An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
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Fit to be Tied ISBN 9781419915055 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Fit to be Tied Copyright© 2008 Myla Jackson Edited by Briana St. James. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication March 2008 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
FIT TO BE TIED
Myla Jackson
Dedication
Dedicated to my sister, Delilah Devlin, and my very dear friend, Layla Chase, who constantly challenge me. I’ve become a better writer through their friendship and guidance. Thanks!
Chapter One Richard stared around the ballroom full of people he knew plus a few he didn’t. An overabundance of young women tightened the noose around his neck. Had every mamma west of the Brazos heard about the Rayburn will? A pretty yellow-haired young lady in a pale pink ball gown approached him, a fan fluttering in front of her face, a frightened-doe look in her pale green eyes. Younger than Cal’s little brother, the girl barely had breasts. Pushing her closer was her mother, Beatrice Caldwell, a stout woman in a black dress. “Richard, let me introduce you to my youngest daughter, Faye. She’s fifteen next month and has all her teeth.” Richard fought to keep from laughing out loud at the absurdity of the woman’s comment. “I’d consider it a fine recommendation if the girl were a horse.” If the woman made Faye open her mouth and show her teeth, Richard would leave. A man had his pride. “Excuse me, ladies.” As he scanned the room for an escape, walls and women closed in on him. The door to the garden stood open on the opposite end of the ballroom, allowing a gentle fall breeze to sift through the crowded interior. “Pardon me.” He nodded at Miss Caldwell and her mother and dove into the sea of marriage-hungry misses and mammas. When he surfaced on the other side, he risked a glance back at the disappointed faces. “Giving up already?” Stephen caught him before he made good his escape. Dressed in a black frock coat and a deep blue vest, Stephen appeared the city gent he claimed he wanted to be. Richard preferred his work clothes to the fancy frock coat he wore now. “This fancy frippery was a waste of money.” He tugged at the necktie and rolled his shoulders. Stephen grinned. “If it makes you feel any better, you look quite dashing.” “It doesn’t help and this damn tie is choking me.” Richard knew he shouldn’t have sent Stephen back east to school. He’d returned with all kinds of strange ideas of how Richard should dress and behave. What did the cattle care? “Look at all the lovely ladies you have to choose from.” Stephen waved a hand toward the crowded floor where women outnumbered men ten-to-one. Every one of them appeared like a vulture, ready to pounce on his carcass should he trip. “I need air.” “I still can’t believe Mathis talked Miss Violet into calling off your engagement the day before your wedding. Not very neighborly, if you ask me.” “He must have promised her a great deal of money.” Richard pinched the bridge of his nose, the pain of a headache pressing against the backs of his eye. Or had the pretty, yet insipid, Miss Violet found Richard too repulsive to contemplate marriage with him? “Just remember you only have until tomorrow to find a wife or Spring Valley will go to Victor Mathis.” Richard’s teeth ground together. “I’ll die before I lose Rayburn land to Mathis.” He stared at the women gathered like patrons at the butcher shop and him the side of beef hanging in the window. As much as he needed a wife, he couldn’t tolerate the blatant desperation burning a hole in his gut. Rayburns were never desperate when it came to women. “I need air,” he repeated. “Brother, I think I’ll stay in town after the party. Percy Yates offered to put me up. Have you secured lodging in town as well? You’ll be much closer to the preacher and the eligible women.” “I’m headed home tonight.” He’d deal with tomorrow tomorrow. “If you’re going all the way back to the ranch, beware of the Black Bandit. I hear he’s been attacking
travelers on the roads surrounding Mule Ear. He’s known to wear a broad-brimmed black hat and a black mask and he rides a black stallion.” “Bandits don’t scare me.” Richard stared around the room full of trussed-up females, thinking the bevy of women frightened him more than a gun-toting thief. “Just be careful,” his brother warned. “You don’t need to be his next victim.” “I can hold my own.” Richard preferred risking his life to a bandit than risking his sanity to a room full of scheming women, both young and old. He marched toward the French doors, anxious to leave the stifling perfumes and stares of the lovely ladies of Mule Ear. Stephen slapped him on the back. “You may prefer to run and hide, but I intend to enjoy the night. To think my big brother is afraid of a few women.” Stephen’s laughter followed him into the garden. Hands dug in his pockets, Richard paced the meandering paths skirting the renowned rose bushes of the Clancy estate. Thomas Clancy, the mayor of Mule Ear, Texas, had made his money the old-fashioned way—inherited it from rich relations in England. His wife fancied herself as a matchmaker, bringing together the young people of the county. Her latest project being him, Richard Rayburn, cowboy, ranch owner and recluse with a pressing problem. His grandfather’s will stipulated he must wed by his twenty-fifth birthday. If he failed to wed by that time, the six hundred acres his grandfather originally homesteaded would go to Richard’s neighbor, Victor Mathis. Richard’s grandfather, the stubborn old coot, knew that particular parcel of land had the only consistent source of water on all the Rayburn property. If he lost that tract, the next drought would wipe out his cattle herd. Until this morning, Richard thought he had the problem solved. He’d proposed last month to Violet Hempstead, who’d been after him to marry her for the past two years. She’d seemed thrilled, planning a huge wedding with all the fuss and trim befitting the spoiled only daughter of the county judge. Then this morning, the day before Richard’s twenty-fifth birthday and their nuptials, she’d informed him the wedding was off. No reason or warning. Mrs. Clancy, having heard of the debacle, called in all her favors and staged a ball inviting all the eligible women in a fifty-mile radius. Mothers scrambled to find gowns befitting an engagement ball and hauled their daughters to the Clancy mansion that very night, each hoping to secure land the prize bachelor. Richard appreciated Mrs. Clancy’s efforts, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of tying himself to another woman so soon after Violet’s betrayal. How could he trust a female after his fiancée’s unfortunate timing? Not that there had been any love lost between him and Violet. However, he trusted her word to follow through on the betrothal and actually marry him. Despite Violet’s terrible timing and the ultimate possibility of losing his land to his neighbor, Richard could feel nothing but relief that the wedding had not gone as planned. Marriage to Violet could be nothing more than boring at best. The woman talked non-stop about dresses and hats. She’d never have made a good rancher’s wife and what would he have done with a woman who was nothing more than an expensive ornament? Yes, he was better off without her. But that didn’t solve the problem of his land and the encroaching deadline outlined in his grandfather’s will. Engrossed in his own bad luck, Richard ducked beneath a rose arbor and ran headfirst into a lady coming out. She stumbled backward, the hedges breaking her fall. Richard reached out to steady her, grasping slim, white wrists as smooth and silky as a horse’s velvety nose. That she wore no gloves struck him as curious, considering the other women all wore fine white gloves,
as if they had something to hide. Not this young woman. Did she flaunt the society’s dictates where fashion was concerned? And were those callouses on her palms? What lady would allow callouses to form on her delicate hands and not cover them with the required white gloves? A lady of substance, perhaps? For the first time since he’d arrived, he could feel a spark of interest in the opposite gender. “Pardon me,” she said, dusting leaves from her gown. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” “No, it was my fault. If my attention had been on where I was going, I wouldn’t have missed you.” In the light from stars in the cloudless Texas sky, he drank in the beauty of the woman. Dark hair as sleek as the blackest ebony and eyes a very pale shade of…what? The lights from the windows of the mansion played tricks on him. “What color are they?” he demanded, the words popping out like a green cowhand nervously awaiting a woman’s favor. “Beg pardon?” She frowned up at him. “Your eyes—are they blue?” As soon as he asked the question, he regretted it. What kind of country clod would she think him? Oh hell. So much for good first impressions. Not that he cared. This whole party had been a bad idea from the start. When he should have dropped her hands and walked away, he couldn’t help rubbing his thumbs over the small callouses on the inside of her palm. When he realized what he was doing, he did release her, his face heating. “Why, yes indeed. My eyes are the very palest shade of blue.” She smiled up at him and looked down at her gown. “The same color as my dress, don’t you think?” A gentle smile curved her lips. “It was my mother’s gown.” “You mother must have been as lovely as you.” “Yes she was.” Her smile disappeared, the light fading from her eyes. As quickly as it had gone, her smile returned. “Now that we’ve bumped into each other, perhaps we should be introduced. I’m Julia Blackmon of Blackmon Estate, east of Mule Ear.” She held out her ungloved hand. He enclosed her fingers in his and reveled at how small and delicate they were, yet strong and capable. Even more curious for a lady. Despite how firm her fingers were, he bet he could squeeze once and break every bone. “Richard Rayburn. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” “Richard Rayburn? As in the Richard Rayburn, the most eligible bachelor in town?” Her smile broadened. “Aren’t you the man Mrs. Clancy threw the party for?” Richard dropped Julia’s hand and backed up a step, bracing for the woman to throw herself at him in an attempt to curry his favor and elicit an offer of marriage from him before the night was over. This one he could handle, but he couldn’t help a twinge of disappointment if she tried. She’d prove to be like all the others at tonight’s marriage market. “Yes, ma’am. Unfortunately, I am.” Her head tipped to the side and her smile widened. “Why unfortunate?” “Being jilted by your fiancée the night before your wedding is not considered unfortunate?” “A woman who would walk away from a wedding with you obviously doesn’t love you.” Her smile lit the darkened garden. “You should count yourself lucky she did you such a favor.” Richard found himself returning her smile and then frowning when he considered his dilemma. “Regrettably, I have until tomorrow to marry or my land is given away.” “You have so many choices to choose from tonight. A decision can be made quickly, thus securing your land.” She walked along beside him, the moon shining down on her smooth white shoulders. “I fail to see your problem.” “Sounds too mercenary to me.” He tugged on the coat his brother had insisted he wear. “This is not me.
