In Brady’s Arms Sweet McKenna Book 2 by
Forced to run from the only home she knows, beautiful, headstrong Lillian Townsends seeks shelter in the wild highlands where the McKenna clan live. Trying to avoid a betrothal contract signed by her stepfather to an aging lord, she is desperate to find a means to sidestep the inevitable, including a marriage to the oldest son of the laird. Lilly is enamored of the young lord who pursues her with unrelenting determination flashing his devilishly handsome charms. She is hard pressed to resist.
Besotted from the first moment Brady McKenna sees Lilly, he is determined to find a means to coax her into his arms and bed. With only the promise of carnal pleasure as his mistress, Brady relentlessly pursues the woman who has unwittingly forged a place in his heart. She is like no other woman, proud, defiant and enchanting. Despite his father’s advice to stay away from her, he cannot. He boldly seeks her out and makes her his own.
“Is there something wrong with the food?”
The sweet sultry voice next to him shook him out of his melancholy musings. He looked up into the soft blue eyes he noticed earlier. Felt his body become fully aroused. He shifted in his chair as he tried to hide the evidence she caused. She smelled of vanilla. He reached up and swiped away the flour on her nose.
She inhaled a sharp breath, stepping back so quickly she lost her balance for a moment. Brady reached out, stopping her fall. “My apologies. I only meant to rid your nose of the flour left from your baking today. It’s charming,” he said with mocking disdain, still wondering about her as well as her intentions. “You don’t ken much about cooking, do you? Perhaps you’re better suited for cleaning.”
Lillian touched her nose, staring at him as if she thought he’d lost his mind. She was a skittish little thing, almost as if she wasn’t used to men. He decided she was a good little actress. She had the emotions correct right down to the hand at her throat and the widening of her eyes, a deceitful little thing. Amused, he slanted her a mocking grin. Unraveling her would be interesting. “You had no right to touch me,” she blurted suddenly, her eyes fixed on Roby as if she couldn’t bear to look at him or she saw something she disliked.
“I was just trying to help,” he growled, no longer amused.
His gaze riveted on his brother who was grinning, clearly enjoying this encounter along with the woman’s attention on him. His brother knew how he felt about the girl. Was using this opportunity to mock him. “I beg of you, don’t help again. I’m quite capable of getting the flour dust off my own nose.”
She stuck her chin in the air, her nose higher. The regal tilt, the stiffness of her shoulders spoke of nobility.
Not a common serving wench. His thoughts returned to the silks and satins he saw in the trunk. The voluptuous pillows on the large bed, it was a bed designed for two. Another piece of the puzzle that was Lillian Townsend he meant to vanquish.
She cleared her throat, looked at him with an imperious glare in those soft blue eyes, repeating her earlier question. “Is there anything I can get for you, sir?” she stood back, waiting. Her toe was tapping impatiently.
He reached out, confronting her earlier statement that he had no right to touch her as he placed his hand around her wrist, closing tightly, tugging her closer.
“I want you,” he said, his voice assuming a husky gentle timber.
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