by Myla Jackson
Linus Wallendorf, the attorney who’d read his grandfather’s will, stood on the steps to the church beside Preacher Fruendlin. Richard set the brake and leaped from the buggy, heat climbing up his collar into his cheeks. As he ascended the church steps, his gaze scanned the gathering searching for her shiny black hair and pale blue eyes. The more he scanned, the more he felt it in the pit of his stomach that she wasn’t there.
“Richard.” Linus stepped forward. “In the event you reached the steps of the church to be married by your twenty-fifth birthday, which would be today, your grandfather left instructions for me to pass on another bit of information from his will.”
“Can this wait, Mr. Wallendorf?” Richard shot a glare at the attorney before continuing his perusal of the crowd of women and men staring at him as if he’d grown a horn in the middle of his head. “What?” He demanded. “Did you come to see me make a fool of myself? Is that why you all are here?”
“No, we’re here to help you celebrate your marriage,” Mrs. Clancy’s smile was encouraging. Entirely too happy. “Who is she? Who did you choose? Was it someone from my party?”
“Richard, I must insist,” Mr. Wallendorf persisted. “As part of my duties to your grandfather, I must pass on this information prior to your wedding.”
“Then do it.” She wasn’t coming anyway. Pain radiated throughout his chest, crushing the air from his lungs. Julia would rather go to jail than to marry him. Damn. He should have let her make the decision instead of threatening her. Never in a million years would he take her to the sheriff. He couldn’t bear the thought of her in jail, for all the desperate outlaws to gawk at and paw, possibly rape and hurt. No, he couldn’t do that, had never really intended to. It was nothing more than an empty threat.
Had Julia seen through him? Had she guessed that he wouldn’t go ahead with his plan to turn her in?
“Your grandfather said that if you were to follow through with the promise to marry by your twenty-fifth birthday, which you have, I was to inform you he never intended to give the land to Mathis in the first place. He just wanted you to make an honest effort to wed. You never were in jeopardy of losing the land.” Linus inhaled and blew out. “There. I’ve done my duty, now where is the bride?”
As Linus’s words sank in, rage spread throughout Richard’s body and up into his neck until he felt his head would explode like a volcano. “What did you say?” He grabbed Linus by the collar and lifted him off his feet. “You mean to tell me all of this was a lie?”
“I only did what your grandfather asked,” Linus said, his voice strangled, his face a ghastly red.
“I don’t have to marry to save my land?” All his threats, his broken engagement to Violet, possibly losing his only chance with the lovely Julia Blackmon, all rushed in to cloud his thoughts with black, fiery anger.
Mr. Wallendorf shook his head, his skin turning a frightening shade of blue. “No, you don’t. Never did,” he wheezed through his choked windpipe.
Richard dropped him to his feet. When he should have felt relief that the farce of a wedding didn’t have to take place, he felt empty.
Stephen took the steps two at a time, apparently unaware of what had just transpired between the attorney and Richard. “Oh good, you came to your own wedding. Sorry I was late, I stopped in at the sheriff’s office. He sent his apologies that he can’t make the celebration. He caught the Black Bandit.”
Richard tore his gaze from his search through the crowd. “He did what?” Had his entire world turned upside down? His heart hammered against his ribs, but he stopped himself short of racing through town to the jail. “When did he catch her and where?”
“Her?” Stephen started at him as if he’d lost his mind. “It was a him and he captured the man last night on the road east of town. Apparently the bandit put up quite a fight, but they have him locked up in jail.”
Him. They had the real Black Bandit, not Julia. Relief washed over him, followed by instant worry. He had no hold on Julia, now. They’d caught the real Black Bandit. It would be her word against his if he tried to turn her into the sheriff. Not that he would. Aw hell. He might as well go home. Julia would know he couldn’t turn her in. With news like that filling the gossip vines, she’d know by now. No wonder she hadn’t shown up.
Richard had taken one step down when a hushed murmur spread from the back of the crowd. The murmur grew into loud applause and cheers.
Richard glanced up, afraid to believe his own eyes.
Julia Blackmon strode down the street toward him, head held high, the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Dressed in an old-fashioned white gown and carrying a bouquet of wildflowers, she hurried toward him, followed by an old woman.
As she neared the crowd, it parted, making way for the bride.
Richard descended the stone steps and held out his hand.
She took it in hers, a sad smile quirking the corners of her mouth. “I know they caught the Black Bandit.”
