Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
So I hired her. I took it easy in those first few weeks. I didn’t push too hard, just to make sure she didn’t panic.
Look where that got me.
Fucked, no two ways about it.
I knew she was trouble the second she waltzed into my office looking like heaven in heels. I can’t deny I find the girl attractive—she has the kind of body she clearly works on—but I try to make it a point not to get entangled at work. My job is my life, and I prefer to keep everything neat and tidy.
I don’t get attached. I don’t do romance.
Except now I’m married.
Funny how that happens.
I manage a solid ten minutes of uninterrupted work when there’s a knock at the door. It opens before I call out, Fiona entering first, followed by Liam Crowley.
I sit back, trying not to look like someone just kicked me in the teeth.
What the fuck is Crowley doing here? And why is he with Fiona?
“Hello, husband,” she says, giving me the biggest, fakest fucking smile in the entire goddamn world. “Look who I found.”
“Wife,” I say, eyebrows raising. “And Mr. Crowley.”
“Liam,” he grunts, still standing, eyes narrowed. Looking like he’s scoping my office out. As if he’s not sure any of this is real.
What’s this crazy fucker up to?
Fiona comes over, around my desk, stoops down, and plants a chaste kiss on my lips.
Oh, absolutely not.
My heart races as something takes hold of me. This is my wife—my woman—and Liam Crowley’s standing there in my office watching like he’s judging everything we do.
I will take her and own her. I will mark her as mine, so that bizarre Irish gangster doesn’t get any ideas.
I reach out, grab her by the back of the neck, and hold her still as I kiss her for real.
If I’m going to use her as my wife, I’m going to do it properly.
She’s let out a soft little yelp of surprise, but I kiss her deep and slow. I taste her bottom lip, and yes, she fucking whimpers all right. I smother any protest she might have, smother it with my tongue, my taste. God damn, the girl can kiss.
I’ll make sure to mention that later.
Finally, she breaks away, glaring death at me. Her cheeks flushed red.
“Honeymoon phase,” Liam says with disgust. “I hope that wears off quickly.”
“I hope it never does,” Fiona says sounding suitably breathless. She composes herself and beams at me. Good, she better not try to pretend like she didn’t thoroughly enjoy that.
I sit back, feeling a bit smug. “How can I help you, Liam?”
“My father sent me down here to speak with you. And to handle some other unrelated business.” He sits down in front of my desk. Fiona remains standing at my elbow. I’m tempted to put my hand on her leg, but I’d better not push it. I’m not sure how good of an actress she is, and we don’t have a deal in place.
“And how has business been?” I ask.
“Good.” He stares at me for a long moment. “Father says he’s interested in bringing you on board. Assuming you and your wife can meet him this weekend. He has a beach house in Gloucester.”
“I’d be happy to visit him,” I say, eyebrows raised, panic hitting me suddenly. What the hell? Visit him this weekend in Gloucester? “I’ll have my assistant reach out to his assistant to arrange the details.”
Liam glances at Fiona. “That wouldn’t be you, would it?”
She gives him a sweet smile. “Of course not.”
Shit. Guess I have to hire a new assistant, and fast. “Is there anything else?” I ask, ready to wrap up this farce as soon as I can.
Liam shakes his head. “That’s all. Make the plans with my father.” He stands, eyes flitting between me and Fiona. “There’s something strange about the two of you. But I admit, I looked into your little relationship. It seems like it was fast, but you really are married.”
“Love knows no limits,” I say with a shrug.
Liam grunts. “I suppose not.” He walks to the door, but pauses there. “By the way. Why don’t either of you wear a ring?”
I blink rapidly. Fuck, a ring. I forgot about rings. What a stupid rookie error. But before I can speak up, Fiona takes over.
“Gareth doesn’t like wearing jewelry, and my ring is being resized. Part of a whirlwind wedding means certain things didn’t work out perfectly.” She laughs gently and puts a hand on my shoulder. She squeezes tight.
Fiona is not happy.
“I’m still looking for the right band,” I say with a shrug.
“I’ll see the two of you in Gloucester.” He turns and leaves without looking back.
Fiona walks to the door, makes sure he’s gone, and closes it. She groans, head leaned back. “Oh, what the fuck,” she says, glaring at me. “Why did you just agree to that?”