Trapped with the Texan: A sexy Western romance

By Joanne Rock

Stranded together…and then crossing the line! Don’t miss this Texas Cattleman's Club: Heir Apparent novel by USA TODAY bestselling author Joanne Rock.

Is he her shelter from the storm…

Or her biggest mistake?

Valencia Donovan’s plan to dazzle the wealthy investor she needs for her horse rescue start-up takes an unexpected turn when a tornado strands her with Lorenzo Cortez-Williams. Giving in to attraction in a desperate moment only makes them hungry for more. After they've blown away all boundaries, Valencia’s treacherous feelings for the guarded ranching heir could jeopardize her lifelong dream. But closing the deal—while walking away from their intimate affair—could cost her even more…

From Harlequin Desire: Luxury, scandal, desire—welcome to the lives of the American elite.

Love triumphs in these uplifting romances, part of the Texas Cattleman's Club: Heir Apparent series:

Book 1: Back in the Texan's Bed by Naima Simone
Book 2: At the Rancher's Pleasure by Joss Wood
Book 3: Blue Collar Billionaire by Karen Booth
Book 4: The Trouble with Bad Boys by Katherine Garbera
Book 5: Texas Tough by Janice Maynard
Book 6: Trapped with the Texan by Joanne Rock
Book 7: How to Catch a Bad Boy by Cat Schield
Book 8: Bidding on a Texan by Barbara Dunlop

• Language: English
• Publisher: Harlequin Desire
• Release date: Jul 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9780369708014

Joanne Rock

 

Book preview

One

Earbuds in place, Valencia Donovan cranked up the volume of her music while she rocked out discreetly in the parking lot of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. Seated in the driver’s seat of her late-model pickup truck, she sang along to her personal playlist labeled Game Time Hype, even though her appointment within the walls of the prestigious, members-only club was no game.

Fiery girl-power anthems weren’t anything she’d normally listen to at home or while working at her ranch. But as a dedicated overachiever, Valencia appreciated the ferocity of the lyrics before she had to give an important business pitch. She might be well beyond the age of her high school basketball days when she’d first started the playlist, but she wasn’t about to mess with her winning streak now. Not when she really, really needed an investment from Lorenzo Cortez-Williams to expand her horse rescue operation.

Closing her eyes, she pumped her fist and let the final strains of the song flow over her while she visualized her success.

Slam. Dunk.

Smiling, she turned off the music once her energy fired to life. And yes, maybe she glanced around the parking lot just a smidge self-consciously to see if anyone noticed her antics. But she’d parked in the farthest corner of the lot. Now, tossing the earbuds aside, she slid out of the truck and locked the doors behind her. She paused long enough to check her reflection in the side mirror, smoothing down a few curls that had sprouted in the humidity.

Her pre-meeting routine might be on the corny side, but the outfit she wore was conservative enough. A navy blue sheath dress with a matching jacket and nude sling-back pumps. She wasn’t a member of the TCC herself, but she knew how the other half lived. Her adoptive family had raised her to be comfortable in this world, and Valencia had shaken off the dirt of her roots a long time ago. Her unhappy early childhood did not define her.

Checking her watch as she entered the dark-stone-and-wood historic building, she noted that she was precisely on time for her meeting. Which would undoubtedly work in her favor. The retired rancher whom she was meeting was a septuagenarian with deep pockets and a reputation for philanthropy. She intended to dazzle him with her business plan for Donovan Horse Rescue, and solidify the final necessary funds to expand the rescue so she could develop an equine therapy component in the form of a summer camp for kids. Her charitable foundation had already been promised a portion of the funds raised by the ticket sales to Soiree on the Bay, an upcoming food, art and wine festival on Appaloosa Island.

Today’s meeting could yield the rest.

Miss Donovan? a man’s warm baritone greeted her.

Valencia glanced up from her watch to meet the intent regard of a wildly handsome man. He had dark brown hair and dark eyes framed by heavy brows. A deeply tanned complexion that she guessed was more due to heritage than the sun. And his gray pants and black shirt were tailored in such a way that she couldn’t help but notice how broad-shouldered and fit he was. Valencia sighed appreciatively as she continued to drink him in. Well over six feet, this guy loomed over her, and she was not a petite woman. Even without the expensive-looking boots he wore, he would still be tall.

