Beware of the Cowboy

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica
Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Beware of the Cowboy

ISBN 9781419914324

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Beware of the Cowboy Copyright © 2008 Mari Freeman

Edited by Kelli Kwiatkowski.

Photography and cover art by Les Byerley.

Electronic book Publication January 2008

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not
be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written
permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue,
Akron OH 44310-3502.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including
infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is
punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. 
(http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The
characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Mari Freeman

Chapter One

Liza held her day planner high over her desk and let it
drop, enjoying the loud thud the leather made as it hit the surface. She toed
her shoes off and kicked them aside, walking around the desk that was covered
in neatly stacked work. Her well-coordinated suit was still without wrinkles
even though it was late in the afternoon. Letting herself flop into the chair,
she looked at her assistant, Becky, and shook her head.

“What?” Becky got up from her desk against the wall, close
to the bookshelves on the left side of the small office, and headed to the
credenza to pour Liza a glass of wine. It was late Friday afternoon and the
woman looked like she needed a drink—and probably something stronger than wine,
but it was a start. “Problem with Mr. Dean?”

“No.” Liza’s head fell back to rest on the chair. “Well, I
guess it’s not a problem,” she huffed. “Unless you consider my reputation being
dragged through the gutter a problem.” She took the glass from Becky. “Not even
through the gutter. No. It’s worse than that. I’ll be a laughingstock. No one
will take me seriously ever again.”

Becky moved to the chair across from Liza’s desk, confused.
Liza DeLane was the hottest event planner in Texas. Her schedule was nearly
booked solid for the next two years. Weekends, holidays, the summer conference
season and even the spring wedding season were nearly all double-booked. Her
reputation for putting on the hottest, most opulent events in the Dallas-Fort
Worth Metroplex was spreading far beyond Texas.

Becky studied Liza’s face. Her boss looked more upset than
she’d ever seen her. “What are you talking about? What on earth happened with
Dean?”

Liza took a long sip of her wine. “Puppy love. That’s what
happened. Mr. Dean’s wife wants a gala doggie wedding for her pug. Evidently,
Ms. Penelope Pug is getting a pedigreed husband from Spain. Pedro the Pug.” She
waved the wineglass for emphasis.

Becky raised a neatly shaped eyebrow. “And that ruins
your
reputation how?” Liza was a genius when it came to planning parties, but
sometimes she let the clients push her too far.

“I’ll be the wedding coordinator for the happy occasion.”
Liza nodded at Becky’s questioning look. “Oh yes. We’re doing it. Now I know how
the man got to be so powerful. Bamboozled me.”

“Bamboozled?” Becky was smiling behind her glass.

“Don’t be so smug. We’ve only got two weeks to put together
an A-list wedding for a couple of drooling dogs. You’re in this as deeply as I
am.”

That got Becky’s attention—and a scowl from her boss as her
assistant laughed out loud. “A-list? For a dog? I figured she wanted some
cutesy stuff for the animals. You’re telling me that Gerald Dean, oilman,
Dallas’ Man of the Year, is going to be holding formal puppy nuptials? I don’t
believe it.” She considered the Merlot before taking another sip. “How did he
get you to agree to that? We’re booked.”

“Oh, the man is a shark. He’s a very attractive,
well-groomed, wealthy shark, but still a shark. He reminded me oh-so subtly of
New Year’s, and how difficult it would be for him to have to find someone else
to plan that event.” The New Year’s Eve party at Dean Petroleum was the hottest
bash in the city. It brought in a good percentage of Liza’s new business every
year, and the party kept getting bigger. So much bigger that they’d need to
move venues if it kept growing.

“You’re kidding? That’s blackmail, isn’t it?”

“Not really.” Liza took another drink and loosened the
collar of her shirt. She reached up and let her hair fall from the band that
had been holding the curls in place. Blonde, shiny twists tumbled over her
shoulders and down her back. “He was way too smooth for that. Evidently this is
important to his wife, therefore it’s important to him. He’s paying us almost the
same fee that we earn for the New Year’s Eve party. How do you say no to that?”
She put her elbows on the desk and let her head fall into her hands, her hair
falling forward to hide her face. “So, in two weeks we have to figure out how
to make a puppy wedding the event of the month, without making ourselves look
like idiots. In the process, we have to make the very extravagant Mrs. Bobbie
Dean happy as well.”

