Taming the Tycoon

chapter Three


Three days later, Addie was knocking on the door of Nathaniel Montgomery’s apartment at his exclusive St. Katherine’s Docks address. After some haggling, she’d managed to convince him that paying off part of her debt should involve driving him to his grandmother’s shindig as well.

It was simple, she’d explained. He couldn’t drive because of his sprained ankle, which was her fault, and she could drive, so…

Simple.

Then he answered the door and his damp hair was curled around his collar and simple had never seemed more complicated.

He was wearing an exquisitely cut dark brown suit. A mulberry shirt, open at the neck, picked out the fine slate pinstripes in his trousers and unbuttoned jacket. It was funky and striking and a far cry from the conservative suit he’d worn to the garden protest.

She could only presume this was his attempt at being casual, although his smooth jawline belied that. How much more casual—more sexy—would he look with a three-day growth?

Not that he looked like the kind of guy who did three-day growths—not professional enough for Mr. Workaholic, she suspected.

Still, it was a gorgeous garment that fit him to absolute perfection and even leaning on his crutches in a suit most gay men would covet, he vibrated more potency than any male she’d ever known.

Addie felt completely out of her depth in the presence of such overwhelming masculinity. She looked down at her own informal appearance, then back at him. For the love of all that was holy, did the man not own a T-shirt?

“You’re still on crutches?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t squeak as his gaze swept her from head to toe. “I thought it was just a sprain.” She should have suspected he’d downplay it. She only found out about his thigh hematoma from Margaret.

“I only use them if I need to walk any kind of distance or on stairs,” he dismissed. And then he frowned at her. “Your…hair is different.”

Addie touched it self-consciously. “Yes.”

She noticed him following the movement of her hand as it pushed into the layers and scrunched at the blond strands.

“Why?”

“The corn rows start to look a bit scruffy after a few days and the maintenance is a bit of a pain.”

“Oh. I see,” he said, which plainly he didn’t. “Why wear it like that at all?”

Addie smiled at his male logic. “Because I can,” she said. After surviving cancer, hair was one of the many things she’d vowed she’d never take for granted ever again.

He gave her a puzzled look. “Okay. Let’s get this over and done with.”

Addie heard the long-suffering note in his voice and decided to ignore it. She was determined to enjoy the weekend. Determined that he would enjoy it, too. “Where’s your bag?” she asked, looking pointedly behind him trying to see inside his apartment. All she could make out was acres of light, and large white marble tiles, which only whetted her curiosity.

What would his living space look like? Would it be a typical minimalist bachelor pad with cold chrome and black leather, or would it have a woman’s touch? What would the docks look like from the penthouse suite? Did he have a good view of Tower Bridge?

He reached for something obscured from her view near the door and straightened, slinging a leather satchel over his neck, settling it on his hip.

“This is all I need. I keep clothes at home.”

He moved out into the hallway, shutting the door behind him, managing the maneuver on the crutches with ease. Addie glanced at the closed door wistfully before turning to watch him striding ahead, making headway with each powerful swing on his crutches as if he’d been born with the damned things.

She rolled her eyes. Even supposedly incapacitated, the man had to be in front of everyone else. She hurried to catch up to him and made it in time for the lift arrival.

Nathaniel indicated for her to precede him, and then regretted it as her faded denim cutoffs and the way they pulled across her pert bottom drew his gaze. She turned, leaning against the back wall, and he noted the raggedy edging at her delicate knees and the way the fabric left no inch of her slender thighs to the imagination.

His gaze moved upward. Some kind of Celtic-looking cross encrusted with crystals hung from a brown leather thong and sat in the hollow of her throat, centering his attention on her chest. Breasts that stretched a red round-necked T-shirt to its absolute limit kept it there.

Very nice breasts.

She peered at him through longish bangs that brushed her eyelashes with each owlish blink. He’d spent the last few days wondering what her hair would look like loose, and she’d delivered. The tight rows of frivolous plaits had gone, replaced with long wispy strands of hair in varying shades of blond, falling in layers around her face and over her shoulders.

He didn’t understand women’s obsession with their hair. Why choose a hairstyle that required such upkeep? That just didn’t seem rational.

He hesitated before getting in. She looked so small and harmless in the cavernous lift, but everything about her screamed danger. She’d been fascinating enough in her hippie skirt and corn rows the other day, but looking practically normal in her denim cutoffs and conservative T, she was potentially lethal.

