Judge Me, Abby Knox [i love reading txt] 📗

“It’s you!”

I cross my arms in front of my chest. “You know me?” I try not to sound too pleased, sure that I’m failing at that miserably.

She grabs her chest. “It’s a good thing I’m sitting down because if I were standing, I would fall and pass right out!” She has a Southern American accent that’s even more pronounced than it was in the video, and I have to fight the urge to kiss her before she starts babbling.

“Sorry if I startled you. I’m not the best at introductions.”

She struggles to stand, and I feel like an idiot for not realizing right away that she needs help. I grip her arm and assist her to her feet, brushing off the grass from her skirts.

Looking her up and down, she’s even more lovely than I thought possible from her audition video. Her dark hair is done in an elaborate braid around her head. She wears a strange old-fashioned dress with a pinafore over top of it. Her deep brown eyes study me and still appear frightened. That’s the last thing I want. She’s also smaller than I assumed. Shorter and with a soft, feminine little body that I’d love to throw over my shoulder like a Pirate of Penzance and march up to my private rooms right the hell now.

“Chloe Williams?” I say, swallowing the emotions in my throat. Those feelings threaten to destroy me, destroy my entire persona, my reputation. I’m hurtling straight into an affair with a contestant, and no one in all the realm can stop me.

Her sweet, round face breaks into the most heartbreaking smile I’ve ever seen. She lights up the darkness in my soul and threatens to undo all the years I’ve spent building this armor around myself.

“You know me?”

No reason to lie. “Yes. Of course I know you, love. I found your audition video…well, unforgettable is a word that comes to mind. Welcome to Warwickshire.”

Is it possible for that smile to grow any wider? For her face to become even more lovely?

She looks so clueless and innocent; my heart will break if she finds out she didn’t get here on baking merit.

“I’ll have to break you in first.”

She blinks up at me, her lips turning dark pink.

“Excuse me?”

Oh fuck. I’ve said that out loud. I’ve been talking to myself too long.

She doubles over in a fit of giggles. “Be careful around me; I’m likely to use that in a bit.”

A bit? “Forget what I said.”

“I could never. I…I need to confess something. I’ve been watching your show for years and, well, it seems silly, I know, but the truth is…” Chloe’s cheeks blush a shade of pink that rivals my best roses. Her breasts rise and fall rapidly in her nervous, shallow breathing, tempting me with salacious ideas. The size and shape of them will fit perfectly in my hands. My greedy sausage fingers have itched to touch nothing but that glowing skin of hers, to trace my thumb over her lips…and use my other one to viciously strum her to completion. I could make that adorable, unguarded face go taut with lust with one solitary finger. I could grab those curvy birthing hips and make her beg. Oh, and I will. I’m going to ruin this cheery little American tart. She’ll be absolutely wrecked for anyone but me by the time I’m done with her.

Bollocks, where are my manners?

I can’t have her disqualified before the show even begins. “Don’t…don’t finish that sentence. You don’t want me knowing too much about you.”

Her smile never falters; she only takes on an air of curiosity. “Oh?”

“Yes. I am the judge, you know. We shouldn’t even be talking. No fraternizing until…after.”

Her lips part in either shock or disgust.

I reach out toward her and say, “I didn’t mean to offend you. Please don’t take it the wrong way.”

She closes her mouth, and her shining lips curve up in a small, knowing smile. “I could never take anything the wrong way with you, Mr. Wildwood. I think…I think you’re just…just…”

Her face goes slack all of a sudden, and it takes me half a second to realize she’s overcome. I catch her just as her knees give out.

“Are you all right, love?”

Her eyes flutter open, and she smiles up at me.

“Jet lag,” she replies absently, her eyes roving over my lips. God, she can probably see my mouth beginning to drool. I get the distinct impression she’d let me kiss her right now. I’d be a monster if I did it, but it might be worse if I let her go through with the competition.

A man’s voice cuts across the dreamy atmosphere rose garden, and I look up to see my assistant, the executive producer, the director, and my publicist all staring at us—me, with my arms around one of the contestants that I’m supposed to be judging.

“Phillip! They’re, er, all waiting for you in the ballroom,” says the director, Jamie.

“All except one, I see,” Harlow remarks with a smirk.

This doesn’t look good.

Chapter Five

Chloe

Today is day one of shooting: Cookie Day. Or, as I believe they’re called here: biscuits.

I’m so nervous.

I might have made myself more nervous by accidentally meeting the man himself yesterday in the rose garden.

Here’s hoping I didn’t make a terrible first impression. Imagine finding a strange woman asleep in the grass at your house! A contestant, no less, who was supposed to be somewhere else at the time.

My memory wanders back to yesterday, specifically when Phillip caught me in his arms. I’d blacked out from standing up too quickly. He’s bigger, thicker, and stronger than he looks on television. His hair and eyes were twice as vivid in the flesh. My obsession bloomed into real, animal attraction so powerful I could have climbed him like a tree. He and his strong, masculine fingers could have violated me ten ways right there in the grass, and I would have said, “Thank you, sir, may I have some more?”

He’s too big, too