Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 106909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“Ah, yes, the rock star.” I flinched and was about to excuse myself when he ran a finger across the scar on my cheek. “My men haven’t been able to come up with anything. A random burglary gone wrong it seems.”
I raised my brows. “Actually, the police don’t think there was anything random about it and whoever it was knew exactly how to avoid the security cameras in the condo.” I caught Emily’s eye, and she got the hint and started through the crowd toward me. “Listen, Lance, I better go mingle—”
Lance took my hand before I could escape and guided me to the back of the gallery. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I forced a smile as I followed him, my back stiff and my teeth grinding. He led me to the small alcove where I had my largest painting of Havoc hanging. “Lance, I should go—”
He stopped in front of the six foot canvas of Havoc rearing up, dust swirling around her coat and fading from her hooves. “Your best piece. I understand it is of a horse that was shot.”
“Yes. Havoc. But I think—”
He cut me off again and I felt more and more uncomfortable and put my hand on his chest to push him back when he said, “A survivor. Like you.”
My eyes shot to his, not liking the reference to me.
He chuckled, a deep resonating sound that sent shivers through me, and they were nervous shivers. “Yes. I know all about you, Kat.”
I certainly didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ll be moving my pieces out tomorrow morning.”
He didn’t seem at all surprised or concerned. Instead, he stepped toward me and I backed away until I was caught against the wall.
I pushed hard on his chest, not caring that a few patrons saw me do it, then slid out from where he tried to trap me. His hand snaked out and grabbed my arm. “Do you know everything about your boyfriend? ’Cause I don’t think you do. I think he hasn’t told you a single thing about what he was.” I gaped at him then yanked harder, but he kept talking. “I have a hard time believing a beautiful woman like you would be with someone as … soiled as him.”
I gasped, shocked at his insult, and then the rage erupted. I didn’t care if I never sold another piece of art and he blacklisted me. This bastard had no right to say what he just did. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. The sting in my palm felt damn good, and I wanted to do it again when my assault failed to wipe the malicious smirk off his face.
“You bastard.” I raised my arm, but he grabbed my wrist.
I didn’t have to look in order to know he was there. It was so distinct as if every molecule in my body awakened to his presence. And I was glad. I wanted Ream to beat the crap out of him.
Ream’s voice was a low contained anger. “Get your fuckin’ hand off her.” Lance let go putting his hands in the air, smiling. Ream pulled me behind him where Emily stood looking nervous. Logan came to stand beside Ream. They both must have seen me slap Lance, and I suspected from their faces, they heard exactly what Lance said.
“I never fuckin’ liked you. And I certainly don’t like walking in to see you holding my girl while saying shit about me.” Ream’s voice was scarily controlled. “I especially don’t like that she had to slap you to get your hand off her.” Ream was toe-to-toe with Lance “You never deserved her for a fuckin’ second. Her art leaves your gallery tonight.”
Lance didn’t seem at all affected by my scary boyfriend and smiled. But it wasn’t his usual debonair, charming smile. This was tainted. “Deserve? Interesting you should use that word.”
Logan stepped in and grabbed Ream’s shoulder. “Not here. Let it go. This is your girl’s show. Don’t ruin it for her.”
I piped up, “Oh, I don’t give a crap about my show. I just want this bastard’s face—”
“Kat, not the place,” Emily whispered into my ear.
Yeah, she was right. This wasn’t just about me; her clients were here, as well as Brett’s.
Ream suddenly turned, grabbed my hand, linked our fingers, and started pulling me through the patrons. He stopped. “Washroom?”
I pointed to the right and he didn’t say anything as he headed for the hallway.
I glanced over my shoulder and a cool shiver went through me as I caught Lance watching us. And it wasn’t a friendly watch. Then I saw Molly staring at us with a tray of champagne in her hands. Her face wasn’t hidden by her hair, and I saw her eyes narrow and lips pulled tight. She’d obviously heard or seen the exchange between Lance and me. Maybe that girl had some backbone after all.
I tripped in my high heels and Ream steadied me with a hand around my waist, but he didn’t let up until we were locked behind the closed door of the bathroom.
He backed me into the wall, grabbed my chin in a bruising grip, then before I could take another breath, he kissed me. No, it wasn’t a kiss; it was a possession that spun out of control. And God it was hot. He groaned as he gripped my hair and tilted my head back to deepen his kiss.
His body slammed me into the wall, and I gasped at his roughness, but a jolt of pleasure encompassed me. I lifted my leg to rub up against his thigh, and he grabbed my ass and lifted me up so I could wrap both my legs around him. I could feel my skirt stretching across the bridge between us, and all I wanted was to rip it off and have Ream sink inside me.
“Baby,” Ream growled against my mouth causing a sweet vibration.
“You nearly lost it.”
“I didn’t.”
“But I wanted you to.”
He stopped kissing me, grabbed my chin, and we locked eyes. “You did?”