Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
And that made me…glad?
Glad that I’d provided for her. Male satisfaction that I’d fed her and housed her.
Snagging the soggy slices of tomato she’d left on the plate from the burger—obviously not a fan—I devoured them quickly before swiping my hands on my trousers. The thick, decadent carpet kept my footfalls silent as I drifted to the large wardrobe and checked the clock on the wall.
Next to the mother-of-pearl clock, a huge painting of a black-horned unicorn being butchered glistened in the moonlight. Its blood dripped all over a forest glade while an evil goblin hacked off its head.
I wrinkled my nose.
Victor ought to get a different interior designer.
Even raping bastards didn’t want to look at the murder of a mythical creature when trying to sleep.
I focused on the clock again.
2:20 a.m.
A bit early but Victor’s guests might be in bed. After all, if every night was party night, then sleep often trumped drinking. Especially if fucking had been involved. They would’ve passed out in a climax-induced coma, out until morning.
I hope.
Opening the wardrobe, I winced as the doors squeaked a little.
Looking over my shoulder, I watched Ily to make sure I hadn’t disturbed her.
I meant what I said before. I needed her to sleep so she had the strength to keep acting with me. She needed to stay focused and be smart. To see pitfalls and traps before she walked into them. As much as her life relied on me keeping her safe, my life relied on hers in equal measure.
If she slipped and mentioned her incorrect theory that I was a cop…I was done for.
Then you probably shouldn’t have humiliated her when she tried to kiss you.
Ah fuck, not this again.
I didn’t want to think about the hurt in her eyes.
The way she’d tripped over an apology she didn’t owe me.
My rejection had been as brutal as if I’d slapped her, and if I could take it back—
I wouldn’t.
I balled my hands.
It was better this way.
This was the only way.
With walls between us and lots and lots of rules.
Struggling to tear my eyes off sleeping beauty with her midnight hair and nightmares, I reached into the wardrobe and selected a black t-shirt to match my black slacks. I looked on the shoe rack.
No sneakers.
Only smart dress shoes and loafers.
Both would be impractical for burglary—one clicked on stone, and the other turned into ice skates when trying to run.
Bare feet it is then.
Sighing, I turned and placed the t-shirt on the end of the bed.
Toeing off my shoes and ripping off my socks, I swayed back up and unbuttoned the white shirt I’d worn to dinner. Ily continued sleeping as I shrugged it off and tossed it onto the obnoxious blue velvet throne in the corner. The sleeve caught a bronze candle stick on the side table.
Shit—
I dashed to catch it before it fell.
Too late.
The heavy candlestick thudded and bounced on the thick carpet.
My eyes shot to Ily.
She didn’t wake but she did moan in her sleep.
A moan that sent goosebumps scattering down my spine. My cock instantly swelled; my heart got a hacksaw to try to cut its way out of my chest.
Not a scared moan.
Not a homesick moan.
Fuck no…that was a wanting moan. A moan that painted image after image of just how good it would feel to slip inside her while she slept.
Pressing down on my hardening erection, I gritted my teeth.
I hated that she had this effect on me.
Cursed whatever magic she wielded.
Move, Ri.
Stop watching her like some deranged teenager.
It took all my willpower to wrench my gaze off her and pat my pocket to check Q’s cufflinks were still safely inside. Knowing Ily had touched them made my breath short. Had she damaged the GPS chip inside? Did she have any idea that our very existence hinged on these tiny stupid things?
If I managed to turn off the scrambler, then I assumed Q could find my signal from anywhere in this twisted castle but just in case the stone walls and rock battlements blocked it, I figured I’d hide them outside on Victor’s terrace. Perhaps shove them down the mouth of one of the roaring gargoyles.
Pulling my hand away from the two small bumps in my pocket, I scowled and went over my checklist.
Weapon.
You need a weapon.
I returned to the wardrobe and pulled out my own blazer I wore to the Paris nightclub. My hands shook a little as I remembered getting dressed that night. Staring at myself in the mirrored elevator as it descended from my hotel room to the lobby where Roland had been waiting for me.
I’d been twisted into knots, rehearsing lines in my head. Desperate to accomplish being best friends to a raping bastard, all because it represented an end to lonely nights and life-destroying desires.
But somehow, in a moment of fucking kismet, the moment I heard Ily’s remark about blowjobs and divorces, my allegiances had switched.