Read His Lady Bride (Brothers in Arms) Online

Authors: Shayla Black,Shelley Bradley

Tags: #erotic, #Shayla Black, #Shelley Bradley, #historical

His Lady Bride (Brothers in Arms) (36 page)

BOOK: His Lady Bride (Brothers in Arms)

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The gig at Stone Global was exactly such a job. And things were going well. Better than well. People were cooperating. The press was moving on to new prey. The job was actually ahead of schedule, and thank God for it. Soon, I’d be back in my rightful place at the home office in San Diego and what just happened in Killian Stone’s penthouse would remain no more than a blip in my memory. A very secret blip.

I shook my head in defiance. What was wrong with having lived a little? At twenty-six, I was due for at least one heart-stopping kiss with a man who looked like dark sin, was built like a Navy SEAL, and kissed like a fantasy.
Sweet God, what a fantasy.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I muttered. “You didn’t break any rules…technically. He consented. And you sure as
hell
consented. So you’re—”

Having an argument with yourself in the middle of a hallway in the Lincoln Park 2550 building, waiting on the world’s slowest damn elevator.

I leaned on the call button again.

While
still
trying to talk myself out of pouncing on Killian’s buzzer, too. Or perhaps back into it. If I could concoct an excuse to ring his doorbell before the elevator arrived…

No. This is dangerous, remember?
He’s
dangerous
.
You know all the sordid reasons why, his
and
yours
.

Maybe I could just say I accidentally left my purse inside.

And that’ll fly…how?
One glance down at my oversized Michael Kors clutch had me cursing the fashion trend gods, along with their penchant for large handbags.

I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes and hoping for a light bulb. I was bombarded with Killian’s smell, instead. Armani Code. The cologne was still strong in my head, its rich bergamot and lemon mingling with the spice of his shampoo and the scotch on his breath, like he’d scent-marked me through the intimacy of our skin…

My fingers roamed to my cheek, tracing the abrasion from where he’d rubbed me with his stubble. My head fell back from the impact of the recollection.

In an instant, my mind conjured an image of him again, standing in front of me. Commanding. Looming. Hot…and hard. I felt his breath on my face again as he yanked me close. The press of his wool pants against my legs. The metallic scrape of his cufflinks on the wood of his desk as he shoved everything away to make room for our bodies. Then the wild throb of my heart as he tangled his hands in my hair, lifted my face toward his, and…

Yes.

The memory was so vivid, so good. I used the flat of my palm on my face now, thinking I could save the magic if I covered it. Protecting it from the outside world. Our perfect, shared moment in the middle of all this chaos.

Whoa.

“Get a grip.” I dropped my hand along with the furious whisper. It was one kiss. Incredible, yes, but I guaranteed
he
wasn’t still thinking about it like this. Behind that majestic door, Killian Stone moved again in his world, already focused on the next of his hundred priorities, none of them bearing my name. And he expected me to get back to mine: cushioning his company from that big, bad outside world I’d just been brooding over.
You’ve been hired to help clean up the Stone family’s mess, not add to it.

The elevator finally dinged.

At the same time, Killian’s condo door opened behind me.

I locked a smile on my face, trying to look like I had been patiently waiting for the elevator the entire time.

“Miss Montgomery?”

Not Killian. I didn’t know whether to curse or laugh.

“Yes?” I managed a Girl Scout-sweet reply.

A kind face was waiting when I turned around. The man wore such a warm expression, I was tempted to call him Fred.
Not
Alfred. Just Fred. The man was too handsome for a full “Alfred.”

Fred handed me a small ivory envelope, then stepped over into the elevator. He held the doors open while I got into the car with him. We rode in silence down to the lobby. I squirmed while Fred smiled as if it were Saturday in the park. Did he know what his boss had just done with me?

I winced toward the wall. Technically, Killian was
my
boss right now, too.

Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone.

He can never be “Killian” again.

The sooner you remember that, the better.

I was dying to open that little envelope, but carefully slipped it into my queen-size clutch for when I was alone again in the cab on my way back to the hotel.

“I’ll call the car ‘round for you.” Like his employer, Fred made it obvious the subject wasn’t up for debate, so I forced a smile and followed him across the gleaming lobby to the building’s front awning. In less than a minute, the black town car with the Stone Global logo on its doors appeared. I climbed in, all the while yearning for the anonymity of a city cab instead.

Chicago was a great city, but the traffic was insane, even as evening officially blended into nighttime. Nevertheless, Killian’s building was swiftly swallowed by the lush trees of the neighborhood. I was on my way back to the hotel. Back to real life—and all the dangers that waited if anyone on the team ever learned where I’d just been.

For just a few more seconds, I yearned to remember the fantasy, instead. Perhaps the treasure in my purse would help.

I pulled it out, running reverent fingers over it again. Nothing was written on the outside. Killian—Mr. Stone—had simply expected it would be delivered straight to me.

The elegant handwriting inside, dedicated to just one sentence, dried out my throat upon impact.

I must see you again.

He left no signature. No phone number. Not even an email address. But the strangest part about it all? I wasn’t surprised. He was Killian Jamison Stone. And he kissed like
that
. Things—and people—came to him, not the other way around.

But did I have the strength to be one of those people, knowing I’d never see him again after three months?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Shayla Black (aka Shelley Bradley) is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over forty sizzling contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances produced via traditional, small press, independent, and audio publishing. She lives in Texas with her husband, munchkin, and one very spoiled cat. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

Shayla’s books have been translated in about a dozen languages. She has been nominated for career achievement in erotic romance by RT Bookclub, as well as twice nominated for Best Erotic Romance of the year. Additionally, she’s either won or been nominated for the Passionate Plume, the Holt Medallion, Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence, and the National Reader’s Choice Awards.

A writing risk-taker, Shayla enjoys tackling writing challenges with every new book.

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LINKS TO MY OTHER BOOKS

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