The Cowgirl's Little Secret

by Silver James

  He swallowed hard. “Do you have a phone, or do you need to use mine?”

  She took a swig of soda, managing to look entirely comfortable and yet ladylike. “Why do I need a phone?”

  “To call the authorities?” Her artless stonewalling scraped his nerves. Was she deliberately tormenting him?

  Cassidy wrinkled her small, perfect nose. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea. This is sort of a family squabble.”

  His gut tightened. “As in the mob?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Good grief, no.”

  “Are you married to the guy?” She wasn’t wearing a ring, but that didn’t mean anything. The scene he had interrupted could have been a domestic dispute.

  Cassidy stared at him. Her lips were painted the same deep red as her toenails. “I’m not married,” she said, enunciating each word carefully. “I don’t have a significant other. I’m entirely unencumbered. And I don’t have to be anywhere until ten in the morning.”

  The look she gave him tightened the back of his neck...and other body parts. Still, caution won out. “Are you a working girl?” he asked. In Vegas it could be hard to tell. Cassidy Corelli more than lived up to male fantasy, but she seemed awfully young.

  She pursed her lips, suddenly looking more like a schoolmarm than a woman for hire. “I work,” she muttered, glaring at him. “But not like that. I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.”

  “How old are you?” In other circumstances, he would never ask such personal questions, but he also didn’t want to contribute to the delinquency of a minor.

  “I’m twenty-three,” she said flatly, erasing most of his misgivings.

  “Good.”

  She cocked her head. “Why is that good?”

  He gave her a gentle smile. “Because if I follow up on your invitation, I want to make sure I don’t end up in jail.”

  “What invitation?” she asked, feigning innocence, though in those huge expressive eyes, feminine excitement lingered.

  His customary distrust of unknown women cautioned him to slow down. But Cassidy was light and warmth and spontaneity, all the things that were missing from his life. He was irresistibly drawn to her vibrant personality like the proverbial moth to a flame. But he’d been burned once...badly. So the doubts remained.

  “Don’t be coy. A woman doesn’t outline her relationship status quite so succinctly unless she wants a man to know the score.”

  “Ah.” Cassidy popped a nut into her mouth and chewed it slowly before swallowing and taking another sip of her drink. “Why don’t you gamble?” she asked.

  The non sequitur caught him off guard. He shrugged. “I’m good at math. But the house always wins. I prefer to control the outcome.”

  She gave a mock shiver. “So intense. I like that in a man.”

  “Is that why you were hanging around with Bozo the Bruiser?”

  “Trust me,” she said. “There’s nothing romantic there.”

  “What were you arguing about?”

  “I’d rather not discuss it.”

  “You’re willing to have sex with a stranger, but you won’t answer a simple question?”

  She tossed her head and stood up, cheeks flushing. “Who said I’m willing to have sex?”

  He gazed at her intently, letting her see the arousal that had built since he looked her over in the elevator. “No games, Cass. You tossed out a pretty blatant lure. Stay or go. Your choice.”

  * * *

  Cassidy shivered inwardly. Gavin Kavanagh was a man, not a boy. He’d rescued her from what he thought was a dangerous situation, not pausing to consider the consequences. Though she was more than capable of taking care of herself, Gavin’s masculine assurance triggered all sorts of non-PC feminine emotions.

  He was a beautiful man. Tall and broad...exuding confidence. The combination made her damp in places she’d rather not ponder. His streaky brownish-blond hair was short and spiky, not expertly styled, but like a man who didn’t care to fool with anything he considered a waste of time.

  His gray eyes with the hint of blue were cool and distant at the moment. “Which is it?” The question was rife with masculine demand.

  “Grumpy, grumpy, grumpy.” She wanted more time to think about this, but if she let the moment pass, she would never see him again. She was tired of being her father’s good little girl. Everyone expected her to live like a nun. And she had. But why? Her whole life was about work, work, work, and earning the love that should be a gift.

  She’d been edgy and stressed for weeks now, arguing with her brother and going head-to-head with her father. Perhaps if she’d had a mother, she could have talked frankly about the fact that she felt like the world’s oldest virgin. About her choice to wait for the right man. And the fact that she’d never even met a guy who honestly tempted her.

  Being raised in Vegas had exposed her to a whole lot of mature situations that gave her an insight into all kinds of adult behavior. But it also took some of the bloom off the rose when it came to romance. She was probably holding out for a fantasy that didn’t even exist except in books and movies.

  She took a deep breath, feeling a funny spin in the pit of her stomach. To hell with her status as the firstborn who never strayed from the straight and narrow. She could blame Gavin for her sexual epiphany, but truthfully, this moment had been coming for a long time. She’d been saving herself for some unknown white knight, but surprisingly, the tarnished armor of a gruff, no-nonsense, make-my-day kind of guy punched all her buttons.

  Though it took a measure of courage and nonchalance she wasn’t sure she could pull off, she went to him and perched on his lap, curling one arm around his neck. “You could kiss me. It might help me make up my mind.”