I’m a rancher, not a gentleman. These women couldn’t handle life on the ranch.” “How do you know?” She stopped in the path and tipped her head to the side, exposing a long length of her lovely neck. She could turn any man’s head with her sultry beauty. Richard’s groin tightened when he realized he’d like to taste the smooth white skin at the base of her throat. Lusty thoughts ran rampant behind his attempt at gentlemanly behavior. Had he been so long without feminine company that he could become so completely aware of what a woman had to offer simply by walking in a garden with a perfect stranger? If his trousers were any indication, he had long passed aware and transitioned into full-fledged arousal. Damned greenhorn. What had she asked while he’d been enveloped in a haze of need? Ah, yes. “I see all these women dressed as you—beautiful ball gowns, delicate shoes and fancy hair. You all belong in the ballroom, not on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Like the rest of those women, you are used to being pampered and taken care of. I can’t promise that. The woman I marry has to be tough enough to hold her own on the range, in a kitchen and with a gun. Hell, we still have the occasional Indian roaming across the grasslands.” Her face sobered and she stared down at her clasped hands. “Not all women are hothouse flowers. Some just want a home of their own and the security and love of a husband, no matter how wealthy or poor. To love and be loved is their only dream.” “I don’t see how I can find such a woman with one night left to choose, much less one to love and love me.” Perhaps if he had a few days to get to know Miss Julia… “You are in quite the dilemma, sir. I wish you luck in your quest.” He reached out and captured her hand, not wanting her to leave. “What? Didn’t you come for the same reason as the others?” For the first time that night, he wanted a woman to throw herself at him. This woman. She stared up at him, her brows rising. “You mean to inspect the eligible bachelor?” Her gaze scanned him from tip to toe and she chuckled. “No, I prefer to make my own way in the world. Men can seldom be counted on to provide stability.” “That’s a cynical view for one so young.” His lips thinned as he thought about Violet’s betrayal. “The same can be said about women.” She laughed again, the sound warming the cold places inside him. “Then, sir, you must be counting on the wrong women. Pardon me. I must be going.” The woman with the black hair and pale blue eyes edged past him and hurried back into the ballroom, her hips swaying gently beneath the yards of pale blue fabric. After she’d disappeared into the throng of lovely ladies, it struck him as refreshing that she hadn’t offered herself to him as a prospective wife. For that alone, she’d caught his attention. And the soft sweep of her lily white shoulders, the curve of her neck, the ebony black hair cascading down her back… Richard could see her as a definite prospect. How he’d love to see the rest of her, test her flesh, taste of her honey to determine if she were the right flower for him. He moved toward the ballroom, not nearly so daunted by the task as he had been a moment before meeting Miss Julia Blackmon. Now to find her and determine if she really was the one he’d choose to marry tomorrow. ***** Julia left the party early, pleading a headache. She and her “Aunt” Fiona hurried home to the house on the edge of town where she’d make the change and be gone in less than fifteen minutes, if all went well. The revelers would be at it for another hour at least, giving Julia time to get in position on the road leading west out of town. Mrs. Clancy’s marriage ball for Richard Rayburn had all the makings of a rich night for the Black Bandit, or at least this woman’s version of the infamous thief. She would lean heavily on the real
Bandit’s fame to strike fear in the hearts of her victims. Hopefully, she’d get out of the situation with her life and a few jewels to sell for money to buy food. The young ladies were dressed in their finest gowns and jewels. The men carried their most expensive pocket watches and rode their best horseflesh. She’d make out nicely if she played her cards right. Struggling with buttons at the back of her dress, Julia waited impatiently for Fiona’s help. The older woman carefully laid aside the worn shawl that had belonged to Julia’s mother and the only ball gown she owned in suitable condition to be seen in public, although somewhat dated. “Are you sure about this? What if something happens and you’re hurt? How will I know and who can I trust to come looking for you?” Fiona was the only one she’d told of her plan that night and only because she needed help in and out of her dress. Otherwise, she’d have gone it alone and sealed her own fate, accomplice-free. “Don’t worry so much. If I’m caught, you must claim ignorance. Say you thought I was meeting my lover and you had no idea I was stealing.” She glanced at the woman, her heart going out to her. She’d been like a surrogate mother to her when her own sweet mother passed away from influenza. “I wouldn’t do this if I had any other choice. If I get caught, please don’t let them know you were involved in any way. If anyone is to go to jail, it should be me.” Fiona gasped. “Miss Julia! If your mother could hear you, she’d have a fit.” Julia’s lips thinned. “Well, she can’t hear me from her grave, nor can she help me. And if we plan to save what’s left of our home, we have to have money to do it.” “If only there were another way. Can’t you marry a wealthy man? Wouldn’t that be better than stealing from unsuspecting travelers?” The thought of Richard Rayburn came to mind and her body warmed. When was the last time she’d let a man take care of her? Her husband, over two years ago. And what had that gotten her? In the poor house. They’d had it all, a homestead, a fine house and all the food they could eat. Until Daniel squandered all of it away gambling. When they’d lost everything but the house, Daniel had the nerve to get bitten by a coral snake and die. Now all Julia had was the house with a lien on it she couldn’t afford to pay. “No thank you. I can take care of myself. Hopefully, I’ll get enough that we won’t have to do this again. Perhaps the sale of Daniel’s prized paintings will sustain us another year.” If the money ever came in. She’d begun to think the art dealer to whom she’d shipped them had absconded with what little they’d brought. She hadn’t shared her suspicions with her housekeeper. No use worrying the woman when there was nothing she could afford to do about the problem. Fiona laid the gown across the bed and held up a pair of black trousers. “The thought of you gallivanting around the countryside in men’s clothing must have your poor mother turning over in her grave.” “Better than starving or losing our home. Now hand me that vest and coat. I don’t have much time.” When she’d completed dressing, she tied her long black hair back with a strap of leather and shoved the length down the back of her shirt. She plunked the broad-brimmed black hat on her head and turned to Fiona. “Do I look like a man?” “Not in a million years, dear. You’re much too pretty.” “Then the dark and the mask will have to conceal the rest.” She stole out of the room and down the back steps, headed toward the grassy glen where she’d tethered the black stallion—the last of her husband’s prized racing horses. If she hurried, perhaps she could make more than one robbery tonight. A trickle of fear coursed through her body. When she located Demon, happily munching the grass in a circle around the tree he’d been tied to for the
past two hours, she untied him and slipped his bridle over his ears. The horse tossed his head and pawed the ground as if he knew they were going on an adventure. Julia wished she could be as excited as she swung up in the saddle. She’d never robbed anyone before. With very little encouragement, the horse leaped out of the bushes and onto the road, racing like the wind away from town. Two miles out, Julia reined in Demon in a wooded area along the road, hiding behind a large stand of rock and the pile of brush she’d worked to gather next to the road. After spreading the branches and rocks three feet deep over the road, she crouched in the shadows, her heart racing and her hands clenched around her father’s pistol, awaiting her first victim.
Chapter Two Richard dug his spurs into the horse’s flanks, driving him faster than was reasonable in the dark. He knew the road, and so did his horse. Frustration burned a hole in his gut. Despite Mrs. Clancy’s fine intentions, he left the party without choosing a bride. He’d searched the mansion for the illusive Miss Julia, but she’d disappeared as if she’d never been there. With one day left and no prospects, Richard had to face the possibility of Mathis taking the Spring Valley acreage. The road curved through a wooded area, overgrown with brush and low-hanging live oak. When Richard rounded a particularly sharp curve, his horse planted his feet into the earth so fast that Richard had not time to recover and flew over the horse’s head, landing in a pile of leafy branches blocking the road. Before he could extricate himself from the tangle of brush, the hard, cold metal of a pistol barrel pressed into his temple. Richard froze. “Give me all your valuables or die,” a gravelly voice spoke close to his ear. Was that rosewater he smelled? Surely not on a bandit. What manner of a man splashed rosewater on his skin before robbing another? His senses were playing tricks on him. Or maybe he was remembering the woman in the garden at the Clancy’s. What an odd time to remember her. When he attempted to turn toward the threatening voice, the pistol pushed more firmly against his skin. “Don’t turn around. My finger may slip on the trigger at any sudden movements. Do I get the valuables or do I find a new casing for my bullet?” “You’ll get the valuables,” Richard ground out. He reached into his fancy frock coat, removing a bag of coins, holding them high. A hand snatched the bag from his grip. “Your watch and ring too.” With slow movements, he removed his pocket watch and ring, regret burning against his chest. The watch belonged to his grandfather, the man who’d raised him since his tenth birthday. The ring belonged to his father, dead these past fifteen years. The ring and the land were the only things he had left of his father’s. His anger over his grandfather’s will didn’t compare to the rising tide of rage seeping into his heart over the humiliation of being robbed on his way home. Richard kept an outward appearance of calm, awaiting the opportunity to reap revenge on this thief. Once he’d been divested of his watch and ring, Richard attempted once again to turn. “Not so fast.” The cold steel pressed against his temple. “I’m going to back away slowly. If you so much as sneeze, I’ll shoot you so fast you won’t know what hit you. The sound of boots crunched against the hard packed dirt and loose gravel. A horse pawed the earth a few feet away. When he heard the squeak of saddle leather, Richard scooped a handful of dirt, rolled to the side and sprang toward the horse and the thief, tossing the dirt into the horse’s eyes. The sleek black stallion reared into the air, dumping its rider to the ground. The thief lay still in the shadows cast by the moon on the trees. Richard stood, brushed the dust from his good pants and strode toward the inert body. Had the fall killed the thief? The pistol lay to the side a yard from the black gloved hand. The man’s slight form led Richard to believe
him but a boy or a very small man, though difficult to tell with his face covered by a black mask and his hat tightly tied beneath his chin. So tightly it hadn’t flown off in the fall. “Let’s see who the Black Bandit is.” Richard bent over the still form and removed the hat. Glossy dark hair caught in the strap and pulled loose from a leather band. A great deal of ebony hair. More than fashionable for a man. More appropriate for a woman. As he lifted the edge of the black mask hiding the bandit’s face, his heart beat like thunder inside his chest and his hands shook. Beneath the black hat and mask lay the face of an angel. The angel he’d met in the garden at Mrs. Clancy’s matching-making ball. Miss Julia Blackmon. ***** Julia’s head ached and light from a candle edged beneath her eyelids like miniature daggers determined to pierce her sleep. She ran her tongue across her lips, her mouth as parched as a desert. Was it morning? If so, why was a candle lit? They could little afford to waste even one candle. When she tried to roll to her side to snuff the candle out, she couldn’t move her arms. Her eyes sprang fully open and she stared around an unfamiliar room. A quick glance at her naked arms confirmed they were secured to a white, ornate iron headboard with thick leather straps. Her naked arms. Julia gasped when she realized her shirt, vest and coat had been removed sometime between her attempt at robbery and waking in this strange place. Light cotton sheeting caressed her legs and belly. Dear God! She’d been completely stripped of her clothing. What manner of monster had done this? And what more did he plan to do? Had her first attempt at thievery backfired on her? Was she now the captive? Was her captor someone from the party? Did she know him? Questions flicked around in her mind, foremost and most disconcerting—had he raped her while she lay unconscious? Julia squeezed her legs together, feeling none the worse down there despite finding herself lying naked in a stranger’s bed with little recollection of how she got there. Fear threatened to clog her throat when she needed most to yell for help. She gathered her courage and opened her mouth to scream. “I see you’ve decided to join the living.” A deep, resonant tone filled the air in the room, sending a warm shiver over her naked flesh. Julia knew that voice. She’d heard it in the garden at the Clancy’s house earlier in the evening. A groan replacing the scream she’d intended, she turned her head toward the man, confirming her worst suspicions. She’d been captured by Richard Rayburn. “Why am I tied up?” “That’s what we do to thieves in these parts.” He nodded at her wrists. “Though usually we tie the knot around his neck.” Richard reached out a work-roughened hand and slid it along the long column of her neck. “But with such a pretty neck, I couldn’t bring myself to tie a rough rope around it.” The movement was more sensual than threatening and Julia shivered, her skin heating at the knowledge she was completely naked beneath the thin layer of cotton sheeting and he was a very virile cowboy hovering over her. “What are you going to do with me?” Where she’d aimed for strength in anger, her words came out in a breathy gasp as his fingers found their way to her collar bone, hovering above the swell of her breasts barely hidden by white cotton. “Let me go at once.” “Let you go? I think not.” He sat back in the chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him, a devilish smile curving his lips. “There are so many punishments to choose from,” he said, using the same
