Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Yeah, I said it.
While, like Merida, I might not want to play arm candy to some man intent on being “my king,” I wouldn’t mind banging a headboard with a burly warrior in a kilt.
I imagined the stranger in a kilt and what I would do to him if we were alone.
Oh my.
That imagery was a keeper.
By the look of things, I wasn’t the only person in the room affected by the gorgeous stranger. Three women currently surrounded him and he appeared rudely bored by them, while others eyed him from across the room.
“Are you hot, Merida?” Charmaine asked innocently. “Your cheeks are all red.”
Wow, I was having sexual fantasies about a stranger at a children’s birthday party dressed as a Disney character. There was nothing right about that sentence.
Forcing myself to ignore this shockingly strong physical reaction to a man I didn’t know, I focused on the kids.
A little while later, when Philippa Whitman, the mom who’d hired me, appeared to lead the kids away for snacks, she told me I could take a break. I beamed gratefully and ignored the amused stares of the attending adults before I slipped out onto the balcony. It wasn’t every day I got to visit swanky New York apartments with balconies overlooking Central Park. While I held little stock in material things, I could appreciate a superb view.
“This balcony is occupied,” a gruff and pissed-off masculine voice sounded from my left.
Glancing that way, I was delighted to discover Mr. Sexual Fantasy leaning on the railing of the narrow balcony. He glowered at me so ferociously, I wondered for a second if he’d mistaken me for someone else. Though it was pretty difficult to mistake me for anything other than a children’s entertainer.
Intrigued by my outrageous and unusual attraction to him, I drifted toward him despite his less-than-welcoming comment. My bow got caught on the balcony door as it shut and I snort-laughed as I freed myself. The stranger didn’t even so much as break a smile. I badly wanted to see him turn up the corners of his mouth, so I closed the distance between us. “I just needed some air. This is some view, huh?” I gestured with a grin over the city and the park.
Before his eyes narrowed on me, I noted they were a lovely denim-blue color. “So that’s what you sound like when you’re not butchering a Scottish accent.”
My smile wavered, not sure if he was being mean or just bantering. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and responded in my awesome brogue, “Ah’ll have ye ken that ah am the daughter of a Scottish king, dinnae ye ken.”
“That sentence made little sense in English or fake Scottish.” The stranger searched my face and then dragged his gaze down my body. He was studying me like I was a bug he’d never seen before. Inwardly, I bristled, but outwardly, my smile stayed in place. I’d adopted a “kill ’em with kindness” approach to mean people since I was a teenager. Some people couldn’t help but melt under my niceness, and others got even more pissed at me. I found both reactions satisfying. “So, this is a job?” He didn’t attempt to hide his disdain. “You actually do this for a living?”
Yes, you arrogant snob. I grinned. “Yeah. Isn’t it great?”
He stared at me like I was babbling nonsense. “You think dressing up as Disney characters to entertain children is great? As a career?”
I shrugged. “I’m a costume character actor, so I dress up like lots of characters in pop culture to make other people smile on their special days. And, yeah, I think making people happy is a worthy endeavor. Don’t you?”
He glowered harder at my bubbliness. “Are you acting right now? No one is this happy.”
“Then you must surround yourself with a lot of miserable people.”
He turned more fully toward me and the breeze caught his scent. Something citrusy with a hint of spicy earthiness. He smelled delicious. And very expensive. Who was he to Philippa Whitman? He wasn’t her husband. She’d already told me her husband couldn’t make their daughter’s birthday party because he was on a business trip. “How old are you?”
His question took me aback. “Why?”
“Because you look old enough to know better than to goad a man who is clearly in a foul mood and certainly old enough to have moved on to more appropriate career paths by now. Disney princessing is for college students and failing college graduates.”
Oh wow. I felt my attraction to him wilt rapidly. Refusing to let him see that his words bothered me, I tutted. “Oh, come on, surely you’re old enough to know that we’re responsible for our own dark moods and that expecting people, least of all a stranger, to rearrange their mood to accommodate yours is the height of arrogance and self-indulgence. It’s the expectation of a toddler.”