Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
She’s baring herself to me. Offering herself up. Her life to my examination. Her body to my touch. Her innocence to my dark vengeance.
I draw a deep breath trying to draw back from her siren’s song. I shouldn’t want to master her. To be the man she surrenders to.
And yet the memory of Alex walking in that room with her makes me want to punch his teeth out. I don’t deserve this honor, and even if I did, I couldn’t take it. But no fucking way I think another man is worthy of her, either.
“There are a few facts I haven’t been able to ferret out about you, Natasha.”
“Like what?” Her voice is light. Teasing. She’s playing a game.
She’s obviously decided she’s safe with me. I should be comforted by that fact. It proves her innocence in all this. Yet the bastard in me thinks I should keep her scared. Keep her on edge, so her fear provides the barrier between us that I can’t seem to keep up.
“Why did you quit your job as an EMT?”
“Your computer couldn’t tell you that?”
“It delivers facts not reasons.”
“What’s your guess?” Her voice is musical. Gentle. Like we’re lovers having a midnight soak together and not a prisoner and her prison guard.
“My guess… is that you saw some things you couldn’t stomach.”
She draws in an audible breath before she answers, “Exactly.” The force of her answer makes me turn around before I can catch myself.
Because I need to see her face. I’m sorry when I find what I expected to see—a bleak, haunted expression.
“Did someone die?”
“Yeah.”
“Old or young?”
“There was more than one. It was five in a row.” Her voice breaks a little.
I step closer, despite my resolve, and crouch at the edge of the hot tub. I’m in my jeans because I gave her my boxer shorts, but I took my shirt and socks off.
“Can you believe that?” She gives a watery laugh. “Five in a row that we couldn’t save in time. Young, old. There was a heart attack victim, a gunshot wound, a toddler who’d choked on a hot dog and died before we got there. We lost them all. And that’s when I knew I’d chosen the wrong area of focus.”
I catch her choice of words, and I’m intrigued. “And massage is the right area?”
She gives an embarrassed little chuff. “Well, it’s closer.” She sounds defensive, and that bothers me.
I sit cross-legged on the deck. I’m on the opposite side of the hot tub from her—safe enough distance—and my interest isn’t dick-led for once. I’ve been chewing on this mystery of her career change for a while now.
“Hold on.” I put my palm up. “Why did you take that as an insult? Who made you think massage therapy wasn’t a worthy substitute?” As far as I can tell, she’s an amazing therapist. She finds all my tight spots without being told. If it weren’t for the iron erections they produced, I’d feel great after her massages.
Her bowtie lips part in surprise. “I… I don’t know. Maybe my mom, but she never actually said that.” She lifts her slender shoulders which has the unfortunate effect of showing me the tops of her breasts as they come out of the water. “Maybe me.” The words fall heavy, like stones dropping into the water between us, and her lips twist like she’s tasting something bitter. Her gaze is suddenly far away.
“What would you rather do or be?”
She looks at me for a moment, and I’m sure there’s an answer. She knows exactly what she wants to do.
“Tell me,” I prompt, hating that she’s holding it back from me.
“I wanted to be a naturopath.”
I make a mental note to research that. I’ve heard the word but have no idea what it actually means.
“Why wanted past tense? What’s stopping you?”
She lets out a little puff of air. “Money. I applied to schools after I got my undergrad, and I got in, but I didn’t get any scholarship offers. The thing is, I still have a pile of debt from my student loans from undergrad, and there aren’t any schools in Chicago, so it’s not just tuition I’d need to pay for, but room and board, as well. It’s just not feasible.”
I frown. “You must know Ravil gives microloans to members of our community all the time.”
“I can’t take on any more debt,” she snaps, but I hear the tears of frustration behind the anger, so I hold up my hands in surrender. “Right. I understand.”
“I’m sorry.” She sinks lower in the water, dipping until it touches the bottom of her chin. Like she wants to disappear.
I don’t want her hiding, so I expose my own flaws. “I actually have no idea what a naturopath is.”
Her easy smile relaxes her whole face and sets my world on fire. “It’s like a doctor, but using holistic and alternative medicine to treat illness. It would be a four-year program, followed by a two-year residency.”