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She was this creature fashioned from silk and lace and ambition. A lady whose determination bolstered a soaring intellect, like a flying buttress supporting the spires of a cathedral.
He was a man who swung a hammer.
They were from disparate worlds. Kissing was off limits. Anything beyond kissing was never even to be imagined.
He’d given her the hammer as a way for her to vent some frustration.
And then she’d kissed him. Her kiss had been surprising, inexpert, and electrifying.
All it had taken was one application of her soft pink lips and she’d obliterated his restraint.
He swung the hammer so hard that plaster flew against the far wall.
She was a highborn lady, sister to a duke.
A duke whose good opinion and trust he required. Giving in to the desire to kiss her back had been wrong. And bad.
Bad and wrong and... glorious.
He dismantled the wall blow by blow, stopping only to wipe dust out of his eyes. When it was finished, he scrubbed his fist across his brow.
Stick to the plan. It was simple enough. He fixed up her property and left England on his new ship, knowing that he’d not only obstructed his grandfather’s plans, but had made enough money to purchase a plot of land in the process.
When she got under his skin, he’d have to work harder to keep her out. And if she ever kissed him again, he’d remember all of the reasons why intimacy with the duke’s sister was forbidden.
No more untying of ribbons and removing of bonnets.
No more holding of sledgehammers.
He’d like to show her how to hold other hard, solid things.
Mother of God . . . he needed a drink. The wall was gone, only jagged edges remained, rather like his state of mind.
He’d accomplished enough for the day. It would be best if he were gone when she came back downstairs.
“I could use a pint. Or three.” Ford settled onto a stool next to Griff at the Captain’s Choice pub near the docks.
Griff caught the barmaid’s eye and gestured toward Ford with his head. “Not going so well with your new employer? Should have stuck with me, lad. I may not be pretty, but I’m far less complicated and less likely to work you into knots.”
There would be less peril involved in working for his old friend. They’d work hard until the task was complete, and then go out drinking.
End of story.
“I taught Beatrice how to use a sledgehammer today.”
Griff nearly snorted ale through his nose. He wiped away the foam coating his bristly white whiskers. “Did you now? And did she enjoy holding your hammer?”
“Notthatkind of hammer.”
“What happened to the lady?”
“She smashed some plaster.”
“No, I mean what happened toLadyBeatrice. Holding your hammer made her your special friend?”
Ford gulped his ale. Griff didn’t miss a trick. “Not exactly.”
They’d shared only one very long and scorching hot kiss.
