, Kizzy girl.” Her father’s words almost brought another tear from the corner of her eye.
She shook her head. “Never. I’m just the personal assistant to a billionaire—I won’t actually become the billionaire.” She laughed with her daddy and stepped from his arms.
Her two sisters looked as if their puppy had just run away or Santa forgot to come.
“Oh you guys are acting like a wet weekend. Don’t you realize how great this will be with me living in the city? You can come and stay with me. We’ll go clubbing and shopping and to concerts. Now stop looking at me like I just backed over your ponies and hug me goodbye!”
Jessamine rushed forward first, hugging her tight. Kizzy rocked them slightly from boot to boot, then kissed her cheek and grinned at her. Next was Gracie. She expected her oldest sister to put up the most fight, but in the end, she surprised her by hugging her warmly and asking if she needed anything else fetched from the house.
With the goodbyes out of the way, Kizzy was left to look around. This really did feel like a monumental step in her life. Adulthood had come years ago, but she was flying the coop, hitting the dusty trail and blazing her own path in one big cliché swoop.
Now that she stood at the cliff’s ledge, she didn’t know if she was prepared to catch herself if she fell.
No choice—she wasn’t looking back. Besides, KC Cohen, the business mogul she was going to work for, expected her bright and early Monday morning.
As she looked at her family standing around waiting to wave till she was out of sight, she felt a hard lump of nostalgia form in her throat. Born and bred country but longing for more, she really was a cliché, as was the personal assistant job in the big city, leaving behind the people she loved…
“It’s
only for a little while,” she said. “Soon it will be time for another Dalton family wedding or baby shower and I’ll be back in your midst.” She pointed a finger at her momma. “And I’ll be expecting my favorite chicken and biscuits.”
Her momma sniffed and raised a hand to wipe at an invisible tear. “And chocolate pie too, sweetie. Don’t forget to call when you get to your new apartment. I love you!”
After another hug all around, Kizzy climbed into her car. As expected, her family stood waving till she rounded the bend out of sight.
Only then did she issue a shaky sigh and consider falling apart.
No, she would not fall apart. She’d made this decision long ago. Back at the age of fourteen, she’d declared she was going to New York City to become a Radio City Music Hall Rockette. But soon the dream had died with the pains she got from practicing those high kicks, and then she was making plans to become trained as a spy for the CIA and live in Washington DC. Only a few months passed before she was on to yet another idea for her future.
When she decided on a degree in business with a minor in marketing, she had her sights still set on a city skyline and not the fields and pastures of Paradise Valley, Texas.
So her humble choice was to live in one of the state’s largest cities, and she felt it a good compromise that would keep her family off her back while fulfilling her own dreams.
She glanced in the rearview mirror at the land she knew so well. It might have been the rest of the Daltons’ dreams to live out their days here till they turned up their toes and had daisies planted atop them. But she had other things in mind besides marrying any old cowboy. Maybe because it had become quite clear to her that few men could match up to her male relations.
Her throat grew a little tight, and she reached for the ice water her sister had put into her car for the drive. Did she have everything she needed? The apartment she’d rented was already furnished, a sublet from a couple who had suddenly moved for a job promotion and left Houston. Kizzy was gaining freedom and a modern little two-bedroom. The smaller of the rooms she planned to make into her home office, in the event KC Cohen needed her to work after hours.
The self-made CEO of the mortgage company surely had piles and piles of work, and she was prepared to do it all, even the lowliest job of fetching him coffee or his dry cleaning if it meant she was able to work her way up, maybe into the marketing department or some other branch of the business where her schooling could be put to good use.
She definitely had all the things she needed packed in the trunk. A shopping spree had given her a week’s worth of business attire, and she could always buy more if she got into a rut.
While packing, she had set her beloved cowgirl boots aside, having no use for them. But when it came down to it, she’d shoved the boots into her suitcase. They were as much a part of her as her family ties, and she had no intention of dumping those either. She just didn’t need to be with her family all the time or want the life they wanted.
Still, that long gray sliver of road behind her broke through that lump in her throat, and she swallowed it as tears leaked down her face.
They’re happy tears, she told herself, and it was true. But they were sad too, because Paradise Valley felt like a different time in her life. It was on to new adventures.
Chapter One
Knox grasped the very hot and bothered, very disheveled woman in his office by the shoulders. The employee of his rival in the mortgage world, she’d come here on her lunch break.
Maybe she really had only meant to pay him a short visit and say hello. But after the night they’d spent in each other’s company—and the night before that too—things had hit another level and gotten out of hand, right here in his office.
In all honesty, seeing her today had given him a wake-up call, and after a mad, lust-fueled make-out session, he’d come to his senses.
Sort of.
Looking at her now, hair mussed and the buttons of her silk blouse askew, he wondered if maybe the two of them might actually work as a couple. Even if she wasn’t the daughter of the owner of Francis Mortgages, his rival, she had enough of her own skills to be of use in his life.
