Texas Bossa Nova (Texas Montgomery Mavericks Book 5)

by Cynthia D'Alba

  After sliding her feet into a pair of scuffs, she headed for the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She’d make a list of things she still needed to do and supplies she needed to buy while she got her morning caffeine fix. As the coffee dripped, she turned the oven on to preheat and started bacon frying in a large skillet.

  She stole the first cup of java before the pot finished filling. Her eyebrows shot up with the first sip. Stout, to say the least. She added a little water to the coffee maker’s reservoir then cracked open a can of biscuits. When the preheat bell chimed, she slid a cookie sheet loaded with biscuit dough into the hot oven.

  She flipped the bacon and then sat at the table with a notepad and pencil. Other than the sizzle from the bacon and the slight tick of the coffee maker, the peace was comfortable. Leaning back in the high-backed kitchen chair, she stretched out her legs and took a long sip of black coffee.

  Across the table and directly in front of her, the door to the back bedroom banged open and a half-dressed man ran out, a tennis racket raised high above his head, all while he yelled, “What the hell are you doing in this house?”

  Paige jumped from her chair, sending it over backwards. She spat the coffee in her mouth across the table while at the same time tossing the mug of hot liquid at her attacker. The man leapt to the side, avoiding most of the scalding java.

  “What are you doing here?” she gasped out, barely able to catch her breath from the sudden adrenaline jolt, not to mention the masculine sight standing in front of her. Her heart grabbed her ribs and rattled. She struggled to focus as her mind refused to accept what she was seeing.

  Cash Montgomery wore only a pair of white boxer briefs. Angry long scars crisscrossed his chest, abdomen and arms. But even those couldn’t diminish the impact of his naked, chiseled six-pack. Paige swallowed hard against the rising lust.

  “I live here,” he answered, lowering his impromptu weapon to his side. Confusion covered his face and his brow furrowed. “Paige? Paige Ryan?”

  She nodded. “That’d be me.”

  His gaze roved down her body and back up to her face. “Why are you in my house? And why don’t you have on clothes? Not that I’m complaining, mind you.” A wolfish grin spread across his mouth. “Nice T-shirt slogan.”

  Paige looked down and felt the flush of embarrassment as it climbed her neck and face. Both nipples protruded through the thin material far enough to be used as hat pegs. Her gaze flew back to him. “I’ll be right back.”

  She hurried from the kitchen, tugging down the hem of her T-shirt over her purple panties. She could barely think about the need for a robe when her mind swirled like a blender, mixing her thoughts and emotions like a smoothie.

  What was Cash Montgomery doing in her house?

  And more importantly, why was she kind of excited to see him? The man had practically ruined her life. Well, maybe not ruined as much as shoved her onto a new life path. Still, he’d let her fall in love with him, taken her virginity and then treated her like she had meant nothing to him. He’d broken her heart and hadn’t seemed to care one whit.

  Of course, she’d felt sorry for him passed out in the bar, just like she’d feel sympathy for any injured animal. And of course, she’d been crushed when she’d heard about his accident, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be in close proximity to him.

  Cash Montgomery was a dangerous man. Dangerous to her positive self-esteem, which she needed to prosper in the intensive graduate nursing program she’d be starting in three months. Dangerous to her plans to stay focused only on her career for now. And dangerous to her self-preservation, as her heart tended to overrule her mind when it came to Cash. Nothing good could come of him being here.

  She’d thought she would be able to handle seeing him, but she’d possibly misjudged. He had to go before any decisions were made by her heart and not her head.

  After grabbing her chenille robe off the bathroom door, she stood in her bedroom collecting herself before walking calmly back to the kitchen. The coffee spewed and thrown at him had been cleaned up. Her overturned chair was back upright and in its place. Cash had put on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt that stretched to cover his broad shoulders. She’d been wrong when she’d thought he’d looked emaciated the other night. Must have been positional, because every movement had another muscle popping out somewhere new on his body.

  He sat at the table, his legs stretched out in front of him, his bare feet crossed at the ankles. He nursed a cup of black coffee like it was any morning in any town, USA. She clutched both sides of her robe, pulling them together like a virginal prude.

  A battle raged in her mind.

  Don’t pull that robe together like you’ve never been with a man before. You’re being ridiculous. He’s seen everything you’ve got.

  True, the opposition retorted, but he was pretty drunk that night and seven years have passed since then. And he took your heart and stomped on it with his size-fourteen cowboy boots.

  “Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?” Cash asked with a lift of an eyebrow.

  Paige whipped around to get another mug from the cabinet. After pouring her second cup of the day, she sat down.

  “Let’s get one thing straight,” she said, sounding all the world like a school teacher reprimanding a student. “This is my house. Caroline rented it to me on Monday.”

  “Travis told me I could stay here for a while.”

  “Well, this isn’t going to work at all,” she said in a stiff voice that would have made a nun proud. “You’ll have to make other arrangements.”

