Page 36 of Desperate Measures

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Page 36 of Desperate Measures

Sucking in a fortifying breath, I checked over my makeup and hair. I had my thick locks pulled back in a low ponytail and applied some light powder foundation.

Allergies and the dislike of anything heavy had always made me wary of cosmetics, so my look was more natural with a little help. I brushed my eyebrows, naturally dark thanks to dear old dad’s genetics, and used an opalescent highlight stick on my eyelids and some brown mascara to darken my lashes.

I frowned as I looked down at the lipstick in my hand. I rarely wore the stuff, but why not?

Sighing, I leaned forward, looking at my reflection I opened my lips and pressed the applicator to the bottom one first.

“Stop.”

I startled at the interruption, dropping the lipstick I spun and saw Liam darkening the doorway to our bedroom.

“You scared me,” I said, clapping one hand over my pounding heart.

He moved fast, his body suddenly looming in front of mine. Before I could ask him what the hell he was doing, Liam had one hand on my neck, tipping my head back, while using two fingers on his other hand to wipe away the spot of lipstick I’d managed to get on my mouth.

“You don’t need it, Sweetheart,” he murmured, his gaze meeting mine.

I thought he was going to kiss me, but he let me go so quickly I swayed on my feet and had to steady myself with one hand on the dresser top.

“W-what are you doing here?” I asked when he turned away from me.

“I’m here to take you.”

“You’re coming with me to Dad’s office?” I gasped, surprised to say the least.

“Yeah. You ready?” he asked, leading the way.

I watched him walk in the charcoal gray suit he wore, admiration for the fine cut blossomed within me as I took in his muscular figure.

There was no denying it. Liam O’Doyle was a fine ass man.

Lucky me.

Or unlucky me, depending on how you looked at it.

I mean, Liam was definitely hot, but he hadn’t touched me since our wedding night.

I followed him to the hall that led to the front door, grabbing my soft, red leather briefcase I used for work and sliding on the matching ankle boots before I jogged the last few steps to catch up with him.

Liam made a humming noise in his throat as he looked me over. He licked his bottom lip, then held the door open for me, closing it after himself.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked, not knowing what to think.

“I’m sure, Sweetheart. Let’s go.”

Chapter 13-Liam

Jesus fucking Christ.

This woman was trying to kill me. For days, I stayed away from her. Determined to give my wife some space so she wouldn’t think me an animal.

I never got like this. I didn’t know what was fucking wrong with me. My dick thumped behind my zipper, but I made no move to adjust myself.

The elevator was close quarters as it was. So close, I left my men downstairs, so they weren’t in here with us.

I didn’t want to share the space with them. Not when Michaela was occupying it with me.

Didn’t want them to smell her lilacs. Those were mine. And I never was a good sharer.




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