by CC MacKenzie
BREAK THE RULES
A Ludlow Nights Romance: Book 3
by CC MACKENZIE
BREAK THE RULES - COPYRIGHT
Copyright © CC MacKenzie 2017
CC MacKenzie has asserted her right to be identified
as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of the publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, imaging, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
ISBN: 9781909331464
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by More Press
Cover Design by Gabrielle Prendergast
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CC MACKENZIE is a USA Today bestselling author.
CC writes fast paced, sexy, contemporary romance with unforgettable characters.
Born in Scotland, she could write her name when she was three and excelled in English. In spite of failing Math, she went on to a successful career in International Banking specializing in trade finance, which just goes to show Karma has a hilarious sense of humour. Once upon a time, she was dared to dance with cheer leading pompoms to Love Shack by the B-52's on top of a moving truck. She did and she has the pictures to prove it.
Readers have dubbed her books, "made me laugh and made me cry," "hot," "page turners" – all of which have delighted her enough to put in her bio, but humbled her enough not to tell her H in case he wants to bring her down a peg or two and make her do her own laundry.
If you meet CC in the flesh, you should call her Christine.
Christine loves to hear from her readers.
You can find her at:
For Other Books By CC Click Here
Website
http://ccmackenzie.com/
Facebook
http://www.facebook.com/CCMzie
Twitter
https://twitter.com/CCMacKenzie1
Email
[email protected]
BREAK THE RULES - INTRODUCTION
Sean Kennedy had a simple rule when it came to women—
if they were hard work—
he didn't bother.
Why put himself through unnecessary hassle?
And then he met a blonde bombshell...
From the moment Sean Kennedy frisked T.C. he captivated her. The look in the bodyguard's tawny eyes for her was too intense, insanely sexy and dominant. He was a powerful man who towered over everyone. And a man who believed he could have anything and anyone. Despite T.C.'s reservations, she had a night of passion with him. A night which brought the demons of her past into her present and her future.
Demons that have no intention of ever letting her go.
But Sean was a man prepared to fight dirty for the woman he wanted.
And a man who'd never lost a battle—yet.
BREAK the RULES is the third installment of THE LUDLOW NIGHTS series. It can be read as a standalone. But, to fully appreciate Sean and T.C.'s story, I recommend combining the reading experience with HIS RULES and HER RULES.
“She is beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is woman, and therefore to be won.”
William Shakespeare
TABLE OF CONTENTS
BREAK THE RULES
BREAK THE RULES - COPYRIGHT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BREAK THE RULES - INTRODUCTION
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
LUDLOW NIGHTS - HIS RULES:BOOK 1:CHAPTER ONE
OTHER BOOKS AVAILABLE BY CC MACKENZIE
KEEP IN TOUCH
CHAPTER ONE
"You have the luck of the Irish, alright. It is not every day a man saves two lives, is hit by a bus and survives to tell the tale."
Propped up on pillows in his hospital bed, Sean Kennedy eyed the tall, blonde bombshell.
Theresa Catliff was a stunner all right and mouth-wateringly gorgeous. Today, she wore a floaty summer dress the color of her eyes, a vivid violet. She seemed to have an unending collection of floaty dresses. The way the fabric tightened against her superb breasts, he was sure they were designed to test a man. The dress had little shoestring straps. Little straps that might take a man mere seconds to untie. Her smooth skin had been kissed by the sun.
Sean closed his eyes, not only against the agony of his ribs, but the ache between his legs. He was assigned to protect the head of Ferranti Communications, Anastacia Morgan, fiancée of Italian soccer star, Olivier Conti. And in that role he'd saved Anastacia and her friend Danni. Hence the part where he'd been hit by a bus and was now lying in a hospital bed in Paris. Fortunately for him he hadn't broken anything. But, he'd ended up with a concussion and banged up ribs.
Theresa, aka T.C., was one of Anastacia's best pals and the bane of Sean's existence.
For six days she'd taken on the role of his fake fiancée.
He'd been out of it when, in order to gain access to his room, she'd lied to the medical staff and told them she was his bride-to-be. On day one, she'd pitched up in his room with a silver “Get-Well-Soon” balloon and an enormous purple teddy bear. The bear's maniacal grin had seriously freaked him out during a delirium caused by his bump on the head. Then she'd proceeded to have an argument with his doctor —in horribly bad French—about pain medication. She appeared to have the uncanny knack of being able to tell, simply by looking at him, he was in pain.
