Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
Oh. Well, at least he didn’t know about the friction and the tingling and the breathlessness and all of that.
“I’m okay.” Well, if he didn’t know about the breathlessness before, he certainly did now, because it was right there in her voice.
“Then I’m happy to continue.”
“Okay.” Why did the word have to sound like a whimper? He readjusted his grip moving his hands further up the backs of her thighs. This time the sound she made was an actual whimper and he stilled, angling his head toward her again.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.
“Uh huh.”
He didn’t move for a moment and several people passed them, giving them curious looks. It was only when a guy with a huge cooler box slung over his shoulder jostled Cade, that he started moving again.
He kept a steady pace and before Fern knew it, they were at street level. He loosened his hold on her and she slid down from his back in clumsy haste, fussily straightening her clothing in an attempt to avoid his eyes.
“I can walk from here,” she said after a moment. He was leaning against a railing, his strong arms folded across his chest, while he watched her fuss at her clothing.
“Aye?”
“Definitely.” Oh gosh, the breathlessness was back. She wasn’t even the one who’d done any of the work, but it was hard to remain composed when her nipples were hot coals that felt like they were burning a hole through her bra… And other parts of her felt swollen, achy, and were pulsing with every frenetic beat of her heart.
His eyes narrowed, probing.
“You look flushed,” he observed, his face as grim as his voice.
“It’s a warm day.”
He stepped toward her and—Oh God, how embarrassing—palmed her forehead like she was a child, wrapping his other hand around the nape of her neck to keep her still while his gaze bored into her eyes.
“What are you doing?” she asked on a horrified whisper.
“Checking to see if you have a fever.”
“Of course, I don’t.” She was mortified, but also… Gosh, he smelled really, really good, she wanted to step closer, burrow her nose into the tempting hollow of his neck. Maybe lick it, see if he tasted as good as he smelled.
The unfamiliar longing confused and shocked her. She almost sagged in relief when he released her and stepped away from her.
“Let’s go,” he told her, his voice uncompromising as he turned and squatted again.
Recognizing the futility in arguing, Fern launched herself onto his back. He stumbled slightly as he absorbed her weight but had her comfortably situated in no time.
“Your arse covered?” he asked and she checked the back of her skirt quickly.
“All fine,” she said and he grunted in approval before starting his climb again.
This was fucking torture.
Cade could manage the climb and her extra weight just fine… that wasn’t the problem.
The problem was the feel of her soft, silky skin under his hands, the press of her small breasts with their hard tips against his back, the warm rub of her pussy above his arse, the appealing hitch of her breath right in his ear.
It was damned near intolerable.
This was Fern. His wife. The woman he did not want nor desire. She was all kinds of wrong. Too small, too fragile, too inexperienced, too anemic and sickly looking… too goddamned pregnant.
He didn’t want her.
He kept his focus on the path ahead, ignoring her when she asked again if he needed a break.
Yeah, he needed a fucking break… a break away from her constant proximity.
They’d been married just over twenty-four hours and it already felt like an eternity. How the hell was he supposed to endure another three years of this torture?
She made a breathy whimpering sound in his ear, her warm breath washing over his temple and he glowered at the hapless bloke who was descending the steps directly in front of him. The man visibly swallowed and stepped to the side as Cade continued grimly on, not breaking his stride. Desperate to be home and rid of his burden.
Only there was no getting rid of her. She’d still be there, creeping around the place tentatively, ghosting out of each room he entered. As if he were some bad guy she couldn’t stand to be around.
She made another sound, this one resembling a moan—Jesus why were all her sounds so fucking sexy?—and he stopped dead in his tracks.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked again, expecting her to once again say that she was fine, and hating that she was lying to him.
“I’m…” Her voice husked into his ear, and he bit back his own pained groan in reaction to it. “I’m a little uncomfortable. I’d like to walk for a bit, please.”
He heaved an impatient sigh and eyed the rest of the steps. There were only a dozen or so to go. He figured she’d be able to manage those if they traversed the path slowly.