It had been a mistake. An irreparable mistake, seeing as he couldn’t get the delightfully shaped lass off his mind. Cian growled, tossing the kerchief Rosalind had handed him for his bloodied nose into the trashcan. Aye. He’d deserved that one. And heavens damn him, the lass punching him, had been the hottest thing he had seen. Her amber eyes had been pure fire and her chest rose and fell as she had stared at him, furious. It had taken all of his might to keep his eyes away from the swell of her breasts. The lass made him feel like a creep. Especially with the hard-on currently forming in his pants as he thought about her full lips. That red lipstick should be banned. That color on her was sinful. Going to Seattle had been a stupid mistake. He should never have listened to his grandfather and his pleas. The old man had told Cian to visit the emerald city, and he just might find love there. His clan, the Gregors, were big on family and litters of chi
"This is the first time you have graced us with your presence, Mr. MacGregor. The first time in six years since you took the world by a storm! You must tell us more about yourself!" Cold sweat broke on Ivette's forehead and her nails dug painfully into her palms as she tried to stifle a shiver. She had hoped the fever would have subsided by morning time but it only got worse. It had been an effort to move from the bed...or even apply her make up. Her muscles were numb and aching and her temperature spiked on an abnormal level. She had been eager to skip the today's event but it was important that she and Aaron sat together on that stage as a couple, and answered the questions as one. She had been surprised when she showed up and her mother and Kerry had fawned over her with concern. She'd taken one look at her father's disdainful stare and known that Aaron hadn't told them about her and Cian. She'd been about leaving when she saw him waiting outside her hote
The aroma of something delicious teased Ivette's nostrils and seduced her from blissful sleep. The sound of movement around her had her opening her eyes. She squinted at the dimly lit room, eyes resting upon the large glass sliding doors that took up the entire wall on her right and overlooked a vast private pool. The soft light of the evening bathed the room with a golden glow and...her eyes darted to the corner of the room where someone stood, watching her. She moved slightly, yawning tiredly. "Ron?" She was still feverish, and her head pounded, but she was warm and the bed underneath her was to die for. It felt like she was lying on fluffy clouds. The figure by the door moved, triggering the motion sensors and Ivette winced at the sudden brightness that flooded the room. "Good to see you're alive, lass." Ivette shot up from the bed and fell back on her back as pain shot through her head and her spine. "Coulda told you that was a terrible idea
Ivette woke up feeling lighter than she had in a long time. Safer. Freer. Last night was hazy but she knew he'd stuck with her, through the fever. She had fallen asleep to his scent, and to his cool hands caressing her cheek, lulling the fever away. Her cheeks heated as she creeped out of the room. She wanted to thank him. Perhaps, she'd been a little too hard on him. Accusing him, punching him that way and insulting him. He could've left, but he didn't. He'd stayed. And it mattered to her more than anything anyone had ever done for her. For she had always looked out for herself. In the direst of situations when she couldn't care for herself, she'd gone through those moments alone. Not because she loved being a loner. But because she couldn't afford to let anyone else see her at her lowest. Her weakest. Somehow, it stayed that way. Because she couldn't show it, no one bothered asking anymore. They assumed she could look after herself, and even if that
Ivette was at the bar again. It was the only place she found solace these days. The entire seemed farther away with each glass she took, and it was a small relief for her. A small escape from everything that bore down on her. She was getting married in three days. She laughed. It was a cold and brittle sound. How did she feel about all of it? Sick to the stomach. It brought a lot of things into perspective. Too many things she didn't even want to think about. So she drank, drowning herself, and the sound of the cheers coming from the audience as Aaron was being interviewed. Aaron Maxwell, the soon to be heir and CEO of Maxwell Industries and King Corp, they called him. Ivette laughed again, and the Italian bartender who had become a quick friend wiggled his full and dark eyebrows at her. "Bad day, Senorita?" Ivette blew out a breath and took the bottle of Martini from his right hand and flipped the cork. "You have no idea." "Perhaps, I do." "Are y
"Just...let me touch you, Ivy. I've missed you," Aaron murmured, planting kisses on her forehead, her temples, her cheeks, her nose, and his lips crashed into hers with aggressive demand and his tongue darted on when her lips parted to protest. "Ron--" His hands circled her waist, pulling her closer, and he grounded against her, letting her feel his hardness. "It's been so long. This dress tormented me all day," he murmured against her lips, hands moving from her narrow waist to cup her ass. He squeezed tightly and Ivette staggered back, falling unto the couch. "Couldn't wait to rip it off you." She felt ill. Goosebumps eroded her skin with each touch of his lips. Suffocation. Fatigue. Mild irritation. Disinterest. No arousal. She genuinely wasn't in the mood right now, but Aaron wasn't listening. "Aaron...another time--" "Now, Ivy," His words slurred as his hands began pushing off her jacket. "Aaron, stop," Ivette pleaded when he sucked on
"Too heavy?" Ivette looked up from the oversized trophy in her grasp and Cian found himself staring into hollow empty eyes. Her hazel eyes lacked brightness and in its stead, there was only fatigue and resignation. She blinked once, eyes flipping over him swiftly and she raised a lean shoulder before dropping it. "I'm sure yours is heavier." Indeed, his trophy had been a large monstrous thing and he had had no small pleasure handing it over to Rosalind with the nastiest grin on his face. However, that hadn't mattered. He had been watching the lass all afternoon. Not that she had noticed. That was the problem. She hadn't noticed his gaze on her as she'd collected the trophy from the lady presenter. He couldn't tell what was wrong with her and it disturbed him more than he wanted it to. "Heading back so quickly?" He asked, tipping his head toward the door from which music flitted out from. She shrugged. "Dancing is exhausting." He was
How to make this moment last forever, Cian brooded. It was the first time he was... waltzing because he wanted to. He had been to numerous blind date, courtesy of his grandfather, and he had done one too many waltzes with lasses whose names he couldn't recall. But this...this was different. He had known she would be different the moment she had walked around him in that club and grabbed his butt shamelessly. It had destabilized him, and he had never been same since that day. In his arms, she was wee, yet his hands rested perfectly against the curve of her hips as though, they belonged there. He gazed down at her and he found her sharp gaze already on him. He couldn't read the look in her eyes and he hated that. "Tell me what you're thinking," He whispered, tightening his hands on her waist and he swung them left, matching the rhythm of the song. "You go first," she murmured breathing heavily. His eyes searched hers as he said, "You have beautiful