Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
A faint smile touched his lips. “Flirting. This – asking such straightforward questions – isn’t how flirting is supposed to work.”
Oh. “I see.” We were flirting? “I’m sorry.” That was flirting? “I truly beg your pardon.” We really had been flirting?
“Va bene.” Marcus’ words drew my attention back to him. He was smiling again, but this time it no longer reached his eyes. “I shouldn’t have been the usual with you anyway.”
“I see.” I wasn’t sure what he meant, but his words awfully sounded like he had compared me to other women—-
And he had found me lacking.
I managed a smile. “Then that’s that, I suppose.” And once again I found myself walking away.
I heard him curse under his breath, but again it only made me walk faster.
Marcus reached my side, but I forced myself to ignore him.
“Do you know,” he muttered under his breath, “you are the only woman I find myself running after?”
Then that made us even, I thought, for he was the only man to make me exhibit such rudeness.
He suddenly blocked my way, forcing me to stop. “I don’t like this.”
“I don’t like it either,” I heard myself snap and felt appalled right after. It was yet another act of rudeness, and again it happened because of him—-
Marcus Ravelli.
Last night I had spent hours tossing and turning in bed, trying to figure out why he affected me so. I wasn’t so stupid I thought it was love at first sight. I didn’t need actual experience to understand that what existed between us was nothing more than a powerful attraction, the kind of chemistry that was off the charts.
But what I still didn’t get was why.
Why him?
Why Marcus Ravelli?
What made him different?
“Anneke—-”
I jerked. It was the first time for him to say my name, and the sound of it was—-
Unlike any other, I thought helplessly.
He made my name sound like an endearment that he alone had the right to use—-
I squeezed my eyes shut.
—-and I actually liked it.
Crap, crap, crap, but I actually really liked it.
What was happening to me?
“Anneke.”
There it was again, and oh, how it made my body ache in a strange, powerful way.
“Look at me.” His voice was tight. “Anneke, look at me.”
It was an order that I knew in my heart I would be better off ignoring.
But I couldn’t.
And so I opened my eyes, and his intense dark gaze immediately captured mine.
“I want us to be friends.”
My eyes widened.
“I know it sounds like a bad idea,” he said grimly, “but it’s what I want.”
I shook my head helplessly. “Why would you want to be friends with me?” And I really did want to know. “I’m different from my brothers, and just because you’re their friend doesn’t mean you have to be mine.”
“I want to be your friend.”
I threw my hands up in frustration. “You can’t. You shouldn’t even want to. We live in very different worlds—-”
“Then let me inside yours,” Marcus cut in.
“Impossible.”
The word seemed to offend him, and he snapped, “Then I’ll snatch you out of yours and lock you in mine.”
His words were the height of arrogance, but instead of annoying or angering me, they made my toes curl hard instead—-
And that, too, was dangerous, wasn’t it?
I gazed at him in mute despair. “May I be frank?”
“You may do anything you want with me.”
My mouth opened and closed at his unexpectedly suggestive words. Where did that even come from? And why did it make me feel so darn lightheaded?
Marcus’ lips slowly formed a smirk.
Oh! His amusement made me mentally shake myself, and I cleared my throat. “That is exactly why we can’t be friends—-”
His smirk disappeared.
“I’m not the type to fool around—-”
“I’m not asking you to.”
It doesn’t matter if he never asked me, I thought. Didn’t he see that just being in his company would make any ordinary girl want to fool around? But since pride forbade me from saying such words, I could only look at him.
My silence made Marcus’ jaw harden, and he said abruptly, “Come with me.”
And before I knew what was happening, his hand was already clasping mine, and Marcus was leading me back to town.
“Where are we going?” My voice came out strained. It was my first time to hold another guy’s hand, and the realization was enough to turn my thoughts into mush.
“I’m taking you out to lunch.”
He was?
“And over lunch,” Marcus continued in a silky voice, “you’ll ask me questions.”
I would?
He flashed me a smile that was as dangerous as it was charming. “You will get to know me well, and after lunch we will be friends.”
Marcus continued walking as he spoke, and I found myself following him.
I was trapped, and it was all because of his touch.
It felt too hot. It felt too right. And most of all – the feel of his large, strong hand engulfing mine felt too addictive, his touch making me feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered but unable to do anything about it.