Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I know my father is giving me no choice. I know that I'm going to have to do something drastic. But there has to be another way.
“Is this seat taken?”
I look up to see Mac with a drink in each hand, giving me that winsome look that makes me go all tingly. God, but he’s a charmer, that man. Sexy as fuck. His voice alone sends a shiver down my spine.
“So sorry,” I say. “But that’s my boyfriend’s seat.”
He leans down and slides a drink toward me. “Your boyfriend doesn’t need to know.”
I grin, loving the way my skin goes all heated with his breath at my ear. I give him a mock affronted look. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Is it working?”
I bite my lip and shove the chair back from the table and jerk my chin at him. “Go on, then. Have a seat.”
He sits next to me, then leans over, placing his finger under my chin. I’m dazzled with the intensity of his gaze, and I feel a bit trembly.
“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he whispers. “Your boyfriend’s a lucky bloke.”
I smile bashfully.
I sip my drink, and he slides his hand over mine.
“Listen, Bryn,” he says in a low voice, no longer flirting but growing serious. “There’s something you need to know.”
“Oh?”
He nods. “I have to take an impromptu trip to Paris tonight. And you can’t come with me.”
My heart skips a beat, and I grip my chair for support.
It’s starting.
“Why Paris?” I ask, doing my level best to keep my voice calm.
He sighs and rubs a hand across his brow. “Fuckin’ deal I have to make. It wasn’t supposed to happen so quickly, but it can't be helped.”
This is what my father meant. He set this in motion. Mac has to go tonight, because of whatever bullshit my father did.
I wish I could tell him the truth. I wish I could tell him everything. But I’m afraid if I do, my father will do something terrible to his entire Clan.
So I do the only thing I can.
“When do you go?”
“Straight away.”
“Mac, please can’t I go? I promise I won’t get in your way. I hate being apart from you.”
He shakes his head. “No, lass, not this time. I’m sorry.”
How can I find a way to go with him?
We leave the wedding a little early. Islan and Paisley have strict orders to return home with their bodyguards. I feel a little bad for them. I know what it’s like to have a damn bodyguard watching every move you make.
“I’ve already got staff packing up for my trip.”
“Why can’t I go with you to Paris?”
“It isn’t safe.”
“Please?”
I feel like a child, but I can see he’s caving.
He sighs. “Let me think about it.”
My nerves are an absolute wreck. I feel so nervous, I don't even know what to do with myself. I've never done anything like this before, and it feels as if so much is on the line.
If I told Mac the truth, would he still care about me?
Could he forgive me?
Would he see everything I’ve done as betrayal? It is, though, it fucking is.
I never should’ve agreed to this. My heart aches to think of what happens next. My father’s tentacles are so deep, there’s no escape for either of us. He knows people fucking everywhere.
For one brief moment, I even contemplate running away with Mac. Telling him the truth, telling him the danger that we're in, and convincing him to hide with me and find another place where we can be.
But I know that that's foolish, and as soon as I think the thought, I banish it altogether. I can't talk him into doing that. He's dedicated to his family; his whole world is right here. I can’t take him away from everything that has meaning to him.
My phone buzzes, and I feel as if I’m going to be sick. With trembling fingers, I look at the message.
Dad: When you go to take your ride back, you’ll be handed a bag. Take the bag. Further instructions to follow.
I walk briskly beside Mac when someone calls his name. He looks over at a bloke standing to the side, just as a uniformed server walks past me. She smiles, and hands me a purse.
“You forgot your bag, miss.”
I take the bag she gives me with trembling hands, like it’s carrying a bomb. “Thank you.”
And that quickly, she’s gone.
I brought a small clutch here tonight, but this is a larger bag. It isn’t heavy at all, but I feel as if it’s made of lead. I tuck my clutch into the bag and swing the strap over my shoulder, and it hangs by my side.
It looks just like another bag I had before, so when Mac returns to me, he doesn’t even notice. I feel as if I’m carrying a ticking time bomb.