words she had at the ball. “I’ve known ranchers to shoot horse thieves.” She gasped, her life flitting before her eyes as the image of a gun pointed at her forehead filled her mind. “I wasn’t trying to steal your horse.” “Maybe so, maybe not. Then there’s the tantalizing thought that the sheriff would love to get his hands on the Black Bandit.” Richard’s brow rose as his gaze ran the length of her body, insufficiently covered by a thin white sheet. He rubbed his hand across the stubble on his chin. “Not that I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on her either.” A very unladylike snort escaped her nose. “Looks to me like you’ve already done that.” Heat climbed up her neck into her cheeks, her skin tingling with the thought of those rough fingers trailing over every inch of her body. “Yes, indeed, I have.” He lips stretched in a wicked grin. “But the sheriff hasn’t. With a catch like the Black Bandit, he’d likely become a local hero.” “I’m not the Black Bandit!” She jerked against her bonds, the action causing the sheet to slide further down her chest, dangerously close to exposing her— “By the way, did you or did you not undress me?” “I gave my cook the day off yesterday to go visit her sister and my brother stayed the night in town.” He stared into her face. “It’s just me and you. And might I say, you’re pretty well put together?” “Oh! You may not say that. What kind of gentleman are you? You had no right to take my clothing.” “You had no right to rob me. Consider it a tit for a tat. Like I told you at the Clancy’s, I’m no gentleman. I’m a rancher and I call it as I see it.” He leaned forward, tugging at the edge of the sheet until it crept lower. “And it seems as though I caught myself a thief tonight. Question is, what am I going to do with her?” He eased onto the bed beside her and lay facing her. “The possibilities are endless.” One broad finger traced a line from her chin down her neck to the top of the sheet. Shocked by the intimacy, Julia couldn’t speak, her breath caught in her lungs, refusing to push outward. All thoughts focused on that one finger poised above the swell of her breast. “I’d bet my last hound dog you’ve never had a man like me.” His warm breath feathered across her naked skin, sending shivers across her body and downward to that special place low in her belly. “I’m a widow, not a virgin. I’ve known a man’s touch.” Although none like she was experiencing with Richard. She forced herself to laugh without humor. “Rutting pigs that men are.” Nothing like a slap to a man’s pride to make him back down, she hoped. Richard’s brows rose and he leaned back. “Your husband? I take it he didn’t know how to please a woman.” “All he knew was how to please himself.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Julia clamped her lips tight. She’d never revealed to anyone her husband’s sexual deficiencies, thinking it had been all her fault he didn’t find her worthy of satisfying. Sadly, Daniel had only been interested in slaking his own thirst, never offering to see to his wife’s needs, claiming women weren’t supposed to enjoy fucking like men did. For a very long time, she’d believed him. Until Richard Rayburn touched her. His finger burned a path across first one peaked nipple and then the other. “I, on the other hand, had the best education a cowboy can hope to gain in the art of making love to a woman.” Julia sucked in a sharp breath as his finger slid the sheet below her breasts and circled the taut rosy nipple. To her dismay, it puckered into a tight bead. She closed her eyes against the rush of heat to her pussy. Warm liquid trickled from her, wetting the sheet beneath her bottom. She hoped he wouldn’t see the evidence of her arousal. When she should be protesting his advances, her body welcomed them. Keep calm and make him
stop. “Where did you receive such a fine education about lovemaking, in a brothel?” Rather than the expected shock, he pushed his chest out and nodded. “Absolutely. The whore there taught me this.” Richard leaned over her breast, licked the tip and then blew a warm stream of air over the moistened nipple. Unable to stop her reaction, Julia arched her back off the bed, pressing her breast to his mouth. When she realized what she’d done, she dropped to the feather mattress, heat flaming through her cheeks. “Leave me alone,” she whimpered. Afraid of what he might do next. No, afraid of how it would make her feel and how she’d react. “Now that I’ve seen what was hiding beneath the men’s clothing, I can’t resist pressing my advantage.” He opened his lips and took her breast full into his mouth, nipping at the hardened bead, teasing it with his tongue before sucking hard. An answering tug pulled at her pussy and her legs fell open beneath the crisp cotton sheet. How could she want this man when he held her tied to a bed? He could rape, torture and kill her if he wanted and no one would be the wiser. Somehow, she didn’t think that’s what he had in mind. The torture part, maybe. Her cunt creamed at the prospect. Already his mouth tortured her breast, she could imagine what his hands and other body parts could do if he continued on in this manner. “Do you like that?” he asked, his warm breath brushing across her breasts. Yes! “Most certainly not,” she lied, resisting the urge to turn so that he could reach her other breast and apply the same techniques. Oh she liked it. Entirely too much for her own good. Since when had she become a wanton woman? “Want to know what else she taught me?” He slid his cheek along the underside of the full swell of her breast, the hard stubble abrading her sensitive skin. A moan escaped her lips. “Please.” “Already asking for more?” “No. Please stop.” His touch would destroy her defenses and leave her exposed to whatever brand of agony he chose to use against her. He drew away, his thumb circling her nipple where his tongue had been. “I thought you were interested in what else Tessa taught me. Was I wrong in that assumption?” With her nipple trapped between his thumb and forefinger, she had few thoughts in her head at all. Sensation ruled her world in that white iron bed where she lay completely at his mercy. “Her name was Tessa?” Why she asked, she didn’t know, she really didn’t care about some whore he’d slept with. But his gaze held hers mesmerized. Her other nipple ached for his touch and her body quivered all over in anticipation of further discovery. Was she so wicked and desperate she’d forget he held her captive? Or was the fact he held her captive so wicked she wanted him all the more? When he didn’t make another move to tantalize and touch her, she squealed in frustration and stomped her foot against the bed. The movement only dragged the sheet further down her body, exposing the curve of her waist, cool air making her skin pebble with gooseflesh. “Let me go!” “I haven’t decided what to do with you yet. I’m still thinking.” He lifted the sheet and gazed the length of her, his eyes blazing. “You have all the makings of a fine ride. Perhaps I’ll have a little fun before I turn you over to the sheriff.” “You wouldn’t.” Her eyes widened at the depraved lift of his brows. “If you rape me, you’d be less
civilized than an animal.” His eyes narrowed. “And what you attempted tonight makes you better?” “I did what I had to do to survive,” she flung at him. “You do not.” “Perhaps I do.” His hand splayed across her belly, the warm roughness igniting fires so hot that surely she would burn to ash in seconds. “Who said I was going to rape you? I wager you’ll be begging me to make love to you before the night is through.” “No, I won’t.” Her words were little more than a gasp. As his hand slid lower, he leaned close and licked a path from the underside of her breast down the length of her torso. Julia whimpered. “You can’t do this.” “You stole from me at gunpoint.” His fingers tangled in the furry mound between her legs. “I demand payment.” “You got your valuables back. I owe you nothing.” She could have kicked him, but her body played traitor and opened to his exploration. “I didn’t tell you what else Tessa taught me.” “Don’t tell me. You have nothing I wish to hear.” Her words fell on deaf ears. “Don’t tell you?” He considered her request, brows raised. “Okay. I’ll show you.” He broke contact and left the bed. Instead of breathing a sigh of relief, Julia could have cried. Her body wanted, needed, demanded fulfillment only her captor and tormentor could provide. She clamped her legs together, afraid he’d see what his work had accomplished, see the dampness glistening on her cunt. Once again, she tugged at her bindings, frustration lending strength to her movement, slamming the headboard against the wall with a resounding thud. “Can’t wait, darling?” Richard unbuttoned his vest, shucking it from his shoulders to fall on the ground at his feet. The shirt came next, the buttons sliding free with a minimum amount of effort. Anger built inside her at his careless teasing. Did he not know what he did to her insides? Then again, perhaps he did and that made her even madder. “I can wait until hell freezes over. You’re not such a man that would have me panting like a dog.” “Too bad.” His hand stopped on the last button on the fly of his trousers. With his chest and torso bare and tanned, he stood like a god, ready to command his minions. How could one man be so beautiful and yet so stubborn. “Let me go, you oaf!” She pulled against her bindings, slamming her fists against the mattress in hopeless frustration. “I thought you were beginning to like my form of retribution.” He ran a hand across his chest and down to the line of his trousers. “I don’t even like you.” Her breath caught in her throat at the naked expanse of muscles barely out of her range. Would he drop the trousers? Would she find him even more magnificent there than he was everywhere else? The spit dried in her mouth and she licked her tongue across her lips. Drop the trousers. “No?” His hands rose to his hips. “Are you not even curious about what it would feel like for me to slide inside you?” “Not in the least,” she lied, her body coming alive to his words, liquid dripping from her cunt to dampen the sheet beneath her. Drop the trousers. “Your eyes tell a different story. I believe you really want to see what I have to offer before you make a
decision.” His fingers reached for the last button and he slid the black trousers from his hips to the floor. When he stepped out of them and straightened to his full height, his cock jutted straight out, hard, thick and huge. Julia’s heart hammered against her chest, drool forming at the sides of her mouth. She couldn’t form a coherent thought with his magnificent cock proudly pointed at her. “Satisfied?” A sexy smile tugged at the corners of his full, sensuous lips. “No.” She wouldn’t be satisfied until he rammed his cock inside her and rode her hard. How could she feel this way about a relative stranger when she’d never felt this strongly about her own husband? She must have been a whore in a former life. She must have loved being treated roughly, because that’s what she wanted now. “Perhaps you need more punishment before you’re ready for me.” He climbed over her, his knee parting her thighs all too easily. Fight him, you fool. Her mind told her to do all she could to get loose from the cowboy and run as fast as she could. With her hands tied snugly over her head, she was helpless to escape. Richard covered her body with his, the coarse hairs on his chest sliding over her breasts and belly as he descended inch-by-inch until his face hovered over the mound between her legs. “This is what Tessa taught me.” With the tips of his fingers, he parted her folds, stroking the sensitive nub lying between. “She told me the way to a woman’s desire is by coaxing her to orgasm and this tiny strand of flesh is the key.” Yes, oh yes. Her knees drew up, giving him more access to her clit, her mind lost in a fog of lust and desire so strong, she couldn’t think past what his fingers were doing to her. Daniel had never been this close to her. Never touched her there. One finger dared to dip inside her cunt, swirling around the moist interior, launching a maelstrom of sensations across body. He drew the wet digit upward to stroke her clit, lightly at first, flicking and teasing. Pressing his finger deeper into her cunt, he slipped in and out smoothly, lubricated by her juices. “Don’t,” she cried. Her belly tightened, her heels dug into the bed, lifting her ass off the feathered mattress. When his swirling finger stilled, she cried again, “Don’t stop!” His finger stroked and flicked, raising the tension in her to a screaming pitch. Just as she teetered on the edge of exploding, he stopped. “Tessa said it drove a woman mad to stroke her with your fingers, but even more so with your tongue.” She shivered from toe to chin, her body afire with anticipation. When his tongue touched the tip of her clit, Julia cried out loud, straining against the leather straps. Instead of pushing him away, she wanted to slide her hands through his wavy brown hair and pull him closer. His tongue toyed with her, flicking, stroking and teasing her until she thought she would fall apart in a million pieces. Then his lips closed over her and he sucked her into his mouth. One of his fingers pushed into her pussy and then another, then two more until all four fingers fit snugly inside. She wanted more. Her hips rose and lowered to the rhythm of his strokes. Balancing on a tightrope of tension so rigid that she thought she would surely fly off, she rode his fingers and tongue, reveling in the glory of the most incredible orgasm she’d ever experienced. As she tumbled back to the bed, another kind of ache built deep inside. She wanted him to fill her, to fuck her like tomorrow would never come. “No one has ever done that to me,” she admitted, her voice a whisper of awe. “And likely no one ever will again. I consider myself somewhat of an expert.”
