“Do you know how incredibly perfect you are?”
Zane’s hands wrapped around Jess’s waist, and thrilling warmth heated her skin. “I’m not.”
“You are. You can’t let what those two did to you change who you are. That guy was the stupidest man on earth. You have every right to feel hurt, Jess. But don’t let what he did change the person that you are.”
“You think that’s what I’m doing?”
“Isn’t it? You changed your hair, your eyes. You dress differently now. Don’t get me wrong, you look beautiful, sweetheart. But you were beautiful before.”
She shrugged. She found it hard to believe.
“I needed the change.” Tears misted in her eyes.
“I get that.” Zane took her into his arms and hugged her, as a friend now. “But promise me one thing?”
“What?”
“Don’t try to find what you need with another man. It makes me crazy.”
* * *
Her Forbidden Cowboy is part of the Moonlight Beach Bachelors series—Three men living in paradise … and longing for more.
Her Forbidden Cowboy
Charlene Sands
CHARLENE SANDS is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than thirty-five romance novels, writing sensual contemporary romances and stories of the Old West. Her books have been honored with a National Readers’ Choice Award, a CataRomance Reviewers’ Choice Award, and she’s a double recipient of the Booksellers’ Best Award. She belongs to the Orange County chapter and the Los Angeles chapter of RWA.
Charlene writes “hunky heroes with heart.” She knows a little something about true romance—she married her high school sweetheart! When not writing, Charlene enjoys sunny Pacific beaches, great coffee, reading books from her favorite authors and spending time with her family. You can find her on Facebook and Twitter. Charlene loves to hear from her readers! You can write her at PO Box 4883, West Hills, CA 91308, USA, or sign up for her newsletter for fun blogs and ongoing contests at charlenesands.com.
To our own Zane William (Pettis), the bright little light in our family. And to his mommy, Angi, and daddy, Kent, with love to all!
Contents
The heels of Jessica’s boots beat against the redwood of Zane Williams’s sun-drenched deck overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Shielded by the shade of an overhang, he didn’t miss a move his new houseguest made as he leaned forward on his chaise longue. His sister-in-law had officially arrived.
Was he still allowed to call her that?
Gusty breezes lifted her caramel hair, loosening the knot at the back of her head. A few wayward tendrils whipped across her eyes and, as she followed behind his assistant Mariah, her hand came up to brush them away. Late afternoon winds were strong on Moonlight Beach, swirling up from the shore as the sun lowered on the horizon. It was the time most sunbathers packed up their gear and went home and the locals came out. Shirt-billowing weather and one of the few things he’d come to like about California beach living.
He removed his sunglasses to get a better look at her. She wore a snowdrift-white blouse tucked into washed-to-the-millionth-degree jeans and a wide brown belt. Tortoiseshell-rimmed eyeglasses delicately in place didn’t hide the pain and distress in her eyes.
Sweet Jess. Seeing her brought back so many memories, and the frigidness in his heart thawed a bit.
She looked like...home.
It hurt to think about Beckon, Texas. About his ranch and the life he’d had there once. It hurt to think about how he’d met Jessica’s sister, Janie, and the way their small-town lives had entwined. In one respect, the tragedy that occurred more than two years ago might’ve been a lifetime ago. In another, it seemed as if time was standing still. Either way, his wife, Janie, and their unborn child were gone. They were never coming back. His mouth began to twitch. An ache in the pit of his stomach spread like wildfire and scorched him from the inside out.
He focused on Jessica. She carried a large tapestry suitcase woven in muted tones of gray and mauve and peach. He’d given Janie and Jessica matching luggage three years ago on their birthdays. It had been a fluke that both girls, the only two offspring of Mae and Harold Holcomb, were born on the same day, seven years apart.
Grabbing at the crutches propped beside his lounge chair, Zane slowly lifted himself up, careful not to fall and break his other foot. Mariah would have his head if he got hurt again. His casted wrist ached like the devil, but he refused to have his assistant come running every damn time he wanted to get up. It was bad enough she’d taken on the extra role of nursemaid. He reminded himself to have his business manager give Mariah a big fat bonus.
She halted midway on the deck, her disapproving gaze dropping to his busted wrist and crutches before she shot him a silent warning. “Here he is, Jessica.” Mariah’s peach-pie voice was sweet as ever for his houseguest. “I’ll leave you two alone now.”
“Thanks, Mariah,” he said.
Her mouth pursed tight, she about-faced and marched off, none too pleased