Marly's Choice Read online

  “Come on, Marly, surely you have a few boyfriends in college. You don’t spend all your time studying?” Sam pushed her; his eyes alight with mischief and a hidden message to lie if she had to. She knew that look. Sam was more than pissed with Cade. He was out for revenge.

  Marly fought her grin, ignoring Cade’s brooding looks from the head of the table. She aimed him a look from beneath her lashes. Sam had spent hours teaching her how to do that in the mirror that morning. They had both decided to fight Cade’s fire with more of their own.

  At first, Marly had been hesitant. Cade was enraged already, stomping around the house like a mad man. But upon reflection, and Sam’s insights into the stupidity of a male mind, she had reluctantly agreed to go along with him.

  She shrugged slowly, shaking her head. There really weren’t any boyfriends.

  Cade gave Greg an evil glare when she didn’t answer. Marly almost laughed out loud as Greg paled. He was terrified of Cade. They would all be lucky if he didn’t give the game up out of fear.

  “You remember that one little creep you were so hot for a few years back?” Sam asked her with a frown.

  Marly’s eyes widened as she almost choked on her food. There wasn’t anyone she was hot for. What was Sam doing now? She shook her head desperately to convince him to stop now.

  “Yeah you do.” He leaned forward intently, frowning at her action. “What was his name? Let me think—” He narrowed his eyes intently. “Dillon wasn’t it? Dillon Carlyle? I thought it was him when I was talking to him yesterday.”

  Oh Lord, no! Not Dillon. He was Madison County’s most revered playboy, even to this day. Marly didn’t choke on her food this time, but Cade seemed to wheeze as he gave her a furious glare.

  “Damn good thing she didn’t tell me about it,” his voice was low and angry, his eyes hard as he glanced at her.

  Sam seemed surprised.

  “Damn, Cade. I told him he could come over tonight. He mentioned wanting to see her in town yesterday, so I told him to come on around.” Sam was frowning, distressed. Who knew he and Dillon were such pals? “Besides, I think Marly needs a break from you. See what it’s like to be treated right by someone who knows what a woman is.”

  Cade laid his fork carefully on his plate as his gaze rose to meet Sam’s. The need for violence pulsed in the air around him. Thankfully, he chose to ignore the last remark.

  “Are you crazy?” he asked him carefully. “Dillon is not fit company for Marly.”

  “Dillon’s damned near as rich as you.” Sam began to tick off the man’s qualities on the fingers of one hand.

  “Not even close,” Cade bit out.

  “He’s looking for a wife, and he would make a good husband.” Point two.

  “He’s a hound dog that wouldn’t know fidelity if it bit his ass,” Cade snarled.

  “He’s well respected—”

  “By the women he beds, or his business partners. No one else.” Cade was growing coldly furious.

  “Who else would matter?” Sam chuckled, his male wit out of control. “Oh come one, Cade. He just wants to see her. Marly’s a big girl now. A woman. Let her decide.”

  Marly watched as Cade paled when Sam said those words.

  “He’s too old for her,” he sneered. “He’s older than I am.”

  “Just by two years.” Sam lifted his shoulders in unconcern. “He’s mature. She doesn’t want a kid, Cade.” His eyes sliced to Greg. “No offense intended, kid.”

  Greg choked on laughter or anger, Marly wasn’t certain.

  “None taken,” he assured Sam tightly. Maybe it was anger, Marly thought.

  “Marly?” She jumped as Cade’s voice boomed through the room. “Tell Sam to cancel it. I won’t have you going out with that pervert. It’s hard telling what diseases he’s packing with him.”

  Marly opened her eyes wide; affecting what she hoped was pure amazement.

  “You won’t have me?” She asked him carefully. If he would have her, they wouldn’t be having this problem. “Cade, you’re forgetting, I decide who I go out with and who I don’t. And since you obviously want to treat me like a child, I think it would be nice to be treated as a woman instead.”

  Silence, complete and overwhelming rippled through the room. Sam watched Cade carefully, while Cade glared at Marly. Greg was nervous, his Adam’s apple bobbing frantically. Marly appeared calm, but her stomach was in violent protest. Brock was sitting back in his chair watching it all as though it were some strange movie he had to figure out the plot to.

