Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Ashley laughed. “You know, I haven’t seen you this happy. The danger aside, your men are so good for you.”
“It was never you, you know that, right?”
“Of course. You were heartbroken. Here try this.” She held the spoon out toward me and I took a sip.
I winced at the sudden hit of heat and spice that burned the back of my throat. She saw my reaction, took a quick taste, and had one of her own.
“Easily fixed. Way too much heat, I need to balance that out. Some lime, methinks.”
I drank some water in an attempt to rid my mouth of the taste. It wasn’t her best. I knew Ashley, she’d get it just right.
Watching her work had always been fun. Her hands cutting, squeezing, sprinkling, stirring, tasting. She always looked off to the right when she assessed the flavor. Her lips pouting as she thought about it.
“It needs a touch more sweetness, and let’s not forget the lime. Yum.” She did that, another stir, and a taste. “Yep, I got it.”
She offered me some and I hesitated. “Come on, Em, you know me.”
“Yeah, and you could be punishing me.”
“I’ve got nothing to punish you for. I’m happy. You’re happy. As far as I can tell, we’re all happy, and don’t have a single reason to hate each other.”
I took a sip and she was right, of course, she was.
“Are you cooking tonight?”
“Is that a question?” she asked, winking at me.
“I don’t know, but who is next?”
She shrugged. “Ask away.”
“Do you want Earl Valentine to be your first?”
She stopped and looked at me.
I didn’t know what it was about my question that had her in such deep thought.
“Yes, Em. I do. I probably should hate him. He kidnapped me. Wasn’t even polite about it. He’s always blunt and to the point. He doesn’t leave anything to chance and he’s been honest with me from the start. Not a lot of guys are like that.”
“True, but you can do better than him.”
“Better than who?” Drake asked, coming into the kitchen. He wore some gym gear, and he’d been working out, even though he should have been on guard duty. He’d left us alone with one of Earl’s men. I wasn’t a big fan of being left alone with an asshole’s minion, but at least I got to spend as much time with Ashley as I could.
“We’re just talking about Earl.”
“I can see that. It smells so damn good in here.” He nudged Ashley out of the way and took the spoon from her, helping himself. He groaned. “How about you marry me?”
“No can do,” she said. “I’m already taken.”
“I think we should steal her,” Drake said, looking toward me.
“I’m with you on that one.”
“What are you two ladies doing for the rest of the day?” Drake asked, already ladling some of the curry sauce into a bowl. I watched as he grabbed some bread and began to dip it into the sauce and eat.
“I’m cooking. This kitchen is the bomb. I’ve missed cooking. Earl doesn’t let me do this on the boat.”
“You call it a boat?” Drake asked.
“It’s what it is.”
“It’s a yacht, Ashley.”
“Don’t care. It is what it is. I don’t have to remember every single little detail, do I?”
Drake shrugged. “When Earl’s done with you, you can always come here and we’d put you up.”
I watched the sadness Ashley quickly tried to hide. Fuck! I had a horrible feeling she was already falling for Earl, and what was worse, he was only going to hurt her.
The bastard.
****
Vadik
I was tired, hungry, and wanted Emily.
She wasn’t in the kitchen. We’d missed dinner, and after Ashley had left with Earl once again, she’d disappeared.
I checked her room, the garden, and as I came to the office, about to head on inside, the soft sounds of a piano playing drew my attention.
Drake had played for her last time, and he’d gone with Caleb to run an errand. Even though we had our fathers to deal with, work itself didn’t stop moving.
We were still the bosses and had to make sure our work didn’t implode on itself.
Emily sat at the piano, alone.
From the haunch of her shoulders, she looked sad. Stepping into the room, I was as quiet as possible, listening to her play.
Her fingers were light on the keys as she moved achingly slowly from one tune into another. When I sat down beside her, she didn’t jolt or act startled.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she said.
“You didn’t. You sound beautiful.”
“I don’t play all that much. I’m not good at it.” She stopped playing, putting her hands between her thighs.
I didn’t understand the sudden change in mood. Reaching between her thighs, I took one of her hands within my own.
“I’m here.”
“I know.”
“What is it you need? Tell me and I’ll try to get it.”