Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 142938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Believe me, helping you is the most important thing to me right now.”
He shook a pill from a bottle and handed it to her and then held out a cool bottle of water that was already sitting on the nightstand. It had beads of condensation on it, which meant someone else was in the house. She shivered and glanced up to look at the vents piping in the air-conditioning.
“He can’t get in here,” Vittorio assured. “We have all sorts of alarms he wouldn’t have a clue about. Just to be safe, I had my men go through every vent and add more precautions. You need to lie down. Let’s get this skirt off.”
Her first fleeting thought was to protest, but she was too tired, and the skirt was heavy. Everything felt heavy. She just wanted to lie down. The faster she managed to do that, the better the chances to go to sleep. She pressed her feet to the mattress and lifted her hips, so he could slide the skirt off her, leaving her in the semi-sheer stretch lace low-rise boy short underwear his sister had brought for her. She had them in every color. They were the only panties she had with her. The back rose up to show off her cheeks and there were little laces threaded through the material right at the seam of her cheeks, giving them a corset effect and showing off a lot of her bottom.
She didn’t even blush. She couldn’t. He had pulled back the covers to reveal ivory sheets. She slid both legs between the cool sheets and let him help her lie back. The shifting of her body from upright to prone had black edges pouring around the light so she was afraid she might actually faint. It felt like it. Dizziness swamped her and without thinking she reached for him to steady her. An anchor. She was already beginning to think of him like that.
His hand turned to catch hers, strong fingers closing over her entire hand, enveloping it, and then his thumb was there, back to sliding caresses over her skin. She concentrated on the way the movement made her feel, letting it soothe her, letting it chase away the dizziness.
“Thank you, Vittorio.”
“You’re very welcome, Grace. I’ve had an intercom installed. You just press this button.” He put what appeared to be a remote onto the mattress beside her hand. “If you need me for any reason, I’ll be here immediately.”
She nodded, but she didn’t want him to leave. Her body was already adjusting to the position, so the brutal pain was easing enough that she knew she could sleep if she wasn’t so programmed to fear Haydon could find her and hurt her. She looked up again at the vents. They were up along the high ceilings and down along the floor. Everywhere. He had too many ways in. She told herself not to be a baby or a bother, but . . .
“I’m going to stay here, Grace,” Vittorio assured suddenly. “I won’t leave while you’re asleep. He’s not going to get past my guards, and he won’t get past me. He can’t gas us without setting off alarms, and the alarms have battery backups, so he can’t disable the system. You’re safe here. I’m not leaving you, bella, so close your eyes for me and go to sleep.”
She felt the whisper of his fingers slide over her eyes, and then along her temples and back to her eyes. Vittorio made it easy to feel safe with him. She didn’t fully understand why, when she hadn’t allowed anyone close to her since she was a child, she trusted Vittorio Ferraro. It was a strange choice, but he made her feel safe, when no one else ever had. She let her lashes sweep down and drifted away on a sea of pain but dreaming of a man who stood in front of her, refusing to allow Haydon Phillips to terrify her anymore.
Grace woke choking in the dark, fighting, pinned down, trying to kick her way free. Her legs were tangled in the sheets. Her body was drenched in sweat, so much so that her hair was clinging to her head in a damp mess. Her heart pounded wildly, and her lungs refused to work properly. She heard sobbing and knew she was the one crying, but she was so disconnected from it that she couldn’t find a way to stop.
Grace, you’re okay. I’m right here.”
The voice came out of the darkness. Low. Gentle. Calm. She barely heard over the roar of her blood in her ears. Still, the sound caught at her and she clung to it like an anchor in a storm.
“Open your eyes for me, gattina. I’m right here with you. I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder. I want you to feel my touch, know it’s me.”