“Huh. Likely every man Tessa fucked is an expert. What makes you so special?” He swiped his tongue across her clit. All the tension she’d felt a moment before flared back to life. “All right, all right. You’ve made your point.” The sensations didn’t subside, instead they built into an aching need only his thick cock could fill. “Fuck me, cowboy,” she whispered, feeling more like Tessa than Julia and savoring the freedom of it. Richard climbed up her body and hovered over her, his chest hairs rubbing against her nipples. “What did you say?” Too far gone to care how brazen she sounded, she said it again only louder this time. “Oh for Pete’s sake, fuck me, cowboy.” Then she leaned forward and bit into his bottom lip, dragging him down so that she could kiss him. His tongue pushed past her lips and skimmed across her teeth. When she opened her mouth, he dove in, dueling with her tongue in the same sensuous way he’d brought her pussy to life. She could taste her essence on his lips and the fire inside blazed to a molten fury. With his cock poised against the entrance to her pussy, he paused. “Are you sure you want this?” “Yes, damn it.” Was that her voice? The sexy growl deep in her throat? “Fuck me, cowboy.” “Tsk, tsk. Such a filthy mouth for a lady.” His kissed her hard and dug his tongue deep into her mouth. “A tasty, sweet, but filthy mouth. Say it again.” “Fuck me, cowboy.” She tugged against the restraints, wanting to grab his ass and pull him into her. When the bindings didn’t give, she reached her legs around his waist and tightened until he entered her in a long, easy slide through her slick channel. The deeper he went, the more she wanted of him. When he came to rest, his balls against her ass, she held him there, pressing her heels into his buttocks. His cock filled her so full that the walls of her pussy stretched deliciously. How could she love sex with a stranger—a man who held her captive? Who was the woman who’d sprung to life in Julia’s body? Surely not the sexually dissatisfying wife of a dead gambler. No, this was a woman alive with sensuality and needs she hadn’t even known existed. Until a cowboy held her captive and showed her the way.
Chapter Three Her warmth cocooned his cock, wrapping it in sleek, moist heat. His body moved in and out to the natural rhythm of mating. He’d wanted her since he first saw her in the garden, but never dreamed he’d be this far this fast. Having been thrown from his horse wasn’t nearly as unsettling as being thrown by this little bandit. She’d captured his lust, his imagination and threatened to capture even more. He told himself he only wanted to stay with her to make sure the injury from her fall was nothing serious. But the truth was that although she was his captive, he felt as if he was the one caught. Trapped in a web of desire so strong he couldn’t be pulled from its silken strands. Now that he was captured, he didn’t want the night to end. Didn’t want to let his little bandit go when morning came. He drove into her, slamming his cock as deep as it would go and pulled away. Each time, her legs tightened around him, bringing him back to fill her. She rose to meet his every thrust, leading him deeper until he tumbled over the edge in an explosive orgasm, his cock throbbing, aching, thrilling to the exquisite glove of her pussy clenched around him. When his arms threatened to buckle, he dropped to the mattress beside him. “You made me lose my head.” His finger trailed over her breast and he leaned over to press a kiss to its tip. He wanted to do this again and again, to wake in the middle of the night and take her, to lie beside her in the early morning hours, waking her with his need, making her scream out his name in passion. The night could not end until she promised to be there in the morning. Every morning. “Marry me tomorrow, Bandit.” A long silence followed his blurted proposal. For a moment, Richard second-guessed his rash offer. Was he thinking with his dick? He shook his head, remembering the woman in the garden and the instant attraction he’d felt for her, even before he’d witnessed the luscious body or tasted of the fruits she’d hidden beneath the pale blue gown at the Clancy’s ball. Deep inside, he knew without a doubt that Julia Blackmon was the woman for him. He held his breath, awaiting her response. “No,” she finally said, her voice a mere whisper. His hand pressed against her breast. Had he misread her response to his lovemaking? Did she not desire him as much as he did her? No. She could not have faked her passion, her abandon and sexy words. “Why won’t you marry me?” She cupped his face in her palm and graced him with a sad smile. “You don’t love me and I don’t know if I love you.” Pain sliced through his heart at her words. So he’d only known her a few short hours. What did he expect? Love at first sight? Undying devotion because a tumble in the bed? Anger dulled his senses. “Perhaps neither of one of us loves the other, but I need a bride and you’ll do.” That didn’t come out exactly as he’d intended, but it was out there nonetheless. She sputtered, a look of disbelief crossing her pretty face. “I’ll do?” She jerked her body away from his hand. “Let me go this instant and don’t ever touch me again!” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I’ll do? You arrogant bastard.” Disappointment and anger tempered his lust. What had he done so wrong that she’d turn away from him now? Didn’t she know what a catch he was? Did she not know how much land and money he had? Hadn’t every woman in the Clancy house wanted to marry him last night? Well, damn it, he wanted her and he’d by God have her. She’d come around in time. But for now, he didn’t have time to spare. “You’ll marry me tomorrow or…” “Or what?” “Or I’ll turn you over to the sheriff as the Black Bandit.”
