Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 94024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“I like board games.” I changed the subject. “Winner gets to ask twenty questions?”
“Steep.” He played with my hair, wrapping it around his right hand the way Breaker used to, then as if realizing he was touching me again, he stopped. “I’ll agree to your terms, if and only if I can pick the game.”
“Trickery.” I pointed at him. “But I accept, as long as I know how to play.”
“All right,” He helped me off his lap but didn’t let go of my hand. I felt my ring press against his fingers and liked it. I liked it a lot but couldn’t figure out why.
He led me past the living room and into a large office that I imagined was his. There were no windows, only a huge fireplace on one wall, and another family portrait hanging on the other.
There were burn marks around the picture like the flames had tried to destroy it but couldn’t.
“Must have been some fire.”
“It would have to be to cause my scarring…” And then he changed the subject. “There it is, the old checkerboard. My mom used to play with me in here before…”
“Before what?” I sat down on the plush brown leather couch while he pulled the table over to us and set the game on top.
“Red or black?”
“Red.”
He seemed to like that answer as he gave me the red checkers and took the black.
The fireplace gave us enough heat that I didn’t need to scoot closer to him, but I wanted to, so I’d use being cold as an excuse, plus something about the room creeped me out.
“Are you going to ignore my question?” I asked.
“Do you have a right to ask since you haven’t even won the game yet?” He shot right back.
I straightened. “Fine, I’ll ask after I kick your ass.”
“I’ve never lost.”
“Then, I’ll try to make the pain quick.” I winked.
He stared at me for a few seconds. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”
“And innocent,” I grumbled.
“Something tells me my princess knows how to get dirty if she wants to.”
The compliment made me blush.
“Ladies first.” He nodded toward me, the mask did a good job hiding his face, all red and black, intimidating as hell, but necessary, apparently, until I was ready.
The game was quick.
And as predicted, I won.
Minutes later, he was still staring at the board in disbelief. “But—”
“Aw, better luck next time, husband.”
His head shot up. “Say it again.”
“Husband,” I whispered.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “You have no idea how nice that sounds, especially in this room.”
“Twenty questions.” I grinned and rubbed my hands together. “Anything off-limits?”
“I’ll let you know.” The corners of his mouth ticked up in a small smile that gave me the impression he was thinking about kissing me. He reached across the table, grabbed a crystal decanter, and poured each of us two small glasses of something that looked like brandy or whiskey.
“Sip slow.” He winked. “It’s Russian.”
“It’s not vodka. Are you even allowed to have other alcohols?” I teased.
“Great fist question, yes, actually we are.”
“Not fair.”
“I never play fair.” He licked his full bottom lip, drawing my attention to it before I could look away. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’m throwing this mask off, apologizing for the shock, and taking you against this couch.”
“Why would I be shocked?”
“We don’t have enough time to even begin that conversation, princess. Just know, things aren’t always what they seem. We see, a lot of times, what we’re told to see.”
“Vague.” I sipped the whiskey and made a face. “Wow, now I know why you said sip.”
“Next question.” He leaned back against the couch, crossing one of his legs over his knee.
Why did I want to sit in his lap again?
What was wrong with me?
I gave my head a shake. “The fire, what happened?”
He sighed and leaned forward again, clasping his hands in front of him. “Another long story, I was young, really young. My mom and I were living together, my dad was… killed when I was even younger. I barely remember him, and his dad, my grandpa, was also killed. He was bad, though, so…” He shrugged. “I was hidden here. Only one person knew I existed, and he wanted me dead.”
I covered my mouth with my hands.
“People often do, when they see a throne they want to sit on,” he continued. “The fire was too hot. My mom got me out, but I was upset.” His voice started to shake. “I slept with this stupid blanket ever since I was a kid. It had a white horse on it, and I pretended—” His voice cracked. “I pretended that one day, my dad would come through that door and save me, claim me, that my life wouldn’t always be about death and secrets. You know what’s really stupid? I just wanted to go to a theme park with him, spend the day with him, hear him say he was proud of me. Every little boy needs to hear those words from his father, and I imagined if I had that blanket, one day, it would just… happen, like the magic my mom convinced me existed once I realized that I wasn’t a bastard but actually loved.”