Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
I relax, content with her close, but a little uncomfortable in the groin area. “How was your day?” I ask.
“Crap,” she answers quickly. “I want Paradise.”
That’s sweet. “I’m in Paradise whenever I’m with you,” I say, stroking her hair, kissing it, over and over. “I don’t need a villa.” Just peace.
“You were more relaxed in Paradise.”
“I’m relaxed now.”
“Yes, that is because I’m sitting on your lap, coated in you,” she quips. She’s right. But I still poke her tickle spot, and she laughs, breaking out of my hold, grinning at me as she turns herself around on my lap. And once again, I’m amazed by her grace. I should have told her who was involved during that four-day absence. There are many things I should have done. And shouldn’t have.
“How was your day?” she asks, leaning back so I can settle my face close to hers.
“Long.” I won’t bore her—or worry her—with the never-ending details. I need to figure out how I handle the coming days while Cook investigates. I also need to have a word with Van Der Haus. “How are my peanuts?”
“Fine.”
Good. Let’s get her home so I can share my new office feature wall and then fix the persistent problem behind my trousers. I engage to lift us from the chair. “Why’s my brother’s name written down there?”
I freeze, every muscle tensing. Shit. I see her reach for the pad on my desk, and out of impulse—and stupidity—I snatch it away, stuffing it in the drawer and slamming it shut. Shit, shit, shit. “Daniel Joseph O’Shea?” she asks. “Why have you got Dan’s bank account number written down?”
“I haven’t.” Idiot.
Ava quickly stands, drilling accusing holes into me. “I’m giving you three seconds, Ward.”
“The countdown is mine,” I snap, at a loss.
“Three.” She holds up her middle fingers in front of me. What, does she think I can’t count? “Two,” she says, dropping one finger, confirming it. I mentally roll my eyes. For fuck’s sake. “You’re giving him money,” she gasps, her hand dropping.
Fuck. “No.” Bollocks, why the hell did I leave that pad right there for her to see?
“You’re a shit liar too, Ward,” Ava hisses, bolting, catching me on the back foot.
“Ava!” I yell, scrambling up and running round my desk. “Ava, wait.” I make it to the corridor and see her disappear through the summer room, her hair wafting as she runs full pelt. “Jesus,” I breathe, going after her, hoping John’s got Dan in that taxi already. I pull out my phone to text her brother—just to give him the heads-up, because she will call him—but I’m too late. Dan’s still in the hallway, looking around.
Interested.
Fuck.
I lift Ava from her feet and turn her to face me, needing her to see my aggravation. “For fuck’s sake, woman, you’ll give the babies brain damage. No running.”
“Get a grip,” she snaps, fighting me off.
I don’t like what I’m looking at. John, awkward. Dan, curious.
“If this is a hotel,” he says, focusing on me. “Then where’s the reception area?”
“What?” I snap, throwing him all the warning I can muster, willing him to be wise and fuck off.
“Where do your guests pick up the keys to their rooms?” he asks, turning his eyes onto John. “And why the need to have a gorilla escorting me everywhere?”
A gorilla? The dirty, insolent prick. Every modicum of my being is demanding I pound his arse and then let John have a go too. But, give me strength, I can’t do that to Ava. So I motion back toward my office, urging Dan to take this away from the public areas of The Manor.
But Dan isn’t looking at me to catch my gesture. His eyes are on the stairs, and Ava has become stiff under my hand on her back. And then I realize why.
Oh . . . Jesus.
Sam and Kate descend the stairs, wrapped up in each other—literally—laughing, touching, kissing. They’re clearly not done, so why the fuck didn’t they stay behind closed doors?
I feel Ava nudge me, and I look down at her as she stares up the stairs in horror. What does she expect me to do? Press rewind?
“I think we need to invest in one of those dildos,” Sam says, feeling out Kate’s arse, his face in her neck.
“Oh!” Kate giggles as they reach the bottom, still oblivious. My mate slips his hand between Kate’s legs. Fuck my life. “Sam!” Kate throws her head back as Sam flings her over his arm, and then she sees us. Me first. I smile, eyebrows raised, as John grunts and Ava remains stock-still, in a state of shock and dread. These two. They’re like a walking fucking advertisement for The Manor.
Kate’s eyes finally find Dan. Widen. Then she shoots up and makes a pathetic, pointless attempt to compose herself.
“Hotel?” Dan asks, looking Kate up and down, before his eyes drift up the stairs. I can hear the background noise from some of the rooms. The odd whip. A distant scream. “Do you often let your friends carry on like this in your establishment?”