Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
She took another step.
She wobbled dangerously when she lifted her arms. “Oh, Jesus.”
“I’m not him, no. But if you’re needing help, Nightingale, I’m at your disposal.”
Bronte whirled at the sound of his voice, swearing viciously as her ankle twisted and she started to fall.
Strong arms were wrapped around her and carrying her to the old worktable before she had time to catch her breath.
“There now. Let me grab that box for you.”
She rubbed her ankle, glaring at the intruder. It was the leprechaun.
If a leprechaun was a tall, deliciously well-built Irishman with a rakishly bent nose, ice blue eyes and a wicked tongue.
You forgot young, she told her hormones with a mental scowl. William Finn was too young and too wild for her. A troublemaker with a fondness for pugilism, gambling and flirtation that would have any sensible woman running in the other direction.
And Bronte was a sensible woman.
“I was told you were leaving town last week.”
William set the box down carefully, shoving his hands in his pockets as he moved closer. “I had a favor to do for James first, but now, good boy that I am, I’m off to earn an honest living for the next few months at least.”
“Only a few months?”
“At least,” he assured her, his eyes twinkling. “But I didn’t want to leave without seeing you, and thanking you again for the favor.”
She crossed her arms protectively, hiding her reaction to his charms. “It’s not for you. I’m considering it a wedding present to my brother that no one has to know about. I’m also expecting you not to make me regret it by getting into trouble while you’re gone.”
“I’m a new man, Bronte Finn.” Was he closer? “I’ve heard marriage can do that to people. Change everything.”
Finn. Not Wayne. Finn.
“Don’t call me that,” she grumbled, looking down at the ridiculous ab muscles she could see through his snug, white shirt. “Where’s your jacket?”
“You mean the new one I had to buy since my favorite jacket was stolen out of a police station?” He winked. “It’s in the truck. I like that you’re worried about me, but I’m hot-blooded. I’ll be fine.”
Hot-blooded and fine. Yes, you are.
Stop.
“I’m not worried, just curious. You should get out of here before anyone sees you hanging around. Solomon and Hugo are inside with my parents right now. I’m sure they told you they didn’t want to see us together.”
They’d definitely mentioned it to her.
His lips firmed and he nodded abruptly. “Then I’ll make this quick.”
He was kissing her before she saw it coming.
More than kissing. Claiming. Tongues mating as his hands slid her quilted jacket open enough to slip inside.
Her legs wrapped around his waist when he cupped her ass, moaning into her mouth and grinding his erection against the empty ache between her thighs.
He tasted like hot chocolate and peppermint mixed with something forbidden. Something she shouldn’t want. Something she couldn’t want.
But damn, she wanted.
Bronte grabbed his wrist and tugged his hand down to her pajama bottoms, guiding him to where she needed him most.
He stiffened for a heartbeat, groaning into her mouth as he leaned forward, pressing her back onto the table as his fingers dragged her panties to the side and he was finally there. Touching her.
Oh God.
He lifted his head, his fingers slipping through her heat. “There’s time, Nightingale. We could go upstairs and I could kiss all of you goodbye. It wouldn’t be the first secret we’ve shared since the wedding.”
The sound of brakes slamming in her head shook her out of her lust-induced haze.
Shit.
“You had to talk, didn’t you?” she sighed, pushing him off her and hopping off the table.
She winced, landing on her sore ankle. “You better go now.”
She couldn’t afford to forget herself. Not with him. Thank God he was leaving the state, because for being such a pain in the ass, he was way too tempting.
William Finn backed away, studying her as if memorizing every feature. “Stay safe. You’ll be hearing from me soon, Nightingale. That’s a promise.”
“Don’t make promises you won’t keep.” They’d both already been guilty of that.
“If you need me, all you have to do is call.”
She wouldn’t call. She was fine on her own.
Which was a good thing, since her twenty-four-year old temporary husband wasn’t going to be back for a while.
Not until it was time to get their marriage annulled.