Her pride had once been a mile wide. So fierce and strong that she'd thought she could survive on the trait alone. The constant ache in her belly, the desperation, Kenny's fate...all had shown her otherwise.
Anne MalloryHe had little respect for anyone who was not willing to put in the effort required to survive and thrive. Not everyone needed the same driving ambition that had fueled him. That had led him to being possibly the richest man in London without a title in his lineage -- all earned in under a decade. That had given him the power to change lives. But a person needed to have the drive to change his own life.
Anne MalloryTags: ambition survival respect drive
She waited until Jeremy's footsteps receded. "I didn't know you had a brother."
"Now you do." He continued writing.
"Do you have any other siblings?"
"No."
"Parents?"
"I didn't crawl out of Hell, if that's what you are asking.
Her jaw dropped. "You - you -"
He chuckled and winked at her. Her ire evaporated like the steam from the pot--coiling and disappearing into the air. When he used his wiles on her, he was tantalizing. With that purely happy look on his face he was devastating.
"You do realize that I will have my revenge?" she said calmly, though her heart was racing.
"I could hope for no less." He flashed her a grin, and she gripped the side of the table to keep from moving closer.
"I dislike you."
"Always a comfort to know." He looked at the kitchen clock, a small mantel piece positioned precariously on a shelf. "Right on time for the night."
She blinked. She supposed it was something of a nightly ritual. "Wouldn't want to disappoint you, your highness."
"Your majesty, if you will.
Gabriel didn't need to look back. To see. He trusted his friend. He smiled grimly. And wasn't that the crux?
Anne MalloryMarietta is good for you, Gabriel. I quite like her. Don't be a fool and let her go."
"I can do nothing but let her go, John. Sometimes love can only be given by setting someone free.
Change was Fate' the Romans said. well, Andreas loathed Fate, That Bitch.
Anne MallorySome people get dealt all the aces in life.
Anne MalloryOh!” This was said brightly, as if she was happy he had noticed. “I decided I needed my own workspace, instead of constantly infringing upon yours. So I had a few of the boys move a desk in here.”
He stared at the petite, feminine, desk that was pushed against his. And wondered how the bloody hell she had managed to convince men who were terrified of him to move the desk inside his domain.
“Absolutely not.”
***
Two hours later, he was still scowling as she happily worked on . . . whatever the hell it was she was working on. Across from him. At her desk. How the hell . . .
He remembered saying no. He remembered cursing. Threatening her unborn children. Then there was a sort of hazy period of smiles and calm words. Then she had touched the back of his hand with her naked fingers.
And now, here he was with . . . her desk . . . pressed to his—surreptitiously watching her scratch her paper, the tip of her tongue poking from the side of her mouth as she worked.
...Go somewhere else. Somewhere safer.”
Anywhere else. God, please. Or he was likely to do something horribly awful, like surrender his sanity and kiss her.
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