COWBOY ROMANCE: Avery (Western Contemporary Alpha Male Bride Romance) (The Steele Brothers Book 3)

by Amanda Boone

  The speedboat turned as she throttled up, and flew over the water until she disappeared into the night.

  #

  A week later Valente sat at his cousin’s dinner table sipping wine while her husband delivered the latest news.

  “Merska and his entire crew are in prison now,” Leon said as he dug into a thin slice of spumoni cheesecake. “As are the rest of the villains who hijacked your yacht. I will see to it that they stay there until they are very old, harmless men.”

  “I think you should move them to that awful prison down in the south,” his wife said. “You know how the Mafioso are in that place. They’ll be murdered in their sleep – or could you arrange something like that, darling?”

  “You are too blood-thirsty,” Leon said. “But perhaps I should appoint you to run the prisons. They would emptied in a month.”

  “Any word on Ashley?” Valente couldn’t help asking.

  Before Leon answered, Chiara reached over and touched Valente’s hand. “She has likely been reassigned, my dear.” As he stared at her, she nodded. “I knew. They came to me and explained how much danger you were in, and what could I do? I have tried to reach her, but they say it is not permitted.”

  “It’s all right.” He set down his cup. “If she wishes to see me again, she will find me.”

  The door to the dining room flung open, and a tall, refined-looking man with a red face stalked in. “Valente. So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

  He stood and got between the British man and Chiara, and then saw the color of the man’s eyes. They were the same grass-green color that haunted his dreams. “You are Ashley’s father?”

  “Bloody right I am. How could you do those things to my daughter? And let them film it?” He lunged.

  Valente grabbed him, took a few punches to the head and then thrust him away. “You know they would have killed her if I hadn’t. How did you see the video?”

  “Everyone is seeing it.” Ashley’s father dropped into the chair next to Chiara and tossed his mobile onto the table. “It’s on every Internet porn video site now. Can I have some of that wine?”

  “Yes, of course.” As if fist fights were an everyday occurrence at her table, Chiara beckoned to one of the maids clearing the buffet table.

  Valente picked up the mobile and did a search, watching himself assault Ashley for two seconds before he shut it off.

  “What am I going to do now?” Ashley’s father said to Chiara. “It was bad enough when she was just a spy. Now she’s the new James Bondage Girl of the month. No one will marry her. Her mother and I will have to go live on Riviera.”

  “Oh, I still have some prospects, Father,” the maid said as she finished filling his wine glass, and then removed her dark wig. “I’ve had tons of e-mail proposals since the video went live. Not all of them were lewd or lascivious.”

  Valente blinked. “Ashley?”

  “Hello, darling.” She came over to take his hands. “Sorry about the fisticuffs. Take a walk with me?”

  “And, of course, they’re in love.” Her father made a rude sound. “Keep your clothes on this time, young lady.”

  Valente followed Ashley out into the courtyard garden, where she walked to the sparkling fountain and trailed her fingers in the bubbling water.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you about who I am,” she said as she sat down on the bench across from the basin. “I didn’t want to leave you, either, but I had to take Merska into custody. Unfortunately he sent the video of us to his cohorts just before we arrived.”

  “You left me to go back?” Valente dropped down beside her. “Ashley. You could have been killed.”

  “It was my job, darling. I’m very well-trained, as no doubt you saw.” She took his hands in hers. “I usually worked in a very small office in London, where I coordinated missions for other field operatives. I rather liked my job, too.”

  He caught one of her curls and wound it around his finger. “They sent you to protect me because they knew I would be attracted to you.” He frowned. “Wait. Liked?”

  “They’ve given me the sack. Can’t be a spy if you’re on every naughty video site on the Internet.” She wrinkled her nose. “Now, before I go on the dole I should tell you how I feel. I realize that you may be on the fence about the whole thing, or only want me for sex, or hate me, or wish me dead—”

  “Do you know what I want to do to you right now?” he asked softly. When she nodded, he glanced at the villa. “Your father may see us.”

