Read Online The Marrying Man by Barbara Bretton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Bretton
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"What'll we do next?"
He looked at Cat and their eyes locked. A look from her was worth a night in another woman's arms.
But it wasn't enough.
Chapter Six
Maybe if he hadn't kissed her she might have had a chance but the moment his lips met hers, Cat knew she was lost.
He'd kissed her the way women dreamed of being kissed, an erotic blend of tenderness and heat, of fierce need and sweet surrender that had toppled her defenses. She'd felt that kiss deep in her soul, in her heart, in every cell and fiber of her body. And she still felt it now, hours later, as she sat at her desk and stared at the mountain of unanswered correspondence waiting for her to organize it.
She'd wanted him more in that moment than she'd ever wanted anything or anybody in her entire life. Nothing else had mattered, not reason, not sanity, not the fact that they were quite probably the most mismatched couple in the United States and destined to remain so.
She sat there in her office, oblivious to the steady hum of her computer, and considered the situation. The man had ice water in his veins. The kiss had been his idea, but if it had meant one blasted thing to him, you'd never know it by the way he'd been acting ever since. A split second before the kids burst into the kitchen, they'd broken apart, and instantly it was as if the kiss had never happened. Cat had looked deeply into his green eyes, searching for a clue, a sign, anything that would indicate he'd felt a fraction of the wonder she'd found in his arms but there was nothing.
The rat.
Missy and Taj, two of her housecats, leaped up onto the desk, sending letters and magazines flying every which way. Scooter, who'd been sleeping at her feet on a bed of manuscript pages, grumbled loudly then lumbered off to find another place to nap. She hoped it was on top of the cowboy's pillow. Scooter drooled. It would serve him right.
The louse.
She ripped open a few sweepstakes offers from Publishers Clearing House and managed to waste a good half hour affixing gold seals and labels to various locations on the entry forms, all in the name of efficiency. It occurred to her that she could be putting her time to better use but she pushed that thought from her mind. Somebody had to win these things, a fact even the anal-retentive, clock-watching Riley McKendrick should understand.
The monster .
Even her own children were turning against her. The only one who was still normal was poor Jack, and that was only because he was in bed with the flu. By tomorrow Riley would have the kid asking for a horizontal file for his birthday. She'd seen the way the other little traitors hopped to it when the cowboy barked out an order. Wasn't this how fascism got its start?
The whole thing was disgusting. With McKendrick's help they'd color-coded clothes and toys and schoolbooks, and even followed him down to the basement to tackle the dozens of unmarked boxes that had followed them from their old house, and the house before that. The same boxes Cat had assumed would follow her one day to the old age home.
Well, not if Riley McKendrick had anything to do with it. Wasn't it enough the cowboy was turning her present inside out--did he have to stick his nose into her future as well? She'd grown attached to the idea of having those mystery boxes with her to warm her in her old age.
She pushed back her desk chair and rose to her feet. She couldn't just sit there while he turned her children into little robots with calculators tucked into their lunchboxes. Her nerves were on edge, she felt like she was coming down with something, and the fact that he was pretending that kiss never happened was suddenly more than she could take. If you were going to kiss someone the way he'd kissed her, the least you could do was own up to it.
With righteous fury in her breast, she marched through the hallway and downstairs to the basement where the situation was even worse than she'd thought. Kevin, Michael, Ben, and even Sarah were
He looked at Cat and their eyes locked. A look from her was worth a night in another woman's arms.
But it wasn't enough.
Chapter Six
Maybe if he hadn't kissed her she might have had a chance but the moment his lips met hers, Cat knew she was lost.
He'd kissed her the way women dreamed of being kissed, an erotic blend of tenderness and heat, of fierce need and sweet surrender that had toppled her defenses. She'd felt that kiss deep in her soul, in her heart, in every cell and fiber of her body. And she still felt it now, hours later, as she sat at her desk and stared at the mountain of unanswered correspondence waiting for her to organize it.
She'd wanted him more in that moment than she'd ever wanted anything or anybody in her entire life. Nothing else had mattered, not reason, not sanity, not the fact that they were quite probably the most mismatched couple in the United States and destined to remain so.
She sat there in her office, oblivious to the steady hum of her computer, and considered the situation. The man had ice water in his veins. The kiss had been his idea, but if it had meant one blasted thing to him, you'd never know it by the way he'd been acting ever since. A split second before the kids burst into the kitchen, they'd broken apart, and instantly it was as if the kiss had never happened. Cat had looked deeply into his green eyes, searching for a clue, a sign, anything that would indicate he'd felt a fraction of the wonder she'd found in his arms but there was nothing.
The rat.
Missy and Taj, two of her housecats, leaped up onto the desk, sending letters and magazines flying every which way. Scooter, who'd been sleeping at her feet on a bed of manuscript pages, grumbled loudly then lumbered off to find another place to nap. She hoped it was on top of the cowboy's pillow. Scooter drooled. It would serve him right.
The louse.
She ripped open a few sweepstakes offers from Publishers Clearing House and managed to waste a good half hour affixing gold seals and labels to various locations on the entry forms, all in the name of efficiency. It occurred to her that she could be putting her time to better use but she pushed that thought from her mind. Somebody had to win these things, a fact even the anal-retentive, clock-watching Riley McKendrick should understand.
The monster .
Even her own children were turning against her. The only one who was still normal was poor Jack, and that was only because he was in bed with the flu. By tomorrow Riley would have the kid asking for a horizontal file for his birthday. She'd seen the way the other little traitors hopped to it when the cowboy barked out an order. Wasn't this how fascism got its start?
The whole thing was disgusting. With McKendrick's help they'd color-coded clothes and toys and schoolbooks, and even followed him down to the basement to tackle the dozens of unmarked boxes that had followed them from their old house, and the house before that. The same boxes Cat had assumed would follow her one day to the old age home.
Well, not if Riley McKendrick had anything to do with it. Wasn't it enough the cowboy was turning her present inside out--did he have to stick his nose into her future as well? She'd grown attached to the idea of having those mystery boxes with her to warm her in her old age.
She pushed back her desk chair and rose to her feet. She couldn't just sit there while he turned her children into little robots with calculators tucked into their lunchboxes. Her nerves were on edge, she felt like she was coming down with something, and the fact that he was pretending that kiss never happened was suddenly more than she could take. If you were going to kiss someone the way he'd kissed her, the least you could do was own up to it.
With righteous fury in her breast, she marched through the hallway and downstairs to the basement where the situation was even worse than she'd thought. Kevin, Michael, Ben, and even Sarah were
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