Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Someone bangs on the door. It’s loud enough to make me yelp. A thousand horrible images flit through my head: Costa goons breaking in to abduct me and force me to marry Conlan, the general and his campaign staff here to shove a ring on my finger and make me say the vows at gunpoint, Adler himself slapping handcuffs on my wrists and dragging me the altar.
The banging doesn’t stop. I get out, quickly towel off, and throw on a fluffy white robe. I walk quickly to the door and grab it open, heart racing.
Conlan’s in the hallway. He stares at me, and I don’t move. I’m still damp from the bath, one hand on the door, the other on the sash of my robe. His eyes move down to my lips, to my breasts, raking down over my skin like he can’t help himself. His expression’s hungry, undeniably starving, and a thrill pierces into my stomach.
“What do you want?” I manage to ask. I pull the sash tighter and hold the top closed over my chest.
“We have to talk.” He cocks his head. “You want to let me in or would you rather do it in the hall?”
“I’ll get dressed.” I move to step inside but he follows, pushing the door open.
“We’ll talk now.” He stalks into the living area. I have my own suite with a separate bedroom. Conlan lingers over near the door as I hover next to the couches, intensely aware that I’m not wearing anything underneath this robe, and it’s actually pretty short. I’m a small girl, and it only comes down mid-thigh.
“Let me put on some clothes,” I say. “I’ll just be a second.”
“No, stay like that.” He turns, giving me that look again. It’s dizzying the way he licks his lips. “We might as well get used to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re getting married.”
I let out a strangled yelp. It wrenches from my throat involuntarily and I feel embarrassed as I stare down at the floor. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” I whisper.
“No, you shouldn’t have, but you did and now we don’t have any other options. The general liked your plan.”
“Find someone else. Anyone else.”
“I don’t trust anyone else. It has to be you, Isabel.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Please.”
“Why do you pretend like you find the idea of being my wife so horrible?”
“Because.” I meet his gaze. My jaw tightens. I don’t want to do this, not right now when I’m so vulnerable. “I just don’t want it, okay?”
“Tell me why.”
“Stop. You don’t want to do this.”
“I actually do. Go ahead, give me all the reasons why you hate me. I want to hear them.” He moves closer, crossing the distance between us.
I hold up a hand to make him stop. “You’re selfish.”
His eyebrows raise. “No kidding. What else?”
“You use people. You don’t take care of yourself. You work out a lot and look really good, but it’s all shallow. Your looks, your money, you don’t do anything with it except self-destruct. I don’t know why, but it’s like you’re hellbent on ruining your own life, and I guess that takes a lot of work when you’re rich and powerful, but I don’t want to get dragged down too as you inevitably implode. You’re rude, insufferable, cocky to the point of being absurd, and you’re not as funny as you think you are. I just don’t want to be your wife, okay? I don’t want to marry a guy like you.”
He doesn’t move. I’m breathing hard, chest rising and falling. That came out of me like blood from a wound. I couldn’t help myself—once I got started, all my grievances just flowed from my mouth, and I wish I hadn’t said anything.
It’s becoming a pattern now, this inability to keep my dumb face quiet.
“I’m insulted,” he says softly. “I’m very funny.”
I throw my hands up. “That’s all your heard? The thing about not being that funny?”
“The other stuff’s all true, but I take issue with the funny bit. I’m hilarious.”
“You’re not. You’re an asshole.”
“I make people laugh all the time.”
“Let me guess. They’re mostly employees and clients.”
He crosses his arms over his sculpted chest. “You can call me selfish and shallow. I won’t disagree. But how dare you say I’m not funny.”
I rub my face. I could scream right now.
“This won’t work,” I say, not looking at him. “We just won’t work, okay?”
He’s silent for a moment. I peek from behind my fingers and sigh, stretching my neck and back. He licks his lips again, still staring at me, before coming a step closer.
“Now it’s my turn.”
“Your turn for what?”
“You’re insufferable. You’re a know-it-all. You’re judgmental, quick to anger, slow to forgive, and just as selfish as I am.”
“Hold on, I didn’t ask for this,” I say, getting annoyed.
“You pretend like you don’t like me. You tell yourself constantly how you hate me, but you look at me like you want to climb into my lap and ride my cock until you scream.”