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)
She added a reproachful look. “You did already mention how tired I look. Twice.”
“You’re a beauty and you know it.” He leaned into her, his previously broken nose skimming her cheekbone, her jaw. “Will we get another turn in the ring, Bronte? Will you let me taste you again? Feel you tighten up around me?”
God, she hoped so. “Will you tell me what you think I wouldn’t be comfortable knowing?”
He tensed, releasing a pent up breath. “I think I’d do just about anything you asked me to. And I’ve never said that to another living soul.” He leaned back to look into her eyes. “What about you? You still haven’t mentioned what you came here to tell me. Is it that bad, then?”
“Can we put a stopper in it for a few hours?” she hedged, repeating his request. “You can be the man who rocked my world and I can be your…”
“Wife,” he said with a rough satisfaction that caused a ripple of awareness to shiver through her body.
“I was going to say date.” She put one finger over his lips before he could contradict her. “Later.”
He put his shirt back on and tugged her close for a kiss. By the time she was ready to beg him to stay he let her go, smiling wickedly and shutting the door behind him.
Cocky, punk ass leprechaun.
She dropped the blanket and walked over to her purse, trying to catch her breath as she dug around for her phone. As soon as Tasha answered, she dropped onto the bed and touched her lips with trembling fingers. “We need a new plan. Let’s talk loopholes.”
Chapter Four
William wanted to kick himself for leaving Bronte alone. Didn’t he have enough experience with her to know what a mistake that was? Every time she’d gotten close to letting her guard down in the past, in person or on the phone, something would happen and she’d shut him down again, leaving him back at the start again.
Something had changed between them. She’d responded to him. Opened up and shared a part of herself no one else had ever seen. That had to mean he was finally getting through to her. That his plan to wear down her defenses was actually working.
Or it would make her more closed off than ever and he should have snagged her wallet, or held her car keys as collateral in case she tried to run.
He would have if he hadn’t been reeling from her revelations. His gut had told him the first time they’d met that she was the kind of woman who pushed aside her own pain, her own desires for others, but he’d had no idea the extent of it.
The thought of anyone hurting her sent him into a rage. He wasn’t the best of men, but he had never considered taking a woman against her will. Men like that, the ones that believed they were owed something and took what they hadn’t earned? He had no qualms about showing them the error of their ways, or letting one of his friends bilk them for everything they had.
As if that makes you a hero.
It didn’t. He had no illusions about what he’d been. A bookmaker’s muscle. An opportunist who wagered on his fists with gullible tourists and ambitious idiots. Where Bronte had taken her pain and used it to heal other people, he’d used his as an excuse.
When he was younger, fighters had been his heroes. He’d soak up stories of Dempsey and other Irish boxing greats like a sponge. He was mad for Muhammad Ali and watched all the Rocky movies enough to have them memorized. His happiest memories were when his father took him to sparring matches, even getting him a pair of gloves for his twelfth birthday. His dreams of glory died with his parents, but not his instincts for survival.
Since he’d been spending time with this branch of Finns, however, he’d been remembering those old dreams and thinking about forging a new path for himself.
After marrying Bronte and helping his cousin, James, out of a sticky situation, he’d known his days of dive bars and dangerous company were behind him for good. He’d started looking at property near Finn’s to open a sparring club of his own. An honest club. No gambling allowed.
If he wanted to deserve a woman like Bronte, he had to be thorough and aboveboard every step of the way. He had to do it right.
He’d do whatever he had to do to keep her, but this visit had him flying blind.
William took his phone out and made a call. “Tanaka? Did you or that giant you call a fiancé happen to spill any important secrets you swore to me you’d keep recently?”
“Hello, William. I’m fine,” Ken said wryly. “And I think you know we haven’t. It’s been months. If the rest of your family knew your paperwork went through two weeks after you left, they’d have all descended by now, wondering why you haven’t come home. The way we do on a regular basis,” he added after a pause.