What the hell had he agreed to?

Three days ago he hadn’t known this woman from Adam, and now he was taking her home to meet his mother and thinking of other ways for her to repay her crazy debt to the universe. Like maybe getting her naked and seeing firsthand whether her hair completely covered her bare breasts.

Obviously, his usually discerning libido had been damaged in the fall and was not to be trusted.

“Mr. Montgomery?”

Nathaniel blinked. Her bangs obscured her furrowed brows, but he could tell by the uncertainty clouding her big, gray eyes that his hesitation was making her nervous.

He gave himself a mental shake. “Do you think we could dispense with the ‘mister,’ Addie?” he said as he swung into the lift and punched the lobby button. “You are supposed to be my date, after all.”

“Of course, sorry.”

The door closed and suddenly the huge lift seemed very small indeed, as a waft of something that reminded him of Christmas—eggnog or mulled wine—gently encompassed him. Nathaniel wondered if she tasted as good. He turned away from her, facing the lift panel and leaning heavily on his crutch as the silence stretched. “You didn’t have any problems finding me, then?”

“Hardly. I live here, too.”

What the—? Nathaniel almost dropped a crutch as he turned to face her. The woman looked like she slept in a gypsy caravan. “You live at St. Katherine’s Dock?”

She laughed as the lift settled with cushioned ease on the ground floor. “You are such a snob.” The doors opened and she pushed off the back wall, brushing past him.

He watched her go, dumbfounded. It wasn’t until the doors started to slide shut that he realized he hadn’t moved. He shoved his crutch between the closing doors and they obediently opened again.

“You don’t live in Ivory House,” he called after her as he exited the lift.

Nathaniel liked to have every angle covered when doing a deal, whether it was buying a place to live or closing a multimillion-dollar property settlement. He’d had each owner of the luxury, loft-style apartments that inhabited the converted nineteenth-century merchant’s warehouse checked out before he’d purchased his. He didn’t like surprises.

Which probably explained why Addie Collins unsettled him so much.

So if she didn’t live in Ivory House, where did she live? There were a small number of townhouses within the docks, but this was an exclusive area. He watched the threadbare patch on the back of her thigh and wondered how on earth she could afford this kind of real estate.

Maybe she’d inherited family money? Unfortunately, that unsettled him even more. Pampered princesses were not his cup of tea. Another good reason why his inexplicable attraction to Addie should be put down to temporary insanity from the bump he’d had to his head.

And certainly not be acted upon.

He exited the building and pulled up short. She was standing still, eyes shut, her face turned skyward, the sun reflecting off those damn purple sunglasses she’d worn to the protest. Lunchtime crowds reveling in the September sunshine careened around her but she stood unperturbed, a look of utter bliss on her face.

And he wanted her with a fierceness that scared the hell out of him.

Nathaniel blinked at the searing insight.

“So?” he demanded as he drew level. “Where do you live?”

Addie sighed, opening her eyes to look at him. “I live over there.”

Nathaniel followed the direction of her extended arm, trying to pinpoint the exact location. He frowned. “You live at the Dickens Inn?”

Addie laughed. “No. A little to the left.”

He remembered that laugh from the other day. It was light and tinkly and it distracted him momentarily from the fact that the only thing to the left of the Dickens was the water.

He dragged his mind back to the conversation with difficulty. “This isn’t where you tell me you’re actually a mermaid, is it?”

It would certainly explain the spell she seemed to be weaving around him. If he believed in that kind of thing.

Which he didn’t.

She laughed again. “No. I live on the Ida May. A forty-seven foot long boat.”

Nathaniel stared at her and then looked back to the area she’d been pointing, where a variety of boats from sleek multimillion-dollar cruisers to colorful canal boats bobbed side by side in their moorings.

Of course. He should have guessed.

“I inherited it from a great aunt and the best thing about it is it’s only a hop, skip, and a jump from work.”

Nathaniel’s brain reeled. “You work here, too?”

Addie was starting to get a little ticked by Nathaniel’s attitude, and trying to find her center wasn’t cutting the mustard. Surely a savvy businessman knew not to judge books by their covers?

“Tell me, Nathaniel. Does it surprise you that I work here or that I work at all?”