  He sat his cup on the table and leaned toward her. If he meant to intimidate her, it wasn’t going to work. She held her position and returned his stare with one she hoped conveyed her determination to stay put in this house.

  “You’ll have to make other arrangements,” he said. “My brother owns this house and he gave it to me to live in as long as I want.”

  Her heart dropped into her gut. The boa-constrictor-like squeeze around her chest pulled tight. Drawing in air was an effort, as was forming coherent sentences in his presence.

  “Sorry, cowboy. I’m here to stay. You’re the one who has to go,” she finally managed to squeak out. “You have family you could stay with until you buy yourself somewhere else to live. Use some of that butt load of money you made riding those damn bulls to get your own place instead of trying to steal mine.”

  “Steal? Yours?” He gave her a derisive snort. Using his cup, he pointed around the room. “This house doesn’t belong to you. It’s Montgomery property.”

  Shoving her chair back with a loud scrape on the hardwood, she stood. “I’m going to get dressed and run some errands. When I get back, I expect you to be gone. And you can rest assured that I’ll be calling Caroline today.” She turned and marched out of the room.

  “One of your errands should be finding another place to live,” he shouted at her back. “I’m not leaving. And don’t call Caroline. She had twins early yesterday morning. Don’t bother them today.”

  Paige leaned against her closed bedroom door, her hand pressed to her chest, her heart in a runaway gallop. Crap. Surely one phone call to Caroline or Travis would clear this mess up. But that wasn’t going to happen. How could she dump her Cash problem on Caroline with her still in the hospital after delivery…at least she assumed Caroline was still there. Today it seemed like new mothers and babies were punted out the door fairly quickly.

  Then Cash’s words registered. Caroline had delivered twins.

  She stepped away from the door and began sliding hangers in the closet. She was going baby-clothes shopping.

  Their wedding might be fake, but there’s no faking the mutual attraction.

  Texas Tango

  © 2013 Cynthia D’Alba

  Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 2

  Dr. Caroline Graham is happy with
her nomadic lifestyle fulfilling short-term medical contracts. No emotional commitments, no disappointments. She’s always the one to walk away, never the one left behind.

  But now her great-uncle is gone and her grandmother is on her deathbed, more concerned about Caroline’s lack of a husband than her own demise. What’s the harm in a little white lie? If a wedding will give her grandmother peace, then a wedding she shall have.

  Travis Montgomery has one dream left—to build the ranch he and his wife planned before he lost her to cancer. There’s just one thing standing between him and last bit of acreage he needs—a last living heir who has one traveling foot out the door…and an unusual request that challenges his determination to never again place his heart at risk.

  The land he wants in exchange for a faux marriage. Everyone wins. Until things start to snowball…and the hearts they stand to lose are their own.

  Warning: This book contains a tortured widower who doesn’t want a wife and an independent doctor who doesn’t want a husband. Hot stuff between the sheets and failed efforts to avoid emotional involvements.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Texas Tango:

  If she kissed him right now, would he be shocked? Back away? Return the kiss?

  A bead of sweat rolled down his throat. She ached to lick it, taste his saltiness, draw his flavor onto her tongue. Her tongue flattened against the roof of her mouth. Her mouth opened. But he didn’t give her the chance to kiss or taste him.

  Forearms thick with muscle and sinew wrapped around her legs, swept her up and carried her over to the soft blanket holding their lunch. He knelt, letting her legs slide onto the ground.

  “I am so embarrassed.” She dropped her head against his shoulder, not wanting to look into his eyes.

  “Why? I’m the one who should have his ass kicked. I should have remembered what a first horseback ride can do to legs.” Putting two fingers under her chin, he lifted her head until their gazes met. He shook his head, looking disgusted. “I’m sorry, Caroline. Feel free to call me a few choice names. Dunderhead. Idiot. Whatever.”

  She stared into his steel-blue eyes, her breathing coming in deep draws. For a minute, neither of them moved, and then she placed her hand on his face. “Here are my choice names for you. Wonderful. Thoughtful. Caring. Do those work?” She smiled, ready to move on. He didn’t need to know any more about what she really thought about him. She dropped her hand from his face and made a point of looking around the picnic area. “This setting for lunch is perfect. I’m glad we rode over. I can’t believe how much of Uncle Angus’s ranch I’ve gotten to see today. It’s beautiful. I can see why you wanted it.”

  He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, leaving a kiss in the palm. For what seemed like eternity, they stared into each other’s eyes, neither making the move to come closer nor to move away. His warm breath blew on her face. With each inhale, she breathed in his scent, a mixture of woodsy cologne, leather and something that was just Travis. She’d made up her mind to kiss him just as her stomach took that exact moment to rumble loudly. He smiled, leaned over and gave her a quick kiss.

  “Sounds like you could use lunch.”

  She dropped her face into her hands and shook her head, laughing away her sexual frustration. Travis moved away far enough to get a hand on the basket handle and dragged it over.

  “Let’s see what goodies we have in here.”