  “Dillon Carlyle’s out of your league, Marly,” he bit out.

  “Out of my league?” she asked him curiously. “I was unaware I was in one, or that you would know what it was if I were.”

  Ouch. Cade’s brows drew together sharply, the muscle in his jaw flexing in fury as he watched her.

  “So, it’s okay if he shows up?” Sam asked Marly as though Cade weren’t even there. “He seemed really interested in seeing you.”

  “I think it would be fun.” She smiled merrily though she could still feel Cade watching her, a thick cloud of fury hovering over her. “When’s he supposed to be here?”

  “Tonight.” Sam leaned back in his chair with a grin. “Better wear jeans though, I think he’s bringing that new Harley he bought. He’s a grinning fool over that machine.”

  Cade rose suddenly from the table and stalked from the room. Sam smiled in contentment as he heard the door to Cade’s study slam shut with a vicious sound.

  “Act one completed,” he breathed in satisfaction. “If I were you, I’d stalk right in there and ask him what the hell his problem is.”

  Marly widened her eyes in complete amazement.

  “Are you crazy, Sam? He’s completely furious. You know what he would do,” she told him as adrenaline surged through her at the thought.

  “Aw, he won’t hurt you, Marly.” Sam shook his head. “He’s not pissed enough to yell at you yet. He’s mad at me. He thinks you’re an innocent bystander.” Sam laughed at this. “Man. He has no clue.”

  “Dangerous game the two of you are playing,” Brock suddenly spoke up quietly, reflectively. “I wouldn’t push Cade so far so fast if I were you. Especially after yesterday. Whether you two are aware of it or not, Cade’s staked his claim on her. He won’t let another man have her, and anyone else is only going to get hurt.”

  Marly, Sam and Greg glanced at him in surprise.

  “Only a blind man wouldn’t see what you’re up to, Marly. All of you.” He shook his head at them. “Fortunately for you, Cade is real damned blind right now. Push him too far, and when he opens his eyes, it might be more than you can handle.”

  “What would you suggest?” Sam frowned angrily. “He treated her like shit, Brock.”

  “Hitting him back is only going to make things worse.” Brock rose to his feet, moving carefully from the table. “Our Marly’s a beauty, and the feeling’s already there Sam. Let it come to him naturally, or someone’s going to get hurt.” Brock moved away from the table, his stride casual and easy.

  “How often is he right?” Greg asked them curiously.

  Sam frowned. “I don’t know. He’s never done anything like that before.”

  Brock had always left Sam and Marly to their pranks, standing back, watching with a tolerant expression when they messed up.

  “Do you think he’s right?” Marly asked worriedly. “Cade was furious, Sam. Maybe someone less dangerous than Dillon would have been a good idea.”

  Dillon was nearly as tall as the August boys, with dark brown hair and vivid green eyes. He was lean and muscular, and the worst flirt Marly had ever met.

  “Dillon’s a pussycat.” Sam laughed. “The rumors are false for the most part. I know. Those orgies in the mountains he’s accused of have actually been fishing trips with me and the boys. I can’t tell you the times we’ve laughed over that boy and his growing reputation, and the fact he hardly does a thing to deserve it.”

  Marly looked at him
in surprise. “Does Cade know that?”

  “Hell no. He’d ruin it all, Marly. Dillon loves his reputation. Let the boy enjoy it while he can.” Sam was utterly complacent in his part in it all. “You just get dressed up real pretty for that ride he’s gonna take you on. I promise, he won’t try anything. He knows I would kill him.”

  The utter confidence in his tone was a good indication that Sam had laid out a heavy threat to the other man. Marly just wondered how he had convinced Dillon to join the game.

  “So all that talk about me being able to handle him was just talk.” She grinned at his deception.

  “You couldn’t handle a kitten in a wet paper bag,” he grinned. “And none of us would trust another man not to hurt you, except one of us. So it’s a damned good thing you chose Cade to go after.”

