Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Whether any of that is true or false doesn’t matter, though, as either way, this is so unlike the man I know.
My sister was seen today in the open by eyes who may or may not share the news, assuming it’s harmless, and we would have no idea who to blame should the word get out—when the word gets out. Not that anyone knows why she left in the first place, but word travels fast, especially when it comes to the man other men must seek approval from in order to cross our borders.
I’ve replayed a million ideas in my head and have come up empty every time, doing it all over again with each glass filled, so when Oliver holds a pipe before my lips, I part them, pulling in a long hit of hash-dusted weed.
I wait for the man across from me to scold me, to make it clear he’s unhappy with my decision to alter my mind, but he glances over with nothing more than a smile, returning to his conversation a second later.
It makes no sense.
“I think our fathers are drunk,” Oliver whispers.
Resisting the urge to shake my head, I take a second drag when offered before pushing his hand away. “I think you’re right.”
“I bet if we unloaded the Jet Skiis and hit the water right now, they wouldn’t say a word or even notice.” He looks my way, grinning. “Honestly, they may encourage it.”
“Doubtful.” I chuckle, making a point to look down at my dress. “And does it look like I am Jet Ski ready?”
“I’d be happy with whatever you have on underneath, but you already know that much.”
He shifts where he sits, turning slightly, his thigh near my thigh, his arm resting on the back of the curved booth behind my shoulders, and then his fingers dare to touch my skin.
I narrow my eyes at the brazen move. “Watch yourself, Oliver. I would hate to break your trigger finger.”
“You wouldn’t because Daddy would be really upset if you did.”
I face forward, lifting my glass to my lips, knowing where his focus will fall, while my left dips into the slit of my skirt. I raise and slide my blade across his finger.
He’s bleeding without having seen it coming.
He jolts but bites his tongue when our fathers easily shift this way at the sudden movement.
Oliver yanks his hand back, inspecting the clean slice across his knuckles.
“You were saying?” I lift a brow, wiping his blood from the blade along my red dress. I didn’t want to wear this thing anyway. It’s only fair I add my favorite shade to it.
Oliver’s eyes narrow, anger clear as day, but he blinks it away. “We should talk about my family’s offer.”
“Let’s not.”
“You’d be wise to accept, Rocklin.”
My hackles rise and I shift, my body facing his fully. “You would be wise to remember your place before I strip it from beneath your feet, and I won’t be subtle about it. Don’t make us regret offering you a place and don’t forget nothing is permanent.”
“Go ahead, princess. Try and kick me and see how fast Daddy steps in.”
My brows snap together and I open my mouth to clap back, but then our fathers approach.
“We’re on our way back to the docks,” mine announces, a loose smile on his face as his palm pats his stomach.
Frowning, I stare at him, but he only meets my eyes for the briefest of moments and then speaks to Mr. Henshaw once more.
Oliver’s eyes slide my way, and he leans close, whispering, “We don’t have to fight like this, you know. It’s best to accept me on your own terms.”
I “accidentally” nudge my elbow, sending my glass into his lap.
He jumps up with a curse, stomping away, and thankfully, we’re docking before he comes back.
I move to stand, and Oliver rushes forward, offering me his hand that I have every intention of slapping away, but Mr. Henshaw’s eyes burn into the side of my head, so I accept, allowing his heir to pull me to my feet.
My jaw clenches as I force a smile, whispering for only him to hear. “If you aren’t careful, you will no longer be a member of the Greyson society.”
He smiles, leaning in, his lips brushing my cheek. “If you’re smart, you will accept my hand in marriage. I can protect you.”
I swallow my scoff, nodding at the pair as I step off the yacht, silent as I slide into the car with Sai.
“I don’t like him.” He glares at the side mirror.
“That makes three of us.” I recall my conversation with Dom.
Maybe it is time to reconsider his position in our society. He’s always been a pushy flirt with open intentions as to what he wants from me, but he’s never stepped over a line. Tonight, he jumped it. That’s a problem.