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Cosmic Impact, Aferrum Brotherhood Series (Sci–Fi M/M romance)
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Hot Highlanders & Wild Warriors (Anthology from Cleis Press)
A Cowboy’s Seduction
Cynthia D’Alba
Copyright © 2014
Cynthia D’Alba and Riante, Inc.
All Rights Reserved
Dedication
For Tina Reiter and Jessica Sheehan of the D’Alba Diamonds. A thousand thank yous for your beta reads and excellent suggestions and edits. And a special thank you to Tina for all your ass kicking and pushing me while I wrote this.
For Sandi Jones and Angela Campbell. There are no better critique partners in the world. Thank you helping keep my deadline.
Book Description
One exhausted cowboy + One uptight account x A tropical resort = A hot seduction. But who is seducing whom?
A Cowboy’s Seduction, Book One, Ace in the Hole Series
Brock Wade has raised his brothers and sister since their parents’ deaths fourteen years ago. All work and no vacation can make a cowboy a tad grumpy, or at least that’s what his family and crew believe. Brock wants to spend the two weeks before Christmas working as usual. Instead he’s forced by his siblings to take a vacation to the Sand Castle Resort…a vacation he doesn’t want to a Caribbean resort he’s never heard of. He’s sure he’ll be miserable the whole time.
Natalie Diamond is dreaming of getting out of icy Memphis and down to her parents’ oceanfront condo for a couple of weeks of rest and warmth. When her parents accept an out–of–town invitation, she’s sure she’ll be stuck at home watching it sleet and snow. But instead of leaving Natalie shivering, her parents send her on an all–expense paid trip to the Sand Castle Resort.
A casual friendship over drinks rapidly evolves into a hot seduction, which is great until feelings get involved. When vacation is over, Brock and Natalie are forced to make the difficult decision to walk away or see where life might lead them.
But falling in love in two weeks isn’t possible. Right?
Discover more titles by Cynthia D’Alba at
www.cynthiadalba.com
Chapter One
Natalie Diamond’s eardrums throbbed in rhythm to the slap of her windshield wipers struggling to keep the falling sleet from coating the car’s glass. She flipped the radio off; she couldn’t it hear over the ice pings and cuffing wiper blades anyway. Plus, with all the crazy Memphis drivers whipping in and out of traffic as though it were a beautiful spring day instead of a dreary icy December evening, she needed the quiet to concentrate. When she’d divorced Tim, he’d kept the house in Southern California and she’d moved back home to Memphis. She’d been mentally prepared for the sweltering summer heat but this unusual ice storm, so close to Christmas, hadn’t been on her radar.
Through the fogged–up windshield, the red taillights of the car in front of her comprised the vast majority of her total visibility. Shoving her left hand into the pocket on the driver’s door, she blindly searched for something to wipe off the windshield haze. Her fingers snagged a used napkin from her last drive–through meal. Leaning forward, she wiped at the glass over the steering wheel. Bright red opaque smears replaced the hazy fog.
Great. Now the windshield inside looked like the set for Texas Chainsaw Massacre III–or were they up to four or five by now?
Natalie dropped the used napkin with the open ketchup packet to the floor between her feet and began rubbing at the mess with her gloved hand. All that accomplished was to smear the mess more while staining her best pair of gloves.
Super. Between the crappy weather and her intelligence–lacking boss, this really had been the day from hell. The only thing keeping her from jumping from the Memphis Bridge into the Mississippi was the upcoming two sun–filled weeks of vacation with her parents in Florida.
By the time she turned on Cherry Lane, tension tied stone–hard knots in her shoulders and neck. She slid to a stop at the mailbox and lowered her window just low enough to shove her arm out, allowing tiny shards of ice to jump down her sleeve. She pulled out green and red envelopes stuffed, she was sure, with jolly holiday greetings. After parking, she dragged plastic market bags from the passenger seat floorboard onto the front seat, dropped the mail and her purse into one of the sacks and then slipped the sacks over her wrist like a collection of bracelets. Then she made a mad dash for the door. Jumping icy puddles and an accumulation of muck on the sidewalk, Natalie leapt up the stairs to get under the porch roof.
