Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
He hands the device to me, and I press it to my ear. “Papa?”
My father lets out a sigh. “I hoped you wouldn’t find out. You’re safe with Mr. Levin, mon amour.”
Incredulous, I say, “But, he’s an…an assassin.”
“Which is why he’s guarding you, mon amour.”
My eyebrows knit together. “But if this information gets out, it will ruin you.”
“Leave the worry to me,” Papa replies. “Just know you’re safe with Mr. Levin.”
We talk for a minute longer before we end the call. I hand the phone back to Max and shake my head for what feels like the hundredth time.
It feels like I’ve been thrown into the twilight zone.
“Better?” Max asks.
“Not by a long shot, but it all makes sense now.” My eyes move over every inch of his handsome face. “You being so cold and distant. Not showing any emotions.” My gaze settles on his. “That’s why it was hard for you to interact with me.”
Max nods, then tilts his head. “You’re safe with me, and as soon as the threat has been dealt with, I’ll disappear, and you’ll never see me again.”
There’s a stabbing sensation in my chest.
“Now you understand why we can’t be friends.”
I nod, the stabbing sensation creating a hole in my heart.
My eyes lift, and I look at the killer standing in front of me. “I’m going to need some time to process this.”
“That’s understandable.”
Slowly, I step around him, then say, “I’m going to bed.”
I don’t think I’ll shut an eye tonight. Not because I feel unsafe with Max but because I have to process the fact that I started to care about him.
He’s a trained killer, though, and I’m just an ordinary woman, so we can’t even be friends. We’re complete opposites.
Still, with all the time we’ve spent together, I already consider him a friend.
I already care.
How will I continue to live in the same space with him without feeling anything?
He’s a killer.
He’s killed before, and he will kill again.
Jesus, my bodyguard is an assassin.
I shake my head again as I walk into my bedroom and shut the door behind me.
It feels like my body is on autopilot as I strip out of my dress. I pull on a pair of comfy shorts and a T-shirt before going through my skincare routine.
When I’m ready for bed, I stand in the middle of my room and stare at the closed door.
If I had known he was an assassin when I met him, I would’ve freaked out, but after getting to know him a little, I trust he won’t hurt me.
I trust that he’ll do everything he can to keep me alive.
I trust an assassin.
Slowly, I walk to the door, and not making a sound, I open it. My bare feet are silent on the floor as I sneak down the hallway. Reaching Max’s room, I pause when I see the door is slightly ajar.
My breathing slows as I peek into the bedroom, and seeing him checking his weapon before he sets it down on the bed has my heart skipping a beat.
Suddenly he murmurs, “You can come in.”
Jesus.
I place a hand against the doorjamb as I take a step into the room. “How did you know I was here?”
“I felt you.” His eyes flick to me as he pulls the tie free from around his neck.
My abdomen flushes with heat, and I have to wonder if there’s something wrong with me. Sure, the man was hot before I learned the truth about him, but now that I know how dangerous he really is, it’s as if the attraction I feel for him has been multiplied by a thousand.
I do like a bad boy as much as the next woman.
But he’s not a bad boy, Camille. He’s a violent man. There’s a huge difference.
His closed-off personality had me curious, but now I’m just downright ravenous for more information about him.
But I’m also cautious because the last thing I want to do is to piss him off.
My eyebrows pinch together as I ask, “Can I ask questions?”
He shrugs off his jacket, and when he starts to roll up his dress shirt’s sleeves, my eyes drink in the sight of the veins snaking beneath his skin.
“What do you want to know?”
My gaze darts back to his face, and when he walks toward me, I backpedal until I’m pressed against the glass banister. I gesture to the living room. “Can we talk down there?”
He nods and waits for me to walk before following me. Every nerve in my back tingles, and I can’t resist the urge to glance over my shoulder every few seconds.
Max waits for me to take a seat on the couch before he sits down on the armchair. Leaning forward, he rests his forearms on his thighs and links his fingers together.
Nervously I tuck some hair behind my ear. My eyes dart around the open living space before settling on him, then I let out a nervous chuckle. “I actually don’t know what I want to ask.”