Priceless Read online Jane Henry (Ruthless Doms #1)

Categories Genre: Dark, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Ruthless Doms Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
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I sit up in bed.

Then I remember.

I remember everything.

"What is it?" Nicolai is slouched over on the crappy little armchair across the room, rubbing his eyes, and he looks like he hardly slept at all.

I blink again, and look around the room. I finally release a breath I didn't know I held. "Nothing," I tell him, shaking my head. "It was nothing."

"Did you see something?" he asks, getting to his feet. "Hear something?"

"No," I tell him truthfully, lifting the covers off and swinging my legs out of bed. "I just thought for a minute I was home, and it freaked me out when I wasn't." I get to my feet, and don't meet his eyes. It's awkward, standing here like this in my rumpled dress and messy hair, like I just spent the night at his place, and it couldn't be further from the truth.

"Did you get any sleep at all?" I ask him, but he ignores me and pushing himself to standing.

"Go use the bathroom," he says, not answering my question.

"I don't need to." Jesus, will he order me to swallow and blink next?

"Didn't ask you," he says. "Do what you have to, since you'll have limited access to the facilities for a while."

I spin around to look at him. "And why is that?" Will he tell me anything?

"Because the bastards who want you won't stop until they have you, and we're not planting roots anywhere."

"Fine. Got it, boss," I say, pretending to salute him. I walk past him to go to the bathroom, but gasp when his palm smacks into my ass and I stumble a little.

"Hey!" I yell over my shoulder. I won't look at him. I don't want him to see the way my cheeks flame with embarrassment, so I pretend I'm not as affected as I really am.

"Hey yourself," he repeats, scolding me. “Behave.”

"Is this going to be like a new thing with you?" I snap, racing to the bathroom so he can't smack my ass again.

"Depends," he says, as I step into the bathroom. "If I made myself clear enough last night or not."

I shut the door and press my back against the cool wood, my mouth forming a little "o" I can see in the mirror directly across from where I stand. My eyes are wide and vibrant, my cheeks pink, and I'm breathing heavily.

For years, Nicolai has been the stern, foreboding bodyguard with zero sense of humor. Now, he's... something else. And I don't know how I feel about this. Now that he's stopped censoring every word that comes out of his mouth, every move that he makes, things are radically different.

I don't take much time getting ready, as I still have hardly any toiletries. I'd give anything for some arctic mint toothpaste, my cleanser, a clean pair of panties, and my razor.

I wonder what he did with my phone. I feel weird without it, like a part of me is missing. I check my messages first thing in the morning when I wake up, and I wonder who's trying to reach me. I also wonder where we're going next.

After I use the bathroom, I return to find him holding his wallet and keys, but he's stripped his t-shirt off.

Oh.

Oh God.

I find myself staring open-mouthed at the expanse of his chest. Yesterday was the first time I'd seen him bare-chested. It's shocking to me, somehow, to be so close to his bare skin. He walks in the bathroom after me, but leaves the door open. I surreptitiously sneak glances at him as he makes good use of a washcloth and the slim bar of soap.

There were 500 people in my graduating class in high school and not one of those boys looked like him.

"I take it we're not ordering room service?"

"Room service? Does this look like a place that would have room service?"

I feel my cheeks color. "Guess not. And we're packing light," I mutter.

"Hell yes." He leads me to the door and just in time, since it sounds like our neighbors are ready for a little round two, and if I have to hear those two going at it again—

But shit, it's louder in the hall than in the room.

"Bets on how long he lasts this time," I mutter under my breath. We push the button for the elevator and when it arrives, he holds the door open for me with an arm up, gesturing for me to go inside. But the second the door closes, he's in my space, standing right up next to me, a knuckle under my chin. Holding my gaze to his.

"Listen to me," he says. "When we get out there you will do exactly what I say. Speak to no one. Eye contact with no one. You keep your eyes and head down at all times. If I tell you anything, you do it immediately and without question. Understood?"


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