Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
My stomach churned as footsteps sounded.
And then my name, over and over, as something touched my face.
A hand?
A glove?
“Katya, wake up!” Santino was hovering over me in the semi-dark room.
I didn’t think I just reacted.
Unfortunately, my gut instinct was to swing my fist.
My knuckles connected with cartilage and came back bloody as I fell back against the bed; his heavy body collapsed against mine, his eyes open wide in shock as blood spurted down his face. “Why the hell did you punch me?”
Tears filled my eyes. “I’m s-sorry, I thought, I thought you were him. The man, the one—”
“I killed him.” His gorgeous dark face grew serious. “And I’ll kill them all. As long as I’m your protector for thirty days, I’ll kill every single person who makes you crazy enough to punch an assassin and get away with it. Damn it, did you have brass knuckles on or something?”
I laughed a bit through my tears. “Weak.”
He made a growling sound low in his throat as he hovered over me. I noticed that he was shirtless, with all the golden parts of his skin on display, including his impressive chest and biceps. My face heated as I looked away. Did he have something against clothes when he was home? Wasn’t he dressed this morning?
“New rule,” he rasped, so close to me I could feel his body heat and see the way his eyes never left mine as though he needed me to focus on him and only him, so I understood every word coming out of his mouth.
“But aren’t there already enough rules?” I leaned back so I could stare up at his face and those bright, angry green eyes. It was a welcome distraction from the sound of footsteps, from the nightmare. I knew he was dead, but my captor was very much alive and well in my nightmares.
A smirk curled around Santino’s full lips. “Rules keep people safe—they keep you safe—and they make it, so I don’t die by your side in the next thirty days.”
“Thought you were a big bad assassin?” I taunted, suddenly feeling anger and something else course through my veins, something that felt a lot more like excitement than fear, or maybe I couldn’t tell the difference anymore? “You trying to tell me we need rules for you to do your job.”
He let out a snort and lowered his hand to my thigh, gripping it hard with his fingertips. I enjoyed the pressure. It made me think of that one thing and nothing else. “As if you even know what rules Andrei gave me.”
“Not to touch me.” I swallowed slowly. “Which is exactly what you’re doing right now.”
He didn’t pull his hand away, just moved his thumb back and forth back and forth across my bare thigh. It felt rough. Good. Different. “Did he? I can’t seem to remember…” His thumb then swirled around my skin, creating goosebumps. “He also said… what was it? Not to kiss you? And I definitely,” he leaned in and whispered, “most definitely remember that he said not to fuck you. That was clear as day.” His mouth was so close it would take next to nothing for me to lean closer and press my lips against his. I had no clue how, under all the trauma, I still felt an attraction to anyone for anything, but something about him was magnetic, angry, and protective. “Still agree that rules are a good thing, sweetheart? Or should I go downstairs and re-negotiate?”
I couldn’t find my voice. His hands were so warm, his body so big, protective, like an anchor in a storm. I didn’t know my own ship needed rooting me in place, holding me captive.
Keeping me sane.
My lips parted as he leaned closer until he was almost brushing my lower lip with his top. “Are we in agreement then?”
“Agreement?” His hand slid up my thigh, it was slow, but he definitely wasn’t asking for permission. Then again, I wasn’t pushing him away as he cupped my hip with his palm. His fingers dug in like he wanted to keep me there, but not enough to scare me. For whatever reason, maybe because he’d killed my captor, Santino didn’t scare me. I didn’t think he would actually harm me because then my brother would have his head on a spike, and it felt nice to be touched in a way that wasn’t forced.
How was he so large and intimidating and yet so… whatever he was now? Predatory in a very controlling way that made me think he always had control of the situation and liked it that way and wanted you to like it that way too.
“About our new rule… you know, the whole punching thing.” He sniffed as if to remind me I had basically given him a bloody nose. He’d wiped it away, and in its place, all I could focus on was his mouth.