  “I don’t care.” She cradled his face between her hands. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long, Gio. All my life. The life you saved. The life I want to spend with you. I love you.”

  “Bella, there is only one thing I can do about that.” Tenderly he pulled her close, and touched his lips to hers, and kissed her.

  They were still kissing when Chiara, Leon and Ashley’s father came out into the courtyard.

  “Will he marry her, do you think?” Ashley’s father asked, sounding hopeful.

  Chiara smiled at him. “If he doesn’t, I will.” She peered at her husband. “Would you like another wife, darling?”

  THE END

  Rescued by the Cowboy

  Love in Ghost Lake Ranch

  Book 1

  (Can be read as a standalone book)

  By: Amber Duval

  Rescued by the Cowboy

  Chapter One

  The breakfast smells of maple and coffee filled the big dining room at Ghost Lake Ranch, adding to the cozy warmth provided by the crackling flames in the river stone fireplace. The six big men sitting at the battered old farm table didn’t say much as they plowed through huge piles of plate-size blueberry pancakes, thick sausage patties and jam-slathered toast. Running a cattle ranch in the Montana mountains always required plenty of fuel, determination, and stamina, but now that winter had arrived the Boone brothers would be working twice as hard.

  “That monster cold front out west is headed our way,” Ethan Boone said as he filled a thermos with coffee from a white-speckled enamel pot. “Forecast predicts sub-zero temps, and at least three feet of snow before midnight.”

  “Great.” Caleb, his youngest brother, scowled down at his half-eaten stack of pancakes. “There goes the winter rodeo.”

  “You can impress the ladies with your calf-roping after the thaw, boy,” Buck Lloyd, the old trail cook who ruled the ranch’s kitchen, set down a fresh platter of sausage. “Mr. Ethan, I’ve got to head out to my place to look after the wife and grandkids, but there’s enough grub in the freezer to keep you boys fed for a month. I’ll put up a pot of chili in the fridge before I go, too.”

  “Appreciate it, Buck.” Ethan down sat at the long, battered oak table with his brothers. All of the Boones were big men, with broad, muscular frames toughened by years of range riding and stock work. From their father, whose mother had been Cheyenne, they’d inherited jet-black hair and hooded eyes. Thanks to their mother, a talented equestrian who had won dozens of trophies, the brothers had been gifted with a natural affinity for horses.

  Although it had been fifteen years since losing their parents in a car crash, Ethan never forgot what they had taught him. He and his brothers were the fifth generation of Boones at Ghost Lake, and despite the hard work and isolation, they were thriving. Ethan only yearned for a partner with whom he could share it – but these days few women had the desire or the strength to take on ranch life.

  The rising wind outside made a mournful sound, reminding Ethan of the loneliness that came along with the long, cold winter months. After the storm he could take a run into town, where he knew several ladies who would be happy to entertain him for a night – but that was getting old, too. How the hell do I find a woman who can take on Ghost Lake as well as me?

  Ethan pushed aside his loneliness and looked down the table. “All right, boys, you know the drill. Liam, you and Rob prep the stables, barns and cow sheds for the storm. Jonah, take the hands and bring in that herd from the east pastur
e. Chris, ride out with Tom and make sure we don’t have strays in the foothills. Cal, you’ve got the supply run. Pick up the feed order and whatever else we need in town.”

  His brothers acknowledged his orders with a few grunts and nods, but after growing up on the ranch, all the Boones could practically work it in their sleep. Ethan had also earned their respect, not only as their eldest brother but as their boss. Since losing their folks, Ethan had devoted himself to running the ranch, expanding their herds, and improving the quality of their livestock. Ghost Lake now produced some of the finest beef and dairy cattle in the state.

  Once the brothers finished eating, they headed out to work. Only Liam, the second-oldest, stayed behind to have a private word with Ethan about Richard Demesse, their new and troublesome neighbor.

