Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 166103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 831(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 831(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
“No, and I thought that I’d go for a run since I’m awake. Only there seems to be a problem.”
“You can’t run around by yourself in Escana,” Grumpzilla told her.
“Why not?” He still hadn’t really explained.
“It’s not permitted.”
“That wasn’t in the information packet we were given. Or that two-hour briefing you gave us.”
“It was twenty minutes at most,” he muttered, looking offended again.
“I really can’t go running?” How the heck was she going to survive her stay here if she couldn’t run? Sometimes she thought it was the only thing keeping her sane.
She relaxed by running herself into the ground. Until all the nervous energy was drained out of her and her brain emptied.
“Actually, ma’am—” Beck started to say.
Urgh.
“Chloe,” she interjected.
“Chloe.” He gave her another polite smile and she barely bit back a sigh. “There’s no problem with you going for a run, but I’m afraid that going alone is an issue. At least if you’re planning to leave palace grounds. As we explained in the security briefing, in Escana, women are usually escorted by one of their men or a guardian.”
“Of course, I remember.” She wasn’t sure that she did. She might have blanked out after the first thirty minutes. “That’s why I was only going to stick to palace grounds.”
Total lie.
But she was confident that they wouldn’t be able to tell. She’d been lying successfully to Jonathan for years. Every time the asshole drank gin, he got all dark and depressed. Then he’d start asking her if she hated him.
What she felt for Jonathan . . . it was messy. She both hated him and felt indebted to him. He’d saved her and enslaved her.
Grumpzilla scowled. “You’re lying.”
She tried hard not to gape at him. There was no way he knew.
“Prove it.” She arched a brow.
Beck cleared his throat. “If she’s not going off palace grounds, then there isn’t a problem, is there, Judd?”
“It’s dark.”
Not exactly. The sun had risen further, giving the place a soft glow. It would soon get too warm for her to run.
And she really had to get out of here. The need was getting overwhelming. Like hundreds of ants marching across her skin.
“If I wait much longer, it will be too hot,” she said. “Can I go now if I promise to stick to palace grounds?”
Cool. Calm. Collected.
That was her motto.
“Yes,” Beck replied.
“No,” Judd said at the same time.
This guy was killing her.
3
Both she and Beck stared at Judd.
“Yes, ma’am, I mean, Chloe, it’s fine. Isn’t it, Judd?” Beck elbowed the other man on his side.
Judd didn’t flinch even though it seemed like Beck hadn’t held back.
“No,” Judd stated.
She didn’t know who’d pissed in his cornflakes this morning, but he didn’t get to take his attitude out on her.
“Don’t worry. I’m not in the mood for a run anymore. If you’ll excuse me,” she said to Beck.
“You’re not ex—”
She shut the door on whatever Grumpzilla had been about to say. She wasn’t interested. Instead, she turned and glared at the room.
Too much. This was too much.
The itch across her skin was getting worse.
She spotted the internal door that led into the palace.
Well, surely there wasn’t anyone guarding that door, right? If there was, she might have to mention to Jonathan that rather than being protected, they seemed to be under guard.
But why? Did Prince Kassim not trust them? He’d seemed friendly enough last night, if a little distant. Despite his annoyance at the way he’d been treated, Jonathan had been at his charming best, and she’d thought the Prince had been friendlier by the end of dinner.
Although it had seemed a bit odd that they’d eaten with only him and not the rest of the Princes and their intended.
She’d been kind of looking forward to meeting Pippa, the commoner who was about to be a princess. But apparently, the Princes were notoriously overprotective of her.
Did she have time to check her appearance? God, she never used to be like this. It was a nervous tick. After years of Jonathan drumming into her that she had to be careful how she represented him . . . she was left with this nervous habit of checking her appearance all the time.
She stopped briefly in front of a mirror. Okay, she was fine. She was going for a run, not to a meeting with one of the Princes. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have make-up on or that her hair was slightly messy.
Her stomach still bubbled nervously, but she ignored it.
Moving to the door, she unlocked it before carefully opening it. She felt like she was doing something naughty and her Little side welled up, wanting to giggle in delight.
She shoved that side of herself down. Way down. She’d learned to keep her Little locked away.
Because Jonathan could never know. He’d use it against her.
Just like every other weakness was used to control her.