The Cowboy's Bride

by Starla Kaye

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  The Cowboy’s Bride

  by Starla Kaye

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  Romance

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  Black Velvet Seductions Publishing Company

  www.blackvelvetseductions.com

  Copyright ©2012 by Starla Kaye

  First published in 2012, 2012

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  The Cowboy’s Bride

  Available Now From Black Velvet Seductions

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  The Cowboy’s Bride

  Starla Kaye

  Copyright 2012 Starla Kaye

  Cover Art Copyright 2012 by Richard Savage

  All rights 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 or reviews.

  All characters in this book are completely fictional. They exist only in the imagination of the author. Any similarity to any actual person or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Published by Black Velvet Seductions Publishing Company

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  The Cowboy’s Bride

  A trickle of daylight seeping in through the nearby window fell across Amy’s face, pulling her from sleep. She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, only to become more fuzzily awake. Her forehead throbbed as if someone pounded a hammer inside her head.

  Slowly she became aware of the mattress beneath her. It felt firmer. Somehow she didn’t ache as much as she normally did after a night on her too squishy mattress. And where was the worn quilt she loved to snuggle under? Why didn’t the sheet smell like her favorite dryer sheets, all nice and flowery?

  She sniffed again to make sure her nose wasn’t just having an off day. Musk. Something else, too. Something wasn’t right. No, many things weren’t right. The mattress…the musky smell…and she was naked! She never slept naked, except when…

  Oh God! She wasn’t alone. How could she have been unaware of the large, warm body tucked behind her? Her heart pounded even worse than her head now. There was a warm, fully aroused naked male next to her. Fortunately he didn’t appear to be attempting to do anything about the intimate situation.

  Do something

  What

  Now that she was fully awake, eyes open, she stared at the muscled forearm draped over her chest. How could she not have noticed that? A man’s arm was…

  Wait! She knew that arm. Lee Grayson. Tingles of anticipation spread through her. He was a woman’s wet dream. Not hers, of course. He wasn’t her type.

  Forcing the knowledge of who she was in bed with aside for the moment, she realized that, oddly, she didn’t feel quite so panicked now.

  Barely breathing, she looked around the strange bedroom. It was easily at least twice the size of the travel trailer she lived in at the RV park just outside of Denver. No, three times the size. Irrelevant. Totally.

  Where was she—where were they? Why were they here? She wished more of the fuzziness in her brain would go away.

  She elbowed the man lightly snoring behind her. “Get off me.”

  The big lug didn’t do more than grunt.

  Annoyed, she took the time to glance around her. The bed was massive but it seemed smaller because the man behind her was taking up more than his share of the mattress. Thick beige carpet covered the floor of the large room. The dress she’d worn last night to a celebratory party at the home of her best friend Molly’s brother lie in a discarded wad a dozen feet from the bed. There were no undergarments next to it because the expensive designer gown Molly had loaned her had been too tight for them. But her also-borrowed Manolo Blahink heels were scattered one shoe after the other from just inside the closed bedroom door to her dress. What had she been thinking?

  She squirmed, trying to wriggle free from the behemoth behind her, only managing to make him latch firmly onto her right breast. She sucked in a breath, which made her breast push out against that warm hand. To her disgust, the nipple hardened and a shiver of awareness moved through her. Her clit pulsed almost in time with the pounding in her head. Oh, perfect, traitorous body!

  “Wake up!” she hissed at the man she’d had too many dreams about in the years since she’d met him. “Come on, Grayson, wake up!”

  Another grunt. Another breast squeeze. More ridiculous tingles moving low in her body.

  Trying to calm her reactions, she attempted to focus her thoughts on more than her bed mate. How had she gotten here with the infamous quarterback for the Denver Mustangs? He was a playboy the media claimed took a different woman to his bed every night. She was not that kind of woman. At least she hadn’t thought she was. In some of the dreams she’d had about him she might have been pretty daring, definitely naughty. But in the light of day she was not like that. Yet here she was in bed with him.

  Darn it all, that hand felt good clamped against her aching breast. Focus. And not on him.

  She remembered talking to him, being handed a drink she hadn’t wanted, and then… Nothing. Her head throbbed again, her memories were still vague.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, tried to concentrate harder. They’d talked about… what? Probably something to do with football, since he lived and breathed it. They’d walked to the staircase. Then what? She couldn’t remember walking up the stairs, or ending up here in this bedroom. His bedroom!

  Her eyes flashed open with that realization. She knew in her gut that this was his room. She bristled in fury, so mad she couldn’t move and could barely breathe. How dare he bring her up here! He never paid much attention to her partly because of her close relationship with his sister. Partly because…well, she wasn’t the type of woman he chased.

  His thumb played her nipple like a guitarist strumming strings with a pic, distracting her. This time she latched onto his arm and shoved it away. Then she scooted to the other side of the bed, tugging the sheet with her. The rest of the covers had been shoved over the footboard.