  “I told Dick Dumbass to stop using the pasture access road as a shortcut to his place in winter, but I saw fresh ruts out there yesterday,” Liam said. “I warned him, he gets his Lexus stuck out there in the snow, he’s done, but he won’t listen.”

  Ethan sighed. After a stint as an ordnance expert in the Army, Liam had little patience with fools, but in this case his brother wasn’t overreacting. Demesse had inherited the property adjoining Ghost Lake last year when his grandfather had passed, but had flatly refused to sell it to the Boones. Instead, the attorney had sold off his grandfather’s stock, renovated the old house and moved in. Since then he had repeatedly trespassed on Boone land, spooked the herds by shooting in the woods by their pastures, and otherwise behaved like a snotty, ignorant city slicker.

  “I’ll ride out and padlock the gate.” Ethan didn’t care to be antagonistic toward a neighbor, but if Demesse’s pricey car got mired down in a drift, they probably wouldn’t find his frozen ass until next spring.

  “There’s something else.” Liam’s strong jaw tightened. “One of the hands said he saw Demesse in hardware store last week. Said he had a big order of rope and chain and hoists and the like.”

  Ethan shrugged. “He’s allowed to shop in town.”

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t have any stock. He sold off the last of his granddad’s steers over the summer. Far as I know, he doesn’t even own a dog.” Liam’s jaw tightened. “So what the hell is he tying up?”

  * * *

  Jessa Cooper knew she wasn’t the first woman to be shoved in the trunk of the car. The smell of bleach and new carpeting stung her nose, and the man who had abducted her had done so with the ease of much experience. Now she lay half-naked, her wrists bound with duct tape, and the terror of what awaited her crawled over her skin like bugs made of ice.

  I have to do something.

  When he came to take her, she hadn’t suspected anything. She’d stepped outside to lock up the back door to her animal clinic, and he’d rushed over to her from his expensive luxury car. He’d been so convincing when he’d told her about the wounded dog he’d found in the street, and how afraid he was to move him before she had a look at the poor animal. He’d even produced tears of gratitude when she’d hurried over to his car with him.

  “Thank you so much, Doctor Cooper,” he’d said as he’d unlocked the trunk, and even then she hadn’t realized there was no dog. She’d simply frowned at the empty trunk, completely confused, until the jolt hit her. Everything went dark.

  Cold air slapped Jessa awake some time later, and she woke up to find herself inside the trunk. Her back hurt, and when she lifted her hand to touch her head, the other hand came with it. She looked from the duct tape wound around her wrists to the face of the man standing over her, and felt dread drag her heart to the edge of an abyss. “What have you done?”

  “Lots of terrible, lovely things,” he told her, and tugged at her shoes. “But to you? So far, I’ve only knocked you out.” When she screamed for help he slapped her so hard her ears rang. “Don’t even bother. We’re parked on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. No one can hear you, or save you.”

  “Why are you doing this?” She tasted blood in her mouth and frantically tried to sit up, but he shoved her back down. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “You answered your own question. How clever of you. Now don’t test me again, or I’ll punch you in the face.” He pinned her with one strong arm while he removed her shoes and scrub pants, which he shoved in a plastic bag and dropped on the ground. “There, that’s better. I knew you’d have gorgeous legs.”

  The compliment cut through her pain and confusion like a razor blade, and she realized why he had taken her. Panic made her voice shake as she said, “I don’t even know you.”

  “True, but you will, soon enough. Very, very intimately.” He tapped a manicured finger against his thin lips. “Hmmm. I’d take off your top, too, but I’d have to use the scissors. That really ruins the garment and the memories, so we’ll leave it for now. Okay, we’re ready to go. Rest while you can, Doc, because when we do get to my house, I’m going to have fun with you.” He playfully snapped the elastic band of her panties. “A lot of fun.”

  Jessa felt her stomach heave, and swallowed hard to keep the bile down. “You don’t have to rape me.”

