The Princess and the Porn Star (33 page)

“An intimate ceremony?” I rolled my eyes and turned off my iPad. “Really?”

Lee snorted. “You’ve got to give them credit. They do get pretty creative with their headlines.”

“If by creative, you mean catty.” I set the tablet on the nightstand. “Even the positive reviews of the album are backhanded.”

He shrugged. “If these assholes weren’t being negative and obnoxious about something you did, they’d die of boredom.”

“Good point.” I lay back on the pillows. He was beside me, sitting up against his pillow with his own iPad on his knee. I craned my neck to see his screen. “What are you tweeting?” I raised an eyebrow. “It had better not involve being in bed together.”

“What? Why not?” He smirked. “We
are
married now.”

“Lee…”

“Relax.” He patted my arm. “I just tweeted, ‘Soaking up the sun in St. Croix, and loving every minute of it.’”

“Aww.” I grinned. “Just make sure it doesn’t post your location.”

“Oh, yeah, wouldn’t that go over well?” He laughed. “A tweet about being in St. Croix, posted from Bumfuck Nowhere, Alaska.”

“Exactly.”

He hit send on the tweet, then set the tablet aside and lay beside me. “Somehow I don’t think they’ll find us here.”

“As long as you don’t tweet our location, no.”

He laughed. “Well, okay, but that doesn’t mean they’ll figure out where we’re staying.”

I eyed him. “Lee, there’s like four places to stay in this entire town.”

“Okay, then I guess we’d better hope they don’t find us.” He slid his hand over the top of mine and ran his thumb back and forth along the two rings on my finger. “Sounds like they bought the St. Croix story, at least.”

“Thank God.” I snuggled closer to him. “I’m sure it won’t stop them from looking once they figure out we’re not there.”

“They’ve only got three days to figure it out.” He kissed the top of my head and wrapped his arms around me. “And quite frankly, if the stalkerazzi can find us all the way up here, I suppose they deserve whatever pictures they get.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” I rested my head on his shoulder and draped my arm over him. Closing my eyes, I just let myself enjoy the warmth of his body for a moment.

I could barely believe there was ever a time when I thought the decision to include a porn star in one of my music videos was going to lead to disaster. And I suppose it had led to a few disasters along the way, but from those disasters came something so much better than what I’d been walking on eggshells to keep from losing.

My old record label was the one that’d lost, according to my closest friends and family. As Quinn had put it the other night at the wedding,
“Risen Star is going to be sobbing into its crystal meth once this album drops. It’s the shit, lady.”
He’d followed that with some of his usual sage advice about life in general, and then whispered something into Lee’s ear. Lee still refused to tell me what it was, only that it was intended for our wedding night and he would
not
be applying it. One day, I would get it out of one of them.

But not tonight. Tonight, it was just the two of us, holing up in a tiny bed and breakfast where the world couldn’t find us.

It had been a bumpy, meandering road to this place. I’d lost a lot along the way. Record deals. Friends. Lovers. I’d even lost myself a few times.

But in the end, it all led me to this place. To this honeymoon in the middle of nowhere, with my career more secure than ever and my body aching from the wedding night of my dreams.

The future was, as it always would be, uncertain, but for now, I was perfectly content to just lie here with the love of my life.

I still had my music. I was madly in love.

And I had no regrets.

About the Author

Lauren Gallagher is an abnormal romance writer currently living in the wilds of Omaha, Nebraska. She and her husband, along with a coyote-iguana hybrid and two and a half cats, are thought to be in hiding from the Polynesian Mafia and a debt collector in search of a fine for an overdue book from the Library of Alexandria. Lauren continues to skillfully, if somewhat clumsily, elude them, but continues to have run-ins with her arch nemesis, M/M erotic romance author L. A. Witt. The implementation of Operation: I Don’t Think So is expected to resolve that problem soon enough.

Website:
www.loriawitt.com

Blog:
gallagherwitt.blogspot.com

Twitter:
@GallagherWitt

Look for these titles by Lauren Gallagher

Now Available:

Who’s Your Daddy?

All The King’s Horses

Writing as L.A. Witt:

Nine-tenths of the Law

The Distance Between Us

A.J.’s Angel

Out of Focus

The Closer You Get

Conduct Unbecoming

Tooth & Claw

The Given & the Taken

The Healing & the Dying

Coming Soon:

Meet Me in the Middle

Sometimes your last nerve is the strongest link to forever.

All the King’s Horses

© 2012 Lauren Gallagher

Amy Dover’s dream to become a professional horse trainer hasn’t come without a price. Career pressure, combined with a difficult marriage to an oppressive husband, has sucked away every last bit of joy the horses used to bring her.

At her husband’s untimely death, she packs her truck, heads over the Cascade Mountains, and takes a job as a farmhand. Yet even in the presence of the creatures she loves the most, her emotional wounds are too deep and wide to recapture what she’s lost.

Dustin King senses there’s something off about his new farmhand. She’s undeniably attractive, but for someone who knows her way around a barn, she’s unnervingly indifferent toward horses. Especially the pair of Tennessee Walkers he’s just rescued. Instinct tells him that no matter how hard she tries not to care, the horses and the woman need each other.

As Amy and Dustin bond with the traumatized horses, something unexpected happens. The sparks between them ignite into a night of stormy passion. As Amy’s soul comes back to life, though, she feels the pull to return to her old life. She just hadn’t planned on having someone to leave behind.

