Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 166103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 831(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 831(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Easy, right?
Not easy. Not fun. And he was going to fucking kill that bastard when he got hold of him. He’d like to see him sprinting for hours on end and see how he handled it.
What the hell was up with this girl? Was she a robot? How could she run like this without collapsing?
And what the heck was she running from? Because this sort of running wasn’t normal or healthy. If anything, it screamed of desperation. Fear.
Which made him want to punch whoever was causing her to run as though the demons of hell were on her ass, nipping at her.
He tried to shake off his protective feelings. He didn’t know her. Wasn’t interested in her. Sure, he might flirt a little, but that was who he was . . . that was the persona he’d carefully crafted.
The easygoing, charming cowboy. The oldest son of a rich Texas rancher without a care in the world. There was nothing he took seriously.
That’s what he wanted people to think.
But there was another side to him that he didn’t allow anyone but his brothers to see. And by his brothers . . . he meant the three men he lived with, worked with. The three men that he planned on sharing his wife with one day.
They’d taken this job in Escana because it offered them the lifestyle they wanted. Of course, they’d thought they’d be moving here with Ester.
But he was glad they’d learned her true nature before coming here with her. She would have poisoned this place for them. Now they had a chance to build a new life . . .
If any of them could ever trust again. Which didn’t seem that likely.
He kept up with the girl. But only just. She was about ten feet ahead of him, moving along so easily and steadily that he wondered how often she did this. How often she tried to outrun her issues.
Wouldn’t work.
That was something he knew well.
Shit, she was fit. And he would be a liar if he said that he didn’t like watching her ass in those tights.
Yeah, he liked that a bit too much.
She’s a guest of your boss. She’s your charge while she’s here. You’re supposed to be watching over her. Not ogling her ass.
Fuck. Beck or Judd would have his head if they saw him now. However, they were the assholes who’d sent him to chase after her.
But fuck . . . he wished she’d slow down.
Ten minutes later, she finally slowed. He tried desperately to pretend that he wasn’t dying as he continued to run toward her. She’d switched to a jog as they reached the top of a cliff. Out beyond them was the ocean. They were at the edge of the palace grounds. Few people came out this far.
As she grew closer to the cliff, alarm filled him. There was no sign that the edge was unstable, but he still didn’t like it.
“Get back from there,” he barked.
She turned, looking shocked. Had she forgotten he was even there?
Ouch.
That was a bit of a blow to the ego. He wasn’t used to being forgotten. Especially by women.
“Sorry?” she asked.
It was weird that she had no real discernible accent. He knew she’d been born in Florida, but she’d lived in London for the last few years.
Not the point. Focus.
Judd was always telling him he had focus issues.
“Get away from the edge,” he told her firmly. He put away the smile and charm and made sure that his face and tone were stern.
She stepped back immediately.
“Good girl.”
Her eyes were wide as she gaped at him like she’d never seen him before. Seemed that she brought his dominant side out.
“I . . . what?” she whispered.
A light sweat coated her skin. Shit. How did she still look gorgeous even when she was sweating? He was a mess. His T-shirt was soaked and his face was likely purple by now.
“Come closer,” he urged, holding out his hand.
Obviously, he’d spoken too softly because she simply stood there.
“Chloe, do as you were told.”
With almost zombie-like movements, she walked closer to him. He had to fight the urge to give her a sharp slap on the ass.
Fuck.
What was wrong with him? He didn’t know this girl and she wasn’t his to discipline. Or command.
But as far as he was concerned, she’d been in possible danger. And it was his job to keep her safe . . . by whatever means he could.
Instead of spanking her ass for being so reckless, he reached out and gently grasped hold of her wrist. She jumped slightly, staring down at his hand in surprise.
Her heart was racing.
“What are you doing? Why did you call me over here? And call me . . .”
“A good girl?” he murmured, staring down into her flushed face. Was she only red because of the run . . . or for another reason?