Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 92734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
They pulled up to the reception hall—the same one that had been used to announce Teague and Callie’s wedding—and everyone piled out of the limo. Half the guests had somehow beaten them there, and the tables were filling up as they made their way up to the main table on the platform. Carrigan gave the crowd a cursory glance, and then almost tripped over her feet when she caught sight of a familiar blond head of hair. No way. She touched Sloan’s arm. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay. Don’t be too long, though. I think our mother has dinner set up to go off immediately, followed by the toasts.”
One of which Carrigan was giving. She nodded without taking her eyes off the blond man. That was definitely James. “I know. I won’t miss it.” She moved away before her sister could say something else, winding through the tables and trying to get a better look. This is stupid. Just walk over and tap him on the shoulder and then you’ll see that it’s not James, because there’s no way James could be here. But then he looked over his shoulder, caught her eye, and winked. She changed course, determined to drag his ass out of here before one of her brothers or, worse, her father, realized he was in the room.
James stood and walked toward the door leading deeper into the building—not the exit. That’s it. I’m going to kill him. Carrigan checked to make sure no one was following, and then ducked after him. She barely made it three steps when an arm wrapped around her waist and a hand over her mouth cut off her curse.
“Relax, lovely. It’s me.”
She damn well knew it was him. It wasn’t like she was wandering down the hall for her health. She elbowed him and slipped free. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Why do you ask?” He rubbed his stomach with a grimace. “You sure do like beating me up.”
“I don’t respond well to being grabbed without warning.” She waved it away. “Back to more important things—why are you here?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I was invited.”
“You were invited.” She hadn’t realized it was possible to actually feel her blood boil. “You’re a smart man, James.”
“Why do I feel you’re about to use that as a backhanded compliment?”
She ignored the question. “And, as a smart man, you have to be aware that the invitation was a gesture only. No one wants you here, and just by being here, you’re upping the chances of causing a conflict that will jeopardize the peace.”
“Ah, lovely.” He grinned, his total lack of concern making her blood pressure spike. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re sweet on me.”
“I’m not. I don’t believe in caring about idiots who have death wishes.” She smacked his arm. “You need to leave. Now.”
“Bossy, bossy.” He turned and walked farther down the hall, forcing her to chase him like a yippy dog. “Pretty wedding.”
“Yeah, it was.” She glanced over her shoulder. So far no one had come looking for her, but it was only a matter of time. “James…” What could she say? That it would kill a little part of her if something happened to him? It was nothing more than the truth, and it still pissed her off that he’d taken a risk like this. “Leave.”
James peered through a door and then kept it open with his foot. “Not until I get what I came for.”
Of course he’d come here for a specific reason. She should have known. Carrigan sighed. “Okay, fine. Hurry up and get what you came for and then you can get out of here.” She frowned when he laughed. “What’s so funny?”
“Lovely, I came here for you.” He grabbed her wrist and hauled her against his chest, simultaneously taking a step back that brought them into the room he’d just been looking in. She got the vague impression of a storage closet, and then he shoved the door shut and his mouth was on hers. Shock had her opening for him, shock and the fact that she was hot and wanting just by his touching her.
Torn between shoving him off and yelling at him some more, and kissing him until she forgot all the reasons this was a bad idea, it was no contest. She slid her hands down his chest to hook his belt. “I need you.”
“You’ve read my mind.” He pulled at her dress, bunching it up. The further it rose, the greater the barrier between them. “How much fucking fabric does one dress need?”
Too much. She pulled away and turned around. “Unzip me.”
He wasted no time in obeying, dragging the zipper down and shoving the offending dress off her shoulders to puddle on the floor. Then he was there, pressed against her bare back, his hand slipping around and into her panties. “You’re wet for me.”