Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“Definitely not the shot part.”
“I’m sorry,” Philippe whispered. “I—”
“What? Didn’t expect there to be danger when looking for your lost child?” Rafe asked. There was a mocking bite to his voice, and Philippe was starting to think that this might be some of the real person showing through. The careful diplomat was gone and he liked it, liked seeing the real man.
“No, I…” The words were caught in his throat and Philippe forced himself to meet Rafe’s gaze. “I didn’t think I’d care. You’re a Varik. I’m an Arsenault. We both knew the danger when I asked for your help and the Variks agreed. I…I didn’t think I’d care if you got hurt.”
Rafe’s lips lifted into a slow smile that managed to heat every part of Philippe’s body. No one should be as sexy as Rafe. It went against the very laws of nature. This couldn’t be his secret power. He was older than Rafe and was confident he’d feel any attempts on Rafe’s part to use his gift.
Lifting his right hand, Rafe lightly ran his thumb along Philippe’s jaw. “Thank you. I do appreciate your concern.”
“If…if you’d rather walk away now—”
“My brothers would be the first to tell you I’m incredibly stubborn.” Rafe stopped and smiled a strange, secret smile. “We all are,” he corrected. His focus returned to Philippe, and his thumb slid down to his chin. “Now that I’ve been shot, I’m more determined to find your culprit and make him pay for this. I’m not fond of being shot.”
Philippe smirked and carefully moved his chin from Rafe’s touch, returning his attention to the buttons in front of him. He tugged the last bit from his pants and finished. Moving around Rafe, he pulled the shirt off his uninjured shoulder first, then slowly peeled it away from the other. The left half of his torso was painted with his blood, but the wounds had healed closed. His pale flesh was badly bruised and looked like it was still causing Rafe a great deal of pain.
Grabbing the shirt from Philippe, Rafe wadded it up and tossed it into a small trash bin behind the bar. “Waste of a nice Armani,” Rafe muttered.
Philippe grabbed the damp cloth and started to wipe away the blood. He could feel Rafe’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look up. Didn’t want to steal his gaze from the beautiful muscles and seductive dark-brown nipple beckoning him in for just a quick lick. He kept his touch light and gentle, not wanting to cause Rafe any more pain than he already suffered.
“Thank you,” Rafe murmured as Philippe reached for the towel to dry him.
Philippe chuckled, though the sound came out somewhat shaky. “I feel like I should be thanking you.”
“I’m sure you have your pick of sexy creatures begging to visit your bed each night,” Rafe teased, and Philippe kept his mouth shut. He’d had his share of partners over the years, but they had grown few and far between in the last couple of decades. Rafe was the first to truly tempt him in more years than he wanted to consider.
Wrapping the washcloth in the towel, he set them aside and helped Rafe into his shirt. It was a shame to cover up that beauty, but it was easier for Philippe to complete a coherent thought if Rafe was fully dressed.
Philippe stepped back and looked up at Rafe. “Your color is better now. Shall we send a picture to your brother to reassure him that you’re still in one piece?”
Rafe’s grin was laced with surprise, but he nodded as he pulled out his phone. “Do you mind?”
Philippe accepted the unlocked phone and pulled up the camera app while Rafe grabbed his nearly empty glass. He posed, partially leaning on the bar with the glass in hand. There was a wicked smirk on his lips that just seemed to embody his overall attitude. Philippe snapped a couple of pictures and handed the phone to Rafe, allowing him to text his brother the critical proof of his good health. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Rafe to send him a copy as well.
But he was letting his mind get muddy when it came to Rafe. It was best if they focused on why he was working with Rafe in the first place. Of course, that meant having a somewhat uncomfortable conversation.
“Earlier, you brought up an interesting point. Piper has no one I know of in her life that would specifically attack her,” Philippe said as he walked around the bar and into the living room.
“So now we have the dilemma of who was shooting at us and who took your little lamb. Right now, I’m inclined to say they are one and the same person.”
Philippe looked up to find that Rafe had followed him. His movements were easier, smoother than they had been. The wounds were mostly healed, and he was nearly back to being his usual devilish self. Half the furniture in the room separated them, and Philippe wasn’t sure if it was enough.