Книга - Million Dollar Baby

Million Dollar Baby
Janice Maynard


One anonymous night, one little secret!Going home with a stranger isn’t sheltered heiress Brooke Goodman’s style. Neither is falling back into bed with the same sinfully sexy man. But now she’s pregnant, and Austin wants to wed ! Should she trust a man who can promise her his name but not forever?







After one night with an anonymous cowboy...

...there’s a little secret on the way!

Going home with a stranger isn’t sheltered heiress Brooke Goodman’s MO. Neither is falling back into bed with the same sinfully sexy man...or asking him to marry her so she can inherit millions. But now she’s pregnant, and Austin wants to wed for real! Should she trust a man who can promise her his name but not forever?


USA TODAY bestselling author JANICE MAYNARD loved books and writing even as a child. After multiple rejections, she finally sold her first manuscript! Since then, she has written fifty-plus books and novellas. Janice lives in Tennessee with her husband, Charles. They love hiking, traveling and family time. You can connect with Janice at www.janicemaynard.com (http://www.janicemaynard.com), www.Twitter.com/janicemaynard (http://www.Twitter.com/janicemaynard), www.Facebook.com/janicemaynardreaderpage (http://www.Facebook.com/janicemaynardreaderpage), www.Facebook.com/janicesmaynard (http://www.Facebook.com/janicesmaynard) and www.Instagram.com/janicemaynard (http://www.Instagram.com/janicemaynard).


Also by Janice Maynard (#u55d1a74b-7e1f-5330-87d9-fec97bea603e)

The Kavanaghs of Silver Glen miniseries

A Not-So-Innocent Seduction

Baby for Keeps

Christmas in the Billionaire’s Bed

Twins on the Way

Second Chance with the Billionaire

How to Sleep with the Boss

For Baby’s Sake

Highland Heroes miniseries

His Heir, Her Secret

On Temporary Terms

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


Million Dollar Baby

Janice Maynard






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-07689-0

MILLION DOLLAR BABY

© 2018 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For the artists and dreamers among us…

May you always find ways to keep your creative spirit

alive. The world needs you!


Contents

Cover (#u1f9ea3cd-c769-52d5-8f2c-e4e0b113772e)

Back Cover Text (#u266f5b45-1437-5efc-ab57-702c6750ab8b)

About the Author (#u20e8e968-0c48-5de8-8ba6-f41cee19d918)

Booklist (#uee527530-49b2-5494-aa47-c29839e28aba)

Title Page (#u3ca5bfe0-bed8-5ab7-8d9e-ee7d6dd9a5b0)

Copyright (#uc5dd3673-f2e6-569c-a707-9d7bf00530da)

Dedication (#u4107971a-e943-52f7-8337-1a3eba3bbda4)

One (#ufccf3532-89db-5528-8694-936f13d48229)

Two (#u67d1aa80-fdb1-572f-bd84-6993f37b5364)

Three (#u8082f515-b968-5930-a61e-b4f15e5b627a)

Four (#ue298bbf2-f1f7-51e6-99b3-2c370221df0c)

Five (#u88534731-1056-52a3-8180-7177600c8717)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#u55d1a74b-7e1f-5330-87d9-fec97bea603e)

A dimly lit bar filled with rowdy patrons was an uncomfortable place to be on a Thursday night near the witching hour...if you were a woman without a date and too shy to make eye contact with anyone. The music was loud, masking Brooke’s unease.

She was lonely and so very tired of being the forgotten Goodman child. She’d spent her entire life toeing some invisible line, and what had it gotten her? Neither of her parents respected her. Her two older brothers were out conquering the world. And where was Brooke? Stuck at home with Mom and Dad in Royal, Texas. Held hostage by their expectations and her own eager-to-please personality. The whole situation sucked.

She nursed her virgin strawberry daiquiri and stared at the tiny seeds nestling in the ice. Impulsive decisions were more her style than drunken peccadilloes. Brooke had seen too many of her friends almost ruin their lives with a single alcohol-fueled mistake. She might be crazy, but she was clearheaded.

Suddenly, she realized that the band had vacated the stage. The remaining plaintive music—courtesy of the lone guitar player—suited Brooke’s mood. She didn’t even mind the peanut-strewn floor and the smell of stale beer. At the same moment, she saw a man sitting alone at the bar, three empty stools on either side of him. Something about his broad shoulders made the breath catch in her throat. She had seen him walk in earlier. Instantaneous attraction might be a quirk of pheromones, but yearning had curled in the pit of her stomach even then. Sadly, the dance floor had been too crowded, and she had lost sight of him before she could work up the courage to introduce herself.

Now, here he was. All the scene needed was a shaft of light from heaven to tell her this was the man. This was her moment. She wanted him.

Butterflies fluttered through her. Oh, God. Was she really going to do it? Was she really going to pick up a stranger?

There was little question in her mind that he was her type. Even seated, she could tell that he was tall. His frame was leanly muscled and lanky, his posture relaxed. His dark blond hair—what she could see of it beneath the Stetson—was rumpled enough to be interesting and had a slight curl that gave him an approachable charm. Unfortunately, she couldn’t gauge the color of his eyes from this distance.

Before she could change her mind, she lurched to her feet, frosty glass in hand, and made her way across the room. Not a single person stopped her. Not a single person joined the solitary man at the bar.

Surely it was a sign.

Taking a deep breath, she set her drink and her tiny clutch purse on the polished mahogany counter and hopped up on the leather-covered stool. No need to panic. It was only a conversation so far. That’s all.

Now that she was close to him, she felt a little dizzy.

She gnawed her bottom lip and summoned a smile. “Hello, Cowboy. Mind if I join you?”

* * *

Austin glanced sideways and felt a kick of disappointment. The little blonde was a beauty, but she was far too young for him. Her gray eyes held an innocence he had lost years ago.

He shot her a terse smile. “Sorry, ma’am. I was about to leave.”

Her face fell. “Oh, don’t go. I thought we could chat.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Chat?”

Mortification stained her cheeks crimson. “Well, you know...”

“I don’t know,” he said. “That’s the point. This could be a sorority prank, or maybe you’re a not-quite-legal girl trying to lose her virginity. You look about sixteen, and I’m not keen to end up in jail tonight.”

She scowled at him. “That’s insulting.”

“Not at all. You reek of innocence. It’s a compliment, believe me. Unfortunately, I’m not the guy you’re looking for.”

“Maybe I want one who doesn’t end sentences with prepositions.”

The bite in her voice made him grin. “Are you insinuating that I’m uneducated?”

“Don’t change the subject. For your information, I’m twenty-six. Plenty old enough to know my own mind.” She took a deep breath. “I’m in the mood for romance.”

“I think you mean sex.”

He drawled the five words slowly, for nothing more than the pleasure of watching all that beautiful creamy skin turn a darker shade of dusky pink. “Sex?” The word came out as a tiny high-pitched syllable. Huge, smoky, thickly lashed eyes stared up at him.

This time he hid the grin. Poor kid was petrified.

He couldn’t deny that he was tempted. She was genuine and sweet and disarmingly beautiful...in a healthy, girl-next-door kind of way. Her pale blond hair was caught up in a careless ponytail, and her royal-blue silk shirt and skinny jeans were nothing pretentious. Even her ballerina flats were unexceptional. She was the kind of woman who probably looked exactly this good when she rolled out of bed in the morning.