“My grandfather’s will was a hoax,” Richard blurted.
“We don’t have to get married, do we?” She stared up into his eyes, waiting for his response.
“No we don’t.” Richard glanced at the crowd, at the preacher and his brother and returned his gaze to her. “But since we’re here…will you marry me?” He held his breath for the longest time, until he felt he’d pass out in front of the woman he knew he could love, given half a chance.
Her gaze locked with his and, for a long moment, she didn’t utter a word. Then the sweetest word he’d ever heard came from her lips. “Yes.”
All the air in his chest rushed out and a grin spread across his face. “Let’s go inside.” He held his elbow out for her to take, more happiness radiating throughout his being than he ever thought possible.
“No.” She pulled back on his arm, the smile gone from her face.
“No?” Had he heard her wrong? Had she not said yes? All his hopes crashed into the pit of his empty belly. Damn the woman and damn himself!
Then her face lit in a blinding grin. “The church is too small to accommodate all these fine people. Can’t we get married right here in the sunshine, in front of God and the good citizens of Mule Ear?”
For the second time in a minute, he let out a long sigh of relief. “Julia Blackmon, I don’t care if we get married locked up in the jailhouse, as long as you hurry it up and say I do.”
Her smile turned mischievous, “That, cowboy, can be arranged.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear. “But think of all the fun you’d be missing on the wedding night if we spent it in jail.”
* * * * *
Four hours and a hundred well-wishes later found Mr. and Mrs. Richard Rayburn in the white iron bed. Julia straddled her husband’s naked body with his cock poised to enter her slick pussy.
“Any regrets for having married me, cowboy?” She held steady, refusing to slide down over him until he answered.
“And if I did, isn’t it a little late?” He grabbed her hips with his rough hands.
She frowned and strained against his greater strength, refusing to consummate their lovemaking until she knew for certain how he felt. “I see you need training in what a woman likes to hear.”
“I have training in what a woman wants.” He leaned forward and latched onto her breast, sucking it fully into his mouth, then letting it go with a loud pop.
“I see.” She moved as if to dismount, not that she wanted to, but this husband had to learn respect for his wife’s needs.
His hands held her firm. “I have no regrets, but what about you?”
She wanted more than anything to hear words of love and endearment, but knew it was too soon to expect. “I don’t regret marrying you. As a husband, you have potential.”
He slapped her fanny. “Potential?”
“Yes, potential. With a little training and care, you will come to love me.”
“Sweetheart, it’s too late.” He grabbed her hands in his. “The moment you stuck a pistol to my head,
I was lassoed, noosed and hung.”
She tried to tug her hands from his. “By your description, you can’t be too happy about that. Let me go.” Though half-hearted, she struggled against his greater strength. A woman shouldn’t give in so easily.
“I can’t let you go.” He drew her down to him until her lips hovered over his. “Not when I love you so much,” he breathed against her lips. Then he kissed her hard, his tongue thrusting between her teeth as his cock thrust into her cunt.
When she surfaced for air, she sat up, deepening their connection, her heart filling with the joy of his words. “You love me? So soon?”
“Yes.”
“I love you too, cowboy.” She rose up until his penis poised at her entrance, a crooked smile on her lips. “What more did Tessa teach you?” she demanded as she eased down over him until she sheathed the length of him once more in her moist heat.
“Enough to get us started.” He rolled her over on her back and rammed into her, fucking her like a whore.
“That’ll do for a start.” Julia planted her feet in the feather mattress and rocked upward, meeting his thrusts with her own. “And I’ll take it from there.”
About the Author
I’ve written for Ellora’s Cave since September of 2006 when my first release Trouble with Harry came out. Since then, I’ve expanded from reluctant genies to werewolves, chameleons, vampires and witches. For me, reading and writing gives me the freedom to explore strange new worlds and write the characters and creatures clamoring to escape my mind. I like writing everything from romantic comedy to dark and sexy suspense. Mostly I like to escape into other worlds whether grounded in reality or complete fantasy. Come…escape with me!
Myla welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Myla Jackson
Ellora’s Cavemen: Dreams of the Oasis I anthology
Jacq’s Warlord with Delilah Devlin
Sex, Lies & Vampire Hunters
Shewolf
Thorn’s Kiss
Trouble With Harry
Trouble With Will
Witch’s Curse
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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