Although Sean didn't believe in the existence of magic, he'd begun to wonder if she was a witch.
Six days later and the woman had his entire medical team eating out of her hand.
Seemed she'd taken to the role of a loving, caring fiancée like the proverbial duck to water.
As he opened his eyes and examined her flawless face, her dancing blue eyes held their usual challenge. He swore that when he was back on his feet, he'd kiss the very breath from that voluptuous body. "I thought you'd have gone home today with your little pals."
In response to his cranky tone, her eyes narrowed in a long and very slow study of his face.
A study that saw too damn much.
"Didn't take your pain meds again. Did you?"
Yup, definitely a witch.
"They make me feel as if I'm floating."
"Better floating than being a bad tempered growly bastard. I pity the poor nursing staff around you, I really d
o." She dropped a leather bag the size of a small town on a visitor chair, moved towards his bedside cabinet and opened the top drawer to rummage around his personal stuff. When the scent of her slid around his senses, warm woman, shampoo and summer, Sean closed his eyes to enjoy the moment. Christ, she smelled incredible. When she didn't find what she was looking for, she turned to him, held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. "Gimme."
Wincing, he slid his hand beneath his pillow, found two pills and told himself the only reason he was giving in without a fight was because the pain in his ribs hurt like hell.
He dropped the pills into her palm.
"Stop being such a man, Sean. Don't you understand that if you don't take these you won't get enough rest to heal?"
He knew he'd received a head injury that may make a person feel as if they're having out of body experiences, but he found it beyond weird that Theresa Catliff was acting as if she gave a hot damn about him. Before he'd been hit by a bus, she'd made it clear, to put it mildly, he was not her favorite person. The idea struck him that perhaps her daily visits to make sure he was alive was a gratitude thing. And didn't that make him feel sick to the stomach, disappointed and downright pissed off?
"Why do you care?" he growled.
Her brows rose. "Hell if I know. If you carry on with the bad attitude, I won't give you your present. Open up." She poured a glass of water, popped the pills into his mouth and watched him wash them down.
Her full lips, painted a glossy red, twitched when he poked out his tongue to prove it.
Christ, now he was behaving like a three-year-old.
He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent.
Truth be told, he was too fucking exhausted to care or to fight with her.
When gentle fingertips brushed his hair back from his forehead, Sean's eyes blinked wide open. He stared into hers and believed he caught a tender look in those baby blues that reminded him of his mother when he'd had mumps. The look was gone in an instant as if it had never been. Sean decided he was hallucinating because to compare the blonde bombshell with his sturdy but loving Irish mother was plain crazy.
However, the pain meds were kicking in.
He closed his eyes and took a careful deep breath to inflate his lungs, something his physio had told him was crucial to ward off bugs like pneumonia. His groan of agony was heartfelt.
It was pure shock, when her mouth whispered over his and it hit him with the force of a tsunami.
His heart pounded in his ears and his dick snapped to attention as if it was eighteen again.
He squeezed his eyes tight shut because there was no way a sissy cotton hospital gown and single blanket would hide his body's betrayal.
"Oh, my good Lord," the witch whispered.
Oh Lord, indeed, Sean thought viciously.
The strong hand clamped on her neck kept her in place while Sean (there was no other word for it) ravaged her mouth.
T.C. had been kissed too many times to count, but she'd never been kissed like this, as if he wanted to take the breath from her lungs. To steady herself, the last thing he needed was her landing on top of him. Her hand on his thigh made him moan into her mouth. The sight of his epic erection had got her all hot and bothered, as her tight nipples and the ache between her legs could attest.
And since she wasn't a woman to pass up such an amazing opportunity, T.C. slid her hand up the blanket to stroke him. Good God, he was hard as steel and thick and long. When his hand on her neck slid to her shoulder to push down the strap of her dress, she shifted back a little to watch his face. His eyes were closed. Heat slashed across amazing cheekbones. His breathing was hectic. He hadn't shaved for a few days and the tawny scruff made him look like a sex God. Apart from a thin white scar which ran from eye to mouth, his skin was clear and tanned and pulled tight across the peaks and dips of his facial bones. He had a wonderful strong jaw. Manly. And still she stroked him in a regular rhythm that made his thigh muscles tighten.
He was close.
A little voice asked her what the hell she thought she was doing.
The man was hurt.
She released him and his head fell back on the pillows.
His hand slid beneath the blanket to grip his erection.
Seemed Sean wasn't at all shy about pleasuring himself in front of a woman.
Fair enough.