She scooted across the bed as far away as she could get, given the bindings on her wrists. “I’m not the Black Bandit. I just dressed like him to scare you into giving me your valuables.” “And who will the sheriff believe? Me, the one who’d been knocked from his horse and robbed? Or you, the woman disguised as a man wearing a black mask? Marry me or I’ll turn you in.” She stared across the mattress, wishing she could pull the sheet up over her naked body. “You wouldn’t!” He crossed his arms over his muscular and equally naked chest. “Look, I need a bride tomorrow. Either you show up at the wedding ready to say ‘I do’ or I go to the sheriff with the truth.” ***** She’d fallen asleep still tied to the headboard. Some time in the wee hours, Richard had joined her, curving his body against hers, fitting her to him like she belonged. Too tired to protest, she let him. But naked skin against naked skin did nothing for sleep and everything for another exciting romp. She’d spent the remainder of the dark hours making love to a stranger. Some time before dawn, she’d fallen asleep and he’d untied her wrists. Instead of running like any self-righteous, pious woman, she’d curled against him, her hands rubbing over his chest as she dreamed of making love with a handsome cowboy. She awoke spooned against him, his cock nudging her bottom, hard and ready. Before she could remember that she was mad at him for proposing so carelessly, he’d turned her over and claimed her lips, stroking her skin first with his hands and then his tongue. One tantalizing inch at a time, he eased down her body, lapping at her skin, flicking and nipping a trail of desire down to her very core. He made love to her and the sun rose along with their passion. They came together as though they belonged. Which she knew they didn’t, but she conveniently chose to ignore. When his knees nudged her thighs apart, she more than willingly opened to him, taking him into her without a qualm. And why not? He was a man, she was a woman old enough to know her mind and a widow seasoned in the ways of men and women. Well, not so seasoned she couldn’t learn a thing or two from the well-versed cowboy. When he thrust into her, she met him halfway, her back arching off the mattress, her pussy cloaking him in a sheath of creamy, pulsing nerves. He drove deeper, taking her to the brink, shattering her into a million sparkling shards of exquisite sensations. But before Richard could release, Julia rolled him to his back and mounted him, riding him like a bucking bronco. When she came, her body rejoiced. She’d always wanted to be on top, had heard whispers of women who’d dared to be so brazen and it was all she’d hoped for, if not a bit more work. On top, she had the control, she could determine how deep and fast to take him. And he let her assume command, telling him just what she wanted. When she peaked and tumbled over the edge of orgasm, she fell against his chest, flushed, a sheen of perspiration making her skin glow in the early morning light. Richard laughed. “I take it you’ve never been on top before, either?” She pinched his nipple hard. “Ouch!” He grabbed her hand and held it away from his chest. “It’s not nice to gloat,” she pouted. “Ah but I was only pointing out a fact.” He kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to the side of his unshaven face. “You didn’t learn much with your husband.” “No, I did not.” And she wanted to learn so much more from Richard, but all too soon the time came for
her to leave. After she’d dressed in the clothes he’d loaned her from his mother’s chest, Julia realized she couldn’t ride the stallion home. Not in a dress and not in her bandit clothes in broad daylight. Forced to accept his offer to deliver her to her house in a shiny black buggy, she went along, pasting what she hoped was a mutinous expression on her face and hoping no one saw her as they drove into town in the early hours of the morning. Not that she cared too much. She did live on the edge of the small community with hardly a soul who cared about her comings and goings. Still, some old biddy was bound to see them and spread the word. With a population as small as Mule Ear’s, the gossip would flame quicker than a wildfire in July. They’d possibly demand that he marry her and then what? He’d get what he wanted. A wife to save his land, not to love, honor and cherish—things she’d sworn meant more than money or saving her house. Her blood boiled every time she thought of his proposal. How dare he threaten her? And how stupid she’d been to fall back into his arms after such a back-handed offer of marriage. Of course, she’d had no intention of accepting his “offer”. But the more she thought about the proposal, the madder she made herself. She refused to speak to him once they climbed into the buggy, dredging up as much indignation as she could, even though her pussy ached from all the lovemaking they’d done and she still wanted to do. Well, no more. Once he dropped her at her house, she’d be done with him. When they turned west instead of east, a niggle of doubt crept over her. Not that she remembered which way they’d come. He’d carried her unconscious to his house on the prairie from the trail where she’d attempted to rob him. She hoped he knew where he was going, because she sure as shootin’ didn’t. When the road all but disappeared, becoming nothing more than a trail, she knew they weren’t headed back to Mule Ear. “Is this the right direction?” She swiveled in her seat, turning back toward his family homestead. “Shouldn’t we be headed east?” “We will, soon enough.” He slapped the reins across the horses backs and clicked his tongue. The team leaped into a trot, throwing her against him. “I wanted to show you something first.” She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to hold onto him as they bounced over the rough terrain. “I want to go back to town, immediately.” She didn’t want him to show her anything but his backside as he left. The buggy bounced and she grabbed onto his thigh to keep from falling off. As soon as she got her balance back, she let go, her skin flushed. Beads of sweat accumulated across the back of her neck, having nothing to do with the warmth of the late summer day. Despite Richard’s ultimatum and threat to turn her over to the sheriff, Julia still wanted him. His knee and shoulder bumped against her over several rough spots, sending raging desire ripping through her body. Damn him! Didn’t she have enough troubles keeping the banker from claiming her house to pay for her husband’s debts? If she lost her house, where would she and Fiona go? The obvious choice was to go along with Richard’s disagreeable proposal. At least she’d have a roof over her head. But he’d been so callous, as if she were nothing better than a whore. Damn it, she wasn’t a tramp to be bought and paid for by a promise of land and a rich husband! Then again, she’d acted like a whore, giving in to his ever-so-convincing seduction. So she was a widow and, as a widow, she didn’t have to remain celibate like a virgin maiden. She had needs, just like men had needs. A hill towered above the prairie grasses, the base of which was surrounded by a copse of sturdy oak trees. “Is this what you wanted to show me?” Julia demanded. “Okay, it’s a bunch of trees and a hill. Now can we go?” Before I forget that I’m not a whore and ask you to take me here and now. “Not yet. Whoa!” He tugged on the reins, bringing the horses to a stop. “We walk the rest of the way.”
Leaping to the ground, he held out his hands to her. Julia scooted across the seat as far away from those open, tempting arms as she could get, her mind telling her to take the buggy and run, her body urging her to fall into his arms and take whatever he offered. “Walk? Oh no, I’m not going into the woods with you. I want to go home. Now.” “After you see this.” He reached up, his hands circling her waist, and dragged her to the edge of the seat. “I’m not go—” One final tug sent her over the edge and toppling into his arms. He held her against his chest, her feet dangling above the ground for a long moment. Long enough for her skin to tingle and all her nerves to ignite. Then he let her drop to the ground in a slow glide down the length of his body. The hard ridge of his cock pressed against the front of her dress, making her cream in remembrance of where it had been the night before. By the time her feet touched earth, her knees were too weak to hold her up and she leaned into his broad frame, forgetting all her promises to remain aloof. The man was the devil and she wanted nothing more than to burn in hell with him. He leaned forward and wrapped her in his arms, his lips claiming hers in a deep, sensuous kiss, robbing her of her breath and her senses. When he let her go, she swayed, the world a rosy haze around her. Before she could protest, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the trees. “I’ll take you home after you see this.” Dragging her feet, she followed, determined to dislike whatever he showed her, resolute in her decision to go home and forget about Richard Rayburn, who only loved his land and cattle. A man who could never love a woman nearly as much. Could never love her as she longed to be loved. After marrying a man because her father had chosen him for her, Julia refused to marry for anything less than love. Even lust couldn’t tempt her. Well, maybe a little. Okay, a lot. Following a narrow trail through the shadows of tall oak trees, the woods opened into a secluded glen at the center of which was a creek. The sound of rushing water echoed against a rocky bluff rising out of the trees where a gentle waterfall spilled out of the rock wall into a deep, crystal clear pool large enough to swim in. Julia drank in the enchanted glen’s beauty. “It’s lovely.” And it was more than how it looked. Cool air rose off the water, gentle sunlight made the water sparkle and the surrounding trees wrapped her in sense of warmth and well-being she’d never felt before. Richard stripped off his boots and rolled up his trousers. “Come on.” He dropped to his knee and lifted one of her feet, tugging her feet from the shoes he’d found for her to wear. Too big for her tiny feet, they peeled off without unlacing them all the way. Then he waded into the water, pulling her in behind him, his face hopeful in the speckled sunshine. “My mother and father fell in love here.” “Here?” she asked, hiking her skirts up to her knees to keep them from being drenched in the water. The cool liquid around her feet and ankles reminded her of when she was a little girl running barefoot through a stream with her father. The memory made her smile. “Is this the parcel of land you’ll lose if you don’t marry?” He stared up at the falls without glancing her way. “Yes.” Well, damn. One more nail in her coffin. If she didn’t run screaming now, she’d fall under the spell of the magical glen and the cowboy who’d brought here her. Or was it already too late?
Chapter Four Richard knew it was a long shot, bringing her here. Why should Julia care if this place was part of his family, part of his fondest memories? She’d already told him no, so why did he feel compelled to show her this special place? Had he hoped she’d be as captivated as he was and capitulate, agreeing to marry him even if she didn’t love him? The clock was ticking. If he didn’t marry today, he’d lose this land and all the memories associated with it to a rancher who barely knew the meaning of family and heritage. He certainly didn’t know how to farm or ranch, as evidenced by starving cattle and meager crops. Staring across at the ebony-haired bandit who’d stolen into his life, Richard came to a realization. He hadn’t brought her here to fall in love with the place, he’d brought her here to fall in love with him. Like his parents had fallen in love. They’d sworn that the magic of the hills, the water and the secluded glen wove a spell over them, making them fall in love when they’d both sworn they wouldn’t. After knowing Julia for less than a day, he’d come to realize she was serious about marrying for love. If she couldn’t have it, money be damned, land be damned. If she couldn’t have love, she’d rather remain a widow than ever marry again. Now all he had to do was convince her that they stood a chance of falling in love like his parents. “My parents married because their parents arranged it when they were children together back east. My grandparents migrated west, but remained in touch with her family in Pennsylvania. When she came of age, her parents made her come out west to marry my father. She was mad and didn’t want to, but they told her they’d disown her if they didn’t follow their wishes.” “That’s terrible.” Julia’s dark brows drew downward. “How horrible for your mother.” Richard smiled. “At first, yes. The life was difficult, but my father showed her the beauty in living out here. He brought her here and shared his vision of their future. It was here on this rock where they first made love. I was conceived here.” Julia closed her eyes, her body swaying to some imaginary tune. When she opened her eyes again, she walked across the ground, climbing up on the huge boulder. “They made love here?” She sat down on the boulder, her hand splayed out beside her. Hope sprang in Richard’s chest. Could she be comparing her life to his parents, maybe even adjusting to the idea of their union? Accepting it as inevitable? When Richard laid down beside her and reached out to capture her hand, he imagined they were his parents, a young couple forced together by circumstance. Destined to live their lives together whether or not they loved each other. Her hand squeezed his. “And they fell in love despite what your grandparents did to them?” “Yes.” Richard rolled to his side and trailed a finger along her jaw line. “Yes, they fell in love.” For a moment, Julia’s eyes misted, as if she were lost in a past that wasn’t hers. Then she stared up at him as if seeing him for the first time since they entered the glen. “I did what my father asked of me by marrying my first husband and trying to make a life for us. But there was no love, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t feel any more than obligation. It wasn’t right for me. I couldn’t live that way. I deserve someone I can love with all my heart. Doesn’t everyone?” “I’m not your dead husband, Julia. We’ll learn to love each other just like you said.” He’d only known her for several hours and he was hesitant to commit to more aloud. Deep in his heart, he knew he could love this woman, given half a chance.
