Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Her blond hair hung just above her shoulders, the ends of the loose waves tickling her skin. Wide, dark eyes looked everywhere but at me, and the lashes that framed them were lightly coated with mascara, just enough to darken them to a stunning black that looked almost natural.
High cheekbones were highlighted with pale pink, making an almost perfectly curved path down to her full, dark pink lips. A tiny mole decorated the corner of her mouth, and another sat partially hidden on her opposite cheek by the way her bangs swept over her forehead and across her face.
She was, simply, beautiful. The kind of beauty that needed no work or correction. The kind of beauty that could roll out of bed without washing her hair for four days, wearing yesterday’s make-up, and spaghetti sauce on a shirt of questionable cleanliness, and still make you look twice for all the right reasons.
But maybe that was less about her looks and more about her. Despite all the torment she clearly faced, beneath it was a strange kind of peace. One that gripped on to everyone around her.
She was off-limits.
Untouchable.
We were on opposite sides. I upheld the law while she flaunted it. She fucked for money while I took down the people who did the very same thing.
Why had I saved her?
Why hadn’t I sent her to a goddamn cell?
Looking at her right here, right now, it was obvious. It wasn’t because I felt bad for her. It wasn’t because she was a single mom.
She was broken.
At some point in her life, something or someone had broken her.
It took one broken person to see another, and here I was, in the middle of a crowded, smoky casino, one step away from a motherfucking cliché, seeing her.
Seeing the brokenness that she hid, the heartbreak she tried to conceal, and all the lies for the reasons why she was doing what we doing.
And fuck, I couldn’t have her, but I wanted to strip all those layers away and find out what why she was the way she was. Why the heir of one of Vegas’ richest families, a legitimate dynasty, had been selling herself for sex and hadn’t spoken to her family in years.
Whose fault was it?
Who was to blame?
What the hell had happened to her to make her this way?
“Stop staring at me like there aren’t another million places to look,” she snapped, finally bringing her attention to me. “I’m not a bedtime snack.”
I wouldn’t complain if she were.
“I’m simply trying to figure you out,” I replied.
“Grab a pen and paper. You’ll need to take notes. There are a hell of a lot of pieces that need putting together.”
Raising my eyebrows, I fought the smirk that willed its way onto my lips. “I like puzzles. Unless my son is in charge of them. In that case, I’d rather swim with crocodiles.”
“Now, you’re just stating the obvious.” She sighed, playing with the corner of a napkin. “I can’t see anyone here. At least, they’re not as obvious as you.”
I let the smirk go, and my lips curved up. “All right.”
Perrie blinked at me. “All right? Is that all you have to say?”
“You don’t want to hear all the things I have to say to you.”
“I assure you that I do.”
“And I’m assuring you that you don’t. If we’re done here, let’s go. I have paperwork to do.”
She glanced at her watch. “Fine. I suppose this has been worth my time.”
I took her hand in mine before she’d even stood up and all but dragged her out of the casino. I hadn’t spent that much time staring at a woman in a while. I hadn’t had time—all the women I’d been focused on were potential sex workers.
And fuck if I didn’t wish she weren’t one of them.
If she weren’t, I didn’t doubt I’d have given her my number before I walked away.
Now she had it—and not the one I wanted her to have.
I dug the valet ticket out of my back pocket and handed it to the valet. He nodded and briskly walked off to get my keys and my car. Perrie didn’t say a word as she stood beside me, waiting for it to show up.
When it did, I took the keys and opened the passenger door for her. She hit me with her gaze for a split second before she got in and closed the door herself.
Of course she did.
I walked around the car and got in, shoving the keys into the ignition with a little too much vigor. The engine roared to life with one twist of the key as far as it would go, so I slammed my door and yanked my belt right across me until I clicked it into place.
Her glance of surprise didn’t register until I’d pulled away from the hotel and almost reached the main road.