Becky giggled. Liza needed to loosen up, have some fun and
quit working so hard. Maybe working an event this lighthearted was just the
thing. Dean was a big client and Becky knew Liza would be all over this
project. Whether she wanted to or not, she would work like a dog herself to
make it the best it could be. “Look Liza, it’s not the end of the world. It’s
just one event. We’ve got two others that weekend and I think your reputation
can handle it. I’ll manage most of the details. You handle the other bookings.”

“That was my first idea, but Dean has his own plan. Mrs.
Bobbie Dean wants me there for the entire weekend—rehearsal dinner, ceremony,
all the way to the end of a very elaborate reception. I’m stuck.” She pulled
out her notes from the meeting and tossed them across the desk.

Becky eyed the list, still trying not to break into another
fit of laughter. “If it bothers you that much, say no. But I don’t think it’s
all that bad. We both know all about Bobbie Dean and her eccentricities, but
really, it’s just one event on a relatively slow weekend. How bad can it be?”

Liza rubbed her eyes. “It’s a doggie wedding, Beck.”

Becky considered her boss and good friend. Yes, this could
be just the thing Liza needed, a weekend out of the city. She just had to
convince her of that. “You need to relax, lighten up some. The doggie-do will
be fun.” Liza flinched at the comment, but Becky was more of a friend now than
an assistant and she could get away with telling her boss the blunt truth.

Becky leaned forward and reached out her hand to her friend.
“You’ve built a prison out of this business and locked yourself in it. Get out,
Liza. Get out and do something for yourself. I’ll take care of planning
Penelope’s nuptials. You go to the spa, shopping, anything…just take a couple
days off.”

“The spa? You know I can’t do that, Becky. I agreed to do
the job, I’ll see it through.”

Becky watched as her boss scribbled a note on the list of
requests Dean had given her. Becky had been with her for years and had only
managed a couple of events without Liza micromanaging, making sure nothing was
outside of the agencies specs. One of the few people who knew about Liza’s
past, Becky understood her need for control—and Liza DeLane rarely gave up
complete control of anything.

But that didn’t mean Becky would stop helping her try.

Becky leaned back and crossed her legs. “I have another suggestion
that will make this all better.”

“I’m listening,” Liza said.

“Why don’t you suggest that they make it a charity event for
the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals or a local animal shelter?
Have the guests bring donations in lieu of gifts. Makes Dean look good, he can
even write it off on his taxes, and
then
you’re planning a charity event
instead of hitching pugs.”

A smile crossed Liza’s face as she contemplated her
assistant’s suggestion. “That could work. Dean would certainly see the benefits
of yet another charitable donation.” She scribbled something else on the list.
“When was the last time I gave you a raise?”

“Last month,” Becky laughed.

“I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that myself. The only
thing I could picture was the front page of the society section featuring the
billionaire Bobbie and her ‘Dog-Gone Wedding’, with the write-up naming Liza
DeLane of Main Events, Party Planners, as the person who made it all possible.”
Liza held up her wineglass in a toast. “You laughed a little at the situation
and then worked out a very simple solution. Bless you girl. Give yourself
another raise.”

They clinked their glasses in celebration.

* * * * *

Blake groaned, already envisioning a catastrophe as the two
youngest colts bolted from their mothers and headed toward the open yard.
They’d wanted the youngsters away from all the decorations. His mother would
kill him if her expensive party favors were ruined by his horses. He whistled
to Thomas, his foreman, as he cantered by. “I got ’em. Get the mares penned in
before they head over there too.” He turned his gelding to the house, watching
as the colts hit the tented area of the yard and a woman in a suit came running
out from under the tent, arms flailing.

She caught hold of the black colt by his mane and started
rubbing his head. Blake came to a stop next to the other one, eased himself off
this mount and tossed a rope around the colt’s neck. After securing the escapee
to his saddle, he looked to see if the woman still had the black one under
control.

Liza DeLane.
He’d seen her at the last New Year’s Eve
party and once or twice at the Dallas office. The woman was beautiful. She had
bright green eyes that were a little too big and set a little too far apart,
but that just made them dramatic. She didn’t put a bunch of makeup on them
either. Instead they were nice and natural, just the way he liked it. The way
she wore those expensive suits made him hard just looking at her. The short
skirt and fitted jacket gave a man just enough information about those ample
curves for his imagination to run away with him. And he wanted to know more
about what was under this particular pinstripe. He lifted his hat and pushed
his hair back as Thomas rode up to help collect his errant colts.

