The Cowboy's City Girl - An Enemies To Lovers Romance

by Emerson Rose

  “I’m always here for you, even if I’m not directly physically in front of you I will always be close by and if not, you will know where I’m at. From this moment forward, no matter what, I’ll make sure you always know exactly where I am. Will that help?”

  “No.”

  “No? I thought that was what you wanted?”

  “No, that is not what I wanted. I need you directly physically in front of me. I want to see your face every time I open my eyes.”

  “That sounds like codependency.”

  “Imani, it’s been this way since the moment you came home from the hospital with me. You are the only medication that heals me. Nothing and no one else can do what you do.”

  He burns a hole in my heart with the look in his eyes. They’re filled with such intensity and need that I begin to understand. His needs stem from abandonment and they are deeply rooted in the fear of losing me.

  “I’m here, I promise. Always, but you have to promise me something in return.”

  “Anything.”

  “Promise to do what the doctor tells you to do.” He nods mouthing the words ‘thank you’ as he pulls me in tight against his chest.

  “Marcus?”

  “I know what you want to talk about, actually I know all of the things you want to talk to me about.”

  “You do?” I’m not even sure what I want.

  “First of all, we are going home. As soon as Doctor Lorenzo gives me the green light to fly we will be leaving.”

  Well, that was definitely not what I was thinking, but good to know.

  “And second, I will continue with whatever treatment is necessary but only from this bed, next to you.” Now that’s what I wanted to talk about.

  “That’s good because I was considering IV sedation if you wouldn’t.”

  “I would not put that past you, lady,” he says with a snort.

  “Is there anything else I want to talk about?” I ask.

  “Yes, two more things. We are still going on a vacation. I want to go home first, but I told Elijah to keep making the arrangements.”

  He’s spoken to Elijah, and I’m assuming he’s still alive if he’s planning our vacation. He must have kept our argument to himself.

  “He told me.”

  Every muscle in my body is on lockdown. I stiffen in his arms and dig my fingernails into his skin and he winces. What exactly did Elijah tell him? Surely he hasn’t shared his feelings for me. No, that can’t be it. He must have told him that he warned me about Marcus’s past. I’m playing dumb until I can figure out how much he knows.

  “Told you what?”

  “Really, you’re feigning ignorance? And here I thought you would jump at the chance to drill me about my past.” Okay, so he knows that much. At least I have a place to start.

  “I don’t want you to tell me anything you’re not comfortable sharing. I’m not even sure I want to know who you used to be.”

  I’m such a liar. I do want to know. Maybe it’s stupid but I need to know who his enemies are, who to be afraid of and who to trust.

  He takes a deep breath and releases it with a chuckle.

  “You are the worst liar, Imani. We need to work on that, baby.”

  “I am not lying.”

  “Yes, you are and that’s alright. I have always known you are curious to a fault. Elijah got spooked when he saw the handcuffs on the headboard. He’s been scared for you all along. I also know he has a crush on you, Mrs. Castillo. So, let’s be completely honest and get it all out there so we can move on, okay?”

  He told Marcus? Is he insane? After seeing Marcus nearly beat Doctor Carlson to death, I can’t believe he did something so stupid.

  “Is he… OK?”

  “Yes, of course. He’s fine.”

  “But why? You almost killed Doctor Carlson for telling me the same thing.”

  “It’s different with Elijah. I care for him and he’s been with me for a very long time. I know he would never act on his feelings for you, he is too loyal. Doctor Carlson was a wolf in sheep’s clothing baiting his prey with the sins of my past. He wanted you for himself. He thought he could take what’s mine. I can’t fault Elijah for falling for you. You’re irresistible with your innocent aura and compassionate nature. Not to mention your soft silky skin.”

  He begins lightly tracing my figure, brushing the back of his fingers from my neck down my arm. “These luscious curves.” He continues over the rise of my hip and slips his hand inside my pajama bottoms, palming my ass, “And this ass, fuck, Imani, no man in his right mind could resist this ass.”