  “I’d like to point out that Cade may not agree with you,” Greg said softly in concern. “What if Marly gets hurt in all this, Sam?”

  Sam frowned. “No way in hell. We can’t stand to see her cry, least of all Cade. He’ll take care of her, boy. Just you wait and see. Trust me.” They all winced.

  * * * * *

  He was going to end up killing Dillon Carlyle. Cade flung himself into his desk chair and stared across the room in growing fury. But first, he was going to kill Sam. What had possessed his normally protective brother to allow Marly within ten miles of the depraved creature Dillon was? Not that the guy didn’t have his good points, but Cade knew he would commit murder if he dared to touch Marly. His control wouldn’t be able to handle it. And damn her, she better be wearing more clothes when Dillon showed up than she was wearing now. That short dress, despite the long sleeves, was a killer. The stretchy silk clung to every curve of her body like a second skin. And her damned nipples were hard again. Didn’t she wear a bra?

  He groaned, closing his eyes. He wouldn’t think about it. He wouldn’t. But he couldn’t forget either. The sight of her kneeling at his feet, his flesh hard and thick sinking into her mouth as she watched him with dazed desire. The sounds of her suckling, her moans of need as he spurted harshly inside her. The memory of the night before seared in his brain. Bent over before him, her lovely rear bare and vulnerable to him, that fucking plug stretching her, driving him crazy. He groaned, his head pressing into the back of the chair as his fingers gripped it tightly. God, he wanted her. Wanted her so desperately he was in danger of hurting her if he managed to get his hands on her again.

  Next time, he swore. Next time he had her soft and hot, he was going to fuck the living hell out of her before he ever let her away from him. No. He shook his head roughly. Dammit. He couldn’t take her like that. Not like he had the women before her. His sexuality was like a beast when set loose. Marly deserved gentle, sweet loving, not the dominating sexuality he couldn’t rein in when it was given a chance to free itself. And there would be no controlling it. There was never a way to control it, especially when the need was riding him this hard.

  Yet, he couldn’t force himself to call any of the available women he knew. The thought of it was instantly reprehensible. A betrayal. He shook his head. That wasn’t true, this attraction to Marly was the betrayal, and he was going to have to remember that.

  But he couldn’t convince his body, or his unruly brain. He closed his eyes, and instantly he saw her, naked and willing, soft and inviting. He would move over her, parting her thighs, lowering his head. His tongue would touch and taste, his fingers would explore and invade. He remembered the feel of her tight little rear clenched around his finger and wondered—no. He opened his eyes, breathing harshly, fighting to contain the lust.

  As he sat and brooded over his present predicament, a firm knock at the door interrupted his dark musings.

  “What?” he barked, unconcerned that his temper showed in his voice.

  The door opened, and one of the ranch hands, Bret, stepped hesitantly inside the study.

  “Boss, we just found one of the mares injured. You want to come out and look at her?”

  Cade rose quickly to his feet. “Which one?”

  “Storm’s Promise. She came in from pasture a little bit ago and she’s hurt.” The cowboy scratched his jaw in confusion. “She was fine yesterday.”

  Storm’s Promise was Marly’s horse. Grabbing his hat from the corner of the desk, Cade shoved it on his head. He only hoped no one had told Marly about the horse. The old mare was too fragile to ride anymore, but Cade knew she was attached to it.

  “What’s wrong with her?” He kept his voice low as they left the house and rushed toward the barn.

  “She’s been shot, appears to me like.” Bret shook his head. “I put a call in to the vet, he should be here any time now. He was just out at Carlyle’s ranch and fixin’ to leave anyway. Strange thing is, Cade, none of us heard any shots, and that mare wasn’t far enough away that we wouldn’t have heard it.”

  Damn Carlyle, now he was using Cade’s vet too. The man was fixing to get hurt.

  When Cade stepped up to Storm’s stall, he bent slowly, inspecting the long gash along the horse’s flank. It was raw and bloody, and deeper than he would have expected. The wound wasn’t very old, only hours at the most, Cade thought.

  “Wasn’t she in the home pasture?” he asked softly, referring to the grazing land around the house.

