Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Roman didn’t follow.
ROMAN
I let her go, the strange feeling of helplessness hitting my chest. I had seen the sudden realization in her eyes. The pain of her sister’s actions hitting her. Understanding had dawned—hurt and betrayal had set in. I watched it all happen in the kaleidoscope colors of her eyes.
I walked to the window, the lights on the Falls changing and reflecting on the waters. Much the way Effie’s eyes changed and swirled in the lights.
I listened, not hearing anything. I wondered if she was crying. Or if she had simply collapsed on the floor, too exhausted to give in to the emotions tearing through her.
I wondered why I cared so much.
I picked up the glass on my desk and poured in some scotch. Nothing had prepared me for the events of the past few days. I had no clue how to go forward.
What to do with Effie.
Except, until the danger had passed, I had to keep her safe. That much, I knew. It was my responsibility to do so since it was my anger that had put the idea in Marianne’s head.
The thought that one day Effie would know that made me take a deep swallow of my scotch. She would be so horrified, she would walk away. She’d been betrayed by her sister and, in a way, me as well.
The idea of that made my chest ache in a particularly painful way.
I rubbed at it, wondering if the wine sauce on the chicken was giving me heartburn. That made more sense than Effie’s rejection. Because that was exactly what she would do.
Reject me.
I checked on her an hour later, concerned when I didn’t find her in the bed or the chair. The bathroom door was shut and the light off, and I listened before turning the handle. Effie was on the floor, curled into a ball, a towel piled up on the floor with her. I crouched down, shaking my head. She’d come in here and sobbed into a towel until she fell asleep from exhaustion.
Alone.
I knew with a certainty that she’d been alone for a long time.
Carefully, I gathered her into my arms and carried her to my bed. With the brighter light, I could see how hard she’d cried. There was still wetness under her eyes, the traces of the salty tears on her cheeks. Her nose was red, and her lip had bled some, no doubt from biting it while crying. She was so pale that the bruises were vivid on her skin.
My constantly simmering anger roared to life, and I wished her sister were in front of me. My no-hurting-women policy was canceled when it came to Marianne. If I ever found her, my punishment for this heinous crime would not be fast or pleasant. And I would enjoy every moment of it.
I pulled the blanket over Effie and stood back.
I felt weary—something that was rare for me. I only required a few hours sleep. I was up late with the casino and usually awake and at the gym before dawn. But at the moment, I felt as if I could sleep for days. No doubt the night spent in the chair had something to do with it.
I showered and changed, then returned to my desk. I finished the paperwork, approved payroll, then scanned the items Margi had given me. Effie was organized and efficient with her bookkeeping. She ran a tight ship, with no huge expenditures and careful budgeting. She had a modest monthly profit, and she paid her employees a living wage. Living upstairs, she kept her expenses low, and she practiced the same budgeting for her personal life. I was impressed by everything I looked at. The difference between the two sisters was night and day in their ways of living, attitudes, and values.
I heard a noise, and I hurried down the hall. Effie was whimpering in her sleep, and I hushed her, running my fingers through her hair. It was silky and full. Every time I stopped, she began to frown, making little noises in her throat. Reaching a decision, I rounded the bed and carefully lay beside her. I rolled onto my side, touching her hair again, and she relaxed. I shut my eyes, enjoying the quiet of the room. Her soft breathing. The scent of her hair was light and floral.
I breathed it in, planning on staying for a short while then going back to my desk.
At least, that was the plan.
CHAPTER 9
ROMAN
Iwoke up, something tickling my nose. I fisted the thick material in my hand, slowly realizing what I was holding was not material, but hair.
Someone—a woman—was in bed with me, and I was holding her hair. She was lying across my chest, snuggled tightly against me. And she smelled really good. I opened my eyes, confirming I was in my private suite.