Yikes! How long had she been standing there ogling him?

Her manners returned along with a hint of dismay. Since when did a hot-looking man turn her head? Especially when she had just played her game-time hype playlist and needed all her focus?

Yes. I’m Valencia Donovan. She gave him a polite smile while hoping her racing thoughts didn’t show on her face.

Dressed as he was, he couldn’t possibly work at the Texas Cattleman’s Club, but she also couldn’t imagine who else would greet her by name.

Lorenzo Cortez-Williams. He extended his hand. A pleasure to meet you.

Oh. Confused, she clasped his palm automatically upon hearing the name. But hadn’t her meeting been with a much older man? The extremely compelling rancher whose hand enveloped hers couldn’t be more than thirty-five years old. I’m sorry. I thought—

You were expecting someone else? He smiled warmly while gesturing her ahead of him. Our table is this way.

Knocked off her game, Valencia took a deep breath as he relinquished her hand. She’d been too rattled to enjoy the touch even though her palm retained a hint of his warmth. Of course, she shouldn’t be enjoying skin-on-skin contact with a potential investor. Berating herself for the slipup, she shoved aside thoughts of her companion’s potent sex appeal and focused on business as she followed him through the dark wood-paneled corridors into the high-ceilinged dining area. Hunting trophies and historical artifacts provided understated decor where some of the most influential residents of Royal, Texas, enjoyed a meal.

I read your bio to prepare for the meeting, she admitted as he showed her to a quiet table in the back. And the photo of Lorenzo Cortez-Williams showed a man closer to my grandfather’s age.

"My granddad, no doubt. That’s the problem with inheriting the family moniker. There are two other formidable Lorenzos still bearing the same name. I’m Lorenzo the third. As he withdrew a high-backed leather chair for her at the round table, she couldn’t help but notice the ring finger on his left hand remained bare. My father is Lorenzo Junior. Gramp is the original."

Of course. She lowered herself into the chair he indicated, even as she struggled to recall what else she’d read about the Cortez-Williams family on their charitable website. Will either of them be joining us?

He slid her chair into place before taking the seat across from her. A waiter arrived to greet her at the same moment, bringing a carafe of water and pouring two glasses while taking their drink orders. When the server left, Lorenzo leveled that piercing brown-eyed gaze her way again. His full focus on her.

It will be just us today, Miss Donovan.

Please call me Valencia.

Only if you pay me the same courtesy. He lifted his glass of water and clinked it softly to hers before taking a sip. And I have taken over my grandfather’s former duties. Gramp has grown a soft heart for causes, and a few months ago we discovered he was on track to donate most of the family fortune.

She hid her renewed sense of dismay by taking her time spreading her napkin over her lap. Did the man seated across from her need to reel in the spending now? She wished she could go back in time and prepare for this meeting differently.

That must have been upsetting for your family, she murmured, before lifting her eyes to his. Was he aware that he was in danger of overextending? I hope his health is still sound.

Lorenzo was still regarding her steadily, his dark gaze unnerving her a bit. If they’d been in a dimly lit bar for drinks, she would have felt a feminine thrill at whatever chased through his brown eyes. But now, with the success of her dream on the line, it was distracting.

Gramp is in excellent health, thank you. He shuffled aside his menu. But we thought it best if I took over the vetting process for charitable donations. You’d be surprised how many con artists are out there.

Bristling at the implication, she forced a cool smile. I assure you, my efforts to rescue horses are very real. I can provide you with references. People who can vouch for my character.

I’m not questioning your integrity, Valencia. But as a representative of my family, I need to exercise caution since all of those things can be faked. There was a somberness in his expression that told her he’d had firsthand experience with those kinds of people.

The knowledge soothed her a bit, even as the last of her plans for this meeting crumpled under the need for a new approach.

I’m sorry to hear that there are folks who take advantage of your family’s generosity that way, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. She waited while their server returned with the iced tea she’d ordered. Then, listening to the waiter reel off the lunch specials, she chose the carne asada while Lorenzo asked for his usual. After he departed, Valencia returned to her subject with renewed determination. So tell me, how can I convince you that Donovan Horse Rescue is legitimate? Rest assured that I am emphatic about transparency with my finances.

The spark of interest in his smoldering eyes told her that he appreciated the approach.