  “Sure I do, for starters,” he said, smiling down at her. “Don’t worry. After a week I usually get bored with the mess and the begging and screaming. That’s when I’ll cut your throat – unless you do something to piss me off, like struggle or try to escape or some other nonsense. Then I’ll chain you in my basement and let the rats have you. It’s a very slow, unpleasant way to die, but I’ll enjoy watching it on the monitor.” He leaned in closer, until she could smell his minty breath. “See, I always do.”

  Jessa knew every word he said was the truth, and that she was looking into the eyes of pure evil. If she couldn’t get away from him, the only escape left would be to kill herself. “Why me?”

  “Why not?” He stepped back and slammed the trunk shut.

  It had been more than an hour since he’d locked her inside, and now Jessa wondered how much time she had left before they reached his house. She could feel the wind buffeting the car growing stronger, and the temperature inside the trunk had dropped from cold to frigid.

  This can’t be how I’m going to die.

  Regret swamped Jessa as she thought of all the things in her life she had put off because of her career. She’d never married or had children; she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been out on a date. Whenever the emptiness of her life had bothered her she’d filled the space with her work. That had helped to make her one of the most successful veterinarians in the city, but now it seemed like a huge waste of her short life.

  If she got away from this monster, that would have to change. But she was never going to get away, and the last days of her life would be spent enduring unthinkable horrors . . . .

  “No. Think, think.” She closed her eyes and tried to remember everything she knew about cars. People usually kept at least a tire iron in their trunk; if she found his, she might use it as a weapon when he tried to take her out.

  Or maybe I should shove the sharp end between my ribs. Thanks to her training, Jessa knew exactly where to stab herself to drive something into her heart. But could she really commit suicide? She thought of what he’d said about the basement and the rats, and shuddered. Absolutely I can commit suicide . . . but maybe I won’t have to.

  The new carpeting he had installed on the trunk floor had been badly cut to fit, and the edges curled over in some spots. She spotted a bulge and gripped one edge to pull it back, hoping to see something she could use. It turned out to be a plastic greenish-yellow tab that glowed faintly. Jessa was about to let go of the carpet when she peered closer at the tab and saw little black symbols on it. It was also attached to something inside the bottom of the trunk.

  She pulled on it carefully, and nothing happened. The second time she tried it she heard a faint click next to her cheek, and turned her head to stare at the trunk latch. Holding her breath, she jerked the tab harder, and the latch released.

  As the trunk opened, a bur
st of snowy wind hit her face.

  Chapter Two

  Frigid air stung Ethan’s nose as he retrieved the big padlock from his saddlebag. He also fished a piece of apple cookie from his pocket to feed to his mare, Rosie. As she crunched, he stroked her strong neck and eyed the wide, dark bank of clouds rolling in from the west. “Last job of the day, girl. From here we head home.”

  The paint horse snorted and shook her head as if she didn’t believe him.

  As Ethan locked the gate to the access road, he glanced down and saw fresh tire tracks in the snow. Pushing back his hat, he gazed down the road. He couldn’t see Demesse’s big white car, but there was an odd-looking pit in the snow bank halfway down the fence line, and a trail of footsteps leading into the pasture.

  Had the attorney broken down and tried to walk out in the wrong direction? Ethan scanned the snow until he spotted tracks.

  “That idiot.” He mounted Rosie and rode toward the trail. It led from the snow bank across the pasture, and appeared to stretch all the way to the pine grove, which was a good mile away.

  If Richard Demesse had walked that far wearing his usual outfit – one of his designer suits – he was probably half-frozen already. Tempted as Ethan was to leave him out there in the woods, with the storm only an hour away, it would be an automatic death sentence.

  “All right, Rosie, one more job. Let’s go rescue the dumbass.” He wheeled the mare toward the grove and urged her into a quick lope across the snowy pasture.

  Along the way he noticed how small the tracks were, and frowned. The attorney had damned tiny feet for a man, Ethan decided – but at least they matched his brains. Once he reached the tree line, the trail grew fainter and the tracks longer, as if Demesse had been dragging himself along.

  “Richard?” Ethan shouted, and peered through the trees. “Call out if you can hear me.”