Richard’s fingers edged toward her collarbone, releasing the buttons down the front of her dress, desire building inside him like a raging forest fire in a Santa Anna wind. He wanted to drown himself in her, run his fingers across her skin, make love until she couldn’t think. “No.” She sat up, brushing away Richard’s hand. “What’s wrong?” “I can’t.” She leaped to her feet and jumped off the rock, running barefoot down the path they’d walked in on. His heart leaped in his throat as she disappeared down the trail. “Julia!” Richard staggered to his feet and leaped from the rock, running as fast as he could, afraid she’d get away before he could stop her. He knew that if she left now, he’d never get her back. When she reached the buggy, she climbed up, grabbing the reins in her hands. Before she could slap them across the horses’ backs, Richard was there, his hands covering hers, prying them loose. “Give us a chance, Julia.” He pulled her from her perch and into his arms. “I can’t. If I marry you today, I’ll never know love.” Tears welled in her eyes and fell down her cheeks. “How do you know?” He cupped her cheek in his hand, pushing her hair from her face. With a gentleness he didn’t know he could possess, he brushed a kiss across her forehead. “How do you know if you don’t give us a chance?” “I won’t be pressured into marrying you or anyone else.” “No pressure.” His lips found hers and he pressed into her, one hand cupping her buttocks, urging her closer to his full erection. She fell into him, returning his kiss until she finally pushed against him. “I can’t love you. I don’t even know you.” “What’s to know?” He bent and scooped her up into his arms. “I’ll show you what you need to know.” This time she didn’t protest when he carried her back along the trail to the boulder by the pool. There he deposited her, laying her gently against the cool stone. Then he settled between her legs, inching her skirt up over her calves, nipping the smooth skin of the inside of her knee. “We could make love like this every morning.” His tongue flicked a path up her inner thigh. “Making love is not the same as being in love,” she said, her voice fading off into a breathy whisper. “No, but if it’s good enough, you’ll be in love with me before the first week is over.” “You’re an arrogant bastard, aren’t you?” She laughed, her breath catching as his fingers scraped against her pussy. “Ah there you have it wrong. My parents were good and married when I was born.” He delved in to touch his tongue to her pussy. “Arrogant, yes.” He thanked to the good lord that he’d been unable to provide Julia the usual underclothing and petticoats. She lay bare and ready for him with nothing standing in the way of his prize. Richard spread her thighs and thumbed her clit, dipping his finger into her moist cunt and drawing it out to spread a creamy coating over the tight entrance of her anus. “Remember,” he said, tonguing her nether lips and delving into her pussy, one stroke at a time. “I know what a woman wants.” “Ah yes, Tessa gave you lessons.” Julia’s hands tangled in his hair and pulled him closer. “What else did Tessa teach you?”
While his tongue hovered over her clit, his fingers poised outside her pussy and his thumb pressed against her anus. “Are you ready to learn?” Her body tensed. “Maybe. But no matter what you do, I won’t marry you today.” “I can live with that,” he lied. “Can you live with this?” He tongued her clit, stroking it, laving it and finally sucking it full into his mouth. At the same time, he shoved his fingers into her cunt all the way up to his knuckles. When she arched her back, pushing closer, he slid his thumb into her anus, angling upward to where his fingers filled her channel. “Oh Richard, by all that’s holy!” She cried out, her hands pulling against his ears until he thought she might pull them off. He eased off the suction, his tongue taking over in a full licking motion, swirling the swollen nubbin around in his mouth, loving that her reaction was as uninhibited and full of joy as a wanton woman in love. The sound of her screaming out his name served as an aphrodisiac so powerful, his cock hardened into a steely pike. He wanted to make her scream out his name over and over again. Her body rose, jerking against his fist, drenching his hand in a fresh wave of sweet juices. Her scent filled the air, making his blood run thick and hot. He ached to be a part of her, to feel her tense around his cock. Pulling his fingers free, he climbed up her body and mounted her like a stallion, ready to rut. “Ride me, cowboy. Fuck me like the whore I am.” She slung her legs around, locking her heels behind his back. He rode her hard, pumping in and out of her like there was no tomorrow, no ranch and no will to make him crazy. If he had his way, he’d go on making love to her until she came to reason and agreed to marry him, ranch or no ranch. Sensations filled him, making his body taut as a bullwhip ready to snap. As he rose to the ragged edge and shot over the top, he held her hips and slammed into her, skin slapping against skin until he came to a shuddering stop, his seed spilling inside her. Completely drained and feeling as wobbly as a newborn calf, he collapsed by her side, gathering her in his arms, holding onto her even when he knew he couldn’t hold her forever. More than anything, he wanted her forever. How could he convince her? His arms tightened around her. “Marry me, my little Bandit.” “No.” Fear and desperation struck him cold. He could care less about the ranch. If he lost this enchanted glen with its magical pool and waterfall, so what. He knew in his heart that he had to have Julia. “Marry me, dammit! Marry me today or I swear I’ll go to the sheriff and tell him everything.” ***** When Richard pulled the horses to a halt in front of her house, he sat for a long moment, fighting against a sudden desire to tie this woman up to his bedpost and keep her there forever. Had it only been last night when she’d stolen his valuables? Had she stolen something more valuable than his grandfather’s pocket watch? Could the little thief be well on her way to stealing his heart? “This is where you live?” He forced himself to study the old house with the peeling paint and unkempt yard. Clearly, the place needed work. “Yes.” She gathered her borrowed skirts and attempted to climb from the buggy before he could come
around. Richard leaped to the ground and assisted her. “How long has your husband been dead?” “Two years, two months and seven days,” she said through tight lips. His brows narrowed and he held on to her arm longer than necessary to steady her. “And you’ve lived here alone all that time?” Julia pulled her elbow from his grasp. “Of course not. My housekeeper lives with me. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He couldn’t let her go. Not like this. And why did he feel so desperate? More than a dozen women wanted to marry him today. Why did he have to choose one who didn’t want him? Anger at her stubborn pigheadedness and his own rising desire made him want to lash out. Richard grabbed her hand and forced her to face him. “One-o’clock in the Mule Ear Chapel. I’ll expect you there.” The word please teetered on the tip of his tongue, but he refused to say it. He couldn’t let her know how much he wanted her to be there. What kind of cowboy begged a girl to marry him? Not this one. Her glance went from his hand on her arm to his face, an eyebrow rising above one pale blue eye. “Expect all you want. I will not be forced to marry.” This wasn’t how he’d imagined a proposal. But then he was just a cowboy used to dealing with cattle, not women. Especially not a woman as beautiful and captivating as the Widow Blackmon. She wanted love. Why didn’t he just tell her he loved her and be done with it? Because more than words, she wanted true love, an honest expression, not so many platitudes spoken to secure a piece of property. How could he tell her he loved her when he wasn’t sure what love was? He’d never been in love before. Rather than lie to the woman, he took the only path he could come up with. “If you don’t appear on time, I’ll come with the sheriff.” Those full, luscious lips that had kissed him with such unabashed abandon the night before thinned into a straight line. “And what makes you think I’ll be here?” He jerked his head toward the house. “You wouldn’t have turned to a life as a highwayman if you had money.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “How do you know? I might have done it for the fun of it.” “But you didn’t.” He forced his voice to be hard when he knew his words could hurt. “Be there at one o’clock.” Julia crossed he arms over her chest. “I won’t be there.” “Then the sheriff will be here, dragging you off to jail.” “I won’t be here.” “You’re broke. Where else will you go?” He knew it was a low blow, but he had to call her bluff if he wanted to get her to marry her. Rather than anger igniting into a full-fledged inferno, the starch went out of her stance, her indignation seeming to leech into the ground at her feet. Julia had no money and no relatives to move in with. She was trapped without a skill or trade to fall back on and she’d been a sad lot as a thief. With a sigh, she turned away. “Just go.” He captured her hand, refusing to let her leave. Then he pulled her forward and slipped his fingers into her hair, tugging her head back. His lips descended on hers, recapturing the magic of their lovemaking last night and earlier that morning in the glen. When he broke away, he knew he’d done all he could to convince her. If she came to the church, he’d be
there. If she didn’t, so be it.
Chapter Five When Julia came to her senses, Richard had already climbed aboard the buggy and spun it back in the direction he’d come. She’d forgotten to be mad, forgotten to fight back, forgotten everything for a moment in that single kiss. Her hand raised and she almost cried out for him to wait. But what would she say? Any way she turned, she bumped into her idiotic convictions. On the one hand, sex with Richard had been unbelievable. To have that on a daily basis… Her fist clamped. Sex on a daily basis would be a waste of time. When would she get her chores done? Who cared? The fist loosened and her hand slid over her belly where the ache had resurfaced with his kiss. She couldn’t remember feeling this alive after making love with Daniel. All she’d thought about back then was getting through it and moving on to the next day’s work. But with Richard…she wanted to find out more about what Tessa the whore had taught him. Imagine all the positions and techniques she’d learn and all the fun of inventing and discovering more. Surely out of a sex-filled marriage, love could follow. Couldn’t it? “Ms. Julia!” Fiona’s voice broke through Julia’s lusty thoughts. The older woman raced down the front steps and wrapped her in her arms, tears falling from her wrinkled eyes. “When you didn’t come back…I thought…I thought you were dead.” “As you can see, I’m not.” She patted the woman’s back until her sobs ceased only to be replaced by hiccups. After several minutes, she pushed the woman to arms length. “Are you okay?” “Where were you all night and half the morning?” Fiona dabbed at her cheeks with a frayed white handkerchief. “I was just about to go to the sheriff to ask him to find you.” “A good thing you didn’t.” Julia’s gaze followed the disappearing buggy. “Let’s just say my plan backfired.” So much had happened in the space of one night, almost as if she’d led another life. One she wanted badly to return to. Fiona’s eyes widened and she pushed Julia to arm’s length, studying her from head to toe. “Where did you get the dress? Where are your other clothes?” Her hand clapped over her mouth. “Are you hurt?” She turned her, inspecting her backside. Julia shook her hands off and strode toward the house. “I’m fine, besides a bump on the back of my head.” Which had begun to throb. She pushed through the front door, reluctant to answer the barrage of questions to come. Fiona dogged her heels. “What happened?” “Nothing. Everything.” She came to a stop in the parlor, staring around at the few remaining pieces of furniture that were either in too poor condition to sell, or her mother had given her and they held too many memories to part with. The beautiful ebony piano her mother had played until the day she’d died stood by the window, worn sheet music leaning against the stand. The piano represented the last item of value she could sell to put food on the table and keep the banker at bay. Julia sank onto the stool and ran her fingers over the keys, the sound as pure and lovely as always, a reminder of her sweet mother. She couldn’t sell it and even if she did, the sale wouldn’t keep Richard from turning her over to the sheriff. “I can’t do it.” “Do what?” Fiona wrung her hands. “What happened, tell me.” With a long, drawn-out sigh, she slumped against the piano her forehead pressing into the cool, ivory
keys. “It was all going so well until I was captured by a cowboy.” “Oh my.” Fiona pressed a fist to her lips. “Did he turn you over to the sheriff? They hang horse thieves, you know.” “I didn’t steal his horse, only a bit of money, jewelry and a pocket watch.” None of which she had to show for her effort. “When he captured me, he retrieved his belongings.” The older woman paced the worn carpet, tearing at the handkerchief in her hands. “However did you manage to escape? And where did you find that dress?” “He let me go and loaned me the dress.” She stared down at the bright floral pattern on the fabric. Richard’s mother must have been a nice woman. Why then had she given birth to an ogre? Although the ogre could have taken her straight to the sheriff instead of his home. And what would become of Fiona and her mother’s piano if she’d been sentenced to spend years in jail for her crime? No doubt Fiona would have to find work at her advanced age and the piano would be sold off. Not to mention Julia would be shamed and labeled a thief. And what would happen to her when she completed her sentence in jail? Or would they have hanged her? Richard had given her the option of jail or marriage to him? Why in God’s name did she resist such an obvious decision? A home with a man to provide for her and her housekeeper…or jail. Really, her choice had been made for her. She had to marry Richard. She had no other alternatives. Robbing innocent people no longer seemed like a good idea. Not to mention she wasn’t very good at it. “I’m surprised he let you go without consequences for your attempt to rob him.” “I didn’t say there were no consequences.” Julia lifted her head and stared across at her housekeeper. “But he let you go. He didn’t involve the sheriff. What do you mean?” “He gave me an ultimatum.” She rose from the stool and strode to the French doors badly in need of paint. “He insisted I marry him or he’d turn me over to the sheriff as the Black Bandit.” “Marry him? Oh my dear Julia. Whatever are you to do? What will be come of us? “ She paused in her exclamations and tipped her head to the side, her gaze calculating. “Is he impossibly ugly? Does he have any wealth to his name? Who is this man who’d demand marriage?” “I give you one guess.” Her housekeeper’s eyes widened and she gasped. “Surely you do not mean—” Julia nodded. “Richard Rayburn. And the wedding, if I choose to accept his not-so-kind offer, is today at one o’clock in the afternoon at the Mule Ear Chapel.” “Julia, Richard Rayburn is a very wealthy man. He owns more than six thousand acres and a significant number of cattle. He could be the solution to all our—your—problems. You most certainly should marry the man.” “Oh please.” Julia planted her hands on her hips, prepared to fight a battle she’d already lost. “He’s an oaf, a coarse cowboy, and he wouldn’t know how to treat a woman any differently than a heifer.” She cringed at her own lie. Richard had known exactly how to make her body hum. In fact, it still hummed to the memory of his tongue and fingers, stroking her in all the right places. “But he has all that land.” Fiona spread her arms wide. “He has a nice house, from what I hear. We would never lack for anything.” He definitely had more than land, cattle and money to offer some lucky woman. He could give a woman everything, except love. “I married Daniel because my father, God rest his soul, said I should. What did that get me? A gambler without a care for anything but the next game to bet on.”
