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’ve never been to Paris,” I say softly. “Please, Mac. Take me?”
“I wish it didn’t have to be so rushed,” he says with a sigh. “I’d take you to all the places you want to go. We’d do every touristy thing from the Louvre to the Eiffel Tower.”
“Do you speak French?” I ask.
“Oui, je le parle assez bien.”
“Okay, so that’s hot,” I say, before I can stop myself. “Like so hot.”
He chuckles. “Voulez-vous que je vous murmure des mots doux à l'oreille pendant que nous faisons l'amour?”
“What did you just say?” I whisper back. “What does that mean?”
“It means, ‘Would you like me to whisper sweet nothings in your ear while we make love?’”
“Oooh.” A little tingle goes through me, and I draw nearer. “I love that.”
“I’ll remember that,” he says, then he sighs heavily. He holds one of my hands in both of his, protectively.
He sighs. “I can’t take you, lassie. There could be enemies that we face.”
What he doesn’t know is that his enemy’s by his side.
Chapter 17
Mac
“Mac, please,” she asks again.
I shake my head. Christ, I have to do this. I don’t want to.
“I wish I could take you with me,” I tell her. She sits on the sofa in the living room and gives me a quizzical look.
“What do you mean?”
I stand in front of her, hating myself for what I’m about to do.
“You can’t come with me, Bryn.”
She frowns and looks quizzically at me. “Listen, Mac, if you're afraid that it's too dangerous for me, think about how you didn't like leaving me last night. You wanted to protect me. You said you were the only one that could.”
There's almost a desperation in her eyes that puzzles me at first. Does she know what I'm about to say?
“You can't come with me because it isn't safe, but there's more than that. It's because… the two of us together… we’re not safe. It's because we never should've dated to begin with.” She flinches as if I've just struck her. But I have to continue, I have to finish this.
“You can stay here tonight, but you can't come with me to Paris.”
God, Bryn, can you ever forgive me for what I’m about to do?
I take a deep breath. “Because there's no future for the two of us together.”
It’s the only way you’ll know, Leith said. We can’t know if she’s spying on us if you’re still together. You have to push her away.
“Mac,” she says. She stands up and steps toward me, her eyes wide as she brings her fingers to her throat. “I can’t…” she shakes her head from side to side. “There are things you don’t know. Things I can’t… things I can’t tell you.”
She looks desperate. Terrified, even. I feel like a fucking arsehole when a loud knock sounds at the door.
“That’s your guard. They’ll stay with you while I go to Paris. They’ll keep you safe until I get home.” I take a step toward her, allowing a moment of truth before I let her go. “You have to know I love you.”
She looks up at me with wide eyes brimming with tears.
I didn’t plan this part. “I love you, Bryn. I don’t want to break up with you. But it isn’t safe for either of us anymore.”
She shakes her head and blinks, two fat tears rolling down her pretty cheeks, her mascara running. “You can’t go to Paris without me, Mac, you can’t.”
I lean in and give her a parting kiss. I swallow her breath and hold her to me, my hands at her lower back. She breathes me in, and I deepen the kiss, tipping her head back and marking her as mine.
I hope she’ll forgive me. God, I hope they’re all wrong, and I hope she’ll forgive me.
I pull away from her reluctantly, my heart breaking at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. Her lip wobbles as I let her go and gently lead her back to the sofa.
“I have to go,” I tell her.
I turn my back to her. She calls my name, but I walk away.
The door shuts with finality behind me as I leave.
I hate myself.
I fucking hate what I’ve done.
I call Leith.
“Did you do it?”
“Aye.”
We’re silent as I slide into the car and we make the long drive to the airport.
“You alright?”
“No.”
Again, we don’t speak for long minutes. Finally, his voice sorrowful and hoarse, he says, “I’m sorry, Mac.”
“It wasn’t your fault. I did what I had to. I’m not sure she’ll take me back after this.”
“Christ.”
Another moment passes, until finally he speaks again. “It’s the only way we’ll know what she was up to. If she’s guilty, she’ll do something desperate. Might go to her father. If she’s innocent, she’ll leave here in a huff. She’ll forgive you when you explain yourself.”
“How do you fucking know that?”