The Marshal's Rebellious Bride

The Marshal’s Rebellious Bride

By

Starla Kaye

©2013 by Blushing Books® and Starla
Kaye

Copyright © 2013 by Blushing
Books® and Starla Kaye

All rights reserved. No part of
the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic
or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Kaye, Starla

The Marshal’s Rebellious Bride

eBook
ISBN: 978-1-62750-006-7

Cover Design by edhgraphics.blogspot.com

This
book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities
represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in
this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating
any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

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Starla
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“Live, love, laugh… such simple words, but words I take to
heart.
 
There are never enough hours
in my day to do even half of the things I would like to do.
 
But no matter how crazy my life get, I
try to incorporate my words to live by (live, love, laugh) into each day.”

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Don’t miss these other exciting stories by Starla Kaye:

All He Wants For Christmas

Bah, Humbug Cowboy

Cupid’s Mistake

If You Loved Me

Prologue

Wakefield Ranch, Kansas

September 1876

Whiskey raced up the porch steps, her chest drumming
in excitement. She sped into the large entry of her family’s two-story
Victorian house and wished it
was
smaller so she would
be easily heard. Frustrated, she raised her voice and yelled, “Taos! Keno!”

She waited a second to see if anyone had heard her.
Impatience had her tapping her right foot. Nothing.

Then a muffled sound came from the second floor. A
footstep?

Eager to share her news, she lifted her long skirt and
hurried up the staircase. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation. This was the
best day of her life!

“Keno! Taos!” she called out when she reached the
landing.

Again there was no response.

She stopped in the upstairs hallway between her older
brothers’ rooms to catch her breath and listen once more.

Silence. The house must have just been settling again.
Disappointment weighed her down.
Dagnabit
!
She had the most wonderful announcement to make and nobody to listen to it!

Shoulders slumping, she started to turn back toward
the stairway. All right, maybe she couldn’t tell either of her brothers
right
this minute.
 
But surely one of the ranch hands was
around somewhere. By golly,
someone
was going to listen to her! She hadn’t ridden her horse near to death from
Dodge City to not find someone—anyone—on the ranch to tell her news
to.

A thud came from Keno’s room, followed by a man’s deep
voice grumbling, “Damn.”

She dashed down the hallway to the closed door and
rapped once. Too agitated to wait for a response, she yelled, “I’m getting
married!”

Still no response.

Irritated beyond her nearly nonexistent patience, she pushed
the door open without waiting for an invitation just as she’d done a thousand
times in her nineteen years of life. “Didn’t you hear me? I said I’m getting
married
!”

She was in mid-step into the room when she froze. Her
eyes widened. “Who the hell are you?”

A mountain of a man sat on the side of the rumpled feather
bed wearing only a pair of red long johns and rubbing a toe he’d apparently
stubbed. Thick, unruly black hair dusted wide shoulders. At least a day’s worth—probably
more—of beard stubble covered carved cheeks and a strong jaw tight with
annoyance. Dark blue eyes pinned her in place. His fierce expression would have
intimidated a meeker female, but she’d grown up with two brothers who could get
pretty testy at times.

She simply returned his scowl, putting her hands on
her hips. “I repeat, who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my brother’s
bedroom?”

He stood.
Good
Lord!
He was even taller than her brothers, who towered over most men in
town. Taller than any man she’d ever met. And, oh my, he certainly filled out
those long johns quite well. For the first time that she could remember, she felt
a blush clear to the roots of her hair. She shouldn’t be noticing another man’s
private parts—even as spectacular as they appeared to be, at least from
what she could see. She was an
engaged
woman now.

She swallowed a lump in her throat. Her heart pounded
harder than when she’d sped into the house. She felt a bit lightheaded and felt
a tingling low in her belly. She blushed even more.

The remarkable mountain stepped toward her on long,
muscled legs. His back was rigid and he ground his jaw, seemed to be struggling
with his temper. She stiffened her knees to not back away and wished the heat
would leave her face.

He raised one dark eyebrow as if he were surprised
that she hadn’t fled the room at his approach. Then he looked down at her and
growled—yes, his voice was as deep as a bear’s growl she’d once heard, “Morgan.
Morgan Rydell.” He appeared to stand even taller, squared his impressive
shoulders. “Get out. Now.”

She stood inflexibly in place although her insides
roiled with nerves and she dropped her hands from her hips. This was her
family’s house, her brother’s room.
 
“No!
You
get out. Now.”

Shock flashed in his expression, apparently not used
to being not instantly obeyed. “I’m not dressed.”

She rolled her eyes and then looked pointedly at him,
sweeping her gaze over his less-than-properly clad body. “You think I haven’t
noticed that?”

His jaw tightened and a vein pulsed in his thick neck.
The man clearly had trouble controlling his temper, much like she did at times.
Except she paid the price for losing her temper on a fairly regular basis by
getting her backside warmed. She doubted few people ever took on this man or ever
thought to tell him to calm down.

“Don’t you have any sense at all?” He looked ready to
pick her up and toss her out of the room.
Yet something more
than irritation heated his eyes.
His nostrils
flared
as he seemed to draw in a ragged breath. She’d seen her fiancé react like this
after he’d dared to kiss her that one time.

Now she did take a step back. She should not be
feeling a warmth building inside her. She should not have this tremendous urge
to reach up and push that one intriguing dark curl off his forehead. She
definitely should not want to feel his lips pressed against hers!

He moved forward again.
Huge. The man is huge.

She held her ground, but her gaze shifted down his
body for an instant. Her cheeks heated even more as she noted that “his man
parts” appeared to be even bigger. She had seen her brothers in long johns—a
time or two in even less, which she didn’t like to think about. But she
couldn’t remember them looking like this. Maybe she hadn’t noticed because they
were her brothers.

She tried to pull her gaze away from his “endowments,”
but it was difficult.
Oh my, oh my!
She
licked her lips.

Did he groan? No, it had sounded more like a curse,
something a lady shouldn’t hear.