She moved to the door to lock it, and turned to find those tawny cat eyes fixed on her.
The look in those intense eyes were so filled with need and lust that her whole body trembled.
"Let me see your ribs," she said. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Sean."
In response, he shoved down the blanket and lifted his hospital gown.
"Are you up for a ride, Theresa?"
Her eyes went wide.
Oh.
My.
God.
To the left of a glorious six pack, his flesh was black and blue.
But it was the heavy erection gripped in his fist that held her attention.
He was a beautifully proportioned man.
And she wanted him, all of him, inside her.
Now.
Moving towards her bag, she kicked off her shoes, rummaged until she found an unopened box of condoms and then turned to him.
She ripped open the package. "I want to make it clear this is a one-time only thing."
He watched her through lazy eyes as she stepped out of her thong. "Whatever you say."
She straddled him on the bed, her body slick and ready to take him.
When she slid on protection, his breath hissed from his throat.
Her eyes narrowed on his. "Don't move. I'll do all the work. If I see you in pain I'll stop."
Hands fisted at his sides, his eyes never left hers as she positioned herself and took him in nice and easy and deep. Pleasure had her close her eyes at the way he stretched her, filled her.
He lasted for seven slow and easy pumps of her hips and then erupted.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Heat of mortification crept up his chest, into his neck and up into his face.
"It's been a while," he croaked.
"Hmm," she said, and then examined the evidence for herself.
He'd overflowed the condom.
She should have bought XXL.
Good job she was on the pill to regulate her periods.
Well, these things happened.
It wasn't the best sex she'd ever had, but she'd enjoyed the unique feel of him.
It didn't take her long to dispose of the evidence and clean him up.
She stepped into her thong and her heels fully aware his gaze never once left her flushed face.
With her heart going crazy in her chest, T.C. found she couldn't meet his eyes.
"Once I'm on my feet again, I'll prove to you I can do much better than that."
As she slung her bag over her shoulder, she turned to him and beamed. "How did you like your present?"
He blinked. "You planned this?"
"I've always wondered what it would be like with you. Now I know." She unlocked the door and turned to give him an impertinent finger wave. "Get well soon. Bye."
And left.
Sean stared helplessly at the door.
If Theresa Catliff thought she could waltz into his hospital room, seduce him and then waltz right out again, she had another think coming.
CHAPTER TWO
Six weeks later...
Sitting behind her swanky desk in a swanky office befitting her role as Chief Executive Officer of Ferranti Communications, Anastacia Morgan was dressed to kill in a soft black pants suit and nude five inch heels. A girl who considered herself vertically challenged needed all the help she could get. Her hair, a river of inky curls, flowed down her back. On the ring finger of her left hand sat an eye-popping jewel she considered totally over the top. However, the love of her life had chosen it, so she'd wear it.
At the moment, she ty
ped a response to an email from her boss, Nico Ferranti, regarding the Rome video shoot for the new Ferranti Boutique Hotel starring Ana's brand new fiancé, Italian soccer star, Olivier Conti.
Due to an unfortunate sickness, the film director was suffering from complications of adult chickenpox, the whole thing had been delayed by four weeks, much to Nico's irritation.
Ana was beginning to think the whole advertising campaign for the Ferranti Boutique Hotels was jinxed. If it wasn't one thing it was another. At least the Paris promotion looked amazing, in spite of all the drama they'd gone through. She could only hope the Rome shoot would look as good, once they'd got it in the bag.
Dressed in skinny blue jeans, a pale pink ribbed T-shirt and matching soft leather ballet flats, her best friend, Danni Pebbles, sat cross legged on a long white leather sofa. A silver pen tucked behind her ear, her fingers danced over the keys of her laptop. And all the while she was muttering under her breath, something about fabulous shoes and that cranberry was the color for winter. Ana was so proud of her bestie. Her fashion blog had over three million hits this year, which meant big advertising revenue for Danni.
Ana peered at Danni over her black framed reading glasses. "Have you noticed T.C.'s gone quiet," she said, referring to the third person in their best friend troika.
Eyes on her laptop screen, Danni nodded. "Uh-huh. I think she has an issue with your Sean."
Ana adored the head of her protection team.
In Paris, Sean had saved the lives of Ana and Danni from a stalker and nearly lost his own in the process. He was also a man who didn't put up with anyone with a bad attitude, or a potty mouth. And since T.C. had both, things tended to be tense between them.
Ana's head came up. "Sean? He doesn't come back to work until next week. What's her beef with him now?"