Taming McGruff (Book 3, Once Upon A Romance Series) by Laurie LeClair Page A
Authors: Laurie LeClair
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every woman is a pixie, either.”
She gasped, jerking her head up to find his hot gaze on her again. Her insides tumbled. “I don’t want to get married,” she insisted.
“It’s in your best interest,” he countered.
“Now you sound like my mother.”
He grimaced. “That was a low blow, Pixie.”
Closing her eyes and leaning her forehead on her raised knees, she asked, “Why?”
Somehow he knew what she asked; he said, “Let’s just say, we’ll both benefit. For you, you’re off the market. No more prospective grooms to deal with or your mother’s manipulations on who to marry and how much she’ll interfere after the nuptials.” Her middle clenched at the reminders of what was to come if she didn’t agree. “I’ll protect you from her.” His voice was so close it startled her; she looked up quickly. He was mere inches from her now. “You will have your freedom to redo this house, to make that name for yourself, without any interference. No gossip, no insinuations, no distractions to deal with.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. Shifting so now she sat even closer, she lifted her hands to cup his face. Searching his hooded stare, she asked, “And you?”
“You protect me.” A mixture of somberness and truth rang in his words.
“From what?”
“Myself.”
“You don’t scare me.” He didn’t.
“I do.”
“You scare yourself? That’s just McGruff. He’s easy to spot and—”
“Easy to tame?” He reached for her hand, turned it over and kissed her palm.
Tingles scattered where his lips touched and raced over her flesh. “If you’re a pixie.”
***
Priscilla stood staring into space at his kitchen sink. The lukewarm water rushed through her fingers.
Griffin came up behind her and turned off the faucets. Gingerly, he wiped her hands on a towel. “Is it that difficult to imagine?”
“Marriage? Yes. It’s so drastic. Can’t we just get pretend engaged?”
His stillness vibrated around her. “I doubt that will stop your mother from interfering. Planting stories in the press, pictures maybe. Even doubts about cheating—me, probably. It would benefit her cause to set up the sordid details with the focus on me to gain sympathy for you, the victim. It could get very ugly.”
The breath whooshed out of her lungs. The copies of the gossip column headlines he’d shown her rushed back. Her mother had stooped so low with Francie and Marcus. With only one unmarried daughter left, who knew what she’d try this time as desperation took hold? Her repeated calls testified to that already. Griff was right, of course.
He drew her into him, her back against his front. Warmth and his scent surrounded her. She melted. “I don’t want anything, not material things, from you. I’ll sign a pre-nup. That should stop most of the rumors. I admit marrying you will help my position at King’s. It will make it easier for me to make the necessary changes without a lot of resistance from the loyal employees. But, Priscilla, I can do that on my own. It will just take longer. I’ve done it before, so don’t think I’m using you for that.”
It had crossed her mind, briefly, and then she’d shaken it off. No, Griffin James, self-made gazillionaire, wouldn’t need anyone or anything to help him advance his career any more than he could do on his own. He’d done it on his own thus far. In fact, taking over at King’s almost seemed like a downgrade.
Sighing, she turned in his arms. She leaned her head on his chest, hearing his strong, solid heartbeat. Right now, her heart ached. Lifting her head, she gazed into his eyes. “I don’t think I can marry you or anyone else.”
***
Dazed, Griffin threw himself into his job. He forced himself to run on autopilot, relying on his days of just surviving. The store benefited from his razor-sharp focus and the extra attention. He’d tweaked the website, drawing in more immediate online sales. On the floor, he’d initiated a
She gasped, jerking her head up to find his hot gaze on her again. Her insides tumbled. “I don’t want to get married,” she insisted.
“It’s in your best interest,” he countered.
“Now you sound like my mother.”
He grimaced. “That was a low blow, Pixie.”
Closing her eyes and leaning her forehead on her raised knees, she asked, “Why?”
Somehow he knew what she asked; he said, “Let’s just say, we’ll both benefit. For you, you’re off the market. No more prospective grooms to deal with or your mother’s manipulations on who to marry and how much she’ll interfere after the nuptials.” Her middle clenched at the reminders of what was to come if she didn’t agree. “I’ll protect you from her.” His voice was so close it startled her; she looked up quickly. He was mere inches from her now. “You will have your freedom to redo this house, to make that name for yourself, without any interference. No gossip, no insinuations, no distractions to deal with.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. Shifting so now she sat even closer, she lifted her hands to cup his face. Searching his hooded stare, she asked, “And you?”
“You protect me.” A mixture of somberness and truth rang in his words.
“From what?”
“Myself.”
“You don’t scare me.” He didn’t.
“I do.”
“You scare yourself? That’s just McGruff. He’s easy to spot and—”
“Easy to tame?” He reached for her hand, turned it over and kissed her palm.
Tingles scattered where his lips touched and raced over her flesh. “If you’re a pixie.”
***
Priscilla stood staring into space at his kitchen sink. The lukewarm water rushed through her fingers.
Griffin came up behind her and turned off the faucets. Gingerly, he wiped her hands on a towel. “Is it that difficult to imagine?”
“Marriage? Yes. It’s so drastic. Can’t we just get pretend engaged?”
His stillness vibrated around her. “I doubt that will stop your mother from interfering. Planting stories in the press, pictures maybe. Even doubts about cheating—me, probably. It would benefit her cause to set up the sordid details with the focus on me to gain sympathy for you, the victim. It could get very ugly.”
The breath whooshed out of her lungs. The copies of the gossip column headlines he’d shown her rushed back. Her mother had stooped so low with Francie and Marcus. With only one unmarried daughter left, who knew what she’d try this time as desperation took hold? Her repeated calls testified to that already. Griff was right, of course.
He drew her into him, her back against his front. Warmth and his scent surrounded her. She melted. “I don’t want anything, not material things, from you. I’ll sign a pre-nup. That should stop most of the rumors. I admit marrying you will help my position at King’s. It will make it easier for me to make the necessary changes without a lot of resistance from the loyal employees. But, Priscilla, I can do that on my own. It will just take longer. I’ve done it before, so don’t think I’m using you for that.”
It had crossed her mind, briefly, and then she’d shaken it off. No, Griffin James, self-made gazillionaire, wouldn’t need anyone or anything to help him advance his career any more than he could do on his own. He’d done it on his own thus far. In fact, taking over at King’s almost seemed like a downgrade.
Sighing, she turned in his arms. She leaned her head on his chest, hearing his strong, solid heartbeat. Right now, her heart ached. Lifting her head, she gazed into his eyes. “I don’t think I can marry you or anyone else.”
***
Dazed, Griffin threw himself into his job. He forced himself to run on autopilot, relying on his days of just surviving. The store benefited from his razor-sharp focus and the extra attention. He’d tweaked the website, drawing in more immediate online sales. On the floor, he’d initiated a
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