Donovan's Bed: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 1

by Debra Mullins

  She bit her lip to keep from crying out. His face was so close that she could see clearly how much he relished her terror, and she resolved not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg for her life.

  Whatever atrocities he committed on her person, if she just stayed alive, then Jack would find her.

  “Sarah, you always were stubborn.” He grabbed her hair and jerked her head back, the gun pressing against the vulnerable flesh under her chin. “You can keep being stubborn if you want, but it won’t do you any good in the end.”

  “Why don’t you just take the plates and go, Luke?” she whispered. “You know they’re going to come looking for me.”

  “They’d kill me as soon as I hit the trail. But as long as I have you, darlin’, they’ll have to give me safe passage.”

  “The search party could be here at any minute,” she pointed out. “What if they surround the cabin?”

  Luke just laughed. “No one in this backward town is smart enough to find us. The only one who ever managed to outwit me was your dear, departed father.”

  “I found you,” she said.

  “But I wanted you to find me.” He tugged at the tie of her braid; then he combed his fingers through her loosened hair, spreading it over her shoulders. “You’re not as smart as you think you are. After all, I fooled you three years ago, didn’t I?”

  “Yes,” she agreed bitterly. “You did.”

  He stepped back, finally removing the revolver from her abdomen and uncocking it. “You know, you were right, darlin’. You look very tantalizing like this, in your undergarments with your hair loose. It lets the anticipation build. I’ll have my supper now, Sarah.” He gave her a hard look that made her skin prickle with disgust. “And then I’ll have you.”

  Horace Plunkett’s old shack looked deserted, except for the wispy curl of smoke that flowed from the small chimney. Donovan gathered the men together.

  “After I get Sarah, then you all go for Petrie. Surround the building. I don’t want him getting away.”

  Everyone nodded, and Donovan turned toward the shack. Keeping to the shadows, he soundlessly crept closer. Petrie wasn’t stupid; except for the smoke, it was impossible to tell that anyone was here. He’d closed all the shutters on the windows, and no doubt he had his horse tied up in the trees nearby. But the shack was old, and it hadn’t been well-built to begin with. Donovan hugged the wall and came up beneath a window where the shutters didn’t close all the way. There was just enough space between the warped wood for him to see into the cabin.

  A small fire burned in the grate. Near it, Petrie lounged on his bedroll, his revolver pointed at Sarah, who was cooking something over the fire. Aside from the fact that she was in her undergarments, she seemed unharmed.

  He intended to see that she stayed that way.

  Sarah stirred the stew in the pot, but every instinct was centered on Luke. He acted as if he had all the time in the world, but she wouldn’t put it past him to pounce when she least expected it. The waiting was making her nerves raw.

  It had been over an hour since Susannah had escaped. She had to have gotten back to town by now. And Jack must be on his way. Sarah had to believe that. And because she believed that, she planned to turn the tables on Luke Petrie and get away before he decided it was time to end her life.

  She stirred the stew one more time and then banged the metal spoon on the side of the pot to get every drop off the utensil.

  “Is supper ready?” Luke drawled. The smug expression on his face echoed the light of malice in his eyes.

  “Yes, it’s ready.” She wrapped a cloth around the handle and took the pot off the fire with both hands.

  “Good. I’m starved.” Luke sat up, resting the revolver on the ground beside him within easy reach of his hand.

  Sarah smiled, then flung the contents of the pot at her former lover’s face. He shrieked with pain, raking the scalding stew away from his eyes with his fingers. Sarah dove for the gun, but he anticipated her and knocked it aside with one blind swing of his hand. It skittered across the hard-packed dirt to the far corner of the room. She scrabbled after it.

  Cursing beneath his breath, Luke lunged at her just as her fingers brushed the stock of the gun. She landed hard on her stomach, Petrie on top of her, just as something crashed through the window. She felt the gun beneath her hand and managed to close her fingers around it even as Luke grabbed her wrist.

