Page 9 of The Revenge Bride

I’m seeing Rhett in a softer light. He’s willing to marry a woman he can’t stand so he can ease his grandmother’s mind.

His actions make me wonder if it’s possible he’s not the jerk I’ve always known him to be.

Rhett

Lucy’s been quiet since we left and now that we’ve arrived at my tattoo shop, she’s still not talking. It’s not normal. She always has something to say. It’s one of the reasons though I hate to admit it, I find irritating the hell out of her so entertaining.

“I need to get my station set up, so we have about fifteen minutes to hammer out our agreement.”

I unlock the shop and wave her in. The place isn’t that large but because it’s in the center of town, it’s a prime location.

Lucy pokes around looking at the various examples of tattoo samples displayed on the walls as well as some client photos. She stops in front of one. “Wow.”

Pride surges through me. In between paying clients, I volunteer to create art from scars for those who’ve experienced physical or emotional trauma. In the photo Lucy is staring at, I turned a young woman’s scar on her arm into a phoenix rising.

“Do you have a template for this design or what?” she asks.

“I design my own tattoos.”

“I didn’t know you could draw.”

“I do a lot of things exceptionally well.” I can’t help teasing her.

She rolls her eyes at the innuendo.

I go around the desk tucked near the door and open a drawer to look for paper. “I don’t have my laptop with me, so we’ll have to write the agreement the old-fashioned way.”

“That’s fine.” Lucy lifts her long, thick hair off the back of her neck and fans herself with her hand. A thin trickle of sweat runs toward her cleavage.

I’d like to run there too.I gape at her tantalizing skin and when she catches me looking, I pretend I wasn’t. But I really want to see those titties. I can’t believe they’re attached to Lucy.

I mean of course they’re attached to Lucy. But they’reLucy’s.

You’ve wanted her for years.You enjoy being around her.

No. I try to deny the thoughts. But they persist.

I abandon the search for paper, unscrew the top of a water bottle, and take a long drink. It goes down the wrong pipe and I strangle, doubling over to cough my ass off.

She comes up behind me and pats my back like she’s trying to thump out a lung.

I jerk upright at the contact and nearly slam my head into hers. When she takes an abrupt step back, I’m worried she’s going to fall and then sue me. That’s all. That’s the absoluteonlyreason I reach for her.

I’m getting good at lying to myself.

I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her hard against me. She’s curved in all the right places. Soft. Tantalizing.

My cock decides now is the perfect time to spring into action. Which he does. Full on. Hard as a fucking rock pressing against this curvy exasperation I’m holding onto for dear life.

Her lips part and her cheeks flush. Hell, itiswarm in here.

She draws in a ragged breath and the rise and fall of her titties move against my shirt. I feel the contact all the way to my bones. Like I stuck a screwdriver in an electrical socket.

I’m going to step back. I’m going to. Of course I’m not going to keep holding her.

“Are you thinking about kissing me?” she asks.

“Yes.” The truth bursts out of me before I can squash it and protect myself by telling her, no, I wasn’t. At all.

---