  I can feel him getting hard against that very ass. Oh no, we can’t go there, he promised. I remove his wandering hand and wrap his arm around my waist safely away from any part of me he might find enticing. Who am I kidding? He finds every part of me enticing.

  “You promised,” I say reminding him.

  “Technically I nodded, but yes, I agree to follow orders. But only if you take off these hideous pajama pants.”

  Oh my God, will he ever quit? “Marcus!”

  “What? They are truly awful. You have thousands of dollars’ worth of things to wear to bed yet you choose these ugly cotton plaid things?” he says, snapping the waistband of my pants.

  “I wanted to be comfortable, and these are comfortable.”

  “Do you think you could be comfortable in silk instead?”

  I roll my eyes and lifting my hips to scoot out of my warm pajamas, I throw them out onto the floor next to the bed. What a snob. “There. Satisfied?”

  “It’s a start.”

  “Okay, that’s enough. I’m keeping up my end of the bargain. I’m here, and I’m not leaving. Now it’s your turn. I’m calling to have Elijah bring your IV pole up here.”

  “Elijah isn’t here. I sent him to Dominus. But I’m sure Mr. Black is around, you can call him.”

  “Fine.” I grab my phone and call Mr. Black who promptly answers and agrees to bring me what I need from the mini-hospital, which reminds me. “Why did Elijah call your little hospital The Chamber?” His mood changes, I think I just hit a nerve.

  “You really don’t want to know these things, Imani.”

  “Yes, I do, I need to.”

  “You might feel differently about me if you know.” I turn onto my back so I can see his silhouette.

  “I will never feel anything but love for you.”

  He groans, “Sometimes people who wouldn’t cooperate were brought to the mini-hospital to be persuaded.”

  “How?” His mouth tightens into a straight line. “How did you persuade them, Marcus?”

  “It’s a medical facility.” Oh God, he tortured people down there, in this house? Now I’m glad he’s not recuperating down there. I don’t think I’ll ever set foot in that room again.

  “See, you don’t want to know the details.”

  “I still don’t understand why you call it The Chamber.”

  He stares at the ceiling for a while. “It’s air tight. If the person refused to see things my way they were left there and…”

  Oh my God. Chamber as in gas chamber.

  “I’ll be right back.” Nausea hits me from out of nowhere. I bolt out of bed into the bathroom, drop to my knees and wretch into the toilet.

  I don’t want to know anymore. He’s right; I can’t handle it. I grip the sides of the seat and feel his hands gathering my hair and smoothing it away from my face. I try to shoo him away with my hand but he won’t go.

  “Goddamn it, Imani. Let me help you.” He swats at me when I try to move his hands off of my shoulders.

  “I told you, you didn’t want to know. Fuck.”

  “Just a minute.” I need to collect myself. I’m sticky with sweat and my mouth tastes nasty. I also want to wait and be sure it’s over.

  “Come on, baby, let’s get you back to bed,” he says.

  “I need to brush my teeth. I’ll be there in a minute.” I need a moment alone.

  “Are you sure?” I nod a
nd reach up to squeeze his hand.

  “Alright, leave the door open in case you feel faint.”

  He reluctantly leaves me alone in the bathroom so I can brush my teeth. What is wrong with me? I don’t react to shocking news by vomiting, fainting yes, but vomiting, no. No one has ever told me that they killed people in a gas chamber in their basement before either, so there’s that.

  I look myself over in the mirror. I look fine, tired maybe but not sick. Maybe I should make an appointment to see a doctor? What am I thinking? We have a doctor right here in the house. I’ll talk to him tomorrow if I’m not better by then.

  In the bedroom I find Marcus with his arms propped on his knees staring out the window into the dark. He has a far off look in his eyes.

  He sees me and crooks his finger at me. I pad to the edge of the bed and hesitate.

  “Better?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not telling you anything else about my old life, so do not ask again, understand?”

  “Yes.” I usually bristle at his bossiness but not this time, this time I’m relieved to have this new rule now.

