Accidentally...Evil? (Accidentally Yours) Read Online Free Page B

in Cricket-ville. He then went to the pueblo’s small
mercado
and found everything he needed for his special evening, including a bottle of Spanish wine and a matrimonial-sized hammock. The local seamstress had even made him a new linen shirt, right on the spot. Ah, it was good to be the God of Male Virility. Women tripped over themselves to please him.
    But not Maggie. No. She was different.
    He liked that.
    As the sun shed its final rays, Chaam rounded the last small peninsula standing between him and his Maggie. His heart stumbled like a clumsy runner.
    Maggie sat on the edge of the dock, dainty feet dangling in the lake, her long brown hair flowing down her back like a mystical Greek siren’s. Her body, a curvy and voluptuous little package, embodied every feminine characteristic he adored.
    Oh hell.
He looked down at his dauntingly large erection. He’d be forced to take another dip in the lake to cool off as he’d done three times earlier in the day while he’d been waiting for Maggie to wake.
    Or, perhaps, I just needed to see… that.
Chaam cringed.
    Maggie scowled at the giant predator sitting a few yards away, guarding her like a juicy lamb chop. A half dozen other animals had joined in the fun.
    Chaam marched to the mouth of the dock. “I asked you to keep an eye on her, not have a party.”
    The cat made a little hiss, followed by random noises from the monkey, iguana, parrot, and pygmy hog.
    Chaam crossed his arms and glared at the little pig. “You’re on the wrong continent. You know that, don’t you?”
    Snort
.
    “Go!” Chaam barked. “All of you. I don’t have time for this.” He pointed to the small furry pig. “And you! Don’t bother returning; I don’t even speak pygmy hog!”
    Chaam noticed Maggie staring with an expression somewhere between horror and… well, horror.
    Chaam glanced back at the cat. It hadn’t budged a stubborn furry inch. “Fine. Get them out of here, and I will help you tomorrow.”
    The cat smiled—Chaam hated that; it looked so wrong when animals smiled—and quickly disappeared with his entourage.
    Maggie cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “Nice of you to return, Backlum—”
    “Chaam. I go by Chaam.”
    “Savage! That’s what I’ll call you! How dare you! I’m leaving, and don’t you dare try to stop me!”
    “You will stay.” He blocked her from passing.
    “Or what?”
    A mosquito the size of a small rodent perched on her cheek, and without thinking, Chaam swatted it.
    “Ouch!” Maggie fell to the side and cupped her cheek.
    Oh, Christ!
He’d slapped her! Hard.
    He quickly reached for her, but she shirked away.
    “I should have guessed,” she hissed. “You cad!”
    “No! There was a—”
    “You can slap me around all you want,” Maggie stood and closed the gap between them, “but you will never, ever have me. I’ll die before I let you put another hand on me.”
    Chaam growled with frustration. Dammit! This was not how he’d imagined this special evening would begin.
    The madman had slapped her. Actually slapped her! And then he growled! Like a godammed beast. And if he was capable of hitting her to gain submission, then, without a doubt, she was in danger.
    Maggie stepped back and attempted to ignore how the man smelled. Incredible. Like sweet herbs mixed with something dark and dangerous.
    Anise, fennel, black licorice! God, I want a bite. Or a lick. Or a nibble.
    Oh, horse pucky.
Being near him triggered a lapse in sanity—an added bonus to the danger equation.
    Yes, but that vision. That kiss.
    He hit you, and he speaks to animals, Maggie. Hit. Speak. Animals. Bad.
Maggie ground the heels of her palms into her temples.
That’s right. Gather your wits, Margaret O’Hare. It doesn’t matter who or what he is; the man made it clear he intends to keep you prisoner and have his way with you. You. Need. To. Leave.
    Doggone it! All right. Play nice, get his guard down, and make a break for it.
    This was her only choice. After all,