The Cowboy's Virgin Princess (Foxworth Stud Ranch Book 3)

by Mia Madison

  The Cowboy’s Virgin Princess

  A Steamy Rough Older Man Romance

  by

  Mia Madison

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the rights of the author.

  Copyright © 2017 Mia Madison. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

  Version 2017.5.31

  Mailing list sign up is here

  https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/x2t4y4

  The Cowboy’s Virgin Princess

  Chapter One

  Rafe

  “Gonna get real busy around here in the next few weeks,” Shea tells me as we brush down our horses in side by side stalls after a long day in the saddle, the way we both prefer a day to go.

  Or we did before our world was turned over by Shea taking in a girl, permanently. We aren’t a bunch of dudes together now, hanging round the fire with a cold one at the end of the day. He has to spend all his free time with the woman.

  “I guess,” I grunt out the side of my mouth, around the sides of the stalk I’m cogitating on.

  I’m not giving anything much of my feeling away to the senior ranch hand and the closest thing I have to a friend. Our life has been infiltrated by the needs of one girl constantly wanting her man at her side, constantly interrupting the day with needing this or that fixed or just missing him, ‘so much I had to come get a hug and a kiss to get me through the day ‘til you come home’.

  “And Rafe, it looks so corny to be chewing on a blade of corn,” she throws back over her shoulder as she skips out of the stables.

  I could come back with a cocky response but I just grunt and say a silent thanks to my spurs that I’m not bedeviled with one of these demanding girls on my case 24/7 like Shea.

  “You’re next, Rafe,” Dallyce had hissed at me one night after she infiltrated our fireside chill-out to climb all over Shea’s lap and heard me stating my case for independence.

  She was cooing and stroking her little fingers over Shea’s huge chest before finally whispering something in his ear that made his face stretch in a wide grin as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder to carry her back to his house.

  “Not me,” I called out after them. “I’m too much of a wild steed to ever be tamed.”

  “Your time will come,” she squealed at me in response from her position dangling head first down Shea’s huge back.

  Always got to have the last word, that’s Dallyce. I don’t know how Shea puts up with it. I hope he keeps her tamed behind closed doors because she’s sure got a mouth on her.

  “We got company coming,” he tells me now, like he wants to keep the conversation going despite my reticence.

  “For your wedding you mean?”

  “No, well yes, but I meant, to stay at Foxworth. In relation to these new side businesses Jock started.”

  “You mean that Chloe started,” I say.

  Jock Foxworth’s daughter went away to some fancy equestrian school in Europe and came back a business mogul. Presumably after hanging out around all the other rich kids, the sons and daughters of Arabian Sheikhs and European Princes.

  Not only are cowboys beneath her now, but she convinced her daddy to start putting our best horses out to stud. Then she added another sideline with this weird horse whisperer therapy retreat she developed, pulling Dallyce in as her assistant. “Least it keeps your girl busy, outta your hair,” I add.

  “Honestly, there’s nothing better than having Dallyce in my hair and wrapped around the rest of me,” he says, with that big grin of his that always gets the ladies weakening, or used to. “I can’t imagine life without her now.”

  “Humph,” I grunt. Not convinced for one second.

  “What’s gotten under your skin?” Shea asks in his level, nothing-gonna-rattle-me voice.

  “Nothin’,”

  “Come on over and grab a beer. I’ll get Dallyce to rustle us up a steak.”

  I’m about to say I’m good, I’ve got jerky at my place but my stomach starts rumbling at the thought of a home-cooked slice of beef. So I finish looping my rope, hang it on the nail and follow Shea out of the stables, kicking up grit as I go.

  But when we get to his house, that all us guys on the ranch helped him build back when we were one band, Dallyce isn’t there.

  “Goddamn,” Shea bristles as he reads the note she’s left on the table.

  “What is it?”

  “She’s gone into town.”

  “And?”

  “She shouldn’t go out alone, not without telling me.”

  “She’s telling you right there.” I jerk my hat toward the note. “She’s a big girl, Shea.”

  I never would have thought this big old cowboy could get so possessive over one little girl.

  “She’s my girl and I don’t like her going out alone. Not since that mobster from the city was here threatening all kinds of shit to Edie.”

  “He hasn’t been seen in months. If Quint took care of him, he’s probably wrapped in iron at the bottom of the lake.”

  “We never really found out what happened to that guy though,” Shea says. “You really think Quint could have finished him?”

  “You know Quint as well as anyone. He’s a dark horse but where Edie’s concerned, I reckon he’s capable of anything to protect her.”

  Another one of the guys that succumbed to a woman’s charm completely unexpectedly. Even more than Shea, I never imagined Quint getting together with a woman and giving himself to her so totally. “There must be something in the Foxworth well water, making guys get a little crazy.” I shake my head in mock despair.

  That gets a smile out of Shea and he relaxes a little. He grabs a couple of beers from the fridge and we head out to the porch, kicking back in the pair of rocking chairs placed there. They now have a couple of flowery lace-edged pillows in the seat, yet another touch of the feminine I never thought I’d see around here.

