Page 24 of Taming Achilles

That was a low blow, Delgado. But not completely unwarranted.

“Maybe when he’s back from his honeymoon.” I almost respected her constant observation. In one question, she had managed to communicate so much. Did her dunce of a partner know too?

Chapter 10

Pippa

I needed to get Geordie off my back for a minute. Not that he wasn’t protecting me - he was. It was good to have some backup, but I needed a moment. I needed air. And he was determined not to let me have that.

We were on the street heading to his car, with Hugo lugging a laptop in his hand. They were chatting to one another when I pivoted to go into a coffee shop, Geordie hard on my heels.

“Haven’t you had enough of Tanner’s coffee?” Geo snarled low in my ear, grabbing me by the elbow and pulling me to him. “You don’t even like coffee.”

“I didn’t sleep well last night.” I tried to pull my arm from his grip, but I couldn’t pull too hard, because my cover didn’t allow it. God! I wished that I could use my Krav Maga on this bastard without giving the game away. “Something kept waking me up last night. I need caffeine.”

He let me go and I walked to the counter, ordering a Builder’s Tea and a croissant. I didn’t ask if the boys wanted anything. They could fend for themselves.

“Hi!” the barista said with a bright smile, her eyes lowering slowly as she looked over my shoulder. “What can I do for you?”

The barista had obviously fallen under his spell. I couldn’t blame her. I shouldn’t blame her. It was simple biology, of course. A tall, good looking, muscular man of obvious means did something to a woman’s ovaries. But it didn’t stop me from envisioning the blood coming from her ears as I grabbed her by the hair and slammed her face into the counter over, and over, and over again until her skull smashed like a piñata.

Get a hold of yourself, Pip. You can’t murder in public. Contemplate this later when you’re alone.

“Two grande Americanos, love.” Geo’s brogue was always stronger when the women were around. He knew what it did to them. The bastard was flirting on purpose.

I turned to a gap in the wall, leading to a hallway labelled “Restroom”.

“Didn’t you already relieve yourself?” Geo asked, following me.

“Small bladder.” I shrugged. “Do you mind?”

“I do.” His eyes narrowed. “What are you on about?”

Why was something as innocuous as a tea and a restroom break getting his hackles up. Hadn’t he been with a woman since we were together? I looked at Geordie, his chestnut hair, and his brown eyes. He hadn’t been a monk over the past five years. Obviously not. How could he? Women lunged after him.

“Maybe I’m experiencing some PMT.” PMT was an abbreviation for Pre-Menstrual Tension, commonly known in the US as PMS. I smiled, knowing that men always twisted away at the mention of a woman’s bleeding.

But not Geordie. He leaned into me, raised a knowing brow and eyed me up and down.

“I know you’re not.”

“You Scottish savage,” I growled, turning away from him. He grabbed my elbow and turned me to him, his eyes narrowing.

“You English menace!” He pulled me to him, and brought his lips to my ear.

I felt his breath over my skin, my hair dancing in it. It sent shivers down my spine.

“Let’s pretend I wasn’t just balls-deep inside you last night, and I know what you feel like when you’re ovulating, when you’re bleeding … ” I punched him in the arm, feeling the blush heat my cheeks.

“God, you’re a crude bastard!” I said through gritted teeth.

He ignored my words and continued.

“I know because you’re drinking tea, and not hot chocolate,” he nodded to the barista, who was still staring at him with hearts in her vapid eyes. “And you’re eating a croissant, not a pain au chocolat.”

Of course he’d remember. How dare he remember? I hated him for knowing this about me. This information wasn’t his to retain.

“Things have changed in the last five years.” I turned from him, but not fast enough to watch the smile melt from his face, and it squeezed at my heart and stung my eyes.

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