  He jerked her arm toward him, and she rolled with the motion, coming to rest with the gun an inch from his nose and her finger on the trigger.

  He froze.

  “Get off me,” she snapped. For a moment she thought he was going to ignore her. His face, reddened from the hot stew and still dripping broth, tightened in an expression of thwarted fury. “Off,” she insisted, pressing the barrel of the gun right up against his forehead. “Or I’ll shoot you first and then shove your dead carcass off me!”

  “I suggest you listen to the lady,” a familiar voice said. Looking like an outlaw in his long duster and black hat, Donovan, his eyes hard and deadly, aimed his rifle at Petrie.

  “Who the hell are you?” Luke demanded.

  “I’m the one with the gun. Now get off the lady.”

  Glowering, Luke pushed himself back onto his haunches. Sarah slid out from beneath him, holding her gun steady. It would be just like Petrie to grab her as a hostage to try and get past Jack. Once she had regained her feet, she continued to aim the weapon at Petrie’s head.

  “Sarah,” Donovan said, “I’ve got him covered. The cabin is surrounded. He’s not going anywhere.”

  Sarah didn’t look away from Luke. Her arms started to shake, but she held the gun steady with both hands. “Is Susannah all right?”

  “We found her. Jedidiah took her to Doc Mercer’s.” He lowered his rifle and came to her, keeping an eye on Petrie. “She’s going to be all right.”

  “He was going to kill her. He was going to kill Suzie.”

  “But he didn’t.” Holding the rifle with one hand, Jack closed his other hand over hers where she gripped the revolver. “Sarah, give me the gun.”

  “He was going to kill me, too,” she whispered.

  “Look at me, sassy girl.”

  “I can’t. He’ll get away.”

  “He’s not going anywhere.” He squeezed her fingers beneath his. “Sarah, you’ve fought so hard not to bring violence into our lives. Don’t give up now.”

  She closed her eyes and released the gun to his grasp. “You’re right. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Donovan pulled her into his arms. “Survival, sassy girl. But luckily, you didn’t have to cross that line today.”

  “Oh God, Jack, I would have shot him. I planned to shoot him.” She buried her face in his shoulder, shuddering from the storm of emotions that suddenly washed over her.

  Still holding the rifle, he slid one strong arm around her. “Hush now, sweetheart,” Donovan murmured, slipping the revolver into the pocket of his duster. “He’s not going to hurt anyone anymore.”

  A soft scuffle reached her ears. Donovan obviously heard it at the same time, because he shoved her behind him as Luke charged. In a blur of motion, Jack raised his rifle and fired. The shot caught Petrie in the shoulder, sending him tumbling backward to land slumped against the wall.

  “Stupid,” Donovan said.

  Pressing a hand to his bloody wound, Luke glared. “Who the hell are you?”

  Sarah stepped from behind him to glare at Luke. “You can call him Blade.” The fear that filled Luke’s eyes gave her much satisfaction.

  “Sweetheart, why don’t you get dressed and then stick your head outside and get the men in here,” Donovan suggested. He sighted down the barrel of the rifle, his target Luke’s chest. “I’ll keep an eye on Petrie.”

  “Don’t leave me here with him!” Luke screamed, terrified.

  Donovan glanced at Sarah, a twinkle in his eye. “Go ahead, sweetheart. As long as he doesn’t move, he’ll still be
alive when you get back.”

  Sarah averted her face so that Luke didn’t see the grin she couldn’t suppress as she headed for her discarded clothing. “Then can we go home?” she asked, sounding exasperated.

  Donovan smiled, his dark eyes tender. “You bet we can, sassy girl.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Glowing with the pleasure of being home, Sarah snuggled closer to Donovan beneath the wedding ring quilt on his enormous bed. His arms tightened around her, and his hand stroked possessively over her naked hip.

  “It feels as if we were apart forever, but it was only seven days,” she murmured.

  “It was seven days too long,” Donovan replied. “I couldn’t sleep without you, sassy girl.”

