Page 6 of Their Valentine Bride

Chapter Three

Ansley patted down her cheeks, shook out her hair, then marched right back onto the battlefield. No more slip-ups for her.

“Gentleman,” she said immediately on reentering the store, her hand extended. She shook the first man’s hand and bit down the flaming undercurrent of heat soaring through her body at his touch. And then that was multiplied by three as she repeated the process of shaking the remaining two men’s hands.

It didn’t do her cause one bit of good that one of them seemed annoyed with her. As if she were a mosquito keeping him awake at night. One of them seemed far too amused by her, and the other kept looking at her dead in the eyes, making her squirm self-consciously. And that in turn required a herculean effort on her part not to dissolve into a puddle at their feet, but the fact that she was still standing boosted her confidence monumentally.

“My name is Ansley King.” And she couldn’t have been prouder of herself when the sounds escaping her mouth sounded like actual words. “I’m the new owner of Cupid’s Toys.” She was actually making sense. “And I’m here to tell you, I have no intention of giving up my shop.” There, she managed to deliver her stance with clear understanding. “And I certainly won’t be bribed or threatened into… into… into doing so… either.”

Wait, what was going on with her now? Had it suddenly become hot inside the shop? Like blazing hot? Did she imagine it, or was there steam rising from her skin?

Be calm. Be calm. Be calm. Calm the hell down.

Nothing was wrong. She was fine. Everything was fine. Except that she was on fire. She wasn’t exaggerating. Yes, she was. She wasn’t on fire, but she was burning up from the inside.

“Did it get really hot in here?” Without thinking, she removed her jacket, but the burden of carrying it in her hand added to her discomfort of melting. “I’m sorry, I’m just going to get rid of this.” She threw it at her rack of ball gags, missed, and it landed on the floor.

“That’s fine. I’ll pick it up later,” she babbled, fanning herself. “This weather, right?” She laughed, using both her hands to fan herself off, and also resorted to now sticking her fingers in her top and pulling it away from her body.

Oh God. The fabric had started to stick to her boobs, and the pattern of the rose-embossed bra she wore was now visible through the silk of her top. But that was the least of her problems. She graduated from trying to create a breeze with her top by pulling it away from her skin, to basically removing the straps off her shoulders. She then untucked it from the waistband on her skirt and sighed in relief at the little cool air that drifted over her exposed skin.

“Are you all right, Miss King?” Penetrating Stare Guy asked.

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” She deserted her efforts to remove her clothes, closed the distance between them, and extended her hand again. Oh, so she was back to touching them now?

“I’m—” he started and was just about to take her hand when suddenly her hand decided at that moment to bundle up her skirt, away from her thighs so the little breeze she caught on her hair could also cool down her thighs.

Way Too Amused Guy chuckled and Unimpressed Guy glared at her.

“Clearly you are not perfectly fine, Miss King,” he growled.

“I am…strawberries,” she said. Oh crap. Colossal crap. She wasn’t full-on allergic to strawberries, but she did break out into heat waves whenever she had them, making her skin burn somewhat. She licked her lips to get a taste of the freshly pressed juice she had guzzled down, not moments ago, as a substitute for a stiff drink, and lo and behold, apart from the yummy taste of pineapple, she detected trace amounts of strawberries. She licked her lips again to make sure and became acutely aware that three sets of gazes now followed the motion of the tip of her tongue as she swiped it across her lip.

Even while unattractively fervid, her tummy did an odd flip, her nipples tightened, and she became embarrassingly aware that her panties were drenched… for other reasons. What new symptoms were those, she groaned inside her head.

“I’m sorry. Will you excuse me again for just a moment?”

She was fine. Everything was still damn fine. She just needed to douse herself in cold water, and then things would be back on track.

She didn’t wait for them to reply to her, but it was hard not to notice their disgruntlement. Instead, with only a vague idea that she might find a restroom, she headed toward the back of the shop, again keenly aware that their gazes followed her as she walked away. The heat their attention evoked on her body was different from the one the strawberries created.

This had better be her last hiccup if she had any hope of being taken seriously.

Oh, why couldn’t they have been the old grouchy men she had been expecting to deal with?

But no worries. It didn’t matter; it shouldn’t actually. It was just a case ofsame problem, different bodies. And, oh boy, were their bodies something else. But no. Not going there.

Young or old, sexy or not, they were not going to sprout a monstrosity in this spot, essentially burying the memories that made Marjorie still smile to this day.

After trying two other doors at the back of the shop, one being a stockroom filled dangerously to capacity with boxes and racks of clothes, and the other a tiny office, so cluttered she could barely get the door to open properly, she finally came across a bathroom and couldn’t suppress her glee at the sight of the basin.

She immediately turned on the faucet and started to splash her face with the cold water. But it wasn't enough.

She needed to cool her whole body down.

Without a moment of hesitation, she started to remove her clothes. She glanced around the tiny, cordoned-off cubicle, which apart from a toilet and basin, also seemed to be housing containers of paint packed precariously one on top of the other against the wall.

Careful not to get her clothes messed up because she still had to put them back on and go out there and conduct the meeting of her life, she took a wad of toilet paper, laid it onto a container, and set her clothes down on it.

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