Creed (The Marquette Family Book One) by Lockwood Tressie

Author:Lockwood, Tressie [Lockwood, Tressie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amira Press
Published: 2014-09-19T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Shada slammed a pot on the stove and then forgot what the heck she intended to do with it. She stomped to the larder and wrenched the door open, as if that would hurt anyone. The vast store of food lay before her, but for the first time, nothing appealed. She went in anyway and grabbed random items. Putting them on the counter, she added eggs, peppers, and steak. She cracked the eggs into a bowl and crumbled half the shells in as well.

“Damn it!” she screamed and threw the bowl into the sink. Good thing the bowl is made of stainless steel, she thought after the fact. Another try produced the same effect, and the clank of metal to metal did nothing to calm her rage.

“Hey!”

Shada scowled at Creed, not having realized he was there. She had hoped, with it being so late, no one would be around, and she could work out her frustrations alone. “Why are you here?” she demanded.

He strode over to her and removed the tenth egg from her fingers. “I work here, remember? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just leave me alone.”

“I can’t do that.” He stepped closer. Her desire stirred, but it pissed her off, and she retreated. He followed and kissed her lips. A moan hovered in her throat, but she swallowed it. Somehow she managed to resist and turned her head. When she raised a hand to smack his face, he caught her wrist. She tried with the other hand, and he caught that one to jerk her against him. “You’ve done enough.”

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?” She pulled on his hold. “Let me go, Creed.”

“Not until you calm down.”

“Fuck you.”

He released her wrists and grabbed her shoulders to shake her. She fought as hard as she could, thrusting at his chest, beating against it like some lame little damsel from a romance. The more she did—and failed—the more her temper soared. Only exhaustion made her stop fighting him, and she panted, arms aching at her side.

“Better?” he said, backing up.

She said nothing.

He touched her hair, and she spun away to look at the royal mess she had made of the kitchen. Still, she made no move to clean it up just yet. Her emotions were too raw.

“She’s fine, Shada,” he said. “You told me so yourself this morning.”

“I know.”

“She’s been sleeping most of the time for a few days now, and you told me today was the first time she seemed back to normal.”

“Normal.” Her laugh sounded more like a sob. “Everything you’re saying is true. Her doctor even said she’s okay, well, as much as can be expected.”

“Then you need to unwind.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

She cut her eyes over at him. “Are you telling me I need a drink?”

He didn’t answer but turned and headed down the hall to his office. She followed, and he let her in and shut the door behind them.

“Creed?”

“I don’t drink.”

“You don’t?” She frowned, trying to recall if during any of the times they had all celebrated together she had seen him with a glass of wine.

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