Page 6 of Naughty Irish Liar

Narrowing my eyes, I focused on the redhead. Remembering all those fucking freckles and how they’d tripled that summer casting her soft face with a dot-to-dot tan.

She’d hated them.

I’d thought they were adorable.

I shackled her wrist, felt how delicate it was under my rough administrations and without further a fucking do I dragged her behind me, through the masses, ignoring stares and her gasped response.

I wouldn’t do this in public.

“Hey! Hold up now!” I caught her saying over my shoulder and her voice shunted through me as hard as if I’d been punched.

She’d grown into her rasping tones.

Fuck me.

She’d been a little girl with the voice of a woman.

All of sixteen trying to seduce her first man.

And me, the more than willing participant until I’d come to my fucking senses just in time.

But right then, with a thin, delicate wrist caught in my much bigger hand and a protesting woman clacking her lips, I didn’t care about how much money I could amass by putting my flag in the world.

My focus narrowed down to closing the door behind us, so I could look at this goddamn woman who had dared to walk into my domain like a fancy-ass princess with her tiara in place and kick my emotions into free-fall motion.

She was a daddy’s girl. Spoiled rotten from what I remembered.

Who the fuck was I kidding.

I remembered every detail of the summer I worked for her father.

General dogsbody my da would call it.

Hungry to learn how to grow a business from the best. Mr. Clemonte was renowned all over the world for his savvy way of commerce. Not a crook, surprisingly. I’d been so sure his reputation was too sparkling white for him to be that nice. I’d left my own shady shit behind and didn’t want to land myself in a fresh pile.

Turned out, Jon was a helluva nice guy who treated all his employees fairly.

I’d learned a lot from my summer internship with him despite how distracted I’d become because of this slip of a girl getting under my skin.

You’re a kid. How could I ever want you? I fuck women and you’re far from grown. Go back to playing with your toys, little girl.

Slamming the door to my office behind us I rounded on her with a steady gaze, watching how her chest heaved up and down. Green eyes firing bullets at me.

“Are you insane? You almost ripped my arm from its socket! I’ll be bruised all over.” She made a show of rubbing her wrist and grimacing like the little actress she was. “I need this arm, you know! It’s my shopping bag carrying arm.”

I stepped into her space, crowding her until she backed up with a little puff of surprised air escaping from those vivacious lips. With nowhere to go, she hit the wall behind her.Trapped.

I took her hand, turned it over and stroked a finger along the faint vein lines on her wrist.

Not a mark to see just as I thought.

Little brat.

All at once the fragrance she wore assaulted me. Making me think bad thoughts.

Really bad, dirty thoughts of licking the side of her neck she arched to look up at me.

She’d taste sweet. Princesses always tasted sweet.

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