As the Cowboy Commands [Ecstasy in the Old West 2] (Siren Publishing Allure)

Ecstasy in the Old West 2

As the Cowboy Commands

Because of her brother’s illness, Helen Miller is forced into an engagement with a corrupt banker she doesn’t love, a man with hidden motives that have nothing to do with love. She doesn’t expect to experience true happiness in her life, much less unbridled passion. But when a mob of ruffians attack her one night, she’s rescued by Jared Parker, a mysterious man dressed all in black, whose expertise with a gun is matched only by his skill at sensuality.

Though he’s a gun-for-hire, Jared’s gorgeous looks and dangerous virility ignite in Helen a passionate side to herself that she never knew existed. Jared has ridden into town at the behest of Helen’s fiancé, but when he realizes what his employer is and what he expects to be done, he rebels. Can Helen free herself from a despicable fiancé and find true happiness in the arms of a gunman?

Note: This book was previously published with another publisher and has been extensively revised and expanded.

Genre:
Historical, Western/Cowboys

Length:
62,950 words
 

Ecstasy in the Old West 2

Robin Gideon

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

AS THE COWBOY COMMANDS

E-book ISBN:
978-1-62242-697-3

First E-book Publication: March 2013

Cover design by Harris Channing

All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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As the Cowboy Commands
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This one’s for Keith.

AS THE COWBOY COMMANDS

Ecstasy in the Old West 2

ROBIN GIDEON

Copyright © 2013

Whitetail Creek, Dakota Territory

Helen Miller glanced at the oversized clock on the bank wall over the teller’s head and sighed with exhaustion. Five forty-five. It had been a long day at the bank, and she was ready to go home. All she had were fifteen more minutes, and then she could relax. And leave.

“Helen, can I see you in my office?”

With a pen still in her hand, she looked up from the ledger on her angled desk and into the light-brown eyes of Gregg Neilson. He was her employer. For the past year, he had also been her fiancé.

“Pardon?” Helen said, even though she had quite clearly heard what had been asked of her.

Gregg smiled indulgently and, as he put his hands on his hips, slid his charcoal-gray suit coat back with his forearms. It was a common posture for him, one he assumed gave him an authoritative bearing, though he never quite realized that it also made his slowly but steadily growing belly more pronounced.

“I’d like to see you in my office in five minutes.”

He spoke the words softly, but Helen knew he had issued a command that she could not disobey. She nodded, giving her silent acquiescence to his authority. It wasn’t enough for Gregg. He just stood there, looking at her coolly, with just a hint of condescension in his eyes to let her and the other bank clerks know beyond doubt that he was in charge of their livelihood. At the bank, his word was unquestioned law.

Several weighty, silent seconds ticked by. Helen felt an embarrassed blush rise in her cheeks. She didn’t look around, but she could sense the eyes of her coworkers spying on her, all of them aware her off-work relationship with Gregg, each one wondering whether she would humbly bow to his authority, or if she would finally stand up to him.

“Yes,” she heard herself say, the single word coming out wooden, emotionless. Gregg continued to merely stare straight into her eyes, and after several more embarrassing seconds, she added, “Yes…
sir
.”

The right side of Gregg’s mouth pulled up in the most subtle of smiles. It was as much of an outward sign of victory as he allowed himself. He looked around, making sure that every one of his clerical staff at the First Bank & Trust of Whitetail Creek had witnessed how he had commanded both respect and submission to his dominant authority—even from his fiancée. Everyone knew that if he could treat her like worthless chattel, then surely he could crush the rest of them beneath his boots without thinking twice about it.

He turned on his heel and walked past the heavy oak door with his name prominently painted on it, along with his impressive-sounding title of “Executive Vice President.”

Gregg Neilson could have privately spit on Helen and caused her less pain than the public humiliation.

At the desk just to her right sat Marcus Olson. He was twenty-one, frightfully thin, emotionally intense, and Helen’s best friend at the bank. Marcus was also, by his own admission, the world’s busiest busybody.

From the corner of his mouth, Marcus whispered, “I’ll bet he wants to get fresh with you again.”

Helen groaned. This was not the conversation she wanted to have with Marcus.

“Don’t say that. Don’t tease me about Gregg.” She spoke the words softly, each syllable hinting at inner pain that the high-spirited Marcus just didn’t seem to understand. “Gregg’s not…not everything you imagine.”

“He’s worth a fortune, and he adores you,” Marcus shot back, keeping his voice low, a grin on his lips as she looked at his best friend. “I don’t care about what he’s not. What he
is
is rich enough to keep you in comfort and style for the rest of your life. All you have to do is walk down the aisle with him, say ‘I do’ when the preacher tells you to, and after that your life is a cakewalk. There isn’t anything that you won’t be able to afford.”

Helen sighed again. If only it were all just as easy as that!

“And once you marry him,” Marcus continued, warming to a subject that had fascinated him since the beginning of Helen’s engagement, “then you can guarantee that your brother will get the best doctoring in the world.”

Tersely, Helen said, “Don’t remind me about my obligations to my brother. That’s almost all I ever think about.”

“He’s got tuberculosis. That sanitarium in Denver has got to be costing you every red cent you make here at the bank. Why not just get over your marriage jitters and make it official with Gregg? I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help out the invalid kid brother of his wife.”

“It’s not that simple.”

Nastily, Marcus—who was always aware of the cost of things—commented, “Or maybe you’re just a ninny? If Gregg had wanted a financial arrangement with me, I wouldn’t have let a week pass before I was on my knees. Is it what happens in bed that you’re all afraid of?”

“Marcus…please…I’m asking you nicely…please don’t press me on this.”

“Fine. If that’s what you really want. But I’m your best friend, and a best friend is supposed to put some sense into his best friend’s head if she doesn’t have it there on her own.” He looked heavenward, as though perhaps celestial powers might be necessary to get Helen to agree to Marcus’s way of thinking. In a more gentle voice, he added, “I’m only trying to see that you don’t mess up the chance of a lifetime. The minute Gregg puts that ring on your finger, all your worries are over. There’s nothing that you’ll want that you can’t have.”

Nothing…except happiness, Helen thought, though she kept this unpleasant truth to herself. She understood that Marcus only wanted the best for her, and for that Helen was grateful. But sometimes she wished that her dear friend wasn’t so obsessed with what he perceived as an inseparable link between
money
and
love
.

“You had better go,” Marcus warned. “You know how he gets whenever you don’t hurry when he calls for you.”

Marcus’s words, though spoken with the best of intentions, lacerated Helen’s pride. Yes, she was all too aware of how angry Gregg got whenever she didn’t genuflect and grovel for him. But unlike Marcus, Helen didn’t believe that living in a fancy mansion and having money to burn were the only things that a person lived for.

Helen set her pen down on the horizontal holder at the top of her desk, closed the lid to her inkwell, then eased off her chair. The bank had five employees, and Helen could sense them all looking at her out of the corners of their eyes.

Marcus whispered, “Remember to smile. He likes it when you smile.”

Helen went to Gregg’s office, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress at the tops of her thighs that had been created by sitting at her desk all day. If Gregg didn’t like something about her appearance, he didn’t hesitate to let her know of his disappointment.