Read Online Blissed (Misfit Brides #1) by Jamie Farrell - Free Book Online Page B

your in-laws live that you might want to keep that in mind.” It was a desperate play, admitting that she knew exactly who he was.
    His body went rigid and his eyes flat.
    Bullseye .
    “My in-laws are fair-minded people,” he said, the dangerous edge to his words making her shiver in both good and bad ways. “Is there anything else I should worry that they’d hear?”
    Oh, no.
    Not that.
    Not tonight.
    Nat’s heart jumped into her throat and threatened to choke her. “No.”
    “You sure?” CJ said. “Because you sound just like this woman I met in a confessional today. She had a lot to say about a Queen General’s poster boy, and turns out—unless there are two—I’m him.”
    Words wouldn’t come. Because here, late, alone with him—and the undeniable knowledge that he was the type of guy who could kiss a woman and not remember it, and that she was the type of girl whose body was having a serious reaction to his maleness and broadness and general male Neanderthal-ness despite his being CJ Blue—she was too far out of her own skin to formulate coherent thoughts, much less put them into words.
    “So that was you today.” He stood, peeled off his tux jacket. “Looks like you and I have some unfinished business.”
    Her eyes tripped on the fit of his white dress shirt, and she had to force herself to look away and point to the door. No way, no how. The QG would kill her. And then bring her back to life, kill her again, follow her to hell, and do it a third time.
    And then there was CJ himself.
    Bad enough he didn’t remember. The last time she’d seen him, the last time he’d touched her, her entire world, her entire life , had broken. It had taken him less than three seconds to strip her of everything she’d ever wanted.
    She hardly had anything left, but what if he did it to her again?
    “You need to leave,” she said.
    He tossed his tux jacket over the back of the recliner, then assumed stubborn-male position: arms crossed, feet wide, expression growly. “Can’t say to my face what you’ll say behind my back?”
    Natalie wanted to flinch, but she refused. “Feeling guilty?” she shot back instead.
    Wrong move.
    He took a step toward her. A giant, manly, CJ-size step.
    She gulped. But she maintained eye contact.
    “About what?” he said.
    Hell with it. He wanted to talk? They’d damn well talk. “About destroying my marriage.” But she had to admit that saying it out loud, to his face, didn’t feel nearly as good as she’d hoped it would.
    Damn it.
    CJ took another step. His eyes went dark and ominous, his cheek ticking over his solid jaw. “I don’t feel guilty over something I didn’t do.”
    Natalie matched one of his forward steps with one of her own. She didn’t have his stature, but she refused to be intimidated in her own home. “Not having the decency to remember doesn’t help.”
    “Or maybe you’re a freaking nutjob looking to blame anybody but yourself for your problems.”
    Her face went white-hot, and before she realized she’d moved, he caught her hands mid-air, abruptly stopping her from shoving him.
    “A feisty nutjob,” he murmured, “but definitely a nutjob. Too bad. Waste of a pretty face.”
    The jackass was playing with her. And while there was a flash of amusement in the quirk of his lips, there was flat calculation in his narrowed eyes.
    “Were you this much of an ass to your wife?” Natalie said.
    His grip went lax, releasing her hands, and everything about him went still as death.
    His eyes, his breath, probably his very pulse. She felt it as surely as if it were her own.
    She’d hit a nerve. A major nerve.
    She couldn’t stop herself today, could she?
    And what right did she have to attack his marriage? What good would it do?
    She blinked at the floor, gathering her courage. I’m sorry wasn’t a sentiment she’d ever been good with, but she’d crossed a line.
    Several, in fact, by Bliss standards. Her mother would have been horrified.
    “Oh,