  She shifted up onto her elbow so that she could see his face. His hair was a dark tangle and his morning beard shadowed his jaw, making him look quite disreputable. But she knew better. Jack Donovan was the most honorable of men, despite his notorious past.

  “I’m sorry for doubting you—for doubting us,” she said, brushing the cowlick from his temple. “I was so worried about your past coming back to haunt us, yet it was my past that almost ruined everything.”

  Donovan took her hand and held it against his heart. “Don’t fret about it anymore, sweetheart. Petrie is in custody, and Jedidiah is going to make sure he doesn’t slip out of the hangman’s noose this time. He should have swung months ago for murdering your father.”

  “But I was wrong not to trust you to protect us.”

  “We were both wrong. I tried to forget my life as Blade, but you were right when you said that I couldn’t just put it aside. It doesn’t work that way.” He threaded his fingers through her loosened hair. “You know, we’ll probably argue some more over the next fifty years or so.”

  “Probably,” she agreed.

  “But sweetheart, I don’t think I could stand it if you ever left me again.”

  His voice roughened at the end, and she leaned forward to kiss him. “That will never happen,” she promised, undone by the love she saw simmering in his eyes. “I’ve learned that you and I are stronger together than we are apart. Together, we can get through anything.”

  “I was used to being alone,” he murmured, tracing a finger down her cheek.

  “You’ll never be alone again. You’re a part of this town, Jack Donovan. And you’re a part of me.”

  Their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss that echoed the powerful emotions of their hearts.

  Then Donovan leered and patted her bottom. “I like being a part of you, sassy girl.”

  “Jack!” She blushed despite herself.

  “In fact, I think I’d like to be a part of you again.” With a playful growl, he rolled over, trapping her beneath his fully aroused body. “And again and again.”

  She pressed her hands against his chest and grinned up at him. “I knew you were dangerous the first moment I saw you.”

  “Lucky for you.”

  “Very lucky for me.” She linked her arms around his neck and arched her brows coquettishly. “So, I hear you’re the best around with a blade. Feel like demonstrating?”

  The slow, wolfish grin that spread across his face made her heart leap and her blood thunder through her veins. “My pleasure, sassy girl.”

  Epilogue

  NEW FOUNDER’S DAY CELEBRATION BRINGS PROSPERITY TO BURR

  The Burr Chronicle—June 15, 1883

  This year, the town council’s idea to have local residents dress up as famous Western legends proved a huge success. Present at the Founder’s Day Festival were Nate Pearson and George Tillis as Frank and Jesse James, Jacob Mercer as Billy the Kid, Harve Heinman as Sheriff Pat Garrett, and Matt Gomez as the bounty hunter Blade.

  To the thrill of the spectators, a mock bank robbery by the James brothers and Billy the Kid was foiled by Pat Garrett and Blade. Our heroes performed great feats of horsemanship and sharpshooting. This new addition to the festival brought people from miles around, making it the most successful Founder’s Day Festival in the history of the town.

  About the Author

  Debra Mullins is the award-winning author of historical and paranormal romances. When not writing, she is reading or traveling or working on her family tree—sometimes all at the same time. Born and raised in the New York/New Jersey area, she now lives in California with her family, where she doesn’t miss snowstorms in the least and optimistically continues her search for real pizza. Visit her at:

  Website: www.debramullins.com

  Email: deb@debramullins.com

  Twitter: @debramullins

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Debra-Mullins/161717291054

  Look for these titles by Debra Mullins

  Now Available:

  Once a Mistress

  Coming Soon:

  The Lawman’s Surrender

  Her love will capture the ultimate treasure–his heart.

  Once a Mistress

  © 2011 Debra Mullins

  Diana Covington is a dutiful daughter with a boring future all mapped out for her. A shipping fortune and lush Jamaican estate that will someday be hers, a husband of her father’s choice. Romance and Caribbean adventure exist only in her dreams, in which the Black Spaniard, El Moreno, plays a starring role.

