“Sit with me, Lil.” Brodie Yates’ order didn’t come with an alternative.
Bittersweet memories rose from the ashes. She’d wished to hear those words about
a thousand times. Deep in her heart, an ache throbbed.
“You paid for the steak, not idle conversation.” Her statement came hard and
brittle as she faced him, trying to forget the man in front of her and that he’d
known her as Lavender Lil.
Brodie reached into his pocket and flipped a silver dollar onto the table. The
heavy coin spun for a second before clinking to rest with the woman’s profile
“I’m paying for the company.”
Laurel’s lips tightened along with fingernails digging into the soft flesh of
her palms. “Who do you think you are to barge into my life this way?”
“A man no one wants to know. The devil with a six shooter.” His tone held quiet
torture. “Someone who’s been to heaven and hell and half the stops in between.”
Doubting the wisdom, she dropped stiffly into the spot Ollie, the café owner,
had vacated, hating the swish of her skirts that floated lazily against his
boots. “What does such a man talk about?”
Damn her voice for going soft on her. She blamed the glimmer in his eyes...and
the smile that promised sin.
“Pain and regret. Happy times. Four days in St. Louis. Pecan praline pie that I
have on good authority is the way to your heart. Should I continue?” He asked.
Foreboding swept her down a winding road. To follow would be inviting back the
dark, unwelcome nightmares she strove daily to forget. The past lay buried
beneath more grief and turmoil than any person should ever have to live with.
Brodie swallowed and laid down his fork when she didn’t reply. He leaned
forward, his intent clear. Laurel jerked her head aside and drew back. However,
such tactics didn’t deter a man like him.
With a firm grip of her chin, he forced her to meet the hunger in his smoky
gaze. “I recall a hot-blooded woman on a sultry summer night. The wet eagerness
“That’s what you said then, too. Begged for more. Pleaded with me to take you
“Lil died. She doesn’t exist anymore.” A razor sharp edge flavored harsh
reality. He’d left her in that godforsaken place with never a backward glance.
“You’re mistaken. Lil is very much alive.” He tapped his leather-vested chest.
“She’s in here for safekeeping.”
With the barest of fingertips he traced the line of her parted mouth, leaving a
scorched path. A fine sheen of perspiration pooled in the valley between her
“Kisses sweet as sun-ripened strawberries. Wonder if you taste the same as I
“Stop.” Laurel twisted away and stood. “We can’t.”
He touched her again, his caress gentler than dewdrops on an early spring day.
She shivered against the contact of his thumb smoothing away perspiration
pooling in the hollow of her throat then across her wildly beating pulse.
“What’s a woman like you doing in Redemption? Surely not trying to find
“Is that so ridiculous?”
Brodie’s clear gaze simmered. “Think a leopard can change his spots?”
“I’m not the person you thought. Despite choosing to believe me unworthy, I had
no control over my situation back then. I do have that luxury now, however.”
“So you say, Lil.” Brodie’s lazy drawl scraped across raw nerves, silk over
sandpaper. “Time does tell all.”
Memories tumbled end over end, colliding with temptation she wasn’t positive she
had strength to resist.
Her head whirled in tune with a thundering heartbeat as she flew from the dining
room of the cafe into the kitchen. Splashing water from the porcelain bowl
beneath the pump, she cooled her heated cheeks.
Please let me come. I promise I won’t be any trouble.
Not now, darlin’. Can’t, but I’ll be back.
He’d heard nothing over the roar of his lust. He closed his eyes to her shame.
In all fairness, he never knew they kept her prisoner. By the time she decided
to trust him, he’d waltzed out the door. And left her behind.
The roughness of her tooth scraped her tongue with the memory of what happened
Easy footsteps aroused alarm. A quick pivot found her staring at the man whom
she wanted more than anything on earth.
He approached with slow, deliberate steps.
“Didn’t get my dollar’s worth of conversation.”
“I didn’t ask for or take your money. I owe you nothing.” Laurel backed up until
her shoulder blades flattened against the wall.
“You saying I can’t pay for favors?” He took a step.
“Yes. I told you I’m not the same....” A roar began inside her head. She eyed
the approaching storm knowing it was too late for help.
“You saying you won’t give that little moan like you used to if I touch you?” He
progressed two steps this time.
She licked her parched lips. Didn’t the man understand? Persisting in this would
only awaken sleeping dogs that had no reason to stir from their slumber.
