The Kelpie's Redemption by Alexa Gregory

Author:Alexa Gregory [Gregory, Alexa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MTW Press
Published: 2019-10-24T16:00:00+00:00

10

-Sorcha-

I've been to prison. And not modern-day prison where inmates have rights and eat better than the country's homeless.

No. I'm talking about rank, disease-ridden prison during the eighteenth century. We were twenty to a four-by-four cell. The chamber pot was an overflowing hole in the ground. If the disease didn't kill you, the murderous men who slept next to you would.

That entire ordeal was better than this.

Sharing a small cabin with Agent Fitzroy Yarrow is pure torture and it may kill me.

When he decided to move in last night, I did everything in my power to dissuade him. It couldn't be done. He's as stubborn as he is desirable.

The damnable man wears sweatpants low on his narrow hips and refuses to don a shirt. His muscled chest, swoon-worthy six-pack, and brawny arms are constantly on display. I have to avert my eyes lest my woman parts catch fire.

Truly, I never felt such lust. Not for Conrad who I believed to be the great love of my life. Fitz's presence makes my life infinitely more difficult. How am I supposed to berate myself for the evil things that I have done if I am constantly distracted by him?

"Morning, roomie," he says in a sleepy voice.

I have to remember to keep my mouth closed as I watch him run his hands through his sleep-tousled hair.

"Good morning, Agent Yarrow."

Fitz snickers at me, rubbing a hand on his toned stomach. Oh by the goddess. To be that hand...

"You gotta call me Fitz. Do we have any food? I'm starving."

"I think it's best if we remain professional. And there's cereal in the pantry."

I keep my eyes busy as I make a large pot of coffee. I need it. I wasn't able to get any sleep. I knew that on the other side of the thin cabin wall, Fitz was sleeping. I could hear his soft snores and it was flustering.

A person's sleep sounds are a very intimate thing to hear. Or so it seemed to me last night. A man's loud breathing shouldn't be erotic, yet there I was, imagining how his breathing could be a different kind of labored and loud.

That can't ever be, though. For obvious reasons. My hormones just don't seem to grasp that. Deciding I need a treat, I rummage through the freezer for a tub of extremely chocolatey ice cream. I sit at the kitchen table, spoon dug into the silky brown goodness.

"What are you doing?" Fitz asks, jaw dropped.

"I'm eating breakfast," I answer, taking a mouthful of ice cream.

"You can't eat ice cream for breakfast."

"Sure, I can. It's frozen milk with chocolate bits for protein. It's basically cereal."

"Huh." Fitz grabs the ice cream carton from my hand and scoops a spoonful into his mouth.

"Hey!" I protest. "That's mine." I nearly climb onto the table to get to the stolen goods.

"You have to share," he points out, taking another large bite of my breakfast.

"No, I really don't. Soon I'll be in prison and I won't have any ice cream. I have to stock up on the memories now.

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