Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
He looked to his employer for a verdict. After a brief hesitation, Callen gave a clipped nod. He didn’t meet my gaze when he added, “Bring me another plate as well.”
I did snort this time. Old Man Butler cast me a disdainful humph before rushing to comply.
Alone with hubby dearest, I took the time to examine him. He looked delicious this morning. But when didn’t he?
Um. Delicious? Seriously? I must be hungrier than I’d realized. Anyway. Muted light streamed from the wall of windows, paying his flawless skin absolute tribute. Rumpled dark hair stuck out in spikes. Had he plowed a hand through the strands? A five o’clock shadow covered his strong jaw. I wasn’t shocked all signs of the brawl were gone. He did have that amazing elixir, after all.
His jacket hung over the back of his chair. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his (clean) white dress shirt, revealing his forearms. I’d never been someone who admired forearms, but his were powerful with thick black slashes tattooed from his elbow to his wrists.
My heart blipped, my brain short-circuiting, and my tongue seeming to thicken. Just for a moment. Just long enough to startle me into near panic. Uh-oh. I knew this sensation. Horror of horrors, this was the beginning of an attraction.
Denials exploded through my head. I couldn’t be romantically interested in this man. I refused! Even if I won him over, we were doomed.
Maybe I should retreat to my bedroom and do a little more tweaking to my plan?
Whoa! Give up? Not happening. I’d come here with a goal. I might as well rip off the bandage and get it done. But how did one start a conversation like this?
“Why are you here, Isobel?” he asked, sounding almost weary.
Perfect opening. “As your wife, your money is my money. Like any rational person, I expect unfettered access to my money. If it makes you feel better, consider it the cost of maintaining my patience, with an added service charge for shipping and handling. I’ll take twenty thousand pounds to start.” Begin high, allowing for wiggle room. “Just so we’re clear, this will be cold, hard cash I can spend in any way I wish without involving you.”
Callen released his silverware, reclined in his seat, and met my gaze at last. Tension pulsed from him, and I barely stopped myself from squirming. But. He started twisting his ring again, a good sign.
“You dare seek more from me.” Calmly stated with any hint of his accent.
A good sign? Or a really, really bad one? “Yes?” I squeaked. Had Isobel gotten money pre-wedding and spent it? Did he give her pin money I had no idea how to access?
He gave his earlobe a tug and rubbed two fingers over his jaw. “The day before our wedding, when I considered backing out, you vowed to ask for nothing but my name.”
Menace rumbled in his voice, yet I felt no fear. Only heat. Wonderful, tantalizing, awful heat. Of course Isobel had made such a vow. Her attempt to hobble me.
“I guess I wasn’t clear.” I smiled a little too sweetly. “I wasn’t asking for the money.”
He arched a brow in that haughty way of his, as if he stood in front of a trap and dared me to jump in. “Do you mock me now?”
“Why? Is it a crime to mock the–” Could I say ‘secret king of immortal berserkers’ out loud? Did the servants know the truth?
“The what?” he demanded.
Old Man Butler returned with our plates. I collected my silverware, saying, “The husband with a grudge against his wife.” A subject we needed to discuss from his point of view. I only knew Isobel’s side of the story, and she couldn’t be trusted.
His eyelids narrowed. “Yes. It’s a crime. So how do you suggest I punish you?”
“With only fifteen thousand pounds instead of twenty.” I forked a piece of fried egg and toast, dipped them into a cup of gravy, and sampled the goods. Very good. “Agreed?”
“I will give you no money.”
Well, not yet, obviously. But I wasn’t done with my attempts. For now, why not shift my target to an equally important topic? Information. “Will you give me five minutes to ask you anything?”
Another brow arched. “I should do this, why?”
“Because we’re on our honeymoon, and even unwanted husbands and brides can enjoy a game now and then. But you have to answer honestly. And you can’t pass.” Best to be clear.
He tilted his head to the side, deepening his study of me to an uncomfortable degree. “Ask.”
My jaw slackened, the fork stopping halfway to my mouth. Seriously? A thousand questions raced through my mind at once. Some revolved around being a berserker. Others involved his daughter. The bulk grew from curiosity about becoming an immortal. Not something I wanted to do. Live forever? No thank you. In fact, the more I knew of the ritual, the better I could avoid it, but this might not be the time to inquire. The real Isobel should already know.