Warning: Contains two people who set the sheets on fire every chance they get… well, except when they don’t get anywhere near a bed. Which is more often than not, because, hey, when you want it, you want it. Book also contains a lot of lost souls, four-legged and two-legged alike, who made the author cry a few times, and seriously, she doesn’t do that. Like, ever. You’ve been warned.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
All the King’s Horses:

“Amy?”

I spun around. “Oh. Hey.”

The ever-present black hat put a shadow across his eyes but didn’t quite hide the slight lift of his eyebrows as he asked, “You have a minute?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Oh God, I was so busted. He must have seen me with Star just then. How the hell did I explain myself? Especially after we’d had that discussion about Chip. I was just petting her, but he’d been clear about those horses and… Crap. Good thing I didn’t have too much to pack…

He cleared his throat. “How much experience
do
you have with horses?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I’ve, um, worked with them. A lot.”

“Define ‘a lot’.” He held my gaze, and I swore his intense blue eyes saw right through me.

I fidgeted and couldn’t keep myself from breaking eye contact. “I’ve worked with them all my life in one capacity or another.”

“Ever done any training?”

I looked him in the eye again, and something in his told me he already knew the answer somehow. “Yes,” I said softly. “Some.” I paused, but then his knowing expression pulled a barely whispered, “Quite a bit, actually” out of me.

Dustin gave a single, slow nod and said nothing for a long moment. About the time I was going to ask if there was anything else, he went on. “Listen, I was wondering if you’d be interested in working with Blue and Star.”

Okay, apparently I was sleep-deprived to the point of auditory hallucinations now. I cocked my head. “Come again?”

He hooked his thumbs in his pockets in a failed attempt to appear casual and relaxed. “I’ve been thinking since last night. And, um…” He paused, clearing his throat again. “Look, I’m scheduled into the ground, and there’s no way I can give them the attention they need. I can pay you more.”

I stared at him, my expression probably making him wonder if I’d suddenly lost the ability to comprehend the English language.

He shifted his weight. “I guess I was just thinking,” he said. “After I saw you with Chip.” A little bit of color appeared in his cheeks. “Maybe I jumped the gun.”

“Well, you did tell me to stay away from him, so…”

“I did,” he said with a slight nod. “But you must have done something right, because if I understand what I saw correctly, you had him eating out of your hand. And
not
taking your arm off.”

“Aside from the bite that started the whole thing, yes.”

“Exactly. He bit you, which means he was threatened, but then you turned him around so he was quietly eating out of your hand. While you were in his stall.” Dustin shook his head. “Even I won’t go in there while he’s eating.”

“Was he starved or something?”

“No, the show horses usually aren’t,” he said. “But for some reason, this one’s territorial anyway, and when you put food in front of him?” Dustin whistled. “I’d put bars or a stall guard over his door if that didn’t make him wig out even more.”

I loosely folded my arms across my chest. “So, if I’m hearing you right, now that you’ve seen me not get myself killed in Chip’s stall, you want me to work with your other two abuse cases?”

“If you’re interested,” he said quietly. “And maybe Chip too. Eventually. He’s got a long way to go before he can be saddled, let alone ridden, but…” He swallowed. “I’d have you work with some of the others first, but I owe it to my clients to work on the ones they’re paying me to train, not the rescue cases.”

“Right. Okay.” I paused, still trying to accept we were even having this conversation. I looked at Star, who watched us over her stall door. Maybe this was what I needed. The chance to rekindle my long-dead love of horses. And for that matter, if Dustin trusted me with this, with his most vulnerable animals, then maybe
I’d
jumped the gun with
him
.

I turned to him and nodded. “Yeah. I can work with them.”

Dustin’s shoulders dropped just a little. “You have no idea how much this will help me. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” I said. “Thanks for…um… Thanks for the opportunity.”

He offered a slight smile and started to turn like he was about to leave but stopped. “Oh, and tonight, we’re…” He dropped his gaze for a second before looking me in the eye again. “The folks and I, we’re going into town this evening. To a country club.” He paused again. “Do you want to go?”

“A country club?” Something told me this wasn’t the same kind of country club I’d been to in my other life. Something else told me my heart shouldn’t have started racing like this, and my knees shouldn’t suddenly be this unsteady. I smiled, hoping it didn’t seem too forced. “Um, sure. Yeah, I guess. Sounds like fun.”

His eyebrows jumped. “Really? Great.” He smiled, though I couldn’t decide if it was forced or nervous. Maybe both. “We’re leaving at six thirty, so just meet me in front of the house.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll be there.”

He left the barn and left me standing there wondering just who the hell he was and what he’d done with Dustin King. First he was looking down his nose at me and telling me to steer clear of certain horses, and now this? Offering to let me work with his horses
and
inviting me out this evening?

Shaking my head, I went back to work. I wasn’t so sure about socializing with Dustin, but now that the offer was on the table, I did like the idea of getting off the ranch for a little while. I’d made all of two trips off the property since I got here, once to the grocery store in town and once to run an errand for John. Apparently, it was possible to get some cabin fever when the cabin in question was thirty-five wide-open acres of horse country.

After I’d brought the horses in from their pastures and made sure everyone was fed, I went back to my side of the duplex to get cleaned up. It occurred to me as I looked through my clothes in the old oak dresser that I should have asked Dustin what people customarily wore to this place. I hadn’t been to any country bars before—I assumed that was what country club meant in this context—and for all I knew, this could have been a jeans-and-a-cowboy-hat place, or the women could be wearing giant square-dance skirts. Not that I’d feel any less out of place either way.