“Angeline said, her octave dropping, “there you are.” If Quinton hadn’t been standing next to Kate, he wouldn’t have heard the curse she uttered right before she plastered all those soft, small curves to him. His limbs froze as her warmth engulfed him. She wore a lazy smile, but her eyes were sharp. No. They telegraphed, You’re so going to owe me. Confusion flickered through his brain for a millisecond. It would have lasted longer if any blood had remained in his head. “Sweetie,” she cooed, “who... is this?” “Kate?” He didn’t mind the way her breasts crushed into his chest and arm, nor could he really stop his hand from cupping her arse—the action was reflex. Maybe it was her musky scent that clogged his brain and kept him from understanding the sudden change. The woman he’d flirted with in his uncle’s pub would have never called him sweetie, much less throw herself at him. Kate rose to the tips of her toes, nuzzling his neck. His eyes closed as a groan spilled out.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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