That thought took him down a road he needed to avoid. His sex hardened, making his pants uncomfortable. He held out his hand, attempting to normalize the situation. “I’m Au—”

She slapped her hand over his mouth, interrupting his polite introduction. “No,” she said, sounding desperate and anxious all at the same time. “I’ll call you Cowboy. You can call me Mandy.”

He took her wrist and moved her hand away. “Not your real name?”

“No.”

“Ah. Aliases. Intriguing.”

“You’re making fun of me.” Her face fell.

“Maybe a little.” He smiled to let her know he was teasing.

Without warning, their flirtatious repartee was rudely curtailed. A tall, statuesque redhead took the bar stool at his right shoulder and curled an arm around his waist. “Buy me another beer, will you? Sorry I was gone so long. Who the hell thinks it’s a good idea to build a ladies’ room with only a single stall?”

Austin groaned inwardly. Damn. He’d actually forgotten about Audra for a moment. “Um...”

Poor Mandy went dead white and looked as if she were going to throw up. “Excuse me,” she said, with all the politeness of a guest at high tea with the queen. “It was a pleasure to meet you, but I have to go now.”

Thank God Audra was a quick study. She sized up the situation in a glance. Her eyes widened. “Oh, crap. I’m sorry. Don’t go. I’m his sister. Honest.”

Mandy hesitated.

Austin nodded. “It’s true. Underneath that bottled red hair is a blonde just like me.”

Audra stood up and grimaced. “Forget the beer, little brother. I’ll grab a cab. See you at the house later.”

Then his five-years-older sister went completely off script. She stepped around him and took both of Mandy’s hands in hers. “Here’s the thing, ma’am. I know it’s sometimes scary to meet men these days. Getting hit on in a bar can be dangerous.”

“She was hitting on me,” Austin muttered.

Both women ignored him.

Audra continued. “My brother is a good, decent man. He doesn’t have any diseases, and he doesn’t assault women. You don’t have to be afraid of him.”

“Audra!” His head threatened to explode from embarrassment.

Mandy barely glanced at him. “I see.”

Audra nodded. “He doesn’t live here. He’s in town visiting me, and we came out tonight to...well...”

For once, his outrageous sister looked abashed.

Mandy gave him a puzzled look. “To what?”

Dear Lord. He gritted his teeth. If he didn’t tell her, Audra would. “Today is the anniversary of my wife’s death. She’s been gone for six years. I finally took my wedding ring off, thanks to my sister’s badgering. That’s it. That’s all.”

Tears welled in Mandy’s eyes. She blinked them back, but one rolled down her cheek. “I had no idea. I am so sorry.”

Audra patted her shoulder. “It was a long time ago. He’s fine.”

Austin got to his feet and grabbed his sister’s arm none too gently despite her glowing character testimonial. “You’re leaving. Now.”

He glanced back at Mandy. “Don’t move.”

On the way to the door, Audra smirked at him. “I won’t wait up for you. Have fun tonight.”

“You are such a brat.”

Outside on the sidewalk, he hugged her. “I won’t discuss my love life with you. A man has boundaries.”

Audra kissed his cheek. “Understood. I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

“I am happy,” he said.

“Liar.”

“I’m happier than I was.”

“Go back in there before she gets cold feet.”

“I love you, sis.”

“I love you, too.”

He watched his only sibling get into a cab, and then he looked through the window into the bar where not one but two men had taken advantage of his absence to move in on Mandy.

No way. No way in hell. The little blonde was his. At least for tonight.

* * *

Brooke breathed a sigh of relief when her cowboy returned and dispersed the crowd that had gathered around her. Apparently if the hour was late enough and the man drunk enough, even the most vehement no didn’t register.

When it was just the two of them again, the cowboy gave her a slow, intimate smile that curled her toes. “May I buy you another drink?”

“No, thanks. I wasn’t drinking. Not really. Alcohol clouds a person’s judgment. I wanted to be clearheaded tonight.”

“I see.” He cocked his head and studied her. “Do you live here in Joplin?”

“Nope.”

“So we’re both just passing through?”

“It would seem that way.”

A small grin teased the corners of his mouth. The man had a great mouth. Really great. She could imagine kissing that mouth all night long.

Finally, he shook his head, bemusement in his baffled gaze. “I know what I’m doing here, Mandy, but I’m still not clear about why you showed up at this bar tonight.”

“Does it matter?” She hadn’t expected a man to quiz her. The fact that her cowboy was slowing things down rattled her.

He nodded. “It does to me.”

“Maybe I’m horny.”

He snorted out a laugh and tried to turn it into a cough...unsuccessfully. Then he rubbed two fingers in the center of his forehead and sighed. “I’m not asking for your life story. But I’d like to know why me and why tonight. Is this a rebound thing? Are you trying to teach someone a lesson? Am I even warm?”

“Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would already have me in bed right now.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

The look in his eyes made her feel like a naughty schoolgirl. And not in a good way. She drained the last of her melted daiquiri and wrinkled her nose. “My life is boring. I’m having some family issues. For once I wanted to do something wild and exciting and totally out of character. Plus, you’re really hot.”

“So you don’t frequent bars as a rule?”

“You know I don’t,” she grumbled, “or I wouldn’t be so bad at it.”

He flicked the end of her ponytail. “I never said you were bad at it.”

Some deep note in his voice caught her stomach and sent it into a free fall of excitement and anticipation. “So are we good now?” she asked.

The cowboy stared at her. He stared at her for so long that her nipples pebbled and her thighs clenched. “What makes you believe that you and I will be wild and exciting? What if you chose wrong?”

She gaped. Words escaped her.

He closed her mouth with a finger below her chin. “It would seem prudent to take me out for a test drive ahead of time...don’t you think?”

Before she could do more than inhale a sharp, startled breath, he slid one big hand beneath her ponytail, cupped the base of her neck and pulled her toward him just far enough for their mouths to meet comfortably.

Actually, comfortable was a misnomer for what happened next. Fireworks shot toward the ceiling in all directions. Angel choirs sang. A million dizzying pinwheels shot through her veins and rocketed into her pelvis.

The man was kissing her. Nothing more. So why was the earth shaking beneath her feet?

He tasted of whiskey and temptation. If she’d had any remaining reservations about her plan, they vanished in the heat of his lips on hers. It was possible she whimpered. She definitely leaned in and wordlessly begged for more.

Somewhere in the distance catcalls and whoops and hollers signaled an appreciative audience. But Brooke barely noticed. Her hands settled on the cowboy’s shoulders. “Take off your hat,” she begged.

“I only take off the hat in bed,” he said, the words rough with lust and determination.

“Oh.”

His smile was more of a grimace. “It’s not too late for you to walk away. In fact, it’s never too late. You started this little fantasy, but you can say no whenever you want.”

She looked up at him, feeling the oddest combination of confidence and stomach-curling uncertainty. “I don’t want to say no.”

“Do you have a hotel room?”

“Not yet.”

“Any preference?”

“Not somewhere fancy.” Translation—nowhere that the staff might know her parents.

His terse nod seemed to indicate agreement. “Let’s go, then.” He tossed money on the bar for the tab and took her elbow as they walked out.

Outside, they paused on the sidewalk. It was August, and the air was pleasant at this hour. He pointed at a late-model pickup truck. “Would you like me to drive?”

Brooke shook her head. Who knew that the mechanics of a one-night stand were so tricky? “My things are in my car. I’ll meet you there. How about the Sherwood Hotel? Two streets over?”

“I know it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling brutally young and stupid.

“For what?”

“I’m sorry you lost your wife.”

