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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You’ve got to be kidding me. “No. No way.” I wouldn’t sell myself for any price. Probably. I could definitely use the cash. But no. Definitely not. I had never purposely set out to seduce a man in my life, and I wouldn’t start with a moody, broody husband-captor. It didn’t matter that I’d had a positive effect on him. Me. Not Isobel. Did it?

No! I had zero desire to remain in this luxurious prison any longer than necessary. My first priority remained the same: get home to rescue my mother from Isobel’s meddling, save my job and pretend there was no such thing as sexy billionaire berserkers.

Chapter

Thirteen

He Said, She Said: To Negotiate with a Warrior, You Must Be a Warrior

From A Beginner’s Guide to Berserker Bliss

Author Unknown

Head up, shoulders back, book clutched close, I approached Callen’s bedroom door. My tough as nails façade softened the moment I spied Thora sitting in the hall. Smiling, I bent down to pet her.

Turning her head, she pretended she didn’t see me. Angry that I hadn’t come to find her the second I got home? My smile only widened. “Hello, Lady Thorn. You are too cute. But you know that, don’t you?”

I scratched behind her ears and kissed her adorable face. “Pencil me in for a cuddle tonight. Right now, Momma’s gonna make headway with the man of the house or die trying. Do you want to serve as my backup or get out while the getting is good?”

Without hesitation, the pooch trotted off. Not once did she look back.

I snorted as I straightened, realized I was seconds away from facing a one man firing squad, and fought to re-don my tough face. Okay. All right. Let’s do this. While I wouldn’t be seducing Callen, I would re-open the negotiation concerning our living arrangements.

I lifted my hand to knock but stopped myself in time. He was the one who’d insisted we share this bedroom. Why should I announce myself to enter my space?

I clasped the doorknob and, with my spine straight, entered the spacious chamber. Mistake! He wore a white towel, and only a white towel. The soft material clung low to a trim waist, the hem stopping just above his knees. My eyes drank in a sea of scarred skin here, there, everywhere. Obtained before his immortality set in? And what about those muscles! Biceps, pecs, and abs, oh my. The happy trail that disappeared beneath the cloth stole my breath.

Those thick black marks sleeved both of his arms, with several rows tattooed across his chest. The history book hadn’t explained what those lines meant. His number of decades alive?

He’d just taken a shower. Damp hair hung in disarray around his face. He still hadn’t shaved, the five o’clock shadow now working overtime. He was in the process of lifting a pair of boxer briefs from a dresser drawer, his blank expression betraying nothing.

“Should I remove the towel so you can inspect the rest of me?” he asked with an even tone.

I mean, if he was offering? No. Bad! Mortification burned my skin from head to toe as I jerked my focus away from him. Hmm. There was something different about the room. Oh! He’d removed his brother’s mounted head. Plus, he’d set up a feeding station for Thora in the far corner.

Surprise sent my gaze zooming back to him. Though only seconds had passed, he now evinced an emotion. A good one, too. A hint of amusement glittered in his heavily lashed baby blues.

He arched a brow and gripped the waist of the towel, reminding me of his question. “Well?”

“No, thank you. I’ve seen enough,” I told him primly, setting the book on a side table. “I’m here to continue our negotiations.”

He blinked at me. “Is that so?” After returning the underwear to the drawer, he crossed his arms over his chest. “So much time has passed, you’ll need to refresh my memory.”

Gonna play hardball, was he? “You put an offer on the table—for twenty-five thousand pounds, Thora and I move into your bedroom. Now I’m ready to give my counter.”

“Earlier, your price was twenty thousand.”

“Yes, but as you pointed out, so much time has passed, and there’s inflation, you see. So. For twenty-five thousand pounds, Thora and I get the bed, and you get the floor. No exceptions. There will be no move making at any time.” He might be one of the fiercest, deadliest men on the planet, and his servants might plead with me to seduce him and improve his mood, but I would not bend! “We are enemy-roommates, nothing more.”

He tilted his head and cranked up his smolder. “My body will be a shield for yours, if ever a foe storms the home. Knowing this, do you still wish to proceed with this separate beds negotiation? Because lass? I’m verra good at workin’ a bargain to my favor. You will lose far more than you win.”


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