Theirs to Keep - A Reverse Harem Romance
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
1 - Karissa
2 - Karissa
3 - Bryce
4 - Karissa
5 - Karissa
6 - Karissa
7 - Karissa
8 - Karissa
9 - Karissa
10 - Bryce
11 - Karissa
12 - Camden
13 - Karissa
14 - Karissa
15 - Karissa
16 - Karissa
17 - Karissa
18 - Roderick
19 - Karissa
20 - Karissa
21 - Karissa
22 - Karissa
23 - Karissa
24 - Bryce
25 - Karissa
26 - Camden
27 - Karissa
28 - Karissa
29 - Karissa
30 - Karissa
31 - Roderick
32 - Karissa
33 - Karissa
34 - Karissa
35 - Karissa
36 - Karissa
37 - Bryce
38 - Karissa
39 - Karissa
40 - Karissa
41 - Camden
42 - Karissa
43 - Karissa
44 - Karissa
45 - Karissa
46 - Karissa
47 - Karissa
48 - Roderick
49 - Karissa
50 - Karissa
51 - Karissa
52 - Karissa
Epilogue
One Lucky Bride
About the Author
Theirs to Keep
A Reverse
Harem Romance
Krista Wolf
Copyright © 2020 Krista Wolf
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without prior consent of the author.
Cover photography by: Wander Aguiar
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~ Other Books by Krista Wolf ~
Quadruple Duty
Quadruple Duty II - All or Nothing
Shared
Snowed In
Unwrapping Holly
Protecting Dallas
The Arrangement
Three Alpha Romeo
What Happens in Vegas
Sharing Hannah
Unconventional
Saving Savannah
The Christmas Toy
The Wager
The Ex-Boyfriend Agreement
One Lucky Bride
Theirs To Keep
Chronicles of the Hallowed Order
Book one: Ghosts of Averoigne
Book two: Beyond the Gates of Evermoore
Book three: Claimed by the Pack
One
KARISSA
“We’ve got the plasterers here tomorrow,” I said, “and the plumbers in the morning. The electric should be all roughed out on the east wing already, but contact Marius just to make sure. We can’t be ripping the walls open once they’re stuccoed.”
“No,” my foreman smiled in agreement. “Wouldn’t be good.”
“Also, the HVAC guys need to get this shit all cleaned up before they leave today.” I pointed with my pencil, to where several jagged piles of sheet metal trimmings littered one side of the courtyard. “I saw two of them sneak off for the day already. The rest aren’t leaving until it’s all in the dumpster, though.”
“HVAC. Dumpster.” Oscar scratched at the side of his head. “Right.”
“You writing all this down?”
As usual, Oscar wasn’t writing anything down. That pissed me off, especially since I’d gotten him a new clipboard last week. I’d even threatened to duct tape it to his arm, but my foreman had only laughed.
“Speaking of dumpsters, I need that one emptied,” I said, pointing again. “Should’ve happened yesterday, really. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
“’Yeah’ doesn’t cut it,” I said, noticing he was already looking down again. “Oscar. Hey. Look at me.”
The foreman’s gaze finally swung my way. He stopped scratching at the back of his head.
“Tell me you got it.”
“I got it.”
I nodded one time, firmly, never taking my eyes from his. “Okay, then,” I said warily. “Good.”
Oscar wandered off while I surveyed the rest of the massive worksite. The fifty-five room manor was more like a palace, almost even a castle. At one time it had a name, a history, a purpose. But right now, the only thing that mattered was getting it back into shape.
I made my way along the cobbled courtyard, dodging two groups of roofers and a man running a loader stacked with large clay shingles. A crane was operating on the north side of the property, delivering the stacks up to the roof some fifty feet high.
“Well hello there, boss…”
The voice was deep and beautiful, and immediately changed my mood. Stepping through the next alcove I came face to face with Camden, his arms folded, leaning against a smooth stone wall.
“Boss, eh?” I chuckled. “The three of you are paying me, remember?”
He was wearing his sleeveless shirt again — one of the black ones that hugged his beautifully-sculpted chest. With his arms folded, his biceps and triceps looked absolutely enormous. Like he could crush boulders just by hugging them, or—
“Karissa…?”
I snapped back from whatever daydream I was about to step into. Camden’s gorgeously-stubbled mouth was curled up on one side, his crystal blue eyes piercing me like two shimmering jewels. I felt myself growing warmer, even in the shadows of the alcove.
“Everything alright?”
I pulled out my clipboard and consulted it, temporarily setting my pencil in my mouth. “Peachy,” I mumbled around the writing implement. “Today at least.”
Camden glanced at my list without seeing it and chuckled. His laugh was velvety and masculine. “Good.”
“How about you guys?”
I could see the dirt of the day upon him. Camden’s deeply-tanned arms were covered with light brown hair, and that hair was covered in sawdust. He smelled like all good things: sweat and steel and freshly-cut wood. My gaze wandered down to the worn leather tool-belt, slung low around his waist.
“Can’t complain,” he replied. “Got off to a slow start waiting for an inspector to show up, but we still did a shit-ton of framing today.”
“A metric or an imperial shit-ton?”
His smile widened. “Whichever.”
“It matters, you know.”
“Uh huh.”
Our eyes had found each other’s, and now neither one of us was willing to look away. It was like this often. The flirting happened between our look, our movements, our body language. One day, soon I hoped, it would go even further than that.
“So… you got a guess for me today?” I asked, the pencil still clenched between my teeth.
“Not yet, but Bryce does.”
“And?”
Camden shifted from one foot to the other. “It’s a good one.”
“Okay.”
“I’m hoping he’s wrong of course,” he added hastily.
“Obviously,” I said slyly. “Because then he’d win.”
Camden took a half-step closer. The movement brought our bodies to within a foot of each other. “And I want to win,” he said. His voice dropped even lower. “Badly.”
I took the pencil and casually tucked it behind my ear. “Then make sure you guess correctly.”
“Wanna give me a hint?”
I inhaled, letting his deliciously manly scent wash over me. Basking in the warmth I could feel radiating off of his hard, muscular body.
Hell yeah, I thought to myself. Of course I want to give you a hint…
“No hints.”
Camden’s mouth went tight. “Too bad.” He leaned back against the wall again with an almost imperceptible sigh. “Bryce thinks you