Revenge and Redemption by Jennie Kew

Author:Jennie Kew [Kew, Jennie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780648209423
Publisher: Wooden Key Press

Chapter Eleven

Claire awoke to the sound of someone knocking on her front door and an annoying buzzing sound that wouldn’t shut up. As wakefulness forced her eyelids to open, she realised the buzzing was her alarm clock and the knocking was probably Luke.

Dragging herself into a seated position she glanced at her clock and swore. She hadn’t just slept in. She’d over-slept. Stumbling from bed, she grabbed her dressing gown, hastily dragged it on over her pyjamas then hurried to answer the door.

Luke stood on her doorstep in blue jeans, a black T-shirt and aviators, which he peeled off his face with a flourish as he greeted her. “Good morning, sweet—Jesus, what the hell happened to you?”

Instead of responding with something appropriately snarky, Claire flipped him off then stomped back down the hallway. The sound of Luke’s sexy chuckle followed her all the way to the kitchen.

“You’re early,” she grumbled, scrounging through the fridge for something edible.

She felt him standing behind her. “And a good thing too by the looks of it. Good sleep in, was it?” The humour in his voice grated on her already frazzled nerves.

“It would have been if I’d woken up when my stupid alarm went off, but I didn’t and now I’m running late.” She spat the words out without stopping for breath and started pulling random ingredients out of the fridge.

Luke’s strong arms came around her middle and he pulled her backwards against his chest. “Breath, Claire. Just breathe.”

Closing her eyes, Claire sucked down a deep lungful of air then slowly let it out.

“Another one,” Luke said, his deep voice a soothing caress across her anxious mind.

She took another breath.

“Better?” he asked.

She nodded and blinked her eyes open again. She did feel better, although she suspected it had more to do with the man standing behind her than the breathing exercise.

Her libido agreed.

It took every ounce of strength Claire owned not to say, “Fuck work,” and melt against him. His body heat emanated through her thin dressing gown and made her feel like snuggling by a fire with a hot cup of tea. Or maybe just crawling back into bed with a good book and a naked Luke.

Strong hands turned her to face him then cupped her cheeks. “You are going to have your shower and get dressed and anything else you need to do to get ready, and I will cook you breakfast. Okay?”

Claire knew words were coming out of his mouth and knew they probably made a lot of sense—Luke was nothing if not practical—but she didn’t comprehend a single thing he’d said because he was staring down at her with those golden eyes and talking to her in that deep baritone voice and touching her with his sexy man-hands. She leaned into his caress, rubbed her cheek against his palm.

“Claire? Okay?”

“Hmm…? What?”

Luke chuckled again. “You shower. Me cook. Okay?”

Oh, yeah. That made sense. “Okay.”

She didn’t even try to stifle her yawn as she left him in the kitchen muttering something about his jeans suddenly being too tight.

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