Her Forbidden Crush: Sexy New Zealand Romance Novella by Ash Harlow

Author:Ash Harlow [Harlow, Ash]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AH Publishing
Published: 2016-11-27T18:30:00+00:00

8

Rebecca

I’ve got five minutes before everyone arrives for the dinner party. I’m trying to keep my mood up because I’d rather be visiting Vince than having to endure Jed Harris’s wandering hands and expectant glances. Tomorrow is the final day for the shear. The weather has blessed us by not raining, and the shearers have done a quick and efficient job. I spent way too much time today in the shearing shed, pretending that I wanted to learn every facet of the shear, when in fact I’ve been hanging out in the shed at shearing time since I could walk. Beyond actually picking up a hand-piece and grappling with a sheep, there isn’t a lot for me to learn.

I couldn’t stop watching Vince as he sheared. If half the women in the country knew Vincent Hudson was on a stand in our shed, I could probably have put in seating and sold tickets, raised money for charity. God, I’m slow at times. Entrepreneur, my ass. Truth is, I didn’t want anyone here watching him beyond me and the girls in the shearing gang.

It fascinated me, the way his hands soothed the struggling sheep into calm submission, hands that have brought me such pleasure. When his brow beaded with sweat, I wanted to lick it off. Watching him bent over, with his fine ass on display underneath his well-cut jeans made me want to sink my teeth into the curve of his buttocks.

What I’m trying not to dwell on is that once the shearing is finished, Vince and the gang will be gone. The gang is heading over to Lindisburn Station to do the Harris’s shear, and Vince is going to Wellington to prepare for the television commercial he’s going to shoot. We haven’t spoken about our future, and I’m afraid that once he gets to the city and his other work I’ll soon exist in his life only as a memory. I can’t spend another moment wishing that Vince was a Harris and he was the one Dad and Tom Harris were plotting for me to marry, because it’s a pointless waste of time.

I can see the lights of a car coming up the driveway and know that I have to be downstairs to greet the guests or my father and Elizabeth will be sending daggers my way all night. Elizabeth’s already been asking me where I’ve been these past evenings, and although I’ve told her I was visiting friends in town, her constant questioning suggests she doesn’t believe me for a minute.

I check my mirror one last time to be sure the high neck on the dress I wear covers the deep bruise Vince made when he bit me. I touch it, push at the contusion to make it ache, and my pussy throbs and thickens when I think about what we were doing when he marked me.

I make it to the formal lounge just as the doorbell rings. Elizabeth passes me on her way to meet the guests. She’s wearing a scowl and a completely inappropriate evening dress.

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