Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“But you like to mention me to him.”
Her coldness didn’t thaw. “Are you jealous?” She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side. “Because you do understand you’re just his plaything, not his lover. If he wants to sleep around, he will. It’s none of your concern.”
“I understand what I am to him. But I deserve all the facts.”
“Then ask him yourself.” She lowered her arms back to her lap.
I would have to. No one was willing to give me any answers around here. I was important enough to keep but not important enough to share information with. It wasn’t like I was asking for banking information. “I’m nervous for this dinner on Saturday. I told him he shouldn’t take me but he wants to anyway.”
She sighed loudly. “I don’t have a clue why he’s taking you either. Sasha is perfect for these sorts of things.”
I hated that name. It was like grinding a rock against my teeth.
“But Crewe always gets what he wants,” she said with another sigh. “I’ll make sure you look your best so you don’t embarrass yourself.”
It didn’t matter how good I looked. I would probably embarrass myself anyway.
Crewe returned to the royal chambers late that evening. I had dinner alone and was ready to go to bed. Since I got to spend the afternoon outside, I was no longer restless.
He walked in the door, smelling like cigars again. He greeted me with a look as he loosened his tie. He headed to the bathroom as more articles of clothing fell onto the floor.
I could tell he wasn’t in the mood to talk, so I didn’t ask him anything. But I picked up his clothes off the floor and placed them on the hanger so one of the maids would take them to be dry cleaned tomorrow. I didn’t know anything about suits, but I knew his clothes must be expensive and well made. I wasn’t sure why I cared at all. The well-being of his clothes shouldn’t matter. He obviously didn’t care about my well-being as a human.
After he showered, he came back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. His chest glistened with the remaining water drops that fell from his hair and down his shoulders. He stopped when he spotted the suit hanging from the back of the door, but he didn’t comment on it.
“You really shouldn’t smoke.” I wasn’t trying to pick a fight with him, but the smell from his clothes bothered me.
“I thought you didn’t care about me.”
“I don’t, but I don’t want you to get lung cancer.”
He grabbed a pair of boxers from his drawer and looked at me, the corner of his mouth raising in a smile. “That’s an interesting contradiction. You don’t care about me, but you want me to live as long as possible. Interesting.”
“I’m just saying that as a friend.”
“So we’re friends?” He pulled on his boxers and walked around the bed until we were face to face. That arrogant smile was still on his lips. Sometimes, when it was just the two of us, he showed me a side of him that he didn’t let anyone else see. He was playful, even funny.
“No. I just…” I didn’t know how to dig myself out of the conversational hole I’d just gotten into.
“We aren’t friends.” He came closer to me, the drops on his skin glistening. “Friends don’t fuck the way we do.” He leaned toward me and kissed the corner of my mouth, his body wash sweeping over me.
I forgot what I was saying and melted at the touch, feeling his lips with my own. He chased away everything when we embraced. I didn’t think about my brother, my imprisonment, or anything else.
He pulled away, our lips sticking together just before they broke apart. “Ariel told me she had a great time today.”
I rolled my eyes. “Liar.”
He chuckled then walked to the table where he kept his scotch. The maid brought a fresh bucket of ice every night so he could drink his booze the way he liked. He poured himself a glass then took a long drink before he returned the glass to the table. “She’s still not your biggest fan.”
“What a coincidence,” I said sarcastically. “I don’t care for her either.”
He poured another glass.
“You drink too much.” One a day is fine, but he must have had twelve glasses a day. Ironically, I’d never seen him drunk. Unless he was drunk all the time, and I’d never known him sober.
He ignored my observation and took another drink. “She said you’re nosy.”
“Nosy?”
“Asking about my past and my women.”
I didn’t like the way he referred to them possessively. It made my spine tense in annoyance. “She brought up your past first. So that doesn’t count.”
“Then why are you asking about the other one?” He drank from his glass again before he finally set it down.