Moment of Weakness: One Moment, Book 1 Read Free Page B

Logan’s cheeks. “Shit.” He tripped over his chair in his haste to get to his phone. “Shit. Shit. Shit !” Logan tapped furiously at the screen and ran out of the restaurant.
    Marcus was still smiling smugly when his perfectly cooked steak arrived. Victory never tasted so sweet, and as the first forkful melted away like butter, he allowed his gaze to drift to the bar.
    By the look of the drink Abby was currently pouring down her throat, she wasn’t consulting tea-leaves over the sudden downward turn in her love life. Marcus frowned. In her current mood, who knew what she might get up to? Already there were a couple of seedy-looking barflies eyeing her as an easy target. And if she was stupid enough to fall for Logan’s sleazy pick-up lines…
    Marcus finished his meal, ignoring the wine to drain his glass of water. He’d need all his wits about him tonight. So would Abby. He made his way to the far end of the bar. Perhaps it was time to have a quiet word with the bartender.
    Abby was nowhere near drunk enough, and it wasn’t from lack of trying. The margarita slid down her throat very nicely, thank you —the perfect complement to the high-pitched hiss of dissatisfaction screwing with her insides. But either her anger was burning through the alcohol or she was drinking sugar-water.
    Logan. That fucker. Bitterness twisted Abby’s stomach, fusing it together with the citrusy burn of her lime-laden drink. She picked up her glass to belt back the last few swallows and looked around for the bartender to signal another.
    Damn. Not nearly enough kick. Her body was fizzing, but not from the margaritas. Or the anger. Nope. Her hormones hadn’t got the message they were back on standby yet. Simply put, Abby was horny as hell—hot and ready. Promises had been made.
    She scowled at the key card to the room she should be up in, getting the kinks knocked off the corners of her sexual frustration. With Logan, who’d probably scuttled back to his fiancée by now…Abby had briefly toyed with the idea of ringing his babe, Madison, and introducing herself. Poor thing. No one deserved to be cheated on.
    But then, men were all the same, weren’t they? Too scared to admit monogamy didn’t work. So busy hiding their infidelities from the ones they were supposed to love, they missed seeing what love really was.
    Like Nathan. If he hadn’t wanted to marry Abby, why couldn’t he have just manned up and told her? But no, he’d cheated on Abby for a year—with her sister, and everyone else in her family had known. Her own mother had never told Abby. One word, one hint, one little clue about what was happening and she might’ve been able to forgive them. Instead, they’d taken everything she’d ever loved and destroyed it.
    The familiar weight of hurt and anger sat just as heavily on Abby’s chest as it had three years ago. She picked up her fresh glass and tipped it back, willing the alcohol to strike and soothe the burn of betrayal. Half of her drink disappeared before she noticed someone had sat on the barstool beside her.
    Great. Another asswipe come to try his luck while his wife no doubt waited at home. Not this time. Abby swiveled on her stool, prepared to shoot down whoever it was with her dead-man stare. Instead, she fell straight into a pair of whiskey eyes, shot with a twist of gold and a dash of amusement. Lust stroked twin fingers over her nipples, sliding across her belly and flicked her clitoris.
    Abby smothered her gasp and clamped her thighs together. “What do you want?” She lowered her brow into a scowl.
    “I want to know the rules.” Marcus’s stare was dark and intense as if he saw right through her. There was no mistaking his meaning.
    The rules? Abby’s mouth dropped open. Of her game? Once again she was reminded of the first time she’d met Marcus and the perceptiveness she’d glimpsed. She’d known then he was not a man to toy with. But the way he was looking at her now…there was no doubt he