by Morgan Fox
Texas Stallions 2
Breathless Temptation
After a traumatic car accident, Delilah Devero learns that her brakes had been tampered with, leaving her hospitalized and stranded in Temptation, Texas. Sheriff Clay Garrett and cattle rancher Hunter Boyd become her salvation, protecting her from a deranged stalker.
Forced to put their possessive desires aside, the cowboys cannot ignore the fiery connection that burns hot for Delilah. Exploring the passions that lie deep within her heart, Clay and Hunter begin to unravel a plan to keep her from running away from the dangers of her past. Both men agree that settling down at Turtledove Ranch could prove to be her sanctuary, but their plans quickly disintegrate when the evil she fears most threatens to destroy everything she’s come to love.
Together, Clay and Hunter must figure out a way to keep the woman they long for safe. What they encounter may leave them breathless.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 42,481 words
BREATHLESS TEMPTATION
Texas Stallions 2
Morgan Fox
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
BREATHLESS TEMPTATION
Copyright © 2012 by Morgan Fox
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-804-3
First E-book Publication: July 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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DEDICATION
As always, for my husband, Eric, and to you, the reader, for taking another journey with me into the wonderful world of romance.
To Krista Payne, Trish Cook, Lydia Mazza, and Andrea Ashby. Thanks for being amazing friends.
BREATHLESS TEMPTATION
Texas Stallions 2
MORGAN FOX
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
Sitting at the bar in a local pub, off-duty Sheriff Clay Garrett stared into the warm, amber-filled mug of beer as he pondered the last several months. Temptation, Texas, had turned into a town he felt he no longer recognized. Everything around him was changing, and perhaps not for the best.
Serial killer Dexter Ragland had ventured into the once-quiet ranch town and for several months wreaked havoc, stalking women, terrorizing their community, and brutally murdering a young woman in cold blood. Had the Boyd brothers, Tyler, Cooper, and Hunter, not been protecting Abigail Carter, the new owner of Paradise Ranch, there might have been another woman’s murder to report. Luckily, the brothers were there to ultimately see to his capture.
After living in the suburbs of Houston for twenty years, dealing with routine burglaries, domestic violence, and murder, he was ready to live a small-town life. He assumed he’d find that much-sought-after lifestyle in Temptation. For the past five years, he had called Temptation his home, transferring in as the new sheriff once the old sheriff had retired. Life seemed to be looking up for him then, but now, he felt like all that had gone to hell in a handbasket.
“Well, aren’t you just a sexy drink of water sitting on that barstool.” The sultry Southern voice of Roxy Burnett, a buxom blonde and the town’s free spirit, purred into his ears as she leaned against the bar beside him. Her low-cut shirt revealed nearly all of her ample breasts. The woman was known for her forward advances. “It sure has been a long time since I’ve seen you around here, Sheriff.”
“Roxy,” he said, acknowledging her with a subtle nod.
Smiling like a camera was about to flash, she asked, “What’s brought you into our little hole in the wall?” Her dark lashes batted several times, and her brown eyes sparkled as she slid over another inch to be closer to him.
“I guess you could say I’m unwinding from a busy week.” He was hoping she would lose interest in him if he didn’t offer to buy her a drink, which he had absolutely no intentions of doing.
He really wasn’t interested in hooking up with Roxy, and he knew better than most that that was exactly what the promiscuous woman wanted. The pale-skinned, pouty-red-lipped wildcat made no attempts at hiding her sexual interest in men. She wasn’t after a marriage proposal, but she was certainly after any man who could satisfy her needs. Roxy made it known that she’d search high and low to have sex with any man willing. The woman might not look like she was lonely, but what else would drive a woman to act in such a wanton way?
Pinching his brows together at the bridge of his nose, he tried not to remember the last time he caught Roxy in a compromising situation. She’d found herself a young, out-of-town stud, one who found her forward advances appealing. When he came upon the stud’s parked car, he found the young man’s head buried between her spread legs. Roxy simply smiled through the car window and waved her fingers up at him. She didn’t even let the young man up for air as he stood there, flashlight in hand, waiting for them to separate. Roxy was truly an interesting woman.