  She’d just started to crawl off the bed when her progress was stopped by a firm pull on the sheet. “Let go!” she squeaked, attempting to get free again. Her stomach lurched. Her head felt light, dizzy. Something was really wrong. She’d had a hangover before but this didn’t have that kind of feeling.

  “Where are you going, sweetheart?” Lee asked, sounding sleepy, puzzled. “Give me a couple of minutes and—”

  “Not happening, you jerk.” She wasn’t just any woman who crawled into bed with him! She was his sister’s best friend. He should have respected her, not…

  Frustrated, she tossed the sheet away and scampered off the bed, surprised when she swayed dizzily. She’d felt like this once before when she’d been in the bow of a boat on a rough day at the lake. Something was definitely odd.

>   She slumped onto the side of the bed and put her head in her hands while the world righted itself. Her long hair fell around her, another annoyance. She usually wore it in a braid at night.

  The heat from a vent overhead blew across her, reminding her that she was naked. What did it matter? He’d obviously seen her that way last night. Although the how, when, and why were pretty indistinct.

  She’d never been able to handle liquor, which was why she didn’t usually drink anything more than a rare glass of wine, a small glass. She was the type who had a hangover after only two drinks. But she must have gone well beyond that limit. Odd, though, she didn’t remember it. The last drink she remembered was…?

  She did recall someone she couldn’t quite place handing both her and Lee glasses before they left the room of raucous partyers. He’d laughed when they’d attempted to refuse, telling them to “lighten up” and accept the drinks in the good spirit they were given.

  She blinked, remembering more. They’d chitchatted about football until her eyes had all but glazed over. She’d asked if they could go someplace quieter and he’d agreed. She’d wanted to talk to him about Molly, about a charity gig that Molly really wanted his help with. He’d said something about them going to talk in his den. They’d hastily swallowed the drink they’d been handed, put the glasses on the tray of a waiter passing by, and headed out of the room. But they’d been walking by—not up—the staircase…

  Tears threatened. How had she—they—ended up here in his bedroom? This was so not her. Still, here she was.

  She stood up again, bent down to scoop up her dress, and the world tilted. She nearly toppled over face first. Steadying herself, she held the dress in front of her, then turned to glower at him. “Did you give me something last night?”

  A crooked grin tipped up one side of his mouth, his eyes barely open. “Honey, I sure hope so.” He rolled to his side and swept his heated gaze over her. “I’d like to do it again, too.” Then his eyes widened as if he’d finally recognized her. “What the hell?”

  She glowered at him. “Believe me, Lee Grayson, I’m every bit as thrilled about the situation as you obviously are.” She clutched the dress tighter. “I meant did you slip something into my drink?”

  Now he sat up, frowning in indignation, his collar-length dark brown hair sexily mussed. “I don’t need to drug a woman to get her into my bed.” He rubbed his forehead with a thumb and a finger. Then he narrowed his eyes at her. “Maybe you gave me something. Maybe you were so desperate to—”

  She stomped back to the bed, picked up a pillow and hit him with it. “You are so not my type,” she protested. “I like a man who…” She stopped mid-sentence when she caught him staring at her, flashing a teasing grin. That’s when she realized she’d dropped her dress in order to attack him with the pillow.

  Her face heated and, annoyingly, so did nearly every inch of her body. He might not be the kind of man she usually dated, but he was definitely all man and a very sexually appealing one. And she’d had far too many dreams about him. Hot dreams.

  Blowing out a deep breath of irritation, she glanced at him again. Mistake. He might be just as confused and frustrated with the situation as she was, but it was also clear that he wanted her. His long—oh wow kind of long—cock stood thick and ready for round two. Or maybe it was round three or four. She honestly had no idea. She had no memory of making love with him at all. Having sex, she firmly reminded herself. This man wasn’t capable of making love, that would involve at least a hint of caring. She didn’t think the great Lee Grayson cared for anyone other than himself. Well, maybe he cared about Molly and possibly one or two of the other adopted Graysons.

  “I’ve never been into sassy women or brunettes.” Still, the grinning idiot winked at her, clearly willing to overlook her close relationship to his sister. “But I’m willing to…”

  She ground her teeth, ignored the pounding in her head, and marched back to scoop up her dress again. This time she jerked it on before looking back at the man now tossing his long, muscled legs over the side of the bed to sit up. His ruggedly handsome face paled, tightened with pain. He put an arm across his firm abdomen, grimaced. He looked as bad as she felt.

  Had they both been drugged? Why?

  “Do you remember exactly how we got here?” She moved to the bed and tried not to stare at his athletically honed body. His pecs were pretty spectacular and dotted with only a fine dusting of dark hair. She might be able to find fault with a lot about him, but not with his body.

  His deep brown eyes seemed a bit dull as he gazed at her. “Actually, no.”