Water slung off the tip of her blonde ponytail when she swung her head side–to–side. The grocery bags slithered off her arms onto the wooden porch as she dug the keys from her front pants pocket. After unlocking the door she propped it open, pushed the groceries through with her foot, and then kicked it back shut. Leaving her wet shoes and ruined gloves on the entrance rug, she made her way through the living room toward the kitchen for a much needed two–fingers of bourbon, scanning the return addresses on the envelopes as she walked. Lots of Christmas cards. A few bills. Nothing here that couldn’t wait.
She poured two fingers of Maker’s Mark, studied the level and then poured a little more. Natalie toasted having survived the day and lifted the thin rim of the glass to her lips.
Her house phone rang just as the first delicious dram of whiskey slid down her throat. She leaned over and snatched up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hi, honey. It’s mom.”
Natalie settled in for a long chat, which was typical for talks with Sissy Diamond. “Hi Mom. How’s the weather down there?”
“Beautiful. Close to eighty today. I don’t know why your father and I waited so long to move.” She sighed. “Should have done this ten years before.”
Natalie chuckled. “Yes, I know. You tell me that every time you call. I’m looking forward to soaking up some of your sun next week.”
“Oh, honey. That’s why I called. You remember the Duncans, right? Lee and Joey? Well, they were scheduled to go on a holiday Mediterranean cruise with the Freemans next door. Well, poor Lee had a heart attack last night and now they can’t go and the Freemans asked if we wanted to go in Joey and Lee’s place. Isn’t that marvelous? Not Lee’s heart attack, of course, but you know I’ve always wanted to see Greece, which is one of the stops, so your father and I just had to say yes. I told your father that you would understand.”
“So, you’re going to be gone Christmas and New Year’s?” Natalie’s heart sank. No Florida. No sun. No heat to melt her frozen toes.
“Yes. Isn’t it thrilling! I know you were coming down but with all the friends you have in Memphis, I told your father you’d never miss us.”
Her mother’s voice was giddy with excitement. What could Natalie say? She wouldn’t throw a wet blanket on her mother’s joy. She glanced outside. Maybe an ice blanket might be a better analogy.
“You definitely have to go, Mom. You can’t miss this chance. What’s Dad having to say about it?”
“Oh, you know your father. He’d sit in his recliner and watch sports all day if I let him.”
Natalie chuckled. “Yeah, I know Dad. So when do you leave?”
“Three days! I’ve got so much to do before then. I don’t have any clothes that’ll work for a cruise.”
Her mother’s closet rods groaned from the weight of all the clothes hung there. Natalie suspected her mother had an appropriate wardrobe for any occasion, but then shopping was one of her mother’s favorite activities.
“Sounds like fun, Mom. Wish I could be there to shop with you.”
“Me, too. I’d better run. I dropped your Christmas present in the mail to you this morning. You should have it tomorrow. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Natalie glanced toward the wrapped presents for her parents. “Your gifts are here. I was bringing them with me. I could mail them to you, I guess.”
“Don’t bother. We’ll come up in the spring and have a nice get together.”
“Sure, sure. Well, have fun. Tell Dad hi for me.”
Natalie blew out a long breath after she hung up the phone. Damn. She was stuck here for Christmas, not that she didn’t have a gang of friends to hang with. She did. She just didn’t want to. She wanted sun and warmth, not cold and dreary.
Sleet clicked on her bedroom window glass like long fingernails. Natalie snuggled deeper into her flannel sheets and tucked the heavy blanket under her chin. As she was dropping back off, her eyes flew open and searched for the clock. Good lord. Eight–thirty. She was late for work.
But even as the thought passed through her brain, she remembered she was on vacation until after the first of the year. Settling back in, she closed her eyes. A month away from the office before all hell broke loose in January with tax returns. Being an accountant was something she enjoyed, even if she didn’t particularly like where she worked or her boss. She loved the numbers because, for her, they made sense and always added up. Unlike, say, her love life.