He cursed beneath his breath, rolled his shoulders and stared up at the moon, his profile starkly masculine. “You told me we weren’t going to use our real names,” he said. “That was your rule. Well, mine is no rehashing the past. This is sex, Mandy. Wild and exciting and temporary—if that’s not what you want, walk away.”

His entire body vibrated with tension. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was angry or sexually frustrated or both.

In that moment, she realized that her reasons for coming to Joplin no longer existed. She wasn’t here to flirt or to pick up a stranger or to have an anonymous tryst to prove to herself that she wasn’t boring.

Right here, right now...with her limbs shaking and her mouth dry and her nerves shot...the only thing she wanted was to undress this cowboy and to have him return the favor. Because this man, this beautiful, hauntingly complicated man, tugged at her heartstrings. She wanted to know him in every way there was to know a lover.

She only had one night. It would have to be enough.

Daringly, she reached out and put a hand on his arm. She could feel his taut, warm muscles through the soft cotton fabric of his shirt. “I don’t want to walk away, Cowboy. I’ll meet you at the hotel. Don’t make me wait.”


Two (#u55d1a74b-7e1f-5330-87d9-fec97bea603e)

Austin Bradshaw couldn’t be entirely sure he wasn’t dreaming. This night was like nothing he had ever experienced. He glanced in his rearview mirror to make sure Mandy’s little navy Honda was still behind him. He chuckled to himself, because he had a hunch the car was a rental. His mystery woman struck him as the kind of person who would attend to the details of a plan with great care.

The desk clerk at the midrange hotel was neither curious nor particularly friendly. He swiped Austin’s credit card, handed over two keys and immediately returned his focus to whatever show he was watching on his laptop.

When Austin went back outside, he found Mandy leaning against the side of his pickup, an overnight case in her hand. She shifted from one foot to the other. “All set?”

He stared at her. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Quit asking me that,” she huffed. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Releasing a slow, steady breath, he took the bag out of her death grip and set it on the ground. Then he cupped her head in his hands, tilted her face up to his and crushed his mouth over hers. He’d been in a state of arousal now for the better part of two hours. The faint scent of her perfume and the taste of her lips were imprinted on his brain.

He wanted her. Naked. Hungry. Begging. The more he thought about the night to come, the more he unraveled. At the rate they were going, there wasn’t going to be much of the night left.

Reluctantly, he let her go. “Hurry,” he said.

The hotel was three stories tall with indoor corridors and modern decor. At this point, Austin could have taken her up against the wall in the stairwell, but he resisted.

They rode the elevator to the top floor. Their room was at the end on the corner. His hand shook so badly it took him three tries to get the key in the door. He expected Mandy to give him grief about it, but she never said a word.

When they were finally inside, he closed the door carefully in deference to their fellow guests and leaned against it.

Mandy frowned. “Where’s your bag?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Why not?”

“That’s not really how a one-night stand works, honey.”

She looked mortified. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you’d be more comfortable if you had your bag. Women like to have their little bits and pieces with them.”

Mandy wrapped her arms around her waist and scanned the room like she was casing it for fire exits.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reminding himself that patience was a virtue.

Her bottom lip trembled. “I just realized something. If tonight is your first time to have sex in six years, I can’t go through with this. That’s too much pressure for me. Honestly.”

He burst out laughing, and then laughed even harder at the look of indignation on her face. “Not to worry,” he said, wiping his cheeks and trying to get himself under control. His companion clearly didn’t see the humor in the situation. “I’ve had sex. Occasionally. And besides, if what you said were true, we’d never have made it out of the parking lot back at the bar. So no pressure, okay? Just you and me and all that wild excitement you wanted.”

Some of the tension drained from her body. “Oh. Well, that’s good. I guess.”

“Come here, honey.” He held out his hand.

She came to him willingly. But her gaze didn’t quite meet his, and her cheeks were flushed.

He unbuttoned the top button of her shirt. “Your skin is like cream. Beautiful and smooth.” Brushing the tops of her breasts with his fingertips, he smiled inwardly when she sighed.

“You’re still wearing your hat,” she said.

“And we’re still not in bed.”

“Close enough.” She reached up and took off his Stetson. After tossing it on the nearest chair, she massaged his head with both hands. “You shouldn’t cover up your hair. Women would kill for this color.”

He could tell she was more comfortable with him now. That was a very good thing, because he didn’t want a timid partner in bed. “Feel free to take off anything else that catches your fancy.”

“Very funny.” She toyed with his belt buckle. “Why aren’t you calling me Mandy?”

“Because you don’t look like a Mandy. It’s not your real name. So I’ll stick with honey. Unless you want to fess up and tell me the truth. It’s not like I’m going to stalk you.”

“I know that.” The snippy response was the tiniest bit sulky. And her bottom lip stuck out. It was so damned cute, he wanted to suck on it.

Gently, he pulled her shirt loose from the waistband of her jeans and slid his hands underneath. Her skin was warm and soft. So soft. He wanted to make this night good for her.

He unhooked her bra. It still bothered him that he didn’t know why she was here...not really. But his brain was losing the battle with the driving urge to give her what she wanted. What he wanted.

When he slipped her shirt from her shoulders and took her bra right along with it, she didn’t protest. The sight of her standing there, all white creamy skin and big gray eyes and rosy pink nipples, stole his breath and tightened his gut. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he said huskily, breathing it like a prayer.

He hadn’t lied to her. There had been a handful of women in six years. But those had been real one-night stands. Women whose names and faces he barely remembered. Divorcées. Widows hurting like he was. The sex had slaked a momentary physical need, but afterward, his grief had been just as deep, just as raw.

In a way, it had been easier not to have sex, because that way he didn’t have to be reminded of all he had lost.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Something about tonight felt different. Maybe because his mystery woman was ridiculously charming and vulnerable and maybe even a little bit naive. She brought out his protective instincts and tapped into raw emotions inside him that he would have sworn were dead and buried.

With her he felt the need to be tender.

“Hang on, honey.” Hitching her higher on his chest, he grabbed for the comforter with one hand and dragged it and the sheet halfway down the bed. Then he dropped the big-eyed blonde on the mattress and tried not to pounce on her. Instead, he came down beside her and propped his head on his hand.

Lazily, he traced a fingertip from her collarbone, down between her breasts, over her concave belly to her tiny cute navel. “Tell me what you’re thinking, sweet lady. I swear I don’t bite.”

Her body was so rigid it was giving him a headache.

She gnawed her lower lip. “I forgot about protection.”

“Not to worry. We’re good for two rounds.” He reached in his back pocket and extracted a duo of condom packets. “I had these in the truck.”

“Oh. That’s nice.”

“Tell me your name,” he coaxed. He bent over her and kissed his way from her navel up along her rib cage, pausing just at the slope of her breast and waiting until her breathing ratcheted up a notch and a shudder worked its way through her body.

“You’re not playing fair...” She gazed up at him from underneath sultry lashes.

Did she have any idea what that look did to a man? He flicked his tongue across her nipple...barely a graze. “I play to win, honey. You wanted wild and exciting? That usually means breaking the rules.”

He was breathing hard, barely holding it together. Playing this game was fun, more fun than he’d had in a hell of a long time. But he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. Already he wanted her so badly he was shaking.

“Brooke,” she whispered. “My name is Brooke.”

The trust on her face made him ashamed. She was doing something out of character. He knew it. And he was prepared to help her in her quest for a night of reckless passion. What kind of man did that make him?

He swallowed hard. “Brooke. I like it. With an e or no e?”

She smiled. “Does it matter?”

