Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Shonda, one of the kitchen staff, stuck her head inside. “Miss Blaine?”
“Please.” I hurriedly wiped my eyes and faced her with a smile. “Call me Kenzie.”
“Kenzie, Sunny is waiting for you on the balcony, along with drinks. I’ll show you the way.”
Shonda led me through the maze of hallways into the living room. Sunny’s penthouse seemed to go on forever. Hard to believe all of this was just for one man.
“Do you all live here with him?” I asked.
“No, the staff has their own quarters on the bottom floors.”
“Quarters. It’s like I stepped between the pages into Beast’s castle.”
She laughed. “Does that make me the French candlestick or the teapot?”
“I’ll let you decide,” I teased.
“You’re a trip.” Shonda held out her arm, motioning to the balcony. “I hope we see more of you, Kenzie.”
I dropped my gaze. I wish I could say you will.
Sunny’s wheelchair parked beside the lounger while the man himself stretched out, sipping a beer under shades of red, gold, and blue. A low whistle slipped through my lips, carrying me to the railing and all of Cinco City before me.
My life, my gift, my talent was creating beauty, and still I’d never compare to the master’s hand. He painted the world in sweet marmalade and dotted it with marshmallowy clouds. That was the name of a sketch I drew once. A stunning orange and white dress I dubbed marshmallows and marmalade. He chuckled when I showed it to him, caressing me softly with his gaze as he said I was just as sweet.
Memories threatened to pour out. I slammed the door on them, gripping the banister as they battered my shields, fighting to drag me under.
Sunny wrapped his arm around me, holding me to his chest. The memories faded.
“You’re gorgeous, Angel.”
I hid my smile in the slight V exposing his pecs. “Should you be on your feet?”
“I can walk just fine. The wheelchair is my doc overreacting.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “How do you feel?”
Lifting my chin, I met his eyes. He didn’t ask if I liked the clothes or what I thought of his staffs’ manhandling. Of all the things, he asked how I felt.
“Like me again.”
“Good.” He kissed between my brows, indulging this brief powerless moment that left me unable to stop him. “I got you something.”
“No,” I said automatically. “Sunny, seriously, I can’t accept anything else.”
“This isn’t for you, love.” Sunny returned to the lounger and picked up a pad and pencil. “It’s for me. Sketch this guy while his face is still fresh in your mind.”
“Happy to.”
The balcony was perfect in its simplicity. Two loungers and the table sandwiched between them. We stretched out, getting comfortable under the warm porch lights.
“Beer?”
“No,” I replied, pencil already running across the page. “I don’t drink.”
“Interesting. There’s so much I have to learn about you, Blaine.”
“Why?” I grinned at him over the pad. “Will there be a test?”
A slow, sultry, deadly smirk curved his lips. “You tell me.”
I flicked away quick. This was a strange sort of flirting. Strange, but effective. I felt the ghost of his kisses like brands on my forehead.
“It’s you I’d like to know more about,” I said. “You live in this locked-down tower with an army of pretty female servants.”
“Is there a question in there?”
“Yes, and you know what it is.”
Sunny grinned over the glass rim. “I like to surround myself with beauty. No shame in that.”
I looked around. “So, this is the compound.”
“Years ago, the Fairfield was outfitted with the best security system in the city. With every year and every upgrade, this place is more secure than the US Mint. So my family bought the building.”
“How big is your family?”
He eyed me. “You really don’t know anything about us?”
“My whole life’s been about protecting my family and giving us a better life. Then it was about hanging on to it when I failed. I wasn’t spending a lot of time learning the family trees of the criminal underground.”
“You didn’t fail.”
I gave him a hard look. “My sister was reduced to giving psychic readings in a dirty tent for a couple of dollars because I lost my job, apartment, and pissed off a crazed pimp. What would you call that but failure?”
“I’d call that bad luck and trusting the wrong people. But the thing about life on this spinning ball is, if you wait long enough, the right people come along. They give you a hand up, dust you off, and hand you a piece so you can blow the fucker’s brains out.”
I cracked a smile. “You’re a pretty positive, if violent, guy, aren’t you?”
“Why do you think they call me Sunny?”
“I wish I had your rosy view of the world, but I’m guessing that’s easy to get when you’re in the penthouse, not the gutter.”
Sunny didn’t lose his smile. “No one’s life is perfect, Angel. Need I remind you of our first meeting?”