Captured by Cowboys (Doms of Destiny, Colorado 1)

“I will. You’ve got to trust me, too, Emmett. I’m no fool.” Although without her memories, she couldn’t be sure that was true.

“Okay then,” he said. “Enjoy your bath, Amber.”

“I will, cowboy. I will.”

He and his brothers were her whole world for the time being, at the very least until her memory returned. What choice did she have but to trust them? But more than that, she did trust them. Call it instinct, intuition, impulse, or whatever. She truly trusted them. They might be capable of some terrible things, but she couldn’t envision them doing anything that would harm her.

She grabbed the sponge on the side of the tub and plunged it beneath the water’s surface. Her thoughts were buzzing, though landing on no memory. Where did she come from? Why was she here? What accident had caused this? She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and moved down into the tub until her head was completely submerged. The image of the young boy floated through her mind’s eye. Something about this boy had to be important, but what? Who was he? Where was he? Then the apparition vanished. Trying to will the youth’s reflection back, she remained down in the water. But her injured head had no sway over what memories were locked away. Please. I want to remember. Nothing. When her lungs demanded oxygen, she pushed her upper body out of the water.

“What kind of person am I?” she asked herself silently, knowing Emmett was right there, ready to jump at her least little request.

She squeezed shampoo from the container into her hand. As she washed her hair, Amber considered several questions rolling through her mind, but one in particular stayed in the forefront, demanding an answer that just wouldn’t come. Who am I?

She didn’t have a clue. Not even one. Sinner or saint? Who knew? Maybe her past life was too awful, too painful to return to. Had she been running from something—or someone? Could having one’s memory wiped clean be a blessing, a restart, or some kind of new birth? Maybe. Still, she wanted to know something. A thread. A crumb. What about the boy? Was that a true memory or some fantasy her addled brain had produced? Again, the broken synaptic paths in her brain remained painfully mute on the subject.

Plunging back under the water, she threaded her hands through her long hair, rinsing each strand of

the shampoo. The only memories that came from this submerging were of the past hour, memories of the three cowboys who were so attentive, so kind, and so damn good looking—incredibly so.

She came up for a much-needed breath. She squeezed out the water in her hair. “What can I do to fix this?” she asked aloud.

Instantly, Emmett was by her side. “What do you need, Amber?” His face stormed with obvious worry.

Smiling, she shook her head. “Apparently, I’m the kind of person who talks to themselves when trying to solve a problem. I might be crazy, you know. Would you happen to have a straightjacket handy?”

“You’re definitely not crazy,” he said with a tone of authority that hit her between the eyes. Even his stare was emphatic when it came to his belief in her mental capacity.

She wasn’t so sure. Perhaps she had escaped some kind of mental institution. Anything was possible. Absolutely anything. “And how would you know?”

“Believe me, I know crazy, which isn’t what you are. You sure you don’t need anything?” His eyes, his beautiful eyes, were two tiny windows she couldn’t bear to look away from.

“I’m really good. Feeling better, too. Who knows? Maybe this bath will bring back my past.”

He touched her cheek so gently. “If that’s what’s best for you, then I hope it happens, sweetheart. I’ll be one step away.” He went back to his guard post on the porcelain.

Chapter Four

Amber’s mind drifted. Emmett was so quiet she couldn’t even hear his breathing. She closed her eyes, and a towering wall stood in front of her. On the other side of that imaginary wall was her past, her thoughts, her memories, and who knew what else.

Time alone.

Time to figure out what she did know and if she was crazy or not. How could she get past this wall? There seemed to be no door anywhere. It was too tall to climb. In her gut, she knew it was too deep to dig under, too thick to crush. The more she thought about the thing, the more dread, awful and sobering, welled up inside her. Emmett had said words that reached into her very bones and made her wonder if she should leave well enough alone. “If that’s what’s best for you…”

Had she built the wall as a defense to some terrible past?

What do I know?

She was a woman. She was American. Holding up her hands in front of her eyes, she counted ten fingers. Raising her feet out of the warm water, she wiggled her ten toes. Good. Auburn hair. Other than those few facts, she didn’t know a damn thing about her past, and that was terrifying and frustrating. Was someone looking for her? The rainstorm continued outside, mocking her with every crash of thunder.

This was the twenty-first century, for crying out loud. Women didn’t act like helpless damsels who needed big, tough cowboys to save them. Why was she surrendering so quickly to their rescue? Then it hit her. It’s the twenty-first century. I remembered that. If she could recall that fact, couldn’t she recall more? It made sense—quite a lot of sense.

Excitement rolled through her as hope flamed hot. I’m going to remember. She would allow herself the pleasure of a short soak. The culinary-challenged cowboys were certainly still working on her meal. She would eat every bite. They deserved that from her at the very least for all they’d done for her.

She bent her knees slightly, slipping down into the water until all that remained above the shiny surface was her head. The tension she’d felt in her muscles began to fade. Even the ache in her forehead softened. She drifted into a hazy, warm state of consciousness. The wall was gone, thankfully. It was too scary to deal with now. Why not enjoy this amazing bath and let her worries fade? Every speck of strain in her body released and softened. Her shoulders slumped, her breathing relaxed, and her eyes grew so very heavy. Lingering in the warm water, she succumbed to her fatigue. Gone was the worry of who she was or where she’d come from. In its place came softening thoughts. Drifting into a delicious, trancelike state, the world faded into the background. Gone was the claw-foot tub and warm water. Gone, too, was her pain. Memories didn’t matter in this space of steam and dreams. The sensation of floating weightlessly seemed so very real.

Emmett’s face appeared, strong and confident. A little sigh left her lips. He was holding her in the road again, only this time, he was naked and so was she. His thick, manly lips came crashing down on hers with a force that caused her entire body to shudder, but the bulk of the quivering remained deep inside her pussy.

“Amber, you are so beautiful.” His words were masculine and truthful.