“It does to me.” And it did. When this was over and they went their separate ways, he wanted to remember her exactly like this. He wanted to know everything there was to know.

She caressed his chin, feeling the stubble. He’d shaved at six that morning. “With an e, Cowboy. Now it’s your turn.”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Austin,” he groaned. “My name is Austin.” Moving his lips across her breast, he kissed his way up hills and down valleys and back again until Brooke panted and whimpered and begged. That was the sign he had been waiting for.

He rolled to his feet and ripped at his shirt, dragging it over his head in one frustrated motion. Then he toed off his boots and shucked out of his jeans and boxers. When he was buck-ass naked, he stood beside the bed and tried to catch his breath. It was embarrassing to be so winded when he hadn’t even started yet.

Brooke came up on her knees and stared. “Are you normal?”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

She waved a hand. “Your, um...you know. It seems kind of big.”

A slither of unease sent ice water through his veins. “You wouldn’t lie to me about that virgin thing. Would you?”

She straightened her shoulders, her eyes flashing. “I am not a liar.”

“So you’ve definitely had sex.”

“Of course.”

“How many times?”

“That’s none of your business.” She unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied them down her thighs.

His mouth went dry. “I was gonna do that.”

She gave him a look. “You were taking too long. I’m not sure I picked the right man. Are you positive you know what you’re doing?”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or howl with frustration. “God, you’re a piece of work.”

“You promised me wild and exciting. I’m still wearing panties.”

He grabbed her around the waist and tumbled them both to the bed, rolling so they landed with Brooke on top. She was easily eight inches shorter than he was and forty pounds lighter. She pretended to struggle. He pretended to let her. When they were both breathless, he kissed her hard.

She melted into him, purring his name with soft, erotic yearning that made every cell in his body ache.

He rubbed her back. “I’m glad you walked into my life tonight, Brooke with no last name.” Her ponytail had come loose. Pale, sunshiny hair tumbled around them, soft and silky. It smelled like lilacs and innocence and happy summer afternoons.

She nibbled his chin. “Me, too. I nearly chickened out, but then I saw you sitting there, and I felt something.”

“Something?” He palmed her bottom. It was a perfect bottom. Plump and pert and exactly the right size for a man’s hands.

“A zing, I guess. Animal attraction.” She shifted her weight and nearly injured him. He was so hard his balls ached. The condom was in arm’s reach. All he had to do was grab it. But he didn’t want this to be over. He didn’t want the night to end.

Without warning, Brooke rolled off him, settled onto her side, and took his sex in her hand. “I like the way you look, Cowboy.” She stroked him slowly, her gaze focused on the task at hand.

The feel of her cool slender fingers on his taut flesh skated the line between pleasure and pain. He gritted his teeth and tried not to come. “I told you my name,” he groaned.

She rested her cheek on his shoulder and continued her torture. “Yes, you did.” She gripped him tightly. “Austin.” She whispered it low and sweet.

Sweat broke out on his brow. This woman was killing him slowly...

* * *

Brooke was hot and dizzy and elated. For an idea that had begun so badly, this was turning out to be a night to remember. Austin was everything she could have asked for in a lover. Demanding and yet tender. Tough and masculine, but still considerate of her insecurities.

He grabbed her wrist and moved it away from his erection. “Enough,” he croaked.

Before she could protest, he reached for the condom, rolled it on and dragged her panties down her legs. Then he was on top of her and in her and she forgot how to breathe.

He was heavy and wildly aroused. Thankfully, she was equally excited. Despite his impressive stats, her body accepted him easily. It had been a long time for her, but he didn’t have to know that. She canted her hips, tried to relax and concentrated on the incredible sensation of fullness as her body became one with his.

Something about the moment dampened her eyes and tightened her throat. Maybe it was the thought of all he had lost. Maybe it was a breathless yearning to have a man like this for her own one day. Whatever it was, it made her weepy and left her feeling raw and vulnerable. As if it were impossible to hide from him.

He came quickly, with a muttered apology, his chest heaving. Brooke tried to squelch her disappointment. After a quick trip to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, he returned. In their hurry, they had left the lamp on. Now, he flipped the switch, plunging the room into darkness. Only an automatic night-light in the bathroom dispersed some of the gloom as their eyes adjusted.

Austin smoothed the hair from her face. “I’m sorry about that, honey. You had me pretty wound up, and it’s been a little while for me.”

“It’s fine.”

His grin was a flash of white. “It’s not fine. But it will be. Spread your legs, darlin’. Let me show you the fireworks.”

She moved her ankles apart obediently, but inside, she grimaced. This had never been her strong suit. It was too personal, too intimate. The only man who had ever gotten this far with her had been really bad at it.

Fortunately, Austin wasn’t privy to her negative thoughts. He cradled her head in his arm and touched her with confidence, the confidence of a man who knew how to pleasure a woman and liked doing it. “Close your eyes,” he crooned. “Relax, Brooke.”

It was only when he said those two words that she realized her fingers were clenched in the sheets and her shoulders were rigid. “Sorry,” she muttered. “You don’t have to do this.”

Austin frowned. “I need to touch you. Your body is beautiful and soft and so damn sexy. I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Arrogant cowboy...”

He entered her with two fingers and used his thumb to stroke the spot where she ached the most. The keening cry that escaped her throat was embarrassing. But soon, embarrassment was the furthest thing from her mind.

Austin decimated her. He whispered naughty things and caressed her with sure steady touches until her own responses shocked her and her body became a stranger. Just as her spine arched off the bed, she did indeed scream his name. Moments later, he moved on top of her and entered her a second time.

The orgasm was incredible. On a scale of one to ten, it was some imaginary number that only scientists from outer space could decipher.

This time, Austin was just getting started as she tumbled down the far side of the hill. He laughed roughly and shoved her up the peak again, thrusting harder and faster and holding her tightly until they both found the pinnacle at almost the same moment and lost themselves in the fiery pleasure.

Brooke was boneless, elated and utterly spent. Never again would she settle for the kind of relationship that was boring and mundane. This wonderful cowboy had given her that.

They lay together in a tangle of arms and legs as their bodies cooled and their heartbeats slowed.

At last, Austin shifted so she wasn’t bearing his full weight. “You okay?” he asked, sounding sleepy and sated and maybe a little bit smug.

She nuzzled her head against his warm, hard shoulder. “Oh, yeah. Better than okay.” Tomorrow morning, she was going to get online and give this hotel five stars across the board.

He groaned and rolled away. “Don’t move. I’m coming back.”

She heard the water run in the bathroom. Then silence. Then a low curse.

“What’s wrong?” she said, raising her voice in alarm.

He stumbled back into bed, his skin chilled. “The condom broke.” His voice was flat. She couldn’t read him at all.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill. For other reasons. And besides, it’s the wrong time of the month.” She was due to start her period any day, actually.

“I’m healthy, Brooke. Nothing to worry about there.”

“Then we’re in the clear.”

He yawned and pulled her into his arms, spooning her from behind. “Let me sleep for an hour, and we can go again.”

“You’re out of condoms.”

He kissed the nape of her neck. “We’ll improvise.”

Brooke lay perfectly still and felt the exact moment when Austin crashed hard. His breathing deepened. The arm that encircled her became heavy.

She knew the time had come for her to go home, but she couldn’t leave him. Not yet. This night had turned into something she hadn’t anticipated, something she hadn’t really wanted.

Here was a man who had known pain and loss. Even if they lived in the same town, he wouldn’t want a woman like her. She couldn’t even stand up to her parents. She had her own battles to fight. And she would have to do it without this sweet, gruff cowboy.

