Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Fantastic.” He flashed me a confident grin.
Holy God, that grin was a weapon, worse than a bomb going off in that room. It flustered me, it promised, and it made me want to beg. Was it a trick of the light, or was his hair… tinted black with a bit of dark green?
He held out his hand.
I was almost afraid of what would happen when I took it.
But I had no choice.
And frankly, I wanted to touch it, to touch him. He had to be close to my age, though he looked… more mature, like a god, with an easy yet predatory smile and a presence that had me wanting to sit in his presence all day.
Weird.
Creepy.
But my last few days had been hell, and I had good wine, and he was gorgeous, so I was at least attempting to cheer myself up and focus on the positive, right?
“I’m Luna.” I smiled, mouth dry, eyes still unsure of where to look, his mouth or his jaw, his perfect black brows, or his gorgeous hair.
His firm hand wrapped around mine, his grip hot, his fingers strong as he rasped out. “Nice to meet you, Luna. I’m Benjamin Wells.”
I gasped. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.” He chuckled and released my hand. “But if you need proof…” He nodded toward the portrait.
And right underneath it, on a gold plate, it stated, “Benjamin Wells.”
“I swear I can read.” I crossed my arms to keep from reaching for him again. “I was just distracted.” By his hypnotic eyes, godlike beauty, and magnetism. “But isn’t that an older photo?” Of like your ancestors, maybe?
He peered around me. “This house and wine? Not the best combo if you want to focus.” He completely ignored my question.
I laughed uneasily.
His eyes fell to my mouth for a brief second. “Did you save any for me?”
“Do I have the job?” I countered.
“Never negotiate with a Wells, Luna. That’s your first lesson,” he said as he moved around to sit in the leather chair.
I followed and sat in the opposite one. Okay, arrogant son of the owner of this mansion. “And the second lesson?”
“Never lie.”
“Pardon?”
“There is no maid position, so maybe tell me why you’re really here first, and then I’ll let you know if you can stay or if I’ll eat you for a snack.”
I laughed.
He absolutely did not.
The clock chimed like impending doom was around the corner.
And I could have sworn in that moment, I heard dark laughter as he waited for my answer with a curious expression.
And the crazy old lady at the bookstore I’d passed earlier that morning and her warning, whatever her name was, about stepping foot into the old mansion down the street.
I suddenly wondered if I’d somehow sealed a fate I didn’t know existed and would come to very much regret.
I wished then more than anything that I could have my mom with me, that she’d tell me what to do—but all she’d done was lead me to a town I felt I couldn’t escape, to a mysterious good looking guy I could have never hoped to date back home, and an eerie feeling that I’d done this before, been here before, and that there would be no going back. Weeks before leaving, she was constantly reading old books on reincarnation. When I asked her, she said it was giving her hope after her diagnosis was terminal, but it still seemed extremely odd of her… then again, she’d always been a bit odd, but she was still my mom.
I shook away my thoughts, weighed my options then finally decided to settle for a half-truth. He stared me down, his full lips pressed together in an amused expression. “Well?”
“I used to come here as a child.” My stomach rolled as I thought about my mom, about her disappearance, my accident, and the inn. “I um, recently lost my mother. She told me to visit my favorite place, so I took some time off, and here I am.”
It wasn’t the worst lie; it also wasn’t the best, but I had this feeling I needed him, needed more information, information only his library and this stupid town had. And going back to Portland wasn’t an option, not without my mom, not without answers.
His green eyes narrowed. “Yes, here you are.” He sucked in his bottom lip and leaned forward, the wine still in hand. “But why me? Why my house?”
Shit.
“Um,” I couldn’t look away from his gaze even if I tried. “Research for my, um, college. I’m investigating supernatural phenomena and, um, vampires. Yeah, huge Twilight fan.” I held up my hand, and he just looked at it like I was going to start busting out the soundtrack and then fall to my knees screaming EDWARRRRRRD.
I waited for the doubt to creep into his eyes, the flinching, the possible irritation in his gaze. Instead, he simply grinned and leaned back in a relaxed position that seemed so sexual that I was having trouble focusing. “You’re getting better at lying, though I assume the mom part is accurate.”