This obviously isn’t a photo of my book cover for Secret Heart. I haven’t gotten that made yet. This is a photo of one of the most beautiful missions in the area. The inside is just as lovely, if not more so, than the outside.

Chapter 2 of my romantic intrigue entitled Secret Heart is attached here for those who want to read it. I really enjoyed writing this book and hope people enjoy reading it. Secret Heart isn’t a thought-provoking book, rather it’s one I wrote simply to entertain.

As always, please feel free to comment if you want. There is a comment section to the left at the top of this page.

SECRET HEART

Chapter 2

 

Luke couldn’t believe that he’d attacked a woman. Staring into her captivating eyes, he was entranced to the point of immobility. If it hadn’t been for those eyes, he would have pounced on her with fists flying in vengeance. Instead, all of the fight drained from him. His heart filled with remorse for once again losing control of his temper.

An unexpectedly intense desire to coddle her, to show her how much he regretted his actions, erupted within him. And the best way to do that was to take her to his place.

Why was she wearing men’s clothes, gloves, and a knit hat that hid her hair, anyway? he wondered as he willed himself into action. Reaching down, he yanked the cap from her head. She shied from his movement, but she couldn’t escape—not with his trained rodeo horse dutifully keeping the rope taut until he signaled her release.

 

Tossing the cap aside, he spoke again. Despite the gentle tone, his deep voice increased the terror chilling Ashleigh. “You’re coming with me.”

When she opened her mouth to scream, not even a squeak burst forth. This giant man freeing her legs was in total control, and there was nothing she could do to protect herself. Finally, he lifted her to her feet. She stared up at him in awe. She’d never been so close to someone his size. At five-foot-ten, she was tall. But he had to be more than a foot taller than she and at least a hundred and fifty pounds heavier.

As frightened as she was, something told her that he posed no danger. Still, she had to escape. If she didn’t, he could hurt her—or even worse, he could take her back to Britain and what awaited her there.

The moment he moved from in front of her, she bolted toward the cabin. Somehow she had to get inside and lock the doors. Even though her voice was apparently blocked by her fear, her body wasn’t. She could still get away from the man.

He had no right to treat her like this. She was a lady and deserved better. If she could find her voice, she would tell him that, too. But she’d been raised to never talk to strangers, and this was one time she would follow her parents’ orders. She wouldn’t cooperate with this man if her life depended on it, which could literally be the case.

She hadn’t even taken five steps when his arm encircled her waist. Her feet left the ground, and he lifted her like she weighed only ten pounds. How could she ever get away from this man when he was so quick and so strong?

 

“Whoa there!” he exclaimed, swinging her leg over his horse. Luke studied her once she sat astride Ramses.

Her back was straight, her head held proudly, giving her an almost regal appearance. With a slow shake of his head, he stroked her hair. Although she had to be afraid, he’d never seen such defiance in any woman’s eyes. She even showed it by trying to dodge his touch. The right thing to do was untie her, but he was afraid she would leave if he did. And he wanted her to stay—so he could make up for the way he’d treated her. At least, he thought that was the reason. In a desperate attempt to conceal his unexpected confusion, he spoke cheerfully.

“Pretty spunky, aren’t you. I’ll just have to hold onto you so you don’t fall off. If I untie you like I was going to, you’ll try to take off with my trusty steed.”

 

As soon as he turned to retrieve his rope, Ashleigh drove her heels into the horse’s ribs. It didn’t even matter that the stirrups were far too long for her. She was an accomplished horsewoman and could ride without her hands. Instead of the horse responding to her nonverbal command, however, it simply twisted its neck to gaze at her. Didn’t that stubborn animal know he was supposed to move? She kicked him again, harder.

“I told you he’s trusty,” he said as he draped his rope over the saddle horn.

A loud, irate, unanticipated expletive burst forth from her mouth, startling her. “Bastard!”

The man’s eyes widened; his jaw dropped in shock. In that instant, she wanted to laugh because of his obvious disbelief that a lady would call him a bastard. But the next instant, she realized that this man was temporarily incapable of movement. Seizing her chance, she swung her leg over the horse’s neck, dropped to the ground on the animal’s right. and started running back to the cabin again.

But this time something came over her. She tried to ignore the pain in her arm, the tinny buzzing in her ears, the bright flashes of pin-lights before her eyes.

“Hey, wait!” he called.

Ashleigh pushed herself onward, only glancing at the dog running beside her.

“Stop her, Brutus! Don’t let her get away!”

The dog beside her barked but made no move to follow his master’s command. Then a strong hand clamped down on her shoulder. With a squeal, she spun out of his grasp. She’d barely set her foot down on her second step when fingers firmly wrapped around her upper arm while his free hand came down on her other shoulder, bringing her to an abrupt halt that nearly made her fall. Ashleigh was sure that the only thing keeping her on her feet was this strong man’s hold.

Overwhelmed by a mixture of fury and fear, Ashleigh turned her head and sank her teeth into the hand, rapidly increasing the pressure until the man bellowed in pain. But instead of releasing her again as she had hoped, he let go of her shoulder then spun her toward him.

