Five Alarm Lust Elise Whyles (most life changing books .txt) 📖

“Are you an archeologist?”

“Historian. I’ve spent years learning all about history—specifically Canadian history, pre-white settlers. At the moment I work for a movie company. They’re making an epic historical drama, and I’m the consultant they hired—or rather the museum loaned out. Then when I go home I’m going back to work. The new semester is starting soon, keeps me busy.” Gillian shrugged. “How’d you get roped into my mother’s wild plans?”

“Ah, you noticed my less than subtle dodge, huh? I’m a friend of the groom’s. He’s my captain at the fire hall.” A figure moved between them, setting something with ice in it on the table before vanishing.

Gillian nodded. Typical. Why couldn’t he be something she could hate? Snickering at herself, she reached for the glass on the table. Even geeks can be asses, Gilli, just look at Mike. Fear and revulsion slithered down her spine at the memory. No, don’t look at that example. Better not to think of it, she told herself, her fingers catching the edge of a glass.

“Watch it, you’re going to…” His warning came seconds too late.

Chapter 2

Gillian stifled a shriek as the icy liquid spread across the front of her dress. She stumbled to her feet, knocking her knee against the table. The clatter of glasses and cutlery banging terrified her. “Oh no!” Thankfully, nothing hit the floor, and she breathed a soft sigh of relief that was short-lived. If her mother found out, oh God, I’m dead.

“…Spill your drink.” He pressed a napkin into her hand, his touch firm, commanding. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I can do this by myself…” Gilli tensed. Fear prickled at the thought of having a man helping her, touching her. In her experience nothing good ever came of their touch, and she wasn’t in any shape to make an escape—even an undignified one.

“How? You able to see your way to the ladies room?” Jack wrapped an arm around her waist and nudged her forward. “Come on, I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

“Get my glasses from the witch in white and I’ll be grateful.” Gilli winced, her ankles wobbling as she stumbled, sending a sharp throbbing pain up her leg. Why would anyone who knew her expect her to be able to wear four inch heels?

“Here we go.” Jack tightened his grip for a second. “I’ll wait right here—if you need help…”

“I won’t.” Gilli pushed on the door. Stepping into the quiet of the restroom, she inched her way to the sink. The counter edge bit into her palm as she leaned against it, fumbling with the straps to get her shoes off before she dropped them on the floor. The cold of the tiles seeped into her feet, relieving the ache in her arches. “I hate heels, I hate dresses that make me look like an escapee from the Easter Parade, and I hate my mother. Really, why on earth would she even dream I’d like this?” With a shaking hand, she blotted at the stain on her dress. Gilli shook her head. “I can’t see a damn thing and she knows it…”

“Why?” Jack’s voice behind her drew a startled yelp. Her arms flailing about, Gilli found herself pressed against his hard body. Whether it was fear or something else that got her pulse racing, Gillian wasn’t sure, nor did she relish the idea of uncovering the truth. Both were familiar and as welcome as razor burn on her bikini line.

“Why what?”

“Why can’t you see?”

“I have congenital glaucoma.” Gilli straightened, her body swaying. She shivered at the prickles of heat along her bare skin. What is it about this guy that gets me hot? Think, girl. Remember, you’re an ice queen, frigid without an ounce of sexual ability—he’s not going to even see you as a woman. Control the need. What you need is a cold shower. Control, Gillian, control. “I need my glasses.”

“Here.” Jack pressed something into her hand.

Unfolding the glasses, Gilli slipped them into place, and then blinked a couple of times to clear her vision. When she did, she gasped. Her Adonis stood before her, his tuxedo jacket gone, white shirt stained with pink streaks, and his hair askew. “On my gods.” Her hands flew to her face and she gaped at him. “I am so sorry, look at your shirt. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning. I can’t believe I managed to ruin your shirt. How clumsy of me. I promise, I will pay for cleaning it.”

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I’ve seen worse. You okay? Too much to drink?”

“No.” Gilli inched across the floor, embarrassment flooding her. This would teach her. “I don’t drink … well, under normal circumstances. I’ve only had two or three drinks tonight—which is more than I ever do.” A grimace of distaste on her lips, she tucked her feet back into her shoes and straightened.

He changed the subject, seeming to catch on she didn’t want to talk about it. “Without your glasses you’re blind, so why did your—?” He wrapped his coat around her shoulders, ushering her toward the bank of elevators down the hall and away from the party.

“Doesn’t matter.” Gilli accepted her mother’s faults with familiar ease. Barbara Cassidy had long since ceased to be a puzzle to her. There was one priority in the woman’s life and it started and ended with herself. For her to consider anyone beyond herself would mean she had more than ice water and greed running through her veins.

“You can use my room to get cleaned up. If I remember, you were in your mother’s spare bedroom, which just happens to be the honeymoon suite.” He summoned the elevator, a quick grin on his face.

Gilli flushed and stepped into the elevator. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned against the railing. Thick and heavy, the silence that settled over the small room was enough to choke her. Nervous, her fingers twisted the narrow ribbon