He ignored the jibe and she watched as his busy mind connected the dots. “Oh God, you work in the crystal shop, don’t you?”

Addie glared at him. “If you mean Soul Food, then yes. And I don’t just work in it, I own it. It’s mine.”

Nathaniel’s gaze fell on the crystal-encrusted pendant around her neck. “You own a shop that sells crystals?”

Addie shoved her hands on her hips as her center moved further and further away. “It’s an organic gourmet food outlet with a thriving Internet ordering arm that turns over half a million pounds a year.”

Nathaniel blinked. “Then what the hell is with the crystals?”

“I like them,” she snapped. “They’re pretty. And customers buy them to give them a focus during meditation.”

“Meditation? Jesus, no wonder you believe in this paying-it-forward crap.”

“Yes,” she hissed, her center so far away she doubted she’d ever be able to find it again. He was looking at her as if she’d just confessed to breeding unicorns rather than indulging in a form of ancient relaxation. “Meditation. You should try it sometime. Maybe it’ll help with the whole uptight, arrogant, stuffed-shirt thing you’ve got going on.”

Addie stormed off, aware of him following her at a more sedate pace. She stopped to let a bunch of rowdy lunchtime pub goers get through a narrowed walking area. A couple of lads leered at her and she suddenly felt Nathaniel’s presence looming behind her, the guys seemingly thinking better of going beyond gawking.

“You’re pissed at me,” he said as they passed by. “Let’s call it off.”

Addie took a deep, calming breath. No way. She’d see this through to the end if it killed her. Someone had to save Nathaniel Montgomery from himself. Unfortunately, the universe had decreed it be her. “Not on your Nelly. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

He sighed. “At the risk of you publicly eviscerating me, can I inquire as to whether you actually own a motor vehicle?”

She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind. She doubted she’d ever met someone so quick to judge, but he quickly held up his hands. “I’m not doubting your financial ability to do so. I just don’t know where you would keep one, given that your place of residence doesn’t have a garage.”

Addie searched his face for any signs of criticism. “I’ve borrowed Penny’s van.”

He frowned. “The Kombi from the other day? Are you serious?” Addie just stared at him and waited for him to realize she was. “You’re serious.” He shook his head. “Ah, no. I don’t think so.”

It was on the tip of Adie’s tongue to inquire whether his gold-plated arse was too precious for a lowly Kombi, but she refrained. His suit jacket had ridden up and she could see how well put together his backside was—the less she referred to it the better.

And she would not let his negativity cloud her aura. “It’s perfectly capable of getting us to Devon.”

“I doubt it. It’s a bomb.”

Addie held her ground. “It’s vintage.”

“It reeks of paint. We’ll be high as kites by the time we get there.”

Addie shrugged. She barely registered the smell any longer. “She’s an artist.”

Nathaniel smiled. “Of course she is, but I’m not going in that. You can drive my car.”

“What kind of car do you drive?” she asked trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

“A Porsche.”

Addie almost choked. “Of course you do.” She shook her head. “No way in hell am I driving a Porsche.”

If she crashed that sucker, she’d be forever in his debt. She shivered at the idea.

“Well, I guess that leaves us back at my original plan,” he snapped, reaching for his phone.

“Margaret,” he barked into the mouthpiece, but Addie was very aware of his eyes firmly trained on her face. “Get me a car.”

She couldn’t hear what the other woman said, but he shot her a triumphant smile as he listened and Addie felt a little dizzy.

“Margaret, you’re a gem,” he said, then hit the end button on the phone. “My PA, God bless her cotton socks, took the liberty of putting my usual service on hold,” he informed her. “She says it’ll be here in a jiffy.”

“Fine,” Addie said. “But you’re passing up the ride of a lifetime in a classic vehicle.”

“How will I go on?”

…

Three quarters of an hour later, they were still in the thick of city traffic and had barely spoken a word. Nathaniel had opened the limo door for her, shown her how to operate the television, and told her to help herself to the bar. Then he shrugged out of his jacket, pulled out a stack of papers and his laptop from his satchel, and promptly ignored her.

Feeling like a complete fish out of water amidst the plush surroundings, the idea of getting messy drunk was appealing, but she’d given up alcohol a few years back and even if she hadn’t, knowing her propensity to get flirty after a couple of drinks, it probably wasn’t the wisest course of action in a limousine that looked like a boudoir on wheels.

