Read Love Is Nuts (3 Tales) for Free Online

charm the pants off her. Literally. But not now, not like this. The innocent angel was even more innocent than he’d thought. And he wasn’t that much of a devil. He did have a little bit of conscience, a few romantic notions of his own. A girl’s first time with a man ought to be something special, something she’d never forget. But with the state Sophia was in, he’d be lucky if she even remembered his name in the morning.
    There was nothing to do but let her sleep it off and try again tomorrow. This wasn’t defeat, just delay. He still wanted to marry her – now more than ever. It wasn’t often you got a chance at a beautiful mother lode who’d never been mined. Tomorrow he’d tunnel in deep and strike gold.
    Tonight he’d take a cold shower.
    Sophia laid her head on his shoulder and started playing with his tie, hooking fingers over the knot and inching it downward, loosening it…
    Make that a real cold shower. Real soon.
    “Do you believe in love at first sight?” she murmured.
    No, actually, and he doubted she did either; she was in no shape to know what she was saying. Byron didn’t believe in love much at all. Love was a fairytale illusion, and he’d lost his illusions early in life.
    Lust was another matter. Lust was a heat wave rising around them. Lust sizzled the air and made his voice raspy.
    “Sophia, I think you need to go to bed.” Before he ravished her right here in the hallway.
    “Finally! I thought you’d never ask!”
    With startling strength and agility, she tightened her grip on his tie and pulled him to the door of his room.
    “Where’s your key? Here?” She dug a hand into his pants’ pocket.
    Groan. Did she have any idea what that pocket was next to? Through thin fabric, her fingers grazed a growing bulge. An electric charge shot through him.
    “There’s something in here. My, what a big key you have.” She giggled like Little Red Riding Hood.
    And she was turning him into a big bad wolf.
    Byron yanked his besieged willpower up by its bootstraps.
    “Sophia, stop that. We can’t—”
    “Of course we can.” Her hand reappeared clutching the room key like a trophy. Quickly, she unlocked the door and pushed it open, still hanging on to his tie with her other hand. A sharp tug jerked him over the threshold, and the door slammed shut. “Oh, look, a heart-shaped bed!”
    In rapid order, she hauled him toward it, spun him about, and shoved against his chest. He toppled backward onto satin sheets. Sophia landed on top, straddling him.
    When had he lost control of the situation?
    And did he really want to get it back?
    “You may seduce me now,” she said with theatrical primness.
    Then promptly passed out.
    Merde.
    Gently, he rolled her off himself onto her back, and propped up on an elbow, staring down at her. Not Little Red Riding Hood after all, but Sleeping Beauty.
    Could he wake her with a kiss?
    Did he dare try?
    God knew he wanted to. He’d never wanted anything so badly, so much. In all his past struggles, years of hunger and fighting for scraps, he’d never been this hungry, never felt such a blistering need. He’d wanted her at first sight, and the desire had been building like a volcano ever since. He was ready to erupt.
    He just couldn’t figure why.
    It wasn’t her money. Well, it had been, but only until he’d actually met her. After that, something else became the prime attraction. Beauty? No, that couldn’t be it either. He’d had gorgeous girls before – sunnyside-up and over-easy – but none so intriguing as Sophia. A bewitching enigma. A wanton angel. Sweet heat.
    She did look like a fairytale princess lying there, and that might be the problem.
    Blame his mother. When food was scarce and the house dark and cold because the power had been cut off again, she’d bundle him onto her lap and spin magical yarns, filling his mind and soul if she couldn’t fill his belly. She’d died of pneumonia when he was still a kid; died of poverty, really. Byron