  “Was last night.” Bret Wayne leaned against the stall door, watching Cade as he examined the wound. “And like I said, there ain’t been no shots put off today, period. We would have heard them.”

  “The wound isn’t very old.” Cade touched the fresh blood on the horse’s side. “A few hours at the most.”

  “Yep. She was limping heavy when she came to the barn, sweaty and breathing hard. Looks like she had run as far as she could after she was hit.”

  The pastureland around the house extended for miles all around the ranch yard. But the retort of a gunshot wouldn’t have been missed, even at that distance. Cade straightened up, frowning down at the mare as she shifted painfully, her head tossing as her hoofs stamped against the hay-strewn floor.

  “Vet’s on his way, then?” Cade frowned at the wound.

  “Should be here within the next little bit, he said.” Bret nodded his shaggy, dark blond head. “I told him we needed him extra quick, so he shouldn’t be long.”

  “Get a couple of the boys together, have them begin inspecting the pasture, make sure none of the other horses or cattle have been hit,” Cade ordered him as he moved back to the stall door. “Could have been rustlers looking to wound her enough to catch her. Have them check for any breaks in the fence or anything unusual.”

  As he moved through the stable, Cade stopped, checking the other horses carefully. Most were in for treatment for minor problems. Sprained foreleg, vaccinations. They had several dozen horses on the ranch, and at any time the stalls could be filled with animals. But this was the first time one had wandered in from a gunshot wound. Coyote or wolf attack, even bear, but never wounds like this.

  “You wanna see the doc when he gets done?” Bret followed along behind him.

  “Not unless there’s something I need to know,” Cade told him quietly. “Have him clean and dress it. I’ll call him tomorrow for details.”

  “Sure thing, boss.” Bret nodded as Cade walked through the ranch yard, heading back to the house.

  His frowned, thinking about the wound, the lack of sound that indicated trouble. There was no doubt about it, a gun shot would have echoed for miles, and had one been heard the cowboys working the pasture would have headed

  out to inspect it.

  The only way that wound could have been made was with a rifle, silencer attached. Rustlers didn’t usually possess such expensive weapons, nor did they bother with old horses. The young, well-trained ones were what they sought. It bothered him that it had been Marly’s horse that was hit, as well. Cade wasn’t a big believer in coincidence. Considering the circumstances behind Marly’s childhood, he was even more uneasy.

  His gut was roiling with wa
rning, but he hadn’t heard from Annie, and she would have called if Jack had found her. Unless she had been unable to call.

  Cursing softly, he strode quickly into the house, and called Sam and Brock into the study. He didn’t know if it was warranted, but he would warn the boys; make sure an extra eye was kept on Marly. Because God above knew, he didn’t know if he could handle it if anything happened to her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dillon Carlyle was as handsome as he ever was. His thick brown hair was longish, with just enough curl to make it wavy and his dark green eyes were still filled with laughter. Marly had never had a crush on the handsome rancher, though, even during her younger, more impressionable years. She remembered the aloof figure from gossip and brief glimpses in the small town of Glaston, but his image had never really impressed her.

  He was standing in the entryway talking to Sam and keeping a careful eye on Cade’s glowering expression, when Marly descended the stairs. Dressed in jeans, a thick sweater and a leather jacket, she knew she looked more than ready for a ride on his new Harley. Not that she was looking forward to it, but anything to further the cause.

  “Great, you’re ready.” Relief was thick in Dillon’s voice as he shifted beneath Cade’s regard once again. “It’s not too cool this evening, so you shouldn’t get cold.”

  Marly smiled sweetly at him, glancing at Cade beneath her lashes. He was watching her silently, broodingly, as Sam fought to keep from smiling. Darkly handsome, his gray eyes probing and intense, he was the epitome of the strong, dangerous male. Damn, she wished he were easier to seduce.

  “I shouldn’t be late, Cade.” She walked over to him, standing on her tiptoes to plant a slow, brief kiss on his jaw. He was warm and hard, and mad as hell. “But don’t wait up on me just in case.”

  She turned just in time to see Sam wince.