Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“I’m not buying it.” A slow, cruel smile curves his lips. “Just last month you showed me a taste of that fire on the examination table. That spitfire of a princess is still in there somewhere.”
“Queen,” I say through gritted teeth.
Letting go of me, he raises an amused brow. “I rest my case.” He turns and tugs at the back of his T-shirt, yanking it over his tousled blond hair, and I can’t help but admire his backside. All of that smooth skin stretched over hard muscle shoots a bolt of desire between my legs. I don’t know what it is about Sebastian, but I lose my head whenever he’s near.
“You need to take your clothes off for this.” He stalks out of sight then returns with a black jewelry case.
“What’s that?” I ask, rising to my feet and nodding at the sleek box in his hands.
“It’s the Heart of the Queen. Heath finally got his greedy hands on it. I don’t know how, but he did.” He cracks open the lid. “And he wants me to paint you wearing it.” His eyes flick up to meet mine. “Time’s ticking. Lose the clothes.”
I cross my arms, suddenly unhindered by the training Mr. Bordeaux instilled in me over the last three weeks. “Do you need me naked for the portrait, or for your payment?” The word bleeds from my lips, drenched in feigned disgust.
“Both.” His grin is rakish, unguarded, and downright sexy. “And since I’ve only got three hours with you, how about we speed things up?”
He removes the necklace from the box then drapes it around my neck. The teardrop-shaped diamond is a deep scarlet, and the weight of it hangs between my cleavage. I’m gaping at the stone in a state of awe, all too aware that Liam sold this priceless family heirloom because of me, when Sebastian slips a spaghetti strap over my shoulder. He does the same to the other side, followed by a determined tug to the bodice, and the dress falls to the floor.
“No undergarments,” he says, voice deepening to an appreciative rasp as his gaze roams my bare skin. “You came prepared.”
“Mr. Bordeaux instructed me not to wear any.” The words come out shaky, and I can’t bring myself to meet his blue eyes when he looks at me like that.
As if he’s starved for the taste of me.
“Let’s get something straight,” he says, tilting my chin up, “Mr. Bordeaux doesn’t exist for the next three hours.”
“He doesn’t?” I breathe, lips parted because there’s that look again.
The one that tells me he feels this weird pull between us as much as I do. It’s strong and a bit terrifying.
Electrifying.
Liam Castle made me experience things I didn’t know I could feel—the highs and lows, the delirious adrenaline rush of several of my firsts.
First kiss.
First taste of a man.
First orgasm.
But Sebastian makes me afraid to feel anything at all, because the gamut of emotions he inspires are dangerously intense. This unexplainable connection is nothing but mayhem to my sanity.
“No, Heath Bordeaux doesn’t exist in this room. It’s just you and me, princess…and the license he gave me to touch you.” His smirk should cool the fire heating my veins, but all his cocky confidence seems to do is deliver a direct hit straight to my core.
I shouldn’t crave his touch after the way he’s treated me, but God help me…
I do.
“I thought you didn’t like me.” The vulnerability in that admission leaves me exposed before him, my state of undress notwithstanding.
“I don’t like you.”
His confirmation hurts more than it should. More than I’m comfortable with. I search his sea-blue eyes, hoping to uncover a reason—something logical and tangible to explain his dislike—but all I find is reluctant lust.
My brows furrow. “You don’t like me…but you want me?”
“God, yes.” He steps forward, his impressive bare chest sending me back a few inches, out of the puddle of my dress. “I absolutely want you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t fucking know. Call it a curse.” Another step forward, and his head tilts, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “Maybe it’s the golden silk of your hair and how it makes you seem so young and innocent, or the way you always smell like fruit and flowers.” Dipping his head, he runs his nose along my cheekbone. “Some exotic scent that stays with me long after you’re gone.”
I’m dizzy, my brain spiraling toward the ground, and I’ve never been more grateful for the perfume I had bottled and sent from home. “It’s plumeria.”
“It’s sexy as hell.” He aims his attention on my lips. “But if the smell of you doesn’t kill me, the shape of your mouth will, especially all the things it was designed to do.”
“What kinds of things?” I dart my tongue along my lower lip, and his pupils dilate.
“Feasting on quivering skin, uttering dirty nothings.” He drags his thumb over my trembling lips. “Sucking, Novalee. I bet you do it so well you bring a man to his knees.”