“Julia, we can’t go on like we are and you can’t steal to keep food on our table. It’s just not right.” The older woman squared her shoulders and pushed back her sleeves. I suppose I could take in laundry for the Clancy’s. That would help with food, but not with the sheriff or the banker.” The starch drained from her stance. “Oh dear, you are in a bad situation, but stealing is not the answer.” “And being forced to marry is?” She stared at her housekeeper, the woman who’d been with her since she was a little girl. The old woman who would take on additional work to help keep what was left of their tiny family together. Dear, dear Fiona. “The way I see it, we’re out of choices, Julia.” Fiona sighed. “But you have to do what’s right in your heart. It is your life, after all.” The old woman’s shoulders sagged and she turned to leave the room, looking her age and more. “Wait, Fiona.” Fiona turned, the wrinkles on her face seeming deeper than a moment before. She really was getting old. She wouldn’t make it through another winter in this drafty old house with no money to buy food and no one but Julia to chop wood for the fireplace. Julia went to the old woman and wrapped her in her arms. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll think of something. In the meantime, could you iron my mother’s wedding dress? Just in case I can’t think fast enough.” She smiled down at the frail old woman. “And don’t worry, I won’t do anything else that goes against the law. I’m not cut out to be an outlaw.” A frown creased the woman’s brow. “I didn’t want you to risk your life to take care of me and I wouldn’t want you to go into a marriage with a man who’ll hurt you. He didn’t hurt you last night, did he?” Her fingers gripped Julia’s arms with surprising strength. “No, Fiona, he didn’t hurt me.” Her pussy was sore and sensitive, but that was a different kind of hurt and a constant reminder of how much she’d forgotten herself in the cowboy’s arms. The ache built quickly into a longing to repeat last night’s lovemaking and recapture the incredible explosion of her senses. Her heartbeat quickened and she pulled away from Fiona before the old woman could see the lust in her eyes. ***** “So, brother, how did you fare last night at the Clancy’s ball. Did you give up on finding a willing bride? Or did one of the lovelies spark your interest?” Stephen strode into the kitchen later that morning, bright and cheerful and ready to poke fun at his brother. Richard was not in the mood. He’d laid down the ultimatum with Julia and then let her go. Already he regretted his decision. Not his decision to marry her, but the one where he let her go. He should have held her captive until the actual wedding. Then she’d have no way of escaping him. The more he thought about marrying Julia, the more right it felt and the more anxious he became. “Are you still asleep, brother?” Stephen waved a hand in front of Richard’s face. “What?” Richard snapped, turning his attention from the view out the kitchen window to his brother. Stephen’s face fell. “I take it you have not found a bride. Such a shame to see Spring Valley go to Mathis. The man is an incompetent rancher and a buffoon.” Richard scrubbed a hand over his tired face, remembering he’d gotten very little sleep the night before. His memories of what had transpired in his bedroom brought a fleeting smile to his lips before his mood took a downturn. “I found the woman I’m going to marry.” “He doesn’t know the first thing about cattle ranching. Just because he won his ranch from Old Man Finnegan in a poker game doesn’t give him the right—” Stephen stopped in mid-sentence. “What did you
say?” “I said I found her,” Richard repeated more slowly as if to a dimwitted child. Stephen’s face split in a wide grin and he pounded his brother on the back. “Very well! Who is she? Where is she? How did you find a woman crazy enough to marry you with only a day’s notice?” Richard turned away from his brother, unwilling to go into the details of his run-in with the fake Black Bandit. “It’s enough for you to know I found her and the wedding is still set for one o’clock this afternoon in Mule Ear.” Providing the bride showed up. “You’re not going to tell me all the delectable details, are you?” Stephen crossed his arms over his chest, a frown pushing his brows together. “At least give me her name. I have a right to know who my future sisterin-law is.” “Julia Blackmon.” “Ah, a widow-woman.” Stephen’s brows waggled. “No silly virgins for you, I take it. And if I’m not mistaken, she’s not hard on the eyes.” “She’s passable.” She was more than passable but Richard didn’t like discussing Julia as if she were a common whore to be chosen from a lineup of bordello women. She was due the respect of a lady, even if she had dressed as an outlaw and tried to rob him. His lips twitched as he remembered how she looked in the black trousers, vest and coat and how much he’d enjoyed stripping them from her delicious body, one item at a time. Peeling away the layers of anonymity to discover the beautiful creature beneath the man’s garb. His cock filled and he was glad he’d turned away from his brother’s sharp scrutiny. “Passable? We are talking about Julia Blackmon, the widow with the coal black hair and incredible blue eyes? She was at Clancy’s last night, was she not?” Stephen shook his head. “Oh yes indeed, she’s a beauty, all right.” “I just hope she shows for the wedding,” Richard muttered beneath his breath. Unfortunately, his brother heard his softly spoken entreaty. “You have any doubt?” “Some. We didn’t have much time to discuss it and she wasn’t too keen on the idea.” “But she did say yes, didn’t she?” “Not really.” “Then how do you know she’ll be there?” “I just do.” Richard’s back teeth ground together. Hell, he didn’t know for sure if his threat would make any difference with her and the reality of his loose hold on her ate at his gut. The more he thought about Julia, the more he wished he’d kept her until the wedding. From his short acquaintance with the woman, he could tell she was stubborn and independent, the perfect wife for a rancher. To force her into a wedding would only get her back up and push her away. Damn. He’d blown his chance. He turned to his brother. “She has to show up. That’s all there is to it.” He stalked out of the house to the well and drew a bucket of water. Stephen followed him out. “What do you plan to do?” “What does it look like?” He lifted the bucket of fresh, cool water and carried it toward the house. “The chores. And then I’m going to bathe for my wedding.” Instead of a worried expression, a smile curved his brother’s lips. “I rather relish the idea of the great Richard Rayburn standing at the alter, awaiting a bride that may or may not come. That is, if it didn’t mean losing the rights to Spring Valley. You do realize that if she doesn’t show, you’ll be the laughingstock of the entire town.”
“Then I’ll deserve it.” He stopped and stared at his brother. “Are you coming to my wedding or not?” Stephen grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it for all the tea in England.” ****** “Where is Fiona?” Julia paced the length of her bedroom, wearing her mother’s wedding gown. The clock on the mantel had passed noon over thirty minutes ago and still Fiona wasn’t back from the tailor’s shop with the needed thread to sew the flounce at the hem of her dress. If she didn’t hurry, they wouldn’t make the chapel on time. Images of the sheriff arriving at her door to haul her to jail swarmed through her mind. Hot on the tail of those images were the ones of her and Richard writhing beneath the sheets of their wedding bed. Perhaps married to a man with his talents in the bed wouldn’t be such a burden as she’d originally thought. She’d almost gotten used to the idea. Julia glanced out the window in time to see Fiona hurrying as fast as her old legs could carry her. She entered the house, the door slamming open. Julia rushed down the stairs to save the old woman the climb. She had to be exhausted by her haste into town and back. Julia’s house sat on the edge of Mule Ear, far enough away from Main Street to be a considerable trek for the aging housekeeper. But once Julia climbed into the wedding gown, Fiona insisted she couldn’t take it off. It might rip more seams, due to the age of the gown. Patience was not one of Julia’s virtues and the thirty minutes Fiona took to spend their last pennies at the tailor’s shop had nearly cost Julia a year or two of worry off her life. When Julia sailed down the stairs, Fiona glanced up at her, a wild look in her aging eyes. “Ms. Julia,” she gasped between hauling air into her lungs. “The sheriff…” Julia’s heart slammed against her chest. Had Richard gone against his word and called in the sheriff after all? Had he changed his mind about marrying her? Her stomach knotted with an overwhelming feeling of disappointment. Her cowboy had changed his mind. She grabbed the old woman’s shoulders. “What about the sheriff? Is he on his way?” If he was, she didn’t have time to climb out of this dress, much less throw a saddle on her horse. She’d go to jail, like a common criminal. “He caught the Bandit. The sheriff caught the Black Bandit!” She grabbed Julia’s hands. “Don’t you see? You don’t have to marry Mr. Rayburn after all. He can’t turn you in as the bandit when they’ve already caught him. No one would believe Mr. Rayburn’s story.” The shock of the housekeeper’s announcement soaked in, numbing Julia all over from the tip of her beautifully coifed hair to the toes of her mother’s wedding slippers. She didn’t have to marry Richard. He couldn’t threaten to throw her in jail if it was only her word against his. And who would believe Richard when they’d already caught the bandit? “Has Richard arrived in town?” “Not yet, but it’s almost one o’clock. He’s due to arrive in less than ten minutes.” Fiona stared at Julia. “What are you going to do?”
