Hitched!. B.J. Daniels

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Hitched! - B.J.  Daniels


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shook his head. He’d played hero and sold himself on the idea of a wife for this visit with his grandmother, and now he worried he’d bought himself more than he could handle as he looked at her.

      Her face was flushed from her bath, the scent of lilac wafting through the large bedroom. The Western shirt she’d chosen was a pale green check that was perfect for her coloring and went well with the scarf that she’d tied around her neck. The two scarves had been her idea.

      She looked sweet enough to eat and smelled heavenly. It was going to be hell being around her 24/7 without wanting more than a pretend marriage.

      Worse, their charade required a modicum of intimacy with her. As he led her down to dinner, he put his hand against the flat of her back and felt the heat of her skin through the thin cotton of her shirt. The touch burned him like a brand.

      She looked over at him. Her smile said she knew what he was up to. He smiled back. She had no idea.

      “Finally,” said a woman impatiently from the parlor where they’d been shown in earlier.

      Jack looked in to see his aunt Virginia, a glass of wine in her hand and a frown on her less than comely face. The years hadn’t been kind to her. The alcohol she’d apparently already consumed added to her overall disheveled look.

      Her lipstick was smeared, her linen dress was wrinkled from where she’d been perched on the arm of one of the leather chairs and there was a run in her stockings.

      “We eat at seven sharp,” she snapped, and pointed to the clock on the wall, which read several minutes after.

      Josey started to apologize, since it was her fault for staying in the tub so long, but the other woman in the room cut her off.

      “You remember Virginia,” Pepper Winchester said drily.

      “Of course, Virginia,” Jack said, extending his hand.

      His aunt gave him the weakest of handshakes. “Mother says you’re Angus’s son?” Like his grandmother, Virginia had also missed her brother’s funeral. Nothing like a close-knit family, Jack thought.

      Virginia was studying him as if under a microscope. Her sour expression said she saw no Winchester resemblance. “The nanny’s child.” She crinkled her nose in distaste. “Dear Angus,” she said, as if that explained it.

      Jack tried not to take offense, but it was hard given the reception he and his pretend wife were getting here. He reminded himself that this wasn’t a social visit. Once he got what he’d come for, he would never see any of them again.

      “This is my wife, Josey,” he said, glad as hell he hadn’t come here alone. All his misgivings earlier about bringing her were forgotten as he slipped his arm around her slim waist and pulled her close.

      JOSEY FELT JACK’S ARM tighten around her as Virginia gave her a barely perceptible handshake.

      It was hard not to see the resemblance between mother and daughter, Josey thought. Both women were tall, dark-haired and wore their bitterness on their faces. Virginia was broader, more matronly and perhaps more embittered as she narrowed her gaze at Josey, measuring her for a moment before dismissing her entirely.

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