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But had I really come this far for this? The Queen had been kind to offer me this caretaking job. Here I’d been foolish enough to believe caretaking at Hopewell Cottage would be straightforward.

Clean up the house, make it a home, and make sure my son doesn’t hurt himself were her exact words.

Fresh tears brimmed at my eyelids as I turned the bend in the lane and the clubhouse finally came into view. Romantic yellow lights strung along white tents along the edges of the treeline. Classy music played in the air as quiet conversation and the soft hum of laughter landed on my ears.

“Where are you, Keir?” I said to no one but myself.

I dropped my dress to the ground, wiping at my cheeks and praying the stupid mascara that’d I’d stroked onto my lashes at the last minute hadn’t streamed down my cheeks from the rain and the crying.

I hadn’t even seen Keir all day.

That wasn’t the odd part, he made a habit of leaving with the dawn and coming home well after dusk with the smell of horse and hard cider on him. I was always tucked in bed when he stumbled in. I couldn't sleep until I heard him flop on the couch, the soft sounds of his snores like music to my ears.

I felt like I’d been doing a horrible job of taking care of him. What the Queen expected me to do exactly, I wasn’t sure, but it did not feel like this was on her list.

Frankly, it was everything I could do to stand in the room with Keir. I was so turned on by him, so angered by the words that came out of his mouth, so worried that this would be the day that he’d pass out in a ditch walking home from the club or something far worse—being his caretaker left me confused and chaotic and feeling like a failure all at the same time. The Queen’s money weighed over me like a guilty cloud, so I’d taken to walking to the market every day and buying the best organic food I could find to take care of Keir from the inside out.

Maybe he would come around and stop running from me.

Or maybe not.

The Queen had begged me to hang in with the job for at least ninety days, and she reassured me she would renew the arrangement if I found it suitable. She prayed I would find it suitable. Her letter explained that her family couldn't suffer another scandal, but that her son was in desperate need of professional intervention.

Apparently I was that intervention.

I had no expertise, only a willingness to learn and a giant bleeding heart for broken things. Thankfully, Keir wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared. He was so much worse.

Worse on my heart.

I approached what looked like the main tent. A temporary bar and black tie bartenders handed out drinks to elegant patrons and women dressed in demure formalwear.

My cheeks burned with flames instantly.

This dress that Keir had arranged for me to wear had a slit up to my thigh and was so tight my breasts practically fell out of the flimsy fabric. This dress left hardly anything to the imagination, and I’d been stupid enough to think I wouldn’t stand out at an event like this.

My hate for Keir Madsen flamed.

I paused at a banner that read Royal Midsummer Ball, yanking one of the heels off of my feet and flinging the mud that clung to the razor-sharp heel. “Stupid shoes.”

“Everything okay, Anna?” Keir appeared over my shoulder. I could tell he was drunk, his eyes swam and his smile was uncharacteristically warm.

“Yep. Great,” I said as the classical music and my own heartbeat pounded in my ears.

His eyebrow lifted in doubt as if he didn't believe me. I shut my eyes and willed the image of him, all sexy and stunning in black-tie formal from my brain.

A waiter passed me and I swiped a fluted glass. I chugged and then placed the empty champagne glass on his tray. “I'm going to dance.”

Keir raised an interested eyebrow. With the alcohol in my veins, I was suddenly overheated. I moved deeper into the crowd, to the temporary dance floor that’d been set up. A few dozen people danced and I was able to lose myself in the crowd easily.

But still I felt his eyes on me.

My hips swayed when a new song began and I felt hands slip around my waist. I tensed, then settled into the embrace for a minute before I realized what I was doing. Turning my head to the side, I caught tousled golden hair and a charming rogue grin. My heart thudded as Keir ran his nose up my neck, sending tingles exploding through my body. His breath tickled the shell of my ear and I sucked in a quick breath. Thoughts swirled like my desire.


Tags: Aria Cole, Mila Crawford Erotic