Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“You can go now. The light bulb is changed.”
I know I should get up, but I hold myself there for another second, watching as she swallows, watching her mouth. Memorizing the look in her eyes, and then, when she licks her lips, I get up.
Z might be right after all. She might be too big of a distraction.
Now to figure out what to do with this distraction.
19
Ivy
Only one day passes when I hear the front door opening. I head out of my bedroom and down the stairs. He’s here. Why? Usually, he makes me wait days. When I approach the foyer, I stop, cock my hip, and raise a brow at Cyrus. “For someone who was trying to starve me into submission, you’re doing a horrible job.”
“And why is that?” A ghost of a smirk appears on his handsome face.
My hands rest on my hips before I answer. “Because you are here yet again to feed me.” Then I smile at him, an overly fake one, and his once upturning lip pulls down into a straight line.
“The first thing you have to know about me is if I wanted you submissive, you would be submissive.” The way he says the word submissive should be illegal.
Get a grip, Ivy. Head in the game.
“And the second?”
Then he smiles.
Shit. It’s not a smirk or a grin, but a full smile that makes my heart flutter in my chest. Damn. Why does he have to be so good-looking? No, I chastise myself. He’s not good-looking; he’s evil. The devil. The devil can’t be handsome. Who am I trying to kid? He’s delicious when he looks at me like this. There is an unfamiliar glint to his dark eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“Your smart mouth will get you in trouble.” He starts to walk to the kitchen, and I follow behind like a lost little puppy.
“Yet you’re here, feeding me,” I chide, trying my best to feign indifference to the butterflies now flying in my belly.
He lets out a small chuckle. “Do you have your list of questions handy?” His voice sounds different than normal, and that’s when I realize he’s playing with me. Poking fun at me.
“Was that a joke?” I ask as I take a seat at the table.
He shrugs, moving toward the fridge.
“Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
And I’m going to need you to stop acting like this.
I can handle gruff. I can handle asshole. What I’m not sure I can handle is playful Cyrus Reed.
He’s deadlier than the rest.
“Well, apparently, you bring out all different sides of me.” His tone changes and his eyes darken. I’m not exactly sure what he means.
Not wanting to read more into it, I lean forward, placing my weight on my forearms.
“What language does Cerberus understand?” I ask, changing the topic.
“Is that your question? Because that will cost you a bite.”
It’s probably pretty obvious at this point that he doesn’t need to answer questions for me to eat, but we keep up the pretense anyway.
Not sure why.
Maybe it’s easier for me to talk to him under the guise that it’s for food.
“Done.”
He opens the container he has set on the table and then brings me a fork.
My eyes narrow at the food in front of me. It looks like rice and veggies, but there is a sauce on it.
“What is it?”
“That’s two bites.”
I roll my eyes. Why would I think he would answer? That would be too easy for Cyrus Reed. “Fine.”
“It’s Biryani. A popular Indian dish.”
I take a bite and swallow. It’s delicious, but I won’t tell him that, though.
“Dutch,” he says as I take my second bite.
I quirk my brow at him. No wonder the dog thinks I’m crazy every time I speak. “Dutch?”
“Cerberus is a Dutch Shepard. He’s trained to understand Dutch commands.”
“You speak Dutch?” I ask.
“You don’t?”
“How many languages do you speak?”
He skims his eyes down my body. “All of them.”
“Why?”
“Because of my clients.”
“Well. Um. That’s not helpful at all. I was hoping you would say Spanish.” I take another two small bites. Technically I owe him three, but apparently, he’s not counting. After I swallow, I place my fork down. “Teach me commands for him.”
“That will cost you.”
“Okay . . .” I trail off, afraid of what I’ll have to do.
“You eat the rest of the meal. No more questions. I’ll teach you Dutch, but that’s all I’m answering.”
“Well, that’s not really fair.”
“Life’s not fair.”
I bite my lip, trying to think of a witty response, but when I come up short, he leans forward. “Do we have a deal?”
“No.”
“I’m a fair man. If you want to learn how to command my dog, that is all you will get from me tonight.”
He’s right. He doesn’t answer any important questions anyway. It’s not like I’ll be getting anything else from him.
“Deal.”
Cyrus turns to the center of the kitchen, then sweeps his hand in a half-circle motion in front of his body while saying, “Kom.”