Page 17 of Richer Than Sin

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I locked my stare with his, trying not to get lost in the green-and-gold depths, and told him. “Whitney Gable.”

I was expecting shock—a comical level of it, to be honest—but instead I got no reaction from him at all. Maybe stonewalling emotions was something Riscoffs were required to master by age ten or something. Wouldn’t surprise me since they were basically all spawned from the devil himself—Commodore Riscoff. The man who burned down my family’s homestead.

Instead of backing away like I was rabid, Lincoln moved his hand closer to me, and for some reason that, plus his continued silence, made me bolder.

“Did you not hear me? I’m a Gable. You’re sworn to hate me for life. So, it would be better for both of us if you’d turn around and walk your privileged Riscoff ass out the door and let me get on with my day before my aunt gets back and sees you here.”

Instead of doing what I told him, Lincoln squatted down until his face was only inches from mine. “I’m a Riscoff, which means I can do whatever the fuck I want, including not hating a Gable.”

Shock filtered through me.

“At least now I get why you ran this morning. Gotta say, that was a first for me.”

He reached down, bracketing my hips with both hands, and lifted me to my feet—and directly against his chest.

His heat soaked into my T-shirt that was micro thin from too many years of washing. My nipples hardened, and the jump of his Adam’s apple told me he felt the hard points poking through the barely there fabric of my bra.

“I want to see you again.” His breath brushed my ear as he leaned closer.

I wanted to push away to put space between us but couldn’t bring myself to break his hold on me. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m a Gable. Whatever you think is happening, it’s not. You need to forget you’ve ever seen me. I can’t—”

“Then tell me you don’t want more,Whitney Gable.Tell me last night wasn’t as good for you as it was for me.”

His fingertips dug into my hips, and I wanted to rub up against him like a cat in heat. Last night was incredible, and up until I saw the picture of Commodore Riscoff, Roosevelt Riscoff, andhimand realized who he was, I was planning on having as many repeats as possible.

I forced myself to jerk out of his hold. “That doesn’t matter. Your family stole our farm and burned it all down. You might not have been here for that, but we lost everything because of the Riscoffs.”

I stalked across the floor, but he snagged my wrist and twirled me back around to face him.

“You’re going to walk away because of some bullshit feud that should’ve been buried a hundred fucking years ago? Is that what you’re seriously saying to me?”

“Yes! Maybe it’s easy to dismiss it from up in the tower where you live, but—” I pointed to the bucket of water I’d been using to wash the windows. “Where I am, down on solid ground, we notice when someone takes something from us. We especially notice when they take everything.”

His mouth twisted, and I thought I’d finally hammered home my point. I should have been thrilled as he dropped my wrist, but a sharp feeling stabbed me in the chest.

“Fuck that.” Lincoln’s deep voice turned harsh, and his expression went hard. “I don’t give a damn. This isn’t over between you and me.”

He stepped forward and pulled me against him. My body responded with heat flaring between my legs, but my mind clanged like a warning bell.

I might as well have been deaf to it.

Lincoln’s lips crashed against mine, kissing me like he was a dying man and I was his only hope of survival. I tried to keep my hands off him, but I failed miserably as I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer.

Kissing Lincoln Riscoff was like finding salvation when you’d thought all was lost. It didn’t feel like kissing the enemy.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Aunt Jackie’s voice cut through my rioting emotions, and I jerked back as Lincoln released me. I knew exactly when she recognized who he was by her sharp intake of breath.

“Holy shit, Whitney. Please tell me he’s not who I think he is.”

“Ma’am, I’m—”

I interrupted Lincoln before he could say any more. “He’s leaving. Right now.”

I could almost hear Lincoln’s brain going to work as he opened his mouth to argue with me, but thankfully he listened to my request. He stepped away, and the next thing I heard was the tinkling chimes of the door as it opened and closed.

Aunt Jackie’s furious gaze speared me. “You’ve got a hell of a lot of explaining to do, and I suggest you start right now.”