Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Get a grip, Sav.
The elevator stops at one and the doors open. Falcon gestures for me to walk out first.
A gentleman.
An ex-con and a gentleman.
Falcon is an exercise in contradictions.
Not that ex-cons can’t be gentlemen, but those I’ve met during my years of working as a parole officer are few and far between. Most of them are nice enough, but not the type to hold a door open for a woman. Truth be told, on average, I’ve had more trouble with my female parolees.
“So…I guess I’ll see you at our appointment next week,” I say.
“Sure. Whatever.” He walks toward the cafeteria, while I head toward the exit.
Time to go home. Get some sleep on my couch before Gert and Jor—
I gasp as strong hands grip my shoulders, turning me around. I meet Falcon’s gorgeous dark gaze.
“Vannah, I…”
“What?”
“I need you. Right here and right now. Raven’s surgery is in an hour, and my brother, he…” Falcon shakes his head.
“Your brother what?”
“It doesn’t matter. I have to focus on Raven. I need you. I want you.”
Screwing me isn’t focusing on his sister. Not in the slightest. What he wants is another quickie—a quickie to get his mind off his sister’s illness and surgery.
I’m not falling for it. We could easily find another vacant room or a secluded hallway, but no.
I’m not going to be that woman. That woman who falls for hot sex with a hot guy—a hot guy who has his own damned issues—and thinks it’s something more.
Though I don’t want to, I place my hands over his and remove his grip from my shoulders. “I have to get back to work.”
“Vannah…”
“I have a job to do. We’re not all Cooper Steel heirs, Falcon.”
He cocks his head. What? Is he surprised? He told me about his background himself? And if he hadn’t, I’d have found it in his file.
“You think I’ve got it so easy?” he says.
“No, I just mean…I’ve got to earn a living. No one’s paying my bills except me. I don’t have a trust fund or a sugar daddy or—”
Man, I’ve learned to lie so well over the years… But I don’t want my family’s money for reasons I prefer not to think about.
“You looking for a sugar daddy, Vannah?” he growls into my ear.
“No. Of course not. That’s not what I—”
His lips come down on mine so quickly that I’m gasping in a breath as he plunges his tongue into my mouth.
Right here, by the exit to the hospital in the middle of the day.
Anyone could see us.
Gert and Jordy could walk down. Mr. or Mrs. Hunt.
I push at his chest to no avail.
Right. Because I don’t want to end the kiss. The kiss to end all kisses.
But—
This time I push with more force, and our mouths separate with a smack.
“Stop it,” I say. “Just stop it. I have to get back to work.”
He pierces me with his dark gaze, his eyes wild. “Then tonight. Meet me here.”
I widen my eyes. “Falcon, I’m your parole officer.”
“Reassign me.”
“I can’t. I told you, I just started this—”
His lips are on mine again, right in the middle of my speech so my lips were parted, and his tongue is ravaging my mouth.
Ravaging, taking, so savagely…
I push away again, this time my knees wobbling. “Stop.”
“Tonight,” he growls in my ear. “Meet me here. We’ll go somewhere.”
“Falcon…”
He turns, looks over his shoulder, and mouths, tonight.
I walk toward the wall, my legs like jelly, and lean against it for support as I watch him walk back toward the elevators.
I stand there for a while until I glance at the large clock above the reception area.
Shit.
I’m going to be late getting back from lunch. Possibly late for that stupid workshop this afternoon.
I hurry to the parking lot, get into my car, and drive the ten minutes to the office. When I slide into a parking spot…
Damn.
I’m wet.
My whole body is on fire…and I’m wet.
18
FALCON
“No surgery?” I ask my mother.
“No, Falcon. The bone marrow will be inserted through Raven’s central line. She’ll be awake throughout.”
“I just figured they’d put it in the same way they took it out of me.”
“Didn’t do your research, huh?” Hawk laughs.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Mom gives me a glare. She’s the mother of three sons, and still she hates profanity, even though my brothers and I all talk like sailors on leave. So does our father. Mom ought to be used to it by now.
Mom glares at me again. “Raven received high dose chemo to condition her for the transplant.”
“Where’s Dad?” Hawk asks.
“Went to get something to eat,” Mom says, not meeting Hawk’s gaze.
“He can’t take this, huh?” I say.
“It’s difficult for him,” Mom says. “It’s difficult for all of us to see Raven like this.”
“Hello,” Raven says. “I’m right here. Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. You know I hate that.”