Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“You’re not going anywhere. At least not alone. Rose, isn’t it?”
“Yes, have we—” Without thinking, I turn my head. The light from the streetlamp illuminates one side of his face, the other side in deep shadow.
And I draw a quick breath.
It’s him.
It’s my target.
Apollo Volos.
Chapter Three
Apollo
As soon as she’s safely inside my limousine, I turn her face to the courtesy light to check for injuries. There’s a cut above her right eyebrow. It doesn’t look deep, but it has me wanting to jump out, drag that fucker back here and shove him in the trunk to deal with later, but she’s asked me not to kill him and for some reason that means something to me.
I can barely keep my eyes off her tits as they rise and fall with every breath. I can barely keep my hands from wandering down to her legs, pushing that dress up and getting to the honey-and-cream jackpot I just know is waiting between her thighs.
Even after what she just experienced, I’m having to hold back from forcing myself on her. I’m a fucking monster.
Rose fucking Aiken. Or Agent Cassandra Divine, if we’re being honest.
Which we’re not, because I’m pretending I have no idea who she really is while she lies right to my face.
That makes me angry. Which is good. I need to use that anger.
“I’m fine,” she insists. “Thank you for helping me, but I can make it back home now.”
I ignore her, turning to my driver. “Get us out of here, Daniel. Before I do something I might regret.”
“Yes, sir.”
This isn’t the first time I’ve cut off someone’s ear, but it’s been a while. I usually try to keep my own hands clean these days. But when I saw that fuck trying to rape a woman the red mist descended over my eyes.
Then when I recognized her?
He’s lucky it wasn’t his dick I took my knife to.
She’s shaking her head, insisting that she can’t go with me, that she doesn’t know who I am. Lies. Fucking lies. She knows exactly who I am. But sure, I’ll play along.
“My name is Apollo Volos,” I say through gritted teeth. “And I promise you won’t come to any harm. I have a first aid kit at home, and a doctor on call if I think you need it, Miss Aiken.”
“You—you can call me Rose,” she says, looking confused. And this time I think it’s genuine. I guess she never expected her target to take her home so easily and without any promises. “I don’t need a doctor.”
“I didn’t ask your opinion. I’ll decide what you need.”
“Excuse me?”
I meet her gaze, and for the second time this evening I’m surprised by my reaction. She’s strong. Not physically, although I think she’s tougher than she looks. But emotionally, she’s strong. She isn’t afraid of me the way she should be right now, she isn’t afraid of this situation either.
Who is this woman? And why does that knowledge build a need inside me that’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life?
Why do I suddenly want to show her parts of myself that I’ve never shown anyone before?
“I’m taking you back to my place,” I tell her firmly, brushing the back of a hand over her cheek. “When we get there, I’ll check you over, and if I think there’s any need for concern, I’ll have the family doctor called out. It’s the least I can do.”
I don’t care about her. I don’t. She’s nothing.
It’s just that if anything happens to her, I can’t succeed with my plan to hurt her boss. That’s the only reason I’m doing this. It’s the only reason I care about her well-being.
I remind myself that she’s playing me right now too. She knows exactly who I am and all she wants is to find evidence she can take back to Jackson. Well, tonight at least there is none, unless she wants to tell him about what just happened with that fuck in the alley behind the bar. But something tells me she isn’t going to mention that to anyone.
She’s looking at me with disapproval, like I’m some sort of Neanderthal. What did I say that was so wrong? That I was going to take care of her?
Fuck. Why do I suddenly care what she thinks of me?
“I promise I won’t do anything without your consent,” I tell her, watching for any sign of doubt in those dark eyes.
Finally, she nods. “I believe you.”
“Tell me about yourself, Rose,” I tell her. It isn’t a question. It’s a demand, like I’m running an interview. I try to make my voice gentle, but I need to know. I need to know things, even if they’re untrue.
She shrugs. “There isn’t much to tell. I’m new in town. I’m a florist…”
“So tell me about that.”
“About…”
“What made you want to be a florist?”