Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“The things you do to me, Lyla James.” He exhales, shaking his head slowly.
“The feeling is completely mutual.” I smile wide. He stares at me and kisses me one last time.
“Let’s go.” He grabs my hand and starts walking toward the door like his feet are on fire.
“Slow down.” I laugh, pulling my hand. “I need to get my purse.”
He lets go of my hand and pins me with heated green eyes, “If we don’t leave in the next two seconds, I’m going to toss you on the bed, spread your legs, and devour you.”
My breath quickens and I’m forced to squeeze my legs shut and bite my lip to keep from saying anything at all. I turn, grab my purse, and put my hand in his again, letting him lead me to the elevator, the feeling between my legs still present even after we’re inside, sharing the elevator with strangers.
“Stop,” he says quietly, his voice husky in my ear. “I know what you’re thinking about, and if you don’t stop, I won’t stop, and we’ll never make it to the luncheon.”
I swallow hard and nod, replacing thoughts of us in bed together with the reality that we’re about to experience. I’m not ready, but I don’t think I ever will be. In the SUV, we have a security briefing of sorts. It ends in an argument. Our security detail thinks we should go with the original plan of using me as bait, which I agree with, but Lach is completely opposed.
“I don’t want you anywhere near him,” Lachlan says next to me.
“It’s our best shot at a full confession,” I say for the fifth time since the argument started.
Lach glares at me. “I don’t fucking care. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
Ronnie, Derek (the other bodyguard), and I exchange a look. If we were to take a vote, Lach would be in the minority. I know David Jameson. I know he’ll come after me first. He’s too blinded by his sick obsession not to. The obsession is the extent of Ronnie’s and the rest of the security team’s knowledge. As far as I’m concerned, it’s all they need to know.
“Mic me up,” I say, ignoring Lach’s glare burning holes in the side of my face. “Better to be safe than sorry.”
I watch enough reality television to know how bulky mics can be. This isn’t that. This is thin and untraceable unless you purposely look for it. When they’re done, Derek takes out a tablet and shows me the drone footage they’re currently recording. It shows a bird’s-eye view of the building from all four angles. They explain the rest — one of them will be inside the building, while the rest of them hang back, listening and watching.
They’ll step in when they have incriminating footage, unless something goes sideways and they have to interfere. We’re both quiet once 007 Training 101 is finished, but I can feel Lachlan’s disapproval. He has to know that there’s no way in hell Jameson will go after him. The only reason he was able to take him down, the first time, is that Lach had his guard down and the attack was completely unexpected. Jameson’s in great shape and not a small guy, by any means, but there’s no way he can take Lachlan in a fight. He’ll go for me first. I know it. The only reason he left me alone in Chicago is that he knew someone was with me.
Once the car starts moving, I scoot closer to Lachlan. Despite his annoyance with me, he puts an arm around me and lets me sink into his side. I stare down at the ring on my finger and wonder if Jameson will be even more upset about the engagement. I made sure he didn’t see it the other day, but he won’t miss it today. A part of me wants to take it off and hide it. Another part wishes we’d just gotten married. Maybe then, he’d leave us alone. I can see why he’d think he owned me when I was young.
He was doing things with me that I wasn’t even aware of. Even when I was in college, he could have held soccer over my head, once he became the director of the athletic department. There’s nothing he can use as leverage now besides Lachlan. If this is a sick competition, and we’re married, he has to know Lach already won. Maybe not, I don’t know. Whenever I try to understand his actions, I come up short. You can’t really try to find logic in insanity without losing your own.
“Do you think it makes a difference whether we’re engaged or married?” I ask.
Lach pulls back slightly and searches my face. “What do you mean?”
“To him. Maybe if we were already married, he’d drop this whole thing. Of course, we still need to do something about him, but I mean as far as trying to. . .own me,” I say. “Maybe we should just tell people we’re already married.”