The Knight Read Online B.B. Reid (The Stolen Duet #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Billionaire, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense, Young Adult Tags Authors: Series: The Stolen Duet Series by B.B. Reid
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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“If this is going to work, you’re going to have to trust me.” Angel’s sleepy voice drowned the only sound I cared to hear.

“Well, maybe I don’t want this to work.” I sounded like a brat to my own ears. I had to make this work. For Caylen’s sake.

“Then you’ll both end up dead. Is that what you want?” It wasn’t a threat.

“Of course not,” I whispered defeated. He didn’t respond as his arm released my body, and I listened as he heaved his powerful body from the bed. It was hard not to stare at the muscles in his ass bunch and release as he stepped into his pants. When he turned and held out his hand, it was all I could do not to retreat.

“Come with me.”

I didn’t move. “Why?”

“The window on my mercy is closing,” he warned. I didn’t know what his idea of mercy was, but I knew I would be sorry if I didn’t accept it. His hand quickly closed over mine when I placed my palm in his as if he were afraid I’d change my mind and bolt. It was frightening sometimes how well he could read me.

It made it impossible to hide from him.

We started for the door when he suddenly stopped and bent to pick up his discarded shirt. “Put this on.” It was then I remembered my nakedness.

I took the shirt with hesitant fingers and slipped my arms through the dark gray sleeves. He barely gave me time to button more than two buttons before he took my hand again and pulled me into the dimly lit hallway. I wanted to ask again where he was taking me, but the stiff set of his shoulders told me he wasn’t in the mood to indulge me.

My heart rate picked up as we ventured through the west wing. He was locking me back up. I tugged against his fingers and berated myself for trusting him for even a moment. He didn’t break his pace or acknowledge my resistance other than a hard squeeze of my fingers. When he stopped in front of the doors to his father’s office, confusion replaced anger. My feet were like lead, so he all but dragged me inside and closed the door before letting me go and making his way across the room. His long strides ended in front of the painting of him.

“My father had this painting made weeks before Theo killed him,” he said with his back facing me. “I didn’t care much for the tradition, but he told me duty is something we rarely understand or agree with but something we must do all the same.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I wasn’t exactly in the mood for a family history lesson.

“Because the first duty he ever gave me was to protect you,” he answered. “I never stopped.”

“If I hadn’t broken in here to rob a dead man, you and I would still be pretending we don’t exist. I haven’t been yours to protect for a long time, Angel.”

He turned around then. His eyes were a storm, but his voice was composed as he said, “Do you think your life would have been any better if I hadn’t stayed away? I claimed you when you were sixteen fucking years old. Your father would be in a grave instead of chains if he had tried to say otherwise.” He took slow, careful steps toward me, but I refused to back down. “My ring would be on your finger, you’d be in my bed, and Caylen would be mine.” There was a deep ache low in my belly that I shouldn’t feel. I couldn’t deny his words because I knew those words were true. He would have claimed me, and for a while, I would have believed it was what I wanted. “You wouldn’t have wanted for anything except me. You would have been miserable. Stuck in a big castle in a faraway land with only your dreams to keep you company.”

“Because that’s what your father did to your mother?”

His eyes narrowed. “You know the tale.”

“Maybe it’s just the ending I don’t quite get.”

“As it turned out, it wasn’t a fairy tale after all. Happily ever after isn’t real.” He turned and stalked back to the painting. This time, he lifted it from the wall with little effort and set it aside, revealing the safe that started this war when I broke into it. He keyed in the combination before pressing a few more buttons.

“Come here,” he ordered with his back still turned. I approached with wary steps as I considered what he intended to show me.

What if it was the book? The perfect twist to a bad dream?

I closed my eyes and pinched myself.

When I opened them again, Angel was still there brimming with deadliness, and I was still his captive. He stepped around me, placing me between him and the safe.


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