  Until she is kidnapped by the evil pirate, Marcus, and her girlish fantasies quickly turn to nightmares.

  Alex Rawnsley’s dark Spanish looks makes him the perfect choice to take on the identity of El Moreno. His mission is to bring Marcus to justice, but his heart thirsts for blood. Vengeance for his brother’s murder is within his grasp when Diana’s kidnapping throws a hitch in his strategy.

  Snatching her from Marcus’s clutches is easy enough, but what to do with her now? He cannot return her home lest she be taken again. He has no choice but to keep the distracting, innocent beauty aboard his ship. In his cabin. In his bed. The temptation to make her his own grows stronger by the hour…but opening his heart to love may forever close the door on his quest for revenge.

  Warning: Contains sweeping, high-seas adventure, a feisty heroine who doesn’t let maidenly innocence stop her from unbuckling the hero’s swash, and a hero who finds himself walking the plank of love.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Once a Mistress:

  “I need your help.”

  “Do you?” She bent to examine a piece of torn lace hanging from the hem of her gown.

  “I must get into the ballroom.”

  She glanced up at him sharply. “Why?”

  He hesitated. “I would rather not say. I thought that since I helped you out of a difficult situation—”

  “You bounder!” She straightened so fast he expected to hear her spine snap. “You used me!”

  A disavowal hovered on his lips, but she continued before he could express it.

  “I thought you were being chivalrous…” She pressed her lips together, as if she had betrayed a confidence. “Is that the only reason you aided me? To make me so grateful that I would help you get into the house?”

  “Of course not…”

  “And what do you intend to do once you have gained entrance to my home? Steal the silver?”

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered, exasperated.

  “I will bid you good evening, sir. And I will be sure to alert the servants that there is a trespasser on the grounds!” She spun away from him in a swath of upswept skirts and bouncing curls.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. His own temper simmered as he recalled how he had risked discovery to help her. His very life hung in the balance.

  “You ungrateful wench,” he growled. “I just saved you from losing your virtue to that strutting popinjay, and this is how you thank me? What would you do if I had saved you from drowning, toss me overboard?”

  “Do not be ridiculous.” She tugged at her arm. Unable to break his grip, she sent him a look of cold fury. “I would tie the anchor to your feet first.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “That mouth of
yours will get you into trouble.”

  “Not as much trouble as you will have when I scream.”

  As she opened her mouth to carry out her threat, Alex pulled her close and stopped the cry with a kiss.

  The taste of her exploded through him, as exhilarating as standing barefoot on deck while a storm rocked his ship. He rediscovered the thrill of pitting his wits and his will against an impressive force of nature as he held this spirited young woman in his arms. With such a woman a man could be tempted to forsake even that most demanding of mistresses, the sea.

  The idea so unsettled him that he jerked away from Diana as if she were the devil’s own daughter. She stared at him with eyes the color of storm clouds. A flush graced her cheeks, and her lips, moist from his kiss, parted.

  He wanted her, but he could not have her. He retreated behind the rakish facade that had always served him well.

  “Now that was surely a proper show of gratitude, my sweet,” he quipped. “But despite your lusty eagerness I must take my leave. Mayhap we will meet again.” He ignored the shock that swept across her features and sketched a mocking bow. It was better for both of them if he disappeared from her life. Turning away from her, he melted into the night.

  A love that defies the ocean. A secret deeper than blood.

  Lakota Princess

  © 2012 Karen Kay

  Lakota, Book 2

  Driven from her home in England by hostile political forces, Estrela was little more than a girl when she came to be raised by a far western Lakota tribe. On the wide, sweeping plains she grew tall and strong, and won the love of a handsome warrior.

  But on the eve of their marriage, she is torn away from her native family, torn from the man she loves, and forced to return to a place that feels more like a foreign country than her home. There she merely exists, haunted by her love’s sweet kisses and heated embrace, yearning for his unforgettable touch.