She inhaled his scent. Tried to memorize it. The way his body held hers seemed fated somehow. But that was a lie. He was a man she had picked up in a bar. A man with demons, like any other man.

Carefully, with her chest tight and her hands shaking, she extracted herself from his arms one heartbeat at a time. It wasn’t easy. Fortunately, Austin slept like the dead. Once she was out of the bed, the rest went smoothly.

She visited the bathroom. She dressed quietly. She took her bag and her purse and slipped out into the hall.

On the other side of the door, she started to shake. Leaving her one-night stand cowboy was the hardest thing she had ever had to do.

The drive from Joplin to Royal in the middle of the night seemed surreal. Punching in the alarm code and sneaking into the house was almost anticlimactic. She was too tired to shower. Instead, she tumbled into bed and fell asleep instantly.


Three (#u55d1a74b-7e1f-5330-87d9-fec97bea603e)

Two months later

Austin parked his truck across the street from the Texas Cattleman’s Club, got out and stretched. It had been three years...maybe four...since he had last been in Royal, Texas. Not much had changed. An F4 tornado a while back had destroyed a few homes and businesses and damaged others, but the town had rebuilt.

The club itself was a historic structure over a hundred years old. The rambling single-story building with its dark stone-and-wood exterior and tall slate roof was an icon in the area. Ordinarily, Austin wouldn’t be the kind of guy to darken the doors, but he was meeting Gus Slade here at 10:00 a.m.

Austin had plenty of money in the bank...likely more than he would ever need. But he didn’t have the blue-blooded ranching pedigree that men like Gus respected. Still, Gus had invited him here to do a job, and Austin had agreed.

Audra was right. He’d been drifting since Jenny died. It was time to get his business back on track. He’d rambled all over a five-county area in recent years doing odd jobs to pay the bills. The truth was, he was a damned good architect and had been wasting his skills.

Even this job with Gus was a throwaway. But it could open the doors to something more significant, so he had jumped at the chance.

He took his time crossing the street. No need to look too eager. Already, he had made concessions. Instead of his usual jeans and flannel shirt, he had worn neatly pressed khakis, a spotless white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his best pair of boots. Cowboys came in all shapes and sizes in Texas. Austin was shooting for ambitious professional for today’s meeting.

It was who he had been once upon a time. Until Jenny got sick...

Shoving away the unhappy memories, he ran a hand through his hair, flipped his phone to silent mode and strode through the imposing front doors. A smiling receptionist directed him to one of the private meeting rooms partway down the hall.

Augustus “Gus” Slade was already there, deep in conversation with two other men. When Austin appeared, Gus’s two companions said their goodbyes and exited.

Gus held out his hand. “There you are, boy. Right on the money. Thanks for coming. It’s been a long time.”

“It’s good to see you, sir. Thanks for offering me the job.”

Gus was an imposing figure of a man. He was tall and solidly built with a full head of snow-white hair. Piercing eyes that were blue like the Texas sky reflected a keen intelligence.

By Austin’s calculations, the man was probably sixty-eight or sixty-nine. He could have passed for a decade younger were it not for the leatherlike quality of his skin. He’d spent decades working in the sun long before warnings about skin cancer were the norm.

At a time in life when many men his age began to think about traveling or playing golf or simply taking things easy, Gus still worked his cattle ranch, the Lone Wolf, and wielded his influence in Royal. He had plenty of the latter to go around and had even served a few terms as TCC president. Though the burly rancher loved his family and was well respected by the community at large, most people knew he could be fierce when crossed or angered.

Austin had no plans to do either.

At Gus’s urging, Austin settled into one of a pair of wing-backed chairs situated in front of a large fireplace. The weather in Royal was notably mercurial. Yesterday, it had been in the fifties and raining. Today, the temperature was pushing seventy, and the skies were sunny, so no fire.

Gus took the second chair with a grimace and rubbed his knee. “Got kicked by a damned bull. Should have known better.”

Austin nodded and smiled. “I worked cattle during the summers when I was in college. It was a great job, but I went to bed sore many a night.” He hesitated half a breath and plunged on. “So tell me about this job you want me to do.”

When he had been in Royal before, Gus had wanted him to design and build an addition onto his home. Austin had still been paying for Jenny’s medical bills, and he had needed the money. So he had worked his ass off for six months...or maybe it was seven.

He’d been proud of the job, and Gus had been pleased.

The older man twisted his mouth into a slight grimace. “I may have brought you here under false pretenses. It’s not like last time. This will be a one-and-done project. But as I mentioned on the phone, I think being here at the club for a few weeks will give you the chance to meet some folks in Royal who are movers and shakers. These are the kind of men and women who have contacts. They know people and can make things happen to push work your way.”

Austin wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, it made sense to rebuild his career. It had stalled out when he made the choice to stay home with Jenny during what turned out to be the last months of her life. It was a choice he had never regretted.

Even in the depths of his grief, when he had drifted from town to town and job to job, his skill set and work ethic had made it possible for him to command significant compensation for his quality work.

Did he really want to go back to a more structured way of life?

He honestly didn’t know.

And because he didn’t, he equivocated. “I appreciate that, sir. But how about you tell me the details of this particular project?”

“The club is hoping to do more with the outside space than we have in the past. Professional landscapers are in the process of developing a site plan for the area around the gardens and the pool. What I want from you is a permanent outdoor venue that will serve as the stage for the charity auction and can later be used for weddings, etc. The audience, or the guests, will be out front...under a circus tent if the weather demands it.”

“So open air, but covered.”

“You got it. Plus, we want the stage to have at least two or three rooms behind the scenes with bathrooms and changing areas...you get the idea.”

“And what is this auction exactly?”

Gus chuckled. “It’s a mouthful...the Great Royal Bachelor Auction.” He sobered. “To benefit the Pancreatic Cancer Foundation. That’s what my Sarah died of, you know. My granddaughter Alexis is on the foundation board. I’d like for you to meet her. Your wife has been gone a long time. It’s not good for a man to be alone.”

“I mean no disrespect, sir, but you don’t seem to be taking your own advice. And beyond that, I have no interest at all in a relationship, though I’m sure your granddaughter is delightful.”

Gus scowled at him. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to turn her down. A lot of men would jump at the chance to have my blessing.”

Austin smiled. “If Alexis is anything like her grandfather, I’m guessing she doesn’t appreciate you meddling in her affairs.”

“That’s true enough,” Gus said. “She seems determined to fritter away her time with a man who is all wrong for her.”

They had strayed off topic again, which made Austin realize that Gus was inordinately interested in matchmaking. He sighed. “I’ll need a budget. And the exact specs of the area where I’m allowed to build.”

“Money’s no object,” the older man said. “We want top-of-the-line all the way. And make sure to include some kind of outdoor heating units, concealed if possible. You know how it is in Texas. We might wear shorts on Christmas Day, and it can snow eight hours later.”

“What’s my timetable?” Austin asked.

“The auction is the last Saturday in November.”

Austin tried to conceal his shock. “Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?”

Gus nodded. “I know. It will be tight. But the club’s custodial staff has been given instructions to help you in any way possible, and we’ve also allotted extra funds to hire part-time carpenters to rough in the framing and anything else you need. I have faith in you, boy.”

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

“Call me Gus. I insist.”

After that, they made their way outside so Austin could see exactly what he had to work with. Despite his reservations about the quick turnaround, excitement bubbled up in his chest. This was always one of his favorite phases of a project—looking at a bare plot of ground and imagining the possibilities.

