Broken Promises (The Brianna Lane Series) Read Free

myself, whether it was small or emergency room worthy. I tipped my head back under the steady stream letting the water pour down my face and through my suds-filled hair, momentarily offering me relief. It wasn’t long, however, before my fingers scrambled and I scrubbed my eyes.
    “Argh!” I screamed again.
    The attempt was futile. The soap burned like it was aflame, causing me to scrunch my eyes tighter in the hope of protecting them. I scooped up handfuls of water to soothe the searing pain and groaned as it slowly began to ebb.
    I pulled the slick curtain aside and began feeling around for the towel I knew was there. My fingers felt the soft, fluffy material and I used one hand to grip onto the shower railing as I leaned forward.
    It should have been an easy task—completely manageable, but with my eyes still tightly closed, I couldn’t see how far forward I was leaning. Losing my balance, I slipped and grasped onto the wet plastic curtain.
    It was a painful mistake. I lost my grip and tripped as my feet lifted over the ledge to step out of the shower. In a move that imitated the stunt that had started the whole mess, I thudded onto the cold floor—hard. The elusive towel slipped from the rack above and landed squarely on my head.
    "Just great,” I complained, flinching from the pain. “Can’t wait to see what I do next.” I sat for a moment, softly groaning while I tested my body for which part hurt the most. My inspection was interrupted by the sound of my front door slamming closed.
    I slumped in defeat. I knew who’d entered my apartment and the reaction I’d receive if he found me like this. My clumsiness was a constant source of amusement for him, a real sore point that irked me.
    Taking a deep breath, I blew the strand of wet hair from my eyes, and tried hard not to look pitiful. I could hear Quinn walking through the rooms and imagined him draping his jacket over the couch before seeking me out. It wouldn’t be long until he discovered my awkward position.
    “Bri, where are you? I can see your stuff in the kitchen so I’m assuming you’re in here somewhere . . . hopefully naked.” I heard him mutter the last part softly, finishing the sentence with a chuckle.
    Loud footsteps paused outside the bedroom door, and I could only imagine his disappointed look at finding my bed empty. I wasn’t too worried because sometime tonight, he’d get me there, hopefully kissing away the still present pain.
    “Baby, if I yell out Marco, can you give me a Polo in return?” He was inside the bedroom now, and I made one last-ditch effort to lift myself up from the floor. I was halfway there, bent at the waist, when I heard a low whistle of appreciation.
    “Let me guess . . . Clumsiness 101 strikes again.” Quinn stood at the doorway wearing a cheeky grin, his eyebrows raised in amusement. My predicament was temporarily forgotten at the sight—the man looked sexy as hell.
    With dark hair that always fell across his forehead, he flicked the annoying strands to the side, revealing his heart melting brown eyes. I loved looking into them, finding something new to adore each time, and I would tease him about how long his eyelashes were. He had a perfectly shaped face—chiseled jawline and high cheekbones. He was pure masculinity and when he smiled at me with his full lips, I wanted to drop everything I was doing so I could touch him. He was dangerous to my heart, he was beautiful, and he was all mine.
    I stumbled forward, wanting to hit him for being insensitive, but my body was still sluggish. Concern replaced his cocky smirk and he scooped me up into his arms. Trembling against his strong chest, I knew I was wetting his shirt with the lingering water from my shower, but I didn’t feel guilty—it felt too good.
    My head nuzzled into his neck, relaxing as I let his quiet strength wash over me—his subtle scent mingled with cologne. I snuggled even closer, taking a deep breath, and without thinking, gently nipped