“Do I dare find out if will your lips will remain cold and lifeless?” He inched
closer, narrowing the space between them more.
So close. A trickle of sweat slid down her back soaking the tight waistband. The
fragrance of leather and fresh cut hay meandered up her nose. God help her. His
mouth pressed to hers would rekindle the love she still felt for him. She wasn’t
made of stone...just flesh and blood and more regrets than she could count.
The lazy half-smile indicated enjoyment. He knew his nearness suffocated her
He meant to strip every shred of her newfound dignity.
He intended to kiss her.
And perhaps more? She gasped for air but found little.
“Convince me. For old time’s sake.” He reached for a dark curl. “Show me I’m no
longer in your blood and I’ll leave you alone. I dare you.”
A rabbit in a snare had a more reasonable chance. His hand slipped behind her
head. Laurel sagged weakly against his chest, tired of fighting forbidden
attraction. Beneath her ear, his heart raced, perhaps chased by memories on a
“I’ve dreamed of this for so long.” His breath stirred the hair against her
throbbing temple. “I’ve relived every detail of those nights in my mind. The
faint scent of rose water behind your ears, the tiny pulse in the hollow of your
throat. I remember every whispered endearment.”
“Please...stop. I don’t—”
His mouth smothered the plea. Her body betrayed her, responding to desire born
from hopeless fear long ago.
Laurel welcomed the thrusting tongue and when her breasts ached for his caress,
he covered them with his palms, rolling the nipples to hard peaks. Delicious,
shameful thrills played tag up her spine.
Soft mewling escaped from somewhere deep inside, a place where lies could not
hide. A place she never thought to revisit in this century.
The arousal bulging beneath his supple trousers into her soft belly spoke of
equal need. Passion became a raging inferno that threatened to scorch everything
in its path...including her lofty goals of good intentions.
Low moans rumbled in his throat when she wound her fingers in the thickness of
What she wouldn’t give to pretend he meant nothing. Simply a man she used to
know. Or maybe just some nameless wanderer who’d ridden into town looking to put
food in his belly.
Truth and lies, pleasure and pain. Seemed she couldn’t have one without plenty
of the opposite. She’d pay any price if he’d up and disappear from life one more
But wasn’t the greater sin in denying he made her feel alive again?
Abruptly, he pushed away. “Got my answer. You still care for me. Admit it. The
fire burns hotter than ever. Cloak yourself in self-righteous claims that mean
nothing but I have my proof.”
Laurel recoiled, wishing him into the nearest grave.
“You low-down double-crosser. I didn’t throw myself into your arms. You came to
me. You took what belongs to your brother.”
The imprint of his touch lingered on her skin like a hot brand.
He barked a laugh. “I didn’t notice any resistance. Your body remembers a
lover’s touch. The supposed fresh start and tender feelings you claim for my
brother? Fact remains, they’re nothing but smoke and mirrors, darlin’.”
A final chance to find...
Desperate to escape her dark past, Laurel James agrees to wed the mayor of a
small east Texas town. With him, life will be quiet. Respectable. Safe. It
should be everything she ever wanted.
And it is. Until Shenandoah rides back into town.
Shenandoah never thought he would find the woman he's loved and lost...and he
certainly never dreamed she'd be pledged to his brother. He knows he should step
aside-he has nothing to offer a woman like Laurel James-but the moment their
eyes meet, Shenandoah is lost. He can only find peace in her arms...but can
redemption be more than a dream for a man who has known nothing but war?
Linda Broday is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling
author and makes her home in the Texas Panhandle on land the American Indian and
Comancheros once roamed. She is a multi-published western historical romance
author who lives and breathes cowboys and the American West way of life. Here in
the panhandle it's very common to see cowboys, they've provided lots of
inspiration. There's just something about a man in tight jeans, a Stetson and
boots that gets her hot and bothered!
Linda grew up watching TV westerns
back in their heyday and fell in love with the desperados, lawmen and strong men
and women who portrayed the people who settled this wild land that offered so
much opportunity for those who wanted to seek it. They taught her the values,
the strength it took to survive and the tremendous will to keep going when
things got tough. She loves writing stories about similar people who could've
lived back then.
When Linda is not writing, She's scouring the internet
looking for little tidbits to add depth to my stories. She has also been
accused, quite unfairly she might add, of haunting museums and libraries.
Linda's desire to keep history alive is what drives her and she can't imagine
writing anything else.