step towards the bar, the polite coolness from earlier replaced with a heat that was all too familiar.
“Thanks for the rescue.” I swear his low, rumbling voice vibrated all the way into my panties.
Squirming inwardly, I tried for nonchalance. “No problem. Jo’s a sweetheart and she doesn’t mean any harm… but she’s a blatant gold digger.”
Braden just nodded, seeming uninterested in anything Jo-related.
Silence quickly fell between us, our eyes catching, staying, locking. I didn’t even realize my mouth had fallen open until his eyes dipped to stare at it.
What the hell was this?
I snapped back from him, feeling my skin flush as I glanced around to see if anyone else had caught the moment between us. No one was watching.
Why wasn’t he leaving?
Looking back at him, I tried not to seem unnerved, when in actuality I was so out of my depth. I attempted unsuccessfully to ignore his slow, heated perusal of my body. He had to stop doing that!
When his eyes eventually crawled their way back up to mine, I made a face at him. I couldn’t believe him. He’d pretty much ignored Jo, but for me he’d turn on ‘the sex’. Did he get some sick satisfaction out of tormenting me?
Stepping back from the bar with a quick grin, Braden shook his head at me.
“What?” I scowled.
He smirked at me. I hated when guys smirked at me. Even sexy smirks like his. “I don’t know what I like better…” he mused, stroking his chin in teasing contemplation. “…the naked you, or you in that tank top. D’s right?”
What? I frowned, totally confused.
And then it hit me.
Jerk!
The asshole had just—correctly—guessed my bra cup size. He was never going to let me live down yesterday. I could see that now.
I threw my dishrag at him and he laughed, dodging it. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Then he was gone before I could summon up an epic retort that would knock him on his ass.
I swear to God, the next time we met, I’d get the last word in.
~4~
Lena, the heroine of my fantasy series, and a bad-ass assassin in the kingdom of Morvern, was supposed to be planning her attack on the Queen’s Lieutenant, Arvane—a mage who was secretly having an affair with the Queen’s nephew, and using his influence and magic to manipulate monarchical and political control. Instead, Lena had begun fantasizing about stripping, Ten, leader of the Queen’s guard, naked. Ten, who had been a blonde in the first five chapters, was now dark-haired with pale blue eyes. He was also not supposed to be the romantic hero. There wasn’t supposed to be a romantic hero at all. This was all about Lena!
Frustrated, I pushed away from my laptop.
Freaking Braden! He was even polluting my manuscript with his sexual toxicity.
That’s it. I was giving up for today. Knowing Ellie was bringing Chinese takeout home for dinner after her research at the university, I decided to slot in some time at the gym just around the corner on Queen Street as a pre-emptive attack on the calories. I generally didn’t care about my food intake, but I had been into sports at school and liked to keep in shape. Good thing too, because I really liked chips, or crisps, as they were called here. Any chips, all chips, fattening, delicious, and crispy chips. My close relationship with chips was possibly the most real in my life.
I drove out my frustration over my book into the treadmill, crosstrainer, bike and weights until I was a sweating, jellified mess. The workout relaxed me–enough that my brain started to work again. A character started forming in my head and she wouldn’t leave me alone. Mostly because she was a lot like me. She was alone in life, independent, driven. She’d grown up in foster care in Scotland and moved to the US on a work visa and ended up falling in love…
The character was my mom. My mom’s story had been great until it ended tragically. Everyone loves a good tragedy. Everyone would love my mom. She’d been spunky and outspoken, but really kind and compassionate. My dad had adored her from the minute he met her but it had taken him six months to break down her defenses. Their romance had been epic. I’d never thought about writing a romance before, but I couldn’t get the idea of immortalizing my parents on paper out of my head. Flashes of memories I’d buried under a steel and cold will started passing across