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He saw the hesitation in her eyes. Saw the war between want and reason. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips.

“You promise you’ll sort the money thing out?”

He wanted to pump the air in victory. “If you kiss me, sugar, I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

Her breath left her in one long whoosh of air. “Okay,” she whispered.

It was all he needed. He threaded his hand through her hair at the back of her head, angled her mouth and sipped at her lips. If this was the only taste he’d get of Abby McKenzie, he was damn well going to make it count. The sensation of her petal-soft lips against his jolted through him. With gentle licks at her bottom lip, he teased his way into her mouth. Abby was stiff in his arms, but her shallow breaths and dark, needy eyes said something else was happening in her oh-so-intelligent mind.

“You’re delicious.” His words were a breath against her lips. “If I was a condemned man, I’d want you as my last meal. I’ve been thinking about having my mouth on you since I saw you at the funeral. It’s better than I imagined it would be.”

Her eyes went wide, the lashes so thick and long they made him weak. He groaned and pressed his lips to hers again. And then magic happened. She softened in his arms. Not by degrees, either. One minute she was tense and defensive, the next she was limp and needy. Flynn couldn’t help the tiny possessive growl that escaped when she made a little mew of surrender.

He heard the blood rush through his veins. One sensuous lick and he was addicted, flying high on pure, unadulterated Abby. She angled her head as her arms slid around his neck. Her body pressed into him, soft curves and giving flesh.

He’d known it would be like this. From the minute their eyes had met in his uncle’s dining room and the air turned static. And every time since when the heat in Abby’s eyes betrayed an attraction she thought was hidden behind cold words and proper behaviour. It was never hidden. He knew she wanted him. Because he’d felt the same undeniable need to touch her too.

“That’s telling him, Abby,” a voice shouted, breaking through his daze.

Abby froze in his arms. Her body rigid. Her lips stiff against his.

“Aye, he’ll never give Katy money again,” someone else called. “You’ve taught that boy a lesson.”

“Ah, hell,” Flynn murmured against her mouth before he heaved a sigh of resignation.

His hold loosened and Abby was out of it in a split second. She stared at him, her breath ragged, her chest flushed, her eyes glistening with desire and shock. Flynn leaned back onto his elbows and forced a laidback smile when he felt wound tight enough to snap. He clenched his fists to stop from reaching for her. To stop himself pulling her back into his lap.

“Now aren’t you glad you said yes?” he drawled.

She made a sound, part scream, part groan, then spun on her sexy heels and stormed back towards her house. Flynn grinned after her as he watched her hips sway.

“Don’t get too smug over there,” someone called from Abby’s house.

He followed the voice and shook his head. His aunty Heather was standing on Abby’s front steps, along with half the Knit or Die women.

“I’m telling your mum on you,” Heather shouted.

Flynn groaned and flopped back onto the lounge chair. He was six months away from turning thirty and people were telling tales to his mother. He was in the middle of asking himself why he’d returned to Invertary when he heard the weasel ask his camera guy if they got the whole thing on tape.

Damn. Not again.

5

"Our team was on the edge of a cliff, but we managed to get our act together and take a step forward.”

Joao Pinto, former player for Portugal’s national soccer team

“Are you angry with me for taking money from Mr Boyle?” Katy asked over lunch the following day. “I didn’t mean to take his money. He made me do it.”

Abby smiled at her daughter. She was surprised Katy had taken so long to ask about the money incident. But then they’d been busy all morning as Abby got things ready for her new business and Katy painted her toenails in various glitter colours.

“No, I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with Mr Boyle. He shouldn’t give children money without making sure it’s okay with their parents. He should have talked to me first.”

Abby dished up vegetable soup and homemade bread, placing the bowl in front of Katy. She went back to the kitchen counter to get her own meal.

“If you’re angry with him, why did you kiss him?”

Abby stilled as she poured tea into her cup from the china pot. “You were watching from your bedroom window?”

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