  Strapped on the inside of the lid were two plates, knives and forks and two red-and-white plaid napkins.

  “I’ll get the food out,” Caroline said. “See what we’ve got to drink.”

  Travis stood and retrieved the cooler. Looking inside he said, “Looks like ice tea, water and some Cokes.” He grinned. “And I do believe there is a container of potato salad. You are going to love Henree’s potato salad.”

  Caroline was pulling a container of hot biscuits out of the basket to set alongside the fried-chicken strips. “This all smells heavenly.” She drew in a deep breath. “And I’m starved.”

  They loaded their own plates, grabbed bottles of water and settled in to eat. For the first few bites, Caroline couldn’t help but moan. Travis had been right. Henree was a wonderful cook.

  “So, Travis,” Caroline said, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “Tell me about growing up here. Your family seems so close.”

  He nodded and then washed the large bite of chicken and biscuit down with half the bottle of water. “We are. You know everybody except my brother, Cash, right? The one who’s on the PBR tour?”

  “Never got a chance to meet him. Is Cash his real name?”

  “No. A nickname, and Mom hates it.” He grinned. “Everybody thinks he got that name from all the rodeo winnings, but that’s not it at all. When we were growing up, there wasn’t a dare Cash wouldn’t take, as long as there was money involved.” He laughed. “He got pretty fast evading bulls, rolling unmanned tractors, you name it.”

  Travis continued on with his stories as Caroline set her empty plate off the blanket on the grass and lay on her side, her head propped in her hand. She watched his luscious lips move as he talked. Watched his Adam’s apple slide up and down with each pull on his water. Enjoyed ogling the muscles in his arms as they bunched and flexed and showcased their beauty with each movement. As she watched him talk and gesture and laugh, her insides tumbled like clothes in a dryer…jumbled and hot. He was pure raw male, and the female inside her roared her approval.

  Above, birds sang and flew from tree to tree. The sun painted muted stripes on the blanket and across Travis’s lap. With each breath, she drew in both the earthy scent of the grass beneath them mixed with Travis’s masculine aroma. The combination hit her like a powerful aphrodisiac. She licked her lips and tried to slow her runaway heart.

  This wasn’t real life, she cautioned. This was a temporary arrangement known only to her and him. He was being a class act, a real friend today. Don’t do anything that could put a roadblock on that friendship.

  Satisfied she’d talked herself down off the I-am-going-to-jump-him ledge, she drew in a deep breath and sighed in total contentment.

  Travis set his plate inside the basket and then lowered himself onto his side, lying face-to-face with Caroline. The end of his lips lifted into a smile as he brushed a few wayward strands of hair off her face. The roughness of his fingers ignited the nerve endings in her skin, reviving all those emotions she’d just squashed. She pressed against his hand and allowed her eyes to drift shut. She wanted to experience his touch without any visual distractions. Wanted to lock this feeling into her memories.

  His scent grew stronger seconds before his full lips touched hers. She angled her head, wanting to get as much lip-to-lip flesh touching as possible. He wrapped his hand around her head and held her as he plunged his tongue through her open lips. She gave him full access to her mouth, welcoming his tongue’s touch in every nook and cranny. Powerful electrical surges flashed through her body. The area between her thighs grew hot and damp.

  He pulled away and she opened her eyes. His steel-blue eyes were dark with desire. His breaths came in jagged pants. Reaching out, she put her hand behind his head and pulled him back to her for another kiss. This time she took control, probing and tasting, licking his tongue, his teeth…allowed her tongue to convey her message. She wanted him.

  Apparently message received, Travis scooted across the blanket and lowered Caroline onto her back. He moved his hand to her waist and squeezed. The heat from his palm burned through her shirt as he slid it from her waist to the curve of her breast. He fondled her flesh as a shudder wracked her body. Caroline slid her tongue in and out of his mouth, trying to say without words what she wanted…needed.

  She draped her leg over his hard-as-a-tree-trunk thigh and tried to press her aching center to his body…anywhere. But he took control, moving between her legs, pressing the hard erection behind his zipper against her center. She mo
ved to press back, moaned deep in her throat.

  He found the tail of her shirt, slipped his hand under and touched her skin, igniting flash fires with each stroke of his fingers. Surely she would burst into flames.

  Then he was gone. Rolled away and onto his back.

  Stunned and embarrassed at her own guttural reactions to his attentions, she stared up into the sky.

  “Caroline…”

  “Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

  “Okay. I won’t. But that wasn’t what I was going to say.”

  She rolled onto her side and propped up her head. “What then?”

  He turned his head to look at her and then turned away. “I was going to say I was too old for sex on hard ground.” He looked at her and grinned. “I was going to suggest a soft bed instead.”

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

  Cincinnati OH 45249

  Texas Bossa Nova

  Copyright © 2015 by Cynthia D’Alba

  ISBN: 978-1-61922-667-8

  Edited by Heidi Moore

  Cover by Valerie Tibbs

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: March 2015