Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“We’re leaving,” Nick says as he begins packing what little I have.
I’m still naked, barely caught my breath from the most erotic reunion known to man. “Why? Where are we going?”
Nick pauses, looks at my naked body and smiles. He then tosses a dress my way to signal it’s time to get dressed. “If I found you this easily, so will someone else.”
Not wanting to argue with him—especially since he’s probably right, I get up and prepare to leave.
“What did you say to the caretakers?” he asks. “Why do they think you’re here?”
“They think I’m Sasha, and I told them I didn’t know how long I would be here. I told them I was just going day by day.”
Nick nods, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “Good. Tell them you met up with a boyfriend and decided to travel to Switzerland and then maybe Austria after that.”
I smirk. Boyfriend… ha. As if Nick Hudson could ever be my boyfriend. The thought is absurd.
“Okay,” I say, reaching for my shoes. “Are we going back to Bishop’s Landing?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. After the boat fire, I don’t think Bishop’s Landing is a good place for either of us to be. Not until we get to the bottom of who did it. And… I’m sure you already know that the men around that table at Wonderland want you in their possession. So until I figure out—” He takes a deep breath, walks over to the veranda and closes the window. “We’ll take some time to enjoy Italy while all the details get worked out.”
Chapter Eight
Nick
It’s a warm night, and the top is down on the sports car. I considered putting the top on, but I need the fresh air. I need the constant blast of air to smack some reality and focus back into me. I hadn’t intended to fuck her ass. I hadn’t intended to touch the woman at all. I wanted to scare the holy shit out of her. I wanted her to plead for mercy. I wanted her to cry and beg for her loved ones’ lives. I wanted to make her pay for playing with my emotions and frankly having my balls in a goddamn vise.
Maybe I should have just cut off her two fingers to teach her a lesson.
But no.
I decided to once again… let down my fucking guard.
I see her looking out the car as we pull off the dirt road and enter the village. Her focus is on a little gelato shop that sits on the edge of the river. Sadness seems to wash over her.
“Sasha said that place is life changing. That I shouldn’t miss trying the gelato.” She sighs. “I guess for another time.”
Glancing at the clock to see it’s two in the morning, I realize I’ve lost all sense of time. But regardless, if Lyriope wants gelato, she’ll get gelato. I pull off to the side of the cobblestone street and turn off the car.
“What are you doing?” Lyriope asks as I walk around the car and open her door, extending my hand to help her out.
“I’m not one to ever miss out on life-changing opportunities.”
“It’s in the middle of the night,” she says, her eyes darting to the dark and closed shop.
If it weren’t for the full moon, I wonder if we’d be able to see it at all. The stone walls seem to blend in with the natural surroundings.
I take her by the hand and walk to the front door. Glancing around, I can see there is a small stairway leading up to an apartment that is above the shop. I’m assuming it’s the storekeeper’s residence, so I decide it will be better knocking on that door rather than the store’s.
“Nick,” Lyriope whispers, tugging on my arm. “We should leave. We can’t just go up there and knock—”
I pull her up the stairs as she protests and knock loudly once, pause, and then twice.
“They might call the police,” Lyriope says, attempting to yank me off the stair landing.
I ignore her.
I can hear movement on the other side of the thick door and the sound of a small dog barking. A light turns on inside and the door cracks open.
“Yes?” an elderly man asks.
I reach into my pocket and pull out a money clip full of hundred-dollar bills. I raise it high enough so the man can see it. “We’ve heard that you have gelato that can’t be missed. We’re leaving the area right now and don’t want to miss out. I’m hoping you can make an exception for us and open your shop.” I wiggle the money clip. “For a generous price, of course.”
His eyes focus on the money, then at me, and then back on the money. He opens the door a little wider revealing he’s in pajamas and a robe. He takes a minute to rub his eyes, pat down his hair, and then nods. “Give me ten minutes,” he says in a very thick Italian accent.