Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
She nods, confirming that I still haven’t earned words yet.
“Why are you with Rip?”
She sinks deeper into the wall, sliding a few inches down and stretching her legs in front of her to cross them at the ankles
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she finally asks. “Haven’t you read the papers? We’re the perfect couple.”
“He bores you out of your mind.”
“No, he fucks me out of my mind.”
If she was going for shock value, that did it. Only our eyes lock and I realize she’s not trying to shock me. She’s just telling the truth. Her gaze is frank and honest.
“That’s all you want in a relationship?” I hazard a step closer before dropping to the other end of her bench and leaning my back against her wall.
That husky laugh permeates the air in the passageway again.
“Look, Dr. Phil, I’m not one of those sweet girls looking for some man to sweep me off my feet and put a ring on it.” She crosses both arms over her flat stomach, a cynical twist corrupting the beautiful curve of her mouth. “At least not anymore.”
“Kissed too many frogs?”
“Make no mistake about it. Those frogs and I did more than kiss.” Her smile exudes a sexual confidence I’m unused to from the women in my circles, but that I find by the second I more than like. “It’s not so much that I can’t find my prince, as that I’m no princess.”
I take in the symmetry of her face, the elegant arch of her brows, the vibrant green eyes, the high slant of her cheekbones, and that lush curve of lips like a splash of passion on an otherwise pristine plane. The graceful bearing, even relaxed against the wall, commands attention and respect. She looks like nothing if not a young queen.
I’m just about to tell her so when approaching footsteps cut our conversation short. I turn, disappointed to see Rip striding quickly up the hall. Sofie stands immediately, grabbing her clutch from the bench and looking down at me. Our eyes connect, and I wonder if she wishes we had a few more minutes alone. Probably not, but there’s something hiding behind those eyes, green as leaves. Curiosity? Interest? Whatever it is, it would take longer than two minutes for her to trust me with it.
“Sorry, baby.” Rip’s huge quarterback hands almost meet around Sofie’s slim waist when he pulls her close. “I saw Don Siemer from college. Can you believe that? Small world, right?”
She smiles and gives a quick nod.
“Can we just go?” She gives a practiced pout of that lush mouth. “I’m exhausted and have to be up really early.”
“Of course,” Rip says. “The car’s waiting. We can stay at your place.”
Rip looks at me down on the bench. That last comment was for my benefit. He’s marking his territory. I should tell him Sofie was much less subtle about his virility, but I don’t bother. There isn’t much more to Rip than what you see. All-American good looks. Athletic and not too bright. But Sofie? She reminds me of one of the African mines we’ve visited, diamonds so deeply embedded in the earth children risk life and limb to retrieve them. That’s Sofie. Somehow even after just tonight, I know her diamonds are buried deep, and retrieving them would prove dangerous and rewarding.
You don’t meet someone like Sofie Baston every day, and I wonder if this will be the only time we encounter each other. If it will be a story I tell my grandchildren. I met that famous model once. She wasn’t a bitch at all. She was beautiful and funny and honest, and I wanted to punch her boyfriend in the face every time he touched her. I just met her the one time, but I’ll never forget.
Rip guides Sofie down the hall toward a rear exit, and she looks back over her shoulder, our eyes connecting for an extra few seconds before she looks straight ahead and is swallowed up by the dark. I could be wrong, but I think she would have liked five more minutes with me. As eager as she was to leave, I might intrigue her as much as she increasingly intrigues me, and like I do with everything else in my life that counts, I make up my mind quickly, decisively.
No, that won’t be the story I tell my grandchildren.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sofie
Damn, Sof. For someone so skinny, you’ve got great tits.”
He paws my breasts and pinches my nipples so hard it feels like needles piercing the flesh, sharp and painful. He shackles my wrist, but I jerk against his strength. My heart slams into my breastbone. I’m a live wire soaked in water. I’m—
“Sof, wake up!”
The voice, insistent at my ear, jerks me out of the nightmare I was buried alive in. My eyes snap open, immediately colliding with Rip’s blue gaze above me, his toned bare chest hovering over me, his arms caging me on either side. My nightgown is pulled back to bare my breast.