Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Shhh, I got you…I got you,” he whispered close to my ear. “I’ll always come for you.” In between kissing me, he muttered some more nonsense I couldn’t make out––something about handcuffing me to him, I think.
I wiped my snotty, teary face in his shirt. “You know I didn’t mean a word I said to you the other day.”
“When I got back in the car, I realized you mentioned wine and I knew something was wrong. I know you love me. I know you wouldn’t hurt me like that…I trust you with my heart.” Still recovering from a mix of adrenaline and fear, his voice was gruff. A shiver rocked my body. He unzipped his down jacket and wrapped it around the both of us, cocooning me in his warmth and reassurance.
A minute later I was hooked up to an IV while I rested in Sebastian’s lap and closed my eyes, drawing strength from the man I loved, my home––the only place I belonged was with him.
“How did you find me?” I asked. I was awed by my good fortune. It was almost too good to be true. After a pause he answered, “The cross.”
“My cross?” I asked, more confused than ever. “What does my cross have to do with it?” In reflex, my hand went right to my breastbone and found empty space. “Alek took it.”
“There’s a chip imbedded in the platinum frame––a tracking device.”
As the knowledge began to seep into my tired brain and register, I looked up with a mixture of amusement and outright fury that had me wavering between laughing and punching his lights out. He had the grace to look sheepish.
“You’ve been tracking me all this time?” I asked, downright incredulous. Did I want to be mad about it? Yes. But there was also no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for his possessive tendencies, and questionable tactics. “You psychotic, control freak…”
“Your psychotic, control freak,” he murmured in a low sexy voice, interrupting my quiet tirade. “You own me, baby. All of me––even the psycho parts. For better or worse, remember?”
I looked up into his solemn face. Sweet, impossible man. Everyone defines love in his or her own way. Through trial and error, pain and pleasure, together we’d decided that our love was going to be defined as unconditional, beyond measure…no matter what.
“I love you, my psychotic control freak.”
“I love you more,” he mouthed quietly.
Tired beyond anything, all I wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed, and let him hold me. Unfortunately, I had a nagging suspicion that we would be spending hours getting debriefed by Interpol.
Ben walked up and inspected my person, his head shaking. “She needs to get checked out at a hospital.” He directed this at Sebastian as if I wasn’t standing between them.
“I’m fine,” I cut in.
“And you’re needed at headquarters,” Ben continued.
“The fuck, I am.” Before the words were out of his mouth, he was already pulling me away, out of the musty, cold house.
“Where are you going?” Ben shouted in exasperation.
“Home. So I can make sweet, sweet love to my wife.”
“Wishful thinking. We’re at least sixteen hours away by car,” I reminded him. At this, he smirked.
“Don’t ever underestimate me, lover.”
No…I would have to be a total idiot to ever underestimate this man. The look on his face told me not to bother arguing.
Outside, the sunlight was blinding. My eyes narrowed into two slits. I trudged through the mud slowly while Mr. Six Foot Three pulled me along. He finally gave up. Hooking his arm under my legs, he carried me the rest of the way, overriding my very vocal objection.
The rhythmic beating of helicopter blades gained my attention. It was sitting in an open field, next to the house.
“But what about––” I stuttered. He held the door open and pushed me into the back of the helicopter while Bear, sitting in the pilot seat, looked over his shoulder wearing a big fat smile on his face.
“Uh uh, nothin’ and I mean nothin’ is going to stop me from getting you home and gettin’ inside you,” he drawled in my ear, his accent as thick and sweet as honey. “First, a quick pit stop to see Yannick and get you checked out.”
I stared into the eyes of my best friend, my lover, my partner in crime––my lighthouse in this crazy storm that was my life. I crawled onto his lap, wrapped my arms around his neck, and raked my fingers through his hair. “I know what we could make,” I murmured provocatively.
His lips hooked up on one side and his head tilted, his eyes burning with mischief. “What’s that, darlin’?” he said, brushing my dirty, matted hair back and tucking it behind my ear.
“A baby.”
I should’ve known better than to pose it as a challenge.