Clay reached inside his pocket, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, and placed it on the counter. H
e then flagged over the bartender and said, “Ray, this should cover my beer and a drink for Roxy. Keep the change.”
Ray nodded.
“Well, that’s awfully nice of you, Sheriff. Are you sure you can’t stay to join me for at least one drink?”
Clay glanced back at his full beer and said, “Actually, I’m just not in the mood to drink tonight, but maybe some other time, Roxy.” He rose to his feet and placed the tan Stetson on his head. “Be sure you find yourself a ride home tonight. No drinking and driving.”
“Oh, Sheriff, you know me. I’ll be sure to find a ride tonight,” she said with a giggle, lightly slapping his shoulder at the sexual innuendo.
Clay snickered at her choice of words and didn’t doubt for a moment that Roxy would easily find someone to ride tonight, even if that meant she actually had to walk home afterward.
* * * *
Delilah Devero played with the radio of her car as she drove too fast through the middle of nowhere, Texas. She’d decided to take the back roads, hoping to keep her possessive and creepy stepbrother from tracking her. Staring at the dark, unlit country road ahead with absolutely no sign of life around her, she wondered if that was actually her brightest idea.
Glancing down at the gas gauge, she now knew it was definitely not a bright idea. Her tank was practically empty, and she had no idea how many miles were left to get to the nearest gas station. Technology challenged, she had a hard time understanding the functionalities of her GPS unit or fancy new smart phone to help her out. Bored senseless by technical jargon, she had limited interest in learning how to use all the latest and greatest intricate software.
Groaning, she realized more and more just how much she disliked her stepfamily. It was their fault she was out here in the first place.
Warren Michaels, her stepbrother, had given her every reason to flee without notice. He was the sort of man who didn’t take no for an answer. He also didn’t understand that she wasn’t attracted to his lean, average build.
He was just about five foot nine, but that was only if he was wearing shoes. His dark, wavy hair and eyes were unnaturally the same color. His square features and fake-bake skin had her feeling as though he’d made one too many trips to the plastic surgeon and tanning salon.
Unfortunately, Warren’s mother somehow managed to get her father to marry her several years ago, and ever since that day, Delilah’s life had been nothing but misery. Cringing at the thought, she considered that maybe Sharon Michaels gave incredible blowjobs. With a terrible personality and demeanor, what else could there be that had her father acting so dumb that he would actually marry a woman like that?
Shrugging the thought off, she didn’t know, and at the moment she didn’t care. She was getting as far away from that hell as possible.
Too consumed by his work, her father, Marshall Devero, never noticed how horribly Sharon treated her. Under her own roof, Delilah felt like the one who didn’t belong. The only time Sharon treated her warmly was under her father’s watchful gaze, but since he was seldom around, the false warmth was hardly ever there.
Warren, on the other hand, was a little too warm with Delilah. His overpowering affections freaked her out. He was strange and creepy, aggressive and dangerous. When he managed to trap her alone, he’d corner her and force himself against her, whispering that she was meant to be his and his alone. He swore that she wanted him, too, but she was playing hard to get. Spoiled, rich girls did that, and he found the game of cat and mouse appealing.
Delilah wanted to laugh in his face, but for her father’s sake, she never did. Even though she saw no love between her father and Sharon, she didn’t want to be the only reason her father left the money-grubbing bitch. Thank God for well-written prenuptial agreements.
Loaded to the gills, her father was an extremely wealthy oilman. Raised in Texas with his own family, Marshall later moved to California when he married Delilah’s mother, Pamela. She was a true Texas gal, but when his business affairs took him west, her mother was right by his side. After Delilah was born, her mother suffered from complications and died. People seemed to come out of the woodwork to comfort her father. She was sure he knew most of the people claiming to care about him were just after his money, but after twenty-five years alone, he decided to marry again. Sadly, that’s when Sharon and Warren Marshall came charging into her life.
“Shit,” Delilah cried as she drove slightly off the two-lane road, distracted once again by not only her wandering thoughts but her tired mind.