But damn. Even she realized that being an accountant was boring. What was that old joke? What does an accountant use for birth control? Her personality. Yep. That was her. Smart but dull. Predictable and staid.
She was drifting off, dreaming of some mysterious man who would sweep her away from her crazy boss and spice up her predictable life when her doorbell rang. Rolling over, she decided to ignore it.
Bing Bong! Then, knock, knock, knock.
She pulled the pillow over her head.
Bing Bong! Pound, pound, pound.
“Fine,” she muttered, tossing the covers back. “I’m up.”
After a fast stop for a heavy robe and fluffy slippers, she shuffled to the door.
“Good morning,” a young man dressed in a FedEx uniform said. “I have a delivery that requires a signature.”
Frigid air rushed in to replace the warmth. After she signed the electronic signature pad, he handed her a priority envelope. “Have a good day.”
She locked the door and looked at the return address. Her parents. Right. Her mother said she was sending a Christmas present. Whatever it was could wait until Natalie got her coffee going. Knowing her mother, it was undoubtedly a sizable gift card to some department store. Sissy Diamond was always trying to spruce up Natalie’s wardrobe.
Her house shoes slapped against the wood flooring as she made her way into the kitchen. She pulled the coffee beans from the cabinet, ground them and got the coffee dripping. It was only then that she sat down at the kitchen table and ripped open the FedEx envelope. A letter in her mother’s handwriting slipped out.
Dear Natalie– Your father and I know how much you were looking forward to getting out of Memphis and down to Florida for some beach time. Even though our plans have changed for this year, we didn’t want you to miss out on the sun. I know how you love your tans.
Not exactly. It was her mother who loved to tan. Natalie loved to stay under the umbrella with a book.
So surprise! We are sending you on an all–expense–paid vacation to the Sand Castle Resort in the Caribbean. You fly out of Memphis on December fourteenth and return on December twenty–fourth. That gives you two days to go buy some island appropriate clothes. I’ve enclosed a VISA gift card with six hundred dollars on it.
Well, she’d been partially right. There was a gift card and shopping involved.
Your airline and hotel confirmations are in the envelope with this letter, in case you haven’t found them yet.
As her mother had said, two pages of confirmations were still in the FedEx package along with a VISA gift card in a presentation folder.
Have fun. We’ll miss you and we’ll see you in January and you can tell us all about it.
Love you
Mom and Dad
p.s. You’ll need your passport so make sure it’s up to date.
Natalie sat back in her chair, her gut whirling from the surprise. It was a nice gift and she did want to get out of Memphis for the holidays and it was paid for. She hated shopping like some people hated taxes, but–she worked the VISA card between her fingers like a baton–her mother had been correct. She had nothing in her closet for a Caribbean vacation.
She sucked down her coffee then headed to her room to dress. Crummy weather or no, she was going shopping… Heaven help her.
Chapter Two
Brock Wade zipped his fly then headed down the stairs to breakfast. The fact there was a breakfast to head to was as surprising as finding his three siblings around the kitchen table. He eyed them with suspicion as he pulled down a mug and filled it with strong coffee.
“Not that I’m not happy to see all of you this morning. However, the last time the three of you got up at the crack of dawn to gang up on me, it was to convince me to let Lauren stay out until 2 a.m. for the homecoming dance.”
A flush crept up Lauren’s neck. Brock had had to pick her up from a post–homecoming party after her date became too drunk to drive.
“And that turned out so well,” Brock said, with a hike of his eyebrow.
George snorted, then tried to cover it by bringing his cup to his mouth. At twenty–two, George still found a lot of humor in drunks. Brock had been too busy and overwhelmed at twenty–two to find humor in much of anything.
“So, does someone want to tell me why we are having a family meeting at–” Brock looked at the clock on the stove, “–five–thirty–five?”