  “Get in.” He throws back the comforter, but there is a knock on the door.

  “Hey wait a minute,” he says. I turn around and he points at my bare legs.

  “Black doesn’t get to see that. I don’t need every man around here in love with you. Put something on.”

  I give him a half smile and bend down to grab my discarded pajama bottoms. I don’t look away from him while I slip each leg into them slowly.

  “I’m burning those when you put them in the laundry.”

  Now I know a surefire way to irritate my husband if necessary. One pair of cotton flannel pajama pants is all it takes.

  I open the door and Black silently hands me what looks like a large tackle box. I take it and watch him carry the IV pole across the room over the thick carpeting. He places it next to the bed on Marcus’s side.

  “Sir,” he says lifting his chin in a curt greeting.

  “Black,” Marcus says in the same short tone.

  Mr. Black turns to leave and finally addresses me as well.

  “Imani,” he says, and closes the door.

  I look at Marcus and roll my eyes. “What’s this?” I ask, holding up the tackle box.

  “Supplies.”

  I place the box on the dresser and work at reassembling his IV fluids. He watches me while I work but it feels like he is examining me, looking for something.

  “You don’t think?” he whispers.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He shakes off the thought but I’m burning with curiosity.

  “What? Tell me.”

  “No. Come to bed.”

  “Marcus, come on, you can’t just do that.”

  “Yes, I can. I just did. Now get into this bed with me, you promised.” I have a feeling he’s going to throw that deal at me a lot. Stubborn ass.

  I put my leg on the bed to climb in but he holds out his hand and stops me.

  “Uh-uh. Not with those monstrosities.” He points at my comfy pants. I sigh and pull them down roughly.

  “Much better.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Yes, I’ve been told.”

  He holds up the duvet and I crawl in and nestle into my home in the curve between his arm and chest. Keeping my promise is going to be easy. I could live forever in this spot, wrapped in his strong arms, listening to his heartbeat, breathing in his masculine scent.

  “I adore you,” he says, kissing the top of my head and all of my fears and worries about his past are forgotten. For now.

  Ninety-Four

  Two days later, I have not been out of Marcus’s sight longer than it takes me to pee, and I’m starting to get stir crazy. I want to go exploring around the house for the lock that the mystery key opens.

  I almost came clean and asked him but I chickened out. I even considered putting it back, but I couldn’t do that either.

  Doctor Lorenzo informed us yesterday that it will be safe for Marcus to travel in a couple of days but out of the blue he started dragging his feet.

  Elijah has been dropping hints about the vacation plans. Apparently, it’s a secret, and Marcus loves to torture me with secrets and surprises.

  Elijah and I never spoke about our fight. We have been acting like it never happened and that’s okay with me.

  I haven’t been feeling tip top lately, but I’m doing everything I can to fake feeling great. I want to go home, and I know Marcus won’t let me travel if he thinks I’m still sick.

  Doctor Lorenzo gave me a mini checkup the day before yesterday. He did some basic blood work and said I probably had a virus but Marcus keeps watching me like I’m going to spontaneously combust at any second.

  “Do you feel OK today?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you feeling OK today?” I ask, sarcastically. He is the one who just had brain surgery and sepsis.

  “Yes, Imani, thank you for asking.” He sounds annoyed.

  “So, can we go home this week? I don’t understand what we’re waiting for. Doctor Lorenzo told you yesterday it was safe for you to fly. You said we would leave the minute he gave us the green light.”

  He’s standing a few feet from me, buttoning up his jeans and I’m sitting on the bed he insisted on making this morning.

  I can’t believe how much I’ve missed seeing him dress in actual clothes. Not that I don’t enjoy him lounging around in his briefs all day. But seeing him dressed in a fitted Henley and a pair of jeans with his hair getting longer feels like we are making progress.

  “Something came up.” Something came up, really? That’s it?

  “Like what? I can’t imagine anything more important than going home other than your health. If it’s work related, can’t Elijah handle it?”

