Page 117 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“What does he care what rope I pick up?”
She pressed her hand to her heart and closed her eyes. “I’m getting a vibe.”
“From the donkey?” he shot back.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she glared up at him. “Yes, from the donkey. Just like humans, animals can forge deep, spiritual connections.”
He glanced at Beefcake, currently sniffing Plum’s ass. “Yeah, I can see that,” he deadpanned. “But I think I’m good to grab hold of Plum’s lead.” He took another step forward, picked up Plum’s rope, then tugged. The gray Jennie released an alarming cry and tugged back, triggering Beefcake to dart toward him, baring those bloody giant donkey teeth.
“Raz, be careful!” Libby called.
He dropped Plum’s rope and raised his hands above his head.
This Beefcake was worse than any bloke he’d faced in the ring. But now, he understood the beast. Cooing and sweet talk wasn’t the way to make his point.
That’s not how beasts communicated.
He had to change tack. It was time for a meeting of the beefcakes.
He paced across the barn as the pound of rain against the roof slowed to a gentle pitter-patter. “All right, all right, I get it, Beefcake. You don’t want me messing with your girl, you wanker burro. I see where you’re coming from.” He caught Libby out of the corner of his eye. With her jaw nearly hitting the floor and her head cocked to the side, she observed as he bantered away with Beefcake like they were two chaps in a pub. A tingle ran down his spine. He liked having her eyes on him. He puffed up a little more, getting into character. “You see, mate, I can’t leave you here untied. You can eat the bloody strawberries. Your girl can, too, but I’m going to tie your lead to that post. Are we seeing eye to eye, Beefcake?” He glanced at Libby. “You want to add anything? Any vibe you’re picking up?”
“No, I think you’ve conveyed the message clearly,” she answered, looking mighty impressed—or maybe gobsmacked. Either way, he’d become the bloody beefcake whisperer.
Take that, plonker Dougie.
“Come on,” he coaxed, tugging at Beefcake’s rope. The animal complained, but it was no different than asking some cantankerous bloke in an East London hole in the wall to move down a stool. “There,” he said, tying the lead to the side of the barn. “Now we both win, you arsey ass.”
The donkey looked him square in the eye and nodded.
Now that’s the way beefcakes get it done.
“Looks like there are two donkey whisperers in Rickety Rock. Zen Dougie’s not the only one with mad donkey skills,” he said, adding a little swagger to his step as he pinned Libby with his gaze.
He’d expected to find her beaming at him. He had charmed the donkey into compliance. Instead, she scowled. Leaning against one of the beams supporting the structure, she stared out the opening. “There are blue skies in the distance. We can go when the rain lets up. This will be over soon,” she added with an irritated edge.
What had set her off? Was it something he said?
“What do you suggest we do while we wait?”
“I plan on distracting myself with thoughts of my benchmark night with Doug,” she answered sharply. Yes, there was sarcasm in her biting tone, but that didn’t mean he found it humorous.
With the animals secured and feasting on the berries, he zeroed in on the raven-haired woman, who drove him bloody crazy. His steps devoured the ground between them.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
His trainers cut into the pebbled ground as his pulse hammered in his throat. Libby held his gaze, scrutinizing his every step. Most people shuddered when he set his sights on them. He was an imposing man. When he turned it on and asserted his dominance, fighters quaked in their boots.
But not this woman.
She wasn’t easily intimidated. He knew that better than anyone. Thanks to the viral video, the bloody world knew it, too. He stopped mere inches away from her, but the woman remained undisturbed and seemingly unaware of his little peacock display, save for one barely perceptible behavior. She inhaled a quick, shaky breath. Oh, she could try to pretend that his presence didn’t affect her, but she sensed his nearness. His fingertips tingled at the prospect of touching her, and his cock took notice of her wet T-shirt, voluptuous breasts, and the points of her hardened nipples pushing up beneath the soaked garment. Every muscle in his body tensed. The attraction between them sparked electric. They were two live wires pulsing with energy, and the desire to have her focus her energy on him, and only him, was too strong to resist.
He bit back a grin.
He knew how to push her buttons and shift her thoughts away from Dougie the Plonker and onto him.
He leaned in. “I remembered something.”
She kept her gaze trained on the view outside. “Oh yeah?”