  Before either of them could say more she heard footsteps in the hallway outside the bedroom. Instinct warned her that trouble was on its way. She was almost certain the room was about to be invaded and she didn’t want anyone seeing Lee in his sexually hot, bad-boy state. She grabbed another pillow and tossed it to him. “Cover yourself!”

  For a second she thought he would play stubborn and not obey, and then he dragged the pillow over his very enthusiastic male part. “No one comes in here uninvited.”

  The words had no sooner left his mouth than someone tapped hard once on the door and then pushed it open. Molly sped into the room no longer wearing the cocktail dress she’d had on the night before. She’d changed into slim fitting jeans and a pink shirt. Her cheeks flaming, she glanced from Amy to her brother, semi-hiding behind a pillow.

  “Have you seen the morning news?” Molly questioned, eyes flashing. She glanced at the rumpled bed and then at Lee’s discarded clothing on the floor next to his side of the bed and scowled. “No, I’m guessing?”

  Giving an I-can’t-believe-this look, she hurried over to the wall-mounted flat screen TV. She powered it on and punched the channels to the morning sports report. She waved her hand at the list of upcoming segments and Amy gaped seeing “Mustang quarterback Lee Grayson threatened with suspension.”

  “What the hell?” Lee growled and started to climb out of bed.

  At hearing his movement, both Amy and Molly turned in his direction and yelped, “No!”

  Molly covered her eyes, blushed even more, and turned away. “You’re my brother, for pity’s sake. I sooo don’t need to see… well, you know.”

  Amy strode around the bed and picked up his black silk boxers and tossed them to him. “Get decent.”

  Lee snagged the shorts and leveled a we’ll-talk-later look at Amy. His sister’s closest friend was with him, had been snarling at him almost nonstop since he’d awakened. Could the day get any worse? His head pounded. He felt nauseous. And he had two pissed-off women in his bedroom.

  “Denver Mustang’s manager announced early this morning that there is the strong possibility that quarterback Lee Grayson will be suspended for the rest of the season,” said one of the four men on the sports news panel. “More after this commercial break.”

  “Shit!” Evidently the day could get far worse. “What have I supposedly done this time?” he asked. He honestly didn’t have a clue. All he knew was that the team needed him as they neared the playoffs. The games in December were critical.

  Amy snorted and looked at him in disgust. “This time being the key words. There’s hardly a week that goes by without you doing something to make the gossip news.”

  Didn’t he know it! Half the stuff told about him wasn’t even close to being true. The other half came close, but was still exaggerated a lot. The PR department for the team had built most of his somewhat outrageous reputation. He’d gone along with it for years. Now, though, he was tired of the games played off the field. The man they portrayed as him wasn’t the man he really wanted the world to see, especially not the kids. He just hadn’t known quite how to stop it all. Lately his supposed antics had seemed to snowball into flat-out craziness. He’d been meaning to have a talk with his personal manager and the team’s owners. Maybe the PR boys were getting more attention from this—whatever it was—and were beyond happy. He sure as hell wasn’t happy!


  Molly blew out a breath and caught his attention. She shook her head, her expression worried. “This is bad stuff, Lee.” She faced Amy, looking miserable. “It affects you, too.”

  “Me?” Amy blinked in surprise.

  “How…” Lee started to ask and stopped as the commercial ended.

  The announcer was back and they listened as tales of Lee’s past sexual exploits with numerous famous women were rehashed. The sportscasters even hinted he’d taken part in several menages. He felt like scum with his sister hearing this, knowing it wasn’t a lie.

  And then an exaggerated story about the party at his home last night came on. A shocked guest had witnessed Lee drinking and flirting with an obviously inebriated friend of his sister, Amy Ward, on the staircase leading upstairs. The unnamed observer had watched Ms. Ward go limp. Lee had swept the poor woman into his arms and carried her to his bedroom, promising to take very good care of her as he went. The implications of just how he would take care of her made him sound like a real slime bucket.

  He took a deep breath. He might not be an angel, but, hell, he wasn’t a lust-crazed animal either. Who the hell was this “informant”?

  Next there were allegations of Lee slipping Ms. Ward a date rape drug. And then the reporter questioned whether he’d done that in the past with other women. Lee’s hands were clenched tight around the pillow in his lap. Every muscle in his body felt tight. He could barely breathe, he was so angry. This was by far the worst story about him. He might play around with a menage now and then, with willing partners. And, yes, he might have gone to bed with more women than he should have. But he would never consider drugging a woman! It sickened him to think people might actually believe that of him.

  Molly had gone pale, and stood rigidly watching the news report.

  Amy appeared stiff, her jaw tense, her hands fisted at her sides. He didn’t even want to think about what she thought of him after listening to the TV broadcast. Damn. She’d accused him of slipping her something. He’d blown it off. Would these lies only add credence to what she’d suspected?