Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 134663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“Hello,” I say as evenly as possibly, straining something close to a friendly smile. I get nothing in return. No acknowledgment. No smile. No words.
“This is Amber.” Danny takes another hit of nicotine. “Amber, this is Rose.” His smirk is growing by the second.
Suddenly, Amber slaps on a smile and comes dancing toward me. “Nice to meet you.” She offers her hand over the glass, and I take it, holding my smile in place.
“You too.”
Danny puts his arm around Amber’s shoulder, pulling her in close to his naked torso. She looks up at him in surprise but goes with ease, settling against his skin. My strained smile is going to crack my cheeks soon.
“I’ll leave you two to it.” I swivel on my bare feet and head back inside.
“Please do,” Danny calls, and I turn when I get to the doors, catching him walking Amber back into his room, one hand in her hair, the other still holding the cigarette. I don’t mean to slam the doors. It just happens, creating a deafening crash. For a moment, I half expect the glass to shatter. “Probably bulletproof,” I mutter, going to the closet and yanking it open in a temper. My grievance is forgotten the second I’m facing the contents. Dozens of items grace the rails—dresses, sweaters, pants, tanks. Glamorous, casual, smart. My eyes drop to the shoe stand, where there are various pairs of sneakers, heeled pumps, and flip-flops. He’s covered every wardrobe eventuality. What’s going on?
I start browsing through the pieces and soon realize that every single item is something I would choose for myself. None of it is tarty. None of it screams whore. It’s all tasteful and classy. Which means I have no armor. I pull out a cream dress with gold stitching on the hem and sleeves. There are gold-heeled pumps to match. Appropriate for dinner? Yes, I think so.
I get myself ready, before applying some makeup that was left on the dresser too. And the whole time, I’m silently stewing over what could be happening next door while I’m in here getting ready to accompany him to dinner. Then I hear a collection of bangs. And a definite roar of pleasure. My jaw tightens, and my hand gets a little too vigorous as I swipe my lipstick across my bottom lip, painting it thickly in the bright red shade I wore the fatal night Danny Black took me. Whore red. I smack my lips and stand back from the mirror. And I stare into my empty eyes for the longest time as I slowly pin my hair into place, assessing myself. Perfect.
Grabbing my purse, I slip my feet into the heels and make my way downstairs, not looking at his door as I pass. Is she still in there? I shake my head and my thoughts away, hitting the stairs, my heels clinking on the marble. The sounds distract the group of men at the bottom, and they all turn and look up at me as I descend, my hold of the rail tight, my chin high. I make it to the bottom, and the ugly guy, Ringo, looks past me. I turn and see Danny at the top of the stairs, watching me.
I hold his eyes, my jaw solid, my mind ignoring the vision of his tall, hard frame looking fine in another expensive three-piece, this one navy. The deep blue makes his eyes pop, even from down here.
He takes slow steps down, fastening his tie as he does, his eyes never leaving mine. Defiantly, I stare him down, refusing to look away. My grit amuses him. When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he passes through a few men until he’s before me. The silence is heavy. He finishes fastening his tie and holds out his hand. Brad places something in his palm. I don’t know what. I refuse to take my eyes off his. Then he moves in, lifting his hand to my face, and wipes a handkerchief from one side of my mouth to the other, dragging off my red lipstick. My look must be pure indignation, but I say nothing, licking my dry lips once he’s done.
“You didn’t like the red?” I ask.
“Not today.” He slides his palm onto my neck and turns me, leading me out of the door by a firm hold on my nape. “Glad you’re back to your normal self,” he muses, opening the back door of a shiny Mercedes.
I stop and look up at him, my face impassive. “My normal self?”
He smirks, dipping and kissing my cheek. “Fiery,” he whispers, his tongue licking the shell of my ear.
My inhale is loud. My body still. My skin erupts, my resolve becomes rickety.
“Get in the car, Rose.” Danny pulls back, and I slide into the back seat, my heart hammering, catching sight of Amber standing in the doorway, now dressed. Her face twists in displeasure before she can correct it. And for reasons unbeknown to me, it thrills me.