And next to a man who could tempt a nun.

Instead, she pulled out a book on ancient meditation practices she’d packed and managed to pick up the thread again. But each time Nathaniel shifted or rustled paper or made a phone call, it jerked her out of the text.

She tried to breathe deeply and find the center she’d totally lost earlier. She let her mind go blank and willed the numbers to come. There were many mantras that people used to relax them into a meditative state, but Addie preferred the familiarity and comfort of math. It had been her entire life for many years, and the soothing habit of counting prime numbers or the decimal points of pi never failed to ease her into a relaxed state.

But then Nathaniel’s phone rang, bursting her number bubble and her peripheral vision filled with broad shoulders and the thrust of two long, powerful legs. Her gaze drifted his way for the umpteenth time. The urge to touch him built. The desire to run her thumb over his collar, skim her knuckles against his shirt, feel the friction beneath her finger as she followed a slate pinstripe down his leg.

Where on earth did one buy a suit so exquisite? Or had elves made it for him while he slept? She hoped he planned on dressing down some more this weekend, because she was beginning to develop a fixation for him in pinstripes. And surely he’d look less commanding in a pair of jeans and wellies mucking out alpaca poop?

As her gaze strayed to him once again, his dark head bent, engrossed in his work, she noticed his hand drop to his thigh and knead at the muscles beneath. A spike of guilt flushed her cheeks.

“Does it still hurt?” she asked.

He raised his head and frowned at her before absently looking at his hand. He grimaced. “A little.”

“I really am sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said.

Addie shot him a skeptical look. “You sprained your ankle and bruised your thigh. If it weren’t for my stunt we wouldn’t have been handcuffed together, and we wouldn’t have been standing at that exact spot at that exact time.”

“The ankle’s much better. So’s the thigh,” he dismissed. “It happened. Let’s not belabor it.”

Addie frowned. Typical of him to be business as usual.

Fine.

She half turned in her seat to face him. “So… what’s our story?” she asked. “How’d we meet?”

He sighed as he pushed his papers aside. “Meet?”

Addie rolled her eyes. “I’m assuming we’ll have to be convincing in our roles? Don’t we need to get our stories straight?”

Nathaniel pursed his lips as he looked her over and Addie suddenly knew what it would be like to have his singular, laser-like focus. Her breath hitched, her nipples beaded, her pelvic floor went into spasm.

Was it possible to orgasm from a look?

“Well, they’re never going to believe what I usually tell them.”

Addie was yanked from the sexual haze as she was judged and obviously found wanting. It shouldn’t matter that an evil tycoon had dismissed her, but somehow it did. She shot him an icily polite smile. “Oh, and what’s that?”

“A fundraiser.”

“I go to fundraisers,” she said indignantly.

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not talking about those kind of fundraisers.”

Addie felt her temper spike and she desperately reached for her center. Drat this man. Ever since she’d gone into remission, she’d tried to live a happy, centered life, and he’d done nothing but force her out of it, keeping her constantly off-kilter since she’d heard about his plan to destroy St. Aggie’s rose garden.

Anger wasn’t good for her health.

“Those kind?”

He shot her a sardonic smile. “Saving South American rainforests and rare tree frogs. That kind.”

Oh, he thought he had her figured out, did he? “It strikes me that you might win more points from them if you were straight from the get-go. ’Fessed up to us meeting at the protest? After all, the best lies are always grounded in truth. Surely a businessman with your pedigree already knows that?”

She’d researched him enough to know that his father, the late Nigel Montgomery, had employed tactics that were often questionable and had walked a very fine line between on-the-level and the wrong-side-of-shady.

Still, it gave her no satisfaction to see his lips flatten temporarily. She hated what she became around him. How could he infuriate and rouse with so little effort?

But if he thought she was going to sit back and let him run roughshod over her, then he had another think coming.

“They have to think we like each other,” he pointed out.

“Why? Can’t you just say you brought me to the party to try and sway me to your way of thinking?”

“My grandmother—who is bonkers—wants great-grandbabies. She’s eighty. Old enough to be cantankerous about it. She thinks I’m bringing a girlfriend. And I just want some peace.”

Something shifted deep inside her at the thought of having a baby with this man. Or at least at the thought of doing the thing that led to babies.

