Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
A dark energy crackles to life between us as I stare into those savage irises. They swirl with an intoxicating and vivid array of colors I can’t drag myself away from. I’d swear they were gray, but the next moment they seem to change to blue and then back again. They are both stark and beautiful in a way I didn’t expect. The windows to his otherwise cold exterior.
Violence. Lust. Confliction. Pain.
I draw in a breath and try to convince myself that the bombastic beat of my heart is from the fight alone. The thrill of knowing how close I am to getting my in. I think.
He still hasn’t spoken. But he will. And when he opens his mouth, I have no doubt he’ll still have an accent.
I don’t encourage him. Instead, I unbraid my hair and run shaky fingers through it. This little war of wills is unexpected. I bet a man like him is accustomed to women falling all over him. There are a few, waiting in the wings, hoping that he’ll notice them. But they haven’t dared to approach him. I guess I’m not the only one who’s heard about his reputation.
As I’m considering it, I catch a glimpse of Donovan charging at me from the corner of my eye. He snarls as he lunges towards me, a need for destruction in his blood.
I dodge back and prepare to hold my ground, but it isn’t even necessary. Lachlan swoops into action and slams his body into Donovan’s side, spinning him around and yanking his arm into a locked position behind his back. It only confirms my earlier suspicion about him being a fighter. Judging by his speed and agility, he’s a natural.
He leans in close and whispers something into Donovan’s ear. Donovan doesn’t take his murderous eyes off me, but whatever Lachlan said has snapped him back to reality. He reluctantly backs down and mutters something under his breath before walking away. It seems like it’s over, but in the back of my mind, I worry that I may have to contend with him later. He doesn’t look like the type who takes being defeated by a woman too easily.
After a conversation with his men that takes place out of earshot, Lachlan stalks over to me, the same dark expression on his face. It pains me to admit it, but he is handsome. He’s also more reserved than I expected. A calm façade to accompany his quiet broodiness. It’s a complete contradiction to the killer I know he is.
He pauses at the concrete pillar across from me, maintaining his distance and keeping his expression neutral.
“Sorry about Donny,” he says. “He can be a bit of a tool.”
Just as I predicted, there’s still an accent. I totally underestimated the charm factor there. It’s rare that I find myself tripping over words, but that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. Still, I school my features and try to look unflappable. I need to focus on the Russian, I remind myself.
“No biggie.”
“Is it not generally an unwritten rule for women to fight in these things?” he asks.
“Well…” I flash him a cocky grin. “Lucky for me I don’t play by the rules.”
I expect him to throw me a bone. A smile. A twitch. Something. But I get nothing.
“Ye defeated one of my best fighters tonight.”
I can’t tell if he means it as a compliment or not, but I take it as one. “Thanks.”
Lachlan remains steadfast in his indifference, and I don’t really know how to shake him of it. I need to play my hand carefully here.
“I don’t recall seeing you around here before, butterfly.”
The way he emphasizes my fighting name sounds like a threat all in itself. I hate to admit it, but this guy is a little more intimidating than I want to give him credit for.
I blink up at him, formulating a plan. I’m going to play up the fragile little woman card in hopes it’ll soften him towards me when I pop back up later. I doubt he has any heartstrings to pull, but it can’t hurt to try.
“I only fight when I need the money.”
Lachlan narrows his eyes, and I know he isn’t buying it. He taps his fingers against his thigh, and for a brief moment, I almost wonder if he’s nervous. But then I notice his eyes darting to some men across the room. I turn and my face sours on visual impact. The frigging Russians. They’re eyeing me off, but one of them in particular is looking right at Lachlan.
I flash them a sweet smile and wave. I hate them. I hate them all.
When I turn back to Lachlan, he seems agitated, but it dissipates quickly.
“I have to head on,” he says. “Catcha, butterfly.”
My jaw clenches to keep my mouth from falling open. At the very least, I hoped he’d ask me for a drink. My phone number. Something. But his blatant rejection stings, more than I want to admit.
I knew I should have flirted with one of his soldiers, but he totally cock blocked the hell out of that plan.
“Yeah,” I grumble. “See you around then.”
Chapter Four
Lachlan
The very moment I depart from the girl, the lads are back at my side, talking their usual shite. Distraction and agitation war in my mind as I approach the waiting party. He’s a big fella with a whole load of tattoos up and down his neck. The beef of the operation, the Russians use this one for threat. Boris, his name is. He looks like one too.
His head jerks in the direction of the door. One of them wants a word with me. A silent nod lets him know I’ll be along shortly.
“Wait here,” I tell the lads. “And keep an eye on Donny. Don’t let him back near the girl.”
Ronan nods, and I follow the soldier out the door. A black car idles at the curb, the windows too dark to see within. In the back seat, Alexei waits for me. This turn of events catches me off guard, which is rare form, I’d like to say.