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MARRY POPPINS
Impossible Dream #3
Beth Ciotta
Released February 27th, 2016
BC Ink
When fate bobbles your dream,
sometimes you have to make your own magic…
Award-winning author Beth Ciotta presents Marry Poppins, the third book in the contemporary
fairy tale series—Impossible Dream—celebrating hope, love, and the magic of the
human spirit!
She wants a family.
He needs a wife. A marriage-of-convenience solves a myriad of problems for
unlucky Georgie Poppins and down-on-his-luck Bryce Morgan. Falling in love
wasn’t part of the bargain so no one is more surprised than Georgie and Bryce
when sexual sparks ignite a full-blown romance. Unfortunately, as love swells,
trouble mounts, including a glitch at Impossible Dream.com—an Internet company
designed to match people with their most avid desire. Maybe Georgie and Bryce
weren’t meant to be after all.
Most of her waking moments
didn’t seem real. Visiting places she never dreamed she’d see in person,
alongside the man she once dreamed she’d marry. Not only that, they were rooming
together and sleeping together—albeit platonically.
Aside from that one
unexpected and amazingly perfect kiss, Bryce had kept his lips to himself.
Georgie would have been disappointed except his attraction was evident. She
felt it. She sizzled with it. Something was building. Something was going to
happen between Georgina Lou Poppins and Bryce-The Bullet-Morgan. The
anticipation was exhilarating. The ultimate foreplay—and the most he’d done was
hold her hand while navigating crowds. Or palming the small of her back while
guiding her through an entrance.
His touch had been warm
and welcome. He made her feel safe and cared for, as if she were his to worry
about. Every brush of his hand felt like a lover’s caress.
Maybe they weren’t
destined for forever, but they were destined for at least once.
She didn’t want to jinx
it. She didn’t want to cheapen it with girlish, gossipy exchanges with her
friends. She didn’t want to rush it or force it—patience recommended—so she
played it cool. No easy feat. Especially when they were first waking up or
preparing for bed. Or basically anytime they were alone in the hotel suite—that
king-sized, pillow-soft mattress screaming for action of the horizontal-mambo
variety.
Sort of like now.
“Are you sure there wasn’t
anything else you wanted to do tonight?” Bryce asked as he shrugged out of a
suit jacket and draped it over the chair.
A loaded question,
considering, yeah, she’d like to jump his bones. Georgie answered cautiously as
she sat on the sofa and unbuckled her left strappy heel. “Not for anything, but
these shoes weren’t made for walking.”
“No, they weren’t.”
Georgie glanced up and
caught Bryce staring at her legs.
The sexually charged air
crackled and Georgie had to bite her tongue as she fumbled with the buckle of
her other—not exactly, but as close as she owned—FMPs.
Bryce had treated her to
dinner and a show. A musical playing in Leicester Square, which was sort of
like New York’s Times Square albeit it more quaint (according to Bryce, who’d
been to New York City, unlike Georgie).
Even though Bryce had
assured her not all people dressed up for the theater, Georgie couldn’t resist
going all out. Fortunately, Angel had supplied her with two dresses suitable
for finer entertainment. Georgie had settled on a simple black halter dress and
strappy red heels. The same heels she’d worn to Bryce’s non-wedding. The
difference was her non-wedding dress had skimmed her knees. This hemline
stopped mid-thigh. So, yeah, her legs were on prime display.
Feigning innocence, she
asked, “Anything wrong?”
“I should go.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. I need to walk
this off.”
It was all she could do to
stay seated, to feign calm. He looked gorgeous and miserable and she wanted to
tackle him to the floor. “Walk what off?”
Bryce palmed the back of
his neck and rubbed. He blew out a breath. A tense breath. A really tense
breath.
Georgie practiced
extraordinary patience.
“That dress. Those shoes.
You. The past few days.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers,
studied the toes of his boots.
Georgie waited.
“You look hot, dammit.”
Her pulse kicked. If only
he didn’t sound so disappointed. “Thank you. I think.”
“I can’t be here. This—and
don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about—can’t happen.”
Heart pounding, Georgie
took a leap of faith. Enough patience. Time to initiate derring-do. She rose to
her bare feet and closed the distance between them. “Okay. No pretending. Let’s
face this head on.” She inched closer, pressing her body to his, acknowledging
his oh-so-noticeable package. “Why can’t this happen?”
He remained frozen,
staring down at her in stoic silence.
“Because I’m Ryan’s
sister?” she prodded. “Because you’re on the rebound? Because you don’t love me
and you don’t want to complicate matters with meaningless sex? Because you’re
conflicted about the twins and your future and you need me to be there for them
and for Arlo so you can honor your charity commitments and pursue whatever?”
She rattled off everything
she could think of because there wasn’t one forthcoming bone in Bryce’s
infuriatingly hunky body. The man guarded his innermost thoughts as if they
were a flipping national secret.
He worked his jaw. “Yes.”
“To what?”
“To everything.”
She wanted to punch
him—the big stubborn, noble, ex-jock. “What if I told you meaningless sex is
all I’m interested in? What if I told you I have no intention of bailing on
your nanny job—no matter if this happens or not—because that job is the only
thing keeping me afloat until my dream job comes through. Which—in case I
didn’t mention it before—should be soon.”
If she said it often
enough, maybe it would happen. Maybe she’d get that golden email from
Impossible Dream alerting her of a wondrous opportunity. As it was, the only
notices she’d been getting were from bill collectors.
Jerking her thoughts back
to pleasant ground, Georgie dug in. “Here’s the thing. Ignoring this attraction
won’t make it go away, Bryce. Addressing it might. If it helps,” she lied, “I
meant what I said that day at Grace Chapel. This isn’t a matter of the heart.
This is purely physical.”
And that was about all she
could muster in the derring-do department without sacrificing her pride.
Bryce closed his eyes and
cursed.
When he reached for his
jacket, Georgie turned her back. He was leaving. Fine. “Go for your walk.
Forget I said anything,” she said while fumbling with the zipper at the back of
her dress. “I’ll be in bed by the time you get back, sleeping this off.”
She heard the door open…
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Do.
Not. Cry.
…and shut.
“Dammit,” she swore when
the zipper wouldn’t budge and her temper overflowed.
“Screw it.” Bryce cupped
her shoulders and turned her in his arms.
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Beth
Ciotta is an
award-winning author who specializes in quirky romantic adventures. Dubbed “fun
and sexy” by Publishers Weekly, her work includes contemporary, historical, and
paranormal romantic fiction. Beth lives in New Jersey with her husband, two
zany dogs, and a crazy cat.
A retired professional performer, Beth now pours her artistic passion into her
writing. To learn more about her colorful life, visit her website at www.bethciotta.com
Ciotta is an
award-winning author who specializes in quirky romantic adventures. Dubbed “fun
and sexy” by Publishers Weekly, her work includes contemporary, historical, and
paranormal romantic fiction. Beth lives in New Jersey with her husband, two
zany dogs, and a crazy cat.
A retired professional performer, Beth now pours her artistic passion into her
writing. To learn more about her colorful life, visit her website at www.bethciotta.com
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