“We will,” Cody said. “We’re waiting on–”
The kitchen door opened with a bang against the wall, as a gust of frigid Arkansas December air shot in, depositing a dusting of snow on the linoleum. Hank Brown, the ranch foreman, stomped his way into the house.
“Whew,” he said, brushing ice off his felt cowboy hat. “Nasty out there.”
“What are you doing here, Hank?”
Hank looked at the three Wade siblings, who stared back at him.
Brock pulled out a chair, sat and then filled a plate with bacon, scrambled eggs and hot biscuits. “I don’t have time for games this morning. It’s crappy outside and I’ve got a lot to do. So…” He shoved a biscuit loaded with butter and bacon into his mouth and chewed. “Either start talking or I’m gone as soon as I finish eating.”
Hank got a cup of coffee and then turned a chair around and straddled it.
Lauren pulled a paper gift sack from under her chair and set it on the table. “Merry Christmas!” A wide smile lit her face.
Brock took a swig of his coffee and eyed the Christmas sack, more than a little suspicious about what his siblings were up to.
“It ain’t Christmas,” he growled. “And you know the rule…no unwrapping presents before December twenty–fifth and, unless I’m mistaken, that’s still a couple of weeks away.”
“But, Brock. This one can’t wait until then.” Lauren, the youngest and most vocal of the Wade clan, pushed the bag toward him. “Please. Just look inside.”
When Brock didn’t immediately reach for the Santa sack, Cody elbowed him. “Pick up the sack. We all know your rules but, for today, be flexible.”
Brock shrugged. “I’m flexible,” he growled, glaring at Cody, and then spreading his glare across the rest of the family.
George laughed. “Yeah, about as flexible as a fence post, and you know what happens to those when they fight the wind from a tornado like Lauren.”
Reaching across the table, Brock pulled the sack toward him. He reached inside and pulled out a piece of notebook paper.
For all you’ve done for us and all you do for us, we are sending you on a ten–day vacation to the Sand Castle Resort.
Merry Christmas
Cody, George and Lauren
Accompanying the letter were printed confirmations for a hotel and flight reservations. The flight was scheduled for the day after tomorrow.
He furrowed his brow. “What’s this?”
Lauren jumped up, ran around the ta
ble and threw her arms around his neck. “A vacation. Just for you. From us.”
“Thanks, honey but I don’t have time to go on a vacation. There’s too much work that still has to be done to get the cattle moved up closer to the house and then there’s all the Christmas stuff I have to do. I appreciate the thought. Maybe next year but not now. Not this year.”
“You have to go now,” Lauren cried. “It’s all paid for and everything.” Her bottom lip poked out in a pout, as a frown pulled down her eyebrows.
Brock turned and wrapped his arms around his baby sister. “It’s so sweet you wanted to do this.” He looked at his brothers. “You guys too. But now just isn’t a good time.”
“Why not?” Cody challenged. “You think we can’t do without you for ten lousy days?”
“It’s not that,” Brock protested. “It’s–”
“What? Hell, Brock. Me and George can run this ranch for a couple of weeks.”
“I know that, Cody. But–”
Cody stood. “I’m twenty–nine, Brock. I’ve been working with you at Ace in the Hole all my life and you still don’t trust me.”
“I trust you. It’s just that–”
George shoved his chair back with a loud scrape. “Is it me that you don’t trust? When you were my age, you’d been raising us all by yourself for three years. What do you have that I don’t? What’s it gonna take before you let Cody and me shoulder some of the ranch responsibilities?”
His three siblings stood, forming a united front. Anger on Cody’s face. Frustration etched on George’s expression. And Lauren looked about one second away from a flood of tears. Brock let out a long sigh.
Damn it. He didn’t need a vacation. He didn’t want a vacation. And he certainly didn’t want to go to some resort he’d never heard of on an island he’d never heard of.
“Fine,” he finally said. “I’ll think about it. We can talk about it tonight at dinner.”
Lauren flipped her long dark hair over one shoulder. “There’s nothing to talk about. Either you accept our present or I’ll never speak to you again.” She wheeled around and stomped out of the kitchen.
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 31
