Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Abandoning his chair and the distance between us, he frames my face in his warm hands. “But you must. Our time together is dwindling fast. I need you to behave yourself. Heath won’t tolerate your attitude.”
“I’ll try.”
“You’ll do more than try.” His voice thickens, deep with a warning. “Because the next time you speak to me with such disrespect, I won’t leave you with a throbbing pussy—I’ll leave welts on your ass. Is that clear?”
Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them back. “Y-yes.”
“You may return to your quarters. You’re to stay there until dinner.”
Chapter Eight
Liam’s threat plays in my head on a nerve-wracking loop. His harsh words struck me in the heart, bringing about an inescapable melancholy that’s only exacerbated by the rain. I try to escape my impending reality by visiting the boutiques on the main part of the island with my ladies.
The thing about reality? It’s rarely avoidable.
So is the rain attacking in a torrential downpour. The relentless precipitation has been a steady annoyance for days. We return to the tower drenched and all shopped-out. The bodyguard Liam insisted on—a stoic man with muscled arms and a thick neck—opens the door of the main entrance, and my ladies and I spill inside, dripping rainwater everywhere.
“Today wasn’t the best day for an outing,” Faye says, letting the bags she’s holding drop to her feet.
“It’s as good a day as any.” Elise sets the rest of our haul on the floor. “Jerome says it rains at least 250 days out of the year here.”
Jerome is the wealthy businessman who’s been courting Elise for the last few weeks.
Faye rolls her eyes. “Jerome this and Jerome that.”
Elise shoots her a rare scowl. “You don’t have to be catty about it.”
“Sorry,” Faye says, sheepish. “I’ll try to rein it in.”
Selma appears from the kitchen. “The chancellor would like to see you in the library,” she tells me as she hands out towels to the three of us.
“Do you know why he requested to see me?”
“It’s not a request. I don’t know his reasons.”
I dry my hair, patting down the combination of strands and braids, and a tingle of wary excitement rushes through me. Ever since our chess game, things have become more strained, teeming with undeniable sexual tension. He hasn’t sought me out at all.
Until now.
I part ways with my ladies and take the journey down the long hallway. My dress sticks to my skin from the rain, but I forgo a trip to the penthouse to change first, much too eager to see Liam. As I pass the portraits of the Brotherhood’s ancestors, the portrayal of Evangeline Castle draws my focus. What must it have been like to be in her position, locked away and used by twelve men? Did she grow to love any of them?
One?
Two?
Three or more?
I can’t fathom falling in love with two men, but I can’t deny I’m attracted to both Liam and Sebastian.
The latter makes zero sense.
I turn down another hallway, and that’s when I realize I took a wrong turn. As if my thoughts conjured his presence, Sebastian’s raspy timbre filters into the hall from an ajar door on the left.
“Fucking gorgeous, Mona.”
A feminine voice murmurs something in response, words indiscernible, and I slow my steps, drawn to what lies beyond that door. Every bone in my body bids me to keep going, to not look into that room and lay eyes on him. To not give him another opportunity to unleash his cruelty on me.
Apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment. Holding my breath, I peek around the edge of the doorframe, and the depraved sight before my eyes knocks the air from my lungs. Breath escapes me in a silent whoosh.
A woman is spread out on a lounge, her deep burgundy locks flowing over creamy, bare breasts. It’s the pose that has me in a trance. Her legs are bent, splayed in repose, the shaven lips of her womanhood on proud display. She’s without shame or modesty, and something about her confidence calls to me.
Sebastian has his back to me as he transfers the likeness of her onto his canvas, and I can’t help but study the broadness of his shoulders, or the way his dark blond hair sticks up in dishevelment.
He’s the polar opposite of Liam.
Brazen where the chancellor is reserved.
Carefree instead of controlled.
Unrestrained sexy compared to Liam’s more classic dark looks.
Sebastian’s low-slung jeans steal my attention as his brush hits the canvas with confident strokes. The man paints as well as he fills out a pair of jeans.
“Bash,” the woman says, and when I turn my attention back to her, I find her deep brown eyes on me. She points in my direction, and Sebastian turns around before I can duck into the hall.
The instant his blue eyes meet mine, I’m frozen, caught red-handed, cheeks hot with embarrassment. A lifetime seems to pass in the lock of our gazes. My pulse speeds up. His brows narrow. I run the tip of my tongue along the seam of my mouth, and when his attention stalls on my lips, I can’t help but tuck the bottom one between my teeth.