Her body was propelled against the hard wall of a man, bounced once, and then came to rest against him as he enfolded her into his secure embrace. Despite the pain in her arm, she continued struggling to free herself. But those struggles were weak due to the encroaching blackness that threatened her.

 

Luke inhaled sharply. The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the wonderful agony of desire growing in his loins as she squirmed against him. If she could turn him on when she was angry and afraid, he would be powerless if she ever tried to seduce him.

What was he thinking! He’d assaulted the woman. She would never even dream of seducing him.

“Stop moving like that,” he ordered, surprising himself when his voice came out in a mere whisper, “or we’ll both be in trouble with the law.”

She halted all movement except to shoot her startled gaze to his face. She stared up at him with her mouth gaping slightly.

Gazing down at her, Luke sighed heatedly. She was awfully pretty in an innocent sort of way, and now that she was still, he realized that her movement hadn’t had anything to do with his arousal. There was something about this woman that attracted him, and he suddenly had a deep desire to find out what it was. Before he could do that, though, he had to earn her trust after what he’d done.

“I want to let you go,” he admitted, “but I’m afraid you’ll run off. If I promise not to take you to the cops, will you promise to stay put?”

 

Ashleigh studied him through the haze of dizziness which refused to leave her. Something was wrong; she was really sick. She wanted to trust this man, but she was afraid it would be foolhardy. If she trusted him, though, he might get her some Pepto Bismol to stop her nausea. Unfortunately, at the moment she’d lost all energy, but she couldn’t let him know that.

Choosing her words carefully, she said, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

A smile came to his lips. “I understand. You don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you. But I’m going to trust you so you can learn to trust me. If nothing else, it’ll be a start.”

Slowly releasing her, he moved back one step. Still, her eyes didn’t leave his face.

“Now, I’m going to untie you,” he announced. “I won’t make any sudden moves. I promise.”

True to his word, he kept his actions slow and deliberate as he carefully untied her wrists then stuffed the small rope into his jeans pocket.

He was speaking to her again; she could hear his deep, gentle voice. But that buzzing sound was getting louder. The flashes of bright spots were swimming in her eyes with relentless intensity, and the pain in her arm was almost more than she could bear. In the hope of some reprieve, she decided to give herself over to the quiet blackness that seemed so determined to engulf her.

 

Stunned, Luke stared down at her for several seconds while Brutus nudged her shoulder with his snout. One minute she stood before him with defiance and distrust gleaming in her eyes; the next, she lay crumpled at his feet.

“Dear God,” he groaned, dropping to his knees. “What have I done?”

Rolling her from her side to her back, he smoothed back her hair.

 

What a nice, nice feeling, Ashleigh thought as a large, caressing hand tenderly stoked her hair and cheek. She’d been having a terrible nightmare of a huge man chasing her, assaulting her, holding her so close that she could actually feel his desire harden against her hip. Now this incredibly delicious sensation of tenderness was waking her up. Leaning her head against the hand, she moaned pleasurably.

“Thank God,” he sighed in relief.

His deep voice startled Ashleigh, and she instantly opened her eyes. She was just about to scramble away when she saw his bright smile. His calm, reassuring tone stopped her as surely as the pain in her arm when she moved it. She inhaled sharply as he spoke again.

“I know I terrified you, but it was a case of mistaken identity—kind of. I thought you were a man from the way you’re dressed. Right now, though, I need to get you to some light. You fainted for some reason, and I want to check you over to see if you’re okay.”

Determined not to let him see her vulnerable side, she replied with a bitter tone in her voice. “I’m fine.”

“I just want to see for myself,” he said. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her to his horse and set her in the saddle. Then, with a single, easy motion, he mounted behind it and drew her against him before urging Ramses into a canter.

Despite the way he’d treated her, Ashleigh felt safe in his embrace. He was different from other men she knew—and such a total contrast to William it was amazing! Remembering that this stranger had been violent was hard to do as they moved on the horse in unison. His actions were so tender now that she was beginning to relax, but the pain in her arm was a constant reminder that he could hurt her again. Unfortunately, the combination of fear and security did nothing to relieve her anxiety about the immediate future.

And if he thought that she would learn to trust him, he was completely wrong. She would never trust another man for as long as she lived. Well, maybe one, she thought. She would always trust Rex. He was the only man who had never betrayed her—including her father who, although she adored him, had hurt her very deeply when she’d heard of the brief affair he’d had when she was a teenager.

Men were scum. It was as simple as that. And she would never let another one get close to her again—emotionally, anyway. Physically she wasn’t sure about.

 

Luke imagined he could feel her softness through her clothing, but something in her bearing told him to keep his distance. She was no ordinary woman; she was too controlled, too sure of herself. If she weren’t, she never would have tried to ride his horse with her hands tied—or fought so valiantly to escape from him. She was an excellent rider, too. He really didn’t need to hold her; but having her in his arm seemed so appropriate, so natural, that he couldn’t release her. Giving her side a caressing squeeze, he sighed.

