Coerced Kiss (New York Underworld #1) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: New York Underworld Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
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My pride takes a huge knock when I open my mouth and say, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He crosses his arms. “No, you shouldn’t have. We both agree on that.” His smile is evil. “But that’s an agreement, not an apology.”

Taking a deep breath to calm my flaring anger, I say with a hint of defiance I can’t hide, “I’m sorry.”

Approval flashes in his chilling blue eyes. “Apology accepted.” Then, switching from predatory to almost a robotic mode, he checks his watch. “Are you hungry?”

I blink, thoroughly confused by the radical swing in his mood.

“It’s past lunchtime,” he says. “I’ll fix you something to eat, and then you can rest. I have meetings in town, but I won’t be home late.”

“I can make myself something to eat.”

“I don’t mind.” He turns in the opposite direction and heads down the hallway. “Come. I can show you around the kitchen and where to find everything.”

His easy acceptance of my apology throws me off balance. Whenever I told my mom I was sorry for messing up when I was a child, she never simply let it slide. She held each of my mistakes against me indefinitely.

Not having a choice, I do as he ordered and follow him downstairs, pondering this characteristic. Even if I have to admit so grudgingly, I admire the trait.

When we pass the front door, I glance at the window. Two men wearing dark suits stand on the porch with their hands folded behind their backs.

I slow down. “Why are those men in front of the house?” Panic tightens my throat. “Am I a prisoner?”

He stops and turns to look at me. “You’re not a prisoner. They’re here to protect you.”

“From what?” I ask in a hoarse voice.

A beat passes before he speaks. “From my enemies.”

Dear God. I’ll never be safe again. If I’m against Saverio, he’ll kill me. If I’m with him, one of his enemies may, and doing what he does for a living, he must have plenty of rivals.

It didn’t occur to me before that his life may be in danger constantly. The notion terrifies me. Because if something happens to him, I’m dead.

“You’re free to come and go as you please,” he says, cutting into my train of thought. “My driver will take you anywhere you want. His name is Kevin. I saved his number on your phone. A bodyguard will go with you.”

It’s not the bluntness of the declaration that gets to me as much as the reason behind it. I’ll never be able to wake up carefree and breathe easily again. I’ll never be able to walk down the street without looking over my shoulder. I thought bankruptcy was the worst thing that could happen to me, but I was so wrong. Compared to what I face now, money seems trivial. With every step I take from here on, my life hangs in the balance.

My days of freedom are over.

Forever.

Even when the months of living with Saverio come to an end.

Even when he lets me go.

Shit.

My step falters. My knees buckle under the weight of the realization.

In a wink, Saverio is next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to keep me upright. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just a little dizzy,” I say, pushing him away. “It’s nothing.”

Frowning, he clenches his jaw. “Did you have breakfast?”

“Yes.” I wipe a few stray curls from my face. “It will pass.”

He studies me with an intense gaze. “You’re pale.”

“I’m not going to keel over and deprive you of your alibi if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Ignoring my snarky comment, he lifts me into his arms and carries to me the kitchen. Knowing my protest will fall on deaf ears, I wrap my arms around his neck for balance. His chest is hard and warm against me, and the arms around my body are strong. For a fleeting moment, I have a warped urge to burrow into that cocoon of safety if only to hide for a few seconds from the dangers lurking in this new, strange world. It’s a bizarre notion, seeing that the very wall of muscle I want to use as a shield is the cause of my problems and anxiety, but my senses are lulled by the temporary illusion, seduced into a false notion of security.

He deposits me on a stool by an island counter and tests my balance with a hand on my lower back before stepping away. “Maybe I should let someone stay with you when I’m not here, a housekeeper or a cook.”

“That’s absurd.” I look away from his invasive gaze. “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to risk you fainting and falling down the stairs.”

“I won’t,” I say with more force. “I’m not fragile.”

Gripping my chin, he turns my face back to him. “Right now, you are, and that’s not something to be ashamed about. You’re pregnant. Your body is going through a lot of changes. It’ll go through a lot more before the nine months are over.”


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