His Unwanted Wife, The Secret Biker Boss

n Colli

a dark wall of rage. He took a heavy step onto the concret

o grab my upper arm. "Get your coat. You're coming back to the clubhouse. You're going to write a

nly, letting his ha

voice dead and level. "You touch me again, and I

n the air, his eyes w

e step inside, using his size to crowd me back against the workbench. "You're nothing without the Salin

ng my inheritance to buy your side-piece boutique handbags,

his fist as he lunged forward. "Kristina

un

grinding into the frozen gravel

orway, blocking the exter

are you bark

ged across an iron plate. It carried a weight of pure, unadul

, his raised fist sha

ther cut over a dark canvas jacket. On the left breast of his leather was a patch that made the

lon MC. Mot

patch was stitched in stark

breast, a singl

pher S

is lips. As he raised his right hand to pull it from his mouth, the shop light caught the three thick, jagged crimso

ctually buckled a fraction of an inch,

Sharpe..

rks into the dark snow outside. He didn't even look at Chas's face. He looked at the floor, the

ely calm. "If I see you within ten feet of this garage aga

e turned, stumbled over his own boots in the doorway, and ran down the alley like a whipp

op fell de

d burning tobacco drifted from the gia

eavy steel workbench, my right hand slipping into my jacket poc

ithout blinking. "I didn't realize the Reaper's Talon Preside

s toward me. The leather of his cut cre

bordered on dark amusement. "The ghost fleet moving heavy freight through three states without a single fede

inst my ribs, but my face

omework," I replied. "Wha

. "You've got eighty percent of the winterized diesel between here and Reno sitting in private tanks. But y

scarred face. "And you happen to have two hundred

casting a dark shadow over my shoulders. "In exchange, Reaper's Talon provides armed escort fo

escorts, the fuel would sit in tanks until the thaw, useless.

moothly. "And your boys don'

huckle rumble

the radiant heat coming off his heavy frame in the freezi

my hand from my pocket a

didn't ta

ed scars-and his rough, calloused thumb brushed softly against my

r slaughter, and completely electric. My breath hitched

uickly, his eyes glittering w

business with yo

oor, pulling the collar of his ja

ight tomorrow," he said ove

g beside my workbench, my heart pounding in my ears