A Contract for His Runaway Bride

She picked up a soft brush and dusted some highlighter down the slope of her nose. ‘Still hot outside?’

‘Yes.’

But not as hot as in here, Lincoln wanted to say, but didn’t.

Heat was pooling in his groin—a fiery heat that bloomed and flared like wildfire. If ever there was a time for a cold shower, this was it. He went into the en suite bathroom and closed the door, but even in there he was surrounded by the alluring, bewitching scent of her.

There were wet towels hanging haphazardly over the rail and he suppressed a wry smile. It was certainly an improvement from her leaving them on the floor, as she had so often in the past. He had argued about it with her numerous times, but he had never managed to housetrain her. He wondered now why he’d bothered. Of course, these days Elodie had a team of people picking up after her. She had personal assistants and make-up artists and hair stylists who were at her beck and call, catering to her every whim.

Lincoln had to make sure he didn’t become one of them.