The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6) Read Online Free PDF Page A

stance as intimidating as she was sure he intended it to be. Two could play that game. She set the glass down on the counter and moved toward him. She stopped six inches away. Definitely in his space. She put her hands on his crossed forearms and felt the muscles bunch under her fingers.
    “I’m here to ask a favor,” she said.
    A muscle worked in his jaw, but he remained silent.
    She took a deep breath and said, “I want you to sell your controlling shares of the Bitter Creek Cattle Company back to the Blackthornes.”
    “Why would I want to do that?”
    “Because you don’t need Bitter Creek.”
    North snorted.
    “And because I’m offering you something more valuable in exchange.”
    “Nothing on earth could match the feeling of satisfaction I’m going to get from owning Bitter Creek,” North said savagely.
    “You can have me in your bed,” Jocelyn said. “Willing. And eager.”
    “What makes you think I care?”
    Jocelyn lowered her eyes along his body until she reached the abundant proof cupped lovingly by his butter-soft jeans. She let her hand follow where her eyes led, until her fingertips had outlined the width and warmth of him.
    Then she met his gaze and said, “I think you care a great deal.” Her voice caressed as her hand caressed.
    “I want revenge more,” he said curtly, grabbing both her wrists and holding them in front of him tight enough to hurt.
    “You can still have your revenge,” she argued. “Just in a different way.”
    “What way is that?”
    “You can steal me from Clay, the way Blackjack stole Eve from your father. Wonderful symmetry, don’t you think?”
    He paused so long she thought for sure she’d found an argument he would buy. But he said, “I don’t want a wife.”
    “Fine,” she said, smarting from his dismissal. “You can have me for as long as—”
    “I’ll take you just long enough to make him suffer,” North interrupted. “That’s all I want.”
    “Our wedding day is June 4. I—”
    “Call it off,” he said. “That’s my price.”
    Jocelyn couldn’t speak past the sudden lump in her throat. She swallowed painfully, and said in a soft voice, “Very well. It’s done.” The ache in her throat made it hard to speak, and she whispered, “Now what?”
    He let go of one wrist, but held onto the other and headed out of the kitchen and down the hallway, pulling her along behind him. Her high heels clacked on the wooden floor.
    “Where are we going?” she asked.
    “To bed.”
    “No. Wait!” Jocelyn stuck her hand out to brace herself on a passing doorway, but it was no use. He was too strong, and she lost her balance in the high heels and careened after him. “Please. I don’t think I can—”
    He turned so suddenly her breasts flattened against his chest when she ran into him, and his arms circled her to hold them both upright. She could see his eyes just fine now, and they were as cold as Arctic ice.
    “You trying to wriggle out of the deal already?”
    “You don’t have to drag me along like a cat on its way to a bath,” she snapped. “You could leave me a little dignity.”
    “There’s nothing dignified about sex. It’s hot and sweaty and coarse and vulgar and about as primitive as life gets.”
    Jocelyn gaped. She was too stunned to breathe. “I don’t even know you. We’re strangers. Surely you can’t want—”
    “I want you, honey,” he said. “Or there wouldn’t have been a deal. You coming? Or not?”
    “I need time—”
    “This is a one-time offer,” he said. “Take it or leave it.”
    “How do I know you’ll do what you say after you have what you want from me?” she countered.
    His eyes narrowed. “I killed the last man who called me a liar.”
    Jocelyn would have thought he was exaggerating, except his voice had been too soft—and menacing. “I’m not a man,” she said. “I can’t meet you with six-shooters at dawn. I need some sort of—”
    “My word has always been good,” he growled.
    “I