Which had led to the realization that he didn’t want a woman to be of use to him. That wasn’t how relationships worked.
“KC, honey, I want you so bad,” she whispered hotly, moving in for another kiss, which he blocked by holding her at arms’ length once more.
“Anna, this isn’t right between us, and we both know it. Nothing good can come from lust.”
“Well, lust leads to a lot of other things in time. Why don’t we try going out on a date and not having sex?”
He raked his gaze over her luscious curves, down to the stilettos she wore and back up slowly. His libido said yes—it always did, when it came to gorgeous women—but his brain managed to click on and say no.
“Sorry, Anna. I’m going to have to break things off. I’m just not in the right place for a relationship. I’m a workaholic. I sometimes even sleep here in my office.” He glanced at the expensive leather sofa along the wall of windows where he and this woman had been rolling around a few minutes before.
He shook himself and cut off what she was about to say next. “You’re far too lovely and sweet to get involved with a man like me. I wouldn’t want to spoil you for someone who truly deserves your attention.” He caught her fingers in his grasp and lifted her knuckles to his lips. Grazing them, he watched her face.
He might be an asshole for loving and leaving, but it was better to break things off now than to drag her through the corporate muck of falling for the wrong man, right? He was doing her a favor. In a few weeks, he planned to take over her father’s company and break it into bits, and if they were dating, things would be really tense.
He never should have gotten carried away with Anna, but next time he’d control himself.
Would he? He could count a handful of moments just like this over the course of the past three years he’d spent building Cohen Mortgages from the ground up. No family money had helped him and never would. He was his own man, not to be ordered around by a single soul.
Anna pouted but at least she wasn’t in tears. God, he hated tears.
He let her fingers drop after kissing the backs and then straightened away from her. “I’m sure we will see each other around from time to time, my dear, and I hope you can think fondly of our stolen moments together.”
He hoped his words held enough charm to get him out of this mess. Sometimes he could hear his father’s voice in the back of his mind, telling him what a shit he was. He didn’t need dear old dad to kick his ass—he was doing that all on his own.
He placed a hand on Anna’s spine and propelled her to the door. He opened it and guided her out. A few feet away, his personal assistant glanced up. Her blue eyes drank in the vision of Anna, looking half-ravished, half-despairing. And himself probably appearing more knotted up than he’d like to.
He withdrew his hand from Anna and straightened his tie.
Was that a gleam of amusement he spotted in his assistant’s eyes? Dammit, it was.
“You know the way to the elevator? Yes? Okay, then this is goodbye.” Knox ignored the twist of his assistant’s lips and made sure Anna left his office without turning back and making a scene.
God, he really had to stop mixing business with pleasure. What had begun as a few innocent drinks and chatting about interest rates had turned into steamy moments he didn’t really wish to recall.
A lack of judgment.
He wasn’t as dumb as he acted, and he was going to stop being the young, rich stud every girl wanted to sink her polished talons into. After a few years of it, he was exhausted by such a lifestyle. He was finished sitting at a bar for hours after a long day behind his desk, and not only because he wouldn’t find anyone his father would approve of. No, for his own sanity, he was putting on the brakes.
He’d been standing there mulling this all over for too long—his assistant Kez
ziah was staring at him. Kizzy, she’d told him to call her, and it was a strange name either way.
Smoothing a hand down his suit jacket, glad to find it still buttoned, he thought up something to ask her that might dispel the tension in the air, put there by his own stupid actions.
“I need copies of all the reports for the first quarter. Have them ready and at each place in the conference room. Oh and get some of those good sandwich platters too.”
“Already done,” she said.
He studied her. Seated behind the glass desk and in front of the glass wall of windows overlooking Houston, Kizzy appeared to be an angel floating in the clouds. Only she wasn’t the typical blonde cherub. Her very dark hair she wore in a new fashion nearly every day set off the light tan of her skin and her very blue eyes.
Strikingly blue. As strange as her name.
“You already took care of those things?” he asked.
“Yes, Mr. Cohen.”
“I’ve told you to call me KC. You’ve worked for me for what—four months?”
“Almost five, sir.”
“KC,” he emphasized again.
A smile tipped up her lips, giving her an even more striking appearance. In fact, every man in the building seemed to have noticed her too. KC had spent a very uncomfortable three minutes in the elevator with an exec from another floor, listening to what the man had to say about that “blue-eyed ornament” from Cohen Mortgages.
For some reason, KC’s stomach tensed at the memory.
“Yes, KC. I’ve got the conference room all set for you when you’re ready. The meeting is in seven minutes. Can I do anything for you before then?” She glanced him over, leaving him wondering if he’d forgotten to put on his trousers.
He hadn’t taken them off, though—not this time. Not ever again.
He was through with women showing up at his office for lunch breaks. From now on, he was focusing on growing his company from a billion dollars in profits to a trillion.