  I’m starting to sound whiny but frankly I don’t care. I need to be back in Seattle. I need my family and my friends, and I need to get away from this house that is a constant reminder of Marcus’s old life.

  “No, he can’t.” He closes the gap between us and smoothes his hands down my bare arms. “It won’t be long, I promise. I know you’re restless, and you want to go home. Trust me. Please?”

  I frown and draw my neck back a notch. Please? He doesn’t usually ask, he commands. And he almost never says please.

  “Okay,” I say, my voice laced with suspicion. He ignores it and leans in to cover my mouth with his soft lips. He slides one hand around the back of my neck and guides me closer, deepening the kiss, taking my breath away.

  When he pulls back, I don’t open my eyes. I don’t move at all. Every time he kisses me is like the first time, I’m left breathless and under his spell.

  He asked me nicely to trust him and topped it off with a magical kiss. Whatever it was that came up must be incredibly important.

  “Come on, I want to go down to the kitchen for breakfast today. I’m tired of these four walls.” He pulls me off the bed and leads me to the door.

  “Wait, I need my sweater.” I’ve taken to wearing twin-sets all the time. This bug is messing with my thermostat, one minute I’m hot the next I’m chilly.

  This morning has been hot, and nauseating, and now I have to go choke down some breakfast without hurling, great. He holds the door open while I slip on a gray cashmere sweater and a pair of Toms; no heels, I don’t have the energy.

  Everyone is in the kitchen sitting around the table eating breakfast when we arrive.

  “Buenos Dias! Sit, sit, I’ll make you breakfast.” Maria stands and offers me her seat. Her plate is still half full. Everyone else is finished, she always serves others first and eats last.

  “You’re not done, Maria. I can wait, it’s fine.” My God, that’s an understatement. The smell of coffee has me scoping out where I’m going to throw up if I can’t make it to the nearest bathroom.

  “No, you sit down and eat. Maria doesn’t mind, do you, Maria?” M
arcus says. I scowl at him for being rude and of course, he brushes it off as nothing. This group is used to it.

  “Rude much?” I say.

  “Smart mouth much?” he says, raising his eyebrows high.

  I don’t know why but that almost makes me laugh. I bite my lip to keep from giggling. He circles the table and pulls out the chair Maria has just abandoned for me.

  Now I have to try and eat breakfast. I’m trapped. I breathe through my mouth to minimize the smell and sit down between Elijah and Black.

  The two men stare at me with the strangest expression.

  “What? Why are you looking at me that way?”

  Elijah lowers his eyes to his laptop, and Mr. Black snaps his newspaper sharply and disappears behind it.

  Either I’m starting to get paranoid from being cooped up so long or these people are losing their marbles.

  “You like waffles, yes?” Maria asks.

  “Yes, but you don’t have to make something special for me.” I don’t want her to make anything at all. My mouth is already watering, and it’s not from hunger.

  I twist to face her, hoping she can see the struggle in my eyes, and after a moment of scrutinizing me, she starts to put the food away. She is an angel sent straight from heaven, and if I didn’t feel like puking, I’d kiss her.

  Marcus pours himself a cup of coffee at the counter far away from me, thank God. A few quiet minutes pass, and I stare out the windows that face the back yard. The trees are bending and twisting in the wind.

  It’s chilly here, but it’s much colder back home in Seattle. I never thought I’d long for the cold February days of a Seattle winter, but I do. I miss the forests and the snow but most of all I miss my family.

  Maria sets a steaming cup of something in front of me, and I hold my breath. Please don’t let it be coffee.

  “It’s ginger tea.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Then she places a plate down with a piece of dry toast and a hardboiled egg on it. I curl my lip and wrinkle my nose.

  “You try it, you will see.” She scoots the plate closer to me. I nod and sip the tea carefully. It’s hot, but the smell doesn’t bother me. In fact, I feel pretty good at the moment.

  “Good?” Marcus asks, keeping his distance.