Wayward One (37 page)

“Not me.” He caught her hand in his, loosely holding her fingertips. Every cell in his body popped to life, the same as when they’d shaken hands before. “Dance with me.”

“Is dancing often a part of forming new business relations for you?”

“Nope.”

“Then why the exception for me?”

“It’s rare I get to do business with such a beautiful woman.” He tugged her fingers, aiming her at the postage-stamped dance floor. She took a small step in that direction. Her mouth said all the right things, but she was weakening. “Dance with me.”

“I have work to do. This isn’t necessary.”

“Of course not. That’s why it’ll be fun. Come on, it’s a fast one. We’ll swing around the floor a time or two and I’ll let you get back to work.”

With a short nod, she acquiesced. He lost no time in hauling her out to the floor. The instant they set foot on the parquet, the piano player segued into a slow, smoky number. He couldn’t have planned it better if he’d slipped the man five bucks.

She considered backing out. He could see it in the rigidity of her shoulders and the brief frown that wrinkled her pale brow. Then she took a deep breath that lifted her small but perfectly formed breasts and raised her arms into waltz position. Micah scooped her into his arms and swept her out into the dance before she could have second thoughts.

And then he nearly lost track of the steps in a raging sweep of lust.

Bare skin. The hand on her back rested on bare skin. As smooth as silk, with sleek muscles moving beneath.

Sure, he’d seen her dress. Logically he’d known he’d be touching her skin if they danced. He just hadn’t had a clue what effect it would have on him. Apparently that effect was to stop all semblance of mental processes.

She moved beautifully in his arms. If he even thought about a turn, she was right there with him. She avoided his gaze at first, until he spun them into a swooping series of turns, stopping only when her bright gaze lifted to his, a giddy smile curling her lips.

Involuntarily, his arms tightened, drawing her nearer. The beaded fringe around her skirt brushed his shins and their chests were one deep breath apart. The dance stretched on into the type of extended moment that approached eternity.

But nothing lasted forever, and the piano player finished with a showy flourish.

Jake stood at the hallway entry, arms crossed over his broad chest as he went nose to nose with a stacked blonde. If Jake had managed to queer the deal already, Micah would be forced to beat him bloody.

He was at their side in a moment, interrupting the little
te
̂
te-à-te
̂
te,
Kate right behind him.

“Susie, I see you’ve already met Jacob Sterling. This is Micah Trent. They’re The Kirk’s new suppliers. Mr. Trent, Mr. Sterling, this is Susie Nichols. Our resident blues singer.”

“A blues singer.” Jake’s voice rang with disapproval as he gave the blonde a once over. She was a pretty, curvy thing with doe-brown eyes and round cheeks. Jake had never oozed charm but it wasn’t like him to be instantly hostile to a woman he’d just met. “You cussed me like a sailor. I might’ve guessed.”

“Like you’re mister high and mighty.” Susie fisted her hands on her hips. “Sneaking around the joint like a second-storey man!”

“Do we have a problem here?” Kate asked.

“I caught him poking his head in your office.”

“Door was open,” Jake grunted. “I was shutting it.”

“A likely story!”

“Susie, I’ll take care of this.” Kate set a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “You go on up and sing.”

Her nose in the air, Susie flounced off.

Kate pounced. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at Micah and Jake. “Do we have a problem already?”

Forbidden love is the sweetest temptation…

Wyoming Solace

© 2012 Alanna Coca

Elise Vickerson waited a long time to gather the courage to flee her abusive marriage. To stay beyond his reach permanently, though, will take money. Getting it will take months of backbreaking labor to resurrect then sell her inherited Wyoming ranch.

With her future hanging in the balance, and her bruises still fresh, Elise will never again play doormat for any man. Except a cowboy from the neighboring spread has a way of firing her imagination—and her temper.

The news of Elise’s arrival sends Cody Campbell tearing through his files for the proof that the Vickerson ranch belongs to him. He’ll have to cool his boot heels until his father returns with the papers, but at least the view is fine—the beautiful, prickly Elise ignites a desire that’s hard to resist.

Elise tries her best to ignore her handsome neighbor, but his kisses, his arms make her feel something she hasn’t felt in a long time. Safe. As long as the spectre of her past lurks in every shadow, though, security—and any hope for a future with Cody—can never be hers.

Warning: This book contains a feisty woman on the run, a tough-as-nails cowboy who wants to wrangle her, and a villain who won’t give up.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Wyoming Solace:

The man who stood with his back to the window was much taller than Elise’s husband. The hair beneath his tan, wide-brimmed hat was dark, not stark blond. While waiting for the door to be answered, the man turned on his heel and placed strong hands onto slim hips, facing the entrance to the ranch, then quickly turned back to knock on the door again. It wasn’t Jonathan, but she couldn’t relax until she saw his face. She took a steadying breath and, after an encouraging nod from Daniel, straightened her shoulders and opened the door.

The first thing she noticed was the broad chest, with a crisp shirt stretched over the wide expanse. Her gaze traveled up the row of buttons to the strong brown neck to a jaw set in determination. Her breath caught as she made eye contact.

They were a golden brown, like cinnamon swirled into rich coffee. Captivating and exhilarating.

“Good morning.” His rich baritone added yet another facet to his attractiveness.

“Good morning.” At the tremble in her voice, she mentally hiked up her chin.

He scrutinized her, his attention lingering on the quivering collar of her dress. She held her breath until she gathered the courage to speak.

“Can I help you?”

His traveling gaze worked from the hands clasped at her waist up to her face, until his eyes narrowed. With that small gesture, panic seized her. She hoped he couldn’t tell that behind her confident façade, she shook like a leaf.

“Mary?”

She nodded, then bit her tongue. She wasn’t Mary anymore.