It.

Doing it.

“I hope she doesn’t expect us to make one this weekend? Because this deal does not,” she said primly even as the words forming in her mind made her heart beat faster, “involve sexual favors.”

Addie swallowed as his laser gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered on her breasts, then returned very slowly back to her mouth, brushing heat everywhere. She could see his pulse thudding at the base of his throat through the open neck of his shirt as that spicy aroma of his wafted toward her.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave and suddenly she didn’t feel like she was wanting at all. “It could be fun.”

Something kicked in her chest deep down inside her. His voice stirred wicked thoughts of sexual abandonment. Good grief—a few hours in his company and she was actually contemplating Nathaniel Montgomery’s definition of fun.

When had he gone from evil tycoon to potential weekend shag?

When had she gone bonkers?

Nathaniel snorted, breaking into her crazy thoughts. “No need to worry. There won’t be shared rooms. My grandmother, despite being alternate and desperate for progeny, has a strong moral code that seems to involve very strict rules about my house guests. Although,” he added derisively, “not so much for her own. Your virtue will be safe from me.”

Addie nodded, relieved. Even if that tiny bit of her still clenched in anticipation seemed to be annoyingly disappointed.

“Good.” Really, it was. “So, that puts us back to square one. Where did we meet?”

He cast a considering eye over her and Addie felt as if she were a specimen under a microscope again—a very ugly specimen—the heat from earlier nowhere in sight. Unfortunately, her body didn’t seem to care about the perfunctory nature of his gaze.

“Surely it’s not that hard,” she said waspishly. “Where do all you rich guys usually meet women?”

He shrugged. “Parties, galas, opening nights. Been to any of them recently?”

“Of course.” Addie smiled at him, her teeth practically gnashing as she ignored his mocking tone. “The opening night of Annie by the Wapping Elementary sixth form was a real hoot. Penny’s niece didn’t even need to wear a wig.”

“I’m sure it was,” he said dryly as he started to roll up a sleeve.

Despite her aching jaw, Addie’s gaze was drawn to the perfect delineation of muscles in his forearms and the way they undulated beneath his skin. The urge to touch, to feel their warmth, their bulk was surprisingly strong.

She dragged her gaze away, annoyed further. “Why don’t we just say you came into my shop?”

He frowned. “Why on earth would I go into your shop?”

Addie blinked at his instant rebuttal. “Why wouldn’t you come into my shop?”

“You sell crystals.”

He said “crystals” the same way he’d said “meditation.” Like both things had landed from outer space and were in the realm of the ridiculous.

Oh dear. Her job to humanize grew bigger with every passing hour.

She held onto her patience. “How about to get your grandmother an eightieth-birthday present?”

Nathaniel started on his other sleeve and Addie’s gaze followed, entranced. “I got her a voucher from the nearest farm supply store.”

Addie gaped. “Bloody hell, why didn’t you just get her a vacuum cleaner or an iron? I hope you pick better gifts for the other women in your life.”

“It’s what she wanted,” he said, glaring at her. “I doubt very much she’d value a Tiffany necklace or an Armani handbag down on the farm.”

Addie shook her head. The man had millions of pounds and not one single clue. “Lucky for you,” she said, fishing around in her bag for the gift, “this year, you have me.”

She handed him the box. It fitted neatly into the palm of his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked.

Addie watched him stare at the gift as if it were a ticking time bomb. “It’s your gift to your grandmother.”

He stared at it a bit more, then pushed it back toward her. “Thanks, but she likes the vouchers.”

“I’m sure she does,” Addie said in her best stupid-man voice. “But she’s eighty. It’s kind of a big one. Something a little more personal might help soothe your failure to produce a great-grandchild.”

Nathaniel looked at her, one eyebrow kicking up. “Unless you have a fertilized egg in here and someone to incubate it, I don’t think it’s going to be quite up to par.”

Addie crossed her arms. “Just open the damned box.”

She held her breath as he opened it. She’d known when the stock had come in this morning that it would be the perfect gift for Nathaniel’s grandmother. After all, she couldn’t turn up to a birthday party empty-handed, and something about it had appealed to her.

He didn’t say anything, just looked at the piece of jewelry, which made Addie nervous. “Grandmothers like brooches,” she said to fill the silence. “It’s their era. It’s a lot more personal than a voucher. And I thought with the earth goddess in the middle surrounded by the crystals, it might appeal to a lady farmer.”

