Unbridled by Beth Williamson Read Free Book Online Page A

something he could relate to. However, it was the anger he remembered more—she had a deep fury within her that had its talons dug deep. That was where he could completely relate. Once upon a time he’d spent a good deal of time being angry at the world. It was tough to shake.
    Of course, he also kept thinking about her lips and those damn eyes. She was like sin incarnate for him, all curves and no sharp angles. He liked women who weren’t emaciated and whose ribs didn’t threaten to poke an eye out. This woman, she had it all going on with breasts the size of cantaloupes ripe for picking, curvy hips he could trace with his tongue, and an ass that still made his dick twitch.
    Oh yeah, she was definitely a lot of woman and exactly his type. Too bad she got drunk in hotel bars and passed out while trying to seduce strangers. It was a good thing Connor had a conscience and knew wrong from right, or she’d have woken up with more than a hangover.
    Then again, it was a shame she had gotten so drunk that she had passed out. His own body reacted, yet again, to the memory of the mystery woman, and it was all he could do to tell his semierect Johnson to cool it.
    A knock at the door was the last thing he needed.
    “Yes?” he called out, annoyed with himself more than with whoever was knocking at his office door.
    The door opened and Jennifer poked her head in. She was the daughter of Henry Avila, the head of landscaping, and a good kid. When not in school, she worked at the front desk to make money for her college tuition. This time her normally bright smile was gone. She frowned and her gaze was full of trepidation.
    “What’s the matter?”
    “There’s a woman out here asking for Grant.”
    The mention of his business partner, friend, and mentor still made his heart clench. It had been two years since Grant’s death. Connor had finally moved past the pain of losing the man who had helped shape him into the person he was. The memory of the day they buried Grant would be with him for a very long time. He hoped whoever the woman was, she hadn’t been close to Grant. Connor didn’t like being the bearer of bad news—he sure as hell didn’t know how to be sympathetic to a stranger’s grief.
    “Okay, no problem. I’ll be right there.” Fortunately or not, the interruption had actually cured his semiarousal. He needed to stay focused on work and not on the drunken fish that got away.
    He left his hat on the desk and walked out of the office. As he stepped down the hallway, he smiled at the pictures lining the walls. They’d build the guest ranch as a family; each cabin that had gone up was proudly displayed with a group photo of the staff. Grant had done his best to make sure the Finley Ranch was a place filled with love, no matter whose blood ran through your veins.
    As Connor entered the great room that served as the lobby, he nearly went back into his office. There stood the woman from the bar with her back to him. He glanced around but there was no one else there. Jennifer pointed at her, then left the room. Jesus, the woman had followed him somehow and thought he was Grant. That was a sticky situation.
    “Good morning.”
    She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to look at him. This morning she wore a pair of nicely fitted jeans, a deep purple blouse and her hair up in some kind of knot on the top of her head. He was again struck by the depth of her blue eyes, deep and fathomless. This time instead of anger, he saw a deep sadness and confusion.
    “I know you.”
    He went over and leaned against the check-in desk. “We met at the hotel last night.”
    Her cheeks colored slightly. “Ah, yeah, that’s why you seem familiar. I, um, don’t normally even drink, much less get toasted on two drinks in a hotel bar.” She glanced at her feet, which he noted were encased in the same pair of fancy ankle boots that wouldn’t last two seconds outside. “Was it you who brought me to my room?”
    Nice to know he