The gardens were soggy, but Austin could see that someone had already begun placing markers and lining off planting areas.

Gus pointed. “Over there is where the stage will be.”

Austin nodded. “I can work with that.”

In the distance, he could see the pool, now closed for the season. The new structure would tie in with the gardens and the rear of the original building to create a peaceful, idyllic setting for entertaining.

To their left, a small figure in stained overalls stood three feet off the ground on a stepladder painting a colorful mural on an outer wall of the club. Gus waved a hand. “Let’s go say hello,” he said.

It was only a matter of fifteen yards. Twenty at the most. They were close enough for Austin to recognize the pale, silky ponytail when it hit him.

The woman turned around as Gus hailed her. The paintbrush in her hand clattered to the ground. Her face turned white. She clutched the top of the ladder.

Austin sucked in a shocked breath. It was her. Brooke. His mystery lover.

Only a clueless fool would have missed the tension, and Gus was no fool. He frowned. “Do you two know each other?”

Austin waited. Ladies first. Brooke stared at him, her eyes curiously blank. “Not at all,” she said politely. “How do you do? I’m Brooke Goodman.”

What the hell? Austin had no choice but to follow her lead. Or else call her a liar. He stuck out his hand. “Austin Bradshaw. Nice to meet you.”

The air crackled with electricity. Brooke didn’t take his hand. She held up both of hers, palms out, to show they were paint streaked. “You’ll have to excuse me. I don’t want to get you dirty.” She shifted her attention to Gus. “If you two don’t mind, I’m trying to get this section finished quickly. They tell me another band of showers is going to move in tonight, so the paint needs to dry.”

And just like that, she turned her back and shut him out.


Four (#u55d1a74b-7e1f-5330-87d9-fec97bea603e)

Brooke felt so ill she was afraid she might pass out right there on the ladder. She stood perfectly still and pretended to paint the same four-inch square of wall until she heard a door open and shut. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the two men disappear inside the building.

What was Austin doing in Royal? Had he come to find her? Surely not. He’d been with Gus Slade. If she put two and two together, maybe Austin was the architect Gus had hired to build the fancy stage and outdoor annex. How did Gus even know Austin?

Who could she ask? Alexis? Then again, did she really want to draw attention to the fact that she was interested in Austin? She wasn’t. Not at all.

Liar.

What made the situation even worse was the expression on Austin’s face when he saw her. He’d been equal parts flabbergasted and horrified. Not the look a woman wanted to see from a man she’d spent the night with.

And see what he’d done to her, damn it...now he had her ending sentences with prepositions.

When the coast was clear, she wiped her brush and gathered her supplies. Ordinarily, she went inside the club to a utility sink and cleaned up before going home. Today, she couldn’t take that chance.

For the rest of the afternoon and all night long, she fretted. She’d spent the last eight weeks trying to forget about her one-night-stand cowboy. Now he had appeared in Royal, completely out of the blue, and looking about ten times as gorgeous and sexy as she remembered. If he really was the new architect, she was going to be forced to see him repeatedly.

Her body thought that was a darned good idea. Heat sizzled through her veins. But her brain was smarter and more sensible. This was a bad development. Really bad.

The following morning, when the sun came up on another beautiful October day, she wanted to pull the covers over her head and not have to think. Still, the memories came rushing back. An intimate hotel room. A rugged cowboy. Two naked bodies. What was she going to do? With yummy Austin in town, there would be hell to pay if her secret came out.

More than ever, she needed to get her own place to live. With the money Alexis was paying her for the murals, there would soon be enough in her modest bank account for first and last month’s rent on a decent apartment. In three and a half years, she would receive her inheritance from her grandmother and thus be able to start her after-school art program. Everybody took dance lessons and played sports—Brooke wanted to build a small studio where dreamy kids like she had been could dabble in clay and paint to their heart’s content.

All she had to do in the meantime was find a permanent job, any job, that would give her financial independence from her parents. That task was tough in a town where the Goodmans pulled strings right and left. Brooke had been unofficially blacklisted time and again.

Her parents’ behind-the-scenes manipulations were humiliating and infuriating. And all because they wanted her to be the kind of high-powered entrepreneurs they were.

It was never going to happen. Brooke liked who she was. It wasn’t that she lacked ambition. She simply saw a different path for herself.

Fortunately, her parents were both early risers and left for the office at the crack of dawn. Brooke was able to enjoy her toast and coffee in peace. Her stomach rebelled at the thought of food this morning, probably because she was so upset about the prospect of seeing Austin again.

What was she supposed to say to him?

Could she simply avoid him altogether?

She was small. Maybe she could hide.

When she couldn’t put it off any longer, she drove into town. Her parents’ Pine Valley mansion had been her childhood home. She’d left it only to go to college and grad school. Now it had become a prison. Her whole family was seriously broken in her estimation. Her brother Jared’s poor fiancée had been forced to run away from her own wedding to escape.

Brooke was still trying to find a way out. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded. But she was at least working on a plan.

When she arrived at the club, she parked one street over and gathered up the canvas totes that contained her supplies. At least she knew what Austin’s truck looked like. So far, she didn’t see it anywhere around. Maybe he was at his hotel doing whatever architects did on their laptops before they started a new job.

Hopefully she could get her murals done before he showed up again. Didn’t a project like this require site prep? Surely an architect wasn’t involved in that phase.

Her heart slugged in her chest. This was exactly why she had gone to another town for her secret fling. She hadn’t wanted to face any ramifications of her indiscretion afterward.

Remembering that night was both mortifying and deeply arousing. What thoughts had gone through his head when he woke up and found her missing? She had second-guessed that decision a thousand times.

In the end, though, it had been the only choice. She and Austin had been strangers passing in the night. Joplin wasn’t home for either of them. It had been the perfect anonymous scenario.

Except now it wasn’t.

To access the gardens, it was first necessary to go through the club. She greeted the receptionist and made her way down the corridor hung with hunting trophies and artifacts. Both of her parents had been members here for years. The building was familiar.

What wasn’t so familiar was the sensation of apprehension and excitement. She told herself she didn’t want to see Austin Bradshaw again. But the lie wasn’t very believable, even in her head.

It was almost anticlimactic to arrive in the gardens and find herself completely alone. The landscaping crew came and went at odd hours. This morning, no one was around to disturb Brooke’s concentration. Up until now, she had enjoyed the time to focus on her creations, to dream and to let her imagination run wild. Today, the solitude felt disconcerting.

Doggedly, she uncapped her paints and planned the section she would work on next. It was a large-scale, multilevel task. Instead of two long gray stucco walls at right angles to one another, Alexis had charged Brooke with creating a whimsical extension of the gardens. When spring came and the flowers bloomed, there would be no delineation between the actual gardens and Brooke’s fantasy world.

The work challenged her creativity and her vision. Not only did she have to paint on a very large canvas, but she had to think in bold, thematic strokes. It was the most ambitious project she had ever tackled, and she was honored that Alexis trusted her to handle the makeover.

When the stage was built, the new landscaping was complete and Brooke’s paintings were finished, the outdoor area would be spectacular. It felt good to be part of something that would provide enjoyment to so many people.

She selected the appropriate brush and tucked it behind her ear. Soon she would need a taller ladder, but for now, she was going to finish the portion she had abandoned yesterday. It was a border of daisies and baby rabbits that repeated along one edge of her mural.

Grabbing the metal frame that held four small paint pots, she climbed up three steps and cocked her head. White first. Then the yellow centers.

“Are you avoiding me, Brooke?”