“Cody Campbell. I don’t know if you remember me.” He removed his hat and moved forward a step. She backed away and clenched the doorknob in her fist. A tiny muscle twitched in the corner of his mouth. “Your neighbor. Our parents have known each other for years.”

She swallowed, the cool flush of fear on her skin slowly warming. Cody was a few years older than she and rarely had had time for the little neighbor girl. He’d certainly changed. No longer the skinny teen of her youth, the Cody Campbell before her was all man.

“Yes, I remember.” She moved aside to allow him in. “Please come in.”

Cody ducked beneath the doorjamb, blinking against the dim lighting.

She studied her neighbor while he looked around the room. His dark hair brushed the nape of his neck, drawing her attention, hinting at the strength of the shoulders beneath his collared navy-blue shirt. His strong back tapered to narrow hips gloved in dark blue denim. His thighs were muscular; she could see that even beneath his jeans. From the breadth of his shoulders, she could tell he was a powerful man, and not just physically but by the aura of strength that surrounded him.

“I was sorry to hear of your father’s death.” He turned to face her. “I received the telegraph last evening.”

Elise’s polite smile disappeared. Blood drained to her toes. Why would anyone back home telegraph the news to Wyoming? Had Jonathan discovered a connection between herself and the Campbells?

“Last evening?” Her voice sounded hollow, even to her own ears. “But my father has been gone for months now.”

A telegraph from Wyoming. This could spell the demise of her carefully laid plans. Elise glanced frantically around the room. Only decorum kept her still, though she desperately wanted to race to her room and pack her things.
Where is Daniel?

“I hadn’t heard the news,” Cody said. “So when Thomas told me you’d come, I wanted to verify it.”

“I…see.” She twisted her hands together. “I apologize. I never thought to send word here after his death.”

Had he unwittingly informed one of Jonathan’s cohorts about her whereabouts? She hadn’t even given out that information to her closest confidants for fear of Jonathan’s wrath against them. What they didn’t know couldn’t be used against them. If Cody’s telegraph reached the wrong person, she could be in jeopardy.

When she looked back up, she caught the intensity of his gaze. He’d surely find her next question audacious, but the need to know what she was up against overrode manners. “Who did you speak to in Virginia?”

“I didn’t get the man’s name.” One eyebrow quirked.

She prayed he would elaborate. She must know! She searched for a way to ask for more information.

“I assumed it was a bank employee. I was given an address to forward condolences to you, which turned out to be your father’s home address in Virginia.”

So whoever answered the telegram didn’t seem to know that she’d left town. It couldn’t have been one of Jonathan’s men. Or could it be that Jonathan’s pride was so hurt by his wife’s desertion, he hadn’t told even his friends? She stared at the scuffed toe of Cody Campbell’s boot as she tried to take in the information.

Hadn’t anyone reported her disappearance to the authorities? Wasn’t there a crew out searching for her? Wasn’t her neighbor Mr. Parks curious about her whereabouts? The thought that she might not be missed disconcerted her. Jonathan could easily have killed her, and no one would have been the wiser. The only public appearance she made was an occasional visit to church, and then always veiled. Always at Jonathan’s side. The man on the other end of that telegraph could very well think she was alive and well in Virginia. Jonathan might have been preparing for her disappearance all along.

Pulling herself back to the present, Elise moistened her lips. He looked to be the type of man who never missed a detail. Her strange behavior surely piqued his curiosity. Daniel walked in bearing a tray, and Elise could have kissed him for his timely appearance.

“Oh, thank you, Daniel. Would you like some coffee, Mr. Campbell?”

“Your husband?”

Elise nearly bit her lip in two. A husband wouldn’t serve his wife and caller. A wife would certainly introduce her husband as such. Her tongue seemed to swell. Her prepared speech had scattered into the deep recesses of her mind. She glanced at Daniel.

“Elise and I are married.” Daniel smiled. It wasn’t a lie. Both were married, just not to each other.

“Elise? But I thought—”

“My name is Mary Elise. I prefer Elise now.”

“Do you take sugar?” Daniel set down the tray, his interruption saving her from further inquiry.

Elise led their visitor to the living room and lowered herself onto the couch, breathing easier when Cody didn’t voice a question regarding her marriage. He sat across from her as she poured the coffee. With the cup of coffee in hand, her flaring nerves settled, and she felt more equipped to deal with their visitor. “My father loved this ranch. He wanted so much to come back here before he passed. Did you know him well?”

Cody looked a bit out of place in the upholstered chair. She imagined him to be much more at ease in the saddle on the open plains. He emanated the vibrancy of the wild. His entire being seemed constrained by the four walls.

“He and my father were good friends. I’ll always remember the old prairie schooner he’d drive around.”

“I loved that old thing.” Elise smiled. “I wonder whatever happened to it.”

“Your father sold it to the Wilson’s in town. They have something like twelve kids and counting.”

“I used to take my dolls in there and play all day long. Until my mother dragged me in for lessons.”

“I remember you as a girl. Things have changed since you left.” His voice lowered, giving his words a different—much more personal—meaning.

An innocent lady’s education could be a gentleman’s wicked seduction.

An Introduction to Pleasure

© 2012 Jess Michaels

Mistress Matchmaker, Book 1

Lysandra Keates is running out of options. Her father is dead, her mother is ill, and her efforts to find respectable employment have ended in failure. With her small savings bleeding away, she swallows her pride—and her terror—and turns to Vivien Manning, an infamous courtesan, to match her with a wealthy protector.

For years, Viscount Andrew Callis has lived a monastic existence at his country estate, hardening his body against the snobbish, lazy young man he once was, hardening his heart against grief over the deaths of his wife and infant son. When Vivien asks him to spend one month training a young woman in the ways of a mistress, his mind resists…but his body responds with an ache he thought long dead.