Free Dark Horse: Bad Boy Cowboy Romance by Samantha Westlake Page A

confidence so he can rob you! Or maybe he wants to do something even worse to you!" His eyes ran over my body, suggesting what the man wasn't willing to say out loud.
    I just crossed my arms beneath my breasts as I glared back. "Marsden, he's already earned my confidence - as a friend," I insisted. "And what's there to steal from my house? It's not as if I keep a bunch of priceless art statues around."
    Marsden opened his mouth to respond, but I kept on talking, barreling over him. "And as for the other thing you're suggesting, well, that means that you don't trust me!" I said hotly. "Do you trust me to stay faithful to you?"
    "What? Of course I do!" he replied immediately.
    "Well, then you'll have to trust that I won't decide to suddenly throw away everything we have and sleep with the man who's staying with me!" I shot back. "Because if you are worried about the two of us sleeping together, that means that you don't trust me to stay faithful to you. And if that's the case, we've got a much bigger problem than him staying in my guest bedroom."
    I waited a beat as my fiancé said nothing. "Is that the case?"
    "No, that's not a problem," he finally stated - but as he turned the engine of the car over and headed out of my driveway and into town for our dinner together, I could feel him sulking still beside me.
    Well, that was a great first meeting, I thought sourly to myself as we drove out into the setting sun. Just how I imagined it going.
    I prayed that the restaurant he'd selected would have a good wine selection.

Chapter thirteen
    A few hours later, I was feeling much better about how the evening had gone, although I was probably influenced in part by the wine currently sloshing around my stomach and sending little bubbles up to my brain.
    Marsden had done well in picking a restaurant, at least. The place had all the necessary romantic qualities, with white tablecloths, red velvet curtains, candles, and a nicely dim interior. The waiters were prompt and courteous, the food came out smelling (and tasting!) just as delicious as anything that Lance had cooked for me during his time living with me, and best of all, they had a great wine selection!
    By the time I pushed my mostly demolished plate of chicken piccata away from me, I was nearly done with my third glass, and feeling much better about how things had gone. Sure, there'd been a little hiccup with the two men currently in my life meeting each other, but they'd surely manage to get past this uncomfortable first impression! And then, well, everything would be just fine and dandy!
    Across the table from me, it looked like Marsden was also feeling better. Although he'd still worn a stormy frown when we first entered the restaurant, his mood slowly rose, helped along by the large steak he'd demolished. By the time the waiter arrived with the dessert menus, he was happily telling me about one of his recent cattle deals, waving his hands animatedly as he described his profit margins or something.
    "And seriously, it's amazing, I totally scored a great deal," he said happily, covering up a burp with one hand. "Oh, what's this?"
    "The dessert menu, sir," the waiter replied politely. "How are we feeling? Some creme brulee, perhaps? Maybe a nice fruit tart?"
    I considered the idea of dessert, but I already felt warm and stuffed with food. "Maybe just another glass of wine," I suggested gaily, waving my nearly empty glass in a little circle in the air.
    The waiter nodded - quite politely, I thought to myself through a slight fog, considering how drunkenly I was acting. He collected the menu back from me, gave Marsden and me a little nod, and then headed off to refill my glass.
    Not that it was an act on my part, I pointed out to myself. I'd been holding myself back to maybe one glass of wine per night for the last week or so. The three glasses - or was it four? - that I'd consumed so far this evening had gone right to my head, and I felt a good bit past tipsy.
    I reached out for