Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I, on the other hand, could speak for hours about Vivaldi, but when it came to clothes, shoes, or gossip, I was lost.
Even if my mind hadn’t been occupied mainly by Reid, who had returned to his post near the entrance, a permanent scowl on his face.
I was so far out of my depth, the only thing I could do was listen politely, sip my sherry, and try not to rub the spot on my shoulder where my cello would usually rest.
After what felt like years, the baroness rose to leave.
Looking down her nose at me, her upper lip curled as she turned to Mary Astrid. “You misled me regarding her breeding and decorum, but hopefully with some vigorous training, she won’t be a total loss.”
Misled her? So I had Mary Astrid’s meddling to thank for this.
Mary nodded as she slipped her arm through her friend’s, after giving a long-suffering sigh. “At least you have a chance with her. I’m afraid my own daughter is a hopeless disappointment to me.”
My mouth dropped open, ready to defend Amelia if not myself.
Amelia placed her hand on my right knee as Olivia placed hers on my left.
Amelia leaned in. “Don’t. Trust me. It’s not worth it.”
My lips thinned as I nodded.
Again, I wondered if this was my life now. Subsisting on swallowed words.
With their departure, the rest of the guests moved to join the men.
The parlor was empty.
Except for me… and Reid.
Swallowing my pride, I rose and ran my sweaty palms over my voluptuous tulle skirt before crossing the room. Clearing my throat, I whispered, “Sergeant Taylor, may I have a word?”
I had no idea what I wanted to say to him, only that I needed to say something.
After a long pause, he finally spoke. “No.” He then turned and walked out of the room.
It took more strength than I knew I possessed to not just crumple to the floor and cry.
CHAPTER 19
REID
Icould murder the slimy bastard and make it look like an accident.
Or I could kidnap, then murder him, burying the body where no one would ever find it, depriving his disgusting mother of the solace of finding his body.
Even better, I could snap the bastard’s neck in broad daylight while he was standing next to his mummy dearest, and disappear into the crowd before his body even hit the ground.
No. That was too easy.
I’d get far more satisfaction puncturing a vein and watching the blood and life slowly drain from the man’s eyes as he writhed around on a filthy, warehouse floor.
What was I thinking?
None of these plans were practical.
If I murdered the piece of shit, her father would just find another one.
No. What I needed to do was kidnap Charlotte.
Drag her away to some isolated shack on a beach on the other side of the world, where I would fuck her senseless until her belly swelled with my child.
Then there would be nothing her father could do to separate us.
Curling my hands around my steering wheel, I let out a howl of rage as I rattled the wheel with my grip.
There wasn’t a chance in hell I would do any of that for the simple reason that it would upset and embarrass Charlotte.
Charlotte.
My sweet babygirl.
My sweet, innocent martyr to her family name.
I knew all about the hard pull of responsibility when it came to the family legacy. I’d resisted a similar pull several years ago, but it had cost me dearly. I hadn’t spoken to my own father, or anyone in my family, for close to a decade.
She was right about one thing. Freedom had a steep price.
I went to a bar to drown my frustration in a few drinks, but my rage did not abate.
How dare they disrespect my princess like that?
They took that beautiful angel and made her feel worthless.
After several drinks and turning down a few women, I left my truck in the parking lot and walked back to the estate, hoping the cold air would sober me up.
I had been just drunk enough to actually consider doing this, and now I was sober enough to pull it off.
In only a few moments, I went from being outside to standing at Charlotte’s bedroom door. Being the head of security and knowing all the guards and alarm codes had their benefits.
It was well after 2:00 a.m. and she was curled up in bed asleep, like an adorable little kitten.
This was wrong. Her bedroom should be sacred, somewhere that no one could enter, let alone a drunk man with a massive chip on his shoulder, and a raging pierced hard-on.
“Princess, wake up,” I said, stumbling into her room.
“Reid?” she asked, blinking several times and clearing the sleep from her eyes.
“Shhh,” I said as I took off my shirt, throwing it to the side and then kicking off my boots. “We don’t want to wake anyone up.”