“It’s fine,” he said snapping the lid closed and handing it back to her. “I’m sure she’ll be delighted by it.”

Addie took it. Fine? What the hell did that mean?

“Wow,” she said, giving him a wooden smile, even though her face felt like it was going to crack with the effort. “Your enthusiasm overwhelms me. Is there a reason why you’re so cranky, or are you just constantly uptight?”

“I am not cranky,” he snapped.

Addie raised both her eyebrows. “Of course not.”

Nathaniel raked a hand through his hair and she could practically feel the waves of frustration emanating from him as they battered her body. Which was a shame, because this was the second time now she’d seen his hair all mussed up—the first time being those minutes they’d spent in the gutter together—and the ruffled look added an extra layer to his already lethal sexiness.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” he said. “It’s a bad time for me to be away from London. I have some deals in the pipeline and Hill Top is like the black hole of Devon.”

Addie, still distracted by his appearance, found herself wondering if he’d look this shaggy first thing in the morning. She made an effort to drag her recalcitrant thoughts back into line as he continued to speak.

“Phone reception is dicey at best, and they only have dial-up Internet that’s slow and drops out constantly. I don’t really have the time for any of this.”

“So you’re cranky because you’ll be out of touch for forty-eight hours? Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that’s exactly what you need. A couple of days to chill out. Relax.”

She felt his glare right down to her toes. “No. What I need is to work. That’s what I do. I hate being idle.”

Addie heard the desperate note to his voice and almost felt sorry for him. Back when she’d been part of the rat race, a weekend in the countryside, far away from access to 24/7 technology, would have stressed her, too. “Why don’t you get a satellite dish installed on the farm?” she asked as she fished around inside her cavernous holdall for the small gift bag she’d purchased for the brooch. “That way you can still stay connected to your empire.”

“Don’t think I haven’t tried. My grandmother thinks they’re evil. She’s convinced they’re carcinogenic.”

Addie smiled to herself at the dejected note in his voice. Several octaves higher and he’d sound just like a little boy who’d been told he couldn’t go to the sweet shop.

She located the gift bag and dropped the box inside. She spied the other gift she’d bought and hesitated for a moment, almost chickening out, embarrassed by her impulsive gesture. But she quickly quashed it. Being impulsive, spreading the love, and taking joy in other people’s pleasure was who she was now. And she wasn’t going to let a thwarted tycoon who wore a suit to a farm change her.

She’d survived a ravaging disease and a treatment that had put her on the critical list in intensive care for a week. She wouldn’t let his brooding disapproval of her lifestyle intimidate her.

“Well, this might help,” she said, bringing the book out and giving it to him.

She watched him closely as he turned it over and over like he’d never seen one before. “It’s a book,” she explained patiently. “You know, back in the old days, before iPhones and the World Wide Web, we actually used to read in our spare time? I figured a man who didn’t go to the movies has probably missed out on one of the best books to ever come out of this country.”

He grunted. “The boy wizard, huh?”

Addie pressed her lips together so the laughter wouldn’t bubble out as “boy wizards” obviously joined meditation and crystals in the neat little box in his head labeled “weird stuff.”

It could be fun opening up his world.

If she didn’t murder him first.

“It’ll keep you from being idle when the Internet’s down,” she said, patting his leg as if she were placating a child.

Except it suddenly didn’t seem very placatory and she immediately wished she hadn’t.

Nathaniel Montgomery was no child.

His quad muscle was certainly all man. It filled her palm, warm and vibrant, and her hand felt hot as his gaze fanned over it, fixing on their point of contact. She felt him tense slightly and for a crazy moment she wanted to run her palm along the length of his thigh, familiarize herself with every millimeter. She’d caught a glimpse of his leg the other day as his trousers had been cut off and now she’d inadvertently copped a feel.

She really needed to stop getting herself into such compromising positions.

His gaze shifted to her face and Addie swallowed. “Idle minds are the devil’s playground,” he murmured.

Her breath stuttered to a halt as their gazes locked for a few seconds. Her cheeks felt warm and her heart fluttered madly in her chest, and if she hadn’t realized before, she knew right then and there that he could tempt her to play with him too easily.

Nathaniel posed a threat to more than just her rose garden.