Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
We rode the vertical lift back down to the hotel lobby. As before, all of the staff said hello and Slade greeted them by name. They all seemed to like him, which I had to grudgingly admit raised him in my estimation. My mother used to say you can tell how a man will treat you by the way he treats the staff. She often emphasized to me that the maids and grooms and footmen who worked in the palace were people too and that they were doing a job.
“You need to make their job easier—not harder,” she used to say. She didn’t believe in the idea of either my brother or me being “spoiled royals” which was another reason she made me take lessons with the cooks in the kitchen and help out the maids when I wasn’t busy. I thought that Slade might have been raised the same way—at least partially—by the way he treated the staff at the luxury resort.
“How long did you say you’ve lived here?” I asked him as we left the lobby and headed to the parking area.
“About ten years,” he said. “I came here shortly after my mother died and my father married Lyrah.”
“I take it you and Lyrah don’t get along?” I asked, probing for a little more information.
He blew out a breath and got an annoyed look on his face, but I sensed his irritation wasn’t directed at me.
“No—she’s pretty much the exact opposite of my mother, who was sweet and kind and didn’t like drama. Lyrah fucking lives to stir the shit—the servant turn-over rate at my Sire’s house is astronomical because none of them can stand her.” He shook his head. “I guess I just can’t understand why my Sire would want to be with someone so completely different from my mom.”
“I always wondered why my own father never married again after my mother died,” I said thoughtfully. “But I’m glad I didn’t have to deal with a ‘wicked stepmother.’”
“I don’t know if Lyrah’s wicked so much as opportunistic,” he said darkly. “She’d like it if I was out of the way because then my half-brother, Hrake, would be next in line for the Chieftainship of our Clan.”
I looked at him, surprised.
“You don’t think she’d try anything, do you?”
He shook his head.
“I doubt it. She knows that trying to kill the Chief or the Heir to the Chief means an automatic death sentence—she wouldn’t risk it.” He made a face. “Unless her plan is to fucking annoy me to death—that might happen if we have to move back in with my Sire.”
“Are we really going to go stay in your father’s house?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea. Then again, I wasn’t sure that staying in the penthouse suite all alone with Slade was a good thing either. There was too much chance that we might get closer and closer until I gave in to my body, which seemed to want to be near him all the time, even if my mind didn’t. If only he didn’t smell so good!
“I’m afraid we might have to,” he growled, looking irritated. “My Sire was content to let me live on my own as long as I wasn’t mated, but now that I have a wife, he’ll want us back under his roof so he can keep the family all together.” He shook his head. “I’ll put it off for a long as I can but I just don’t know…”
We flew in silence through the skies of Rigelis Nine. Slade seemed unhappy about the idea of moving back in with his father—there was a brooding look on his chiseled face as he operated the ship’s controls. I decided to leave him alone and keep my silence.
Sin World looked different in the daylight. The enormous glowing hologram ads weren’t as visible and the buildings weren’t outlined in bright lights. It was still the most enormous city I had ever been in though and I stared at the other flying vehicles—some hover-coaches and flying cars and others high-end ships and space cruisers like Slade’s—whizzing through the air in orderly traffic patterns around us.
I wasn’t sure where we were when we finally flew into the parking area in the side of another tall building. Slade came around to the passenger door of the ship and lifted me down, his muscles bunching under his immaculate suite jacket as he did so.
“Where are we?” I asked, since the parking area didn’t offer any clues.
“It’s a surprise.” He offered me an arm. “Come on—I’ll show you.”
Bemused, I took his arm and let him lead me into the lift. Inside was an attendant in a brown uniform standing beside the lift’s floor display.
“Good morning, Sir,” he said, nodding respectfully at Slade. “Will you be visiting your tailor today?”