Treasured by Thursday (Weekday Brides Series Book 7)

“So how do I fit into this picture?”

 

 

“I have a team of lawyers, as well as private investigators, working on deeming Sheila incompetent as a parent. As a stable, married man, it’s not only easy to avoid Sheila claiming I agreed to marry her, but the court will use the evidence, and my current stable state, to grant me custody. My guess is, she will vacate the scene with a little money and time.”

 

“And if she doesn’t?”

 

Hunter was betting she would. “I’ll cross that road when I come to it.”

 

“And Noah?” she asked.

 

“He will get nothing. If I caved to any of his demands now, what is to stop him from doing it again?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Do you have a picture . . . of Hayden?”

 

Hunter removed his wallet from his pocket as Gabi walked toward him.

 

A mop of dark hair sat on top of a chubby face, the child’s fist was in his mouth, drool ran down his chin.

 

Gabi lifted her hand to the picture and placed a fingertip to the image. “He’s adorable.”

 

Yeah . . . the thought hit Hunter the first time he’d seen the kid. “Innocent.”

 

On a sigh, Hunter returned the picture to his wallet and tucked it into his pocket.

 

“What am I going to do with you?” Gabi whispered.

 

Hunter looked into her eyes, saw a hint of moisture hiding behind the dark depths of them.

 

“You’d be wise to keep your distance.”

 

Instead of distance, she closed the minimal space between them and placed a hand on his chest. “One minute you’re impersonating the greatest bastard out there . . . the next you’re rescuing babies from bad parents.”

 

“I’m not a hero, Gabi. Nowhere close.”

 

“No,” she agreed. “You’re not a saint. Your tactics are ruthless, tasteless, and seemingly without conscience. You’re impatient, greedy, and egotistical.”

 

He frowned.

 

“You’re cynical, downright nasty—”

 

He placed a hand to his chest. “You’re killing me.”

 

“I’m not done!” She batted his hand away from his chest and smiled. “You’re driven, which isn’t a bad thing. You’re influential and a little brilliant. I mean, c’mon . . . how many men at thirty-six make the Forbes billionaire bachelor list without family money?”

 

Some of his frown lifted.

 

“You fear honesty, but who doesn’t? It’s hard to reveal truths about yourself when you don’t know if the person you’re talking to is going to use it against you. It’s hard to trust when your own twin is screwing you over.”

 

He lifted a hand to her shoulder and held on. “I’m not—”

 

“I’m not finished.”

 

He sighed with a smile.

 

“You’re sexy, and the women in your life would have been fools to not try and capture whatever attention they could from you.”

 

Yeah, he was working out the muscles in his face with his grin.

 

“You’ve probably broken hearts from LA to New York to Europe. God help you if more than one woman arrives with a child in their hands that you can’t avoid.”

 

“I’ve always been safe.”

 

Gabi placed a finger over his lips, silencing him.

 

“And while you’re impatient with many mergers and acquisitions . . . and marriages . . . you’ve shown amazing restraint with your nephew and your wife.” She paused, her smile faded. “And that . . . Hunter Hayden Blackwell . . . is what is placing your feet on the road to hero.”

 

His hand gripped her shoulder. The trust in her eyes too powerful for words. “My restraint for you is a tightly strung string on a violin. One stroke and it’s going to snap.”

 

Her delicate fingers rode up his chest and wove around his neck. “God, I hope so.” She brought his head closer to hers, and kissed him.

 

The Stradivarius shattered.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

 

 

 

He was stunned, Gabi felt it in his kiss.

 

His hesitation lasted only a fraction of a second before he wrapped her into his strong arms and threw his weight into the meeting of their lips. So many sensations hit her at once. He tasted like whiskey, smelled like sin, and kissed her like a devil guaranteed to break her heart. There was no letting go, however. After lying dormant for so long, having a man as powerful as Hunter Blackwell devouring her wasn’t something she wanted to resist.

 

Not any longer.

 

She opened to the swipe of his tongue and lifted on her tiptoes to taste. There were no careful, languishing movements . . . both of them were much too anxious to feel the next zip of pleasure. Hunter ran a hand down the length of her back and back up to catch in her hair.

 

He released her lips to say, “Let this down. I want to see you with it down.”

 

She opened her eyes to see his hooded gaze.

 

With both hands, she released the clip and comb holding her hair. It cascaded over her shoulders in a wave.

 

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