A Place to Call Home by Christina James Read Free Book Online

her skin like tiny raindrops. He had come back. “ Trouble ,” she drawled in a voice unnaturally husky for her. “The name of my perfume is Trouble .”
     
    “Of course it is.” He shut the door.
     
    She smiled, suddenly feeling more alive than she had in years, if ever. Grateful for the privacy, she allowed herself to stretch long and lazy, like a giddy schoolgirl too nervous to sleep. Hannah snuggled into the plush mattress knowing Mac slept there nightly. Tonight, she would dream of how he had held her, cradled her, cared for her. How he had awakened something deep inside her that had been frozen over time. And how much she had enjoyed every second of it.
     
    Too exhausted to ponder her thoughts or the events of the day any more, she slid her head onto his pillow, and dozed off to sleep before her lids fully shut.
     

Chapter Five
     
    On the couch, Mac grew more restless with each passing minute. He glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen clock. Two in the morning. Shit! He had to get up at six. He stared at the ceiling.
     
    Trouble . Hannah’s perfume was Trouble . She could’ve been talking about her middle name.
     
    Today had been the day from hell, hadn’t it? He’d saved that redheaded woman from herself all day long. First, she falls through the floor. Then flails like a fish out of water in his arms almost killing them both on the stairs. That redheaded witch came out of nowhere, disrupting his life and wandering into his thoughts constantly. Now she lay upstairs, sleeping in his bed while he’d been forced to sleep on the couch with the dog snoring under the coffee table.
     
    Porkchop usually slept with Luke, but tonight he’d stayed in the parlor, hoping he’d get a midnight snack out of the deal. When no food had been shared, Porkchop had finally fallen asleep. Now if only Mac could do the same. He’d worked on a few hours sleep before, especially after being up all night when one of the boys were sick, but would rather not again. Lying there, he stared at the ceiling, wide-awake and helpless to be anything but.
     
    Trouble . Who the hell names a perfume Trouble ? And why couldn’t he get the sexy, sensual smell out of his damn nose?
     
    The sexy witch taking over his bed had been a real beauty. Mac admitted sourly, sighing loudly, placing his hand behind his head seeking some kind of comfort. She had the looks, the body, the eyes. Her long, curly, red hair flowed past her shoulders, wild and bright against her smooth, milky-white complexion. Her big and wide eyes, green like emeralds, shot daggers when that spicy temper flared.
     
    Her average height, probably five-seven, caused her to look up at him in an adorable way, straining her neck, desperate to make eye contact or to stare him down. Her face, absolutely striking, showcased a small jaw, sharp cheekbones, and a delicate nose. A picture of elegance, and probably from being pampered her whole life. He knew that when a woman lived a certain way of life she could never be satisfied with the tranquil lifestyle he’d finally achieved. But that still didn’t keep him from imagining her naked. Her slender body provoked a mouthwatering response at first glance. Curves in the right places. Small, tight ass that begged for his hands to grab. Full breasts begging for his mouth to devour them, suck them, nibble them.
     
    God, what a hot woman! But then she opens her mouth and poof! The beautiful image gets shot to hell. He’d heard redheads had a fiery side to match their hair color. Well, if she thought she could take her spitfire temper out on him, she had another think coming. Mental images of her caused his cock to harden with the need to see how feisty she would be in bed. He bet he could sap her energy and diminish that touchy disposition of hers.
     
    Smiling, he remembered how she jumped back into bed when he’d moved toward her to ensure she did just that. She might have a fierce temper and terrible stubborn streak, but at least