Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 48853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Rasmussen takes off his sunglasses and tucks them into his suit jacket pocket. Only then does he turn to look at me. His heavy-lidded gaze examines my worn and faded clothing. “Security check.”
“I didn’t realize it was a matter of security where a woman keeps her horse.”
Rasmussen flicks an invisible speck of dust from the sleeve of his black jacket. “It is when she’s Archduke Levanter’s daughter. Did you think it was funny, tricking her into riding Varga’s horse?” He glances over my shoulder at Onyx in his stall. “That animal should have been put down.”
Fucking monster, speaking so callously about an innocent animal. “Levanter sent you, didn’t he? You can tell him from me I don’t want his daughter here. She’s costing me business.”
Rasmussen looks pointedly at all the empty stalls. “So I see. Speaking of business, have you confided in Lady Aubrey who you really are?”
The urge to punch Rasmussen in the face is steadily mounting, but I know he’s dying for me to lose my temper, so he has an excuse to take everything from me and throw me in prison.
“I wonder if her father knows your name. I wonder if the people at Court know. How much business could you expect, then?”
“My name is on the sign out front. Cassian Bellerose. I’m hiding nothing.”
Rasmussen narrows his eyes. “You say you don’t want Lady Aubrey here, and yet, her horse is on your property.”
I take his appearance in, from his patent leather shoes to the knot in his silk tie. Maybe he did hate Varga, but, apparently, tyranny is fine when it’s him who gets to be tyrannical. “I bet you spend all day sucking up to those aristos, you sad fuck.”
Rasmussen steps forward, his anger slamming down behind his eyes. “Getting too close to the Levanters is going to blow up in your face.” He pushes past me, his voice fading away as he stalks to his car. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The next morning, the first person I see when I step foot out of my house is her. It’s barely seven, and the yard is drenched in early morning light. The day is warm, and the breeze lifts tendrils of her dark hair as she leads Cinnamon out of the stable.
I stride across the yard toward her, but she doesn’t notice me until I say her name. She seems to be distracted by something. “Lady Aubrey.”
She looks up quickly. Her face is pale, but she lifts her chin, as if challenging me to try and throw her out again.
“Well, you got your wish,” I tell her.
“Which was?”
“Daddy is furious with you. I’ve had the Head of Palace Security down here. You’re in all the papers. Quite the scandal you’ve caused and you’ve only been in the country, what? Five minutes?” I advance on her slowly, my palms tingling.
“Mr. Rasmussen has been here? Because of me?”
I strip the reins from her hands and clasp her waist, walking her back into the stable. I keep moving forward until she’s backed against the wall. “Yeah, you. You goddamn troublemaker.”
I slant my lips over hers. She takes my kiss like she takes everything else from me, with desperate hunger. Her kiss is everything I’ve been craving, and she opens her mouth for me and slides her tongue against mine.
Alone in the shadowy light, we explore each other’s bodies. She rubs her palm over the bulge at the front of my jeans, and I look down, watching her do it.
“Daddy is going to be so mad at you,” I tell her.
“Good,” she whispers back.
I turn her roughly around and get my hand beneath her shirt. Her breasts are soft and full beneath the lace of her bra. “Is this what you want, for me to fuck you hard in the stables, so you can go back to that tedious Court of yours in a pretty dress feeling like you’ve had an adventure?”
Her head tips back against my shoulder. “I don’t know. I’ve only been thinking about you f…” She trails off, biting her lip.
“What’s that? A good little society girl can’t say fuck?”
I cast my eyes down her trembling body. She’s horny as hell. I dip my hand down between her legs and rub her pussy through her clothes. “What a story this will be to tell your friends over tea when your dull, inbred husband is off playing golf. Oh, ladies, let me tell you about that time I let a rough, uncouth horseman screw me in a stable. And then we did it again.”
I know that’s all I am to her. An act of rebellion. A tool to make Daddy mad. Varga and the Party never saw me or the people who ran this place as human beings. Once, I witnessed one of the Party member’s wives having a spat with her husband in the car park, and five minutes later, she was propositioning me.