I’m in this collection with my short story Cowgirls Don’t Cry which follows Cowgirl Up in an early anthology with Romance Books ‘4’ Us collection.
COWGIRLS DON’T CRY
(FOLLOWS COWGIRL UP)
While interviewing his client, Arthur Castel felt an urge to wrap things up. A shiver of awareness went through him, and his heart beat a little bit faster. Gwen is in the waiting room. He didn’t need to look to see if she was there, he knew it. The bond that had linked them the first night they slept together told him so.
As the client, Mr. Ortega, told him about the case, Arthur nodded, but his gaze kept darting toward the door. He jotted down some notes, even though his heart wasn’t in it. Anything to keep his mind off Gwen. This was his first case as a trial lawyer and he should have been excited. He studied the file and asked a couple more questions. “Okay. That seems to be all I need from you. If I have any more questions, I can call you at this number, right?”
“Yes, or my office number.” Mr. Ortega, a well-dressed middle-aged man with silver in his dark hair, slid a card across the desk.
Picking up the card, Arthur clipped it to the file. He stood and held out his hand. “Thank you for coming in.”
Mr. Ortega stood and clasped his palm. “Think you can get me off?”
“I’ll do my best. Sexual harassment lawsuits can be a little dicey, but this one seems to be more of a he said/she said situation.” Probably why he, the newbie, was saddled with this case. “I’ll do the best I can.”
“That’s all I can ask for.” Mr. Ortega went out the door.
Arthur placed a few folders he needed to go over into a briefcase and hurried out. His entire body pulsed at the sight of his fiancée.
Gwen sat in one of the comfortable chairs in the waiting room. She wore one of the dresses he had bought for her—low-cut, and dark. The dress was made for her. He caught a tantalizing glimpse of her creamy white breasts. All he wanted was to take her right there on the floor.
Gwen’s green eyed gaze went to Mr. Ortega. Her expression seemed troubled.
“Did milady miss me?” Arthur offered a hand.
“Always, darling.” Gwen took his palm and rose.
The shock of skin to skin contact ran through his body.
She picked up her old leather-fringed jacket.
Arthur helped her into it and sniffed her hair, getting a lungful of cherry blossom from her shampoo. “Your jacket does nothing for that sexy dress.”
She slipped her arms into the sleeves. “Sorry, but it’s all I have.”
He settled the coat on her shoulders. “I’ll have to buy you another one.”
“It never ends, does it?” Mr. Ortega shook his head before stepping through the doorway.
Gwen flipped her dark hair out of the coat and glowered after him. “Client of yours?”
“Yes. What are you feeling?”
“His disdain for women is like a throb in a bad tooth.”
A chill flowed up his spine. “What else?”
Gwen met his gaze. “Whatever he’s done, he’s guilty as hell.”
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