Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
“We’re all right, sweetheart. It’s just the two of us here and for tonight we’re both just fine. More than fine.” He brushed kisses along her forehead and inhaled that perfect, tantalizing scent that he would always associate with her. Elusive. Subtle. Not all peonies had a scent, but the ones that did were unforgettable. Like his woman.
She rubbed her cheek along his chest. “It’s close tonight, Draden. Crouched like a monster ready to pounce if I close my eyes.”
“Now, I’m here, baby. Nothing is going to get you. Besides, I can see your gun sticking out from under the pillow.” He tried to ease the tension in her, massaging her bottom and teasing her to get her mind off the fact that they were both going to die in the next few days.
“I can’t shoot the virus unless I’m killing myself.”
He closed his eyes. He couldn’t think about anyone putting a bullet in her brain, and he didn’t want her thinking about it either. “I’m still holding out hope that Trap and Wyatt will come through for us. They’ve put together a team of virologists and they’re working around the clock. I believe they aren’t the only ones.” He moved his hand up her spine to the nape of her neck, kneading the hard knots there in an effort to comfort her.
“You’re amazing, Draden, and you don’t even know it. I hate that you have the virus in you as well, but if I had to go through this experience, I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”
Her voice rang with sincerity. He didn’t know why he was inexplicitly pleased, not when the virus was consuming him just as fast, but he was. “We’re getting married tomorrow. I’ve already asked Joe to facilitate the paperwork and have given him a list of items to find for us. Did you ever think about your wedding day and what you’d like to have there?”
“It never really occurred to me that I would have the chance to marry. I did fantasize about it but never thought it would actually happen.” Her fingers absently trailed across his heavy muscles. “I wanted flowers. Lots of flowers. I think more and more brides have opted not to have flowers because they can be very expensive, but I thought they brought something special to the wedding. Bellisia laughed at me, but Zara agreed. So, mostly, when I thought about a wedding, I thought of flowers.”
“That’s strange. I never thought much about getting married either, but when I did, it was always the flowers that seemed significant to me too. I thought it was just because most of the few good memories I have come from the time I worked in the nursery.”
She murmured a wordless sound of agreement and nuzzled his throat. “I like ceremonies. Rituals. Especially the ones that involve big family celebrations—probably because I never had a family of my own. Once I was in Russia. I had tracked this agent to St. Petersburg. He’d come to the United States and poisoned a defector—a man who just wanted to be able to be free to perfect his artistry. The man also was very wealthy and believed in everything Whitney was doing. He gave a great deal of money toward Whitney’s experiments. You can imagine how angry he was that this agent interrupted that flow of money.”
She fell silent, but he felt the fan of her long lashes against his skin. Her hand, stroking caresses and drawing letters over his chest, was sending little streaks of fire through him. He caught her wrist to still the movement.
“Keep going.” He wasn’t trying to distract her. He was genuinely interested in everything she had to say. If for no other reason, he loved the sound of her voice.
She shrugged. “It’s silly really. I was following him along this narrow backstreet and went around a corner to the main street. I couldn’t be obvious, so I stopped to stare in the window of the building. There were all these people inside.”
Shylah nuzzled his chest, lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “It was a large, extended family celebrating a birth. They’d all gathered. Men in suits, looking so handsome. Women in dresses, their hair up, makeup on, a true occasion, you know, where everyone wants to look their best. Children of various ages were running around, looking good in their dress-up clothing. But clearly, it was a family.”
His heart turned over. There was underlying sadness in her voice. She had never had a family and she knew she never would.
“I remember they had this very cool tea service. I noticed it because it was hand-painted and it had blue peonies on it. Can you imagine?” Now there was a smile in her voice. “Me, noticing peonies? It was this incredibly beautiful, clearly vintage tea service. I’m certain it must have been in their family for a generation or two. It was the way they touched it, so gently, almost reverently.”