For starters, just meeting you in person is helpful. I like to size up who I’m dealing with face-to-face. He took a pull from his longneck, his expression thoughtful.

I can’t argue with that. I rely on my instincts, too. What else can I tell you about the rescue?

I look forward to hearing all about it over lunch, he murmured, setting down the dark bottle. But I won’t be relying solely on my instincts when making my final decision. If I like what I hear today, I’ll want to visit Donovan Horse Rescue in person. Tour your facility and see what I think.

Fantastic. She welcomed the chance to have him see the ranch for himself. She was proud of what she’d built, and knew every detail of her expansion plan by heart so she could explain it to him while looking at the footprint of the anticipated new additions. I realize it’s short notice, but are you available after lunch today?

A shiver ran through her as she awaited his response. Because, as much as she anticipated selling him on her foundation, she also felt slightly wary of having this extremely compelling rancher walking around her personal space. She had the feeling Lorenzo Cortez-Williams would leave his mark somehow.

Which meant she needed to tread warily with a man who held the future of her mission in his hands.

Unfortunately, I have another appointment this afternoon. His words disappointed her more than they should have, making her aware that the undercurrent of sizzling attraction she felt hadn’t eased since they’d sat down. Are you free tomorrow, perhaps?

The smoky quality of his voice made the proposition feel more personal.

For the prospect of showing you my operation, I would gladly clear my schedule. But as it happens, I’m free all day.

She couldn’t have held back her grin. Strictly because she knew the rescue was impressive and would make her case for her. Not because she was already looking forward to seeing him again.

The rapid tattoo of her heartbeat, however, already called her a liar.

---

Business and pleasure don’t mix.

Lorenzo Cortez-Williams should have been the last man in Royal, Texas, who needed to repeat those words like a mantra. They’d been branded into his skin by his restaurateur fiancée, who’d targeted him for his wealth, ran up his credit cards and then disappeared from his life five years ago. After she’d signed his family’s beef company to a cut-rate deal for her restaurants, a deal that had seared more resentment into him with each passing year until it was done.

So why did he need to pull into a local coffee shop to remind himself of the necessary separation between work and play, lest he show up at Donovan Horse Rescue too early for his appointment with Valencia Donovan? Probably because the woman attracted him like no one else ever had. Ex-fiancée included. Valencia had impressed him with more than her smarts even though her business acumen came across immediately during their meeting. There’d been a warmth of spirit about her obvious love for horses, a commitment to her mission that practically shone out of her eyes when she spoke. He’d been...captivated.

Tightening his grip on the take-out cup from the drive-through, Lorenzo steered his truck back onto the county route that would lead to Valencia’s place, reminding himself that he wouldn’t be seeing her again after today. He’d already taken the liberty of ordering an investigation of her and her business, a practice that he’d leaned on after discovering how many scammers had shaken money out of the family’s charitable fund in the past. Not to mention the fiasco with Lindsey that had made him question his own judgment. His private investigator was discreet. Thorough. And Lorenzo now had a detailed report on Valencia that showed her in a favorable light. At only thirty years old, she’d already blazed quite an illustrious path for herself. She’d aced high school and college, accumulating awards and honors for her community involvement even as a teen, before going onto tremendous success in the corporate world during her eight-year stint with an agricultural company based in Dallas.

Valencia’s early childhood was a gray area since she’d been adopted when she was young and there was little information available about her formative years. Yet considering all she’d accomplished since then, Lorenzo was prepared to move forward with her request if he liked what he saw at the rescue today.

Assuming he could look at anything but her. How many times had he thought about her intelligent brown eyes taking his measure when she first saw him? There’d been a moment before she realized that she’d be meeting with him, when her response to him had been purely feminine. She’d hidden it fast and thoroughly once she’d recognized her error, but he couldn’t get that look out of his head. Last night, he’d spent far too long letting their innocuous encounter spin out into other, more provocative scenarios in his mind.

Now he turned into the gravel drive that led to her place, his oversize pickup truck dipping into an uneven patch despite the high-grade suspension. Settling his drink into the cupholder so he could keep both hands on the wheel, he noted the creek’s proximity and an equipment barn that looked like it had been recently upgraded. An unassuming one-story stone house sat on a low hill overlooking the creek, but the simple