The voice startled her so badly she flung paint all over herself and a huge section of blank wall and the grass below. “Austin,” she cried.

He took her by the waist, lifted her and set her on the ground. “So you do know who I am.” He smirked. “Yesterday, I wasn’t so sure.”

She scowled at him, trying not to notice the way sunlight picked out strands of gold in his hair without his hat. “What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t tell Gus how we met.”

Austin’s lips quirked in the kind of superior male smile that made her want to smack him. “Most people would have come up with a polite lie.”

“I’m a terrible liar,” she said.

“I’ll have to remember that. It might come in handy.”

The intimate light in his warm brown eyes and the way he looked at her as if he were remembering every nanosecond of their night together made heat curl in her sex. “Why are you here, Austin?”

“I have a job to do. Why are you here, Brooke Goodman?”

“I live in Royal. And I have a job to do as well. So that makes this terribly awkward.”

“Not at all.” He eyed her mural. “This is your work? It’s fabulous. You’re very talented.”

His praise warmed her. Other than Alexis, few people knew what she was capable of doing—at least, few people in Royal. “Thank you,” she said. “I still have a long way to go.”

“Which means I’ll get to watch as I build the stage.”

Her heart stuttered. He didn’t mean anything by that statement...did he? “Austin, I—”

He held up his hand. “You don’t have to say a word. I can see it on your face. You’re afraid I’ll spill your secret. But I won’t, Brooke, I swear. You had your reasons for what happened in Joplin, and so did I.” He cleared his throat, then went on. “The truth is, as much as I like you, we need to leave the past in the past. I’m done with relationships, trust me. And in a town like this, you clearly can’t do anything without the whole world knowing your business.”

He was saying all the right things. Exactly what she needed to hear.

So why did she have a knot in her stomach?

“I should get started,” she said.

“For the record, I was damned disappointed when I woke up and you were gone.”

“You were?” She searched his face.

He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“It was an amazing night for me, but I didn’t have much basis for comparison.”

He chuckled. “Your instincts were spot-on. If I were in the market for a girlfriend and you were five years older, we might give it a go.”

Her temper flared. “Do you have any idea how arrogant you sound? I’m getting very tired of everybody in my life thinking they know what’s best for me.”

“Define everybody.”

Brooke looked over his shoulder and grimaced. “Here comes one now.”

Margaret Goodman was dressed impeccably from head to toe. Though she was well into her fifties, she could easily pass for a much younger woman. Her blond hair, sprinkled with only the slightest gray, received the attention of an expensive stylist every three weeks, and she had both a personal trainer and a dietitian on her payroll.

Brooke’s mother was ambitious, driven and ice-cold. She was also—at the moment—clearly furious. A tiny splotch of red on each cheekbone betrayed her agitation.

“What are you doing here, Mama?” Brooke stepped forward, away from the cowboy architect, hoping to defuse the situation and at the same time possibly avoid any interaction between her mother and Austin.

Her mother lifted her chin. “Are you trying to spite me on purpose? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to know that my only daughter is grubbing around in the gardens of the Texas Cattleman’s Club like a common laborer?”

Brooke straightened her backbone. “Alexis Slade hired me to do a job. That’s what I’m doing.”

“Don’t be naive and ridiculous. This isn’t a job.” Her mother flung a hand toward the partially painted wall in a dramatic gesture. “A child could do this. You’re avoiding your potential, Brooke. Your father and I won’t have it. It was bad enough that you changed your major in college without telling us. We paid for you to get a serious education, not a worthless art degree. Goodmans are businesspeople, Brooke. We make money, we don’t squander it. When will you realize that playing with paint isn’t a valid life choice?”

Her mother was shouting now, her disdain and reproach both vicious and hurtful.

Brooke had heard it all before, but with Austin as a witness, it was even more upsetting. Her eyes stung. “This is a real job, Mama. I’m proud of the work I’m doing. And for the record, I’m planning on moving out of the house, so you and Daddy might as well get used to the idea.”

“Don’t you speak to me in that tone.”

“You don’t listen any other way. I’m twenty-six years old. The boys moved out when they were twenty-one.”

“Don’t bring your brothers into this. They were both far more mature than you at this age. Neither of them gave us any grief.”

Brooke shook her head, incredulous. Her brothers were sycophants and weasels who coasted by on their family connections and their willingness to suck up to Mommy and Daddy. “I won’t discuss this with you right now. You’re embarrassing me.”

For the first time, Margaret looked at Austin. “Who is this?” she demanded, her nose twitching as if sniffing out an impostor in her blue-blooded world.

Before Brooke could stop him, Austin stepped forward, hand outstretched. “I’m Austin Bradshaw, ma’am...the architect Gus Slade hired to build the stage addition for the bachelor auction. I’m pleased to meet you.”

His sun-kissed good looks and blinding smile caught Margaret midtirade. Her mouth opened and shut. “Um...”

Brooke sensed trouble brewing. She took her mother’s arm and tried to steer her toward the building. “You don’t want to get paint on your clothes, Mama, and I really need to get back to work. We’ll discuss this tonight.”

Margaret bristled. “I’m not finished talking to you, young lady. Put this mess away and come home.”

“I won’t,” Brooke said. She felt ill, but she couldn’t let her dislike of confrontation or the fact that they had an audience allow her mother to steamroll her. “I’ve made a commitment, and I intend to honor it.”

Margaret scowled. When Brooke’s mother was on a rant, people scattered. She could be terrifying. “I demand that you come with me this instant.”

Brooke swallowed hard as bile rose in her throat. She wasn’t wearing a hat, so the sun beat down on her head. Little yellow spots danced in front of her eyes, and her knees wobbled.

This was a nightmare.

But then, to her complete and utter shock, Austin intervened. He literally inserted himself between Brooke and her mother, shielding Brooke with his body. “You’re out of line, Mrs. Goodman. Your daughter is a grown woman. She’s a gifted artist, and she’s being paid to use that talent for the good of the community. I won’t have you bullying her.”

“Who the hell are you to talk to me that way?” Margaret shrieked. “I’ll have you fired on the spot. Wait until Gus Slade hears about this. You’ll never work in this town again.”

The whole thing might have been funny if it wasn’t so miserably tragic. Brooke’s mother was used to getting her way with threats and intimidation. Her face was ugly beneath her makeup.

Austin simply ignored her bluster. “I’d like you to leave now,” he said politely. “Brooke and I both have work to do for the club, and you are delaying our progress.”

Margaret raised her fist...she actually raised her fist.

Austin stared at her.

To Brooke’s amazement, her mother backed down. She dropped her arm, turned on her heel and simply walked away.

“Oh my God, you’ve done it now.” Brooke felt her legs crumpling.

Austin whirled and caught her around the waist, supporting her as she went down. She didn’t faint, but she sat down hard on the grass and put her head on her knees. “She’s going to make your life a living hell.”

“Sounds like you know something about that.” He crouched beside her and stroked her back, his presence a quiet, steady comfort after the ugly scene.

“I appreciate your standing up for me, but you shouldn’t have done it. She doesn’t make idle threats. She’ll try to get you fired.”

“I’ve dealt with bullies before. But I confess that I’ve never had to deal with it in my own home. I’m sorry, Brooke.”

She wiped her eyes and sniffled, too upset to be embarrassed anymore. “I’ve applied for six different jobs here in Royal since I finished school, and in every instance I got some flimsy excuse about why I wasn’t qualified. The first couple of times I wrote it off to the fact that I was straight out of college and grad school and had no experience, but then I got turned down for a waitressing gig at a place where one of my friends worked. I knew she had put in a good word for me.” She released a quavering breath. “So I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong...how I had interviewed so poorly that they didn’t want me.”

