Read Online Compromising Kessen by Rachel van Dyken - Free Book Online Page B

were paparazzi?”
    Christian refused to comment. Instead he sent an ugly sneer her way before opening the door and puffing up his chest. “I’m sure you’re used to gentlemen falling all over themselves for you, Kessen, but please. Do you honestly think someone like me would need to trap you in order to get you?”
    Kessen saw red.
    Of course, she had read numerous stories where women swear they saw nothing but red when they got angry, and she was having a real-life experience of it in this moment. Nobody should be held accountable for doing things when they saw red … nobody.
    She threw a wooden spoon.
    He ducked, quite agile for a Brit.
    He grabbed a pot as she began throwing limes, oranges, and pears—anything she could find, until she found a large grilling fork.
    “Aha!” she yelled, pointing it out in front of her.
    “My apologies, Father. Can’t get married, because my fiancée is crazy!” he yelled, knocking the fork out of her hands and tackling her, sending both of them sailing into the flour.
    ****
    Christian hadn’t meant to lose all control, but he couldn’t be held responsible for any of his actions in the presence of Kessen. She absolutely brought out the worst in him, which suffice to say, was not a pretty sight.
    He felt as if they were in slow motion when they finally sailed into the flour. He had managed to get all sharp pointy objects away from Kessen except the fork, which was now flying across the room at an alarming speed.
    And then the flour hit. He couldn’t even see for a few seconds as the air filled with white dust particles settling onto what seemed like every square inch of his body and Kessen’s. She coughed beneath him, and then laughed.
    It was devastating.
    And at that moment, in the flour with the most irritating American girl he had ever met, he became completely ruined.
    His body was already responding to his head, as everything began pulsating with heat. She was aggravating, but she was interesting, and he wanted her.
    In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when he had wanted a woman this badly, and he had had a lot of women during his years at university.
    Then she smiled, all covered in flour and innocent. Their foreheads touched, and their eyes locked. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t, but he was having trouble with self-control that night.
    His lips descended towards hers. Obviously he had already made the decision, and he didn’t care about anything but tasting her again.
    Another throat cleared. There had to be another type of signal people could use.
    He looked up to see her grandmother regarding them with the most peculiar look on her face.
    “Food fight?” she asked, arms still crossed but eyes twinkling with mischief.
    Christian jerked away from Kessen and helped her up from the floor.
    “No,” Kessen answered. “Christian was throwing flour at me, and then he threw a fork, Grandma. A fork—as in a sharp object! I barely escaped with my life.” She bent down and kissed her on the cheek. Goodnight.”
    She turned and winked at Christian, then walked out of the kitchen.
    The little minx had totally thrown him under the bus. He looked guiltily from the flour to her grandmother and shrugged, because what else could he do? He could deny it, but it would be her word against his.
    Lady Newberry walked strategically through the flour and put both tiny hands on his chest. “You, sir, are going to have your hands full with that one.”
    “Understatement of the century,” he murmured and kissed the sweet lady on the cheek. “Good evening, Lady Newberry. May I call on Kessen tomorrow?”
    “I’ll make certain she’s ready,” she answered, waving him off.
    Kessen was unwise to provoke him, or poke the beast, as they say. She couldn’t fool him, and the sooner she realized how evenly matched they actually were, the better off both of them would be in this engagement.
    At this point he was powerless to stop it. Saying it was a mistake or an accident would