Bronco's Rough Ride (Bad Boys of Beta Squad, 0.5)
Page 15
Bethany had never run from anything in her life. Not that she’d get far. A sitting Senator’s prize daughter didn’t just disappear. He’d have the Alphabet Agencies after her faster than anyone could spell FBI. I guess it helps that he’s on several of those secret government committees.
Bethany stopped in the center of the site on a slightly raised hexagonal stone and dropped her gaze to her feet, trying to find a way out. I’m too young to get married. She grimaced at the memory of her grandmother telling her no good girl waited until she’d become a spinster. Thirty isn’t spinsterhood. Besides, her father’s choices of men tended to be those who’d benefit him, not her. She wanted to find a man who loved her for her, not her father’s money or status. A sexy rancher out west somewhere who understood horses. Bethany sighed. Yeah, not if dear old dad has anything to say about it.
The stone beneath her feet glowed softly in the fading evening light and Bethany frowned, crouching to get a better look. Swirls of sparkles, like faerie dust, puffed out of the central stone, filling the air with flashing illumination. Bethany jerked her head up as the glittering light coalesced and flowed along grooved lines on the floor from each corner of the dig, engulfing her in its radiance.
What the—
The wind kicked up, whirling the brilliance around her like a cyclone. Bethany dropped to her butt and threw her hands over her eyes, ducking her head. The rush of air stole her breath and dried her throat, raising to a screaming pitch. A whinny hit her ears and she remembered Killian tied outside the circle.
Oh, God, Killian. She tried to open her eyes and crawl for the edge of the site, but the air currents buffeted her, holding her in the center. Dust and glitter clogged her nose and she coughed around the scents of horse, fresh cut grass, and…Honeysuckle?
Blowing dirt whirled in a choking dance just beyond her toes and she hunkered down, coughing harder. She hoped Killian survived the strange dust storm as she covered her nose and mouth with the tails of her shirt. The wind howled around her, flinging stinging particles against her skin.
Bethany shook her head, rubbing the sight back into her bedazzled eyes. Wracking coughs rattled her chest from all the swirling debris in the air. Voices, some chanting, some—whinnying?—rose in a crescendo and her hacking added a treble beat to the cacophony.
Then something popped and the wind died down. Bethany’s coughs slowed and she prayed she’d be able to breathe clean air soon. Her eyes watered with all the dust, but she raised her head and scrubbed her face, hoping to clear her vision.
The archaeological site sparkled around her like the dying remnants of a fireworks display. Through the foggy air and flickering lights, she caught movement. Several large bodies shifted fluidly, as if she’d encountered an entire herd of wild horses. The chanting had changed into shouts of surprise and anger.
Aw hell, that sounds serious.
Squinting against the dust, turned her head around her, searching for a place to hide. Where had all the horses come from? Had her father actually sent the cavalry after her? To hell with that. Bethany crawled toward the maple where she’d left Killian, hoping the dirt and dust would obscure her identity. If she could get to her horse, she’d blend in with the others and no one would notice her riding away.
Protecting her eyes from flying debris, she scanned the sky looking for the spreading branches of the maple above the cloudy air. She scrambled the last few feet, searching for the only horse legs not moving. She’d almost reached the edge of the site when a pair of striped hooves stopped in front of her.
Bethany froze and looked up, way, way up, into the scowling face of a fierce man. Wait, how’d she miss the horse’s head? The butt of a spear hit the ground before her hands and she jerked back, falling to her ass again. So much for being a lady. Her mother would've been appalled.
The dust cleared a little more and she got a good look at the man mounted before her. Except he wasn’t mounted. The horse’s shoulders and chest sprouted from where his human legs should be, and the spot where his man parts should hang…
“Oh lordy, I don’t think I’m in Kentucky anymore.”
Table of Contents
BRONCO’S ROUGH RIDE
Copyright
DEDICATION
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
About Siobhan Muir
Other Books by Siobhan Muir
Excerpt 1
Excerpt 2