Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“I asked you to call me Gavin, Elle.” He admonishes me with a cold tone and narrowed eyes while removing his hand. “I’ll speak to your father to clear up that misunderstanding.” His eyes linger on my breasts as he speaks. I just barely resist the urge to cover them. All the while my heart races as if it’s trying to escape and my body begs me to move. To be anywhere other than in this room with him. I pray he doesn’t speak with my father before I return home tonight. I need to make him fully aware that I don’t want to be given to Lord Crawe. Fear pricks along my skin at the realization that he’ll most likely see my father before me. I push the apprehension down and square my shoulders.
“What was the misunderstanding exactly?” I ask.
The sly grin appears on his face once again. “I realize you’re far too beautiful to let slip through my fingers. I hope I didn’t offend you with the job offer.” He waves his hand in the air. “It was merely an attempt to get to know you better.”
I raise my brows at his ridiculous response. I’m sure he wants to get to know some of me better, if his returning gaze to my breasts is any indication. I’m not certain what to say in response so I decide to simply ignore it. I place my splayed hand across my chest and clear my throat. When his eyes find mine, I give him a tight smile and ask, “Is there anything I can do for you today, Gavin?”
He smiles and nods. “Biscuits. A half dozen, if you’d be so kind.” His baby blue gaze rakes my body the entire time he speaks. With my teeth clenched together, I squash my need to huff and turn my back to him while I gather the biscuits in a freshly cleaned cloth.
“Anything else I can get you from the bakery?” I ask with my back still turned to him. I breathe in sharply and jump at the firm touch to the small of my back. My body goes rigid.
He lets out a low, rough chuckle at my response and leans down to whisper, “Not today, Elle. But soon.” The hot breath at my neck isn’t welcomed. Neither is the threat. I turn quickly and press my back against the wall, pushing the biscuits into his chest.
“Ara!” I call out, nearly breathless. “We need more biscuits!” My heart pounds in my chest, but my face is devoid of emotion. I won’t let him see how frightened I am of him. I can’t be his wife. I won’t. He laughs at my efforts and takes the biscuits from my hands, brushing my fingers with his as he does.
“I’ll speak with you soon.” His eyes search mine, but I don’t offer him a response. As Ara makes her way through the kitchen, he leaves two silvers on the table, turns, and leaves with purposeful strides. It’s only when the bell chimes that I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. The kitchen door opens with a telltale creak and Ara observes the shelf, nearly full of baked goods still.
“Are you sure? Have we sold all two dozen already?” Ara glances at the shelf above my head before shaking her head. “Are you holding these for someone?” She questions me while pointing to a basket full of biscuits, but I’m finding it difficult to respond. My heart feels like it’s falling and uncertainly swarms me.
He wants me to be his wife.
He will ask my father and…I don’t know what my father will agree to.
A chill flows down my body and my legs weaken. I will have no say. Women do not choose their husbands. I can’t control my expression in front of Ara; I don’t try to, either. A look of shock and then worry crosses her face. “Elle, dear, are you all right?”
At her concern, I shake my head. “I feel faint.” I don’t want to tell her about Lord Crawe. It’s one thing for me to hint at my distaste for him, it’s another to speak ill of a lord. “I think I need to go home.”
“Of course, of course.” Her voice is gentle as she pats my shoulders while her eyes linger on the silver and then dart to the door. Her lips purse and anger storms her eyes. As I said, she’s the epitome of motherly strength, but she knows just as well as I do that there’s nothing she can do if Lord Crawe can persuade my father.
THE PRINCE AND THE BEAST
As I near the edge of the enchanted forest, the thump in my chest rages and adrenaline races through my veins. Every movement is slow and calculated, although the beast inside of me is barely contained. The fallen branches crunch beneath my heavy feet making me pause my advance.