Hard Liquor: Runaway Billionaires: Arthur Duet #2 by Blair Babylon

Author:Blair Babylon [Babylon, Blair]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Malachite Publishing LLC
Published: 2017-05-15T18:30:00+00:00

The Lump That Is Ms. Ward

GEN slept in Arthur’s bed that night with him curled around her. Every time she woke a little, one of his arms or legs was strewn across her.

To get away, she probably would have had to use a safe word.

They were still both nude in the sheets. He had washed her in the shower the night before like a passive little doll, toweled her dry, and carried her naked to bed.

She cuddled down in the sheets and comforters. When she thought about the bed—the massive pillars and looming canopy above her—she held onto Arthur until the shaking stopped. His arms tightened around her whenever she moved in the slightest, cradling her.

By morning, the bed didn’t seem so scary anymore. It felt like a very wide couch.

Later that morning, the bedroom doors blew open. Sunlight poured in from the hallway.

Gen started scrambling, gathering the sheets and comforter to cover her naked butt.

Casimir and Maxence strode in.

She flipped the comforter entirely over her head.

Through the covers, she heard Casimir bellow, “What the hell is wrong with you, Arthur?”

Maxence yelled, “Stand and deliver, Earl of Givesnofucks.”

Light filtered through the white cloth and feathers over Gen’s head. The fluffy white comforter muffled their voices somewhat, and warmth from Arthur’s body drifted around her.

Arthur struggled to sit up beside her, his bare legs flailing under the down comforter.

Gen burrowed farther under the covers, trying to make herself look like a lump of sheets.

Somewhere outside the comforter, Arthur said, “What the devil are you two doing here?”

Casimir said, “Evidently, you’re in a bit of a mess, worse than we had known.”

Some bustling and thumping, and Mr. Fothergill, the upright and starched butler, said, “I say, there! Lord Severn, I tried to tell them that you were not yet available, but they barged upstairs.”

Wait, Fothergill should be at the London penthouse. He shouldn’t be out in the country at Spencer House.

Arthur said, “That’s all right, Mr. Fothergill. I’d like to know what they’re doing in England at all.”

A pause.

Casimir’s voice said, “I do hope that lump beside you is Ms. Ward.”

Arthur poked Gen in the ribs, right where he knew she was ticklish.

She contorted, trying not to laugh.

It didn’t work, and she let out a peal of giggles.

She clapped her hand over her mouth.

Arthur tickled her again.

“Stop it!” she whispered through the giggles.

Above the comforter, Arthur said, “It appears to be Ms. Ward.”

“Smashing,” Casimir said, his tone as dry as old wood. “Perhaps she should tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Arthur asked and poked her again.

She wiggled away from him, giggling. “Stop it!”

Arthur asked, “Did you call them?”

Gen swam to the top of the bed and poked her face out from under the comforter. She asked Arthur, “Can I talk to you privately?”

“Of course. Mr. Fothergill, it doesn’t matter why they’re here. They’ll need rooms for tonight, possibly longer. Wait.” He rolled his eyes. “Tomorrow is Wednesday. We’ll need to return to London tonight.”

Casimir and Maxence exchanged glances.

Mr. Fothergill asked Arthur, “Shall I have breakfast sent up?” He glanced at Gen as she peered up at him through her bedraggled hair.

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