 

What was he doing? Ashleigh wondered with her heart pounding. Why was he holding her like that? Why did it make her want more! And where was he taking her? Obviously, not to the cabin because they were heading in the direction he had come. Hopefully, he wasn’t headed toward the nearest police station. She certainly didn’t want to be deported back to England.

Panic overtook her. Maybe he was taking her someplace where she would be his captive! And there was clearly no escape from this man, his horse, and his pair of enormous dogs.

Then she saw the ranch house in the dark distance and sighed with relief. This man must be Luke Bradford. From what Paul said, though, Luke hated trespassers with a passion so strong his temper ruled his logic, and so far he’d proven Paul right. But Paul had also said that Luke would never hurt a woman—and that had been wrong! Although, Luke did seem appropriately regretful of his actions, which accounted for something, she supposed.

When they were in the stable, he dismounted then faced Ashleigh. To her astonishment, he stared down at her. Apparently, he found it impossible to look away as he lifted her from his horse. He released her slowly, and even she was shocked that she held this giant of a man captive with her gaze. For several seconds after she was on the ground, he didn’t move. The close proximity was enticing.

Ashleigh inhaled sharply, not at the pain in her arm but at the intense desire that he kiss her which overwhelmed her. Why did he create such strong sensations in her when he wasn’t even touching her? Why did this complete stranger fill her with a heat beyond her wildest dreams, beyond propriety? No other man had ever caused a completely physical reaction in her. The only way to combat these sensations was to remember that he was capable of uncontrolled violence. In an attempt to still her growing anxiety, Ashleigh licked her parched lips to moisten them.

He exhaled with a low groan as he shifted his gaze to her slightly parted lips. Slowly, almost tentatively, he grasped her head with both hands then traced her lips with his thumbs.

Then without warning, he released her and helped her to sit in the hay near the smaller fawn-colored mastiff. Calling to the larger mastiff nearby, he watched with a smile as the dog playfully bounded to him.

“Keep an eye on her, Samson. Brutus seems to have taken a liking to her, and he might let her leave me.” Returning his dark gaze to her, he shook his head. “I can’t let that happen.”

With the canines standing sentry, Ashleigh examined the stranger as he led Ramses into a stall and unsaddled him. So this handsome man was Luke Bradford. He looked very little like Paul, except for the slightly hooked nose. The brothers were handsome in opposite ways, but Luke far exceeded Paul. His dark complexion and black hair and eyes added a ruggedness to his features. Yes, the man extending his hand to tentatively grasp her upper right arm was much more attractive than Paul. And much more dangerous! Why couldn’t she remember that so she could remain aloof?

Thank goodness, she had her wits again. Now she would show him what she thought of his treatment. No matter what Paul had told her about cooperating with Luke, she wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t speak to him again—not a word—and she certainly wouldn’t do anything he told her to.

As she struggled against him, Luke half-led, half-dragged her up the stairs to the second floor. With a flick of the light switch, he directed her to the dark brown, leather sofa in the lounge of what appeared to be his bedroom suite.

“Well, Ashleigh, do you want something to drink while you explain why you’re staying in my cabin?”

Luke settled into the large leather chair adjacent to the couch while she stared at him in amazement. How did he know her name? If he’d already spoken to Paul, he would be calling her Lenore, but he had called her by her first name.

Grinning mischievously, Luke explained, “I saw your sketches in my cabin, and every one was signed the same—Ashleigh, and that’s all. I assume you have a last name, too.”

Her determination not to divulge any information was lost in her astonishment, and she replied shyly. “Ogden, but it’s Lenore.”

“Here I was all set to trust you, and you give me a phony name like Lenore. I hope you realize that I don’t believe you for a second.” Her disbelief drew a merry chuckle from him—the most honest, carefree laugh Ashleigh had ever heard. “You’re much too pretty, too self-assured, too sophisticated to be a Lenore Ogden. Although, looking back on it, a Lenore is much more likely to fight—and bite—like a wildcat. I’ll buy Ogden for now because you can never tell about last names, but your first name is definitely not Lenore.”

“All right,” she mumbled, bowing her head in embarrassment, “it’s Ashleigh.”

“I thought so. You look awfully pale. How about a glass of wine to calm your nerves? I know I scared you pretty badly, and I really am sorry. You can even have something stronger than wine. I have a fully-stocked bar downstairs, and I can have something brought up in no time.”

“I’d prefer an ice pack,” she replied, returning her gaze to his face.

He studied her for several seconds. “An ice pack?”

“Please. I sprained my wrist.”

In an instant, he was at her side, helping her out of her jacket and gloves while asking which wrist was injured. Luke carefully unbuttoned her left shirtsleeve then pushed it to her elbow. Instead of being swollen, her arm was deformed just above her wrist.

To suppress a cry of pain, Ashleigh bit the inside of her lower lip. The guilt growing in him would only increase if she showed the agony his tender care caused. Despite his rough treatment earlier, his soft touch and concerned voice showed his desire for atonement. Remaining aloof toward this giant stranger would take a lot more fortitude than she’d thought.

“Oh, my God!” he exclaimed. “Don’t move it. Keep it elevated. I’m going to make a couple calls in my bedroom.”