Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Turning in a circle, I spot a phone on a small desk in the corner of the room. After the briefest hesitation I cross the floor and pick it up, catching sight of myself naked in a full-length closet mirror. Is that me with the wild hair and fingertip sized prints on my thighs, shoulders and hips? The evidence of how roughly Alistair took me causes moisture to turn my feminine flesh slick. My mouth parts to accommodate my accelerating breaths.
I called him Daddy.
He called himself that.
I have no idea what it means that we use that name, only that I yearn to call him that again. To give myself over to his care, wholly and completely.
Shaking myself out of the trance, I pick up the phone and dial my mother’s cell phone. Normally I would call from my cell, but I didn’t bring it with me, my mother surmising that Alistair might search it and figure out I’m his tenant. My part in the deceit weighs in my stomach as I wait for the first ring—
The bedroom door opens behind me.
I slam the phone back down into the receiver.
Alistair stops just inside the door, his attention traveling between me and the phone. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. I was just calling my mother,” I say, refusing to add to my lies.
He nods, comes further into the room, his gaze straying to my bare body and heating, turning his gaze almost black. “Your family is probably wondering where the hell you are, aren’t they?” His grin is almost playful, like he’s trying it on for size. “When your brothers find out you’ve spent the night with a man over a decade older than you, are they going to show up here wanting to kick my ass?”
My brothers weren’t in on the plan, so…
“Maybe,” I laugh. “Can you handle that?”
“After my parents left me, I spent quite a few nights on the street. I’ve been in more fights than I care to remember. But, Shelby…if a fight means you spend many more nights in my bed, bring it on.” Being romantic almost seems to embarrass Alistair and he shakes his head at himself, his cheekbones darkening. “The showdown will have to wait, though. I’m bringing you to Paris.”
Oh right. Sure. He’s definitely messing with me. “Very funny.”
He tilts his head. “My private jet is waiting at the airfield. Shower and put on the dress you wore yesterday. It’s in the bathroom—Pauline washed it.” His expression is one of mock sympathy. “Unfortunately, your panties couldn’t be saved. You’ll have to fly without them, I’m afraid.”
My head is still spinning a thousand miles an hour. “Are you…serious about Paris? You can’t be serious. Paris, France?”
All at once, he goes from playful to downright intense, his jaw flexing severely. “I’m deadly serious, little girl.” He strides toward me slowly, such authority radiating from his hard shoulders that I don’t dare move. “You are going to be spoiled rotten and fucked within an inch of your life. When I said you’re spending many more nights in my bed, I meant all of them. There will be no end date.”
Two conflicting emotions battle for supremacy inside of me.
One is vast, undiluted relief. He does want me as much as I want him. Might even need me. Permanently.
Two, would he still want to be with me if he knew I set out to seduce him?
It won’t matter that I didn’t follow through. That I gave myself to him with a pure heart. He’ll only see the lie. The betrayal.
He’ll put me in the same category as his family.
And feeling the way I do about Alistair, being cut off from him terrifies me.
“Call your mother and let her know you’ll be back in a week,” Alistair says, his cell phone ringing in his pocket. With a curse, he checks the screen. “This is one of my property managers—I have to take it.” He hits me with another one of those blistering once-overs, his tongue wetting the corner of his mouth. “Call your mother. Shower. As soon as we board the plane, I’m boarding you, Shelby. So make it quick.”
All I can do is stand there with my jaw on the floor when he turns and exits the room. But when Alistair reaches the hallway, I hear him answer the phone. “Yes, Ken. What is it?”
Ken?
That’s the building manager for our building.
Quietly as possible, I creep toward the door and listen to the conversation even though Alistair is moving further and further away from me. “Right. I forgot the eviction is scheduled for tomorrow.” He pauses. “Postpone it for a week. I don’t want any complications while I’m out of town.”
A jubilant smile curves my mouth.
I knew it. He’s already shifting, becoming less ruthless.
Because as long as I remember, an eviction has never been put off.