Unexpected Wife

Unexpected Wife

Paige Warren

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Ainsley McCullough has been running from her past for a while. When she stumbles across an abandoned farm house, she thinks that maybe things will start to look up. Getting a job in the small Texas town, she's surprised to learn the man who owns her home is in jail.

Braedan O'Connor was falsely accused of a crime and has spent the past year in jail. He's anxious to get home and see what kind of damage has been done to his home.

When Braedan enters his home and smells homemade apple pie, he's surprised to say the least. Spotting the woman responsible for the mouth watering smell, all of his senses come alive.

Ainsley hadn't expected to get caught in the man's home. Face to face with the handsome stranger, she isn't sure what to expect. Knowing he was in jail frightens her, almost as much as his good looks turn her on. What price will she have to pay for invading his home?
 

 
PUBLISHED BY: Wild Horse Press
ISBN: 1448686008
PUBLICATION DATE: 2009
WORD COUNT: 15000
SEXUAL CONTENT RATING: 3 3 3
EBOOK READER RATING:
CATEGORIES: Romantic Fiction, Contemporary, Romantic Suspense
KEYWORDS: Paige Warren, Texas, Abused Woman, Convict, Romantic suspense, contemporary romance
 

EBOOKS BY Wild Horse Press

EBOOKS BY Paige Warren

 
EXCERPT
COPYRIGHT Paige Warren/2009

Blood stained hands gripped the steering wheel of the old truck, the
knuckles white from the death-like grip. A storm raged outside, rain
beating against the windshield, wind trying to force the truck off the
road. Following the winding country road, Ainsley searched for a place
to take shelter for the night.
She paused on the road staring down a long drive to an old
farmhouse. No lights shown from within and no cars were in sight. The
peeling paint and overgrown yard gave it an abandoned feel. Turning
the wheel, she pulled down the bumpy drive hoping her truck wouldn’t
get stuck in the mud.
Pulling to a stop in front of the ramshackle house, Ainsley killed the
engine. She grabbed the small bag on the seat beside her and opened the
door. Making a run for it, she dashed through the mud and rain to the
front porch.
The front door was crusted with dirt, the window cracked. Ainsley
knocked on the door. When no one answered, she tried the knob. It
stiffly turned in her hand, rust rubbing off on her skin. She leaned into
the door until it popped open with a groan.
Closing the door against the violent weather outside, she looked
around. Dust and cobwebs clung to nearly every surface. The banister
on the stairs looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Stepping into
the small sitting room, Ainsley ran her hands over the cloth covered
furniture. The sofa and chair loomed like ghosts in the dark room, the
lightning outside the only illumination in the house. Curtains hung from
the windows in tatters.
Ainsley walked to the wall and flicked the light switch on, hoping for
a miracle. Nothing happened. She hadn’t really expected the lights to
work, but it would have been nice.
Turning from the room, she walked up the stairs, the ancient boards
creaking under her feet. She took her time, testing the boards as she
went, not wanting to fall through if any were weak or broken. When
she reached the landing, she walked into the first room on her right.
An old brass bed hugged one wall, a dresser sat across from it. The
linens on the bed were dusty and aged. The wallpaper was peeling off
the walls, brittle in spots.
Walking back to the landing, she pushed open the door to the next
room. It was a small bathroom with grimy black and white tile. A claw
foot tub sat against the left wall, dirt encrusted, with a rust stain around
the drain. The sink fared no better with cobwebs dangling from the rim.
Holding her breath, Ainsley stepped into the room. She turned the
knob on the sink. A bark of laughter broke free when the water came on.
It oozed out, brown and rusty at first, but after another minute began
running clean and clear. She could bathe! With another glance at the
tub she grimaced. Well, she could clean the tub then she could bathe.
Dropping her bag on the floor, she turned on the water in the tub.
Kneeling on the dirty floor, she used her hands to wipe the grime from
the tub. An old fashioned shower head hung above her. She only hoped
it worked.
Once the tub was relatively clean, she opened the bathroom cabinet
in hopes of finding towels. They were a little dusty, but had been rather
well preserved by the airtight space they were stored in. Pulling out a
dark towel, she placed it on the floor to use as a bath mat.
Unbuttoning her top, she eased it from her body, wincing as her
wounds pulled, reopening a few. She kicked off her boots and shimmied
out of her jeans. Turning on the shower, she waited for her skin to
become numb to the cold water.
Ainsley stepped into the tub and let the water wash away the blood
and dirt from the past twenty-four hours. She sank to her knees in the
bottom of the tub and cried, her tears mingling with the water running
down her face.
“Why Andrew?” she whispered. “Why did you do it?”

 
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