I was surprised when Jasper listed Wren as his plus one to my party. Reading the fiery undercurrents between them now, my thoughts echoed Bryce’s.
‘Maybe he’s in the mood for a little self-flagellation,’ Bryce answered his own question with a smirk, then his face grew serious. ‘Fuck me. Would you have ever believed we’d get here?’ he said gruffly.
Gideon lifted a snarky eyebrow. ‘Here?’
Bryce slugged him on the arm. ‘Yes, here, and with other halves who tolerate us for more than five minutes rather than, I dunno, in the bloody nuthouse.’
‘And why the hell wouldn’t they?’ Gideon demanded. ‘Beneath all the bullshit, we’re fucking awesome.’
I laughed.
Bryce joined in.
Gideon chuckled.
In that flawless moment, I realised I did indeed have more room.
For infinite love.
If you loved Driving Him Wild, look out for
the other books in Zara Cox’s The Mortimers:
Wealthy & Wicked miniseries
Worth the Risk
Pleasure Payback
Her Every Fantasy
Available now from Harlequin DARE.
Dare to read more sexy stories! Check out our other Harlequin DARE titles, available now:
Bad Boss by Jackie Ashenden
Taming Reid by J. Margot Critch
Pure Temptation by Rebecca Hunter
Keep reading for an excerpt from Taming Reid by J. Margot Critch.
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CHAPTER ONE
REID REXFORD RAISED the glass to his lips and tasted the amber liquid it held. Up until that moment, the tres leches cake had been the best thing he’d tasted that night, but his cleaned plate lay forgotten on the table next to the unlabeled bottle of rum that Gemma had brought. They were preferred customers at the Cuban restaurant owned by his close friend, Arlo. And for a good deal on Rexford Rum for his restaurant, Arlo gave them a great table every time they came in and allowed them to do such things as open their own bottle of Gemma’s newest concoction at their table.
Reid took another small sip, and this time held it in his mouth, rolling the rum around, savoring the intricacies and the layers of the flavor on his tongue. It was smooth, delicious. He tasted it again, as his brother Quin did the same, this time taking a moment to inhale over the rim of the glass, pulling the scent into his lungs—it was dark, sweet, but spicy, with notes of cardamom, cinnamon, and something else he couldn’t yet place. It was absolutely exquisite. He winked at his sister. She had really outdone herself this time.
“Well?” Gemma asked, her eyes wide with anticipation for their opinions. “How does it taste?”
He shrugged casually. “It’s pretty good,” he said, putting the glass down. A clatter from the kitchen briefly muted their conversation.
Reid looked at Quin, who drank from his glass again and also put on a casual demeanor in an attempt to needle their younger sister.
Gemma’s smile dropped. And Reid knew her well enough to tell that their nonchalance clearly annoyed her. “Come on, guys,” she said. “This is one of the best batches I’ve ever made, and you both know it. What do you mean, it’s just good?”
Reid laughed, and put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her lightly. He knew how important the quality of her rum—and his opinion of it—was to her as she’d meticulously worked on the recipe for months, perfecting the proper blend of spices, making sure it would be just right before it had even been mixed, distilled and barrel-aged. The bottle they were tasting was a product of her love and dedication that had been more than five years in the making. “We’re messing with you, Gem. It’s delicious! You’re right—one of your best yet.”
She smacked his shoulder, took the glass from his fingers and sipped it herself. His sister’s satisfied smile spoke volumes to Reid. Gemma, a perfectionist, who was rarely fully satisfied with the finished product, was proud of her newest rum.
“How’d you make it?” Quin asked, pouring a little more from the bottle into his glass.
“The short answer is I cut the cane sugar with honey and then added more later in the process, and I used those cognac barrels I picked up in France last year. Plus a few more special touches here and there.” She winked.
“Honey?” Reid started calculating cost per bottle formulas in his head as he swirled the glass in his hand, watching as the legs of the liquid—thick and rich—trailed down the sides. “Sounds expensive,” he noted with a frown, recalling the recent