Eyes wide, her heart leapt up into her throat as she regained control over the car. The long drive from Beverly Hills, California, was starting to take its toll on her. So eager to get away from Sharon and Warren, she impulsively decided to head to Austin and then up to Dallas, where her mother was born. Without thinking, she packed what she needed, jumped into her brand-new, silver Mercedes-Benz, and didn’t bother looking back. She’d tried to call her father to let him know her plans, but like always, he hadn’t answered, so she left him a message instead.
Delilah shook her head a few times. Her eyes were starting to grow heavier, and her thoughts were drifting into peaceful slumber. She not only needed to locate a gas station, but she needed to find a hotel where she could catch a few hours of sleep and recharge her batteries.
Once again, Delilah felt the heavy pull of exhaustion beckon her. Her eyes grew heavier and heavier. Before she had time to snap herself awake, she veered off the road. Suddenly jarred by the car leaving the asphalt, she awoke with her heart lodged in her throat and panic rippling through her chest.
Unable to prevent it, she crashed into a long line of cattle fencing. Barbed wire ripped across the hood of her car, sounding as if a hundred birds began screaming in unison. The explosion of bursting tires roared in her ears as her car jolted to a stop, slamming against something solid, shattering the windshield, and showering glass fragments in all directions.
Dazed and confused, vision blurry, she reached up and touched her forehead. A beating pulse settled in her head just as she noticed a trickle of blood rolling past her brow and temple. The slow pounding began to intensify when she tried to move, but she couldn’t. She was trapped in the seat. The belt was now squeezing her so tight she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her leg was pinned against the buckled door.
Anxiety began to fill her belly and mind as she realized what had happened. She’d crashed her car hard enough to deploy the airbags, and she was covered in glass and dust. An intense weight overcame her mind, along with a cold chill. Shivering in silence, the blackness took her.
* * * *
Clay Garrett’s eyes narrowed as he stared through the front windshield of his black Suburban and tried to make sense of what he saw up ahead. Flashing hazard lights on a white pickup truck faced him on the wrong side of the road, while a silver sedan seemed to be facing the other direction. The driver of the car must have lost control and knocked down an entire row of cattle fencing.
As he drew nearer, he noticed that the white pickup truck belonged to the Boyd family, and since all three brothers, Tyler, Cooper, and Hunter, drove it, he had no idea who was actually on the scene. He assumed one of them had been out inspecting their property when they came across the car mangled up on their land.
He brought his truck to a complete stop behind the white pickup truck and exited his vehicle. He quickly headed toward the silver Mercedes and noticed Hunter Boyd hovering next to the car. Hunter inclined his head in Clay’s direction, and a sudden wash of relief crossed his face.
“Oh thank God you’re here,” Hunter shouted. “There’s an unconscious woman in the car. She’s bleeding.”
Clay halted, reached into Hunter’s cab, and grabbed hold of the CB handset and called out for backup and emergency medical assistance. Then he slammed the door to the truck and quickly moved to stand alongside Hunter.
“Has she moved at all?”
Hunter gave his head a firm shake and said, “No, but honestly I got here just before
you did. I heard the accident clear across the ranch and came over to check it out. Trust me. I didn’t expect to see this.”
Clay scanned over the damage done to the car and could tell instantly that the driver had been speeding before losing control. The expensive car looked like it was ready for the scrap heap. Folded in wheel wells, broken glass, caved in door panels, blown tires, and heavily nicked paint, the car was going to need a ton of repairs to return it to its “new” condition.
Clay yanked on the driver-side door to open it, but it was locked. “Step back a little. I’m going to break the back window.”
Hunter nodded and took a full step back.
Clay flipped over his black flashlight, the one he always carried at his hip, and slammed the butt of it against the back window, shattering the glass. He reached forward and hit the lock mechanism, and he heard the click release on the door. Jerking with all his might, he cracked it open. The metal of the door scraping against the caved-in fender had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. The magnified sound sent a chill down his spine. Even with the symphony of a million pieces of steel rubbing awkwardly together, he continued to pull, tug, and strain with all his might to get to the injured woman.
Hunter placed his hand on Clay’s shoulder. “Here, let me help,” he said, volunteering to add a little extra manpower to prying open the door.
Together, they were able to wedge the door open enough for Clay to shoulder his way in and kneel beside her. He quickly checked her vitals. To his horror, the woman wasn’t breathing.
