Claiming His Grace by Ellis Leigh

Author:Ellis Leigh [Leigh, Ellis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781954702042
Publisher: Kinship Press

Nine

Avory

Once Livia was in bed, I took my book and headed into the hallway to wait for Beadan. He’d told me he’d show up, so I had no doubt that he’d follow through. Okay, maybe a little doubt. Not because of him but because other people in my life would have failed to deliver on their promise.

I should have known not to let even the memory of doubt shadow the man in question.

“You good?” Beadan asked as he jogged around the corner. “Livia okay?”

I nodded, holding up my book. “She’s asleep, and I’m reading. Are you okay?”

Because he definitely didn’t look okay. In fact, he looked nearly panicked. He recovered well, though.

“I’m fine. I was just worried about you two.” He slid down the wall to sit beside me, tugging me closer as he did. “How’s the book?”

“I’d rather hear about how the meeting went with Mick.”

“And I’d rather talk about the book.” Beadan stared down at me, his face softening as he apparently realized I wasn’t kidding. “It was fine. He wanted to know if I’d heard from anyone at the southern Pack House.”

“There are other Pack Houses?”

He shrugged. “There were. The southern one burned down—that’s how I ended up here. I’ve heard about two more, but I can’t say for sure where they are or if they even exist. Mick wanted to know about the southern one. I didn’t have whatever info he needed, so it was a short conversation that lasted way too long.”

That seemed…contradictory, but I wasn’t going to question him. Instead, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Well, I’m really glad you’re here now.”

“Me too.” He sighed, resting his forehead on mine. “Read, beautiful. I need to know you’re calm and relaxed.”

Such a sweet man. I cuddled into his side and held up my book, falling back into the imaginary world within. Beadan sat quietly, running his fingers over my hair. Seemingly just fine with me giving most of my attention to the book in my hand instead of him.

But I was still reading my romance novel. I had just reached a scene of physical intimacy, had begun devouring the words and reading faster as I gleefully read about a hero settling himself in between a heroine’s legs for what he described as a feast, when the picture I’d developed in my head of the two characters changed. No longer was the hero a tall, muscular man with more of a swimmer’s body and light, unruly hair. He became a behemoth of a man with dark hair and eyes who looked as if he could move mountains. He became Beadan. Which meant the heroine looked exactly like—

“Avory?” Beadan frowned down at me, his fingers still running through my hair. “Are you okay?”

Was I? Suddenly, all the moments leading up to the chapter I was on shifted in my mind from hero and heroine to Beadan and me. What would it feel like to have those huge hands on my body? To be thrown

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