Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(146)

thundering heart. Was this side of him more dangerous than his Dom side? She had

experience dealing with brash Bennett. This dateable Ben? Not so much.


But she wanted to see this side of him too. Maybe he just needed encouragement that she

’d accept this side of him.


Their eyes met. Then their lips. The kiss wasn’t much more than a simple peck.


“So, call me tomorrow, friend,” she murmured.


“Ainsley, I don’t know if I can be—”


“That was not a request.” She kissed him again, then firmly shoved him out the door.


Chapter Twenty-Four


Ben rang Ainsley’s doorbell again. He’d tried calling her cell several times and she

hadn’t picked up.


Maybe it was an excuse, showing up on her doorstep, but something felt…off. Something

besides the bogus friendship she was trying to force on him.


Jesus. He didn’t want to be her f*cking friend. In the last two days he’d already

seen her pulling away. Not only from him, but from her submissive side. Trying to

remake him into the type of guy he wasn’t, denying her nature and attempting to change

their relationship into something it never had been and never would be: normal.


Ben was starting to lose her. That thought had driven him bat-shit crazy all day after

she hadn’t returned any of his calls. Hopefully she hadn’t reverted to old habits,

like that post-date game mind-f*ck where the woman waited a certain amount of time

before returning her date from the previous night’s calls, so as to not appear too

eager.


Fuck that. They weren’t goddamn dating. She needed a reminder of what they were

together. Of how right it was. And if he had to wait until the loan went through, to

prove it to her, so be it. But he wouldn’t lie to her and he wouldn’t allow her to

lie to herself.



So yeah, he was going all beastly Dom on her ass.


Frustrated, he turned the door handle. Locked. But the door snicked open because it

hadn’t been fully latched. That wasn’t good. Ainsley was vigilant about locking the

door.


Ben stepped inside.


The cats stared at him from the end of the hallway.


“Ainsley?”


No answer.


He scanned the living room. Her purse was on the chair, along with her coat. Her car

keys and cell phone were on the side table.


He peeked in the kitchen, no sign of her. He headed down the short hallway. When he

flipped on the lights in her bedroom, he noticed the sheets were twisted, the quilt

thrown back, pillows scattered across the floor.


His heart damn near stopped at seeing her curled up on the bathroom floor. “Shit.” He

crouched beside her body and found her pulse in her neck, thank God. “Ainsley?” Ben

placed his hand on her forehead. “Baby. You’re burning up.”


“Ben?”


“I’m here, angel. Stay with me. I need to get you to the emergency room.”


“No doctors.”


“Tough shit.”


“I won’t go.” She tried to roll away.


He held her still and tamped down his fear. “Then what should I do?”


She mumbled, “Call Joely.”