Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
The rest in the room were white men, all powerfully built and watching her with serious expressions. Except one, he had a small smile tilting up his lips as he gave her a nod.
They were impressive, every last one of them but she knew they weren’t the cause for the shiver. Beyond the last one was Ryker. His stance mimicked the others, arms crossed, feet braced. But unlike the others, his gaze wasn’t blank, it burned.
Coating herself in the icy reserve she’d hones after being in the DC political circle, she merely cocked an eyebrow and turned her attention to the man who’d been kind enough to give her a job.
“Mr. Strauss?” She prayed her voice didn’t tremble in the slightest.
“These men are here to protect you, Ms. Hunter.”
She flattened her lips. She didn’t need protecting, not here.
“Why? Has my family done something else?”
In her periphery, Ryker shifted, taking a step toward her at her words until the bearded man beside him with light brown hair and blond highlights shot him a look that froze him.
“Not your family this time. I’ll have Mr. O’Shea explain.”
Rayla took a deep breath and turned her attention forward again, expecting the near ginger to be the one speaking. When it was the black man, she worked hard to control her surprise.
“It kind of is, your family this time as well, Ms. Hunter. Your father has ties to the Abdulov crime family.”
She huffed a breath. “Of course he does. That’s what Grant was taking photos of isn’t it?”
Ryker moved this time, not stopping at the glare from the man beside him.
“Baby, let us protect you.”
Baby. It was how he said baby that weakened her resolve. Refusing to look in his direction, she kept her gaze, completely brown thanks to her contacts, on Mr. O’Shea.
“I fail to see how that has anything to do with me, Mr. O’Shea. My father can barely stand the sight of me, in fact, I’m still recovering from my cracked ribs the last time we were in the same room together. I hardly—” She squealed as Ryker was at her side tugging her jacket off and trying to get beneath her shirt. “What are you doing? Ryker!”
“I’m trying to see the extent of your damage, then we’re going to talk about why the fuck you didn’t call me the second this happened. Take off your shirt.” He was tugging it up.
“No,” she snapped, smacking at him with the tablet. “I’m not stripping, especially in front of my boss and your…well, whatever they are. Stop pulling on my shirt.”
“Get out.” His low voice rumbled across the room even as his blue gaze remained locked on her face.
“Ms. Hunter?” Xavier’s tone held quite a bit of amusement but she didn’t doubt if she asked him to stay he would.
“I’m fine, sir.”
Ryker’s fingers trailed up and down the tiny bit of her skin he’d managed to expose.
The others left, chuckling amongst themselves and when that door clicked, announcing they were alone with each other, his gaze became feral.
“Take it off.”
She didn’t want to. She longed to have enough strength against this man to refuse, but when he commanded her in that tone. Lord have mercy on her, she had no resistance. Lips in a flat line, she carefully placed the tablet on the large table and reached for the top button of her shirt.
His hands were there, brushing hers away. He made short work of unbuttoning her top, his gaze roved over her and a low growl escaped. Ryker shook his head and pushed the side of her shirt back allowing himself to see the lingering bruise easier.
“Why did he do this?” His fingertips glided over her skin and she sucked in a breath at the contact. “Did I hurt you?”
“Not right then no. It’s tender.”
“I’m going to kill him for hurting you.” She tried to close her shirt but he batted her hand away. “Not finished.”
“The glass is open, Ryker. This is embarrassing.”
He pulled his focus from her side and held her stare. “Baby, they’re not looking in here, they’re making sure no one does.” He ran his knuckles along her chin.
“You don’t get to call me baby.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before returning to his poke and prod of her injury. “You’re my baby. What else would I call you?”
“Nothing. You, your brother, my family, all of you can just go fuck yourselves. I want nothing from you.” She jerked away from him and furiously buttoned up her shirt then shoved it in the waistband of her slacks. “Any of you!”
Ryker looked at her, pain in his gaze but she didn’t care. Not now. Shaking her head, she backed away.
“I can’t leave you in danger, baby. I won’t.”
She jerked her hand and stabbed a finger at the window where, what did you know, they were watching. “Then let them do it. I don’t want to see you again.”