Marry Me Read Online Free

and he moved with the ease of a dancer or athlete.
    They were Harold's adopted children. Faith's children now. The money was theirs, and she'd never give it up.
    "There's a car outside," Peanut said.
    "Really? What kind?"
    "A fancy one!"
    "A Porsche," Bryce clarified. "There's a man driving it. He's studying the house."
    "Interesting," Faith mused.
    Gracie grinned. "Why do I suppose it's Lucas Merriweather?"
    "Why would you automatically assume it's him?"
    "He was planning to bully you into submission, right?"
    "Yes."
    "But now that he's met you, he realizes it won't work, so he has to try a different tactic."
    "Like what?"
    "Friendship, seduction, bribery. It's hard to tell what he'll choose." Gracie nodded toward the street. "Go talk to him. See what he wants."
    Faith rose and started out, her small family trailing after her. She stopped and peeked out the front window. The driver had exited the car and was leaned against the passenger side, his arms cross over his muscled chest.
    Sure enough, it was Lucas, all six feet, one-hundred-eighty pounds of him. He was wearing a leather jacket that accented his broad shoulders. A white tee stretched over his great pecs. Tight jeans hugged his long legs. Scuffed boots made him appear tough and dangerous.
    His black hair was a little too long, his blue eyes a little too jaded. He could have been a fallen angel or the bad boy from high school your mother warned you about.
    What on earth could he want?
    Gracie checked him out and clucked her tongue. "Ooh, I wish I was five years younger."
    "Down girl," Faith murmured, and she went outside.
    She stood on her porch, assessing him as intently as he was assessing her, and a frisson of concern slithered down her spine. She was definitely in the middle of a moment , as if fate had intervened and her life would never be the same.
    For a brief interlude, she huddled there, afraid to speak or walk toward him. Then he smiled, gifting her with the full force of his dynamic charm, and she remembered that she loathed him.
    She wondered how many women he'd smiled at just that way, and she shook herself out of her stupor and marched down the steps.
    "Hello Merriweather." She smiled her brightest smile too. If he could preen and attempt to seduce, so could she. "Fancy meeting you here."
    "Hello, Miss Benjamin. Or since you married Harold, maybe I should call you grandmamma."
    "That makes me sound so old," she pouted.
    He raised an imperious brow. "You're the one who wed a ninety-year-old man. The title comes with the territory."
    "Did you travel all this way just to insult me? Or did you have some other purpose in mind?"
    Her question was deliberately suggestive. When she was with him, she couldn't seem to behave. He overwhelmed her better sense, oozing so much testosterone that she had no ability to deflect the onslaught.
    She approached him until she was so close that her thigh brushed his jeans. It was a beautiful summer afternoon, and she was dressed in flip-flops, shorts, and a halter top. Her hair was down and curled around her shoulders, so she looked nothing like the stuffy lawyer he'd encountered at Carolyn Stone's office.
    Back then, he'd tried to keep his gaze where it belonged. Now, with her barely clothed, he was happy to let his attention roam.
    His eyes dropped to her cleavage, to her breasts that were scarcely constrained by the stretchy fabric of her tiny top. A flash of desire shot through her torso and out to her extremities. His focus was so potent that she was electrified by it. If she'd pointed her finger, sparks would have flown from the tip.
    He was aware of the effect he had, and he smirked as if she'd reacted exactly as he'd expected.
    He leaned toward her so they were inches apart. Was he thinking of kissing her? Would he dare?
    "How long were you married?" he murmured.
    His query was bland and casual, but his tone made it seem as if she'd been propositioned. Her cheeks flushed, her temperature rose ten degrees.
    "Six