“Look, you guys are going to have to keep these horses out
of the area this weekend. I know it’s a ranch, but there’s a lot of money tied
up in these decorations.” As she spoke, the colt pulled out of her hands, took
two awkward leaps to the left and happily sunk his teeth into an oversized,
rhinestone-covered fire hydrant. She rushed over to grab the colt again. Blake
moved to do the same and put his booted foot down—just before Liza’s spiked
three-inch heel landed directly on his toe.

The cowhide did little to absorb the impact from the killer
stiletto. “Ow!”

“Sorry!” She stumbled as she tried to get off his foot, but
only managed to throw herself off-balance. She began to fall backward and Blake
caught her waist to keep both of them from toppling into the folding chairs.
Her hands, naturally reaching for balance, gripped his biceps. Once they’d
regained their balanced, the two of them froze, looking into each other’s eyes.

Liza shivered at the heat in the cowboy’s gaze. She squeezed
her hands, just to feel the strength in his arms. She enjoyed the ripple of
movement his muscles made in reaction to her grip and the heat from his body as
he leaned forward a little with his lips slightly parted. Liza’s heart pounded.
Her pussy clenched at the prospect of tasting those lips, and the thought of
how they would feel pressed against her own in a heated kiss. She felt his
fingers tighten around her hips.

The colt jumped again, knocking over several of the rented
chairs before trotting up the aisle, tearing the satin runner that had been
hand painted with pink and lavender paw prints. “Shit!” Blake reluctantly
released Liza, making sure her balance was good before following the colt. He
managed to corner and calm the colt next to the elaborate altar, but not before
the wayward baby had knocked two vases to the ground, scattering glass and
tossing flowers over the first row.

Liza shook off the momentary loss of concentration caused by
the feel of the cowboy’s big hands holding her, and stomped toward the man’s
horse. She had a job to do, and mooning over the hired help wouldn’t help get
this mess cleaned up. She ripped a rope from his saddle. “If you can’t control
these guys, please call someone who can. I understand that Mr. Dean’s son runs
the ranch. Call him if you need to, but keep the livestock on the correct side
of the fence.”

Blake watched as she headed toward him and the wayward colt,
twisting and knotting the scrap of rope. Her swaying hips and her manipulations
of the rope were equally interesting. Her long legs and curved hips moved in a
silky fluid motion. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled,
several rich golden strands escaping the rest of the pulled-back bunch to rest
softly against her cheeks.

“But lady—” Thomas began to stammer from his horse as he
neared the couple.

Blake gave his foreman a cutting look. “It’s okay. We’ll get
the colts out of here.” His attention went back to Liza. She slowly inched the
makeshift halter she’d tied from his rope over the colt’s head. Intriguing. She
could make a halter out of a scrap of rope
and
had legs up to her ears.
He looked back down into those green eyes. “I’m real sorry, ma’am. We were
moving them to prevent just such a scenario.” Going heavy on his accent, he
added, “Babies just got curious ’bout the shiny stuff.” He gave her a wink and
started back to his horse, exaggerating a limp.

Damn, that woman was hot. His fingers itched to touch her
again, to pull the rest of her shining hair out of the knot she’d fastened
severely on the top of her head. Wondering what that hair would look like down
and spilling over his thighs as she had those sweet full lips wrapped around
his cock, he tipped his hat to her, mounted up and turned to lead the colts to
the pasture.

For just a heartbeat, he’d seen something vulnerable in her
eyes. He imagined that if he stripped her out of that pinstriped armor she hid
behind, she would be a timid lover, strong on the outside, soft and sweet on
the inside. She would flush a sexy shade of pink as he touched her, explored
her. Blake felt his cock stir again.

His grip tightened on his reins as he imagined teasing his
way down her body, feeling her body tremble beneath his fingers. She would be
writhing, whimpering, her helpless pleas a siren’s call to his cock. With a
body like hers, he would take his time. Yep, he’d be patient with that
one…trace the lines of her breasts with his fingers, trail hot licks down past
her bellybutton, above her mound, hinting at moving lower but not making any
real progress in that direction. He could imagine her arousing aroma in the air
around them, the smell of her need.