Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Okay.” Her voice is low, barely a whisper.
I look down at our entangled hands. Her skin is soft, and her hand is so small in mine. I can feel the pulse in her wrist. The beat is mesmerizing.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, and I can hear the curiosity in her voice.
“You,” I admit. “I’m thinking about you.”
And it’s true. I can’t stop thinking about her. About how the universe put her in my orbit—albeit in a less than favorable way. But that doesn’t matter. She’s mine now.
Sasha is all I can think about.
I want this woman.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I lock my jaw, unwilling to show all my cards at once.
I hate how weak she makes me. I hate my obsession. “Feeding you,” I clarify. “Now let’s go. We have dinner plans.”
“We do?”
I nod, pulling her toward the exit. “Yes.”
She plants her feet, stopping us once more. “Is it safe to go out in the city?”
I pull her in closer, staring into her beautiful round eyes. “Haven’t you realized yet, when you’re with me, you will always be safe? I’ll move heaven and earth to make sure of that.”
She bites her upper lip and nibbles on it before she nods. I place a chaste kiss on her lip, and together we walk toward the back exit of Lincoln Center. I lead her through dark hallways, and never once does she ever seem afraid.
It’s funny. She’s not scared of the dark, only scared of the shadows in her own mind.
Sasha said she used to love to play, but what happened to make her stop for other people?
She mentioned Roman, and my mind is going a mile a minute trying to uncover what he might’ve done to cause the shift in her.
I know there is a story there.
Will she ever tell me?
Together, we step into the quiet alley. There’s no sound but the scuffle of our feet on the ground. It’s a little disconcerting for this part of the city. The air is still heavy from the night, and the only light comes from the one lamppost at the end of the alley.
I know my men are nearby, and that’s the only reason I’m not picking Sasha up and rushing to the car. I don’t give a damn about being confronted on my own, but nobody will get to her.
We are both silent as we get into the waiting car. I wonder what’s going through her mind but opt not to ask. I’m too focused on getting to the restaurant I’ve rented just for us. The anticipation is killing me. Will she like it?
She’s turned away from me, staring out the window, and once again, I wonder what’s going through her head.
“What are you looking at?” I ask, unable to stave off the curiosity.
“The city.” It’s all she offers, and it annoys me. I want more from her.
I want everything.
“And you’re looking at it because?”
She takes a deep breath, blowing it out harshly. “No matter how long I live here, I’ll never get over it.”
My lips smash together, and my nose scrunches up in confusion. “Get over what?”
“It—” She waves her hand around, gesturing to the streets, the lights, the cars. “It’s like a tapestry of lights, a constant work of art. Towering buildings, every one of them unique. Each like a fingerprint. It’s the same with the people. The people.” She sighs. “They’re the stars of the show, bright and shining.”
For several minutes I sit here, stunned by her account of the city. I’ve spent my entire life roaming these streets, and never have I taken the time to truly appreciate it the way she has. Seeing it through her eyes is something entirely different. It’s clear she loves the city.
And an unknown threat has taken it from her.
“You must miss it.”
“I do. But—” She turns to face me, turning her back to her city. “I understand. I know why I can’t be here, and—” She lowers her head, averting her gaze.
I place my fingers under her chin and lift her head so that we’re once again staring into each other’s eyes. “And?”
“I’m grateful to you.”
The car rolls to a stop, and the moment is over. I offer a small smile, and then I’m out of the car and reaching my hand in to help her out. We walk hand in hand, stopping when we’ve arrived just outside of the restaurant.
Around us, music rings through the air.
“Where’s it coming from?” she asks.
I slant my head, taking in the bells chiming. The music comes from a store halfway up the block from where we stand.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Sasha looking at me, her gaze asking me a million questions. Questions I don’t want to answer.
What are you doing? What are you thinking? What are you feeling?