Page 38 of Mr. Risky

“Yeah, why would I want that bitch having my baby?”

“Well, why didn’t you give me birth control?” I demanded, trying to ignore the fact that my breasts had felt really full and swollen the last few days, almost achy.

But my period was due. That must be all it was.

“Because I want to get you pregnant.”

“I don’t understand,” I said flatly. “You want your forced mistress to get pregnant? But not your wife?”

“Correct.”

“Why?”

“You want me to blow smoke up your asshole, sweetheart? Want me to play sweet to you? I don’t know why I want you. Maybe I have a thing for redheads. Maybe it’s your tits. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re a brat. Whatever it is, it’s always been you. Knew it as soon as I saw you.”

“But you’re still fucking your wife?”

“That’s right, songbird. And I’ll be doing that until I find it.”

“What is it?”

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll tell you.”

“Hayden is suspicious of you,” I said flatly. “He thinks you’re up to something. What are you up to, Granger?”

He only grinned.

“How about you get dressed?”

Then he raised my chin for a kiss, one arm pressing me tight against his body.

“Don’t fucking kiss me when I don’t know where your nasty mouth has been.”

“All part of the job, baby.”

“What if someone had seen us?” I cried.

But he just shrugged.

“I’ve been looking for this damn thing for two years now. Maybe you’re my good luck charm that’ll help me find it.”

“What damn thing? You’re driving me crazy, Granger! What are you trying to find? You have to tell me!”

“The limit to how much you’re testing my patience” was all he said. “And don’t you dare let me see you out there in green.”

One big hand landed with a stinging blow on my ass. “You won’t be sitting down for a week if you do.”

“Bastard!” I hissed, throwing my high heel after him, but he was already gone.

Minutes after he left, I could still feel eyes on me, so intense that I whirled around, scanning the wood panels, pulling apart the rows of Siren dresses neatly hung up in the changing room.

“Hello?” I called out. “Is anyone there?”

But there was no response.

Chapter Eleven

The performance that afternoon was so windy that my skirt was wet almost to the knees with the spray from the waves.