Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
“That goes for you too.”
“Agreed.” Our lips come together, and he stands, pulling me up with him and reaching under my thighs to lift me to his body. I wrap every limb around him but loosen my hold when his sucks in air through his teeth. “It’s okay.”
“It is not—”
His lips hit mine and I lose myself in his mouth’s attention as he walks us into the villa and lays me on the bed, his forearms on either side of my head and his knees on either side of my hips, holding him up.
Because . . . the cuts.
Not my round belly. It’s because the cuts that are there because of me.
I try my hardest to push those miserable thoughts into a box, but as he kisses me with all the adoration I know he feels, all I can think about is how much stress I cause him. How much worry. How much pain. If I weren’t a burden, he’d have simply packed like Ringo and Brad. He’d be fucking his way through whores without care, without concern. My safety wouldn’t plague him. There’d be no need to placate the missus before returning to the battlefield. He’d be free.
My head naturally shakes, my body naturally tensing, and Danny instantly pulls away, looking down at me. I smile. It must be lame because his eyes narrow. “Talk,” he orders, and I pout. “Now, Rose.”
“What do I bring to this relationship?” I blurt out, surprising myself as much as I’ve clearly surprised my husband. His blue eyes are round and unsure. I sigh. “I make your life even more difficult.” I hold up the ring he just put on my finger, and he looks at it, as if he’s wary. “Cost you money, time, stress, and what do you get in return?” I have absolutely nothing to offer. No skills. No qualities. God, why am I only considering this now? I’m a total drain. What the fuck does he see in me?
The poor man looks completely lost, his frown deep. Great. So he’s wondering the very same thing. What does he get out of me, apart from pain and hassle? Defeated and feeling a heavy sense of failure, I wriggle beneath him, trying to break free, needing to escape the awkward silence. But Danny lowers his body to mine, and his hard, perfectly formed stomach is suddenly pressing into my rounding belly, his maimed chest pushing into my boobs. I still when he hisses in discomfort, and his jaw tight, he stares deeply into my eyes. “You,” he says, lowering slowly and pushing his mouth to the corner of mine. “I get you.”
I could cry. Once upon a time, having me equaled having freedom. Not anymore. “That’s sweet, but what exactly do you get out of me?” I know what I get out of him. Love, safety, freedom, happiness. Although the latter two are sporadic these days. He makes a living, albeit questionably, and he provides. Looks after us. Fucking hell, I’m a complete waste of space. “Tell me.”
“You want to kill a few men, because I have every faith you can.” He strokes his chin, reminding me of all the times I’ve socked him in the jaw.
I roll my eyes. “I’m being serious, Danny. Look at Beau.”
“What about her?”
“Well, for a start she’s a former cop. Trained, qualified. She can decorate, do gymnastics, martial arts, and let’s not forget—”
His hand lands over my mouth, shutting me up. “You’re my wife. You’re my lover. You’re my best friend. My be-all and fucking end-all, Rose Lillian Black.” Kisses are dotted over every inch of my face. “But most importantly, you are the mother of my children.”
His words quickly remind me that I am one thing Beau is not, and once again my heart breaks for her. God, are any of us truly happy with what we’ve got and who we are? “I want to learn to drive,” I say out of nowhere.
Danny looks quite alarmed. It doesn’t bode well. “You don’t need to drive,” he says. “I’ll have you driven wherever you want to go.”
I knew he’d say that. Some people might think that having every tiny thing done for you is a luxury. Not having to think about anything. “But I want to.” I have never learned. There was no point, because I wasn’t blessed with the freedom to just get in a car and drive. Not that I ever had the opportunity to actually learn, anyway. But now I do, and I’d like to.
“Why?” he asks, truly perplexed.
“The only skill I possess is the art of seduction.”
“Rose,” he says slowly, warningly.
“It’s true. And I can’t even do that anymore, and not only because I’m getting fat.”
He looks split between exasperated and plain fucking furious. “You’re wrong, you do have another skill, and you’re fucking ace at it.”