Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Going on instinct, I strip down. Body heat.
I’ll give her my body heat.
You’ll give her everything, whispers a voice in the back of my head.
It alarms me.
What the hell is happening here? What changes are taking place inside of me?
In the space of five minutes, I’ve gone from calm and collected to a savage protector. So be it, though. I can’t do anything but obey the orders of my body, my…heart.
Wearing nothing but my briefs now, I’m on my way to climbing into bed with the girl when there is a hesitant knock on the door. “Sir?”
It’s Ben.
“What?” I snap. “Did you call the doctor? She is frozen solid.”
“I did, sir. He will be here as soon as possible. But there is something important I feel I must speak to you about.”
“Fuck,” I grit through my teeth. Of course, I want to ignore Ben and warm the girl, but he wouldn’t be interrupting me if the news wasn’t extremely important. It’s not his way. Maybe this thing he needs to tell me will give me some clue to her identity.
Her life before she met me.
There is only after now.
“What is it?” I ask, ripping open the door.
My assistant is momentarily taken aback by my lack of clothing, but he recovers quickly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but the women downstairs have passed on some delicate information about our unexpected guest.” He nods toward the slight form buried beneath my comforter. “Her name is Blessing Wakefield. The women claim she is a thief who steals from the church. They say she is a liar, an opportunist and…”
“And what?”
“They tell me it can’t possibly be a coincidence that she showed up on the same night you were looking for a bride.”
When those words finally penetrate, my first instinct is to deny them. Bullshit this girl is a liar or an opportunist. One glance at her and I knew she was the purest angel.
Unless…
Am I being duped? For the first time in my life?
I’ve never experienced this chaos in my chest before. Is it the work of a con woman?
I’ve never seen her in town before, yet she shows up on my doorstep while I am in the process of selecting a bride. Moving from the streets to the biggest house in town would be a trade up for her. A trade up for anyone. Am I being played for a fool?
“There’s only one way to find out,” I mutter, kicking the door shut.
Chapter Two
Blessing
Open your eyes. You have to get up.
I left the children at the orphanage without anything to eat, save a few scraps of week-old bread. My plan was to beg as long as possible, until I had enough to fill their bellies through Christmas, but I wasn’t expecting the temperature drop. One of the youngest kids is using my coat as a blanket, so I couldn’t bring it with me and…
Where am I?
All I remember is passing the huge estate on the edge of town, the interior lit up in a beautiful glow. I saw a man inside—a hard, mean man—but something told me he could help. The last thing I remember is him opening the door and shouting. My money…I must make sure no one takes the money. I have no other way to buy food.
I start to rouse myself, but the warmth of the bedding makes my movements lethargic. It has been so long since I was this warm. This comfortable. Lordy, these sheets must be woven from the finest of cotton. It’s glorious against my skin and I can’t help but moan.
“The angel wakes,” says a deep yet dry voice somewhere in the room.
Briefly, some cool air meets my exposed thighs and then I’m warm again.
Much warmer.
Because I’m being hauled up against a body.
A male body.
My brain is urging me to fight off the uninvited attention—where am I? Who is this?—but then I’m pressed up against the heat of his chest and I whimper, burrowing closer. I was wrong before. This is the warmest I’ve been in a long time. He produces heat like an oven and my chilled bones rejoice the closer I get to him.
“Would you like me to get on top of you?” murmurs the deep, unknown voice.
Maybe I’m dreaming.
Yes, I must be.
There are some very kind people in this town who donate regularly to the orphanage, but none of them would bring me into their beds like this. Maybe I’m in the final stages of hypothermia, delirious and sinking into oblivion. If so, I must fight against it. There is no one else to care for the kids. Only me. The money I spilled…I need to retrieve it. I need to reach the market before it closes for the night or they’ll go hungry again.
“Please, I have to get up…” I slur, my limbs refusing to cooperate.