Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“Don’t do this, Papa. Don’t push me away, not now, not after what I gave you. My first kiss, my first touch, my first—”
I press my fingers to her lips. If she says more, I’ll drag her to my room and our secret will bring down our house by morning as I fuck her straight through the bed, then through the wall and into the swirling snow outside.
“I will never hurt you,” I say, knowing it could be the biggest lie of my life. “Now.” I warm her forehead with my lips, devouring her scent as my mouth waters, my longing to know the flavor of her pink petals pushing me to the edge of reason. “Go, get ready for dinner. Do not be late.”
Lucy comes turning around the corner, eyes down on a tablet as I step back, leaving Carina unsteady as she falls against the wall with a yelp.
It’s rare for Carina to be in this hallway near my ‘workshop’ as I call it. It’s my command center really, where I still pull the strings and run the many aspects of my underworld dealings in Chicago and across the country.
But she thinks it’s just my office where I focus on my investments. Clear my head. My testosterone space as she calls it.
Lucy’s eyes do not hide her surprise to find us standing here together.
“What’s going on?” Her lids fall, narrowing her gaze, inspecting us both as she shifts, still in her leotard as well, but covered with her usual gray sweatshirt and black warm-up pants.
“Nothing,” Carina answers, righting herself on a shift of her hips, darting her eyes to me, shrugging. “Maybe some Christmas surprise plans. None of your business.”
Lucy isn’t buying it, which doesn’t surprise me. She’s got my intuition; she misses very little and a blade lances my heart, knowing I will need to be more careful. Keep my feelings for Carina on ice and our new dynamic in deep-fake level cover.
“I was asking Papa about something. For you. So, yeah.” Carina cocks her hip and crosses her arms, flinging her head like she’s flipping her hair back which does nothing since it is held on top of her head in a tight bun.
She’s an exceptional dancer but a terrible actress.
“Whatever.” Lucy shakes her head, her eyes fluttering dismissively as she turns back toward the kitchen, shooting me one last glance as a growl rumbles in my chest, knowing we all have secrets from each other.
“She’ll hate us both,” Carina whispers, pulling away from my hand as I trace my fingers in apology along her collarbone.
Then she skips back down the hall, taking part of me with her.
“I will make it right,” I promise to no one.
The devil has dealt me an impossible hand.
Too bad for him, I love a challenge.
CHAPTER 5
Carina
It's as though I’m seeing everything for the first time.
I always knew where we lived was special. From what my grandfather told us, when he chose to leave his former life after his prison sentence, he wanted to get as far away as he could.
He wanted solitude more than anything.
What he got was that, but so much more. It’s honestly magic here. I’m appreciating it in a new way since this pressure has been released and I kissed him and found out he’s been battling back the same feelings for me as I have for him.
I don’t care that we are three decades apart in age. I don’t care that everyone will think it’s wrong and he’s a sick man. I. Don’t. Care.
Lust will do that to a girl.
I’ve learned that a thousand times reading my books.
The sun broke over the mountains and across the lake on an unusually warm day for this time of year. I lay awake most of the night, wondering if he would come to me, praying he would, but running over all the reasons, he shouldn’t.
I got dressed early and made my way to the barn and fed the reindeer. Talked out my anxious feelings with Leonardo sitting on the wooden wall of his stall while he ate. He offered no words of wisdom but a usual sense of comfort with his wide brown eyes and nods of his head.
At breakfast, Lucy ate her eggs and battled with Mama about more of the party plans while Papa and I touched feet under the table like teenagers.
His eyes seem bluer today. His scent more intoxicating. I picked out a red striped sweater with matching tights and a white knit skirt to wear after I got back from the barn, hoping to look like a gift he couldn’t resist unwrapping.
With one special alternation to the tights.
After we ate, Lucy paraded off toward the auditorium for some lone practice time while Mama cleared the table, grousing about how to get the catering company to follow her lasagna recipe to the letter and that the Lambrusco that was delivered was the wrong year.