  “You all set to get hitched next month, Cowboy?” I ask, tearing back the bottle top against the heel of my boot and taking a long relieving draft of the cold beer then letting out a satisfied belch. Can’t do that with women around.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be. That fancy stuff is for my woman. I’m as committed as I could be without the need of a preacher. But it makes her happy and that’s what counts.”

  “Long as you got what you need.”

  “I do. I just never knew it. You should try it.”

  “No chance. I’m safe out here, there aren’t any women here long enough to stick their hooks in me.”

  “Don’t you ever get lonely?”

  “Not now Chloe started her spa thing,” I say with a filthy grin.

  Some of the women coming down here from the big cities with their big city stresses, for a weekend of horse therapy are more than up for a little cowboy therapy on the side.

  “You’re a dog, Rafe. Aren’t you ever gonna grow up?”

  “Hey, I never approached anyone but if a city girl comes to me looking for some hard loving in the arms of a rough working man, I’m h
appy to oblige.”

  “Chloe will be livid if she ever finds out.”

  “So don't tell her and don't tell your girl. They’ve all gone away satisfied and Chloe's business has doubled thanks to the glowing reviews she’s been getting about great service and therapeutic relief.”

  Shea laughs out loud and downs the remaining liquid in the bottle. It’s just like old times between us.

  “You came close to getting caught with – what was her name – from Los Angeles?”

  “Veronika – although I think that wasn't her real name. Nothing was real about her.”

  Shea laughs again and goes inside to retrieve another pair of beers. When I hear him talking to someone on the phone, I put my feet up on the porch railing and pull my hat down on my forehead, ready to take a snooze right here in the setting sun, it’s so comfortable.

  I must have dropped off for a couple seconds because I come around to the sound of girly voices chattering close to me.

  “You shoulda told me where you were going, Baby.” It’s Shea’s voice admonishing Dallyce for disappearing. He really is turning into an old mother hen.

  “I couldn’t find you out on the range and I could hardly leave Modesty standing around at the bus station.”

  I push my hat up above my eyes and see a vision backlit by a ball of deep orange sun.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she half whimpers in a voice so kittenish, rock hard wood instantly tightens my denim.

  Chapter TWO

  Modesty

  “Geez,” he says, rubbing his stubbled chin with his huge hand, “I must have dozed off longer than I thought if the rodeo’s already back in town.”

  He gives me that look I remember so well. The one that makes my toes scrunch tight in my shoes, trying to grip the ground, so I don’t topple over or fall helpless to my knees.

  “Don’t be silly, Rafe,” Dallyce steps in, just like she always used to. Always protecting me, putting herself between her innocent friend and any man that tries to gain the time of day with her. “Modesty’s come to help me with my wedding plans.”

  “The wedding’s not for another five weeks, Baby,” Shea gruffs out.

  Immediately I feel like an intruder. Like I shouldn’t have come and imposed myself on Dallyce for so long. We were friendly while we were both touring the continent as rodeo princesses but it wasn't as though we kept in touch like besties once it was over. I was already at the bus station when I called her and I could hear the surprise in her voice when she picked up the phone.

  “What’s going on, Modesty?” she said.

  “Can I tell you when I see you?” I pleaded, trying not to let my voice crack. “I really need a friend right now and I didn’t know where else to go.”

  Now Dallyce makes eyes at her fiance, like we aren’t all sitting here watching. Those eyes that say, hush up and don’t make a scene. Eyes that say, I’ll speak to you later. Shea shrugs, good-natured as ever and hands his cowboy buddy a beer. I will never forget the moment I saw him stark naked in the hallway of the huge ranch house when we arrived to stay for the rodeo. I let out a childish squeal at the sight of the huge stick dangling between his thighs but Dallyce just laughed and stared at it like she was trying not to lick her lips. I guess that’s why they hit it off instantly and are now engaged.

  It’s easy to tell they’re completely enamored with each other. With his free arm Shea tugs his bride-to-be hard against his chest. She laughs and wraps her arms around his neck and he lifts her easily in the crook of his one arm and kicks back on the door with the heel of his boot. He pulls her into the house, letting the screen bang shut and leaving me staring at the cockiest, most arrogant, foul-mouthed man I’ve ever met.

  “Beer?” He asks, stretching his arm out lazily to hand me his bottle.

  “I’m not really supposed to,” I say then realize how dumb I must sound to a man like Rafe who makes his own rules.

  “Don’t remember that bothering you when I found you at McDools.”

  “I only went to the bar that night to accompany Dallyce and anyway I was drinking a soda, remember?”

  Shit, I hear the words coming out of my mouth a moment after they emerge and even I cannot believe how ridiculous I sound. All prim and uptight and so damn young.

  No wonder he says; “I don’t recall anything. It was a long time ago.”