  A firm hand gripped her hip. He smelled amazing. Woodsy cologne and warm male skin. She wanted things from him. Wild things. Wicked things. And that was saying a lot for a girl who had grown up in sin city.

  “I should toss you out on your butt,” he muttered. “You’re a menace to the male sex.”

  “Really?” Could he be telling the truth?

  “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

  The suspicion in his hard eyes was perhaps warranted, but it stung. “Don’t be that way,” she said. Putting a hand to his stubbly cheek, she smiled wistfully. “I’ll go if you want me to. But I’d really like to stay.”

  He made her wait a miserably long time. Maybe thirty seconds. Or more. She actually felt the moment she won the standoff. Though she was technically on top, Gavin took control right out of the gate. One big hand settled in the curls at the back of her head, pulling her down until his lips could reach hers.

  “Gavin...” She had no idea what she meant to say. When his mouth settled over hers, her brain short-circuited. He was a great kisser. World-class. On a scale of one to ten, a thirteen. The only unlucky thing about that number was that they were both fully dressed.

  He took his time, drawing attention to the fact that her experience was limited at best. Unapologetic, he slid his tongue into her mouth, mimicking the act they both wanted.

  When she was starved for oxygen, he pulled back, his heavy-lidded gaze searching hers. “I don’t know why you’re here,” he said gruffly, with perhaps the slightest note of accusation in his voice.

  “I can leave.” It would probably be best if she did. What had started as a personal declaration of independence suddenly seemed far more serious.

  “Do you do this often?”

  The insinuation infuriated her. “No,” she snapped. “How about you?”

  He grinned. “Never. Maybe we’re experiencing Vegas madness. I’ve heard about it.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” she sniffed. “I’m a native.”

  “And I’m a novice.”

  “You’re not a novice anyth
ing,” she said drily. “But I could show you the sights if you’re interested.”

  “I fly home tomorrow.”

  “We have tonight.” She was skating a fine line between taking what she wanted and being totally reckless. But after four years of college and two years of grad school without a break, she wanted to know how it felt to be a woman. In every way.

  He toyed with the neckline of her dress. The feel of his slightly rough fingertips on her bare skin made her nipples pebble. “The only sights I’m interested in at the moment are in this room.”

  The words were flat. Unadorned with emotion. The blaze in his eyes more than made up for it. So much so that she almost chickened out. To him, she had been a damsel in distress. He had acted honorably, protecting her from a perceived enemy. Only a man with high moral standards did that...right?

  She’d always been a good judge of character. It was a necessary skill growing up in Vegas, particularly when your family had a lot of money. Every gut instinct she possessed told her that Gavin Kavanagh was one of the good guys. He was leaving in the morning. Was there any point in starting something that would never amount to anything more?

  Playing by the rules was a first-child burden. Good grades, never breaking curfew, always trying to satisfy the parental units. Tonight she was damned if she was going to miss out on something incredible because she was too afraid to take a walk on the wild side.

  “I’d like to take a shower.” The follow-up didn’t need to be spelled out.

  “May I join you?”

  So polite. But it wasn’t really a question. She swallowed hard. “I suppose.”

  He shifted her out of his lap onto her feet. Her legs felt like overcooked pasta and her heartbeat was none too steady.

  “I like your hair.” He ruffled his hand through it, mussing the style.

  Every time she thought she had him pinned down, he surprised her. Men in general had little patience when it came to sexual gratification. At least the ones she knew. Gavin, on the other hand, possessed remarkable restraint.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Don’t get shy now.” He chuckled, taking her hand and leading her across the thick carpet that made her toes curl.

  The bathroom was palatial and decadent. She spared a glance for the hot tub, but Gavin shook his head. “Later.”

  He turned the faucet control in the glass enclosure. Triple showerheads sprouted streams of water. “Last chance.”

  They were both still fully clothed except for her shoes. Though he might not like it, she knew she could turn around and leave the suite. He wouldn’t chase after her. Her confidence wavered. Was she really about to get stark naked with a handsome stranger in his opulent shower stall?

  She spared a glance in the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman who stood there. “Do you have any wine?”

  “Needing a bit of Dutch courage, are we?”

  “Don’t make fun of me,” she said. “You’re an intimidating man.”

  “Which is why you insisted on coming to my room and throwing yourself at me.”

  Hot color swept from her throat to her hairline. From where he was standing, it must have seemed that way. How could she explain that he had dazzled her without even trying? “You’ll be disappointed if you think I’m a pro.”

  “I thought we already established that you’re not a pro.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I haven’t done this kind of thing.”

  “Sex? Or seduction?”

  “I have not seduced you,” she said primly, secretly charmed that he thought she could.

  He nodded briefly, his firm lips curved in a sensual smile. “I’ll admit to being predisposed. You’re a very appealing woman.”

  The die was cast. “How about fetching us some of that wine while I get undressed?”

  Copyright © 2015 by Janice Maynard

  ISBN-13: 9781460379479

  The Cowgirl’s Little Secret

  Copyright © 2015 by Silver James

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com