Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“So, two years ago?” I prompt.
He nods, sighing. “My sister, Yasmin, she’s a proud woman. At least, she was a proud woman before she saw where that would lead her. She was struggling to pay her mortgage. I had no clue.”
He looks at me, his mouth tight, his eyes intoxicatingly intense. It’s almost to the point where I want to turn away, just so I can think clearly.
And at the same time, the idea of turning away, of not staring into this man’s gaze, feels wrong.
“It wasn’t that I don’t care about family,” he says intensely. “Yasmin and Felicia – that’s my niece – were the most important people to me. Family is the most important thing to me.”
I reach over and touch his arm, the gesture feeling both new and familiar. Squeezing, I feel the strength and firmness of his muscles.
“I believe you,” I say.
All the while, I’m pushing down on the tempting voice inside of me.
It tells me he’s making such a point about family because he wants me to know he’ll be loyal to our family.
And….
He said when we were talking about Yasmin and Felicia. They were the most important people to him.
Could that mean that I am now?
“So what happened next?” I ask, pushing that insanity down deep.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Felix
“She didn’t tell me she’d lost her job,” I go on, already missing the warm pressure of Freya’s hand against my arm. “If I’d known, I would’ve helped her. I didn’t spend much when I was in Special Forces. In fact, I invested most of it.”
I wonder if part of me is adding this detail, so my woman will know I’m capable of taking care of our family when the time comes.
When the time comes.
The phrase repeats over and over in my mind.
From her point of view, the time in question isn’t within an hour of meeting each other or telling her I was hired to kill her.
“But Yasmin didn’t want to ask me for help.”
“Why not?” Freya asks softly.
Despite the gentleness of her voice, I’m sure I can detect some passion as if waiting beneath the surface.
Or maybe I’m projecting. Maybe Freya has no desire to do anything sexual, intimate, or in between.
I shrug as I guide the car away from the city, the GPS telling me we’re only twenty minutes away.
“Maybe because of how she feels about our childhood. But that isn’t relevant.”
“I’d like to know,” Freya says.
It’s difficult to look at her for longer than a few moments, my natural instinct trying to get me to lean across, kiss her, forget Mr. Red, and all that mess exists.
She’s staring up at me with accepting eyes, her lips slightly parted as though still expecting a kiss.
“Our parents died when we were young. I was nineteen and already in the military. Yasmin was only eleven. She was able to stay with my uncle…but he didn’t have much money, so I sent him a monthly payment to make sure Yasmin had everything she needed.”
“That’s wonderful,” Freya whispers. “Not about your parents…I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” I mutter. “And there isn’t much you can say about an icy road and poor driving conditions. There’s no one to blame. It’s just bad luck.”
“Yeah,” Freya mutters. “I get that. I’ve got a friend whose dad died in a gas explosion.”
I wonder if that’s Julie, the one she mentioned before. Julie called her minutes before Freya, and I met…minutes.
Is that a coincidence? I need to figure that out.
“Anyway,” I go on. “Yasmin got into debt. I tried to get her out of it, but it was bad. They were making threats to Felicia’s life. It was difficult enough with the deadbeat dad disappearing to Europe, so he didn’t have to pay his kid’s way.”
My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I imagine doing the same thing that asshole did.
“I can’t understand a man like that,” I snarl. “I get not wanting kids, not having them. But once a man has a child, it’s his job to ensure that child has everything they need and the best course in life. My dad was the same before he passed.”
I’ve never had strong views about this, except where Yasmin and Felicia are concerned, but it’s difficult not to think about my own future children.
I’d never abandon Freya, never run from the duty, the blessing of being a father.
“Me neither,” Freya says, her voice trembling.
My instincts try to make me look at her, but there’s too much heat in her tone, too much that will make me lean over and kiss her, slide my hand up her leg so she can feel how badly I want her.
“I was forced to make a deal with her creditors,” I go on. “It turns out they’d sold the loan to a man called Mr. Red.”
“Mr. Red?” she says, laughing awkwardly.