“Did you ever find out what happened?” he prodded gently.

“Yes. I couldn’t let it go, so I screwed up my courage and went back to the restaurant and talked to the manager. He admitted that my mother had called him and threatened him.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Austin’s vehement shock summed up Brooke’s reaction in a nutshell. “Yep. Who does that to their own kid?”

“What exactly is it that she wants you to do?”

“Daddy would be happy if I went to law school and joined him in his firm. Mama is Maverick County royalty. Her family owns one of the richest ranches in Texas. I’m supposed to play the part of the wealthy socialite. Wear the right clothes. Hang out with the right people. Marry the right man.”

He grimaced. “Sounds wretched.”

“You have no idea. And my mother is relentless. I have an inheritance coming to me from my grandmother’s estate when I turn thirty. All that’s necessary for me to get my money sooner is to be married or to have my parents’ permission. But my mother has convinced my father not to let that happen.” She lifted her chin. “So I’ve decided I’ll do whatever it takes to get out from under their roof. This job is the first step toward my liberation. Alexis isn’t afraid of my mother. This is real employment with a real paycheck.”

“But it won’t last long, surely.”

“No. The garden part will only take a few weeks. After that, Alexis wants me to do the walls in the childcare center. I’m saving every penny so I can rent an apartment.”

He put the back of his hand to her cheek and gazed down at her in concern. “You don’t look good, honey. Maybe you should go home.”

Brooke struggled to her feet. “Absolutely not. I won’t let Alexis down.”

He sighed. “When do you quit for the day?”

“Around four.”

“How about afterward we grab some food and take a picnic out in the country...find a quiet place where we can talk?”

“What if someone sees us and asks questions?”

His grin was remarkably carefree for a man who had recently tangled with the Goodman matriarch. “Let’s live dangerously.”


Five (#u55d1a74b-7e1f-5330-87d9-fec97bea603e)

Gus peered through the French doors and frowned when he spotted Brooke Goodman getting chummy with Austin Bradshaw. He’d have to nip that in the bud. Austin was on his radar as the perfect match for Alexis, even if neither of them knew it yet.

Impulsively, he strode out to the parking lot and climbed into his truck. There was one person who shared his goals, one woman who would understand his frustration. He drove out to Rose Clayton’s Silver C Ranch feeling more than a little regret for all the years of bitterness and recrimination that lay between him and Rose. She had hurt him badly when he was a young man. Betrayed him. Broken his heart.

Still, five decades was a long time to carry a grudge.

The only reason they were speaking now was because they were both determined to keep their grandchildren from hooking up. Wasn’t that what the kids called it these days?

Hell would freeze over before Gus Slade would let his beloved granddaughter Alexis marry a Clayton.

Rose answered the door almost immediately after his knock. She had aged well, her frame slim and regal. Chin-length brown hair showed only a touch of gray at the temples. Her gaze was wary. “Gus. Won’t you come in?”

He followed her back to the kitchen. “I found a good prospect for Alexis,” he said.

Rose waved him to a chair and poured him a cup of coffee. “Do tell.”

“His name is Austin Bradshaw. Architect. Widower. Did some work for me a few years back...a handsome lad.”

“And what does Alexis think?”

Rose’s knowing smile irritated him. “She doesn’t know my plans for the two of them yet, but she will. I need some time, that’s all. As long as you keep Daniel occupied, we’ll be fine.”

“You can rest easy on that score. I’m sure there will be any number of eligible women bidding on him at the bachelor auction.”

Gus drained his cup and leaned his chair back on two legs. “Did Daniel actually agree to the auction thing? It doesn’t sound like his cup of tea.”

Rose’s face fell. “Well, I had to coax him. I did point out that he and Tessa Noble would make a lovely couple, if she bids on him.”

“I agree. Makes perfect sense.”

“Unfortunately, Daniel gets quite frustrated with me when I try to give him advice about his love life. He has come very close to telling me to stay out of his business. Imagine that. His own grandmother.”

Gus snorted. “The world would run a lot more smoothly if young people did what their elders told them to.”

Rose went white, her expression agitated. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Her demeanor shocked him. “What did I say, Rose?” The change in her was dramatic. He felt guilty and didn’t know why.

“I’d like you to leave now. Please.”

Her startling about-face stunned him. He thought they had worked through some of their issues. After all, she had wronged him, not the other way around. Was she implying somehow that she had been manipulated by her father? Gus had worked for Jedediah Clayton. To a sixteen-year-old kid, the ranch owner had been both vengeful and terrifying. Yet that hadn’t stopped Gus from falling in love with the boss’s daughter.

Gus had finally made the decision to leave the Clayton ranch. He’d spent four years on the rodeo circuit, saving every dime. Then he’d returned to Royal, bought a small parcel of land and gone back to claim the woman he loved.

His world had come crashing down when he discovered his childhood sweetheart had married another man. Even worse was Rose’s crushing rejection of the love they had once shared. The long-ago heartache was still vivid to him.

He had married her best friend.

But now he was confused.

“Go,” she cried, tears gleaming in her eyes.

He caught her hands in his and held them tightly, even when she tried to yank away. “Did your father do something to you, Rosie?” His heart sank.

Her lower lip trembled. Suddenly, she looked every one of her sixty-seven years. “None of you cared,” she whispered. “I was a prisoner, and you and Sarah never saw through my facade.”

“I don’t understand.” His chest hurt. He couldn’t breathe.

“He threatened me. My mother was desperately ill. He was going to let her die if I married you, refuse to pay for her treatments. So I had no choice. I had to pretend. I had to choose my mother’s life over my happiness. I had to marry another man.”

“My God.”

Rose stared at him, her eyes filled with something close to hatred and loathing. Or maybe it was simply grief. “Go, Augustus. We’ll continue our plan to keep Daniel and Alexis apart. But please don’t come to my house again.”

* * *

Somehow Brooke managed to work on her mural hour after hour without passing out or giving up, but it wasn’t easy. The episode with her mother had upset her deeply. She felt wretched. Even now, her legs trembled and her stomach roiled. Her life was a damned soap opera. Why couldn’t her family be normal and boring?

She paused in the middle of the day to eat the peanut butter sandwich she had packed for her lunch. The club had a perfectly wonderful restaurant, but dining there would have meant changing out of her paint-stained clothes, and Brooke simply didn’t have it in her today. So she sat on the ground with her back to the wall and ate her sandwich in the shade.

She half hoped Austin would show up to keep her company. But clearly, he was very busy with the new project. She saw him at a distance a time or two. That was all.

On the one hand, it was good that he didn’t hover. She would have hated that. She was a grown woman. Still, she’d be lying if she didn’t say she was looking forward to their picnic.

By the time she finished a section at three thirty and cleaned her brushes, she was wiped out. Today’s temperature had been ten degrees above normal for mid-October. It was no wonder she was dragging. And she had forgotten to wear sunscreen. So she would probably have a pink nose by the end of the day.

She stashed her supplies in her car, changed out of her work clothes into a cute top and jeans, and went in search of Austin. Her palms were damp and her heart beat faster than normal. The last time the two of them had spent any amount of time together, they’d been naked.

Despite that anomaly, they really were little more than strangers. Perhaps if she treated this picnic as a first date, she could pretend that she hadn’t propositioned him in a bar and made wild, passionate love to the handsome cowboy.





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