Chapter Six Richard drove his buggy into Mule Ear for the second time that day. He’d spent the morning tending his livestock and giving orders to his ranch hands. As noon approached, he’d washed up and slipped into his best Sunday clothes. While Stephen had gone ahead of him an hour earlier, Richard had waited until the last possible minute to leave. Now he hurried to town, a knot of worry lodged firmly in his throat. Would she be there? Would the beautiful Julia Blackmon show up at the chapel to marry him? The closer he got to town, the more unsure he became. Why would she should she show up? He’d threatened to have her thrown in jail? Was that any way to begin a union as man and wife? With threats? As town came into view, he almost turned the buggy around and retreated to his home in the country. What would a lovely lady like Julia want with a rangy cowboy like him? She wouldn’t be there. But what if she is? The plot of land in Spring Valley was the farthest worry from his mind. If he lost it, so what? After his time with the daring bandit last night, he was obsessed. He had to have Julia. Not just in his bed, but as his wife. Curiosity and a flimsy grasp on hope carried him forward until the buggy came to a stop in front of the chapel. Apparently Stephen had spread the word that the wedding was still on, despite Violet’s betrayal. Richard Rayburn had found himself a bride and the entire town turned out to see whom he had chosen from the eligible women. Over a hundred people had turned out in their finest to see Richard’s downfall and humiliation. Great. He made a note to thank his brother for ringing out the good news. He’d have to think of something equally dastardly to do to him in return. Linus Wallendorf, the attorney who’d read his grandfather’s will, stood on the steps to the church beside Preacher Fruendlin. Richard set the brake and leaped from the buggy, heat climbing up his collar into his cheeks. As he ascended the church steps, his gaze scanned the gathering searching for her shiny black hair and pale blue eyes. The more he scanned, the more he felt it in the pit of his stomach that she wasn’t there. “Richard.” Linus stepped forward. “In the event you reached the steps of the church to be married by your twenty-fifth birthday, which would be today, your grandfather left instructions for me to pass on another bit of information from his will.” “Can this wait, Mr. Wallendorf?” Richard shot a glare at the attorney before continuing his perusal of the crowd of women and men staring at him as if he’d grown a horn in the middle of his head. “What?” He demanded. “Did you come to see me make a fool of myself? Is that why you all are here?” “No, we’re here to help you celebrate your marriage,” Mrs. Clancy’s smile was encouraging. Entirely too happy. “Who is she? Who did you choose? Was it someone from my party?” “Richard, I must insist,” Mr. Wallendorf persisted. “As part of my duties to your grandfather, I must pass on this information prior to your wedding.” “Then do it.” She wasn’t coming anyway. Pain radiated throughout his chest, crushing the air from his lungs. Julia would rather go to jail than to marry him. Damn. He should have let her make the decision instead of threatening her. Never in a million years would he take her to the sheriff. He couldn’t bear the thought of her in jail, for all the desperate outlaws to gawk at and paw, possibly rape and hurt. No, he couldn’t do that, had never really intended to. It was nothing more than an empty threat. Had Julia seen through him? Had she guessed that he wouldn’t go ahead with his plan to turn her in? “Your grandfather said that if you were to follow through with the promise to marry by your twenty-fifth birthday, which you have, I was to inform you he never intended to give the land to Mathis in the first place.
He just wanted you to make an honest effort to wed. You never were in jeopardy of losing the land.” Linus inhaled and blew out. “There. I’ve done my duty, now where is the bride?” As Linus’s words sank in, rage spread throughout Richard’s body and up into his neck until he felt his head would explode like a volcano. “What did you say?” He grabbed Linus by the collar and lifted him off his feet. “You mean to tell me all of this was a lie?” “I only did what your grandfather asked,” Linus said, his voice strangled, his face a ghastly red. “I don’t have to marry to save my land?” All his threats, his broken engagement to Violet, possibly losing his only chance with the lovely Julia Blackmon, all rushed in to cloud his thoughts with black, fiery anger. Mr. Wallendorf shook his head, his skin turning a frightening shade of blue. “No, you don’t. Never did,” he wheezed through his choked windpipe. Richard dropped him to his feet. When he should have felt relief that the farce of a wedding didn’t have to take place, he felt empty. Stephen took the steps two at a time, apparently unaware of what had just transpired between the attorney and Richard. “Oh good, you came to your own wedding. Sorry I was late, I stopped in at the sheriff’s office. He sent his apologies that he can’t make the celebration. He caught the Black Bandit.” Richard tore his gaze from his search through the crowd. “He did what?” Had his entire world turned upside down? His heart hammered against his ribs, but he stopped himself short of racing through town to the jail. “When did he catch her and where?” “Her?” Stephen started at him as if he’d lost his mind. “It was a him and he captured the man last night on the road east of town. Apparently the bandit put up quite a fight, but they have him locked up in jail.” Him. They had the real Black Bandit, not Julia. Relief washed over him, followed by instant worry. He had no hold on Julia, now. They’d caught the real Black Bandit. It would be her word against his if he tried to turn her into the sheriff. Not that he would. Aw hell. He might as well go home. Julia would know he couldn’t turn her in. With news like that filling the gossip vines, she’d know by now. No wonder she hadn’t shown up. Richard had taken one step down when a hushed murmur spread from the back of the crowd. The murmur grew into loud applause and cheers. Richard glanced up, afraid to believe his own eyes. Julia Blackmon strode down the street toward him, head held high, the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Dressed in an old-fashioned white gown and carrying a bouquet of wildflowers, she hurried toward him, followed by an old woman. As she neared the crowd, it parted, making way for the bride. Richard descended the stone steps and held out his hand. She took it in hers, a sad smile quirking the corners of her mouth. “I know they caught the Black Bandit.” “My grandfather’s will was a hoax,” Richard blurted. “We don’t have to get married, do we?” She stared up into his eyes, waiting for his response. “No we don’t.” Richard glanced at the crowd, at the preacher and his brother and returned his gaze to her. “But since we’re here…will you marry me?” He held his breath for the longest time, until he felt he’d pass out in front of the woman he knew he could love, given half a chance. Her gaze locked with his and, for a long moment, she didn’t utter a word. Then the sweetest word he’d ever heard came from her lips. “Yes.” All the air in his chest rushed out and a grin spread across his face. “Let’s go inside.” He held his elbow out for her to take, more happiness radiating throughout his being than he ever thought possible.
“No.” She pulled back on his arm, the smile gone from her face. “No?” Had he heard her wrong? Had she not said yes? All his hopes crashed into the pit of his empty belly. Damn the woman and damn himself! Then her face lit in a blinding grin. “The church is too small to accommodate all these fine people. Can’t we get married right here in the sunshine, in front of God and the good citizens of Mule Ear?” For the second time in a minute, he let out a long sigh of relief. “Julia Blackmon, I don’t care if we get married locked up in the jailhouse, as long as you hurry it up and say I do.” Her smile turned mischievous, “That, cowboy, can be arranged.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear. “But think of all the fun you’d be missing on the wedding night if we spent it in jail.” ***** Four hours and a hundred well-wishes later found Mr. and Mrs. Richard Rayburn in the white iron bed. Julia straddled her husband’s naked body with his cock poised to enter her slick pussy. “Any regrets for having married me, cowboy?” She held steady, refusing to slide down over him until he answered. “And if I did, isn’t it a little late?” He grabbed her hips with his rough hands. She frowned and strained against his greater strength, refusing to consummate their lovemaking until she knew for certain how he felt. “I see you need training in what a woman likes to hear.” “I have training in what a woman wants.” He leaned forward and latched onto her breast, sucking it fully into his mouth, then letting it go with a loud pop. “I see.” She moved as if to dismount, not that she wanted to, but this husband had to learn respect for his wife’s needs. His hands held her firm. “I have no regrets, but what about you?” She wanted more than anything to hear words of love and endearment, but knew it was too soon to expect. “I don’t regret marrying you. As a husband, you have potential.” He slapped her fanny. “Potential?” “Yes, potential. With a little training and care, you will come to love me.” “Sweetheart, it’s too late.” He grabbed her hands in his. “The moment you stuck a pistol to my head, I was lassoed, noosed and hung.” She tried to tug her hands from his. “By your description, you can’t be too happy about that. Let me go.” Though half-hearted, she struggled against his greater strength. A woman shouldn’t give in so easily. “I can’t let you go.” He drew her down to him until her lips hovered over his. “Not when I love you so much,” he breathed against her lips. Then he kissed her hard, his tongue thrusting between her teeth as his cock thrust into her cunt. When she surfaced for air, she sat up, deepening their connection, her heart filling with the joy of his words. “You love me? So soon?” “Yes.” “I love you too, cowboy.” She rose up until his penis poised at her entrance, a crooked smile on her lips. “What more did Tessa teach you?” she demanded as she eased down over him until she sheathed the length of him once more in her moist heat. “Enough to get us started.” He rolled her over on her back and rammed into her, fucking her like a whore.
“That’ll do for a start.” Julia planted her feet in the feather mattress and rocked upward, meeting his thrusts with her own. “And I’ll take it from there.”
About the Author I’ve written for Ellora’s Cave since September of 2006 when my first release Trouble with Harry came out. Since then, I’ve expanded from reluctant genies to werewolves, chameleons, vampires and witches. For me, reading and writing gives me the freedom to explore strange new worlds and write the characters and creatures clamoring to escape my mind. I like writing everything from romantic comedy to dark and sexy suspense. Mostly I like to escape into other worlds whether grounded in reality or complete fantasy. Come…escape with me! Myla welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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