Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Instantly, he shut down, jerking away from her. “We fuck a couple of times, and you think you can read me?”
The rain fell softly, steadily, into the silence, like tears on her face. On his. Her hair was slick and plastered back, dripping now. She stood very still, a small little defeated fairy in the dark forest, the beast snapping his teeth at her.
“Ambrielle . . .” What the hell was he supposed to say after that outburst?
She shook her head and gave him a half smile that was pure bullshit. Never reached her eyes. Didn’t light up her face. “No, don’t apologize. You’re right. You’re completely right. I’m going to go back. It’s cold out here and I’m really tired. I might sit in the truck and sleep while you do your thing with Reese and Tyra.”
“Don’t go. I don’t want you to go.” He didn’t stop her physically because he believed she needed choices. She hadn’t had them when Thompson had her parents killed or when he tried to force her to marry him. Master was determined that she would always have choices if he could give them to her and still keep her safe. “Please, Ambrielle. I was pushing you away because for a minute there, I was being a fucking pussy.”
A ghost of a smile touched her mouth. One eyebrow quirked at him. “Please do continue.”
This woman. How could he not find her the most interesting, cool, sexy, everything woman on the planet? She just was. He held out his hand. “We have to walk some more. Can you do it on this ground without hurting your feet?”
“It’s soft enough. Why don’t you just bury all those pieces in one spot?” She walked with him another hundred yards, and he began digging under the roots of an extremely tall cypress.
“I don’t want to take any chances that they’ll find this thing. I think it’s hot.”
“Start talking.”
He sighed. He owed it to her. “You don’t share this shit. And I’m only telling you because I acted like a coward. I let you in, and when I felt that, the door opening on my past, something I never let happen, I wanted to push what I was feeling for you away. Instead, I pushed you away hard. I didn’t mean what I said to you.”
His tone was low, but both shame and sincerity came through. She didn’t answer until he finished scattering the dirt, leaves and needles over the ground and straightened, finally looking at her. She was a mess, but still so beautiful he ached inside.
“I understand feeling like that. The thought of losing you terrifies me just as much as holding on to you does. If I count on you and believe in you and you let me down, I know I won’t make it through. I do understand, and in some ways, it helps that we’re kind of in the same boat, so to speak.”
He didn’t see how, since he was the jackass that had taken the last little sparkle from her eyes. He started walking again, choosing a path of soft dirt that would make it easy on her feet. He was carrying her back, whether she liked it or not.
“Talk to me, Kir.”
Had she called him Master, like everyone else, he might have been able to resist, but she insisted on using his given name. “You have the wrong impression of me, you know. Ink’s the one who takes care of those men. He makes sure they don’t drink and they stay on the right path so they can have decent lives. I don’t do that. He does.” He was stalling. He knew it. Evidently, so did she.
“Those people are staying on your property, in cabins you renovated for them. You found them in prison and decided to help them when they got out.”
He winced a little as he stopped to dig the next hole. “It wasn’t exactly like that. I had fifteen cabins on the property, all needing work. I like to work with my hands. With wood. It brings me peace.” He shoved the gun parts deep and pushed the dirt over them. “I didn’t fix them up with the idea of having anyone stay in them. I didn’t want neighbors. I bought this property to be away from everyone.”
She remained silent. Waiting. He sighed and straightened again after he strewed dirt and pine needles over the covered hole. “I don’t know how to do this, Ambrielle. I want to, I just don’t know how.”
He reached for her, not caring if she was going to protest. She was shivering constantly. The rain came down steadily, and she was soaked. It was cold, and the wind had enough chill in it to make her miserable. She didn’t complain. Not one word. The moment he cradled her close to his chest, she turned into him, her arms going around his neck.