The Wrong Bride (Kings of Fury #1) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Funny, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Fury Series by Gena Showalter
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
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He traced his thumb across the ridges of my upper spine, infinitely gentle. “I’ll prove I can be good to you. That we can be good together.”

I should say no to whatever he had planned. Getting involved with him was a bad idea. The absolute worst. He belonged to the graceful redheaded socialite, his precious firebrand, not the sometimes-awkward schoolteacher. Would he even find the real me attractive? A sobering, sad question.

It was just, he’d bought me books, and it might’ve compromised my decision making. It had certainly colored my perception of him, and clearly weakened my resolve to resist his rugged appeal while we remained married.

As if sensing victory, he stepped back and offered me his hand. The one with the scar. “Let’s enjoy the day together.” A soft entreaty. “No expectations. No pressure.”

Longing coiled around me, squeezing. He’d just described Heaven on Earth. No expectations, no pressure? Forget backing out. I should go with him. Both of us needed a little joy. And as the saying went, life wasn’t about waiting for the storms to pass, but learning to dance in the rain. I could resist him, no matter how much charm he dished.

“You’ll find I am a different man now.”

“What changed?” I asked.

He paused. “Everything.”

I didn’t understand, only knew my stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering. “Yes,” I rasped, slipping my fingers into his. “I will enjoy the day with you.”

Satisfaction lit his eyes. “Good. I know just where to start.”

Chapter

Nineteen

Berserker Booty: Some Presents Pack a Punch

From A Beginner’s Guide to Berserker Bliss

Author Unknown

Ifought for calm as I descended the staircase with Callen, our hands still tucked together. The most delicious heat radiated from his muscular body. Every nuance of movement brushed his scar against my sensitive palm, and every breath I took infused my cells with his rich scent. Hot shivers rained over me, decadent desires dawned, and new aches bloomed.

When we reached the bottom of the steps, I expected him to whisk me to the car. Rather, he steered me toward the ballroom where I’d first met the staff.

My brow furrowed. “What are we doing?”

“Detouring to glimpse your gifts from Malachi.”

Oh, yeah! Look at me, crossing an item off my To-Do list without even trying.

With his free hand, Callen opened the door to the ballroom. We swept inside. No servants milled about. No guards, either. We stood alone in the mirrored room with the vaulted ceiling, and I gasped. Piles and piles of stuff stacked high in every direction. Crates filled with spices lined the walls, cinnamon and saffron scenting the air. Barrels overflowed with rich silks and velvets in varying shades of blue. Bottles of oil and perfume abounded.

I floundered, overwhelmed. I, the woman who thrilled at receiving glue sticks and construction paper on Back To School Night, now stared at open chests displaying an assortment of precious gems and a boatload of gold coins. More than enough to finance my trip home.

“Malachi sends his utmost respects.” Amusement bubbled in Callen’s voice. “Gifts from the other kings will arrive within the week.”

“There’s more coming?” I squeaked.

“Much more. Also, the twenty-five thousand pounds you requested.”

My head spun. Another goal met. “Do you think me greedy?” I bit my bottom lip and toed a gold coin.

“I think…” Callen reached for a diamond and pearl tiara that probably cost more than my projected lifetime income. He gently lowered the beauty on my head, tucking strands of red hair behind my ears. “You were made for queenly adornments.”

I bloomed under his attention, his stare. His praise. Even this Oklahoma girl had played princess as a child. Peering at him through the shield of my lashes, I quipped, “But only your queen, yes?”

“Only my queen,” he agreed with a husky tone.

Heart a jackhammer, I reached for an exquisite gold pin of a wolf in profile. Delicate filigree adorned the edges, and a single sapphire sparkled in the animal’s eye. With flourish, I attached the pin to Callen’s shirt directly above his heart. “I formally decree this royal crest belongs to you.”

His rough chuckle teased my ears. “What did I do to earn a portion of your catch?”

“To start, you saved my life from the shifters.”

“As your king, husband, and protector, saving your life is my duty.”

“Yes, but not everyone does their duty with such enthusiasm and skill. Take the compliment, darling.”

He snorted at my use of the endearment, and our gazes met. Held.

Breathless, I fought the urge to flatten my palms against his chest. “Thank you, Callen. For everything.”

In his usually icy blues, hot desire flared. His focus cut to my mouth. “As long as we’re acting as we’re supposed tae…”

I licked suddenly dry lips. Did he intend to kiss me? “Yes?”

“We’re in a ballroom. We should dance.”

Only a smidge disappointed, I lifted my ear and tilted my head. “There’s no music,” I pointed out. “But I can fix that.” I clapped twice. Exaggerated a frown. Clapped twice. Again, no soft melody filled the airways.


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