Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“Oh,” the professor looked down at her with a distancing smile. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised someone’s taken you off the market already. But I’d still like to buy you a drink. When he gets here, I’ll get one for him as well.”
Bronte’s laugh swept away most of his ire, though the entire situation was damn insulting. “I’m already here, man.” He patted him forcefully on the back, his grim expression belying his tone. “And I’d love a pint. We’ll meet you over by the bar as soon as we’re finished.”
She was still laughing when he swept her into his arms, tucking her hand tightly against his chest. “Think that’s funny, do you?”
“Hilarious,” she affirmed, looking up at him with an apologetic sigh. “But you don’t.”
“I’m for anything that makes you smile, Nightingale.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. “And anything that keeps me from thinking about the fact that you went out in public without me. In that dress. Aren’t you cold?”
The look she sent was a warning. “I wore a jacket, William. And there’s nothing wrong with this dress. I know because it isn’t one of Austen’s and she told me it was too conservative when I picked it out.”
He pulled back enough to take it in. Cobalt blue with long sleeves and a hem that floated around her knees and clung to her everything. The swooping neckline alone was making it hard to concentrate. How was a man supposed to dance with an erection that could hammer nails?
“Your sister was mistaken.”
Her smile then made him want to beat his chest. “I’m taking that as a compliment. I’m not even sure why I brought it. My plan was to drive up, have a quick conversation with you and drive back.”
He pushed the stabbing pain aside at her admission. “That’s what you told yourself. But you brought a suitcase full of clothes. And you brought this dress because you wanted to wear it for me.”
“You’re so cocky,” she grumbled. “I don’t remember being that cocky when I turned twenty-five.”
William stopped her mid spin and gripped her wrist, fast walking her to the small storage closet off the bar. She protested, but he wasn’t listening. They needed to get at least one thing straight between them, here and now.
He led her inside then pressed her against the closed door, hands dropping to her ass and squeezing with enough force to make her yelp. “I’m a grown man, Mrs. Finn, and I have been for a while. I’ve lived hard, practically raised two kids who are still breathing and I know how to take care of what’s mine. We have enough on our damn plate, and I don’t have the patience to let your vanity or other people’s views get in the way of what’s between us.”
“Vanity?” She glared before looking away from him with a muttered, “That’s a little harsh.”
He gripped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “It’s the reality you’re so fond of. In case you haven’t checked your messages, you’re the only one I want to talk to morning and night. You’re the only one I see. It’s been that way since you handed me my ass in the emergency room and I had to get away and regroup before I made a fool of myself.”
“Really?”
William looked heavenward, as if asking for help. “You could drive a man to drink. Yes, really. And if our roles were reversed this wouldn’t be an issue.”
He nodded, quickly warming up to that argument. “That’s right, I said it. If I were a hot, young thing, fresh off the boat and you were an older man? No one would bat an eye and you’d be telling everyone in shouting distance, preening like a bloody peacock instead of keeping me your sordid secret. I’m right, aren’t I? And you know what that means? It means your issue with my age is sexist. What do you think about that?”
“Damn.” She leaned against the door and blew out a loud breath, her eyes wide. “And there I was thinking you and my previous dance partner had the market cornered on sexism. You going all caveman and he…”
“What? What did he do?” He really wanted to hear what she had to say about Professor Lickarse.
“Well, I hate that phrase, off the market. First of all, I’m not for sale and I have never been for sale. Every time someone asks if I’m on or off the market, I want to give them a lecture on human trafficking and the slave trade.”
William hid his face in her neck before she could see his smile.
“It’s true,” she insisted, but he heard the humor in her voice. “And while I don’t know if I’m being sexist, ageist or any other damn ist you can accuse me of in this closet you’ve trapped me in, I’ll try to stop bringing it up because you make a good point. Satisfied?”