Cowboy Strong

Going Down Fighting

Ty Covington likes to keep things as uncomplicated as possible. By day, all that matters to him is his horse and winning in the rodeo ring. At night, all he wants is a deliciously hot, no-strings affair with his rival, Kenzie Malone. Then everything changes in one heart-stopping split second.

The accident should have killed both Ty and his horse. Instead, they’re both on the road to a hard recovery—but only thanks to Kenzie’s family connections and fortune. Which means he owes her. He owes a woman who is both everything he despises and his deepest desire. As need—hungry and demanding—takes them both over, Ty knows that this time, uncomplicated isn’t an option. And this cowboy always pays his debts...

“I can take you...” she managed to say.

Ty nuzzled the back of Kenzie’s neck. “Not if I take you first.”

His words fed a primal need in her to be claimed, while her mind screamed they were in public, could be seen. And wasn’t that the crux of involvement with Ty? There was always a risk, always that telltale touch of spontaneity that was his calling card, that thing that always made sex as fun as it was pleasurable.

“When did little Kenzie Malone decide she liked the risk of getting caught?” he whispered, his lips barely brushing the top of her ear.

“If you’d park your boots beside the bed for longer than a couple of hours, I would imagine there would be a lot you’d learn about the women you take to bed, Covington, including me.” He snapped his head back. “That’s what I thought,” she murmured, pulling on her arms.

And like every other experience she’d had with him, he let go and was out the door before she could ask him to stay.

Dear Reader,

As I wrote this story, I found myself often grieving the fact that this is the end of the Covington brothers’ stories. There is something inherently poignant about writing the last book in a trilogy, particular when the story centers around characters as tightly knit as these men. They’ve been so much fun to write and even more fun to share with you as the stories built and the world grew.

I do have a confession, though. Despite the fact I’m the author and should, in theory, know how the story goes, Ty’s story presented a handful of surprises as I wrote—some heartbreaking before they could be happy. This posed some challenges, and I had a blast making it all work. (And rest easy—Ty and Kenzie end up with exactly what they need.) The experience created a final product I was—and am—able to look at with pride. This is a series that will forever hold a special place in my heart. Seeing the brothers find success and love has been an absolute thrill.

I want to thank you for riding along.

And while this is the last book for the Covington brothers, wise words from a fellow author helped remind me that this isn’t over. The brothers will live on every time someone picks up one of their stories. And there are always the ranch hands who have stories to tell...

Happy reading,

Kelli Ireland

Cowboy Strong

Kelli Ireland

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KELLI IRELAND spent a decade as a name on a door in corporate America. Unexpectedly liberated by Fate’s sense of humor, she chose to carpe the diem and pursue her passion for writing. A fan of happily-ever-afters, she found she loved being the puppet master for the most unlikely couples. Seeing them through the best and worst of each other while helping them survive the joys and disasters of falling in love? Best. Thing. Ever. Visit Kelli’s website at kelliireland.com.

To my father-in-law, a large-animal veterinarian who looks and sounds enough like Sam Elliott to terrify folks. I think it’s the mustache.

I’ve got your number, though. Ranger cookies.

Love you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

Extract

Copyright

1

TYSON COVINGTON LEANED against the end of the trailer and waited on the person he considered his personal dealer in ecstasy to deliver. It wasn’t as though he was addicted. He could stop any time he wanted to. He just didn’t want to. The level of feel-good that was about to change hands was insane. And cheap. It could be worse. Much worse.

“Number seventy-two,” the matronly woman in the portable kitchen called as she slid his order through the trailer’s narrow delivery window and across the short counter. “Funnel cake, extra powdered sugar, and a large lemonade.”

Ty stepped around the corner of the trailer. “Thank you, ma’am.” He tipped his hat to her before tucking the plastic cup between his arm and body, juggling the grease-stained paper plate in his hands.

If he ever met a woman who could whip these up for him? His single days would be over. For regular funnel cake access, even he would consider marriage.

A large barn fan kicked on and swept away the extra powered sugar. Ty clutched his plate tighter as the dense cloud of sugary goodness dissipated in the air.

Ty tore off a wedge of the hot treat and shoved it in his mouth. Sucking in a breath at the burn, he inhaled a lungful of powdered sugar. All the willpower in the world couldn’t stop him from choking. He coughed hard and blew out what looked like a face full of illegal substance all over the back of a nearby cowboy’s dark denim shirt.