My Bonny Heart (Pirate's Progeny Book 1) by Synclair Stafford Page A

straight, white teeth.
    A charming, all-male grin.
    “Eliza has the children with her in the sitting room.”
    She could have slapped him. She clenched her fists. She could plainly see he knew she expected him to kiss her, and that she was going to allow it; was, in fact, looking forward to it.
    “Oh!” It was as much as she could muster without flying into a rage.
    Instead, she stalked passed him, and stomped as unladylike as she could into the hallway, and down the stairs to the sitting room to find her babies.
    The rascal had turned the tables on her.

Chapter 7
    The next morning, Addison held his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the desk in his warehouse. He’d spent the latter part of last evening, furiously mucking out horse stalls in Cranford Hall’s barns, alongside John, his most able and trustworthy farmhand. John had stayed silent as they worked together to clear out the stalls.
    When a few hours of vigorous labor hadn’t released all of the pent up frustration—and desire from the close call of kissing Anne Morgan against his better judgment—he’d taken to his room and emptied an entire bottle of brandy. He’d awoken to a pounding head and a foggy brain.
    But, had that lessened the thirst for one redheaded, spoiled, tempestuous widow hell-bent on driving him insane? He no longer wanted to entertain the answer.
    Not only did his brain thump behind his skull, but his manhood had been hard and throbbing as well. After a long swim in the creek that ran along his land—land now belonging to him because of his deal with the devil, as he’d like to call William Cormac—he’d calmed his blood, temporarily.
    That left his aching head and trying to make sense of the paperwork involved in trading to new areas of the continent, including India and the West Indies.
    “Are your business prospects so dire as that?”
    Addison lifted his head, winced at the pain shooting through his skull, and grimaced at his friend and fellow merchant.
    “My prospects? Aye. Business? No. It’s doing exceedingly well, if you must know.”
    Henry Iles smiled widely as Addison maneuvered his body into a more businesslike position by sitting up in his chair. Henry’s sun-bronzed hair and blue eyes were an eye-catcher to single and married women alike. His friend stood nearly as tall as Addison, himself, with a lean waist, and well-muscled arms and legs.
    Henry was married, however, and happily. Something that Addison hoped to attain someday.
    He sighed and let his head drop forward again into his hands. He was doomed.
    “Aye, very well indeed. When we begin shipping together next month, we shall both benefit from these prospects.”
    Henry took a seat opposite Addison at the desk.
    Addison looked up slowly and nodded. Henry narrowed his blue eyes, tapped his fingers against one another, and rested his elbows on the arms of the chair. “You look as if you’ve had a rather rough evening, my friend.”
    “Would that I could explain it to you properly, Henry. But, aye. A bottle of brandy will cause a devil of a headache.”
    Addison would have liked to mention the voluptuous body of an ill-tempered widow would also cause a different type of ache, but he kept that to himself.
    Henry’s brows drew together.
    “Bloody hell, old boy. We have been friends going on three years and I’ve yet to see you in this state. What happened?”
    Addison had known Henry since he’d first stepped foot in Charles Town two-and-a-half years before to start his venture. He’d been astoundingly helpful in the purchase of farmland, crops, and everything else he’d needed to be successful. Already a prosperous tobacco merchant, Henry had been in Charles Town for ten years. He’d been a loyal and trustworthy friend to Addison, and he’d come to depend upon Henry quite frequently. Even Henry’s wife, Isabel, had become as close to him as a sister.
    Addison sighed, knowing he’d have to tell Henry sooner rather than later. The gossip would