Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
‘Every second.’
‘Why?’ I knew it. I’d felt it. It’s the same delicious feeling I still get when he’s close.
He considers my question for a moment, his lips pouting in contemplation, but his eyes never wavering from mine. He laughs under his breath and turns me in his arms, having a feel of my sexed-up red locks before scanning my face, thoughtful. Then his head tilts to the side a smidgen, telling me he’s really thinking about this. ‘I stand here,’ he begins, eyes still roaming my face, ‘and look down on my grand hall, often wondering how I could ever pick out the most beautiful thing in there.’ His hazel eyes creep on to mine. ‘I’ve never been able to. Nothing has ever stood out as being particularly more incredible than anything else.’ His fingertip trances lightly over my eyebrow as he takes a deep inhale of air. ‘Then one day I looked down and saw you.’
I breathe in and hold it, trying to remain still as his finger affectionately traces the contours of my face, not wanting to disturb his flow. Nothing could have prepared me for that. My heart just melted and my hopes just skyrocketed.
His touch shifts, slipping on to my nape, his other hand joining it there. I feel his fingers lace together, and then my head is tilted back and he closes the small gap between our torsos, bringing us together, sealing our skin. He looks at me with a determined stare and robs me of air, having me swallowing repeatedly to try and win it back. The sincerity shining in his eyes overwhelms me.
‘You must have been surprised,’ I say quietly.
‘Oh, I was.’ He laughs mildly. ‘I know you don’t believe in The Fates, but I hadn’t stopped thinking about you and your annoyingly gorgeous face and blinding red hair since I first saw you on the street. Then you turned up here.’
‘That’s because I was stalking you.’
He smiles, and his lips drop to mine, swallowing me up in a soft, adoring kiss, my eyes closing in contentment, my arms wrapping around his broad shoulders.
‘Maybe I’m starting to believe in fate,’ I say into his mouth. ‘If you hadn’t stolen my cab, I would’ve made it to my interview on time, and then maybe I would’ve got the job there.’ I pull away, and he smiles, though it feels a little strained.
‘Maybe,’ he murmurs.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Super.’ He dips and nibbles my lip. ‘How could I not be with you in my haven? Everything is just about fucking perfect.’
I have no idea what to say. He’s dazed me with his tender words. So I say nothing, but I think lots. Too much for me to try and unravel now. I need space and quiet, maybe even a listening ear. Lucy springs to mind first. I need to call her tomorrow.
‘Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.’ He dips and picks me up, draping me across both arms, and carries me into the bedroom. His arms locking me tightly to his chest offer me a sense of security that would be far too easy to get used to. My head falls limply on to his shoulder, suddenly too heavy to hold up, probably from the weight of everything on my mind.
When I’m placed on my feet, Becker stands back and lets me take in his bed. I’m sleeping in his bed. With him. More grey in the form of shimmering gunmetal bed sheets. I could get lost in this bed; it’s humongous, but annoyingly the details of the bed are a fleeting thought. A lasting thought, however, and most nauseating, is how many women he’s had in it. I cringe to myself. Plenty, I bet.
‘Are you going to get in, or stand there all night and wonder how many women I’ve had in there?’
I look at him, bold and together. ‘Well?’ I can take it.
‘Not as many as you think.’ He motions to the bed, and I cock my head a little, surprised by his answer, though I don’t press. Besides, do I want specifics?
Without a word, I slip between the soft sheets, and the smell of him hits me, embedded in the threads, mixed with a sweet-smelling washing power. It’s intoxicating.
Becker crawls in beside me and sets about arranging his pillows just so, before he looks up and down my tense body a few times. He frowns. What have I done? He sighs and pushes me further away from him. ‘Make sure you stay on your own side.’
I sink into the mattress, injured. ‘Right,’ I confirm, rolling over so my back is away from him, putting more distance between us. From the fuck of a lifetime to those spellbinding words to this? He jumps from one persona to another quicker than I expect his Ferrari gets from zero to sixty. ‘Keep your hands to yourself,’ I mutter.