  He withdraws the bottle and tips it up to drown a long slug.

  “It was seven months,” I say.

  “Exactly. A lot can happen in half a year.”

  He’s letting me know he hasn't thought of me, that I don’t mean a thing to him and I guess I can hardly blame him. Rafe’s a player, but one that women can’t resist. I was just a blip on his horizon. Dallyce told me that much when I casually asked about him on the drive back here after she picked me up. Anything to avoid the question hanging between us which was; What the hell are you doing all the way out here?

  “Same old Rafe,” she smiled. “Women go crazy for him. At least the few we’ve had stay at the ranch have fallen smitten by that arrogant nonchalant way he has of roping them in. But he’ll never change his rogue ways, I guarantee that.

  I may be a blip to him but I thought of him a lot when I first got back home. The first man I ever kissed, really kissed, and one so much older than me was hard to forget.

  Now, I look down at the thick thighs spread in the rocker, pressing the heels of his dusty boots to make the thing rock gently, so casually, like he doesn’t give a damn. He tips the bottle up again, staring out at the sun dropping into the horizon, like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. The only movement is the raise of his arm bringing the bottle to his full lips and the rocking of his hard heavy legs. My eyes trail up to the top of his legs and the bulge pressing at his jeans.

  I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the idea of climbing onto his lap and curling up there, begging him to wrap his wide embrace around me and hold me there. I haven't been held, not like that, since he kissed me. But I think he’s forgotten that now. That one kiss that was terrifying in its forcefulness, the desire in him demanding more than I thought I could give.

  “Tease,” he’d said when I pushed him off me, panting for air and confused as all hell.

  He started the truck again and pulled out from the side of the road and that was that. The rodeo Princesses tour moved on shortly after and I never even saw him again to say goodbye. He didn’t show up for breakfast and when I asked Shea, he merely shrugged and said Rafe liked to ride out early alone.

  Eventually I stopped thinking about the big, older cowboy every second of the day. I had school to finish and I wasn't a teenager now. I turned twenty but Rafe was in his thirties and wouldn't be thinking about a little girl he called a tease. But then I met Andrew Harry and managed to completely put Rafe out of my head, sure that Andrew and I were the real thing.

  Ouch.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” I say softly, forcing Andrew out of my thoughts and trying to engage Rafe, to get his attention somehow.

  “Humph,” he grunts and kicks back on his heels again to set his chair rocking.

  How can he be so nonchalant with me, like I’m not a person with feelings? I’d like to explain. I don’t know where to begin though. And I don’t know if he’s even interested in hearing what amounts to an excuse. That I was terrified of his power and his experience and his strength. All the things I regret not learning when I had the chance. All the things I’d like to get on my knees and beg for now.

  “I-” that’s it. That’s all I manage to squeak out before my heart shifts from fluttering in my chest to land in my throat and shut me down. Goddamn traitorous body.

  “Modesty what is it you’re trying to say?” Rafe asks, his jaw is taut as he continues to stare out at the horizon, not looking at me standing beside him.

  I reach out and grab the beer bottle from his hand. A jolt goes through my body as my fingers connect with his hard ones, more than twice as thick as mine. I’m surprised by the for
ce of the tingles going up my arms and down my legs. Surprised that my body suddenly feels the delicious heat of desire that I was sure was gone forever, after Andrew. A heat has built up between my thighs while I’ve been standing here without me even realizing it.

  “I’m not the girl I used to be,” I tell him.

  “Okay,” he grits out. “Virgin princess all grown up now?”

  “Screw you,” I blurt out. Fine if he wants to be a dick about this, he can go to hell.

  “Enjoy your sunset, all on your own,” I say and turn to go inside the house. Then I realize I might walk in on a lover’s tryst. Not wanting to outstay my welcome before it’s even begun, I turn the other way to stride across the grit yard toward the truck, thinking I’ll wait for Dallyce to come find me when they’re done.

  Chapter THREE

  Rafe

  I stretch my taut muscled limbs out across the rocker then settle back. The virgin princess stamps her little feet down the wooden steps of the porch and storms across the yard. It’s me that should be pissed and there she is acting like I’m the one being a dick. Even called me that right to my face. She’s learned some feist in the last few months.

  I stifle a grin and make to pull my hat down over my forehead, grab a few more minutes of shut eye before the promised steak appears. But I’m distracted in my attempt by the attraction of that small body strutting in fury away from me. The sway of her round little butt as she takes her anger out on the dust with those tiny feet. I can clearly imagine, as though I’m kicked back here watching them, her tits bouncing up and down with the force of each step.

  My wood is a fucking steel pole, harder than anything that ever came out of Quint’s blacksmith forge at the edge of the yard and just as red hot.

  And then, I don’t even realize it, I’m up outta my chair, the bottle goes down on top of the railing and I’m across the yard in a second. I catch up with her easily and grab her by the arm, jerking her around to face me. Her body, so light, bounces around from the power of my grip and she comes crashing into my chest.